Languidly Raine’s eyes fell on the tepid water steadily rising in the claw foot tub. Her grey tweed jacket fell first, quickly followed by a navy blue pencil skirt slinking to the cool floor tiles. With each piece of restrictive clothing pulled from her tired limbs the remnants of the day dissipated. A quick rotation of her nimble fingers easily did away with the buttons on her dress shirt and with a deliberate yank at the ruined pantyhose Raine stepped into freedom. 

She gently eased into the waiting pool of eucalyptus bath salts and warm water aligning her forearms along the outer edge of the tub. Tempering the melancholy thoughts with controlled breathing, Raine sunk further into the cocoon of her make-shift spa outing and shuttered her eyes to a close. With a small adjustment of the rolled towel at her neck she was finally ready for relaxation.

Above the tub a strong breeze wafted through the open window rattling the wooden shutters against its hinges. The fresh scents hanging in the air prickled her nose prompting her to suck in a heavy gulp of the woodsy mountain air that reminded her so much of him. She smelt the rain as sure as the taste of his lips once greeted her tongue. And, as the first ping of heavy rain drops fell on the roof and the copious pine trees surrounding their--well her vacation home, the memory of his favorite spicy after-shave enveloped her in that quiet way his presence always seemed to encapsulate a room.

Unconsciously, she reached for the simple gold band hanging from a chain adorning her neck as pain slowly leaked from the orifices of her sable eyes splattering the naked canvass of her toffee skin with tears. The palate of salty drops wetted her lips becoming an existential reminder of the bitter present. Swiping angrily at the useless tears, Raine chided herself for the countless time. He was gone. Never to be found. 

“P.O.W. Mrs. Casey,” the pristine men regaled in pressed uniforms and spit-shined black boots had informed her, sitting composed in her living room several months prior. 

The last of hopeful prayers had been whispered the night she received word that an imminent rescue mission was being planned. But, when the last of the dog tags were accounted for Seth’s wasn’t among them. Several months of lonely nights had passed in a haze and with it hope had dwindled like a dying candle. If the para-military extremists hadn’t taken his life then surely the bitter cold would have. Nothing good ever came from rummaging in the what ifs. 

No one ever returned from the Siberian Gulags.

***

The gentle press of his soft lips brushed the shell of Raine’s ear jolting her into consciousness.

Her first instinct was to scream.

The smell of eucalyptus mint was still heady on her nostrils and with a hard wiggle of her toes Raine felt assured by the resulting ripples of water flowing against her skin.

Surely she had to be dreaming?

But, she’d heard it, Raine rationalized. She’d even swear on her life she felt it. Pulling her knees to her chest and protectively wrapping her arms around her body Raine willed the crazy thoughts to stay at bay. 

“This is not real. This is not real,” she hummed to the drum of her pulse gently rocking her body. Never once did she open her eyes. 

There it was again --heated lips returning, this time sensuously praising the gentle slope of her nape and collarbone. Raine shivered with delicious need at the familiar touch sparking desire inside her. She wanted the torture to end for the sake of her sanity but on second thought not really. 

“Relax beautiful,” the stranger’s words caressed her earlobes more pronounced, pressing his nose and face lovingly into her matted hair. 

A nervous yelp pierced the air – 

“Seth?” Raine fretfully called out silently praying she wasn’t on a fast-track to the looney bin. 

“Yes mi amor. I am here,” a husky voice returned. The r’s rolling off the speaker’s tongue reverberated effortlessly as if he were native Spanish. Seth wasn’t Spanish, far from it with his crystalline blue eyes and russet colored hair. ‘Mi amor’ however was the only Spanish words he knew on account of their honeymoon in Barcelona and he’d practiced the phrase relentlessly on her.

Wrenching her eyes open and lacing the chords in her spine, Raine shot up with lighting speed sloshing water over the side of the tub. Still too frightened to turn and face the possibility that she was simply talking to a stress induced figment of her imagination, Raine spoke decisively to the crisp evening air. 

“No. You left me Seth.” 

A slightly calloused hand tucked her stray tresses behind the curve of her ear lobe and whispered, “I am home, Raine.”

Fighting the strain of burgeoning tears she squeezed her eyes shut once more, balled her fists at her sides and shook her head against the absurdity. 

“Look at me,” he pleaded. 

Stubborn as the day she was born as her mama often quoted, Raine refused. 

“No!” She screamed. “You are NOT real.” 

Determined to get out --quick, fast and in a hurry, Raine propelled the thick weight of her thigh over the side of the tub. The hell she was going to be haunted by his ghost too. With one fell swoop, Seth lifted Raine’s dripping body from the porcelain tub and hoisted her on his shoulder fully knowing that if he continued the conversation as they were nothing but strife would come of it. 

Despite, Raine’s initial screams, erratic pummeling and shouts to release her Seth proceeded to march into their bedroom with the strong urge to spank his wife. She was after-all perfectly poised for the receiving with the gentle slope of her backside a shallow breath from his chin. One would think, with a missing husband returning, his wife would be a bit more welcoming. Nope. Not his Raine. 

Depositing the shell-shocked Raine into their bed Seth quickly climbed atop her naked body, and captured her flaying wrists. 

“Look at me sweetheart.” 

Cautiously, Raine opened her eyes to gaze upon her abductor, recognizing the face of her long missing husband and forgot to breathe. Raking her eyes feverishly over every inch of his face, Raine noted the subtle and not so subtle changes. His titian hair was shabby as if the only comb that had greeted the short clipped mane were that of his fingers. His usually clean-shaven face was now alighted with tawny stubble and his long nose now held a tiny quirk along the lines of a garish scar. Transfixing her attention to his deep set eyes she watched as his baby blues surreptitiously drank in her body with intent. It was then Raine recalled that she was butt naked.

Biting back the embarrassment there was something more pressing on Raine’s agenda.

“Seth where wer—“

He captured her lips without further pause or thought of approaching the situation with tact in a soul-searching kiss that spoke of want and need. Pressing his desires into her naked flesh, there was but so much restraint he could muster. A more befitting reunion and an explanation would have to wait.

“Shush, I am home.”