Bodies pulsed to the music blaring through the sound system. The smell of sweat and alcohol filled her nose as she pressed through the crowd. Heads turned to watch her pass. She couldn't help but draw attention. She was a tall blonde dressed to kill. Her blue eyes narrowed as she spotted her target. She reached the edge of the dance floor. Time to go. She began to saunter over to the body guard stationed at the side door. Seriously what was it with all of these evil crime lords and their dance clubs? She couldn't count the number of times she had had to break into their offices located at their "trendy clubs". Oh well, it only made it easier for her. As she made eye contact with the guard about to dish out her best seductive smile, something to her left caught her eye. She couldn't be sure but she thought she saw a flash of shocking blond hair and an expensive suit leaving the second door to the rear offices.
She quickly spun on her heels and scanned the crowd. Damn it! There he was...Sark, no doubt leaving with the disk she had just been attempting to steal for herself. Only one thing to do now. Much to the dissapointment of the guard she had been approaching, she turned and began to push back though the crowd, this time in the direction of the cocky assassin making his way towards the door.
She stepped out of the club and breathed in the welcome scent of fresh air and began to scan the area for Sark,only to have her breathing violently cut off by a hand wrapped around her throat. She cursed herself as she felt a familiar body press against her back as a head leaned in to whisper in her ear. "Looking for me, Ms. Bowen?"
Damn him and his accent! She could feel herself leaning into his touch as his other hand wrapped around her torso locking her arms in place. Not the time to be thinking like that, she was a professional god damn it! He would kill her without a second glance she knew and she needed that disk or her boss would kill her on first glance.
"Mr. Sark what a pleasant surprise" she choked out. That hand on her neck was going to have to go. While her upper arms were held in place by his arm she was able to discreetly reach her hand up the side of her skirt to the small gun concealed there. Yet another advantage of slutty clothes, easy access to weapons.
"Tsk tsk tsk, you almost sound disappointed" Sark commented as he leaned in closer to her face his lips a mere breath away from her ear. Elizabeth took this slight distraction as cue to kick out with her leg and make Sark loosen her grip on her. She quickly spun around and trained her gun on the cocky Brit.
"Not disappointed in the least, you are just the person I was looking for, I believe you have something that belongs to me." she stated as she cocked her gun.
"Oh really, and what, may I ask, would that be Ms. Bowen?" Sark replied, showing no shock or fear at the turn of events.
"How about you just hand over the disk and end this little charade Sark?" Elizabeth stated as she glared at the man in front of her. He was so damn sexy she really just wanted to drop her gun and get on to other more interesting things, involving him and her and finding out exactly what lie beneath those expensive suits he always wore. No no no! Bullet in the head! Just because she found him undeniably sexy didn't mean he would hesitate to shoot her in the head. 'Bullet in the head' always seemed to be the mantra she stuck to whenever she was around Sark. It helped her keep her focus and not delve ino fantasies that were better off being ignored.
"Well, I am afraid we have a problem, Ms Bowen, because I am not inclined to meet your demands" Sark smirked as he stepped closer to her. Elizabeth fought the urge to step back and stood her ground.
"Well, you might want to rethink your..." she was cut off as Sark grabbed her wrist and twisted her arm painfully behind her back causing her to drop the gun and bringing her back once again in contact with his front. Damn him to hell she thought as she cursed herself for losing concentration. At least this time he wasn't cutting off her air supply.
"Rethink what, exactly" Sark teased as leaned in and sniffed her neck. She unconsciously tilted her head giving him better access. "You know I saw you on the dance floor inside, and I must say, this...dress...of yours" Sark began as he trailed his hand up her exposed thigh to the edge of her very short skirt ostensibly to check for more concealed weapons, "really does wonders for you my dear."
"Sark..." Elizabeth began only to stop as she felt his hand move up to her hip and draw her even closer to his hard body.
"You know this disk you mentioned...well, I think we might be able to come to some sort of agreement." Sark said as his lips brushed against her exposed neck and his hand traveled to her run along her stomach, all the while still holding her arm pinned behind her back.
"And what kind of agreement would that be?" Elizabeth sighed as Sark continued his ministrations on her neck and stomach.
"Oh, I think you know what kind of agreement I am looking for" Sark replied as he spun around her and pressed her back against the wall with a dull thud. "You give me the artifact you stole from me in Revenna and I will share the information on this disk with you."
"Oh" Elizabeth replied. She tried to fight off the disappointment that coursed through her body. Bullet in the head, she reminded herself yet again. "You're still sore about that one, are you?" she couldn't help but tease.
"Do we have an agreement Ms. Bowen?" Sark demanded as his grip tightened around her.
"I suppose so, you know as well as I do that I can't show up without this disk." Elizabeth begrudgingly gave in. She hated making any concessions to the cocky bastard. The numerous occasions where they had run into each other in the field seemed to always end with him coming out slightly ahead. She was tired of losing to him. Well at least there hadn't been a bullet to the head, she consoled herself. She was able to hold her own against him, just not defeat him.
"I am so happy we could come to an arrangement Ms. Bowen" Sark drawled as he leaned into her.
"Oh get off me already!" Elizabeth growled as she pushed him away. Any attraction she had been feeling was washed away by the overwhelming sense of defeat. There was nothing she hated more than losing.