A/N: Been batting this idea around for a while, thought I'd try and flesh it out while I could and hopefully convince my muse to come back and let me finish my other CSI: Miami story if I got this one out of the way.

Chapter 1

She had appeared from the shadows quietly and gotten his attention just as quietly. Pretty, with brown hair in a clip, and brown eyes, she wasn't wearing anything that suggested she was looking to get laid or even meet the opposite sex; jeans, soft cashmere sweater in a pretty shade of blue, flat boots, and a sheepskin jacket. Having just broken up with Detective Jessica Angell, he wasn't looking but she caught his attention just the same. He offered to buy her a drink, and she accepted, asking for a non-alcoholic drink. The waitress suggested a Virgin Raspberry Daiquiri once she learned that the lady was sensitive to alcohol and preferred to simply avoid alcohol all together rather than take her chances with something that might or might not affect her.

Don had never heard of anyone being sensitive to alcohol and figured he could ask his friend, Sheldon, about that later. For now he was content to let his new friend avoid alcohol; he figured it was a guarantee that she would remain sober around him.

She said her name was Bella Donald and yes, she was new to the area but not new to New York. She seemed a bit shy and a bit hesitant at first but he turned on the charm and she began to warm up. He learned that she worked at a bakery during the day, helping turn out pastries and bread. When, after she'd finished her drink, he suggested a dance, she readily accepted and he quickly found out why; Bella was an excellent dancer and the music seemed to love her as much as she seemed to love it.

While they were on the dance floor something happened. Her perfume caught his attention and so did the soft curves of her body. She seemed to like being touched and seemed to like touching him; he made a point of touching and holding her every chance he got while they were on the dance floor and he watched as her eyes seemed to darken at the contact. She was aware.

When he suggested they get out of the bar, which was starting to get a bit crowded, she readily agreed and they left after paying the tab. A suggested walk lead them to a nearby park and they just talked, him tucking her sheepskin-glove-covered hands in the crook of his arm. They traded stories, her telling him about some of the more amusing moments of working in a bakery and him with his cop stories. She had a nice laugh.

He wasn't sure how it happened but it did; one minute they were talking and the next they were kissing. Her first kiss had been a bit hesitant, almost as if she wasn't sure, but that quickly vanished and Don realized that underneath her prettiness was very definitely a woman and a passionate one at that. Not only was she passionate but she was also hungry, judging by the way she couldn't seem to get enough of his kisses.

"I know this might be a bit presumptuous but..." he managed to get out between kisses.

"Your place," she said huskily. "Or at least I hope that's the correct answer."

"That's an answer I like a lot," he said, finding her neck and causing her to moan and arch against him. "Car?"

"Cabbed it and walked," she said.

"In that case it's a good thing I'm parked not too far from here," he said.

"Uh-huh."

He was not quite sure how they managed to make it back to his apartment, only that they did. Once they were inside, however, she got a little bit shy, looking around hesitantly as he took her coat and let her remove her riding boots.

"Are you okay?" he asked, concerned.

She blushed. "I don't normally, well, go with a guy I've only just met. I'm not saying I want things to stop, I'm just... I don't really have a lot of experience with guys."

He smiled. "It's okay; I'm not in any hurry." But I am going to need a stiff drink if this keeps up, he thought. "Coffee?"

She nodded, relaxing a bit. He went into the kitchen and she followed, her socked feet barely making a sound on the floor. "This is a nice place," she commented.

He shrugged as he poured a cup of coffee from the coffee machine and popped it in the microwave. "It's home."

"Always a good thing to have," she said, crossing her arms across her chest and rubbing her arms.

"Cold?" he asked, noticing.

"A bit. Sorry."

"Don't be. This place usually is a bit cool in the evenings. C'mere," he said. She may have been shy but she was clearly still comfortable with him because she went to him eagerly and he wrapped his arms around her, rubbing her back and arms as he attempted to warm her up as well as help her relax. She snuggled against him willingly and her perfume tickled his senses again. It was something slightly floral but fruity, something nice.

She looked up at him and as he watched, her eyes darkened again. And he was burying his hands in her hair, pulling it free of the clip, and tilting her face to just the right angle for his mouth.

Somehow they made it to his bedroom, removing clothes as they went. In the bedroom he took a quick time-out to notice her pretty blue lace and embroidery-patterned bra and matching panty; she definitely seemed to like the pretty things. Then the bra was gone and her breasts were spilling into his hands.

If there was one thing Don loved when it came to women, it was breasts and he loved them even more when they were natural. He had learned how to tell when a woman had increased her bust-line via surgery and it always seemed to turn him off because no matter how hard he tried or how well the surgery had been done, the woman's breasts always felt, well, fake.

But not Bella. Oh no. She might have been on the slightly small side, possibly only a B, but she was all natural and one hundred percent perfect, at least in his eyes.

She was also very, very sexually hungry as evident by the fact that she couldn't seem to stop touching him or kissing him. It was as if she'd given herself permission to let go and to be a woman at her most basic. She might have claimed to not having much experience with guys but what she started doing to him when she got him out of his shorts was the stuff of wet dreams.

"I thought you said you didn't have much experience with guys," he managed to get out.

She looked up and grinned. "I read, Don, and Cosmo has an excellent section on guys and the bedroom."

"That explains it."

He only just remembered the condom in time.

Afterwards they lay there, talking quietly. He commented on the elegant silver and gold Crusader's Cross that hung on a slender chain around her neck and she admitted it had once belonged to her mother, who had died from cancer when Bella had been in her early teens.

"Any other family?" he asked.

She shrugged. "Dad remarried when I was about sixteen and I have an older sister, nobody I really care to talk about. They do their thing, I do mine. You?"

"A sister, Samantha, and a brother, Jake, plus my parents. Sam's in a bit of trouble, fighting with alcohol and all that, and I hear from Jake once in a while," he said. "Keep in touch with my parents, join them for dinner once in a while."

"What about this?" he asked, commenting on the wide sterling silver and Australian opal ring on the index finger of her right hand.

"Ah, my version of a grad ring," she said. "Didn't care for the dinky little college rings they were showing at college, so I went to this place in one of the local malls and picked out this one."

"What did you take while you were in college?" he asked.

"Hmm? Oh, clerical-type courses. I'm comfortable with legal and medical terminology and the various computer programs that go with it, but I like working in the bakery more than working at a desk. Took the programs just to keep Dad happy and assure him that yes, I am trying to do something useful with my life."

"He doesn't see working in a bakery as useful?"

"Neither do my stepmother or sister; no ladders to climb, no contacts or power to accumulate," she said. A look of distaste crossed her face. "I don't particularly care for the political game."

"But your sister and your stepmother do," he guessed.

"They do their thing, I do my thing, and I try and stay out of their reach and their problems," she said.

"And your dad?"

She sighed heavily. "Dad does what Dad does, which, in this case, is own several businesses and he also plays the political game, although I think he's starting to get tired of it, based on what little he says and what little I hear."

"Let me guess; you've learned to read between the lines."

"I may not like the game of politics but that doesn't mean I don't know how to read people in the game," she confessed. "After all, sometimes life is politics; the players just don't always wear suits and ties and debate things in an office or boardroom."

She had a point there.

At some point or another, they fell asleep only to wake up later and have sex all over again, this time a bit more slower. Once again they fell asleep, spent both sexually and physically. In the morning, after another round of sex, he fed her breakfast, gave her his number, and saw her to a cab. Then he continued on to work, feeling good about life and himself.

"You have a good night, Don?" Danny Messer asked as he caught up to his friend at his desk.

Don smiled at his friend. "Not telling."

"You don't have to," Danny replied. And he handed him a copy of the local tabloid paper, watching as watched as Don's face went pale. "The Post is a bit better, but not by much."

"Give," Don said, wiggling his fingers even as a cold anger began to fill him. Danny quietly handed him the paper and watched as he read the article, titled Reclusive Desmond Daughter Cuts Loose. The article went on to say how one Rose-Marie Desmond had been spotted at a local bar getting cozy with a guy and had left shortly afterwards with him. Sources indicated Rose-Marie had not gone home that night but had, in fact, spent the night with the unknown guy, leaving the writer to speculate that maybe, just maybe the reclusive Desmond girl was finally starting to come out of her shell and join the ranks of her stepmother and sister. Accompanying the article was a color photo of him and Bella on the dance floor, during what he guessed was one of their more cozier moments, neither one of them aware they were being photographed. Or so it seemed.

Snarling something ugly, Don crumpled the newspaper and threw it across the room viciously.