No one top Damon Salvatore's bid for the painting. Elena gasped when she found out he had bid ten thousand dollars for Katherine's painting. Inside her head, Damon's words echoed. I'd really like to have that painting.

Did he always get what he wants? Elena wondered.

Soon after the winning bidders for all the items were announced at the end of the evening, there was a stampede for the doors. Elena moved in the opposite direction. An employee of the facility helped her carry the paintings to a utility room where she replaced them in the crates designed for transporting them safely. Fortunately, a courier had been hired to deliver all the auction items that couldn't be carried out by their new owners, relieving Elena of having to deliver the painting personally to Damon Salvatore. It had been a long day and she was tired. She felt drained, both physically and emotionally.

When she returned to her house, she hadn't been able to sleep. She had tossed and turned in her bed thinking about his voice, his eyes, his touch and his smell. She hadn't seen him for ten years now. Elena had decided long ago that Damon was very attractive and oh yeah, the lust part had popped up suddenly when she had seen him at seventeen. Now, at the age of twenty-seven, she still thought he was the most devastatingly handsome, dangerous man she had ever seen. Frustrated as hell, her body still reacted like crazy when Damon was near her.

What time had she finally given in and passed out? Her eyes went to the clock, realizing with shock that it was almost noon. Generally, an early riser, she had never slept this late, even on the weekend. She slid out of the bed and went straight to the shower before changing into a turquoise blue top and black blazer. This was the first time she was ever late for work. Snatching up her keys, she slammed her feet into the nearest pair of boots and exited the door of the house, not even flinching when it slammed violently behind her.

When Elena arrived at the art gallery, she saw April and a man. Brightly April said, "Oh, here she is now."

The man with whom April had been speaking to turned around. Elena drew up short, and for a moment her breath stopped.

Damon Salvatore wearing a self-congratulatory smile for having jerked the rug out from her said pleasantly, "Good afternoon."

She found enough voice to return the greeting.

"Mr Salvatore was already here when I arrived to open," April said. "I wasn't sure what time you would be back but he was happy to wait until you got here."

Behind his back, April was grinning and bobbing her eyebrow. Elena could practically hear her saying What a hottie!

He was wearing a grey long-sleeve T-shirt and dark jeans, looking as good as he was when he was in suit. Elena dragged his eyes off him and asked casually, "What can I do for you?"

"I need you to hang my painting."

"What?" Her eyes widened to give him a surprised look.

"You heard me."

"Why?" She was too stunned by his request. Was it a joke?

"You are the arty type. I trust your judgement," he said, his voice nonchalant, though his eyes smouldered.

No. Not happening, big guy. If I get that close to you again, I'll get lost in your scent, drown in those baby blues. Elena knew if she let him too close to her, the carefully built façade that she had worked so hard to perfect over the years would crumble.

"Sorry, we don't provide that kind of service," she answered and walked past him before walking into the small office behind. She sighed when she saw a dozen of red tulips on her desk again. When would this stop? She wondered.

"What is this? Are you turning your office into a jungle paradise?" Damon stood near the doorway.

"None of your business." She dropped her burgundy satchel on her chair.

"Who sent them? Tarzan of the jungle?" He wandered into the room but his gaze never left her face. "Your secret admirer?"

She gritted her teeth. "You are teasing me, aren't you?"

He shrugged casually. "Just curious."

"I have work to do, Damon."

"I know very little about art, actually." He looked at her with pleading eyes. "Care to help me a little? Please?"

"Damon, I told you we don't provide that kind of service."

"Why don't you help Mr Salvatore, Elena?" April interrupted as she poked her head around the office door. "I can stay and look after the gallery."

Elena glared at her before turning to face Damon. "Okay, I will help you. Let's go."

Smiling, Damon walked toward her. "I have the walls repainted first. But we can talk over lunch."

"Lunch?" Elena repeated, thinking madly for a way to avoid it.

"Don't tell me you've already eaten, because I won't believe you," he said.

She moved away from him. "Uh…I have work to do."

"You have to stop and eat something. I need to eat too." He wasn't going to let her talk her way out of it.

"I can grab a sandwich later."

"No. You need to eat properly. You are already too thin."

She looked down, surprised at the observation. "I'm too thin?"

Too harsh a word, he thought. He smiled at her easily and touched her arm gently. "All right, slender, on the way to thin." His voice lowered without his being aware of it, his eyes whispering along her skin until they reached her face. "A man likes to have something to hold on to."

With a deliberate move, she disengaged herself. "All right, lunch. Let's get something at the Grill which is just around the corner. That way I can get back to work afterward."

He was already leading her toward the front door of the art gallery. "Funny, I had the same thought."

She looked up at his face and saw things she didn't want to see in his eyes. There was something dangerous to her peace of mind there, and yet thrilling because of it. "No, you didn't."

The smile on his face had her blood warming. "Ah, you have found me out."

x x x

Neither of them spoke again until they reached the entrance of Mystic Grill, one of the most popular bars and cafés in Mystic Falls. The place was redolent with the aromas of fresh-baked bread and the yeasty smells of beer, the fruity bouquet of inexpensive wine. It was always crowded during lunch hour, and Elena realized there were several people whom she knew dining there. Judging from their shocked stares, they recognized Damon and were undoubtedly wondering why she was lunching with a Salvatore because of the feud between the two families.

"Maybe this wasn't such a good idea," she whispered to Damon.

"Don't be ridiculous. You don't give a darn about that stupid feud. Ancient history, remember?" He secured a booth and slid into the seat.

"You are right." She slid in across from him.

"Besides, I'm starving. I'm not going to walk further."

"People are staring at us."

"Yeah?" He glanced around curiously, nodded civilly at the people he recognised and then turned his attention back to the menu. "So what? You are a Gilbert. I'm a Salvatore. Put the two together in this town and you are bound to get a few stares."

"It doesn't bother you?"

"Nope."

"Of course, a few stares don't bother you," she muttered. "You are a Salvatore."

"You got that right."

A waiter brought a jug of water and two glasses. He asked if they had time to look at the menu.

"I will have a beer on tap and a fish burger with fries." He looked up from the menu. "Decided what you want, Elena?"

"A vegetarian burger, please. And an iced tea."

When the waiter had departed with their order, Damon leaned back against the seat and watched Elena. "Do you come here often?"

"Yes. The Grill is a popular hangout place for most people living here." She picked up the jar of water and poured herself a glass. "Do I look like I don't get out much?"

"Been a while. Just catching up."

"You and I don't have any catching up to do. We hardly even know each other."

"We know each other. We spent one night together," he emphasized meaningfully, deliberately trying to make her blush again.

Pointedly ignoring his sexual reference, she asked as she watched him expectantly, "So, how long, exactly, do you think you will stay in Mystic Falls?"

"Two weeks." Damon waited a beat. "But I may stay longer if things change."

"What do you mean?"

"I will stay as long as I'm wanted here." His eyes grew stormy as he shot her a look so intense, she could feel heat wash over every inch of her body.

Elena was actually grateful to see an older, dark-haired waitress coming to deliver their drinks. As the waitress left, she picked up her cup and took a sip of the tea. "What about your work? Can you take time off?"

"I have an excellent team in Salvatore Corporate who works real hard for me. I brought my computer and my fax machines and there's always the phone. I don't see any reason why I can't handle anything that might come up at Salvatore Corporate."

"Caroline is right," Elena said flatly. "Something weird is going on here."

"Caroline?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. "What has this to do with her?"

"She said there must be a reason for you to come back here but nobody's sure what you will do next and you move too fast."

"Am I moving too fast for you?"

"That's a very leading question," she replied as she studied Damon more closely. Something dangerous moved beneath the cool, controlled surface he presented to the world.

"That's why I asked it," he smiled, his eyes glinting with a wickedly mocking light.

Another waiter came to deliver their burgers before Elena could response to his statement. After the waiter left, they ate in silence for a moment.

"Where are you staying at the moment?" She took a mouthful of her vegetarian burger. "You said having your walls repainted earlier."

"I'm staying in the Salvatore boarding house."

There was a moment of acute shock. The Salvatore Boarding House was built in 1914 and was home to members of the Salvatore Family until they moved to Washington DC. The Boarding House was said to be one of the creepiest places in Mystic Falls. There were some crazy talks that the house was haunted by the ghosts of the Salvatore ancestors.

He glanced at her, brows raised. "What?" he asked amused.

"Uh, haven't you heard about the rumours of the house being haunted?" she asked weakly.

He laughed softly. "Don't tell me you believe that kind of nonsense."

Elena said nothing.

Damon blinked. Then his mouth curved slowly into a grin. "You really believe that."

"Well, the house was built more than a hundred years ago. Most people in town don't really go near the place…"

Damon's grin metamorphosed into a chuckle. The chuckle erupted into a full-throated roar of laughter.

She watched him, wondering if he was going to fall out of his chair. It took a while for him to pull himself together. Damon's shoulders eventually stopped shaking. He sprawled in the chair, one hand on his flat belly, and subsided slowly into a grin.

"Sorry." He didn't sound sorry at all.

"I'm glad you find it so amusing."

"Of course I find it amusing. Elena Gilbert believes in ghosts and haunted house." He chuckled. "Who would guess that?"

"If this is your idea of insulting me, I—" She broke off, stiffening in her chair. "Oh, damn."

"What's wrong?"

"Caroline." Elena stared past him toward the door.

"Caroline?" He turned to follow her gaze. At that moment Caroline caught sight of both of them. Her smile was the sort a woman bestows on a long-lost pal and she started across the restaurant.

"Do you think she is following me around?" Damon turned back to his burger.

She frowned. "There is absolutely no reason for her to do that."

"She is a reporter. She wants a story."

Her brows came together in a sharp frown. "You think Caroline wants your story?"

"Obviously."

"For goodness sake –"

"Damon and Elena." Caroline came to a halt beside the table before Elena could finish her sentence. "What a pleasant surprise."

"Uh, Damon and I are just talking about paintings." She knew it was a pretty lame excuse.

Caroline glanced at her and then Damon, brows raised. "Really? I never thought a business man like you is interested in arts."

"I'm not the arty type but there is no harm in learning new things. Right, Elena?" He asked amused.

Elena gave him what she hoped was a silencing glare. She got one of his bright just-try-to-shut-me-up looks in return.

"Have you eaten?" she quickly added to change the subject. "Do you want to join us?"

"No, I can't. I'm here to do some work." She turned her attention to Damon. "We should definitely find a time to chat."

"Sure. We will find a time." Damon smiled politely.

Caroline inclined her head. "Wonderful. Now I'll let you two get back to your meal. Have a nice afternoon."

She walked away toward the booth at the rear.

"I think I'm going to hide from Caroline for the next two weeks," Damon murmured beneath the hum of background chatter.

"And why is that?" Elena looked amused.

"She talks more than I can listen."

She tried to swallow a giggle. "Caroline does have some really annoying traits, but we've been friends since the first grade and that means something to me."

"Duly noted." He grinned. "But I bet she still drives you crazy at times."

"You are a dick." She couldn't stop grinning herself.

They enjoyed their drinks and lunch with companionable conversation. Elena had heard all about his accomplishments at Salvatore Corporate, but she was curious about how good he really was. She began questioning him about his work. By the time the waiter cleared away their luncheon plates, he had told her about some of his projects. She was impressed by his dedication and intelligence, his enthusiasm and, most of all, his courage and wit. She had no doubt that he was one hell of an executive—possibly even a gifted executive.

Damon swallowed his entire plate of fish burger with fries and finished hers when she couldn't eat another bite. He ordered them each a tiramisu and a second drink. The dessert was delicious, but she couldn't finish it. Of course, he was willing to polish that off for her, too. The man could put away a lot of food, Elena thought.

"How do you maintain such an incredible body when you eat like that?" she asked him, wanting to kick herself for wording it quite that way.

His eyes shot to her face, his expression mischievous. "Incredible, huh?"

She shrugged. What was the point in denying it? His body was incredible. "Well, it is." Incredible. Rock-hard and sexy as hell. The hottest body on the planet.

"I hate gym but I go for a run every morning and sometime in the evenings too. If you think I look good, I guess it's worth it," his incredulous voice informed her.

Oh, hell yeah. Way worth it.

"It shows," she choked out, trying not to be obvious about the fact that she wanted to jump his bones in about a hundred different ways. "It's one of the reasons that women like Caroline fall all over you. Not the only reason, but one of them." Oh, shit. Had she really said that out loud? She needed to bite her tongue.

"You sound jealous."

"If I sound jealous," Elena retorted, leaning closer across the table, "then there's something terribly wrong with your hearing!"

Damon said nothing for a moment. He tipped up his bottle, finishing the last of his beer. "Got an idea," he said after a while.

"What?"

"Why don't you eat at my place tonight? I've got plenty of food."

Her eyes widened. Dinner with Damon alone at his house? There must be something seriously wrong with her ears.

"Are you afraid?" He smirked. "Just admit it. I won't laugh at you."

"Why should I be afraid?" she argued. "I'm not a kid anymore. I – I don't believe in ghosts or haunted house."

"Okay. Fine. It's settled."