Rogue was fast asleep when Remy came to their room. In his absence, she had taken up most of the bed, and sprawled comfortably on her stomach in a deep sleep.

She was perfect. He didn't dare disturb her from her slumber. All he wanted to do was memorize the soft, peaceful look on her face and the way her arm hugged his pillow. There was no possible way he could regret making her his when she looked like that. It was selfish and he knew it. Henri's words bore down on him, and he knew his brother was right. But Remy was keeping her, and he refused to acknowledge that maybe he'd ruined her life. A life he hadn't bothered to investigate at all prior to his decision to trick her into marriage.

Ever so gently, he leaned down and carefully scooped her up in the blankets and over to her side of the bed. He was a dead man if she woke up in his arms. He had promised he wouldn't touch her, but he also didn't want to wake her up. She looked so content. It was a poor excuse when he really just wanted to hold her. Thankfully, she was out like a light and didn't so much as stir as he held her.

He wasn't so lucky with the encounter. Every inch of his body stirred the second she was in his arms. He almost didn't want to put her down. Remy instantly loved the feel of her against him. He wanted to have full permission to her body so badly that it ached.

With great effort, he let go of her and she settled instinctively onto her side of the bed. He let out a deep sigh. For at least the third time this evening, she had managed to ignite his body with a want and a need for her.

It was maddening that he had her, but couldn't have her the way he wanted. He really hadn't thought his actions through on this one. He hadn't thought about how agonizing it would be to sleep day in, day out beside the temptress who wanted nothing to do with him while he wanted everything to do with her.

She was right. He was going to be best friends with his hand. But he'd much rather be best friends with hers. She had no idea the power she held over him. He had been very wrong about making her his by the end of the week. He had learnt quickly that she was much too stubborn, too willful and too temperamental for that. If anything, he'd be the one begging her to quench his rising desire.

As he climbed into bed, his spot was still warm from her body. It was an entirely new kind of hell for him. It was risky, but he moved closer to the center of the bed, facing her. He wanted to be as close to her as he could, silently begging for her to cuddle up against him in her sleep.

It was hardly thrilling news at all to her. Going to Moscow was not on her list of things she wanted to do. Rogue especially didn't enjoy the idea of going alone with Remy. For the most part, he seemed to behave himself around the manor, mostly under the watchful eye of his older brother.

Rogue noticed that it was Henri who managed to keep Remy in line, and not his father. Jean-Luc had a temper, but no control what so ever over his younger son. In that respect, Rogue picked up quickly that Remy was quite spoiled, often getting his way regardless. The fact that she was now married to him more than proved that.

Jean-Luc was red in the face again as her still-packed bags were being loaded onto the family's private jet. It was obvious that she was not supposed to be going with Remy. But Remy had a different opinion about that, and Remy always seemed to get what he wanted.

As usual, Remy seemed more than pleased with himself. She imagined he was congratulating himself in his head on a job well done. Remy got what he wanted, while Henri kept the peace and cleaned up after him. Rogue felt like smacking him. He had such little concern for anyone's feelings but his own that it made her sick. It was infuriating that she could have a mild attraction to someone with such serious personality faults.

When they were thousands of feet up in the air, she flat out told him exactly what she thought of him, "You are the most selfish, self-centered person I have ever met."

Remy just stared blankly at her.

"Did you want to be left by yourself with my family?"

She paused a moment. No, no she did not. "Not really," she answered. "But that's not why you brought me. How I feel has very little to do with you."

"I'm sorry you believe that, ma petite. Contrary to what you think, I am quite concerned with how you feel."

She gave a sharp, sarcastic laugh. "If you actually gave a damn as to how I felt, you never would have forced this marriage on me."

"When do you plan on letting that go?"

"Letting it go? I've been with you for a little over a week! I have every right to be furious with you."

"You weren't this angry yesterday."

"Yesterday you didn't put me on a plane to Russia!"

"I hardly see the problem. You already said you didn't want to stay at the manor, and you hadn't unpacked your bags. Consider this a honeymoon." He gave her the same shameless grin he wore that night on her bed when his pants had been undone.

"I don't want to be alone with you in a foreign country!" she cried in exasperation.

"Mon Dieu, when you say it like that, it sounds like I'm evil."

"You are evil," she muttered under her breath. There was absolutely no use in getting him to see any reason but his own.

"I promise we'll be here a day or two tops," Remy answered, ignoring her underhanded remarks. "Guild business. The sooner we finish, the sooner we can go to New York."

She hated that he just had to throw the 'we' in there. She didn't want him to come to New York with her. What she wanted most was to simply be rid of this man and his family's silly notions and laws.

She wanted her own room back. She wanted to sleep alone. She didn't want to be married to him. And most of all, she didn't want to have her body go all tingly whenever he was around her. She hated the stirring of emotions he seemed to call forth in her.

She ignored him and gave him the silent treatment the rest of the trip.

He laughed.

Moscow was freezing and she hated it. It seemed she hated a heck of a lot of things these days, Remy being number one on her list.

He had checked them into a ridiculously expensive hotel room and left her there.

By herself.

And she hated it.

For all the bitching and moaning she had done about wanting to be left alone, she'd gotten her wish. And for some stupid, God damned reason she hated that too. She had nothing to do but watch foreign TV shows that she didn't understand. She couldn't even read a newspaper for crying out loud! She had no bathing suit, so she couldn't use the pool or hot tub. To say she was ornery was an understatement.

He'd left her alone in a foreign country and had not said a word as to what it was he was off doing. Some f-ing honeymoon. She'd rather be back in New Orleans apologizing to Henri for his younger brother's selfish, spoiled brat behaviour. Instead, she was trapped in some hotel room in some bitter cold county. Alone.

She was annoyed beyond reason when he phoned their room, ordering her to wear something flexible and to meet him downstairs in the lobby. All at once she remembered why she wanted to be left alone. It was funny how as soon as he was gone, she had forgotten how irritating he really was. Sucking it up, she changed clothes and met him in the lobby.

He led her quietly along the hallway and ducked through a door labelled 'Staff Only'. She followed him, wondering what they were doing when he stopped at a small chute in the wall.

"Can you fit through there?" he asked, pointing at the chute.

Her lip curled up slightly in disbelief. He had to be kidding.

"I'm not crawling down that," she answered indignantly.

He was already pulling the small chute door open. "You won't be crawling down. I need you to climb up."

Her hands were on her hips in immediate displeasure. "I am not climbing up a laundry chute."

"Yes, you are," he answered firmly. "My shoulders are too broad. I can't fit."

"I don't care," she hissed. "I refuse to climb up a laundry chute for reasons unknown."

"I need you to gain access to the fourteenth floor."

"You want me to climb a laundry chute fourteen floors!" she almost yelled.

"You are fit enough to do that, non?"

"Yes!" she snapped. "It still doesn't mean I'm going to."

"Je le jure devant Dieu, if I have to shove you into that hole myself, I'll do it," Remy hissed back. Clearly, his patience over the matter was gone.

"Is that a threat?" she asked angrily.

He jabbed a grey elevator card at her. "Take this card, climb up the chute and unlock the elevator. You have fifteen minutes to gain me access to the floor. This isn't a game, Chere."

Glaring, she snatched the card from him, and proceeded to gingerly peer into the hole. She let out a shriek as he grabbed her by the waist and began stuffing her through the narrow opening.

"Ow! Hold on, you bastard!" she snarled. "Let me get a grip first!" She gasped in venomous rage as she felt his hands land firmly on her ass, giving her a final shove into the chute. "Asshole!" she cursed. "I'll break your fingers for that!"

"Fifteen minutes," he instructed coldly, closing the chute door.

He was such a dead man when she got out of this.

Fifteen minutes later, she was dirty, sweaty and sore, but on the fourteenth floor. She hurried to the elevator to swipe the key card. Like clockwork, the minute she had unlocked the elevator, Remy was on his way up.

His eyebrows creased together when he met her at the elevator doors. "You look like hell," he commented

She fought the urge to slap him across the face the again.

He smiled brightly, and actually reached out and tussled her hair affectionately. "Aw, Chere, don't look at me like that. We wouldn't want your face to get stuck." He sidled past her with a cocky swagger to match the grin.

She was going to kill him. She really was.

Rogue followed Remy in bitter silence. He stopped at a room and expertly picked the lock. When the door was open, he quickly ushered her inside with him.

She opened her mouth to ask him what they were doing when he put his finger to his lips in a hushing motion.

"Don't touch anything," he whispered.

She had to strain to hear him.

Not sure what they were doing or what was going on, she stayed very close to him. With a strict obedience, she kept her hands to herself and her mouth shut. She was terribly afraid of what they were doing. Surely this wasn't legal or for the purpose of saving mutant kind. It made her anxious and giddy at the same time. It was exhilarating, and her whole body seemed to wake up with anticipation and adrenaline.

Remy found what he was looking for—a safe hidden within the wall. He went to work with speed and agility. She'd never seen him act so focused or professional.

It was hot.

Watching Remy safe crack was like watching a man fix things. It was instantly attractive. The knowledge and skill he possessed as his fingers worked the dial in a combination of patience and dedication was intoxicating. Rogue silently admired his ass as he bent over to press his ear to the door. It was unnecessarily cruel that such a boorish and repugnant man was trapped inside that gorgeous exterior. Jerks shouldn't be allowed to look that good. She was appalled at just how attractive she found him physically right now.

She stepped back guiltily when he abruptly turned his head to her.

"You wanna try it?" he asked softly, barely making a sound.

She shook her head no, taking another step back. There was no way…

He gently caught her arm and reeled her over to him, guiding her in between himself and the safe. Her body quivered in an electric tingle having him so close behind her. A mere step back and her body would be pressed up against his. She inhaled sharply as his right hand rested on top of hers, slowly moving it onto the safe's dial.

"Ear to the door," he whispered.

His voice sent tremors through her body. She immediately pressed her ear to the safe door, effectively moving herself further away from him. It gave her little relief, since he closed the gap between them quickly.

Again he whispered instructions into her ear, "Turn the dial slowly." His hand moved hers, nudging the dial in the right direction.

Pressed up against a wall with him at her back did nothing good for her imagination. Thank God he was intent on the job, rather than her. The mixture of adrenaline, excitement and terror was the headiest of concoctions. She couldn't think of a single moment in her life where she had felt exactly like this.

"Now, listen for the clicks," he murmured, his voice nipping suggestively at her ears.

All she wanted to do was lean back into that solid body behind her and let that voice coax her into something more forbidden than safe cracking. Never had a man affected her in this way. She had never allowed herself to stay in such close proximity with someone like this before.

"Almost… wait for it… and voilà!" he spoke in a low, husky tone.

She silenced a soft moan before it escaped her lips. The safe door sprang open. Startled by the sudden, unexpected movement she jumped back, knocking against his frame. He gave a breathy laugh, and quickly enveloped her body with his as he reached to open the safe door all the way.

"Easy, Chere, it's just the spring on the door."

She let out a small, nervous laugh. She watched as one hand removed a small black box, no bigger than a necklace box, and replaced it with a replica that appeared out of nowhere in his other hand.

She was completely trapped within his arms and the wall. It made all the difference to her body, but hardly any difference to him. His mind was focused on the job, despite her being pressed up against him. The box was tucked into his pocket while he closed the safe door. He gave the dial a quick spin, making it lock again.

He pulled away from her, and she almost objected out loud, stopping herself at the last minute. He was already across the room to the exit when he realized she wasn't following him. He turned to look at her, tilting his head in confusion, before he slowly walked back to her.

"Chere?" he asked quietly. "You alright?"

She had no idea what the expression on her face looked like, but 'needy' was probably a good word to use. His demeanour changed quickly as he stepped closer to her, reading her thoughts and expression better than anyone. He was in her personal space again, and electric anticipation sparked through her entire being. Completely be spelled, she allowed his arm to slide around her waist and tug her closer to him.

She made the mistake of tipping her head up towards his as he leaned in. His mouth parted slightly, and any second his lips would catch hers. He'd be unconscious in a room they'd broken into.

"Don't," she whispered in agony.

In the blink of an eye, he jerked away from her, like an invisible force had pulled him back. He cleared his throat in an effort to snap back into reality. "Thieves never linger at the scene," he answered briskly. "C'mon, let's go."

Obediently, she followed him from the room and back to theirs.

Remy retreated to their bathroom the moment they reached their room. He ran his hands through his hair in frustration. He couldn't believe he'd almost broken one of the cardinal rules in thieving. Never linger at a scene. Get in, get out and don't get caught.

He twisted the sink tap on and splashed cold water on his face in an effort to shake her from his brain. It had been a bad idea to bring her inside the room. He should have left her on guard outside in the hall. Jean-Luc would literally kill him if this job went bad. Luckily, it hadn't. She had objected to him and his advances. He could have sworn he'd read the signals she was sending out clearly. He could have sworn she had wanted him by that desperate look in her eye.

He'd been wrong. How he had managed to misread her was beyond him. It must have been being so close to her that did it. She hadn't moved away from him when she had jumped back into him in alarm. The safe door had opened, and she was up against him. Her body had been so soft and so warm pressed into his. It was a miracle he hadn't gotten a hard-on with her pert, little ass snug against his groin.

He had been able to fixate his attention on the safe and on the job, instead of on her. It had been his saving grace, until she had looked at him with such an intense need. Her lips had been lightly parted while her eyes displayed such a wanton lust that it took him only seconds to get to her.

He hadn't found anything wrong with the idea of slamming her up against the wall, or tugging her onto the bed for a quick, adrenaline fueled release.

In a room they had broken into.

It scared him.

In the very place he wasn't supposed to be, he had been willing to risk being caught just for a brief taste of her. Had she not stopped him, he would have made a huge, huge mistake. He'd never compromised a job before, never. He was a master thief for a reason, and in one terrifying instant, it almost came tumbling down.

He needed to get laid.

Once she was a notch on his belt, he'd be fine. He wouldn't have these crazy ideas to bed her wherever, regardless of where he was and what he was doing.

He splashed more water on his face. He had to get it together. The job wasn't finished yet. She was his wife. In theory, he could get a piece whenever he liked. He had her for the rest of his life. It could wait. He needed to stay focused on the job. Right now it was priority... sticking her wasn't.

But if he could convince her, it would make this trip a hell of a lot easier on him. Unfortunately, due to their current, unpleasant terms, showing up with erection and a smile was not going to cut it. It was liable to get him his ass handed to him on a silver platter.

Henri was right. He'd be unconscious most of the time in cold Russia if he kept this up. He had an itch, and as far as he could tell, she wouldn't be scratching it. There was no doubt in his mind; he was in for a long, rough night.

He had one solution. Take the edge off by himself. He quickly undid his pants and turned the shower on to drown out any noise. With the thought of her running through his head, it would no doubt be a quick one. A once off would get him through the night. He'd barely started when she knocked on the door.

"Can I use the bathroom before you have your shower?" she asked through the door.

He let out a small, unfair whimper. Having no other option, he furiously pulled off his clothing and grabbed a towel, wrapping it around his waist. He artfully covered up his arousal with his bunched up clothes and opened the door for her.

Her eyes fell on him in surprise, and he didn't dare look at her face. If he mistook her expression one more time, his lust would run rampant and he wouldn't trust himself anywhere near her.

The urge to get a few strokes in while she was out of the room was maddening, but he maintained his composure and dignity by a thread.

She opened the door several minutes later. "It's all yours," she said.

He gratefully bolted to the bathroom, locked the door, and climbed into the shower. He easily imagined she was with him, taking care of his need.

He was noticeably calmer after his shower. He didn't have that wild look in his eye anymore. It had been rather startling for Rogue when he'd opened the door wrapped in a towel, looking positively savage. For some stupid reason, it made her feel guilty interrupting him. She had no idea someone could look so bent out of shape postponing a shower for less than five minutes.

Again, it marked to her that he was used to having his way. She was the one who had to climb up a dirty chute, and he'd been the one to steal the shower. Heaven forbid he thought of someone else other than himself, and offer her the shower first. Knowing him, he'd probably used up all the hot water.

It was necessary to shift her mind to awful thoughts about him after the moment they'd shared on the fourteenth floor. She was embarrassed that she had almost been stupid enough to let him kiss her. That would have led to all sorts of problems. The most prominent being him unconscious in a room they'd broken into.

She had no idea what had gotten into her. The instant attraction she felt with him was horrific and frightening. He was a despicable man, proving it numerous times over to her, but she had loved feeling him against her. She cringed. The heat had been unbearable. The idea of his perfect lips caressing hers had more appeal than she ever wanted to admit.

No one had ever conjured up such filthy images in her mind. A low life jerk like him should not have been able to have such an effect on her. She blamed it on the B&E. It had made her feel dangerous and excited, even crazy. Crazy enough to lust after the spoiled Cajun.

Doing a fairly good job ignoring the clean, half dressed man in front of her, she proceeded to the bathroom to have her own shower.

"You're going to need to sleep after your shower, Chere," he instructed as he climbed into bed, wearing only his underwear. "Our job isn't finished yet, and it's going to be a late night."

Translations: "Je le jure devant Dieu" - "I swear to God"