Peyton isn't anywhere to be found when he rises and comes downstairs.

It's not ever so late. But a little later than his normal body clock would usually have him waking. He's sure his oversleeping has something to do with the long journey they had down here, that and the exhausting dinner he'd had to suffer through the previous night.

Haley. Well she was something else indeed. That's all he could say on the matter. He'd never experienced such detachment as he had from her. Peyton was difficult all right, but this Haley girl, well she wasn't willing to give him a chance. Not in the slightest. He'd lost before he'd even attempted to win her over.

He was certain Larry would have had to have been blind not to have noticed the blatant animosity emanating from the mousy haired girl.

She'd not stayed long, eaten and left as quickly as possible and Peyton had appeared nothing but relieved about her friend's departure, she too clearly having found the experience somewhat uncomfortable.

Haley's behaviour toward him had left him unable to relax for the rest of the evening nor easily find sleep, her animosity begging the question as to what it was she actually knew about him. He couldn't work it out. Nothing was making sense and that made for his irritable state of mind.

'Morning Larry. No Peyton?' Lucas asks as he finds Larry outside on the porch.

'Morning Lucas. No. She popped out rather hurriedly. Probably gone to see her Mother's grave. She only likes going by herself'

Larry's answer doesn't abate his unruly temperament, he's only further infuriated because she's gone out without telling him. Okay, that's not why he's so angry. He's angry at himself because he's pretty sure her disappearing act hasn't got anything to do with her deceased Mother because there's no chance she'd leave him entirely alone with her father, surely. He's screwed up his one and only aim to follow her every move this weekend, his one opportunity to find answers. He's been lulled into a false sense of security, had begun to question whether they'd got this all wrong but now he feels mislead because she's not here. She's not here and he doesn't know where she is or what she's doing or who she's talking to.

'Don't worry. She'll be back in no time' Larry misconstrues Lucas' expression as concern over his daughter's whereabouts.

He nods and excuses himself back inside.

He doesn't like being in the dark. Has lived a life of being left in the dark and as he marches upstairs it's these reminiscent feelings of negligence that govern his actions.

He won't be conned. Not by her.

Some fifteen minutes later he's so lost in his head, so caught up in his search of her Father's bedroom that he's deaf to her return home. Deaf to her greeting her Father on the porch. Deaf to her laughter. Deaf to her climbing up the stairs. Deaf to her searching for him. Deaf to the door opening.

'What're you doing?' She growls. 'How dare you?'

He doesn't know when he became so careless because he's never been caught, there are many situations that require his stealthily attributes but maybe his success in going unseen has to do with the many people that work for him. None the less he's taken off guard. And then she's hitting him and he's even more surprised.

'This is my Mothers stuff' She bleats.

'I'm sorry' He grabs a hold of her violent little hands and stops her persistent whacking. 'I was just looking'

'For what?'

'Nothing'

'I don't care what bit of paper I signed Lucas. I don't give a shit what agreement we have- owning me doesn't grant you to do what the hell you please. Especially not when it revolves around my family'

There's a fire in her eyes and for the first time he's not entertained by her scowling features, he's a little scared. And that's disconcerting. He's never scared.

'I don't know what you're looking for, or what you think you're going to find. But my Dad stays out of this okay? The only reason you're here right now is because I need him to think the person I'm marrying is a decent guy. But newsflash, after the wedding, I don't want you to see him ever again. Is that clear-'

He licks his lips. 'Peyton, I get that you're upset here but don't you think perhaps you're overreacting a little-'

He's still holding her arms, albeit loosely, so when her ambush starts once more, her little fists easily slip free to hit him in the chest.

He grunts and restrains her once more. 'Jesus christ'

'Are we clear?' She grinds out.

'Fine. Christ, I'm only here to appease you. For your peace of mind. I didn't have to come here' He can't keep himself in check now and his frustration comes out. 'I could've insisted that your father doesn't even attend the wedding so why don't you just stop with the dramatics' Her anger and frustration is apparently infectious. And it doesn't help that he can't fathom her fury- She's been incessantly poking around his property since she first stepped inside and he's not flown off the handle. Granted he's biding his time, trying to figure her out but still... I've been more than tolerant.

'What's going on in here?' She's so blinded by the sudden extreme animosity she's feeling toward Lucas that she can barely absorb the fact that her father is standing in the doorway, his brow furrowed curiously and his eyes narrowed with worry.

'Peyton found me looking through your things. She's a little incensed right now'

Her head petulantly jerks back in Lucas' direction, unable to digest his announcement because why is he candidly broadcasting the true nature of their dispute to her father. She's more than irate now.

'Oh honey' Larry's coo is soothing and suddenly he doesn't look the least bit worried by the raised voices that lured him up here. 'Don't be mad at him-'

'Larry you don't need-'

'No son' Larry cuts Lucas off. 'Trust me, when she gets upset about something she's unlikely to let it go. Best to pacify her with the truth hey'

Peyton doesn't appreciate being excluded from their secret, is further riled that Lucas has indulged her Father in his blatant games behind her very back, in her very house. How dare he?

'Lucas sought my permission whilst you were showering last night' Larry's announcement doesn't enlighten her in the least and her expression says just that. 'He asked me if I had anything of your Mothers that he could possibly take away and get engraved- he wants you to have a part of your Mum with you on your wedding day' He elaborates further. 'And well, I was nothing but touched by the gesture and thought it would be a lovely surprise for you' He takes Peyton's hand. 'I told him where to look and I'm only sorry I didn't do a very good job at distracting you'

She wants to pummel her fists into Lucas' face because she doesn't buy her father's oh so sweet explanation to her fiance' rummaging. Doesn't buy it one little bit. It's just a cheap bid to cover his tracks but she can't be fooled like her Dad. Knows it was just a ploy to scour through her Father and Mother's belongings. She only wishes she knew what it was he was searching for. Has he figured it out? Does he know who I am?

'So he's not quite the villan honey' Larry smiles. 'I'll leave you two to make up' He sends an encouraging look in Lucas' direction and then leaves them to it.

'Do I get an apology?' Lucas taunts.

'Like hell you do' She hisses.

'Where were you?' He inquires, his hands clenched at his sides now to refrain from shaking an answer from her.

'Don't change the subject. I know that's not what you were doing Lucas'

'Oh really. And how do you know that?' He tests.

'Because! I just do. You're a liar'

'And so are you' He fires back.

Her eyes widen. He knows.

'Where were you?' Lucas demands. Their impending departure is like a ticking time bomb; neither one of them wants to go, another contribution to their frayed moods.

'I went to see my Mother's grave!' She exclaims. 'Is that forbidden now too?' She shakes her head and makes for the door. 'Fuck this'

'Don't walk away from me. I'm talking to you'

'I'm done talking. We have to leave in an hour. I'm going to say goodbye to my Dad. If I'm allowed?'

They've barely spoken a word for the entirety of the journey home and Lucas is getting bored of her frowning face.

He knows her foul mood is down to an amalgamation of things; mainly the squabble they had this morning and of course having to leave her Father once more.

He knows his foul mood is a result of several things too; He's frustrated all round. He's pissed that he can't touch her without her shrugging him off. Pissed off that their game of pretend is seemingly over because she's done being hospitable. He's pissed that he didn't find a shred of information that would give him answers. He's pissed that he actually liked Larry Sawyer. Pissed that he very much trusts the father daughter relationship he witnessed over the last two days because he was anticipating a sham, was anticipating a charade and it felt like nothing of the sort and he's befuddled by that. He'd been on the cusp of speaking to her about her true identity because he was certain Jake had misinterpreted this whole thing. But then she had to go and make him doubt that by disappearing this morning. And mostly he's pissed because she changed just before they left, into a rather tight pair of jeans that he's sure were created for nothing but his own torment because they only accentuate the length of her limbs and he wants those legs wrapped around him. And he's not meant to be thinking about that but he is. Had been for the last two hours and thirty six minutes to be exact.

They're sat in a car that Lucas had waiting for them at the other end of their flight and Peyton's only thankful that she's only got to be in his presence for little more than the next twenty minutes. But Lucas has other ideas.

'Am I dropping the lady home sir?' The driver asks.

'Yes'

'No'

They answer simultaneously.

'I'm going home Lucas'

He doesn't answer. She's the one that implemented the no talking rule when they left her childhood home and he can play her game too if he so pleases.

'Lucas' She snaps. He doesn't respond and a little thrill sparks through him because he feels as though he's acquired his power back because this morning it felt as though he'd surrendered it to her 'Just take me to my flat please' She addresses the driver now, whom looks in his mirror to seek Lucas' silent permission. 'Don't listen to him' Peyton bleats, irked by the male testosterone amassed against her.

'I'm sorry Miss-'

'Don't apologise to her Adams' Lucas admonishes and the driver dutifully averts his full attention back to the road.

Peyton crosses her arms over her chest and is pretty sure she's shaking with anger.

Lucas is sure she is but is only roused by her irritation.

When they arrive at his gated property she refuses to get out of the car and instead sits resolutely with her teeth gritted together.

He doesn't force nor try to persuade her out of the vehicle, assuring her instead that she can take as much time as she pleases.

It only takes fifteen minutes (fifteen minutes of her trying to get out of the Fort Knox gate) before she storms into his study.

'Are you just going to hold me hostage here now?' She barks. 'What's your deal?'

'What's my deal' He ponders. 'My deal is, that you don't get to talk to me like crap and you don't get to just disappear without telling me where you're going'

She snorts in disbelief. 'Right. But you're allowed to talk to me however you please right? You're the one that's fucking holding me against my will. Don't you see how screwed up that is? You can't just order people to do what you want'

'That's where you're wrong' He knows he's being unreasonable but he can't find it in himself to care.

Her head shakes vigorously. 'Here I was thinking perhaps you weren't so bad' She mumbles to herself. 'But I was stupid enough to forget you were just pretending' She rakes her hand through her hair. 'I guess I should be thanking you for putting so much energy into not being yourself this weekend because it must've been oh so difficult for you considering you're now being twice the ass you were before!' Her voice peaks in an angry crescendo.

'Yes, you should be thanking me' He's on his feet now and he watches a mixture of emotions transcend in her green eyes. Sure she's angry and the last thing she is, is submissive but she's resigned none the less and something keeps her feet glued to the ground and he wants so very badly to know who this person is. Who she really is.

'Why were you going through my Mums things?' Her voice is unrelenting and he knows she's silently bargaining with him. And it bothers him that she knows he wants her. She's quickly becoming his weakness and he wonders how long it will be before she sees that too.

'I told you already. Your Dad told you already'

'And I don't buy it'

'And I don't buy you' He tells her genuinely.

Her stomach turns. Because she's been so consumed with her mission to expose him and his secrets that she'd not paid any thought to the possibility that he could question her agenda.

Her anger shrinks, worry instead flowering in the pit of her belly. He knows.

'What?' Her voice is small.

'I don't trust you and won't be able to until I can watch your every move'

'You said I don't have to move in here until after the wedding'

'You don't. But don't expect me to be unquestioning'

'What reason have I given you not to trust me?'

Many.

'Do you think I'm going to run off now I've got proof that all my Dad's financial and medical affairs have been taken care of? You might not have morals but I do. I agreed to this and I follow through with all my promises'

'Prove it' He dares her.

She stays still. Unmoving.

He gestures for her to come to him.

Determination drives her to relent. She walks the few paces to him.

'Just because I'm not kneeling at your feet doesn't mean I'm not committed to this' Her hand wavers between them, brushing his chest unintentionally given the small gap now between them. 'To you' Her lashes flutter as she looks up at him then and he's sure any man could get lost in those deceiving eyes. He's not any man. He won't be misled.

But that doesn't mean he won't take. Because he doesn't want to be back here. Has enjoyed being away from here. Has enjoyed pretending and this place turns him into the monster she so clearly thinks he is. He's uptight and on edge and sure she's probably playing a part in that but she can also eradicate such feelings for a little while.

He trails his hand around her and she obligingly steps closer, her eyes locked with his. Silently trying to convince him that she's loyal. He's not go to believe that anytime soon but that doesn't mean he won't enjoy the benefits of persuasion.

His palm finds her behind and her small smile as she leans into him is fake and only provokes him to wipe it from her pretty face by finding a better use for her mouth.

As soon as his tongue touches hers she finds her frustration and hate dwindling into something much more dangerous.

Because her lust for him inevitably ends with guilt because this isn't meant to be pleasurable and she's finding it hard to get her head around this attraction she's so blatantly acquired for this obnoxious man.

'These fucking jeans have been driving me crazy all day' He breathes.

He's more pushy than he's been with her thus far and the erratic nature of this unexpected make out session only excites her more.

She's lost.

Before she knows it she's laying on the sofa and he's hovering over her. Fingers palming at her jean covered thighs.

'Lucas' She's trying to tell herself that she wants this to stop but it's really hard when it feels so good.

He looks down at her and she blearily gazes back, silently wondering how he's so pretty. Stop thinking that.

'You want to stop' It's not a question, more of a pained statement.

'No' She blurts.

He smirks. 'No?'

She closes her eyes. 'No...I mean yes...probably...but not...not yet if you don't want to'

He smugly looks down at her and hoists her leg over his hip and presses his weight hard against her and she fleetingly thinks he can do all he likes because she can't tell him to stop, not when it feels this good.

'You know I don't want to. Can you feel how much I want you right now?'

Her eyes flicker. She doesn't answer. She hates him. She wants him. She loves that he wants her. It's fucked up in her head.

His finger traces over the gap where her shirt has risen and there's a strip of skin and her breathing quickens.

When he frees the top button on her jeans her eyes snap open.

'It's okay' He watches her face as he slowly pulls the zipper down. 'Just your jeans. Nothing else'

She licks her lips and looks back at him contemplatively and then she's lifting her hips obligingly.

He tugs them down but leaves them just above her knees, no further. She wants them off completely. They're restraining and he can no longer hold her leg around him.

He licks her lips and she presses her fingers into the cushions of the sofa to stop herself from yanking his face back down to hers.

She's not stupid. She can see that he feels cheated in someway. She doesn't know what she's done that has put that doubt in his mind but letting him have this gives him the control he needs and the fact that she's intuitive enough to see that, gives her a sense of power too.

His forefinger trails a path over the waistband of her black lacy briefs and a please is on the tip of her tongue. She swallows the word forcefully and sternly reminds herself that this is a job. A chore. Not to be enjoyed.

But then his two fingers walk down the triangle of black material and she doesn't give a shit whether she hates him. It doesn't mean she can't enjoy his ministrations. Right?

'There' She blurts, her hips jerking forward.

He smirks. 'Right there?' He presses his fingers hard against her and she gasps.

Her eyes are conflicted as she looks up at him.

He moves his fingers again and her vision falters.

'There?' He repeats.

'Mm...there'

His phone buzzing on the coffee table breaks through the spell she's under. Why? Don't stop. Don't stop.

'Fuck' He groans his irritation. He blindly reaches out, grabbing his cell from the table with his free hand and pressing it to his ear. 'What? This better fucking be good'

She blinks blearily up at him. His fingers haven't left her but they've stopped moving.

'Well I suggest you fucking sort it'

She cranes her neck and leans on her elbows. She's frustrated but somewhere in her foggy mind she takes note of the ticking clock on the mantel shelf. It's after eleven. She should probably get going and he's obviously got some work crisis on his hands. She pushes against his arm but he holds firm.

'Just sort it' He barks and then he's hung up and quite literally tosses the phone over his shoulder. 'Where do you think you're going?'

'It's late. I really should get going now. Let me up' She tries to pull her jeans up and shove his hand away.

'Not until I've seen you come first'

He pushes against her shoulder until she lays back.

She's sobered up somewhat from his intoxicating ministrations of just moments earlier and his words make her cheeks flush red.

'I should g-go' She stutters on her last word as his digits start to torture her once more. She slams her eyes closed tight and he smirks triumphantly.

'Go?'

'Maybe...in a ...a minute'

'Yes, after' He agrees.