Mozart screamed over the speakers as Serena bent over the furnace. Many people would say that classical music was not meant to be played like rock, at the highest decibel level of her new stereo system, but Serena preferred it when working. She carefully finished creating the gather on the end of her gathering iron before attaching the entire thing to the end of a blowpipe. She moved the mass of molten glass over into the glory hole, where she quickly and delicately began shaping the slender, hollow shape held in her mind's eye.
It didn't take long. By now Serena knew precisely how long each project should take before she even began it. This one was simpler then most, but exquisite nonetheless. She had added copper to one batch, and manganese to another, then swirled the two together. The result would be an upward-reaching tower of blues and violets.
Finished, she knocked the end of the blowpipe. There was a swift crack as the near-finished piece dropped off the pipe. She caught it, and swiftly applied the battledore to its base to smooth the bottom. That way it would sit soundly on its base, without rocking. She then moved it into the annealing oven where it would cool slowly. Many pieces became brittle, breaking even while cooling, if they returned to room temperature too quickly. Serena would never make such a mistake as that. This one would sit quietly, until it was ready. Then she would place her mark on the base using an acid stamp.
Satisfied with what she had just created, she stepped back and took a long gulp of ice water, enjoying the cold as it ran down her throat. It had been four days since her dinner with Darien. He had sent flowers the next day. She had phoned the gallery to say thank you. He had mentioned setting up appointments with the publicity staff, but it had slipped her mind.
Serena had spent the three days since channeling all of the pent-up sexual frustration he'd left her with into her art. Darien Chiba wanted a show; well he'd get one. Serena hadn't felt this full of creative energy in months.
Damn the man.
Within five minutes, he had succeeded in undoing three years of hard work. She had carefully stifled those feelings, determined to never let herself be caught up by a man again. He had ruined all of that. She thought of him all through the day, and all through the night, remembering the way his lips felt over her own, the way his warm hand had soothed her fears as it stroked the back of her neck.
Damn him.
She shook her head in a doomed attempt to rid her mind of him, and then began adding ingredients for the next batch.
***
"Darien?"
Darien dropped the latest batch of papers at the voice. His head lifted to meet those of the woman who peeked her head through the door.
"Luna! What brings you here?" Luna Silvestri, one of his oldest friends and one of the people responsible for his great love of art, smiled as she came in.
"I haven't heard from you in days, dear. You spend so much time pent up here in your office. Have you spoken with your parents recently?"
He returned the smile. "Two days ago, in fact. They send their love."
"Where are they now?"
"Trekking around in the Sahara. I swear, I can't believe I was born to them. I couldn't imagine leaving my comfortable digs behind for such unpleasant surroundings."
Luna laughed. She had been very good friends with the Chibas, and had practically raised Darien while his parents were flying around the globe on their many adventures. "To each their own, darling. So tell me, what have you discovered recently? I heard that you're planning an enormous show to introduce your latest artisan."
Darien grinned. "I believe you already know her." He reached behind him and lifted Serena's paperweight. "I'm sure you'll recognize the style."
Luna held out her hand, and he placed the piece in her palm. She studied it for a few moments. "Why, this is-" She glanced at the base. "Serena! Oh, Darien, how wonderful. She has so much talent."
"She practically worships you, you know."
Luna shook her head, causing the enormous mass of her ebony hair to wobble on top of her head. There were gray strands among it, but they only added to her mature elegance. "The dear girl was always so unsure of herself." She stopped and narrowed her eyes, watching Darien closely. "I know that look of yours, my boy. You're interested in her."
Darien saw no point in lying. "Yes. She's a beautiful and fascinating woman. Care to give me any tips?"
Luna chuckled. "I don't think that's fair, dear." Then she grew very serious. "But I will tell you one thing. Be careful with her."
Darien straightened. "What do you mean?"
"Serena Kyle has great strength and courage, but she's very fragile inside. She's gone through a lot, and I don't want to see her hurt again. Do you understand me?"
"I . . .I think so." Darien wondered what had happened that Luna would be cautioning him in such a way. Yet one more mystery surrounding Serena that he intended to uncover.
"Good. If you hurt her, I'll be very unhappy with you." Then, in one of the swift mood changes that always left Darien flabbergasted, Luna laughed. "So, tell me exactly what you are planning for her exhibit."
"Well, I-" Darien was interrupted by a knock on the door. ""Come in."
Jadeite opened the door and looked apologetically at his boss. "Darien, I'm sorry to bother you, but we're having trouble reaching Serena Kyle. Lita's going a bit nuts. Says the woman's not answering the phone or returning any calls."
"Damn it." Darien glanced at Luna. "Great strength, perhaps, but not greatly on top of things. I told her three days ago to call Lita Roberts about her publicity photos. Even gave her the goddamn number. I'm sorry, Luna, but I need to iron this out." He left the older woman smiling to herself as he strode from the office.
***
Serena woke to the sensation of someone licking her toes. She peered under the sheets, reached down, and pulled Loki up beside her. The soft feather bed had become one of his favorite spots, and he loved to curl up under the sheets. "Pretty nice digs, hmm, Loki?" Still not quite awake, she cuddled with the cat, laughing softly when he sprawled out on his back to give her access to his soft tummy. "Yup, pretty nice digs indeed."
"I wish I could be sure that you were earning them."
The deep male voice made her sit up in surprise, and she shrieked. "Darien?" She pulled the sheets up over her shoulders, praying that he hadn't noticed that she slept in the nude. "What the hell are you doing here?"
It was too late. The sight of her milky-white shoulders and the curve of a breast had him clenching his teeth. He took a breath to regain his poise and hoped that she, in return, hadn't noticed the affect that all that bare skin had on him. "You forgot to lock you door again. But that's all the better. I would have knocked it down; it seems that I always have to resort to extreme measures to gain your attention!"
"What are you talking about? And what are you doing here at-" she glanced at the clock on her bedside table. Darien had placed clocks, both digital and analog, all over the apartment. The man was obsessed with time. "Oh." It was one in the afternoon. "Guess I overslept a bit."
"I can't say that I'm surprised. Darien seated himself comfortable and watched with great amusement as Serena slid out of bed and edged toward the bathroom, taking the bed sheet with her. "As for why I'm here, I intend to personally drag you down to the gallery so that you will meet with my photographer. She's been calling you for days."
"Oh?" Serena emerged from the bathroom in her robe. "It's been a while since I checked my messages." She glanced at the one next to the bedside clock. Phones and answering machines. Yet another thing he was obsessed with. There were eleven messages waiting for her.
Darien sighed. "Trust me, I know. Go ahead and shower, but don't bother with your hair and makeup. Lita will take care of that. As for clothes-" he crossed to the closet and glanced through, finally pulling out an off-the-shoulder ensemble in a deep violet-blue. "Bring this."
Serena glared. "Of all the- just don't touch anything. I'll be out soon." She disappeared back into the bathroom, and he soon heard the shower running.
While she showered, Darien wandered into the kitchen, intending to make her some sort of brunch. All that was in the fridge was a loaf of bread and three cups of yogurt. No wonder the woman was so slender. Darien sighed again and reached for his cell phone.
Serena left the bathroom forty-five minutes later to the smell of French toast wafting in from the den. There was a veritable feast spread out on her coffee table, and Darien sat on the couch. Loki lounged in his lap, and he was feeding bits of smoked salmon to the satisfied-looking tom.
"What's all this?" She sat down on the floor by the table and speared a few pieces of French toast onto an empty plate. "And don't feed him too much of that. You'll spoil him, and he'll start expecting it from me on a daily basis." She smothered the toast in powdered sugar and whipped cream, then dug in. It was amazing.
"You didn't have anything worthwhile in your pantry, so I ordered in." Darien watched with entertained astonishment as she devoured the toast in a matter of seconds and chased it with several slices of honeydew melon. "Hungry?"
"Mm hmm." She gulped down the fruit filling her mouth and continued speaking. "This is really good. I've been working over the past few days. Not a lot of time to go food shopping. Not a lot of time to eat, for that matter." She eyed the table and mulled over what to go for next.
"And evidently not a lot of time to call me, either."
Serena swung her head around and just barely missed catching her hair in her food. "What's that supposed to mean? Why should I call you?"
He reached out a hand to caress the side of her neck, just as he had done the other night. The memory rose up unbidden, and she fought the urge to lean into his hand, instead shrugging away. Was that hurt she saw in his eyes? "Tell me what you mean."
"The kiss we shared that night meant something. I know you felt it."
"What I felt doesn't matter." He raised an eyebrow. "Fine! Maybe there was something there. But I don't need it."
Darien stroked a hand down her cheek. "Okay, then what do you want?"
"You know-"
"What do you want from me?"
"Wanting you sexually isn't life and death, Darien. It would be more like scratching a vague itch."
"Vague?" Amusement brightened his face as his hand reached to cup the back of her neck.
"Vague," she repeated, and let his mouth come to hers, let it rub teasingly. And enticingly. "Slight."
"I was thinking more . . ." He danced the fingers of his free hand up and down her spine. "Constant. Chronic." Nibbling on her, he eased her closer.
She kept her gaze on him, arms down at her sides. "Desire's not necessary. It's only a hunger."
"You're right. Let's eat."
He ravished her mouth, shifting so swiftly from gentle warmth to raging heat that she had no choice but to plunge with him.
Her hands gripped his hips, squeezed, and then ran roughly up his back to hook like talons over his shoulders. If he pushed her to the brink, she thought, she couldn't tell whether she's be able to cling to the edge or tumble with him into the abyss.
She let her head fall back, not a gesture of surrender, but one of demand. Take more, if you dare. When he dared, she moaned in pleasure.
Her scent seemed to pour over him, into him, until his belly ached and his head spun. In one desperate move he dragged her closer and prepared to fall with her onto the couch.
His cell phone rang.
The noise jolted Serena back to her senses. "Stop," she gasped. She managed to wedge a hand between the bodies and nudge him away. "Oh, god, Darien. Please stop. I can't do this."
The heart-felt plea stopped him, as nothing else would have. He sucked in a deep breath through his teeth. "Why? Tell me why. You want this as much as I do."
"I just can't!" She wailed. Tears sparkled in the corners of her eyes. When he moved to sooth her, she jerked back. "Darien, this can't go anywhere. You and me."
"Serena." He cupped the back of her neck until her head settled on his shoulder. "It's already gone somewhere. Why don't we stay there awhile, see how we like it. Now come on. I promised Lita that I'd have you there by three."
***