Limelight
Chapter Seven
By: Karisma
Rated: PG-13
Genre: Alt, Romance
www.geocities.com/karismafanfic
Karisma456@hotmail.com
Standard Disclaimers Apply
February 2001
AN: i have absolutly no life. i went to see the wedding planner WITH MY
FATHER friday night and then wrote and wrote and wrote. and as a product of
my poor excuse for a social life, you get this chapter out earlier than
expected. enjoy dear readers!
PS new fics that i'm working on will be out soon b/c as you can no doubt
tell, AOYU and limelight are closing up.
The following evening found Serena rushing about her hotel room,
slipping on a shoe while trying to find the hole for her earring. In between
her frantic dance to get ready, she found herself sneaking peaks at the
clock beside her no matter how many times she told herself Darien was not
coming and even if he was, she was simply not going anywhere with him.
Seven o'clock rolled around and still there was no sign of her not-quite-
Prince Charming. Satisfied, she yanked open her door to find Darien's
surprised face looking down at her, hand held up in midair as if to knock on
something. She barely allowed herself one second to look over his appearance
in his tuxedo and snowy white shirt. His hair and smile were perfectly in
place, the jacket of the tuxedo stretching across his broad shoulders down
to his tapered waist.
A smile replaced his shocked expression as he held out his arm.
"Milady?"
She shot him a withering look before bypassing him and entering the
hallway alone. She locked her door quietly and made her way to the elevator,
ignoring man beside her completely. He matched her pace effortlessly and
stepped into the elevator with her, smiling that incessant grin of his.
"Have I told you how wonderful you look tonight?" He asked charmingly,
turning to face her fuming face.
"Drop dead," she said icily, jabbing a button with such force he
briefly thanked someone above it was not his eye.
"I'll take that as a 'no'. Well, you do."
She would not let herself be pleased by that compliment, she would not!
Instead, she glowered at him, "You're still here."
"And I will continue to be for the remainder of the night—maybe even
the morning?" He teased, his handsome face smirking roguishly.
"You're disgusting," she shot back, hating the blush that was creeping
up her cheeks.
"Been called worse."
"Can't you take a hint?" She cried in exasperation, clenching her
beaded purse as if contemplating whether or not to sock him with it.
"No."
As they stepped out of the elevators and exited the hotel, Serena
watched the bright lights and swarms of people with avid interest. Darien
took her elbow and steered her toward a waiting limousine. She wrenched her
arm out of his grasp and castigated him through clenched teeth.
"If hints don't work, I'll straight out tell you. I'm not going
anywhere with you, Darien. Not now, not ever. So if you'd kindly let go of
me, we can both go our separate ways."
"They way I see it, Mina, you have two choices. Either come with me
calmly like a good little girl, or cause a large scene in front of a
thousand curious eyes." The humor was gone from his voice and only a
firmness that was not used to being argued with replaced it. He was right,
she knew with dismay, a large crowd was in front of the hotel and already a
few were whispering comments about who knew what. If she wasn't careful,
some sordid story would appear splashed on tomorrow's headlines.
Begrudgingly, she slipped into the extravagant vehicle with Darien behind
her. She scooted to the farthest end possible as he sat down and pushed her
chin up at the eyebrow he cocked up at her in amusement.
"Watch your hands, Eddington," she warned scathingly.
"Yes, ma'am." He quipped, his wittiness obviously back now that they
were alone.
"And as soon as we arrive, I don't want anyone to get the slightest
impression that we are anything but friends anymore, alright?"
"Yes, ma'am." He repeated, bowing his head in jest as if talking to his
mother.
"And stop that!" Serena snapped, smoothing over the material of her
black dress.
"Yes, ma'am."
She let out an aggravated groan before giving up any hope of them
having a serious discussion like two mature adults. They arrived at the
premiere not a moment too soon and Serena all but shot out of the car,
hardly waiting for the gloved man to open her door for her. As soon as she
let one heeled leg out of the vehicle, cameras went off in a bright haze,
and she had to blink rapidly to adjust her eyes. Darien followed her exit
and took one look at her dazed face, all the while smiling.
"You look like you've never done this before," he commented, a bright
smile pasted on as he took her bare arm. "Now smile prettily and follow me."
She did as she was told automatically, subconsciously tightening her
hold on Darien's arm as a source of comfort in this bizarre world she knew
nothing of. She left his side only once and that was to hug and kiss Elaine
and Nigel, both looking deliriously happy with all the popularity the public
had shown of the long awaited film. She made her way back to his side and
heard Darien's answer to a question a reported had asked him. She could only
guess it concerned their alleged relationship from Darien's reply.
"…currently working out through some kinks like all relationships, but
I gather it is safe to say we're definitely a couple." He winked charmingly
at the female reporter. "A couple of what, I'm not sure. But definitely a
couple."
While the woman laughed prettily at his witty reply before moving on,
Serena's temper boiled over. She clenched her small hand around his larger
arm, knowing all her strength wouldn't move him, much less harm him in any
way. He looked surprised to see her there, but pleased nonetheless.
"Mina, I was just—"
"Save it, you scumbag," she seethed, smiling for the hundreds of
onlookers. "Didn't I explicitly say less than thirty minutes ago exactly
what I wanted, and didn't want, said? And did you not just disregard my
wishes?"
"Mina—"
"Don't 'Mina' me, you lying, sleazy—" she had lost whatever modicum of
a smile she had to begin with and tension was pulsing through her entire
body.
"We'll talk about this later," he interrupted, taking her hand and
leading her through a maze of people and into a large building where the
movie would be shown.
"No," Serena tightened her grip on his hand and pulled him through the
building into a small, dusty room used for storage. "We'll talk about this
now." While I still have my anger, she completed silently.
"As much as I like the idea of us alone in a secluded room, I really
think we'd better get back before Nigel wonders where his leading actors
disappeared to."
"You cheap, low-down—"
He sighed heavily, as if his patience was running out. "Mina, we really
don't have time to have a session in anger management, all right?"
"Not only are you a selfish pig, you're a lying weasel!" She walked
over to him and punctuated her words by jabbing him in the chest with a
newly manicured finger.
His voice became cross, "Look, if you would like to inform me the
reason you are behaving like a six year old instead of hurling insults at
me, it would save both of us and abundance of time."
Serena gave out a short bark of laughter. "This is unbelievable. You
are unbelievable. Not only do you blatantly go against my wishes, you lie to
a reporter about me, and then you play dumb! Unbelievable!"
"I did not lie; there is something between us."
"Yes, and it's called 'nothing'!" She threw her hands in the air and
walked to the other side of the empty room. "Would you get over yourself for
just a second to see that not every woman can't help herself from swooning
at your very presence?"
He gave a pretense of being miffed. "Well, maybe not every woman, but
surely a vast majority—"
"And that's the other thing!" She interrupted. "You can never be
serious—everything is a joke. Well, I'm serious, Mr. Eddington."
His face turned one hundred and eighty degrees in two seconds flat.
Gone was the teasing smile and dancing eyes that had made her unwittingly
laugh although she wanted to do anything but. Replacing the disarming joker
was a man whose face was icy and somber, his eyes were solid, all signs of
warmth and humor gone. His mouth was drawn into a tight line as he stared at
her from across the room. In a few short, quick strides he had covered the
safe distance between them and was now an inch away from her, bending his
head so she was forced to look at his hard angled face.
"And I suppose you think it's easy for me wanting so much of you all
the time, all the while knowing you can't stand me. And I guess you think
it's perfectly easy for me to deal with how I feel when I'm holding you,
kissing you? Well, it isn't, all right? In fact, it's torture. There, you
happy?" He was breathing harshly, his chest moving rapidly.
Serena took a step back, unprepared for the emotion he had shown. He
couldn't feel that way about her. The same why she felt about him. Because
she was leaving soon and she would never see him again. She should let him
think she hated him and be done with it. But somehow she couldn't, because
she saw him as a human—just as afraid of rejection and just as vulnerable as
the next man—maybe even more so.
"I never said I couldn't stand you," she finally said, unconsciously
distancing herself away from him even more, allowing herself precious time
to think and sort through her muddled state.
"You don't have to," he said wryly, gesturing to the steps she had
taken away from him and mistaking them for repulsion.
She automatically began to correct him, "That's not you, it's…me." She
finished lamely.
"That's original."
"Look, you're not the only one this is all new too, okay?" She raised
her voice indignantly, rubbing the growing goosebumps on her bare arms. "So
save the snide comments."
Without hesitation, Darien lost his big, black jacket and placed it on
her slender shoulders, then moved away stiffly, as if touching her was
something he was forbidden to do. For some reason, his reaction caused her
stomach to turn and she found herself wanting to convince him she wasn't
repelled by him—quite the opposite.
Instead, she was silent. "We're going to miss the entire premiere,"
she said softly, moving past him toward the door.
In one deft move, he extended his hand to stop her, catching the
cloth-clad elbow. She turned to face him curiously. "What—" his voice
cracked and Serena stared up at him in surprise. He cleared his throat and
began again. "What is it about me?" His meaning was clear and the hurt was
apparent in his normally impassive, blue eyes that Serena's heart went out.
"Nothing. There's absolutely nothing wrong with you," she implored,
shaking her head slowly. "Any woman would be lucky to have you." Serena
smiled wistfully, feeling moisture prick the back of her eyes.
He shifted his position to grab both her shoulders and shake them
slightly. "Then what is it?" He asked, frustration apparent in his voice.
"Me," she laughed humorlessly. "There must be something wrong with me."
He pulled her to him tightly. "Don't say that," he said fiercely.
"There is absolutely nothing wrong with you, you hear me?" He grew soft.
"You're perfect."
They stayed like that a while and Serena was content to let herself
believe for one, brief moment that everything was all right. That they loved
each other and this was their love story—complete with a happy ending. She
was more than happy to believe that Darien knew he was holding her and not
her sister. But then his deep voice cut into her illusion and reality sunk
in with his next words.
"I think—I think I'm in love with you,"—Serena's heart rose to her
throat at those beautifully humble words coming from such a proud, strong
man—"Mina." Her sister's name. The same heart that had floated upward,
plummeted down as her betrayal of her pretense washed over her in large
waves.
She pushed away from him, a tight feeling in her throat and a surge of
heat in her eyes that let her know tears would soon follow. "I'm sorry," she
said achingly. "I'm so sorry." And with that, she fled the dark room,
leaving a bewildered Darien in her wake.
****
Serena hailed a cab and waited until she was safely in the backseat to
let the gates open. One tear trickled down and then another and another,
until she was crying harder than she had ever done before—harder than when
she had seen her mother die on a hospital bed—harder then when she had seen
her father lose to the fight against his cancer. Pretty soon she was
sobbing. Loud, hysterical sobs that alarmed the cab driver in front of her.
"Hey, lady, ya alright?" The cabbie asked, curiosity obvious in his
voice. Serena doubted he truly cared for her welfare; it was flagrant from
his eager tone he was merely looking for an intriguing story to pass the
time at this late hour.
"Fine," she answered softly, and gathered her purse as she saw the
bright lights of the hotel coming closer. She wiped her face quickly; no
need for the entire world to see "Mina Kinsley" crying her heart out on the
supposedly magical night of the premiere. "Thanks." She muttered idly,
tossing him a few crumpled bills and turning before he pulled away into the
dark night with a loud screech, off to find another stranded, sobbing woman
who needed a ride.
She trudged up the stairs dejectedly, wondering if escaping tonight
was an option for her. The thought was more than tempting, but she knew she
would never have the courage to do that to her sister. The entire plan may
be her only choice of refuge, but it would leave Mina in a convoluted mess
filled with people asking pesky questions and Nigel castigating her
ferociously.
Once inside her hotel room, she ordered enough room service to feed
three people and plopped down on the couch, suddenly too tired to even
change out of her formal wear. Instead, she managed to kick off her shoes
with leaden limbs and stare into space for an unaccounted amount of time.
She couldn't bring herself to cry, it required too much energy—energy that
had been zapped out of her the moment she arrived to the safe asylum of her
room. So she lay down in the sitting room, gazing up at the ceiling,
wondering why this was happening to her. It wasn't fair, it just wasn't
fair.
She loved him, she had known that for quite some time, but after
seeing that new side of him, there wasn't a doubt in her mind. She loved
him—and he loved Mina. She repeated his husky words over and over in her
mind, punishing herself further by remembering the way he had said her
sister's name. He had never once said 'Serena'. And he never would. Because
to him she did not exist and that final thought was her undoing. With a
whimper, she let her hands fly to cover her face to stop the inevitable
tears.
But a doorbell impeded them and Serena vaguely remembered ordering
food. She got up listlessly, ordering her indolent limbs to move her to the
door. After what seemed like twenty rings, she finally managed to open the
door and nearly swung it back shut when she saw who was on the other end.
He quickly wedged one polished shoe in between the door and the frame,
making all attempts at blocking his entrance futile. He slipped in the room
and shut the door behind him, allowing Serena time to move quickly back into
the sitting room…and as far away from him as she could. Her temporary torpor
was extinguished in light of her sudden quandary.
But as he entered the room after her, he didn't look the least bit
furious at her hasty departure. His handsome face was soft and benign, his
eyes emollient. "Why did you run?" He asked finally.
"I—I," Serena stuttered, unsure of herself and what to say that could
possibly mollify him. "I don't know."
"You know, Mina. You really do confuse me." He laughed shortly, running
a hand through his dark hair. His bow tie was hanging loose and his first
shirt button was undone. "You're an enigma, do you know that? You say one
thing, then do the exact opposite. One minute you're hot, the next cold."
She squeezed her eyes shut, not wanting to hear his valid words. "I
know…I—I'm sorry."
"And stop saying that!" He barked in such a harsh voice that was the
complete antithesis of his earlier tone, she jumped involuntarily. He must
have seen her fearful reaction and alleviated the callousness in his voice.
"Just tell me whatever I've done to offend you. I'd like to know so I can
free myself from any grievances you seem to hold against me."
"You haven't done anything." She wanted to urge him to realize it was
her, there was nothing to exculpate him from, but he wouldn't understand
that and Serena knew it didn't sound very plausible.
"Don't give me that," he said sharply. "You're polar opposites with me
and I want to know why."
"I don't know why," she answered with a burst of emotion she didn't
know she had. "Happy? I don't know. You make me so incredibly confused, I
just—I just don't know anything anymore." She sank down on the nearby sofa
after her nearly lucid tirade, her energy spent.
She heard him sign heavily and felt the weight shift on the couch as he
joined her there, wrapping his arms around her and drawing her to him. She
stayed in the warm comfort, allowing herself to relax, if only for a short
time. He propped his chin on her blonde head and deftly undid the intricate
twist it had taken a good thirty minutes to craft. He stroked her thick hair
for some time, soothing her with the languid caress.
"Mina," he began tenderly, but she stiffened before he had even gotten
the word out. Pushing herself out of his grasp, she tucked the waves of hair
framing her slender face behind her ears and stood up. "What?" He asked,
exasperated and all signs of patience gone.
She wanted to tell him right then and there. She wanted him to hold her
afterward and tell her it didn't matter because he loved her—not Mina. She
could tell him now, quietly and concisely. Then explain her true feelings
and let him hold her and let him tell her how much he loved her for her—not
a name. But she couldn't.
"You should go," she finally whispered, turning her back to him and
biting her lip to desist its trembling.
"No." It was incontrovertible.
She remained away from him, not wanting to see his frustrated face. "I
want you to go." She persisted, trying unsuccessfully to make her voice
unattached and stolid.
"No you don't." It wasn't the supercilious tone he had shared with her
earlier while teasing her, it was matter-of-fact and much to her
disconcertion, true.
But the level—headed part of her knew he shouldn't be here—this close to
her. Because if he stayed, she would break down and tell him everything. How
much she loved him, how she hated herself for her betrayal against him, how
life was like before him. Everything.
In her deep train of thought, she hadn't heard nor felt him come
closer to her and was properly surprised when she flicked up her eyes to see
him standing before her, gazing down at her red eyes concernedly.
She pinched her eyes shut and dugs her fingernails into her palms
convulsively. "Please, Darien." She whispered hoarsely. "Just go."
He ignored her pleas as if he hadn't heard them—or chose not to.
"What's wrong?" He demanded.
"Nothing," she insisted, turning away from him.
He clamped his hands on her shoulders to keep her in place. "That's a
crapload and we both know it."
"Let go of me," she said, struggling for calmness she knew she didn't
possess.
"I love you—" he began and then stopped at the sight of her hung head
and slim shoulders shaking. "What the—"
"Please, don't. Please don't say that," she cried, collapsing against
him and sobbing into his bleached shirt.
"Why?" He asked dumbly, mutely noting her tears were most definitely
not of joy.
"Because you can't—you just can't!" She shoved herself away from him
and took a step back, hand curled about her throat.
"Can't what? Love you?" He asked incredulously, when she turned her
head away he knew his answer. "Well, that's just too bad, Mina. Because I
do—and I don't care how many times I have to say it until you here me!"
She grew frantic, hysterically crying, "What do I have to do to make
you leave? Tell you I don't care about you? Well, fine, Darien. I don't! I
don't care one iota about you! You mean absolutely nothing to me!" She was a
quivering mass of tears and emotion, shaking so hard he thought the room
might start to quake as well.
Maybe two hours ago, those words would have cut deep, probably because
he might have been inclined to believe them. But one didn't show this much
passion and emotion to someone he was indifferent to. He covered the
distance between them and simply held her, paying no heed to her struggles.
"Just go," she whispered achingly, before resting the hands that had
thumped on his still chest. "Please." She made no move to turn away from his
embrace and Darien took that as a sign.
"I can't." His voice was so painstakingly coarse and tremulous that
Serena had to lift her head and look into his mercurial eyes. "Do you love
me?" The words were quiet, but Serena heard the shakiness that belied her
previous opinion of him being a cold, untouchable man with an impenetrable
shield. He was vulnerable, she realized as she stared up at him, and just
like every other human, afraid of rejection. And her love for him grew to
such an alarming rate, she found it hard to speak. They simply stared at
each other for a full thirty seconds, Serena dimly aware that she should say
something.
She opened her mouth, prepared to deny it, but at the last moment she
made the mistake of looking into his eyes and watching the hesitant specks
of silver that were open and sensitive. And she couldn't lie, not even to
preserve both their lives in the long run. She simply looked at him,
conscious that her feelings were evident her eyes and expressive face. And
he saw her unspoken words and tightened his grip on her jubilantly, kissing
her temple, her nose, her cheeks, her forehead…
"God," he muttered hoarsely. "How I love you."
She pulled away from his hold just far enough to look at his chiseled
face, shoving the nagging doubts about the future away. She gave him a
watery smile and stood on her toes to kiss him with a passion that surprised
them both. And when he began to kiss her back, she successfully blocked all
the whispers of her lies and deceit out of her mind. She would deal with
them all tomorrow. But for now, she loved him, and he was hers.
****
Serena woke up the next day feeling the most rested she had in years.
Her cheek brushed against the material of a man's shirt, and she looked up
to see Darien's sleeping face. She smiled as she quietly detangled herself
from him, straightening her formal dress she had yet to take off. She gazed
at his peaceful face with a soft smile, staring with awe at how in sleep he
looked untroubled, placid, and even boyish. The hard lines that were
apparent when he had talked about his unfortunate youth disappeared while he
was resting.
Pushing away from his sleeping figure on the couch, she hummed lightly
while remembering the previous evening. They had danced and talked and eaten
and then simply held each other, finally falling asleep together.
Her face grew somber as she contemplated what was ahead. She was no
fool, she knew that today she would have to tell him and that he would be
angry. But she also knew that she loved him—and that made the risk of his
formidable temper worth it. Mustering up her courage so she would be ready
when he awoke, she set out to remedy the task of breakfast, calling room
service yet again.
Showering and dressing quickly in a pair of pressed slacks and a fitted
black sweater, she opened the door to the sitting room and found him
stirring awake.
"Good morning," she said cheerfully, smiling unconsciously at his
rumpled hair and disheveled appearance. Biting down nervousness, she
prevaricated the inevitable situation further at the sight of his large
figure coming toward her. "Ah, ah, ah," she warned as he made a move to hug
her. "Shave first." She admonished with a teasing glance, gesturing to his
stubble.
Smiling a lopsided grin, he rolled his eyes and quickly rubbed his
course cheek against her soft one. Squealing in surprise, Serena pushed him
into the bedroom she had just occupied. "I don't have any clothes that would
fit you, but there are extra toiletries in the first drawer of the night
table."
He was almost through the door before turning around to look at her.
"Food, woman." He growled in a tone that was given away by the sparkling
tenderness in his cobalt eyes.
She laughed while he closed the door and then suddenly ceased. The
night dresser…
It was where she kept all of Mina's letters and postcards, opened and
displayed for anyone to see…and find the truth. Not losing a minute, she ran
from the kitchenette to the bedroom and flung open the door to see Darien,
poring over the private letters she knew he had a right to read. He looked
up at her over the sheaf of brightly colored postcards and loose-leaf
papers, shock and disbelief written over his bright eyes.
"Serena?" He said gruffly, a moment of pain was evident to her before
that cold mask she had grown accustomed to and hated settled over his
handsome face. She shivered at the sound of her name on his lips for the
first time and desperately wished it was filled with tender longing instead
of spiteful hate at her ruse.
They stared at each other in silence, each struck dumb by such acute
pain, time seemed lost to them. Darien swallowed harshly, wanting
desperately to throw something; strike someone. He wanted to turn his back
on her and walk away, but he wanted—needed answers to questions about her
fabricated lies and brilliant coup.
As he stared at her beautiful, wan face filled with unshed tears, wrath
and agony poured through his veins like acid. He wanted to pull her into his
arms and beseech her to tell him it wasn't true; he wanted to pour his soul
into her until there wasn't any room for deceit or lies. He wanted to
strangle her for her treachery; to murder her with is own hands.
He wanted to die.
Chapter Seven
By: Karisma
Rated: PG-13
Genre: Alt, Romance
www.geocities.com/karismafanfic
Karisma456@hotmail.com
Standard Disclaimers Apply
February 2001
AN: i have absolutly no life. i went to see the wedding planner WITH MY
FATHER friday night and then wrote and wrote and wrote. and as a product of
my poor excuse for a social life, you get this chapter out earlier than
expected. enjoy dear readers!
PS new fics that i'm working on will be out soon b/c as you can no doubt
tell, AOYU and limelight are closing up.
The following evening found Serena rushing about her hotel room,
slipping on a shoe while trying to find the hole for her earring. In between
her frantic dance to get ready, she found herself sneaking peaks at the
clock beside her no matter how many times she told herself Darien was not
coming and even if he was, she was simply not going anywhere with him.
Seven o'clock rolled around and still there was no sign of her not-quite-
Prince Charming. Satisfied, she yanked open her door to find Darien's
surprised face looking down at her, hand held up in midair as if to knock on
something. She barely allowed herself one second to look over his appearance
in his tuxedo and snowy white shirt. His hair and smile were perfectly in
place, the jacket of the tuxedo stretching across his broad shoulders down
to his tapered waist.
A smile replaced his shocked expression as he held out his arm.
"Milady?"
She shot him a withering look before bypassing him and entering the
hallway alone. She locked her door quietly and made her way to the elevator,
ignoring man beside her completely. He matched her pace effortlessly and
stepped into the elevator with her, smiling that incessant grin of his.
"Have I told you how wonderful you look tonight?" He asked charmingly,
turning to face her fuming face.
"Drop dead," she said icily, jabbing a button with such force he
briefly thanked someone above it was not his eye.
"I'll take that as a 'no'. Well, you do."
She would not let herself be pleased by that compliment, she would not!
Instead, she glowered at him, "You're still here."
"And I will continue to be for the remainder of the night—maybe even
the morning?" He teased, his handsome face smirking roguishly.
"You're disgusting," she shot back, hating the blush that was creeping
up her cheeks.
"Been called worse."
"Can't you take a hint?" She cried in exasperation, clenching her
beaded purse as if contemplating whether or not to sock him with it.
"No."
As they stepped out of the elevators and exited the hotel, Serena
watched the bright lights and swarms of people with avid interest. Darien
took her elbow and steered her toward a waiting limousine. She wrenched her
arm out of his grasp and castigated him through clenched teeth.
"If hints don't work, I'll straight out tell you. I'm not going
anywhere with you, Darien. Not now, not ever. So if you'd kindly let go of
me, we can both go our separate ways."
"They way I see it, Mina, you have two choices. Either come with me
calmly like a good little girl, or cause a large scene in front of a
thousand curious eyes." The humor was gone from his voice and only a
firmness that was not used to being argued with replaced it. He was right,
she knew with dismay, a large crowd was in front of the hotel and already a
few were whispering comments about who knew what. If she wasn't careful,
some sordid story would appear splashed on tomorrow's headlines.
Begrudgingly, she slipped into the extravagant vehicle with Darien behind
her. She scooted to the farthest end possible as he sat down and pushed her
chin up at the eyebrow he cocked up at her in amusement.
"Watch your hands, Eddington," she warned scathingly.
"Yes, ma'am." He quipped, his wittiness obviously back now that they
were alone.
"And as soon as we arrive, I don't want anyone to get the slightest
impression that we are anything but friends anymore, alright?"
"Yes, ma'am." He repeated, bowing his head in jest as if talking to his
mother.
"And stop that!" Serena snapped, smoothing over the material of her
black dress.
"Yes, ma'am."
She let out an aggravated groan before giving up any hope of them
having a serious discussion like two mature adults. They arrived at the
premiere not a moment too soon and Serena all but shot out of the car,
hardly waiting for the gloved man to open her door for her. As soon as she
let one heeled leg out of the vehicle, cameras went off in a bright haze,
and she had to blink rapidly to adjust her eyes. Darien followed her exit
and took one look at her dazed face, all the while smiling.
"You look like you've never done this before," he commented, a bright
smile pasted on as he took her bare arm. "Now smile prettily and follow me."
She did as she was told automatically, subconsciously tightening her
hold on Darien's arm as a source of comfort in this bizarre world she knew
nothing of. She left his side only once and that was to hug and kiss Elaine
and Nigel, both looking deliriously happy with all the popularity the public
had shown of the long awaited film. She made her way back to his side and
heard Darien's answer to a question a reported had asked him. She could only
guess it concerned their alleged relationship from Darien's reply.
"…currently working out through some kinks like all relationships, but
I gather it is safe to say we're definitely a couple." He winked charmingly
at the female reporter. "A couple of what, I'm not sure. But definitely a
couple."
While the woman laughed prettily at his witty reply before moving on,
Serena's temper boiled over. She clenched her small hand around his larger
arm, knowing all her strength wouldn't move him, much less harm him in any
way. He looked surprised to see her there, but pleased nonetheless.
"Mina, I was just—"
"Save it, you scumbag," she seethed, smiling for the hundreds of
onlookers. "Didn't I explicitly say less than thirty minutes ago exactly
what I wanted, and didn't want, said? And did you not just disregard my
wishes?"
"Mina—"
"Don't 'Mina' me, you lying, sleazy—" she had lost whatever modicum of
a smile she had to begin with and tension was pulsing through her entire
body.
"We'll talk about this later," he interrupted, taking her hand and
leading her through a maze of people and into a large building where the
movie would be shown.
"No," Serena tightened her grip on his hand and pulled him through the
building into a small, dusty room used for storage. "We'll talk about this
now." While I still have my anger, she completed silently.
"As much as I like the idea of us alone in a secluded room, I really
think we'd better get back before Nigel wonders where his leading actors
disappeared to."
"You cheap, low-down—"
He sighed heavily, as if his patience was running out. "Mina, we really
don't have time to have a session in anger management, all right?"
"Not only are you a selfish pig, you're a lying weasel!" She walked
over to him and punctuated her words by jabbing him in the chest with a
newly manicured finger.
His voice became cross, "Look, if you would like to inform me the
reason you are behaving like a six year old instead of hurling insults at
me, it would save both of us and abundance of time."
Serena gave out a short bark of laughter. "This is unbelievable. You
are unbelievable. Not only do you blatantly go against my wishes, you lie to
a reporter about me, and then you play dumb! Unbelievable!"
"I did not lie; there is something between us."
"Yes, and it's called 'nothing'!" She threw her hands in the air and
walked to the other side of the empty room. "Would you get over yourself for
just a second to see that not every woman can't help herself from swooning
at your very presence?"
He gave a pretense of being miffed. "Well, maybe not every woman, but
surely a vast majority—"
"And that's the other thing!" She interrupted. "You can never be
serious—everything is a joke. Well, I'm serious, Mr. Eddington."
His face turned one hundred and eighty degrees in two seconds flat.
Gone was the teasing smile and dancing eyes that had made her unwittingly
laugh although she wanted to do anything but. Replacing the disarming joker
was a man whose face was icy and somber, his eyes were solid, all signs of
warmth and humor gone. His mouth was drawn into a tight line as he stared at
her from across the room. In a few short, quick strides he had covered the
safe distance between them and was now an inch away from her, bending his
head so she was forced to look at his hard angled face.
"And I suppose you think it's easy for me wanting so much of you all
the time, all the while knowing you can't stand me. And I guess you think
it's perfectly easy for me to deal with how I feel when I'm holding you,
kissing you? Well, it isn't, all right? In fact, it's torture. There, you
happy?" He was breathing harshly, his chest moving rapidly.
Serena took a step back, unprepared for the emotion he had shown. He
couldn't feel that way about her. The same why she felt about him. Because
she was leaving soon and she would never see him again. She should let him
think she hated him and be done with it. But somehow she couldn't, because
she saw him as a human—just as afraid of rejection and just as vulnerable as
the next man—maybe even more so.
"I never said I couldn't stand you," she finally said, unconsciously
distancing herself away from him even more, allowing herself precious time
to think and sort through her muddled state.
"You don't have to," he said wryly, gesturing to the steps she had
taken away from him and mistaking them for repulsion.
She automatically began to correct him, "That's not you, it's…me." She
finished lamely.
"That's original."
"Look, you're not the only one this is all new too, okay?" She raised
her voice indignantly, rubbing the growing goosebumps on her bare arms. "So
save the snide comments."
Without hesitation, Darien lost his big, black jacket and placed it on
her slender shoulders, then moved away stiffly, as if touching her was
something he was forbidden to do. For some reason, his reaction caused her
stomach to turn and she found herself wanting to convince him she wasn't
repelled by him—quite the opposite.
Instead, she was silent. "We're going to miss the entire premiere,"
she said softly, moving past him toward the door.
In one deft move, he extended his hand to stop her, catching the
cloth-clad elbow. She turned to face him curiously. "What—" his voice
cracked and Serena stared up at him in surprise. He cleared his throat and
began again. "What is it about me?" His meaning was clear and the hurt was
apparent in his normally impassive, blue eyes that Serena's heart went out.
"Nothing. There's absolutely nothing wrong with you," she implored,
shaking her head slowly. "Any woman would be lucky to have you." Serena
smiled wistfully, feeling moisture prick the back of her eyes.
He shifted his position to grab both her shoulders and shake them
slightly. "Then what is it?" He asked, frustration apparent in his voice.
"Me," she laughed humorlessly. "There must be something wrong with me."
He pulled her to him tightly. "Don't say that," he said fiercely.
"There is absolutely nothing wrong with you, you hear me?" He grew soft.
"You're perfect."
They stayed like that a while and Serena was content to let herself
believe for one, brief moment that everything was all right. That they loved
each other and this was their love story—complete with a happy ending. She
was more than happy to believe that Darien knew he was holding her and not
her sister. But then his deep voice cut into her illusion and reality sunk
in with his next words.
"I think—I think I'm in love with you,"—Serena's heart rose to her
throat at those beautifully humble words coming from such a proud, strong
man—"Mina." Her sister's name. The same heart that had floated upward,
plummeted down as her betrayal of her pretense washed over her in large
waves.
She pushed away from him, a tight feeling in her throat and a surge of
heat in her eyes that let her know tears would soon follow. "I'm sorry," she
said achingly. "I'm so sorry." And with that, she fled the dark room,
leaving a bewildered Darien in her wake.
****
Serena hailed a cab and waited until she was safely in the backseat to
let the gates open. One tear trickled down and then another and another,
until she was crying harder than she had ever done before—harder than when
she had seen her mother die on a hospital bed—harder then when she had seen
her father lose to the fight against his cancer. Pretty soon she was
sobbing. Loud, hysterical sobs that alarmed the cab driver in front of her.
"Hey, lady, ya alright?" The cabbie asked, curiosity obvious in his
voice. Serena doubted he truly cared for her welfare; it was flagrant from
his eager tone he was merely looking for an intriguing story to pass the
time at this late hour.
"Fine," she answered softly, and gathered her purse as she saw the
bright lights of the hotel coming closer. She wiped her face quickly; no
need for the entire world to see "Mina Kinsley" crying her heart out on the
supposedly magical night of the premiere. "Thanks." She muttered idly,
tossing him a few crumpled bills and turning before he pulled away into the
dark night with a loud screech, off to find another stranded, sobbing woman
who needed a ride.
She trudged up the stairs dejectedly, wondering if escaping tonight
was an option for her. The thought was more than tempting, but she knew she
would never have the courage to do that to her sister. The entire plan may
be her only choice of refuge, but it would leave Mina in a convoluted mess
filled with people asking pesky questions and Nigel castigating her
ferociously.
Once inside her hotel room, she ordered enough room service to feed
three people and plopped down on the couch, suddenly too tired to even
change out of her formal wear. Instead, she managed to kick off her shoes
with leaden limbs and stare into space for an unaccounted amount of time.
She couldn't bring herself to cry, it required too much energy—energy that
had been zapped out of her the moment she arrived to the safe asylum of her
room. So she lay down in the sitting room, gazing up at the ceiling,
wondering why this was happening to her. It wasn't fair, it just wasn't
fair.
She loved him, she had known that for quite some time, but after
seeing that new side of him, there wasn't a doubt in her mind. She loved
him—and he loved Mina. She repeated his husky words over and over in her
mind, punishing herself further by remembering the way he had said her
sister's name. He had never once said 'Serena'. And he never would. Because
to him she did not exist and that final thought was her undoing. With a
whimper, she let her hands fly to cover her face to stop the inevitable
tears.
But a doorbell impeded them and Serena vaguely remembered ordering
food. She got up listlessly, ordering her indolent limbs to move her to the
door. After what seemed like twenty rings, she finally managed to open the
door and nearly swung it back shut when she saw who was on the other end.
He quickly wedged one polished shoe in between the door and the frame,
making all attempts at blocking his entrance futile. He slipped in the room
and shut the door behind him, allowing Serena time to move quickly back into
the sitting room…and as far away from him as she could. Her temporary torpor
was extinguished in light of her sudden quandary.
But as he entered the room after her, he didn't look the least bit
furious at her hasty departure. His handsome face was soft and benign, his
eyes emollient. "Why did you run?" He asked finally.
"I—I," Serena stuttered, unsure of herself and what to say that could
possibly mollify him. "I don't know."
"You know, Mina. You really do confuse me." He laughed shortly, running
a hand through his dark hair. His bow tie was hanging loose and his first
shirt button was undone. "You're an enigma, do you know that? You say one
thing, then do the exact opposite. One minute you're hot, the next cold."
She squeezed her eyes shut, not wanting to hear his valid words. "I
know…I—I'm sorry."
"And stop saying that!" He barked in such a harsh voice that was the
complete antithesis of his earlier tone, she jumped involuntarily. He must
have seen her fearful reaction and alleviated the callousness in his voice.
"Just tell me whatever I've done to offend you. I'd like to know so I can
free myself from any grievances you seem to hold against me."
"You haven't done anything." She wanted to urge him to realize it was
her, there was nothing to exculpate him from, but he wouldn't understand
that and Serena knew it didn't sound very plausible.
"Don't give me that," he said sharply. "You're polar opposites with me
and I want to know why."
"I don't know why," she answered with a burst of emotion she didn't
know she had. "Happy? I don't know. You make me so incredibly confused, I
just—I just don't know anything anymore." She sank down on the nearby sofa
after her nearly lucid tirade, her energy spent.
She heard him sign heavily and felt the weight shift on the couch as he
joined her there, wrapping his arms around her and drawing her to him. She
stayed in the warm comfort, allowing herself to relax, if only for a short
time. He propped his chin on her blonde head and deftly undid the intricate
twist it had taken a good thirty minutes to craft. He stroked her thick hair
for some time, soothing her with the languid caress.
"Mina," he began tenderly, but she stiffened before he had even gotten
the word out. Pushing herself out of his grasp, she tucked the waves of hair
framing her slender face behind her ears and stood up. "What?" He asked,
exasperated and all signs of patience gone.
She wanted to tell him right then and there. She wanted him to hold her
afterward and tell her it didn't matter because he loved her—not Mina. She
could tell him now, quietly and concisely. Then explain her true feelings
and let him hold her and let him tell her how much he loved her for her—not
a name. But she couldn't.
"You should go," she finally whispered, turning her back to him and
biting her lip to desist its trembling.
"No." It was incontrovertible.
She remained away from him, not wanting to see his frustrated face. "I
want you to go." She persisted, trying unsuccessfully to make her voice
unattached and stolid.
"No you don't." It wasn't the supercilious tone he had shared with her
earlier while teasing her, it was matter-of-fact and much to her
disconcertion, true.
But the level—headed part of her knew he shouldn't be here—this close to
her. Because if he stayed, she would break down and tell him everything. How
much she loved him, how she hated herself for her betrayal against him, how
life was like before him. Everything.
In her deep train of thought, she hadn't heard nor felt him come
closer to her and was properly surprised when she flicked up her eyes to see
him standing before her, gazing down at her red eyes concernedly.
She pinched her eyes shut and dugs her fingernails into her palms
convulsively. "Please, Darien." She whispered hoarsely. "Just go."
He ignored her pleas as if he hadn't heard them—or chose not to.
"What's wrong?" He demanded.
"Nothing," she insisted, turning away from him.
He clamped his hands on her shoulders to keep her in place. "That's a
crapload and we both know it."
"Let go of me," she said, struggling for calmness she knew she didn't
possess.
"I love you—" he began and then stopped at the sight of her hung head
and slim shoulders shaking. "What the—"
"Please, don't. Please don't say that," she cried, collapsing against
him and sobbing into his bleached shirt.
"Why?" He asked dumbly, mutely noting her tears were most definitely
not of joy.
"Because you can't—you just can't!" She shoved herself away from him
and took a step back, hand curled about her throat.
"Can't what? Love you?" He asked incredulously, when she turned her
head away he knew his answer. "Well, that's just too bad, Mina. Because I
do—and I don't care how many times I have to say it until you here me!"
She grew frantic, hysterically crying, "What do I have to do to make
you leave? Tell you I don't care about you? Well, fine, Darien. I don't! I
don't care one iota about you! You mean absolutely nothing to me!" She was a
quivering mass of tears and emotion, shaking so hard he thought the room
might start to quake as well.
Maybe two hours ago, those words would have cut deep, probably because
he might have been inclined to believe them. But one didn't show this much
passion and emotion to someone he was indifferent to. He covered the
distance between them and simply held her, paying no heed to her struggles.
"Just go," she whispered achingly, before resting the hands that had
thumped on his still chest. "Please." She made no move to turn away from his
embrace and Darien took that as a sign.
"I can't." His voice was so painstakingly coarse and tremulous that
Serena had to lift her head and look into his mercurial eyes. "Do you love
me?" The words were quiet, but Serena heard the shakiness that belied her
previous opinion of him being a cold, untouchable man with an impenetrable
shield. He was vulnerable, she realized as she stared up at him, and just
like every other human, afraid of rejection. And her love for him grew to
such an alarming rate, she found it hard to speak. They simply stared at
each other for a full thirty seconds, Serena dimly aware that she should say
something.
She opened her mouth, prepared to deny it, but at the last moment she
made the mistake of looking into his eyes and watching the hesitant specks
of silver that were open and sensitive. And she couldn't lie, not even to
preserve both their lives in the long run. She simply looked at him,
conscious that her feelings were evident her eyes and expressive face. And
he saw her unspoken words and tightened his grip on her jubilantly, kissing
her temple, her nose, her cheeks, her forehead…
"God," he muttered hoarsely. "How I love you."
She pulled away from his hold just far enough to look at his chiseled
face, shoving the nagging doubts about the future away. She gave him a
watery smile and stood on her toes to kiss him with a passion that surprised
them both. And when he began to kiss her back, she successfully blocked all
the whispers of her lies and deceit out of her mind. She would deal with
them all tomorrow. But for now, she loved him, and he was hers.
****
Serena woke up the next day feeling the most rested she had in years.
Her cheek brushed against the material of a man's shirt, and she looked up
to see Darien's sleeping face. She smiled as she quietly detangled herself
from him, straightening her formal dress she had yet to take off. She gazed
at his peaceful face with a soft smile, staring with awe at how in sleep he
looked untroubled, placid, and even boyish. The hard lines that were
apparent when he had talked about his unfortunate youth disappeared while he
was resting.
Pushing away from his sleeping figure on the couch, she hummed lightly
while remembering the previous evening. They had danced and talked and eaten
and then simply held each other, finally falling asleep together.
Her face grew somber as she contemplated what was ahead. She was no
fool, she knew that today she would have to tell him and that he would be
angry. But she also knew that she loved him—and that made the risk of his
formidable temper worth it. Mustering up her courage so she would be ready
when he awoke, she set out to remedy the task of breakfast, calling room
service yet again.
Showering and dressing quickly in a pair of pressed slacks and a fitted
black sweater, she opened the door to the sitting room and found him
stirring awake.
"Good morning," she said cheerfully, smiling unconsciously at his
rumpled hair and disheveled appearance. Biting down nervousness, she
prevaricated the inevitable situation further at the sight of his large
figure coming toward her. "Ah, ah, ah," she warned as he made a move to hug
her. "Shave first." She admonished with a teasing glance, gesturing to his
stubble.
Smiling a lopsided grin, he rolled his eyes and quickly rubbed his
course cheek against her soft one. Squealing in surprise, Serena pushed him
into the bedroom she had just occupied. "I don't have any clothes that would
fit you, but there are extra toiletries in the first drawer of the night
table."
He was almost through the door before turning around to look at her.
"Food, woman." He growled in a tone that was given away by the sparkling
tenderness in his cobalt eyes.
She laughed while he closed the door and then suddenly ceased. The
night dresser…
It was where she kept all of Mina's letters and postcards, opened and
displayed for anyone to see…and find the truth. Not losing a minute, she ran
from the kitchenette to the bedroom and flung open the door to see Darien,
poring over the private letters she knew he had a right to read. He looked
up at her over the sheaf of brightly colored postcards and loose-leaf
papers, shock and disbelief written over his bright eyes.
"Serena?" He said gruffly, a moment of pain was evident to her before
that cold mask she had grown accustomed to and hated settled over his
handsome face. She shivered at the sound of her name on his lips for the
first time and desperately wished it was filled with tender longing instead
of spiteful hate at her ruse.
They stared at each other in silence, each struck dumb by such acute
pain, time seemed lost to them. Darien swallowed harshly, wanting
desperately to throw something; strike someone. He wanted to turn his back
on her and walk away, but he wanted—needed answers to questions about her
fabricated lies and brilliant coup.
As he stared at her beautiful, wan face filled with unshed tears, wrath
and agony poured through his veins like acid. He wanted to pull her into his
arms and beseech her to tell him it wasn't true; he wanted to pour his soul
into her until there wasn't any room for deceit or lies. He wanted to
strangle her for her treachery; to murder her with is own hands.
He wanted to die.