Broken
Chapter Four
By Karisma
Rated: PG-13
Genre: Alt, Romance
Karisma456@hotmail.com
Standard Disclaimers Apply
August 2001
Darien watched with unconcealed fascination as the gorgeous woman
stepped into his office and walked over to where her laptop sat. His blue
eyes grew hooded as they lit over her mass of blonde waves, her flushed
cheeks, and the two unbuttoned parts of her crème colored blouse. His
expression was appreciative and frank as it appraised her various
attributes.
It was the same stare that had Serena confused until she caught a
glimpse of herself in the small mirror above his mini bar across the room.
She silently gasped at the picture she made: her hair was a riotous mess,
her cheeks were pink, and her blouse was in a state of utter disrepute.
Casually, to appear as if her appearance was nothing out of the norm, she
fastened the buttons. The next step was for her hair, but when she had
pulled out the black ribbon that normally kept it secured behind her, Darien
was there first, snatching the ribbon out of her hand with an agility that
scared her.
She spun around to nearly collide into his broad chest. Stumbling back a
few steps away from him, she blinked rapidly. After a few moments, she held
out her hand palm up. She injected as much control as she could into her
voice. "Could I have my ribbon back, please?"
"No," it was unequivocal and the bluntness of it sent her eyes up to
collide with his firm ones. She waited, dumbstruck and he continued gently,
"You're not ninety, Serena. You don't have to hide your youth and beauty."
"I'm not hiding anything," she snapped sourly, stepping forward, her
hand still outstretched. He took it, but for an entirely different purpose.
He led her over to the mirror, forcing her to look at the young woman
reflected back at her.
"Like hell you're not hiding. Look at you, Serena." His voice turned
husky. "Look at you." Their eyes met in the mirror and she gulped, afraid of
what was happening to her heart, her mind, her body. He gently placed his
index finger over the triangle at the base of her throat. His finger brushed
against the soft skin, making her shiver involuntarily. "Where did you get
this scar?" It was the same soft tone that made her more nervous than his
dour moods.
The scar. Nestled in the hollow of her throat was a small white line
that was caused by a deep cut Ajay's ring had made when he landed her a blow
that sent her head reeling back, nearly breaking her jaw. The painful memory
was enough to jar her into the real world. She broke away from his touch and
tried to move away, but just as she thought he would let her by, his hand
snatched out to grab her wrist and pull her back to him.
Panic erupted in her as he put his arms around her, effectively
confining her between the wall where the mirror was placed and his hard
body. "Please let me go," she whispered, trying to suppress the fear that
was ebbing within her.
He smiled very gently, his blue eyes crinkling in the corners. Then he
lowered his head to kiss her in a soft, slow way that reminded her of the
night by the door of her apartment building. Without any direct message from
her mind, her arms rose up to wind themselves around his neck. Fear was
gone, replaced by an unfamiliar sense of need. She only stiffened when he
deepened the kiss and as if sensing her hesitation, he obliging went back to
the soft brushing of his lips against hers.
But soon it wasn't enough and with slow deliberation that required no
thinking from her brain, she parted her lips and heard his quiet groan as he
accepted the offering and mingled his tongue with her own. The instant she
felt his tongue in her, Serena felt a jolt to her system that was
terrifyingly new. She had been kissed before, but never had she wanted it to
go on. Never had she wanted to forget time and stay like this forever, wound
in the protective embrace of…
Darien!
She gasped lightly and pushed the heels of her hands against his chest.
Shoving him away, she raised her shaking hand to her bruised lips, wondering
if they were as red and swollen as they felt. She didn't dare bring her gaze
up to his heavy lidded one.
"I'm sorry, I—" She started to apologize, make excuses for why what
happened took place.
"I'm not," he interjected smoothly and Serena couldn't bring herself to
look up at his un doubt satisfied and calm face. Did the man ever get
flustered?
"We'll just forget all about it."
"I dare you to even try." His challenging tone brought Serena's head
jerking up against her will. She met smiling eyes that revealed he was
entirely too sure of himself.
She was more firm in her next response. "We'll pretend it never
happened."
"Impossible."
He was right on that part; Serena thought she'd never forget the way
his lips burned into hers. "It'll never happen again," she averred.
"Like hell."
Did he have an answer for everything? Serena thought, frustrated beyond
belief. "If it does, I'll leave," she threatened, crossing her arms over her
chest in what could only be construed as a protective stance.
His voice changed, no longer was it challenging. It was now soft,
mocking even. "Liar."
Serena parted her mouth and no sound came out. She had met her match;
never had she not been without the last word and yet her she was, open
mouthed with a blank slate for a mind. She shook her head ruefully, forcing
her lips to form a parody of a smile. "Good-bye, Mr. McDermott." She
gathered up the coat she had draped over the back of the couch and headed
toward the door, her blonde hair shimmering under the bright light above
them.
"Wait." His voice stopped her. It wasn't a request, it was a command
and she instinctively followed it. But she did not turn around as she
remained frozen. "Have dinner with me tonight."
She opened her mouth to rattle off one of the polite rejections she had
been accustomed to spewing for the past seven years, but something halted
her. She thought back to her mother and what she had said during their lunch
conversation. Perhaps it was time she became a part of the living again. And
one measly dinner couldn't do much harm, could it? If Darien had wanted to
come onto her by force, he had had plenty of opportunities in the past week
where they had been working alone in the office together.
In light of all of this, when she tilted only her head to look over at
him and smile, her response was completely justified. "Maybe some other
night, Darien," she said quietly, her voice sincere.
Darien nodded, taking the reply as the yes it meant. His face was
expressionless as she allowed him one more tiny smile and exited. His
appearance was one of stoic calm until he sat behind his desk and whirled
around to face the effect the bright afternoon sunshine had on the world
below. But his eyes saw none of the sparkling beauty below him, for his
thoughts were already days ahead to that long awaited night, a slow smile
creeping its way to the corners of his firm mouth.
****
Darien waited impatiently for Serena to return from the bathroom. He
had told her their dinner settings would be formal, so she had brought a
change of clothes. After a stretching time period of fifteen minutes, of
which he spend the majority of pacing and tapping his foot, she finally
slipped in through the doors, her back to him as she shut it behind her.
When she finally turned around, Darien's eyes roved over her figure in
frank appreciation. His appraisal did not go unnoticed, as Serena soon had a
faint blush covering her cheeks. The dress was of blue satin that skimmed
over her hips and fell to the floor in an elegant swirl around her feet. The
modest neckline and straps would have deemed the dress demure, if it weren't
for the back, which was bare to the mid-back, save the slim, criss-crossing
straps.
She shoved a lock of blonde hair behind her ear only to have the wave
come back to its original position. Clearing her throat, she stepped closer
to him, her heels clicking softly against the hard floor. Nervousness filled
her very being from being in such a revealing gown. Her mother had bought it
for her some time ago, hoping the beauty of the dress would extract her from
the austere wardrobe she had settled for. She had never worn it, never even
thought of wearing it. But suddenly, as Darien's icy blue gaze narrowed
before he smiled, she was very glad her mother had done such a thing.
"You look lovely, Serena."
She wondered for a split second how many times he had practiced that
very line on other women before it had the raw huskiness it did now.
Reminding herself that this was dinner and nothing more, she mentally erased
any notions about even caring in the slightest about his past paramours.
"Thank you."
Darien reached for her coat, which was draped over her arm, prepared to
help her into it, when the phone rang abruptly. He suppressed his groan of
annoyance and strode over to his desk, picking up the black device with a
savagery that surprised Serena.
"Hello?" His voice was gruff and could be interpreted as downright
rude. "Oh, hello, Mr. Singh." Serena noticed his tone did not get anymore
polite, even when he realized the VIP he was conversing with. It was
flattering, knowing that he was peeved at the slightest bit of interruption
from their evening together.
Serena smiled, acknowledging the unspoken compliment. When she looked
up, she saw Darien grimacing as he listened carefully. And somehow, even
before Darien hung up the phone and turned to her, she knew.
"Looks like we're about to have our meeting for the day."
She nodded, half ecstatic to receive such an excuse out of the nerve
wracking date, half disappointed not to be able to spend the evening with
the handsome man in front of her. Serena put her coat down very carefully
and sat primly on the couch, waiting for the meeting to commence.
Darien stared at her adjustment to the situation with admiration.
Rather than complain about the extra hours and the lack of dinner, she
simply nodded and prepared for it. He smiled at her search for a pen and pad
of paper to take down notes she might need and walked over to join her on
the couch.
She looked up, startled, to see him so close to her. In all of their
conferences, he had always chosen to sit on the armchair across from her,
never next to her. She blinked and offered him a half smile at the grin her
gave her. They might have looked silly, conducting business while they both
were dressed to the nines, but neither cared as Darien pressed the button to
include Mr. Singh in on their conversation.
An hour later had it difficult for Serena to continue talking in her
clear, cool voice when Darien's hand had found her own and was stroking it.
The caress may have been idle for him, as he looked at ease while talking,
but her own heart was having severe problems keeping a normal rhythm as his
thumb rubbed the smooth skin of her hand.
When Mr. Singh's excused himself for a moment and his muffled voice was
angrily conferring with another party, Darien shot her a curious look. She
shook her head the negative to inform him she couldn't understand what they
were discussing. When the line cleared and Mr. Singh's voice came through,
he sounded perturbed to say the least. He uttered a few terse words and then
the line went dead.
Serena blinked at the succinct phrase. Turning to Darien, she
translated slowly, "He said he had to go attend to something, but that he'd
contact us later on tonight."
Darien rolled his eyes and his voice was wry when she spoke next. "Or
tomorrow morning. Mr. Singh isn't too considerate, is he?"
She had to stop herself from saying the natural words that almost
slipped out, "He never was." Thankful that she caught herself in time, she
stood up and said instead, "Well, I suppose I had better change."
He looked down at her physique and was about to voice how he vastly
preferred this article of clothing opposed to the grave style she usually
donned, when she hurriedly continued, backing out of his office. "Come get
me if he calls, all right?"
He was tempted to get her regardless of whether or not the bothersome
Sameer called. But he said nothing as she exited once again, the cloud of
dark blue slipping out the door.
When she came back, Darien almost groaned at the sight of her pleated
blouse and soft, loose dress pants. Repeatedly wishing there was some excuse
he could give that made it mandatory for her to get back in that appealing
dress, he smiled at her as she shyly stepped forward, timidly coming back to
the previous spot she had just vacated.
"So," she said cautiously, "Do you have any work to do while we wait?"
Darien looked at the pile of work he had planned to accomplish tomorrow
and for the first time, had no desire whatsoever to complete it ahead of
schedule. Realizing he would much rather sit and enjoy her company, he
grinned and replied, "No, actually, I don't."
"Oh." She looked down at her clasped hands in her lap.
They were quiet for a few moments, until Darien spied of a deck of
cards Ken had left there from his morning game of solitaire while he waited
for Darien to finish his chart reviews so he could talk to him. Thankful for
his friends forgetfulness, Darien whipped the cards out and shuffled them,
not moving his gaze from Serena's confused one while he did so.
"Darien, what—"
"Go fish," he interrupted, pushing her cards to her. He waited until
she was done staring at him in bewilderment and scooted over to brace her
back against the armrest before he said, "Seven."
Serena propped her stocking-clad feet beneath her as she stared at him
with narrowed eyes. Reluctantly handing him the card, he snatched it from
her with a satisfied smirk.
****
"You're a cheater!" She accused forty-five minutes and twelve
consecutive losses for her later.
"You're a sore loser," he shot back, collecting the small pile of loose
change they had scrounged up to bet with.
She threw her remaining cards at him in a mock attempt to show her
anger. She gathered the cards and dealt, throwing him suspicious looks all
the while.
"You, my dear, are just jealous of my superior skills." He buffed his
nails on his shirt and Serena rolled her eyes.
"Poker," she announced, changing their game to one she might be able to
win.
"Strip?" He suggested.
Serena grew frightfully pale before flushing and lightly bantering
back, "I would, but since I have no desire to see you down to your skivvies,
I'm going to have to decline."
"That's awfully strange, Serena," his voice did a hundred and eighty
degree turn from humorous to husky. "Because I, for one, can't wait to see
you in your skivvies."
Serena blinked and backed further into her corner of the couch.
Clearing her throat nervously, she held up her cards and stared at them
intently, trying to ignore Darien's prying eyes.
They played for a while, Serena collected back the coins she had lost
from a protesting Darien, until she grew tired and yawned. Darien patted her
ankle and allowed her to stretch on the couch. She mumbled something about
what he would do since Sameer hadn't called, but he insisted she rest and
soon she was asleep.
Darien fixed himself a drink and took the glass over to where the
curtains were drawn. Pulling back the heavy draperies only a bit, he allowed
himself to sip absently while he stared down at the twinkling lights of
London. One hand shoved into the side pocket of his wheat colored slacks, he
indulged himself in thinking about the young woman sleeping not ten yards
away from him.
She was a conundrum, laughing and at ease one moment, tense and afraid
the next. He had seen enough of her to know without a shadow of a doubt that
this was real; this was the real Serena Corday. She was shy, elusive, sweet.
She was biting, edgy, and with dry humor She was everything. And that upset
him. It was incredibly aggravating knowing with each passing day he was
getting more and more intrigued by her, but those same days brought him
closer to the moment where he wouldn't see her expressive face every
morning. Infatuation, he acknowledged dryly, was not all it was cracked up
to be. It was hell; it was annoying; it was irritating.
But somehow, whenever she gave him that half smile and ducked her head
in that adorable way, it made all the unbearable moments seem livable. In
fact, those little quirks of her mouth made the highlight of his day. He
knew, from experience, what the effect of them was.
A few days ago, he had received the quelling news that one of his
communication centers in France had been ransacked. The cost of repairs and
lost time was enough to send him into a particularly terrifying mood. But
Serena had acknowledged his dour expression with a quirky grin of her own
and cracked awful jokes until he had been no proof against her infectious
laugh. In a half hour's time, France and money and time was the last thing
on his mind. Only the special way her eyes glittered when her lips parted
back to beam up at him and show a small, even row of white teeth occupied
his mind. She was drugging, addicting, and utterly dangerous.
And he had only kissed her twice.
And he wanted more.
Against his will, his head turned back to gaze at her peaceful face
with an unconsciously fond smile. His soft grin soon wilted as he saw
Serena's brow furrow in agitation. He took a few steps closer to her only to
hear her breathing turn harsh as she gasped softly. He thought he saw
perspiration lining her face before he stepped even closer to see it was not
sweat that shined her face, but tears.
Two dark brows knitted together as he leaned down next to her, close
enough to hear exactly what it was that she was moaning. It was a hushed
whisper as a few more tears ran down her smooth cheeks: "Please don't.
Please."
The obvious question that popped to Darien's mind was don't do what. It
was answered almost immediately as Serena rocked back and forth, clasping
her arms about her protectively, her face wincing as if she was receiving
harsh blows. "No, I won't let you." It was then her arms flew out, not to
protect herself, but to lash out at her dream attacker.
Darien received the blows and warded off the small fists easily. He
shook her lightly to wake up and when it was apparent she wasn't going to,
he manacled her wrists together and spoke. "Serena, wake up."
She grunted and began to use her legs to fight him. It was obvious
Darien had become the attacker to her; she seemed to be in a state where
reality and dreams had meshed into one, incoherent mess. It took a great
deal of struggling, but Darien had managed to lean over her, pining her
fighting body with his own.
After a while, it seemed as if she had given up the fight in her
nightmare. She went limp in his arms, tears rolling down faster than he
could try to brush away. Her breathing was ragged and uneven, his lips
slightly parted to gasp air in between silent sobs. She looked lost, broken;
as if all the energy was drained from her.
But suddenly she jerked upright, taking Darien by surprise as the force
of her movement knocked them both down to the carpeted floor beneath them.
Her hands flew to her face as she curled into a small ball, shaking
uncontrollably. "No," she whispered wretchedly. "No, no, no."
Darien rolled over onto his back, dazed for a brief moment before
Serena's hushed murmurs brought him to her side. He lightly touched her
back, rubbing gently in what he hoped was a soothing motion. This was a
first for him, comforting someone, especially a woman. Never had he tried
to. More importantly, never had he wanted to.
"Shhh," he crooned near her ear, slowly turning her over in his arms to
embrace her. She immediately saw this attempt at close contact as a threat
and reared back, her arms flung forward to ward him off. Her blows were
entirely too damaging this time and it took Darien twice as much time to
detain her this time. Finally, he managed to shackle her wrists and pin them
above her head with one of his much larger hands. "Serena!" He barked, his
voice intentionally harsh and demanding.
She was jarred awake and opened her blue, teary eyes to look up at him.
His voice and expression softened at the vulnerable look her pale face had
in the dim light. Blonde wisps of her silken hair had gotten caught in her
long eyelashes and Darien lifted his free hand to gently push the wayward
hairs back behind her ears. She didn't flinch like the other times he had
touched her when she was unaware and he took immense pleasure in that fact.
She simply continued to look up at him, her eyes large and unwavering,
gazing up with an intense amount of trust and wariness.
"Darien?" She finally croaked, her voice thick, partially from sleep
and somewhat from their intimate position.
The husky undertones of her voice mixed with her beguiling eyes was his
undoing. They both realized their situation at the same time. Serena was
under him, her arms raised above her head, leaving her slim body
susceptible. Darien's tall frame was stretched half next to her, half over
her. Every inch of their bodies was familiar to the other as their figures
were closely molded.
He searched her wet eyes for a second before groaning and leaning down
to catch her mouth. He surprised himself with his gentleness as his lips
brushed against her warm ones. He listened as her breath was caught in her
throat, making a gravelly, yet soft sound that was an aphrodisiac in itself.
Neither of them knew how long they remained on the thick carpet,
holding each other as if their lives depended on it, but at one point
kissing wasn't enough any more. Serena knew it too and broke away from him,
afraid of where this was leading. Darien noticed the absence of her warm
body with him and bent his head to catch her eyes. She bit her lower lip
anxiously as he smiled reassuringly at her and made a move to pull her to
him again.
She shook her head rapidly and scooted away, her back pressed painfully
against the foot of the couch. He saw her frightened face and frowned in
confusion and worry. She took the face the mean he was angry and her lip
trembled as she tried to sit up, all the while darting him nervous looks.
When his long arm reached out to pull her back down, she had to bite
down a scream. "Shh," he mollified once again, his embrace tender as he
wrapped his arms around her, drawing her into the safe cocoon of his hug. "I
just want to hold you," he explained, his warm breath stirring the hair at
her temple. Her back was against his solid chest and she sighed, letting her
body relax. Soon Darien heard the even sounds of her sleeping peacefully.
Then, and only then, did he allow himself to succumb to the restless doze
that had him thinking of and discarding different elucidations for her
obvious fright of him.
_________________________________________________________________
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Chapter Four
By Karisma
Rated: PG-13
Genre: Alt, Romance
Karisma456@hotmail.com
Standard Disclaimers Apply
August 2001
Darien watched with unconcealed fascination as the gorgeous woman
stepped into his office and walked over to where her laptop sat. His blue
eyes grew hooded as they lit over her mass of blonde waves, her flushed
cheeks, and the two unbuttoned parts of her crème colored blouse. His
expression was appreciative and frank as it appraised her various
attributes.
It was the same stare that had Serena confused until she caught a
glimpse of herself in the small mirror above his mini bar across the room.
She silently gasped at the picture she made: her hair was a riotous mess,
her cheeks were pink, and her blouse was in a state of utter disrepute.
Casually, to appear as if her appearance was nothing out of the norm, she
fastened the buttons. The next step was for her hair, but when she had
pulled out the black ribbon that normally kept it secured behind her, Darien
was there first, snatching the ribbon out of her hand with an agility that
scared her.
She spun around to nearly collide into his broad chest. Stumbling back a
few steps away from him, she blinked rapidly. After a few moments, she held
out her hand palm up. She injected as much control as she could into her
voice. "Could I have my ribbon back, please?"
"No," it was unequivocal and the bluntness of it sent her eyes up to
collide with his firm ones. She waited, dumbstruck and he continued gently,
"You're not ninety, Serena. You don't have to hide your youth and beauty."
"I'm not hiding anything," she snapped sourly, stepping forward, her
hand still outstretched. He took it, but for an entirely different purpose.
He led her over to the mirror, forcing her to look at the young woman
reflected back at her.
"Like hell you're not hiding. Look at you, Serena." His voice turned
husky. "Look at you." Their eyes met in the mirror and she gulped, afraid of
what was happening to her heart, her mind, her body. He gently placed his
index finger over the triangle at the base of her throat. His finger brushed
against the soft skin, making her shiver involuntarily. "Where did you get
this scar?" It was the same soft tone that made her more nervous than his
dour moods.
The scar. Nestled in the hollow of her throat was a small white line
that was caused by a deep cut Ajay's ring had made when he landed her a blow
that sent her head reeling back, nearly breaking her jaw. The painful memory
was enough to jar her into the real world. She broke away from his touch and
tried to move away, but just as she thought he would let her by, his hand
snatched out to grab her wrist and pull her back to him.
Panic erupted in her as he put his arms around her, effectively
confining her between the wall where the mirror was placed and his hard
body. "Please let me go," she whispered, trying to suppress the fear that
was ebbing within her.
He smiled very gently, his blue eyes crinkling in the corners. Then he
lowered his head to kiss her in a soft, slow way that reminded her of the
night by the door of her apartment building. Without any direct message from
her mind, her arms rose up to wind themselves around his neck. Fear was
gone, replaced by an unfamiliar sense of need. She only stiffened when he
deepened the kiss and as if sensing her hesitation, he obliging went back to
the soft brushing of his lips against hers.
But soon it wasn't enough and with slow deliberation that required no
thinking from her brain, she parted her lips and heard his quiet groan as he
accepted the offering and mingled his tongue with her own. The instant she
felt his tongue in her, Serena felt a jolt to her system that was
terrifyingly new. She had been kissed before, but never had she wanted it to
go on. Never had she wanted to forget time and stay like this forever, wound
in the protective embrace of…
Darien!
She gasped lightly and pushed the heels of her hands against his chest.
Shoving him away, she raised her shaking hand to her bruised lips, wondering
if they were as red and swollen as they felt. She didn't dare bring her gaze
up to his heavy lidded one.
"I'm sorry, I—" She started to apologize, make excuses for why what
happened took place.
"I'm not," he interjected smoothly and Serena couldn't bring herself to
look up at his un doubt satisfied and calm face. Did the man ever get
flustered?
"We'll just forget all about it."
"I dare you to even try." His challenging tone brought Serena's head
jerking up against her will. She met smiling eyes that revealed he was
entirely too sure of himself.
She was more firm in her next response. "We'll pretend it never
happened."
"Impossible."
He was right on that part; Serena thought she'd never forget the way
his lips burned into hers. "It'll never happen again," she averred.
"Like hell."
Did he have an answer for everything? Serena thought, frustrated beyond
belief. "If it does, I'll leave," she threatened, crossing her arms over her
chest in what could only be construed as a protective stance.
His voice changed, no longer was it challenging. It was now soft,
mocking even. "Liar."
Serena parted her mouth and no sound came out. She had met her match;
never had she not been without the last word and yet her she was, open
mouthed with a blank slate for a mind. She shook her head ruefully, forcing
her lips to form a parody of a smile. "Good-bye, Mr. McDermott." She
gathered up the coat she had draped over the back of the couch and headed
toward the door, her blonde hair shimmering under the bright light above
them.
"Wait." His voice stopped her. It wasn't a request, it was a command
and she instinctively followed it. But she did not turn around as she
remained frozen. "Have dinner with me tonight."
She opened her mouth to rattle off one of the polite rejections she had
been accustomed to spewing for the past seven years, but something halted
her. She thought back to her mother and what she had said during their lunch
conversation. Perhaps it was time she became a part of the living again. And
one measly dinner couldn't do much harm, could it? If Darien had wanted to
come onto her by force, he had had plenty of opportunities in the past week
where they had been working alone in the office together.
In light of all of this, when she tilted only her head to look over at
him and smile, her response was completely justified. "Maybe some other
night, Darien," she said quietly, her voice sincere.
Darien nodded, taking the reply as the yes it meant. His face was
expressionless as she allowed him one more tiny smile and exited. His
appearance was one of stoic calm until he sat behind his desk and whirled
around to face the effect the bright afternoon sunshine had on the world
below. But his eyes saw none of the sparkling beauty below him, for his
thoughts were already days ahead to that long awaited night, a slow smile
creeping its way to the corners of his firm mouth.
****
Darien waited impatiently for Serena to return from the bathroom. He
had told her their dinner settings would be formal, so she had brought a
change of clothes. After a stretching time period of fifteen minutes, of
which he spend the majority of pacing and tapping his foot, she finally
slipped in through the doors, her back to him as she shut it behind her.
When she finally turned around, Darien's eyes roved over her figure in
frank appreciation. His appraisal did not go unnoticed, as Serena soon had a
faint blush covering her cheeks. The dress was of blue satin that skimmed
over her hips and fell to the floor in an elegant swirl around her feet. The
modest neckline and straps would have deemed the dress demure, if it weren't
for the back, which was bare to the mid-back, save the slim, criss-crossing
straps.
She shoved a lock of blonde hair behind her ear only to have the wave
come back to its original position. Clearing her throat, she stepped closer
to him, her heels clicking softly against the hard floor. Nervousness filled
her very being from being in such a revealing gown. Her mother had bought it
for her some time ago, hoping the beauty of the dress would extract her from
the austere wardrobe she had settled for. She had never worn it, never even
thought of wearing it. But suddenly, as Darien's icy blue gaze narrowed
before he smiled, she was very glad her mother had done such a thing.
"You look lovely, Serena."
She wondered for a split second how many times he had practiced that
very line on other women before it had the raw huskiness it did now.
Reminding herself that this was dinner and nothing more, she mentally erased
any notions about even caring in the slightest about his past paramours.
"Thank you."
Darien reached for her coat, which was draped over her arm, prepared to
help her into it, when the phone rang abruptly. He suppressed his groan of
annoyance and strode over to his desk, picking up the black device with a
savagery that surprised Serena.
"Hello?" His voice was gruff and could be interpreted as downright
rude. "Oh, hello, Mr. Singh." Serena noticed his tone did not get anymore
polite, even when he realized the VIP he was conversing with. It was
flattering, knowing that he was peeved at the slightest bit of interruption
from their evening together.
Serena smiled, acknowledging the unspoken compliment. When she looked
up, she saw Darien grimacing as he listened carefully. And somehow, even
before Darien hung up the phone and turned to her, she knew.
"Looks like we're about to have our meeting for the day."
She nodded, half ecstatic to receive such an excuse out of the nerve
wracking date, half disappointed not to be able to spend the evening with
the handsome man in front of her. Serena put her coat down very carefully
and sat primly on the couch, waiting for the meeting to commence.
Darien stared at her adjustment to the situation with admiration.
Rather than complain about the extra hours and the lack of dinner, she
simply nodded and prepared for it. He smiled at her search for a pen and pad
of paper to take down notes she might need and walked over to join her on
the couch.
She looked up, startled, to see him so close to her. In all of their
conferences, he had always chosen to sit on the armchair across from her,
never next to her. She blinked and offered him a half smile at the grin her
gave her. They might have looked silly, conducting business while they both
were dressed to the nines, but neither cared as Darien pressed the button to
include Mr. Singh in on their conversation.
An hour later had it difficult for Serena to continue talking in her
clear, cool voice when Darien's hand had found her own and was stroking it.
The caress may have been idle for him, as he looked at ease while talking,
but her own heart was having severe problems keeping a normal rhythm as his
thumb rubbed the smooth skin of her hand.
When Mr. Singh's excused himself for a moment and his muffled voice was
angrily conferring with another party, Darien shot her a curious look. She
shook her head the negative to inform him she couldn't understand what they
were discussing. When the line cleared and Mr. Singh's voice came through,
he sounded perturbed to say the least. He uttered a few terse words and then
the line went dead.
Serena blinked at the succinct phrase. Turning to Darien, she
translated slowly, "He said he had to go attend to something, but that he'd
contact us later on tonight."
Darien rolled his eyes and his voice was wry when she spoke next. "Or
tomorrow morning. Mr. Singh isn't too considerate, is he?"
She had to stop herself from saying the natural words that almost
slipped out, "He never was." Thankful that she caught herself in time, she
stood up and said instead, "Well, I suppose I had better change."
He looked down at her physique and was about to voice how he vastly
preferred this article of clothing opposed to the grave style she usually
donned, when she hurriedly continued, backing out of his office. "Come get
me if he calls, all right?"
He was tempted to get her regardless of whether or not the bothersome
Sameer called. But he said nothing as she exited once again, the cloud of
dark blue slipping out the door.
When she came back, Darien almost groaned at the sight of her pleated
blouse and soft, loose dress pants. Repeatedly wishing there was some excuse
he could give that made it mandatory for her to get back in that appealing
dress, he smiled at her as she shyly stepped forward, timidly coming back to
the previous spot she had just vacated.
"So," she said cautiously, "Do you have any work to do while we wait?"
Darien looked at the pile of work he had planned to accomplish tomorrow
and for the first time, had no desire whatsoever to complete it ahead of
schedule. Realizing he would much rather sit and enjoy her company, he
grinned and replied, "No, actually, I don't."
"Oh." She looked down at her clasped hands in her lap.
They were quiet for a few moments, until Darien spied of a deck of
cards Ken had left there from his morning game of solitaire while he waited
for Darien to finish his chart reviews so he could talk to him. Thankful for
his friends forgetfulness, Darien whipped the cards out and shuffled them,
not moving his gaze from Serena's confused one while he did so.
"Darien, what—"
"Go fish," he interrupted, pushing her cards to her. He waited until
she was done staring at him in bewilderment and scooted over to brace her
back against the armrest before he said, "Seven."
Serena propped her stocking-clad feet beneath her as she stared at him
with narrowed eyes. Reluctantly handing him the card, he snatched it from
her with a satisfied smirk.
****
"You're a cheater!" She accused forty-five minutes and twelve
consecutive losses for her later.
"You're a sore loser," he shot back, collecting the small pile of loose
change they had scrounged up to bet with.
She threw her remaining cards at him in a mock attempt to show her
anger. She gathered the cards and dealt, throwing him suspicious looks all
the while.
"You, my dear, are just jealous of my superior skills." He buffed his
nails on his shirt and Serena rolled her eyes.
"Poker," she announced, changing their game to one she might be able to
win.
"Strip?" He suggested.
Serena grew frightfully pale before flushing and lightly bantering
back, "I would, but since I have no desire to see you down to your skivvies,
I'm going to have to decline."
"That's awfully strange, Serena," his voice did a hundred and eighty
degree turn from humorous to husky. "Because I, for one, can't wait to see
you in your skivvies."
Serena blinked and backed further into her corner of the couch.
Clearing her throat nervously, she held up her cards and stared at them
intently, trying to ignore Darien's prying eyes.
They played for a while, Serena collected back the coins she had lost
from a protesting Darien, until she grew tired and yawned. Darien patted her
ankle and allowed her to stretch on the couch. She mumbled something about
what he would do since Sameer hadn't called, but he insisted she rest and
soon she was asleep.
Darien fixed himself a drink and took the glass over to where the
curtains were drawn. Pulling back the heavy draperies only a bit, he allowed
himself to sip absently while he stared down at the twinkling lights of
London. One hand shoved into the side pocket of his wheat colored slacks, he
indulged himself in thinking about the young woman sleeping not ten yards
away from him.
She was a conundrum, laughing and at ease one moment, tense and afraid
the next. He had seen enough of her to know without a shadow of a doubt that
this was real; this was the real Serena Corday. She was shy, elusive, sweet.
She was biting, edgy, and with dry humor She was everything. And that upset
him. It was incredibly aggravating knowing with each passing day he was
getting more and more intrigued by her, but those same days brought him
closer to the moment where he wouldn't see her expressive face every
morning. Infatuation, he acknowledged dryly, was not all it was cracked up
to be. It was hell; it was annoying; it was irritating.
But somehow, whenever she gave him that half smile and ducked her head
in that adorable way, it made all the unbearable moments seem livable. In
fact, those little quirks of her mouth made the highlight of his day. He
knew, from experience, what the effect of them was.
A few days ago, he had received the quelling news that one of his
communication centers in France had been ransacked. The cost of repairs and
lost time was enough to send him into a particularly terrifying mood. But
Serena had acknowledged his dour expression with a quirky grin of her own
and cracked awful jokes until he had been no proof against her infectious
laugh. In a half hour's time, France and money and time was the last thing
on his mind. Only the special way her eyes glittered when her lips parted
back to beam up at him and show a small, even row of white teeth occupied
his mind. She was drugging, addicting, and utterly dangerous.
And he had only kissed her twice.
And he wanted more.
Against his will, his head turned back to gaze at her peaceful face
with an unconsciously fond smile. His soft grin soon wilted as he saw
Serena's brow furrow in agitation. He took a few steps closer to her only to
hear her breathing turn harsh as she gasped softly. He thought he saw
perspiration lining her face before he stepped even closer to see it was not
sweat that shined her face, but tears.
Two dark brows knitted together as he leaned down next to her, close
enough to hear exactly what it was that she was moaning. It was a hushed
whisper as a few more tears ran down her smooth cheeks: "Please don't.
Please."
The obvious question that popped to Darien's mind was don't do what. It
was answered almost immediately as Serena rocked back and forth, clasping
her arms about her protectively, her face wincing as if she was receiving
harsh blows. "No, I won't let you." It was then her arms flew out, not to
protect herself, but to lash out at her dream attacker.
Darien received the blows and warded off the small fists easily. He
shook her lightly to wake up and when it was apparent she wasn't going to,
he manacled her wrists together and spoke. "Serena, wake up."
She grunted and began to use her legs to fight him. It was obvious
Darien had become the attacker to her; she seemed to be in a state where
reality and dreams had meshed into one, incoherent mess. It took a great
deal of struggling, but Darien had managed to lean over her, pining her
fighting body with his own.
After a while, it seemed as if she had given up the fight in her
nightmare. She went limp in his arms, tears rolling down faster than he
could try to brush away. Her breathing was ragged and uneven, his lips
slightly parted to gasp air in between silent sobs. She looked lost, broken;
as if all the energy was drained from her.
But suddenly she jerked upright, taking Darien by surprise as the force
of her movement knocked them both down to the carpeted floor beneath them.
Her hands flew to her face as she curled into a small ball, shaking
uncontrollably. "No," she whispered wretchedly. "No, no, no."
Darien rolled over onto his back, dazed for a brief moment before
Serena's hushed murmurs brought him to her side. He lightly touched her
back, rubbing gently in what he hoped was a soothing motion. This was a
first for him, comforting someone, especially a woman. Never had he tried
to. More importantly, never had he wanted to.
"Shhh," he crooned near her ear, slowly turning her over in his arms to
embrace her. She immediately saw this attempt at close contact as a threat
and reared back, her arms flung forward to ward him off. Her blows were
entirely too damaging this time and it took Darien twice as much time to
detain her this time. Finally, he managed to shackle her wrists and pin them
above her head with one of his much larger hands. "Serena!" He barked, his
voice intentionally harsh and demanding.
She was jarred awake and opened her blue, teary eyes to look up at him.
His voice and expression softened at the vulnerable look her pale face had
in the dim light. Blonde wisps of her silken hair had gotten caught in her
long eyelashes and Darien lifted his free hand to gently push the wayward
hairs back behind her ears. She didn't flinch like the other times he had
touched her when she was unaware and he took immense pleasure in that fact.
She simply continued to look up at him, her eyes large and unwavering,
gazing up with an intense amount of trust and wariness.
"Darien?" She finally croaked, her voice thick, partially from sleep
and somewhat from their intimate position.
The husky undertones of her voice mixed with her beguiling eyes was his
undoing. They both realized their situation at the same time. Serena was
under him, her arms raised above her head, leaving her slim body
susceptible. Darien's tall frame was stretched half next to her, half over
her. Every inch of their bodies was familiar to the other as their figures
were closely molded.
He searched her wet eyes for a second before groaning and leaning down
to catch her mouth. He surprised himself with his gentleness as his lips
brushed against her warm ones. He listened as her breath was caught in her
throat, making a gravelly, yet soft sound that was an aphrodisiac in itself.
Neither of them knew how long they remained on the thick carpet,
holding each other as if their lives depended on it, but at one point
kissing wasn't enough any more. Serena knew it too and broke away from him,
afraid of where this was leading. Darien noticed the absence of her warm
body with him and bent his head to catch her eyes. She bit her lower lip
anxiously as he smiled reassuringly at her and made a move to pull her to
him again.
She shook her head rapidly and scooted away, her back pressed painfully
against the foot of the couch. He saw her frightened face and frowned in
confusion and worry. She took the face the mean he was angry and her lip
trembled as she tried to sit up, all the while darting him nervous looks.
When his long arm reached out to pull her back down, she had to bite
down a scream. "Shh," he mollified once again, his embrace tender as he
wrapped his arms around her, drawing her into the safe cocoon of his hug. "I
just want to hold you," he explained, his warm breath stirring the hair at
her temple. Her back was against his solid chest and she sighed, letting her
body relax. Soon Darien heard the even sounds of her sleeping peacefully.
Then, and only then, did he allow himself to succumb to the restless doze
that had him thinking of and discarding different elucidations for her
obvious fright of him.
_________________________________________________________________
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