Chapter 4 -

No redness, no sign of swelling, just this burning fire causing an odd pulsation. Checking for any sign of irritation Sydney ran her fingers lightly over her lips, watching the motion in their bathroom mirror. One kiss, the culprit behind her now twenty-minute stay behind the closed door.

Truly she was a bit embarrassed, her actions after dancing with Sark were quite revealing. Three times he asked her if she was okay on the way back to their quarters, the same amount of times she answered yes of course, but still couldn't bring herself to make eye contact. And now with her thoughts consumed by him, it was maddening. Why did she give a shit what he thought, she was sent here to complete an assignment, no more, no less - but there was more, deep down there was so much more brewing than she was ready to acknowledge.

After placing her moisturizer back in her bag, she conjured up the courage to face him. With her knee length black bathrobe covering up the same colored brief and tank set, Sydney emerged to find the bedroom empty. Relieved but curious, she twisted her hair up in a quick bun and walked toward the dimly lit front room. At first sight, she found herself embarrassed, almost enough to turn around.

"I apologize, I thought you had retired," he spoke, with no fluctuation in his voice. "I just finished checking the room access system and The Espinoza's were in thirty minutes ago," he added.

Too late to turn back now, she stayed. Even in the low light, she saw the definition of muscle in his bare back, slightly twitching with each stroke of his laptop keyboard. Slowly she approached at an angle that allowed her to view his profile.

"Sounds like everything is working fine," Sydney finally spoke her first words.

Sark grunted in agreement, his fingers still speeding around the keyboard. After a few moments he questioned, "Did you need to talk about it?"

"Talk about what," she asked, even though she had an idea of what he was referencing.

He stopped typing, but kept his eyes on the screen, "What happened downstairs. You've been acting strange since dinner. Is it bothering you that much?"

Growing uncomfortable with the direction this was going in, Sydney answered with a simple, "No," hoping it ended the conversation.

Sydney watched as he looked at her with just a hint of anger flashing in his eyes, "The idea of kissing me I assume is horrific, you have no choice but to get used to it. There's no way we'll become friendly with them if we don't act like we have the same sort of relations."

"I said, it's not a problem for me," Sydney displayed her frustration. "I'm fine with it. Just… maybe you could give me some sort of warning next time."

Sark showed his amusement by letting go a small chuckle. "Would you prefer a secret password or use of sign language Sydney." Before she could reply, Sark continued, "You don't need to say it, I know a good 'fuck off' or 'fuck you' is in order."

He shut his laptop then stood, causing Sydney to instinctively take a step back as he moved past her. She could see now that he was dressed in only his trousers, which were slightly sagging due to his unfastened belt. When she heard the bathroom door close, she exhaled, releasing her frustration.

He was not Mr. Binoche, his display was a reminder of that fact. Someone like Sark probably couldn't fathom feelings of such deep love and devotion for a woman. Exhausted from the long day, Sydney curled up on the couch, closing her eyes until Sark finished in the bedroom.

Surrounded by blackness, the drawn curtains did their best at preventing even the light of moon from entering. Sydney felt the soft velvet blanket against her back. Earlier when she first entered the room, she knew it would feel heavenly and it did. The entire bed was of utmost comfort.

Fully aware of his presence, she smiled at the feel of his hand sliding up her leg, teasing as he halted just inside her upper thigh. She could faintly smell the musk of his cologne, after such a long day it was surprising to see that it had lasted so long. He momentarily fumbled with the tie on her robe, but slid his hand under her tank, and over her exposed stomach once it was freed.

"You are so lovely," he spoke, his voice a bit throaty. "I could stay here forever."

Closer his face came, and she could feel the tickle of his breath against her neck and waited for his lips. Instead she felt his hand slide up to her covered breast, softly cupping it, "You've captured my soul," he breathed as he gently massaged her. She felt his other hand move to her stomach, jabbing the hard metal of his gun near her rib cage, before cocking it, "And I can't let you keep it."

Sydney gasped, immediately sitting upright. "Fuck," was all that escaped, as she looked around the lavish bedroom she now remembered checking into. Her hand immediately dropped to her stomach, finding her robe was indeed untied. Probably from restless sleep, she reasoned. Giving herself a chance to calm down, she walked to the window and pulled back the curtain, exposing the morning light.

"Good morning, Sydney," giving her a good startle, Sark walked out of the bathroom wearing a pair of tan khaki pants with a water blue button down shirt. After she was already facing him, she remembered the untied robe and fumbled to recover her body. She noticed the corner of his mouth turned up a bit, humored by her behavior. "Marcus made a call to a local jeweler this morning and plans to stop by with Consuela around noon."  He walked to the door, "I figure it would be best to be there before."

"Of course," Sydney replied, showing her confusion on how she ended up in the bedroom, and not on the couch like she remembered. She glanced at the bed, and noticed only her side had been touched, so she did sleep alone.

"You fell asleep, I carried you in here," Sark answered her unasked question, walking to the door. "And yes I slept on the couch," Sark left her and her anger grew at his gift of reading her so well.