Chapter 6 -

"Reservation is for seven-thirty," Sark yelled from just outside the bathroom door. Sydney checked her watch, noting she had fifteen minutes, ample time to finish. Making one last adjustment on her hairpiece, she admired the perfect waves that gently caressed her face when she moved. Her look was complete, after applying her deep red lipgloss, and just a touch of Coco Chanel perfume. Stepping back, she moved far enough to check the stretch of her body in the full-length mirror.

On a normal day, her external beauty was subdued, hidden behind her black suits and other agent attire. Even if she was going out with her friends, it was normally semi casual. The transformation she saw before her almost made her giddy with pride. She knew it would accentuate the natural curves of her body when she spied it in the boutique window downstairs. Red, one of her best colors, with medium sized white flowers scattered throughout. One-inch straps that sat perfectly on the edge of her shoulder, and then dove down into a deep V, the end point lying just below her cleavage. Probably her favorite feature of the dress was the knee high slit, breaking the streamline skirt that circled around her ankles. Finished, she slipped on her strappy red sandals and prepared to exit.

When she opened the door, she found Sark sitting on the bed, taking no notice of her presence, only tying his shoes. Even his dress a strategy, he was wearing a dark taupe casual suit with a normal white button up shirt, the perfect companion to her red. His look very similar to last night except, as he stood to face her, his tie was no longer there – just a hint of skin revealed, due to the top two unfastened buttons.

Here it came again, that feeling of being choked or losing all her air supply. On cue, the quickened heartbeat, waves of energy that ran up and down her body and the lump that gathered in her throat, all made themselves known. The only side effect missing was the redness that covered her face. It didn't come, thank God. Instead she watched it flash across Sark's face. In their most telling moment to date, they stood in silence, seeming like minutes, but in reality it was only about thirty seconds.

Finally he broke the silence, with a low tone, and no hint of cracking in his voice. "I assume you're ready." He didn't take his eyes off her as he spoke.

His stare piercing, she broke their contact by shifting her eyes to the door. "It's seven thirty, we better go."

"American," he whispered to his friend in Spanish, as they ride down the elevator. Sydney stared ahead at the two neatly dressed strangers, both stout Latin men who reeked of cheap cologne. It was humorous when people assumed just because a person was American, they only understood or spoke English.

"She sort of looks Russian," the second man added in his native tongue.

Sydney watched the floors descend, hoping they reached the main floor soon. "If she's lucky, she'll have some Latin in her later," the first man joked, causing both of them to laugh obnoxiously. All she could do was resist the urge to laugh. After all, that line was the most overused in the world of perversion. Thankfully, they finally reached the lobby. Just as the door opened the first man added, "I wonder if that guy realizes how hot his woman is."

Sydney heard Sark chuckle, his first sign of speech since the two men joined them on their way down. He came up with a quick reply in Spanish, before the men exited. "Believe me he's fully aware of how attractive she is, that's partially why he married her."

Their faces were almost white, combining fear and embarrassment. The two men hurriedly exited the elevator, and practically tore through the lobby. With a strong appearance of gratitude, a silent thank you, Sydney smiled at Sark while placing her hand around his upper arm.

As they're led to their reserved table, Sydney watched the handful of couples dancing to the same band present the previous night. She remembered the high comfort she felt in Sark's arms, leaning her body against his muscular chest. It had, after all, been over a year and a half since she had been in a romantic situation with any man, false or not. Everyone needed to feel the touch of another at least periodically, if not the coldness would begin to muster and eventually ice over. Life like that she never wanted to experience, she had seen the effects of it in her father.

"Claudette," she felt the softness of a hand touch her arm. Upon looking down, she saw Consuela Espinoza sitting next to her husband. Immediately she stopped, tugging on Sark's arm as he kept walking. She continued, "Honey, this is the couple we saw at the jeweler, Claudette and…" she looked at Sark, "I'm sorry I didn't catch your first name."

"Julian," he replied, meeting eyes with Marcus in a warm manner.

"Great," Consuela exclaimed. "You must join us tonight, I insist," given the perfect opportunity, the Binoche's sat next to each other, opposite the Espinoza's.

Truth be told, in her normal life as Sydney, she hadn't had such a good time in quite a while. The charming couple they had the pleasure of dining with were as warm as they were vivacious. Also to her surprise, was the ability Sark had to meld into a situation, how he could mix lies and truth, making them sound near fantasy.

The words still lingered in her mind. "I met Claudette while on a business trip in the states, at a restaurant similar to this in fact. My hum drum day was washed away, as the piano man started his tune and this lovely creature crooned on the stage." Sydney remembered watching how expressive he became telling the story, it was difficult to tell the truth from the lie. "I know it sounds like bull shit, but I felt she was singing just for me. My co-workers called me on it. Until, with immaculate timing I might add, she walked straight to me pausing long enough to run her hand along my cheek. I tell you mate, I was completely gone after that."

Now she sat, his arm wrapped around her casually, yet every now and again his thumb softly would run over her shoulder, the softest caress. Sydney finished the last of her Merlot, her sixth glass, sending her closer to a drunken state.

Sark must have taken notice, for he leaned in and kissed her lightly on the side of her head. "You okay, love?" His concern was evident.

Close, but not yet to a slurred speech, Sydney responded with just, "Mm hmm, just a bit tired."

Recognizing the warning signs, Sark excused them from the table. "Looks like it's time for us to retire. We've had a wonderful time tonight."

He stood, as did Marcus who extended his hand. "If you two don't have other plans, we'd love for you to join us on the boat tomorrow."

Assisting Sydney to stand, Sark replied to him, "Nothing pressing - a day on the water would be wonderful.

"Great, we're checking out in the morning, but I will leave directions with the front desk," Marcus took his seat again.

Although she should have been drunk, Sydney found no problem in standing or speaking, "Sounds good, thank you again for the nice time." She allowed Sark to assist her by placing his arm around her waist.

By the time they reached the room, Sydney's intoxication had escalated. Giggling uncontrollably, she waited for Sark to retrieve the room card from his pocket. In between her giggles, Sydney spoke, "I can't believe that guy wanted to put some Latin in me." Unable to keep quiet, Sark began to laugh also, so she continued, "You were great, answering their derogatory comments in Spanish. The look on their faces." Still laughing she followed him as he walked inside.

"They looked a bit ghostly," Sark admitted.

Sydney crashed on the couch, kicking off her heels. "Between you and me, tonight was one of the best nights I've spent out in some time." Sark showed insecurity about her candid statement. "Pretty sad considering it's all a fucked up façade."

She watched as Sark removed his jacket, placing it over the other side of the couch. Trying to dissect his feelings, much like he did to her so regularly, she watched his expression, searching for anything familiar to latch to.

"It's late," Sark started, his face washed of any hint of emotion. "We should get some sleep."

Her drunken hopes were shot down by his straight face. She momentarily paused before standing to leave the room. Just as she reached the door, Sark spoke, stopping her. "Sydney, I know starting this op was difficult for you, given our business history. I wanted to say that I appreciate the fact you've chosen to temporarily look past that, and treat me with the good nature you have the past two days."

Since she was not facing him, she allowed a smile to break at another sign of Sark's humanity. Without speaking, she entered the room and closed the door, heading to prepare for sleep.