Chapter Two: Heady Wine or Warm Milk and Nightly Talks

~Pleasure is very seldom found where it is sought. Our brightest blazes are commonly kindled by unexpected sparks~

-Samuel Johnson

The knob turned and the wooden door creaked open rustically. He let the door loose, bending down in a gallant bow, a gesture more appropriately found in luxurious hotels, where men would bow and open the door. "Damsels first," he grinned roguishly and she swore that his eyes winked with devilry.

She smiled nevertheless, pushed open the door, and did what any decent person would've done with an ounce of decorating style—gaped. A similar reaction was produced form the male behind her, whose eyes were about to pop out of his sockets.

          "Oh. My. God."

Red silk curtains shone so brightly that mildly blinding would be an understatement. However, what stood out even more was the huge, abnormally sized bed that was placed smack in the middle of the room, the obvious center show. What was so frighteningly, well, hilarious were the linens. The comforter was a satiny, devilish red and the white pillows were edged with red embroidered cupids, geared with a bow and arrow. "Oh my God!" she repeated herself. Was this real?—she'd secretly pinched herself—twice!

"You can say that again," he exhaled, not sure to tear off his hair or to die laughing, especially when his eyes wandered over to the paper border. With restrained laughter, he regarded it carefully; the borders that were so brash and it took only mere seconds to register who they were picked for. Couples. It was illustrated a lot like a mathematical equation, artfully drawn by a dark red bed with a plus sign followed by two overlapping hearts, which equaled to a baby, bold italicized words over screaming "LOVE." Her eyes wandered over and he knew the acute moment when she registered the sight.

He bit back a laugh, his lips twitching, and leaning forward, he whispered suggestively, "What do you say, damsel? Like it?" And Hitomi was dangerously sure he wasn't referring to the room.

Her lips quivered at the sight before her, and her eyes were filling with tears, tears of mirth. She broke like a dam, squeals of laughter escaping her throat, the melody filling the air, weaving through him and just the sight of her laughing, had him doing that as well. "I've—" a giggle, "never," a hiccup, and a giggle, "seen such an," she clutched her stomach, "interesting work," she straightened her face, "of art."

Between laughs and smiles, "Who'd ever thought that we'd agree on something like this?"

She raised her eyebrows at him and took a careful seat at the chair that had a velvet red chair, resting her back. His eyes followed her movement, and the shadow of a smile that was still present on her face and she was the picture of—

Her viriescent  eyes widened as she looked up at him, her mouth clearly agape, her eyelashes raised, almost adorably. "How tall are you?"

Mockingly puffing his chest, he boasted, "Six feet two inches of pure male you're seeing here, Kanzaki."

The low ceiling emphasized his height and all the while she hadn't noticed how darn huge this man was! He towered over her and Hitomi was no short chicken being around five feet nine inches. In high school, it had always been awkward, she'd felt gangly, out of place, sometimes being taller than the males in her class. This man before made her feel as if she was only five feet!—a babe. Her eyes widened at another inner realization.

"Right right," he raised one dark eyebrow closing the door with the gentle guidance of his leg, "you're either planning to murder me, or having dark fantasies," he teased, "And humor me by saying it's the latter."

"Former," she turned her head away, ignoring the slight pink that washed over her face.

"Ouch," he placed his hand over his heart as if stabbed.

Suddenly, with a whirl, she stood up to him, her eyes like flashing emeralds, warning him, "Fanel—this is serious now. You keep your," she fumbled for the right words, "body to yourself, and so will I." She swept a glance across the room, "You're sleeping on the floor."

He dropped his coat floor, "I am most definitely, not!"

"Yes, you are!"

His face descended, slowly, purposefully, and she realized he was mere inches away from her, "Make me." The look in his eyes was not particularly intimidating—no-- it was for that reason that she found them dangerous. They glittered with some strange emotion, some strange laughter that glimmered with devilry. The man was not a safe person to be with. Oh God, was she being tested!? It was as if she'd been thrown to the wolves! Why couldn't her Samaritan be a decent, moralistic, church-going, good-guy? He had to be this giant of a man, snotty, cocky, unattainable, too hot for his own go—

Oh no, she was not going to finish that thought. No, no, she mentally shook her head. She was definitely not going to last if her mind got carried away, as it often did. Behind her façade of practicality, Hitomi Kanzaki, age twenty four, was a romantic at heart.

          Besides, he was sooirritating! Though his looks may seem out of romance novels, life, unfortunately was not and she'd learned it the hard way, her eyes being full of dreams when she was still in college, looking for her rescuer. She mentally smiled sardonically; yes, he could apply for the post for the cover of a romance novel but that would be only thing that was attractive about him or alike any of the males she'd read about ( the male, Drustan, from The Kiss of the Highlander being her favorite.) There were times when she thought of how pathetic it seemed as she read by the candle light in her room, the wind blowing outside, making the branches of the trees softly brush her window, creating an ambience that  was perfect; haunting, peaceful, and so romantic. Was she going to wither away, become an old aunt reading on her bed, curled up with pages of longings and dreams written by some nameless woman…her eyes constantly searching for one of the dream men in reality? Oh yes, she was on the look out for her Knight in Shining Armor.

 She snorted, and here he was, her reluctant, bad-boy Good Samaritan. When were her thoughts starting to sound paradoxical? Oh yes, since the moment she'd met him. She reminded herself, he wasn't going to magically become a knight in shining armor and rescue her from the evil dragon's clutches—yep, her mind definitely wandered. The only shining armor he possessed was the car he had been driving, she realized, biting back a smile. At least, the man had good taste; it was one of her favorite cars—a sleek, silver, Mitsubishi Gallant. An unexpected smile stole over her features; now, the word 'gallant' and the thought of Van in the same sentence seemed paradoxical.

"You will," she secretly hoped as she said it confidently.

He arched an eyebrow, "Really? So confident, sweetheart?"

"Don't call me sweetheart," she snapped as she pronounced the word in a sickening manner, getting up and going to the kitchen.

"Well, then what would be to your liking?" he asked, following her and she mildly irked by that fact, hoping that their conversation had ended after her remark. He smirked. "Sweatheart?"

She stifled a giggle, but spoke in a mock serious note as she reached for a glass. "Coming close to getting unmanned here, Fanel."

His lips curled into a smirk, "Good, I don't think I've ever done it in the kitchen."

Her lashes shot up to his face, oh yes, the arrogant man! She met his face that was smiling lazily. "How come you're so confident that I would change my mind?"

Bending down, he took the glass from her, taking her hand as well, running his thumb over the back of her hand in a circular motion that shot a dose of warmth  causing her to snatch it back; he only grinned. "Because of that, sweet."

However, Hitomi wasn't fazed. "I didn't want to be touched by you…or any man." Standing up straight and tall, she imprisoned his auburn eyes, "I am immune to you."

He laughed, "So there is something about me that you have to be immune to?"

She turned her back to him, "Well, I suppose there's a certain charm that some people might find attractive," his eyes widened slowly, was she complimenting him?, "like your sick sense of humor, but I am not one those feather-brained women you've bed."

He shoved a hand through his hair. Not in this lifetime. Why had he disillusioned himself?

"Oh how very nice of you. Thank-you. Must add that to my diary of compliments; unique, you are, Kanzaki."

She retorted with a smile, "No, no, I don't think I ever want to be even remembered by you," she pretended a shudder, "you'd probably haunt my dreams, give me nightmares."

"Aw…" he flashed his teeth, "do you know how flattering you are?"

"I know…I am much too kind."

He shook his disgustedly, "Women." Surveying his settings, the kitchen having a horrifying light pink wall paper with borders of white that had purple and pink hearts, he gave a snort. "What kind of room is this anyway?"

"If I am not wrong, it looks like we've got a bridal suite."

He nearly choked. "You're kidding!"

Her body shook with laughter and grabbing her shoulders, he turned her around…meeting the most magical sight.

She looked like a young school girl, her eyes twinkling in a way even emeralds couldn't, her soft hair falling to the sides, her curvy lips stretched…

He blinked twice, and she stopped in an abrupt giggle when his fingertip touched the corner of her lips. His face looked so serious, his dark falling in a casual disarray that could look good only on him.

"Wh--?" she asked, her voice lowering to a whisper, and later she thought of why she even did that. For some unknown reason, the moment couldn't be spoiled with her talking in a higher note.

He gave her a smile unlike any of his and it was so damn attractive that her breath actually caught. Yes, this was the real Van she was witnessing; this was his real smile. "No, you just look happy."

Her eyes widened at his innocent comment, one that she hadn't expected, but a moment later she became the woman who was viewed as having her two feet on the ground…when all she wanted was to fly. Biting her lip, not trusting if a sarcastic comment would find its way out, she slowly, gently pushed his hands away. "Your hands…"

"Oh sorry," he said in an unapologetic manner. "I guess I'll jump into a shower, then…before you hog it." He smirked. "My sister used to do that; I'd get late for school just for that reason for countless times."

"Yeah, you do that." She admitted to herself; yes, she liked long showers and she needed one especially today. Plus, she needed a few moments alone, without the hovering company of this giant of a man. She snorted, a giant bed for a giant man which his body won't have the pleasure of touching, not if I can help it! Yet, the thought of him as a young student brought a smile to her face. Oh she'd bet he'd been the heartthrob of the school. Feh, unlike her. Quite, quite unlike her. She looked back; he had gone and the closing of the door indicated it. However, the string of curses that were moments later shouted, it was confirmed.

Going to the door, she asked, "What's wrong?"

"This bathroom has…purple carpets, and these pink towels!" he spoke in utter disgust.

She covered her mouth, her laughing mouth and went back to the kitchen. "You'll survive."

She was surprised to see that at the corner was her suitcase and his bag that was considerably lighter looking. Ha!, that's one thing most men have in common. Light bags. Her younger brother Mamoru, a complete charmer, was the same. He'd always complained about the things she'd take with her whenever she'd gone to an overnight party...or a field trip that involved staying in a hotel. For some reason, she always wanted to feel home, some part of home and thus she carried all the frames of pictures, but this time she'd only chosen two; one of the whole family—her mother, father, younger brother and herself, the other with her waving into the camera with her betrothed—nay, a friend. He was a friend...so far.

Hitomi Kanzaki, if she had an ounce of sense would've accepted his offer that he'd so romantically proposed. A dinner in fancy restaurant, chandeliers glittering at ever corner, candle light, light background music—the whole works. And he'd bought her this enormous looking diamond ring that would have women fawning. And yet, Hitomi Kanzaki, one of the most romantic of hearts, was thinking of how she'd have liked it if he'd bent down on his knees. There was nothing more attractive than a man on his knees. She shook her head sadly; in her place, many women would die and feel lucky.

And that was the point; the whole dilemma.

She didn't want to feel lucky, like he was a gift of humanity with his very existence; like he was some unattainable man who she could never look in the eye with equality. But he was. That's why she wanted to think this over. A shudder ran down her spine as she remembered his face when she'd faltered, speechless, which he'd taken as a sign of acceptance and when he'd kissed her cheek, running his hand down her bare arms, she'd put a stop to that. She'd told him clear enough, but he was Allen, and Allen did not accept no as an answer. And so, here she was. He'd forced her to go and think over it and decided what was best was a change of scenery, some fresh air. Secretly, she'd even hoped that he'd come with her. But, no, work was more important; meetings were more important and societal functions were most essential.

She sighed as she opened her bag, taking out pale green pajamas. It wasn't as if she had asked him to come with her for days, just one day. That's all she wanted; she wanted to feel his love. He always told her that he was a different kind of man, he displayed his love in a manner that was not like the others and that kissing publicly and affectionately was not a thing he liked to do. Not that she wanted him to kiss her publicly; she was still a bit shy with that, but the romantic in her craved handholding, soft smiles and burning gazes. None of those he fulfilled.

Sometimes, she even wondered why he wanted to marry her. Allen was just five years older than her, twenty nine, and yet he distinctly reminded her of her father sometimes...and even her father wasn't that bad. Allen had made it his personal goal to pull a My Fair Lady on her, always correcting her every movement and there were times when she wanted to stomp her feet like a little five year old and yell at him till she was hoarse. Just the thought of it gave her an almost euphoric feeling. But the sight of him could throw water on all the fire she possessed though there were moments when a kindle was lit though as always, it had disastrous effects and they'd ended up bickering and arguing. Mind you, not the kind of bickering that was considered cute with couples.

          ...don't be so open; men will take advantage of that.

...don't wear men's wear; jeans are for men, skirts are much more feminine, more appealing to the senses.

...smile a little more demurely, my pet.

She grit her teeth. She absolutely hated that word! Pet. Pet, indeed, like she was some lost puppy that needed his guidance! She could even bear to be called sweetheart from Van and compared to pet, Van's was a gentle caress.

But then her eyes softened ever so slightly. Maybe I'm expecting too much of him. Gyah, it's probably unhealthy for you to read romance novels in which guys are just so wonderful. What's a girl to do when this reality is absolutely filled with people like him? Yet, she feared, if she said no to him, she'd probably never marry. You can grow old with your books; too bad that the characters will remain as hot as ever and you'll be all wrinkly and wilting away like some flower.

Placing it carelessly on the bed, she started removing all her clothes and placing them in hangers, in drawers... How she wanted to just collapse on the bed and sleep the day off! The bad that had looked almost monstrous looked like something from heaven now.

~*~*~

Opening the refrigerator, she reached for the container of milk, but her eyes wandered over the rest of the contents in the fridge and a slow, steady, crimson mat of color painted her features. Stocked innocently was Hershey's Chocolate Syrup, straw-berries, whipping cream— And she tried to tell herself that it was just in her head, that the old man had nothing to do with things that err, made her think of other things. She could only imagine the mortification of Allen if he'd heard her wandering thoughts; if he was dead, he'd turn in his grave. Dark fantasies, indeed.

She shut the door, also shutting her thoughts close. Pouring milk into the kettle, she waited as it heated up slowly. The moments passed, and she found herself tapping the floor, rubbing her arms.

...had a sudden chill suddenly come over?

The kitchen was relatively weakly lit as she poured the milk into a mug. Tasting it, she realized, she needed sugar. Sugar, sugar... She looked in the cupboards, only dimly aware that a door had opened.

Finally, her eyes spied a box of what looked like Equal sugar. Aha! Gotcha! She reached for the box, on her tippy toes, wondering why in God's name someone would put it on the highest shelf. Nudging it, it was only moments when the box fell, and unfortunately the contents did as well. A helpless, reflexive squeal erupted from her throat. Unfortunately, that brought about a certain worried male, ready to defend her—

"What happened? Are you alright?" she was on the floor, her eyes widening in pure horror at the sight of what was surrounding her.

"Y-yes." Her fingers were trembling as she delicately reached for the packages that were pink in color and the mortification on her face couldn't be captured by any artist. The slip of pink, had in fancy writing which was in purple the words, Pretty in Pink.

And they were not packages of sugar.

They were condoms. Everywhere. That had to go on the top lists for the most embarrassing moments in her entire life.

She was speechless as he reached out for a package and when he read the label, a slow smile started curling on his lips and then his shoulders shook. She watched the transformations on his face, the sparkling wine colored eyes that were shining like two jewels with tears of mirth.

He collapsed on the floor and a throaty, deep laugh erupted from his like hot spurts of a volcano. "Oh God, Hitomi..."

She couldn't help it as they gathered all the packets together, shoving it in the box. She'd never laughed even a tenth of as much as she's laughed with him in just one day. Allen would have probably shaken his head and told her to be more graceful and not rush over things. The mere thought of Allen had a sobering effect on her.

"I think this is the stuff that I can blackmail you with."

"That's what I was afraid," she retorted dryly. "But I am sure the women will be shocked at you putting away, uh, these things with me."

He shook his head and admitted, "Must say, you always get me in the most unique of positions."

She quirked a smile, "Thank-you." He reached for her head and she immediately pulled back, causing a condom to fall off. "Oh uh..."

He only grinned. "Want to put any to use?"

That comment, however resulted in her whacking him with one packet square on the cheek. Needless to say, the answer needed no words.

That was also when she noticed, his chest was bare. Her mouth went dry at the sight of him. His muscles were lean, in excellent shape, and he was broad, but not too broad that it was almost gross. Perfect. Just how a man should be; his smooth skin was the color of caramel chocolate that she liked so much, his nipples dark. She blushed, oh yes, definitely a place you should not be looking. But the harm was already done and she couldn't help but notice his fine abdomen that was firm and waving gently, his waist tapering off into narrow hips. She wondered, with some mild interest, what Allen looked like. Was he as fine as him?

Too late, she realized, she had been staring quite blatantly. "Had a good look?" He arched an eyebrow.

She wrinkled her nose; oh God!, two embarrassing moments in a row! That had to be a record! However, she stiffened, adopting a prim note, "Maybe you're used to walking or sleeping about half-naked, but I won't have any of that. I am not—"

"Fully naked, you mean."

"...huh?"

He couldn't help but notice how cute she looked when she was confused or when he interrupted her in one of her conversations, "I am used to sleeping naked," his eyes danced at the sight of her parted lips, "even when I sleep alone, sweetheart."

Stop, 'Tomi! You're not even going there...no, no, no!! She wouldn't even think of him naked! She would've hugged him if she could when he changed the topic, however, "Are you cold?" He'd seen her shudder and rub her arms.

She smiled weakly, "Yes, a bit." Raising her eyebrows, she added with some faint traces of amusement. "And you're not?"

He gave a small laugh, "You know what they say..." he looked at her suggestively.

"What?"

"The best way to fight off the cold is to jump under the covers naked. Nothing like body heat." She reddened, and did what her instinct dictated; she shoved him and jumped up, leaving the kitchen.

Turning around, looking at his boyish, laughing face, she hmphed, "I'd rather bury myself in six feet of snow!"

He shook his head, amusement still not departing, "I'm not that bad, sweetheart."

"Stop calling me that!"

"Grumpy?"

"No!"

"Oh, how about," he was thoughtful for a moment, but his eyes were swimming in laughter, "uh, Spinster?"

"No!"

"Then, I think sweetheart would just do." He leaned across the cabinets, his hands going behind his back, his eyes ever-watching. It was moments like these when she felt terribly self-conscious.

She shook her head, like giving up with a child who couldn't reason. "While you decide what to call me, I'll go and have a hot shower."

"I wouldn't mind showering again," he laughed at her expression.

"Why, you—"

"Hey, lady, you're the one who took it in the wrong way!!!" He slithered away as a shoe just grazed his thigh.

As she closed the door to the bathroom, a careless smile was on her face.

...when had she smiled for no reason with Allen? Never. Unexplainable laughter or smiles irritated Allen.

*~*~*

Sighing contently, she dried the last portions of her hair with the blow dryer. Deftly, she combed all of her hair back, brushed her teeth and took hold of her dirty laundry.

She stepped out of the bathroom, instantly hit with a wave of cool temperatures. She shivered as she padded on the carpet, the room unnaturally quiet. She'd always liked noise, the bustle, but Allen had always desired more of a quiet life, a secluded life with just the two of them. Had he ever asked what she'd wanted? No, she shrugged; I suppose he assumed I didn't mind. But, heck yes! She minded! She liked family, close family members, a huge family--the whole works! Coming from a family of just four, and having only one aunt, both sets of grandparents dying before her birth, she craved a home. A home of her own that only Allen was offering.

She shoved her laundry in a paper bag and placed it in the corner and when she strode towards the bed, she gaped.

He was in the bed. God bless her, but she was staring! He looked every inch the male he'd proclaimed of being, his golden skin contrasting almost wonderfully with the red of the comforter, his hair dark and mysterious and his eyelashes looking almost childish as they rested upon his cheeks. He was asleep.

She cursed herself, so in awe, as she moved closer to him, halting only when she hovered over him. She couldn't explain why she was so drawn to him, why she found herself bending down---

"BOOOOOOO!!!!!" He raised his head, immediately bumping into her nose, and she pulled back.

"What the hell was that for?!" she clutched her nose that was painfully red, most likely.

His eyes widened and he asked curiously, "Were you going to do a Snow White scene...except opposite; the woman kisses the man."

Her eyes also grew to realize what it may have implied but she quickly covered it, "Don't flatter yourself, Fanel. I was wondering if I could pull you out of bed with your hair."

"Violent you are, Kanzaki."

"Very," she said irritably. "Anyway, move over to the floor. I am not sharing a bed with you."

He parted the covers and moved a little to the side, "Who said I am moving?"

"Fanel, I am serious! It's eight o' clock, and I am dead tired. Too tired to fight you. We'll continue this in the morning."

He smiled lazily, "Didn't your mother ever teach you to share? Not be selfish?"

She laughed humorlessly, "She'd kill me if she knew what position I was in right now!"

He shrugged, "Your choice."

He wrapped her arms around herself. This man was driving her insane! "Fine," she mouthed. "But you change into a shirt." For some reason, she thought it was very, very unsafe to have him shirtless.

He raised a sardonic eyebrow, "What's wrong with me like this? You're going to be on the other side of the bed, then no problems."

She sputtered, her face turning a pale shade of pink, "Just change, will you! It's a compromise!"

Grinning in that irritating manner, he jumped up and left to grab a shirt. "As you say, my damsel."

She inhaled deeply, trying to calm her galloping heartbeat. Talking to him was like a work-out, as if she running, all the adrenaline pumping into her veins.

Shaking her head, she went on the other side of the bed and slipped under the covers, making sure her shirt was buttoned properly and her body was covered.

He switched off the light as she pretended to sleep and he quietly got under the covers beside her. The instant he hit the bed, she felt his radiating warmth. In a soft, husky voice, he spoke, "I know you're not asleep yet, my damsel."

She opened one eye, "How very perceptive of you."

She knew he was grinning in the dark, "Why thank-you. My mother always said the same."

Her back faced her and he was mildly irritated by the fact; he liked to see the person face to face when he talked. But this was Hitomi and Hitomi was not just any woman; she was a class of her own. The woman was an interesting mixture, of what he wasn't quite sure. She was like heady wine…or warm milk? He wasn't quite sure, but he hoped it was the latter. Right now, the last thing he wanted to do was get involved with her, no matter how interesting she seemed, how fresh she seemed.

But he had to admit; it was quickly becoming almost a passionate hobby to tease her. She was just so…teaseable!

He saw her rub her arms as she tried to go deeper into the warmth of the bed and covers. He inched closer to her ever so slowly, until his hot breath could be felt on her neck. However, Hitomi wasn't quite sure how far he was and when she turned to face him and tell him to back off, her body bumped into his.

There was silence as their breaths mingled and each stared at the other. Softly she spoke, as if afraid to break some sacred pact, "Don't come so close."

Deliberately, he did the opposite, closing the distance between her, his eyes never leaving hers, "You're cold. It'll only help."

Slowly, like an awkward boy, he weaved his arm around her waist, pulling her closer. She didn't resist though a distant part of her mind yelled at her, cursed her weakness. Her pliant body collided with his and he pressed it oh so gently, like one would tenderly embrace a baby. "Warm?" he whispered in her ear, arousing an involuntary shudder

She only nodded. They stayed in that position for a few moments, she being very much deeply aware of his presence and finding a kind of solace she hadn't expected to find any person's arms.

…was she betraying Allen?

An unexpected smile curved her lips, "Am I squeezing the breath out of you?"

Hell yes! Not squeezing but he found himself breathing shallowly, "No." Just the slight pressure of her on his body was making him feel hot, his body betraying him every second he felt her soft curves.

"Funny, Allen always said that I squeezed the breath out of him."

"Allen?" he prodded, his brows knitting.

"Yes," she admitted, "He wants me to marry him."

 "And…?"

"I don't." There! She had said it! She'd admitted it!

"Why?" he didn't realize his hold tightening on her waist.

She lifted her shoulders in a shrug, "Just things…he always watches over me like some father-figure." She wrinkled her nose, imitating his voice, "Hitomi, Cinnamon and Apple crepes are bad for you; they have too much fat and you don't need that. Or, that dress is too unflattering! Don't act so childish!"

He snorted; fat? That man sure knew how to speak to ladies. "You like Cinnamon and Apple crepes?"

She admitted sheepishly, "A weakness."

There was laughter in his voice as he whispered, "We can be weak together, sweetheart. I love those myself."

"Good taste, Van."

"I know," he boasted.

She snorted, "Too bad the crepes don't show on you."

"Oh and do they show on you?"

"Of-course!!" she spoke as if almost outraged. "Have you seen me?"

"If that's what the crepes do…then more women will be trying them out."

Her eyes widened and she accidentally touched his hips, "What do you mean?"

"What do I mean?" he asked disbelievingly.

Her voice came out slow and cool, "Don't lie to me; do anything but lie. Allen used to take me to work out whenever we ate in a restaurant; a bit hurtful for my ego but I accepted that."

What?! The man actually dared to do that! The sound of her voice was sincere and he had a horrible feeling that she was telling the truth. "So, sweetheart, you think you're," he choked on the following word, "fat?" Was this a female epidemic?

She blushed, wonderful things you talk about Hitomi. "Allen always well…he always wanted me to drop a few sizes."

"What size are you?!"

The answer came out so fast, so unexpected because she knew if she was a bit sane, she would never have told him her size. "Eight."

There was silence and the only thing that was audible was their breaths.

"You're beautiful."

"What?" she whispered explosively. "Don't lie to me."

"Alright," he gulped. She could almost hear it in her mind, him formulating an answer that was more appropriate, You're a very healthy young woman—

"You're very, very beautiful."

She gasped inaudibly. Allen had never called her beautiful…

And she was…in his eyes. There was a gentle kind of fire in her that he rarely found, that gamin grin that made his heart skip a beat every time, a sizzling attraction that he couldn't explain. And never had he found a woman more enchanting, more plucky…more her. He couldn't explain the vortex of feelings swirling in his mind. She was so very real, so womanly! He had previously slept, dated, with women who were of an extremely petite size and not until he'd seen her, he realized that this was the type of woman his mother would approve of; this was the type of woman he needed but did not want in his life. Hell, he wanted to just bend down and kiss her especially when she looked so damn adorable in the kitchen today, he wanted her. And that was why he couldn't hurt her. She was a woman you married, kept at your side, had a dozen children with. Not a one-night stand. Definitely not.

She was very quiet but the response he received from her had him shuddering and his heartbeat thundering, ready to burst out of his ribcage. Hesitantly, her hands ran over his body, and he was sure she didn't realize the kind of things she evoked in him, the kind of thoughts she evoked for she wouldn't be doing this. Her arm curved around his waist, the flatness of her hand pressing across his back.

"Good night, Van."

If he couldn't kiss her, he could at least steal a caress that would hopefully go unnoticed by her. He bent his head down and lightly brushed his lips over the top of her head, noticing how enticingly silky her hair was… What would it feel like, running his fingers across that mass of hair…her hair all over his body…her lips--

Something he shouldn't be thinking about, he reminded himself severely. Besides, she wasn't his type of woman… No, no, definitely not!

But the reminder of saucy Hitomi didn't leave him when she spoke, "Don't try anything funny."

He grinned, resuming his light hearted aura, "I like my women willing, sweetheart. Besides, too afraid of your Allen guy," he teased.

She snorted. "Yeah, you should be. He'll remind you of your father."

Unexpectedly, he brought her even closer, and a squeal erupted from her lips when he hugged her tightly. When she opened her mouth to protest, he spoke interrupting her, "I think I am feeling very, very cold." His eyes were glinting, "And since you don't want to get naked with me, I think this is the best I can do."

She harrumphed, "Fanel, no wandering hands!"

He laughed, "Go to sleep, sweetheart." Brushing her hair with his lips again, he spoke softly, almost tenderly, "Sleep with the angels." His grip tightened and he inhaled her sweet scent. Beautiful indeed…

~Let your arms enfold us

Through the dark of night

Will your angels hold us

Till we see the light~

--"Prayer," Secret Garden

A/N: Ooookkaaay, you guys. Writing this took bloody long, but I have to admit, it was sooo much fun!! I am totally, helplessly, in love with him..and XD, if you think he's a pervert…well, he's not exactly. ^_^;; It's more of a he likes to tease her that way because she just seems so prim and he always gets a reaction from her. Haha! Now that you've read about 14 pages of writing Verdana 10pt it would be shaaaame if you didn't review it. ^____________^;; And it would be a shaaame if you didn't review to say you liked it or not.. ^_~ Or if you want something changed, something to be different…give your opinion folks, this took a looot of thought. :D Also, *hugs both teddies madly* special thanks to Ryuu Angel for letting me use the lyrics to Prayer…XD. ^_______________________^ What else can I say? Och, I have a test waiting to be studied for…and I am in denial that I didn't do well in the math test…*thinks* Oh yes, READ "Kiss of the Highlander" by Karen Marie Moning…OMG!!! Never, in my ENTIRE life have I read such a bloody, funny book!! And *drools* Drustan is mineee!! *snatches him away* Yeah, some jokes are inside jokes, sowwwy, but I did say it was a personalized story. ^_~ Oh yes, the bed room was inspired by "Perfect" hehehehe, but descriptions of it were different in that book…it had purple comforters and this heart thing. You'll see…read that book too!!!

Umm…I think that about sums it up. Now, must go and read "Lord of the Flies." Bloody English test tomorrow. Big hug to all the reviewers!! Thank-you!!!!!!!!! R&R!!! Long reviews/rants welcome…^_~