Disclaimer: I don't own X-Men evolution.
Prologue.
District Attorney Jillian Carter had always prided herself at being reasonable and rational at all times, opting for scientific answers rather than emotional or physical ones. And at every turn she had found the answer, but this one problem, namely her relationship with Hollywood's most eligible bachelor and worldwide heartthrob, Remy Lebeau, had yielded no scientific answers.
Remy Lebeau was pure Sin with a capital S.
It wasn't just what he looked like; exotic smouldering red on black eyes fringed by ridiculously long sooty lashes, chiselled features with cheekbones that supermodels would envy, thick silky golden chestnut hair, perpetually caught up in a loose ponytail at the back of his head, or his tall lanky body, like velvety gold poured over smooth supple steel.
It didn't even have to do with the way he spoke; his unique French accent like smooth dark decadent chocolate dripping with thick honey. With the arrogant, self-assured way he walked. The man carried himself with grace and regality that she had never come across before. His playful, devil-may-care attitude was at odds with the grace and regality that he carried himself.
It was what he did to her both inside and out.
He would flash that lazy, devilish smile that promised a woman paradise and delivered. One hundred percent satisfaction guaranteed. He was pure unadulterated sin. He might have looked like a daemon and walked like a daemon, but in bed he was a thorough breed animal. When he touched her, she came apart at the seams. She waited breathlessly each time for the sense of perfection she always felt around him to abate after all these months she'd known him.
Instead, each time she saw him, she was filled with the ridiculous notion of learning more about the man that was still largely a mystery to her. Even after knowing him for four months, all of which they had been sleeping together, she still knew next to nothing about him except for what she'd heard over the years from the media. That is, he was the most paid actor in Hollywood, all his movies becoming box office hits and winnings awards. He was from an old money family, his father being an oil tycoon, his mother a computer mogul. Both his parents coming from well-off aristocratic French families. The media had nicknamed him Le Diable Blanc- the white devil. Apart from that, she knew nothing else. His private life was off limits to her and all the other women he had dated over the years.
As she entered the lobby of Remy's apartment building, she nodded curtly to the two security guards stationed, and headed for the bank of elevators. Minutes later, she was ringing his penthouse's doorbell. No one answered. The guards would have told her if he was not home. She thought to herself, then nearly smacked herself over the head with the little Gucci purse she held in her arms. Remy was a known womanizer and their relationship that required any of them being faithful with each other. He was probably in bed right now with another woman, probably a model.
He seemed to have a penchant for models.
Angry hurtful words she could say to him when he opened the door buzzed around in her brain. Her pale blue eyes narrowed in anger and she pivoted on her heels about to leave.
It was then that the door opened and there stood Remy. He wore only a plush cotton bathrobe, tied loosely around slim hips. The V of the robe was slightly open, displaying olive tanned skin that just begged to be kissed. His hair was down for once, curling wet around his shoulders. His long muscled legs, with dusting of brown hair shimmered with drops of water that he had not yet dried off.
At the sight of him, her mouth went dry. All thoughts fleeing from her brain. A slow heat unfolded. She licked parched lips, hungry eyes devouring him from head to toe. "Can I come in," she purred.
All Remy did was step aside, gesturing for her to enter.
That was when the telephone rang.