Chloe placed the receiver back on the hook and looked up at the figure standing across the room. He had his back to her as he studied the rows of books displayed on deep mahogany shelving.

"That's an impressive collection," she said as she moved toward him. Lex turned to face her as she scanned the shelves. "The Illiad, Paradise Lost, Historia Calamitatum… No Nancy Drew for you."

He smiled coyly.

"I'm trying to improve myself."

"I didn't realise there was anything wanting."

Their gazes locked, smiling and easy. Hard to believe that just two hours ago he had found her by the roadside, tearstained and distraught.

After her initial admission, when she'd told him and cried for about a half hour while he held her, something inside Chloe had changed. She had stopped crying for a start - 'pulled herself together', as it were. Lex knew that it was coping mechanism, that she wasn't really to move on, but that her mind had to pretend like it was so she could function, that the magnitude of the whole thing was too much, overwhelming in its enormity. Instead, over time, it would pick that night apart, let her deal with it piece by piece, in manageable chunks.

He had offered her the use of his private physician, but Chloe had refused. He asked her again to speak to the police but she said no. She had admitted the truth to Lex only because he found her vulnerable, still in shock, but now her mind was forming a protective shell, sealing the pain for use at a later date. She didn't want to speak about it, think about it, because when she did she relived it, and it was much too soon. So Lex let her that – for the moment. He promised himself that as soon as she was ready, he'd arrange for her to speak to someone, a professional. Meanwhile he'd speak to some 'professional's' of his own, 'friends' in Metropolis who could take care of the problem. At least, he would once he got a name.

Perhaps that's why he wasn't pushing Chloe into reporting this guy – because he knew that the Luthor brand of justice was a lot more… dynamic than that supplied by the official legal system.

He was still staring into her eyes and he smiled.

"Anyway, why would I need Nancy Drew? I have you right here."

She smirked at his friendly dig. Strangle that she could feel so comfortable with a man she barely knew before that night – a man she had nothing in common with except Clark Kent.

"How did the call go?" he asked. Lex didn't want to push Chloe too far, to bombard her with questions, but he needed to know.

"Weren't you listening?" Chloe's tone was disbelieving.

"Only to what was said on this end." Again, a smile.

"I'm pretty sure Lana's going to cover with my dad," she paused, her expression changing. "Lex, I want to thank you for… everything. Rescuing me-." He cut her off.

"I found you after the fact, Chloe. You rescued yourself."

She smiled and continued.

"- for bringing me here, letting me stay. I just couldn't go home, I mean, look at me, I'm a mess…" She trailed off and her gaze travelled down her arms, traversed with deep scratches from her run through the trees, and at the bruises. Catching sight of her reflection in a large mirror hanging on the opposite wall she noted the purple bruises beginning to develop across her collar bone and the side of her face and felt her eyes well with tears. Lex reached out and cupped her cheek and Chloe felt her heart quicken.

"You look beautiful."

Their eyes locked, his touch was so gentle there was barely any pressure from his skin on hers, only the sensation of warmth and closeness and something else that tingled deep inside her.

As suddenly as he had reached out to her, Lex drew his hand away and took a step back, again turning his attention to his bookshelves.

"I have something here you might like – a first edition of James Joyce. Ulysses."

"Wow..." She trailed off, uncertain how to respond. Had he felt the electricity too? The thrill of his warmth on hers? She swallowed, her throat dry in anticipation, and opened her mouth to speak but he still had his back to her and continued, oblivious.

"… I found it in a little bookshop in Europe last summer. An incredible find. But you probably want to get some rest, it's late. I'll have Mrs Wilson show you up to your room. I'll go find her, I'll just be a moment…" And with that he left the room.

Chloe stared at the empty doorway for a moment in surprise. Was she imagining things? That connection? It had lasted for just a few seconds, but she could still feel his fingertips on her cheek. Or maybe she just wished she could.

Slipping down in the russet leather armchair, Chloe closed her eyes. It had been a long night. Maybe in the morning she'd be thinking straight again, directing all normal heroic fantasies onto Clark Kent. Somehow though, she knew that she'd never forget what Lex Luthor had done for her that night. And neither would he…

xxx

Outside in the hallway, Lex leaned against the wall breathing deeply and rubbing his temples. What had that been? He was still shocked at the impact he felt as he caressed Chloe's face, a touch intended to comfort offering so much more.

But an attraction to Chloe Sullivan? She was in high school for pity's sake. To say nothing of the ordeal she had just been through. It was just so wrong of him to have those feelings, so irresponsible. And what was that whole James Joyce tangent about? He shook his head and took another deep breath. But there was something about the girl. He'd always known she had spark, but in her eyes there was so much more.

He longed to hold her again, protect her and kiss her. He smiled wryly – wasn't it supposed to be the victim who fell in love with her rescuer and not the other way around? But she wasn't a victim. Not by a long shot. She was strong and wilful and a survivor. Her tenacity and not just her beauty was what made her so appealing.

He had always gotten what he wanted – bought it, coaxed it, took it. It never made him happy though, they never made him happy. The girls he met were beautiful, sure. Sexy, upbeat, happy to let him take the lead, be the man, control the relationship. Because they didn't care about him – only his money, and were willing to let the playboy treat them like possessions just to get near some of it. Yes, he always got what he wanted. But the realisation that he couldn't have her though, made the lining in his stomach turn, made him sick. Because in the past Lex Luthor had always thought he got what he wanted, but now he realised, he only ever got what he deserved.