London, England

He paced the floor, not letting his gaze linger on her magnificent eyes. He could stare into them for hours. He tried to not let her distract him as he explained the rules to her.

"Ms. Bristow, in situations like these I feel I am very flexible-"

"Flexible?" she asked enraged, "you mean to tell me that kidnapping me was you being flexible?"

He ignored her incensed face. "You will have your own suite, located on the 1st floor. You are not to leave the room unless it is at 9 o'clock prompt for breakfast, 12 o'clock for lunch and 6 o'clock for dinner. Understood?"

"You son of a bitch! Why the hell are you keeping me like this?"

"Sydney, be reasonable- at least I gave you some means of comfort! You could be stuck in a rotten cell like I was- which I may add- can be arranged! Deirdre, Please escort Ms. Bristow to her room."

He left the room in a hurry. Obviously hurt.

The room was so lavish and glittering that Sydney gasped. The curtains were a jade green entwined with gold lace to match the covers on the godly four-poster bed. She stared in amazement at every aspect of the suite from the sofas to the carpets to the mirrors, before looking outside the window that over looked the opulent gardens filled with graceful water fountains and every kind of flower imaginable.

"Ms. Bristow, dinner will be served 3 hours from now. Mr. Sark would appreciate it if you would dress appropriately-"

"But- I don't have anything to wear-" Sydney said, embarrassed. She only had the alias she was still wearing, and frankly, the outfit only suited a blonde.

Maybe I could lend it to Sark

She smiled softly as she imagined Sark wearing her khaki pants, blouse and a pair of heels. Then she imagined how much she had harmed him with his words. He had given her the best and she had showed him her inmost hate for him.

"Ms. Bristow, the limo has arrived. Mr. Sark has approved our visit-"

She snapped out of her daydream.

"Visit?" Sydney interrupted, "What visit? Where?"

"We are going shopping Ms. Bristow. I believe it essential if you have nothing to wear- don't you think?"

The limousine pulled up to Harrods. Deirdre led her inside. A group of women greeted them as they entered through the golden doors. They then grabbed Sydney and dragged her into a dressing room and measured her. The first outfit they gave her was for dinner tonight.

Sark didn't say anything about formal

They handed her a classy burgundy number. She stepped out of the partition and Deirdre looked up at her and shook her head. Immediately afterwards, the frantic women were pushing her back into the dressing room. Sydney tore the dress off just quickly enough before another dress was being pulled over her head. This dress was a gorgeous lilac.

She reappeared and was greeted with another 'No.' from Deirdre.

The last dress she tried on was the dazzling green that covered her suite in Sark's mansion. She darted out of the room once more and smiled at Deirdre. This was the dress that the paranoid women said 'Bring our your lovely eyes darling.' Deirdre too grinned and said.

"We'll take it."

Sydney beamed at the women, who looked delighted.

She was lying there for an hour before Deirdre returned from her shopping-spree laden with bags. She had left Sydney to have her hair and nails done and returned an hour afterwards looking tired and weary. She had spent her afternoon searching for clothes that would fit and suit Sydney.

"Wow, you really out did yourself," she exhaled, looking into the bags filled with designer brands. She turned and looked her in the eyes "Thank you." She smiled genuinely.

"You shouldn't be thanking me Ms. Bristow, you should be thanking Mr. Sark." Sydney's smile disappeared.

"I know."

He stared at his plate waiting for her. He didn't want to have dinner with her. He didn't want the woman in his house. He didn't want her within a 200-mile radius of him. But there she was. He had to have her. It was the only way of getting his inheritance back. The inheritance the Covenant now had. It was the only way of getting his life back.

"Martin," he turned to the waiter "Can you please tell Ms. Bristow to hurry-"

He was slightly flustered as he turned to look at the staircase.

She's amazing

She had spent the last hour getting ready and now as she slowly and gracefully stepped down the stairs, she knew all eyes were on her. The hurt he had felt towards her disappeared as soon as he saw the enticing woman step gently down his staircase.

Maybe this won't be so bad after all

She sat down and looked at her plate. She was trying so hard to avoid his gaze and spent most of the meal planning an escape route. The meal went along silently. No one spoke while they dully ate their 3-courses. She knew Sark was still mad at her. She couldn't help it. Inside she didn't care. She was getting out of here. Tonight.

She got up and for the first time in two hours, looked Sark straight into his cold blue eyes and in the most placid tone said:

"Thank you for dinner."

Sark continued staring at his plate as Martin cleaned it up. He was too formulating the next phase of his plan. As Sydney observed he was still hurt by the earlier comment.

"Sark, I'm… I'm- "

He looked at her and knew she was sorry but too proud to admit it. He smirked

"You're what?" He looked at her and saw how much it was killing her. It was tearing her up inside. How could she say sorry to a wanted terrorist? She lifted her head and sneered, seeing what he was doing.

"You know what, It doesn't really matter, you deserved it." And with a pompous gait, she left the room and up the stairs to her suit.

She drove him crazy. He hated the way she acted. She didn't know how anyone could love a woman like that.

But it won't be long

He smiled and leaned back in his chair.

AN: I know this chapter is slightly dull but I think its important to have it so I can move onto the next chapters... Please Review!