I had known she wouldn't be here tonight. I'd called ahead to make sure of that. Brianna had been crisp and curt in her response, saying that 'Miss Langtry has a prior engagement and will not be at the club tonight.' Her voice had dripped icicles, and had I not been in a state of disquiet I would have sharply retorted that she should mind her tongue, especially when speaking to her Prince. But that could wait until later.

It would have to wait. Because there was something I had to do tonight, something I could only do when I knew she wouldn't be there. When she wouldn't be there and I had no chance of her return. If she had made it known to Brianna she would be away from the club for the night, then this was the ideal chance.

The car had been waiting when I left the mansion, the door held open. I gave the destination and it took little to no time to get there. I was scarcely conscious of the ride, though, and murmured my thanks as I slid through the open door, walking through the club's entrance and down the inside staircase.

As always the Haven was crowded. I couldn't remember a time when it hadn't been. She had been proud of the club when it opened, and so rarely took time away from it. The first night she had watched the patrons from the corner booth, a glass of wine before her and the faintest smile on her lips. And I had been with her ..

"You're pleased," I said, my eyes on the crowds of people, both kindred and kine alike, that were now milling about the elegantly furnished club. Some had settled at the bar counter and were sipping cocktails, some had grouped off into twos or threes and taken a seat in one of the booths, and others had made their way to the dance floor, moving in rhythm to a slow, melodic rhythm.

I felt her smile before I heard her response. "It certainly brought quite the turnout, especially for its first night. I wonder why that might be?" Her tone was contemplative, but as her dark eyes flickered over my profile, I knew she was aware of the precise reason. Just as I was familiar with her and her actions, she was well acquainted with mine.

"They're only seeing half of it, though," she continued, and I turned to look at her calmly, though my curiosity was piqued. Her eyes were not on me but on a long, wide staircase I hadn't given much mind to before. Delicately it curved upwards, but where it led could not be seen from where we were. A subtle smile played on her lips, and then she turned to face me and I could see the dark gleam in her eyes. I knew that look far too well, knew the slight lift of her chin and the elegant curve of her white throat, and just as I knew those things I knew that she would, any moment ..

Smoothly she slid from the booth to stand, turning to face me as I did the same with inherent composure and calm. But she didn't wait to take my arm, instead began walking across the room, towards that staircase.

I followed her for only a moment, soon falling in step beside her, not speaking as we climbed the stairs. She was calm, her step light with a grace that could come from no amount of practice, but once we were out of the sight of the other patrons of the club, I sensed the definite change that overcame her. The pulsing sway of her hips, slight as it was, became faintly more defined, the tilt of her head displaying the perfect curve of her neck, and by the time she unlocked the door at the top of the stairs the dark glimmer in her eyes was unmistakable. A faint smile played on her lips as she pushed open the door, motioning for me to step in first.

To call the room an office would be an understatement. It was more luxurious than most apartments, at that. The decor reflected her exquisite taste in design, with a polished dining table and chairs, plush armchairs, a chaise lounge, and a mahogany desk accentuated only by a telephone and antique lamp. Elegant curtains hung along one wall, and I couldn't hide my approval, and turned to face her after I heard the door behind me click to a close. A slight smile curved her lips and as I turned back to survey the room once more I felt her arms slide around me, beneath my arms from behind.

"You approve," she murmured, lips against my ear as her chin rested on my shoulder. "I do," I replied without turning my head, though now acutely conscious of her behind me. Not just her presence, but her, the smell of Versace perfume and her own distinct scent and the feel of manicured nails as they skimmed along my shoulders lightly. Her skin was flawless, smooth as her cheek brushed mine, and sensation shot through me before I knew it was coming.

"You still haven't seen it all," she said, and this time the tremor in her voice was impossible to deny. I turned my head then, letting my eyes meet hers, and read the same dark, burning look in her eyes I had anticipated. I didn't move, but she took initiative, never letting her eyes break from mine as she moved to stand in front of me. The brush of her hand slid down my arm, and once our fingers were lightly entwined she began leading me across the room, towards the curtains I had noticed earlier. She was moving backwards but knew precisely where she was going, as there was no uncertainty in her step.

When she pulled back the curtains and led me through them I realized they had not been just another tasteful decorative choice, but rather a door in themselves. They led to another room, even more tastefully decorated than the first. Crimson silk was draped delicately over the walls, the carpet soft and lush, and the faint scent of her perfume hung in the air. An elegant dressing table stood in the corner, a candelabra accenting either side with a spotless, oval mirror between them both. And on the room's other side was the bed, boasting a mahogany headboard and satin sheets in the same shades as the room's decor.

I felt her fingernails graze up my spine and her arm encircle my waist as she moved to stand in front of me again, and when our eyes met I knew she had intended this all along. My hands slid up to rest on her hips, and when our lips met in a searing kiss I clutched her in my arms tightly, feeling how small she was ..

There wasn't time for this sort of nostalgia, I told myself sharply. But it was hard to not think back on the past when I was in that very room now. It hadn't taken much to get one of the workers with a master set of keys to unlock the door, and now inside the room that was hers, it was impossible to not think of her.

Her things were everywhere, her signature style and touch - and scent - overpowering in this room, assaulting me from every direction. I forced myself to move quickly through the first room and through the curtains, into her bedroom.

That, however, had been a mistake.

If her presence had been overpowering in the first room it was smothering in the bedroom. Her perfume standing on the dresser where she had left it - who was she wearing it for? - the empty hanger on the outside of the wardrobe door - which dress had she worn? - so many signs of her presence, each confirming more than the first that she had in fact gone out for the night.

I felt a roaring heat rush through my entire being, hands curling into tight fists with that realization. She was mine, mine and no one else's. She was never to share anyone's bed but mine! Something was nagging at the back of my consciousness, telling me that there was a reason for all of this, but I shoved that feeling out and away as quickly as it had come. I didn't care. The only thing I was really finding that I cared about now was finding her, her and whoever she was with.

She wouldn't be with them for long.

Straightening my coat I left the room, walking briskly past the worker that had let me in to the upstairs office. A quick turn of my head made their eyes lock with mine, and then they swayed slightly to lean against the wall. I turned back to the stairs, knowing that there would be no memory of my time here to that worker, and continued down the stairs and out the front doors again.

Wherever she was, I would find her.