alright as promised here is chapter 5...hope you like it...

Chapter 5

The party had been stressful for Serena. But with a shudder of dread, she realized it had been as easy as boiling water compared to what she was facing now.

Darien had made a big point of their leaving the party early--allowing everyone to believe the newlywed couple wanted to be alone. Since they weren't really newlyweds, and she, at least, had no earthly desire to be alone with him, she assumed he'd planned to get to bed because of early meetings in the morning. At least that's what she hoped he planned. For all she knew, with that playboy reputation of his, Darien might be planning a little leisure-time seduction of one particular captive virgin!

She stood inside her fancy yacht bathroom, clad in a read, oversized T-shirt she'd gotten upon graduation from the Culinary Institute of America. It had foot-high, black letters on the front that read C.I.A. Most people thought those initials stood for the well-known Central Intelligence Agency, a shadowy spy organization. Every time she wore the shirt, that misunderstanding got a laugh. Tonight, however, she wore it, not for laughs but because it was the largest this she owned that she could sleep in. she tugged at the hem. Though it came almost to her knees, which was longer that her dress had been, she still felt vulnerable.

She'd managed to waste an hour in the bathroom, so it had to be midnight by now. running a tired hand across her eyes, she faced the fact she couldn't cower in there forever. the head was big, but there were no comfortable places to sleep. sooner or later she had to leave.

She finally decided the best plan would be the dash to the bed and quickly slip beneath the covers. hopefully, Darien was asleep on the settee and wouldn't even be aware of her comings and goings. if he did happen to be awake, he'd see her for only a second or two before she was safely under the bedsheets and out of his amused sight.

With a quick intake of breath, she opened the door and dashed halfway to the bed before she registered the fact that the lights were on and Darien was nowhere to be seen. she glanced toward the door to his head. it stood ajar. "Mr. Shields?" she called, though not very loudly, for she wasn't sure she wanted to engage him in conversation, considering he might be, er, undressed.

There was no reply.

Puzzled, she walked around the bed to glance into his bathroom. all was quiet, and predictably neat. there was a lightweight terry robe on a golden hook beside the glassed-in shower. she frowned. it didn't appear he'd even begun to get ready for bd. where could he have gone? when she'd scurried into her bathroom an hour ago, she'd been led to believe he was going straight into his to shower and then go to bed.

Aquick, disobedient thought flitted through her brain, a vision of Darien stealing off to meet Ann What's-Her-Name in the moonlights, but she squelched it. that would be foolish of him, considering he was trying to prove to the board that he was reformed, settled man. still, hormones sometimes didn't listen to the logical brain. She was an excellent example of that, considering how, out on that dance floor tonight, she'd felt illogically drawn to Darien Shields. Of all people!

She closed her eyes, trying to blot out that uncomfortable memory. well, hormones or no hormones, logic or no logic, she certainly wasn't going to trek off looking for him. if he wanted to take such a chance by meeting Ann, that was his business. as long as her grandfather didn't find out about the make-believe marriage, that as all she needed to worry about. besides, the more damage Darien did to his chances at keeping control of his company, the happier she should be, shouldn't she?

Absently she turned off a lamp burning on a dresser beside Darien's bathroom door. that left only one wall sconce on, near the entry. its glow was relatively dim, so she decided to leave it. Darien would have to see her in his bed, when and if he did show up. that way he couldn't crawl in beside her and later plead that he'd forgotten she was there. She might be a virgin, but she wasn't a dumb virgin.

Just as she reached for the bedspread, preparing to climb in, the door opened and Darien stalked in, looking irritated. "Get it!" he commanded in a rough whisper. he was wrestling off his tie and making quick work of discarding his formal shirt, revealing a well tanned, muscular chest. "Aunt Jeannie and Mamou are coming."

Serena had gone stark still in her bent-over position staring as Darien stripped off his clothes and carelessly threw them about. he sat down on the bed and yanked off his shoes, tossing them aside. next, the belt came off. Serena gaped as it arced into the air and landed on the settee, only to slither off and drop soundlessly to the carpet.

She cast her gaze to the bedspread, afraid to look at him now. the only clothing he had left to remove were his tuxedo trousers, and she didn't intend to witness that. she felt a weight on the bed nearby. "Ms. Tsukino, get in!" he ordered again, but barely above a whisper.

Unable to stop herself, she jerked to look at him. he was slipping beneath the covers, still clad in his formal slacks. as he settled in to lounge against the curved teak, headboard, she heard a rap on the door. that small sound seemed to release her from her stupor, and she scurried beneath the covers.

"Come in," Darien called, and when she turned to glare at him, she found herself surrounded by strong arms hugging her beneath her breasts and pulling her against his chest. she managed to suppress a gasp only by sheer force of will.

"Surprise, surprise, children!" chirped Aunt Jeannie as she preceded Mamou into the room, carrying two champagne glasses in each hand. she was flushed and smiling, her blond wig askew, but she didn't seem tipsy, just slightly out of breath.

"Happy wedding, Serena and Damon, my boy," Mamou croaked, holding a bottle aloft. "We've come to toast the bride and groom in private."

"Hope were not intruding," Jeannie added, hustling to the bed and holding out a hand for them to each take one of the glasses. "Oh, aren't you two the cutest couple," she cried. "Mamou." She gestured for him to come close. "I knew the minute I saw them together on the yacht they were in love." she tsk-tsked, shaking her head at them. "An you two thought you could fool me."

Serena experienced a twinge of guilt. she wondered what Darien was thinking and was dying of curiosity to see his expression. she couldn't tell a thing from her position, with her back against his chest and his chin brushing the top of her head. she surmised his smile was as pained as hers.

Mamou unscrewed the bottle lid and was pouring liquid into the glasses that she and Darien had taken from Jeannie. the drink was obviously not champagne, but something darker and thicker.

"What--what is that you're pouring, Grandpa?" she asked, trying to sound at ease.

"Something of Jean's. She says it does wonders for the vitality."

"Asparagus tonic," the older woman trilled. "Part of my regime to regain my youthful constitution." she patted Mamou's cheek. "And if I can be forthright, I must say your grandfather could benefit from some rejuvenating. He's just too pale." She lifted her glass, now filled with a gray-green liquid, and gushed, "To Darien and Serena, our dear, dear children May they give us beautiful babies--soon!" She smiled at them. When she focused on her grandnephew, he eyes filled with tears. "I'm so happy for you Darien. I feared you would never marry, since you didn't have a very--well--close family life of your own. I tried to be like a mother to you, but I was afraid my efforts weren't enough."

Serena could feel Darien stiffen and knew he was not happy by this turn of the conversation. Unaware of her grandnephew's nephew's tension, Jean chattered on. "But I'm elated I as wrong! Well, here's to your happiness, you two!"

"Cheers," came Darien's deep voice. Serena could detect a tightness in his tone. She shifted so she could watch him from the corner of her eye as he heartily drank. It amazed her that he was able to pretend so well. If she hadn't been in intimate contact with his rigid torso, she would have believed that he was a carefree bridegroom.

Both Jeannie and Mamou downed their tonic immediately. Serena toyed with hers, not because she dreaded the taste, for she didn't. Jean had insisted she drink the stuff several times in the past weeks, saying young women needed to concern themselves with their vitality, too.

No, she hesitated because she could feel Darien's strong heartbeat, could detect his powerful maleness through the thin cotton of her T-shirt. The idea of having this man make love to her--to be the mother of his children--well, the very though sent a female tingling through her, and she wasn't happy about that feeling.

"Drink up, Messy Miss," Mamou urged. "It's pretty tasty, if you ask me."

Hurriedly, Serena drank her tonic, though the lump of anxiety in her throat made it very difficult to swallow.

"Oh, before we leave you two lovebirds alone," Jeannie said, "I'd like to have that file of recipes you were cooking for me all month, Serena, dear. I want Chef Lita to cook them for Mamou and me while he's visiting."

"Oh," Serena objected, handing her empty glass to her grandfather. "Please, Aunt Jeannie, let me cook for you and Grandpa. I'm sure Lita will have her hands full with the other guests--"

"Nonsense," she scoffed. "Darien doesn't want you slaving away on your honeymoon! Besides, it won't hurt some of those cholesterol-riddled relatives of mine to get a taste of healthy food a time or two." She bent to brush a kiss first on Darien's cheek, then Serena's. "Now enjoy yourselves. Mamou and I will get that file and be on our way."

Serena nodded apathetically, knowing she had little choice. "The file's in the bottom drawer to the left of the refrigerator."

"We'll be off, then." She tossed back a cheery wave. "Come, Mamou, dear. The other thing I want to make sure of is that you get plenty of sleep. Rest, healthy food and happy thoughts. That's the ticket to vigorous corpuscles!"

Suddenly the elderly couple was gone and the room had fallen dead still. Serena started to wiggle out of Darien's hold, but he held her fast. "Wait a minute. Let's make sure they're gone."

Held captive in the circle of his arms, she couldn't recall experiencing such an eternal minute in her life. Everything she thought or felt or smelled seemed to be intensified a thousand times. She even began to imagine she could feel the masculine energy that made him so self-confident radiating from him.

Although his hands remained beneath her breast, he didn't take liberties, didn't grope. Still she sensed a quickening inside her, a thrill at the contact, as though he'd touched her like a lover, and she was stirred by it.

He smelled good, too, very good, and she couldn't help but inhale deeply of him, getting sinful pleasure in the act. As she consciously breathed his fragrance in and out, in and out, his chest began to seem exactly the right size to snuggle against. She found herself doing just that and scanning the sheer, athletic beauty of his arms. She started to relax, luxuriating in what had been a forced closeness only minutes ago.

Somewhere in the back of her brain, she perceived a sound--possibly a door closing off in the distance--but it didn't quite register.

"They're gone," he murmured.

"Who?" she asked through a long sigh. She didn't really care, for she was savoring an odd, inner glow that was awfully nice. Why not simply float along on this toasty, thick cloud of contentment, and not allow herself to be disturbed?

Something began to intrude on her pleasure. She snuggled deeper, trying to dislodge whatever the disturbance was. But it kept on--the same tingly reverberation was running through her that she'd felt earlier that night on the dance floor.

Her eyes flew open when she became fully aware of the fact that Darien was chuckling. "I thought only babies and adults with a clear conscience could fall asleep that quickly," he teased. "Apparently that's not true."

She swallowed hard, having forgotten about Mamou and Aunt Jeannie and the colossal lie that had forced them to be cuddled together like this. What was wrong with her?

She all but vaulted from his arms. "I wasn't asleep," she retorted, which was the truth. "I was merely playing the part of a loving bride." That, of course, was not the truth, but she couldn't tell him she'd found herself relishing their intimacy, wanting it to go on and on. Scrambling off the bed, she defended, "I thought--thought that's what you wanted. Now, will you kindly get out of my bed? Or did you lie about that, too?"

He'd propped himself up on his elbows and grinned at her. "I like the shirt."

She didn't know how to respond to his offhand comment, and didn't think shouting, Why, you dirty-minded womanizer, how dare you! would quite fit. Her mouth worked several times before she finally managed, "Thank you, Mr. Shields. Now, would you please get out of the bed?"

He lifted a doubtful brow. "Ms. Tsukino, have I offended you in any way while we've shared this bed?"

His bluntness made heat creep up her face. "Why--er, I suppose not."

Sliding out from beneath the covers, he stood up, so tall, so gloriously male. When his glance fell on her face again, his eyes held an intense flicker. "Just remember this. The only time you need expect my advances is when you request them. I don't rape women--especially faint-hearted virgins."

Awkwardly she cleared her throat. "I keep telling you, I'm not--"

"Prove it," he challenged softly. He said nothing more, merely loomed there looking sexy and irresistible, with a skeptical half grin on his lips.

A shiver of willful excitement rushed through her. She was sure she must be a blazing crimson by now, and was humiliated and resentful that the man could affect her so thoroughly. "You--you think you're heaven's gift to sexual abandon, I suppose! Well, you're not, Mr. Shields!" she snapped. "Personally, I find you totally--completely..." She was at a loss for words. What? Nothing descriptive came to her mind, and she was further mortified to discover that he slow, knowing grin could short-circuit her brain.

By now, his expression was openly amused. With a quick flash of teeth, he gave her a nod. "Good night, darling." He pivoted away to disappear into his bathroom.

After he'd gone, she stood their fairly trembling with rage. What was her problem? Why couldn't she think of any curt, descriptive adjectives? Words like--egotistical, tedious, obtuse, overbearing! Hell, they were all wonderful descriptions that she would have loved to shout at him. But she hadn't been able to think of any until he'd ensconced himself inside his bathroom.

Irritated to the brink of insanity, she marched around the bed and banged on his bathroom door. "For your information, Mr. Shields, you're conceited, insensitive, tiresome--" good, the words were spilling out now. Excellent, pithy words! "--smart-mouthed, boorish--"

The door was flung open and Darien as suddenly there. She was struck speechless by the fact that he was naked except for a towel he'd tied about his waist. "Yes?" he queried, leaning casually against the door jamb. "Did I hear you say something about wanting to prove something to me?"

She flinched at his taunt, stumbling a step away. For heaven's sake, Serena, her mind cried. Change the subject! Anything. Think of anything! All of a sudden the wonderful, pithy words she'd been shouting at him through the door dissipated like an indistinct dream. She was at a loss for insults, again, darn the man! Deciding to take the offensive, she blurted, "I--I merely wanted to know--to know--where you were tonight?" Well, at least it was a change in subject, and maybe it would put Mr. Superior on his defensive for a change!

Darien's expression darkened slightly in confusion. "When?"

"Before Grandpa and Aunt Jeannie came here."

He pursed his lips, nodding in understanding. "I was working in my office on board, why?"

She didn't have any idea why she was asking, except maybe the Ann thing was still lingering in the back of her mind. "What were you doing there? I suppose it would be too much to hope you were ordering an audit or whatever you'd call if for when Grandpa was fired--to prove his innocence!"

His expression grew foreboding. "Get off that, Ms. Tsukino. It's a pipe dream that can't possibly come true."

"Are you afraid to find out the truth?"

Straightening to his full height, he muttered an oath. "I don't have time for this. If you'll remember, my life isn't all roses right now, either." He cocked his head inquiringly. "While we're on the subject, how did you like Seiya Braxton?"

She was having trouble concentrating in the face of all his bare skin. As nonchalantly as she could, she shifted her gaze toward the marble tub to his left. "I thought he was charming," she muttered.

"Like hell, you did."

Shocked at his ability to read her mind, her gaze rocketed to his face. "Why would you say a thing like that?" she asked, purposely sidestepping his remark.

"Because I've gotten to know you, and you're a lousy liar. I could see in your expression tonight that you thought he was a shifty jerk."

She huffed disdainfully, spinning away, wishing she weren't so transparent to this man. "If you want the truth, I hope he beats the pants off you!"

"You mean the towel, don't you?"

She swallowed, trying to suppress hot images of him losing that towel. Apparently her body language was quite entertaining, for once again she was forced to listen to his disturbing chuckle.

When Serena awoke the next morning, Darien was gone, all evidence that he'd slept on the settee removed. After an awkward breakfast in bed, served by a clearly curious but closemouthed Molly, Serena dressed in a pair of white slacks, blue knit top and sandals, and emerged from the yacht as Mrs. Darien Shields.

She wanted to work up her nerve before she faced anyone, so she decided to sit on the beach and collect herself. But she found she wasn't alone long. The news spread quickly that Darien's young bride was out and about. Within minutes various cousins found her and engaged her in conversation. It was clear they were trying to pry information out of her, about how she and Darien had met, about Darien's future plans for the company, anything at all. She tried to smile and while keeping her answers vague, for she knew nothing about almost everything they wanted to know.

During these disquieting chats, she managed to get more information than she gave, and found out that Damon had had four sisters. All but Jean, the baby of the family, had married and produced abundant offspring. Now all the offspring had a stock in Shields Automotive Inc, and most of them were afraid of Darien's bold management tactics.

She found out from little comments here and there that Darien's relatives were frightened of losing their diamonds and their summer homes and their expensive private-club memberships, if Darien made a strategic business mistake in today's shake economy. She was startled by how many of the board members' wives came to her, appealing that she use her "influence" to convince Darien to pull back on one objective or rethink another agenda.

She was grateful when Jean intervened and announced that Darien had insisted she take his bride on a shopping trip. Before leaving, however, Serena checked on her grandfather, who'd decided to take a long nap. After kissing his pale cheek, she was whisked away in the sleek, chauffeured, black Chrysler 300, one of the most prestigious and luxurious cars of the Shields line.

Serena enjoyed Jeannie's cheery attitude, and their afternoon in some of the most elegant shops in Georgetown unfolded like a fairytale. She felt horrible guilt about the money she was spending in the guise of Mrs. Darien Shields, and kept asking, "Did Darien really insist on this?"

Jean only laughed, adding yet another gown or pair of shoes or skimpy negligee to the swelling account persisting that he had.

On the way home, Jeannie giggled, drawing Serena from her reflections of her growing list of misdeeds. She hadn't been able to calculate a dollar figure for what she'd purchased today and as filled with remorse. Jean's unexpected tittering was so out of place in the dark hole where her mood had taken her, she almost shrieked.

"Dear, are you all right?" Jeannie touched her arm. "You nearly jumped through the sunroof."

Serena faced the older woman and smiled feebly. "I'm fine. Did--did you think of something funny?" She knew she could use a good laugh.

Jeannie blushed all the way the her Cher wig roots. "Well, dear," she whispered, touching Serena's hand. "I suppose I can tell you this now. You see, I'm just happier than I've been in years."

Serena couldn't hold on to her smile any longer, for she sensed Jeannie's happiness had something to do with her lie. "Happy?" she echoed.

Jeannie nodded. "Oh, it was my deep, dark secret for a long time, and I was very ashamed of it for years."

Serena blanched, unable to think of a thing to say. What deep, dark secret could this sweet, eccentric woman have?

"It's about your grandfather, Mamou." She patted Serena's hand, then took hold of her fingers, squeezing them as though she needed to for reassurance. "You see, years ago, when I came back from finishing school in London, I met your grandfather. I was about twenty-two and he was twenty-five, and married, with a baby daughter. That darling child would have been your mother, of course." Jeannie's flush deepened. "Oh, this is just so embarrassing, but I feel I can tell you. You see, I fell deeply in love with Mamou at my very first sight of him, but naturally he was off-limits, being a married man."

Serena could tell her lips had opened in a soundless "oh" but even if she'd had anything to say, she didn't have the chance, for Jeannie was rushing on. "Oh, don't fret, dear, we didn't have an affair or anything so ugly as that. I simply loved him from afar for ten long years--until that awful day he left the company in--well--disgrace." She shook her head, sighing despondently. "I was heartbroken. I never believed Mamou had a dishonest bone in his body. But Damon was furious. Wouldn't listen to me. I was, after all, only a woman." She squeezed Serena's hand again. "I knew I'd never see Mamou again, and because of that I didn't speak to Damon for years. anyway, just--well what I'm trying to say is, I was hoping I'd have your support now."

Serena frowned, perplexed. "My--my support?" Her throat was dry, and she cleared it. "Support for what?"

Jeannie giggled again, sounding like a nervous schoolgirl. "The truth is, I never fell out of love with Mamou. And seeing him again, I was hoping--perhaps this might be my chance to--to find my own happiness, at last." She paused, her eyes filling with self-conscious tears. "And naturally, I'd like to give that sweet man some happiness, too. Don't hate me for saying this, but I don't believe he's been happy for a long time." Her hold on Serena's fingers became painful. "Do you think I have a chance with..." She stopped speaking to bite her lip. when a tear slid down that pudgy, rouged cheek, Serena was so overcome with emotions she thought she might start crying, too.

Jean Shields had been hopelessly in love with her grandfather for over fifty years. She felt nauseating, sinking gloom invade her soul. Her lie had now sucked in another innocent victim. Poor Jean, getting her hopes raised again after all these years. Se hated herself for putting this woman's heart and hopes at risk, too.

A lump blocking her throat, she took the woman into her arms. "Oh, Aunt Jeannie, I had no idea." Pulling slightly away, she looked into the woman's watery blue eyes, the same lovely blue as Darien's, and she smile wanly. "Grandpa's a lucky man to have earned your affection. And he certainly could use a little happiness in his life." As the car pulled down the winding Shields drive, she hugged the older woman's shoulders. Hesitating, she hated to add a sad note, but after a few seconds she knew she was obliged to say this. "Of course, you know Grandpa's not in the best of health--"

"Dear me, I could tell immediately," Jeannie admitted. "That's why I've taken him under my wing. I intend to build him up, make him fell wanted and needed. You'll be surprised, dear, what my tender loving care will do."

Serena nodded, working at keeping a brave face. She'd tried to contact Mamou's doctor yesterday afternoon, but he'd been in surgery so she'd said she'd try later. Then the bottom had dropped out of her plans when Darien forced her into publicly being his bride. She hadn't even thought to call back. As soon as she could, though, Serena planned to find out what he thought of all this, and if he'd approved this trip. Attempting to keep her fears out of her voice, she whispered, "I hope you're right, Aunt Jeannie. I--I want you to be right."

Jean kissed Serena's cheek and sat back with a relieved sigh, dabbing at her eyes with a handkerchief. "Well, I must compose myself, or what will Mamou think of me?" She reached up the front seat and tapped on the driver's shoulder, calling loudly, "Melvin?"

The young man, a Grand Cayman native, removed the headset from one ear so that his reggae music was no longer blaring directly into his brain. "Yes, Miss Shields, mum?" he inquired in a quaint accent reminiscent of an American Southern drawl mixed with a bit of a Scottish lilt.

"Melvin, the young Mrs. Shields is running late for the beach cookout, so stay with her and carry the things she needs to the yacht, please."

"Yes, mum." He nodded as he pulled to a halt on the circle drive before the house.

"What beach cookout?" Serena asked. This was the first she'd heard of it.

Jean blew delicately into a handkerchief, then deposited the lacy bit of pink linen into her purse. "Oh, didn't I mention it? Now, you run back to the yacht and get into one of those delicious bathing suits we bought. Darien is probably already there since it's after six." She made a rather sour face. "I told Chef Lita to use your recipes for tonight's cookout, but she had a fit, raging she'd already made nearly all the delicacies for the party and she would abandon us forever if I forced the issue." She shrugged. "Silly girl was near tears, so I fear dinner tonight will be decadent." She smiled slyly. "Mamou and I, of course, will have to dine alone on healthy salads and asparagus tonic. When I must, I can whip up a pretty tasty meal."

Serena noticed that the idea of being alone with Mamou had caused a girlish sparkle to spring to life in Jeannie's eyes, and she was touched by it. But her mind kept turning back to what she'd said earlier--about Darien already being on the yacht getting ready for the party. She didn't relish the idea of another public function where she'd have to pretend to be his adoring wife again, so soon--especially clad only in skimpy swimming attire.

She noticed the young chauffeur, who'd finally relinquished his headphones, was helping Jean out of the car. "Oh, Serena, dear," Jeannie added, reaching back to fondly touch the younger woman's hand. "I keep forgetting to say this, but I know you'll make Darien very happy."

Serena bit the inside of her cheek, thinking forlornly, Only if I walk into the ocean and keep on going!

Okay this chapter is finally done...now I know I promised to have ch. 6 up immediately after it, but I have come across some technical difficulties. my laptop refuses to work in FL, so I am now forced to dictate the remaining ch's to my cousin in NY...which is kind of hard since i'm doing them straight from memory...BUT HAVE NO FEAR I WILL GET THIS DONE till next time KACI