Thanks for the reviews guys…sorry I left u hangin in the last chapter, I dunno I just felt the chapter needed to have a suspended ending…anyway here's ch. 7
Chapter 7
When he tilted his head toward her, she amazed herself by reaching up to meet his lips halfway. His kiss was warm, but not as demanding as he'd been in public. Sliding her arms about his neck, she coaxed him to blanket her body. He followed her down, kissing her softly, sensitively, yet she could feel his powerful body shudder with pent-up tension as though he was holding back, not wanting to frighten her, overwhelm her because of her innocence.
The tender beauty of the experience made her want to be closer to him, to taste him more deeply. Instinctively she opened her mouth, inviting greater intimacy.
He stilled, lifting his lips to hover just above hers. "Serena," he groaned, "don't tempt me."
She was having none of his chivalrous self-restraint now. His kiss had been wildly stimulation even as fleeting and disciplined as it had been. She craved knowing a wilder, more intense excitement she sensed he was capable of evoking—if he wanted to.
"Kiss me, Darien," she urged through a sigh. "Really kiss me." Fearing he might further object, she met his lips with wanton abandon. It wasn't as though she'd never been kissed, for heaven's sake. He needn't treat her like a china doll. Parting her lips willfully, she dared him to posses her mouth.
The sound that issued up from his throat as half chuckle, half groan. Parting his lips in a like manner, he teased and tempted, his movements lazy and shockingly sensuous. She felt a fierce, aching thrill at the seductiveness of his kiss as it deepened, his questing tongue sending her spiraling toward new stirrings, heightened needs.
She clung to him, wanting the intimacy to go on and on. The naked strength of his rippling back beneath her fingers made her tremble with anticipation. He was so large, so exciting, and he was going to make love to her, too—here on the beach. She knew deep down in her heart that she would never, ever forget his mastery over—
Her mind tumbled and slipped, trying to focus on something important. What was it? Darien was going to make love to her here on the beach—too…
Too!
That was the word that held the truth she didn't want to face. visions of countless women writhing on the beach in Darien's arms flashed in her mind. Legions of women. So many women Darien couldn't even guess a number. And she was about the join that long list! Where had her good sense gone? He'd tried to leave it with one experimental kiss, but no, she'd insisted. And now his bare chest was crushing her breasts, the heat of his body searing her flesh. His knowledge of how to pleasure a woman was astonishing, so much so that even that first, brief kiss had drugged her mind, sent her teetering on the edge of sanity.
Darien was no longer holding back, assuming she'd given her consent. A voice nagged that she'd done just that, but she shoved the realization aside. "No…" she cried, but it came out sounding like a passion-drenched sigh. And her arms were still clutching, clinging to his back, acting on a need and will of their own. What kind of dimwit was she? "Oh, Darien," she tried again when he lifted his lips from hers to move in a lush, nipping exploration along her jaw and throat.
His teeth and lips left her tingling with sweet urgency, and she could only open her lips in mute protest as he paid stimulating homage to the pulsing hollow of her throat.
His lips left a moist, sizzling trail as he traveled farther down to feast on the rise of one breast. The shock of imminent surrender gave her her voice, and she cried, "Darien—don't…" It had taken all of her ebbing strength to force those two words from between her benumbed, throbbing lips. She wasn't sure he'd even heard her, the plea had been so frail and breathy.
After another second it was clear that he had, for his kisses stopped and he lifted his mouth slightly away from her skin, though his breath still tantalized her flesh. She'd regained enough control to open her eyes and look at him. Focusing on the dark beauty of his hair, she had an urge to run her fingers through it. She knew it would feel heavenly between her fingers, but she resisted. With great effort, she dragged her arms from his back. "Darien," she repeated, her voice still far from normal. "Please…"
His low, irascible chuckle surprised her as he lifted himself up to linger above her, his gaze narrow. "Don't ever tell me you're not a virgin, again, Ms. Tsukino," he admonished gruffly. With that, he rolled away and sat up.
She could only lie there, staring at him with baffled wariness. He'd let her go so easily. What had she expected, a fight? Objection
He wasn't looking at her now, but was staring out to sea, a hard expression on his face. she sensed a supercharged tension in the air between the, and was suddenly struck by the truth. It wasn't that Darien found her undesirable. He simply didn't force a woman to have sex with him once she'd said no. looking closer at his profile, she could tell by the clenching and unclenching of his jaw that he'd been as affected by the near seduction as she, and was working at regaining control.
It was an ironic time to do so, but she found that insight into his character terribly attractive and as almost sorry she'd put a stop to—everything. He was a surprisingly sensitive man beneath all his bold arrogance, and she sensed he would be a caring lover. Struggling to sit up, she was stunned at how wobble she felt. "Thank you, Darien," she offered.
He flicked her a cynical glance. "For what?"
"You know." She shrugged, wishing she had the nerve to touch his hand in gratitude, but knowing it would be the absolute wrong thing to do. "For being so gallant. I've known men who weren't half so nice about it."
He mouthed a curse, running a distracted hand through his moonlit hair. "I kissed you. It was my fault." Pushing himself up to stand, he held out a hand. "We'd better get back. I think my ego's had enough of a workout tonight."
She would have avoided his touch, but knew she was too shaky to stand on her own. He affected her so thoroughly; his kisses were debilitating—deliciously so. when she placed her fingers in his, he helped her to stand. Dipping down, he picked up his shirt and placed it about her shoulders. She was grateful, for it was getting chilly. "Thanks," she murmured without looking at him.
They walked side by side for a few minutes before he placed his hand about her waist again. "Don't panic," he cautioned, derision in his tone.
"Why are you angry?" she asked, peering sideways at him. "Or is that what sexual frustration does to a man?"
He frowned down at her. "I've never heard of sexual frustration as a remedy for headaches. Does that answer your question?"
A giggle bubbled up in her throat and she was startled by it. "Sorry," she whispered. No doubt her tattered nerves were getting the better of her.
He grunted. "You have an interesting sense of humor."
"I'm not laughing at you," she insisted. "I think—I could be having a nervous breakdown from all the stress. I don't even like you, and I almost—we almost…"
His frown deepened. "You're not having a nervous breakdown. You're experiencing what almost having sex does to virgins."
She sobered. "You're such an expert on virgins?"
"Let's change the damn subject."
Unable to let it drop, she demanded, "How many virgins have you deflowered?"
"Fifty-two at last count."
She stumbled to a halt. "That's disgusting!"
"Hell!" He turned on her. "It's also bull. If I were the womanizer everyone thought I was, I wouldn't have time to eat, let alone run a business."
She stared at him, his unexpected admission defusing her indignation. "You wouldn't?"
He shook his head at her obvious stupefaction. "Come on."
"Well, how many, then—really?"
He exhaled loudly. "Even if you were my wife, it wouldn't be your business."
She flushed. "Did you promise any of them marriage?"
"I promised them whatever they wanted to hear."
She whirled to stare at him.
He half grinned at her horrified expression. "Promises are made to be broken, Ms. Tsukino," he remarked with a contemptuous flare of his nostrils. "I learned that lesson early and well."
"And—and what of their feelings when you broke those promises?"
"What of them?" he asked without inflection, turning away.
She felt his arm encircle her waist again, and shuddered, but not from dislike of the man, from the pain she'd seen flash across his face, the sadness shading his words. Good God, what had done this to him? What had wounded him so badly that it made him so contemptuous of intimate relationships?
Without hesitation, she wrapped her arm about his waist, really wanting to for the first time. She wished she had whatever power he needed to heal the tragic gash in his soul. "Darien?" she asked after a few strained minutes. "Why didn't you make me some empty promises back there—to have your way with me on the beach? Surely you could tell I was—weakening."
She could feel his muscles tense at her question, but his step didn't falter. By now they were nearing the partygoers, and the ban was playing a lively version of "Red Red Wine," a popular reggae tune.
"Darien," she coaxed. "Why? And don't say it was because you didn't want me, because I could tell you did."
He stopped and turned to fully face her. His lips lifted into a cynical smile, but the expression held a suggestion of melancholy. He scanned her face for a long minute. Finally he reached up to graze her hair with his fingers. Surprising her, he took her into his arms to dance. "You have sand in your hair, darling," he murmured, his breath teasing her temple.
As he held her against his chest, she could feel the strong beat of his heart, and she relished their closeness, even against her will. From the corner of her eye, she noticed that several of his stockholders had drawn near enough so that Darien was no longer at liberty to speak freely.
Or did he simply have no answer for her question?
Darien sat in his yacht's luxurious office, fitted with every possible electronic device a business tycoon might need, including satellite communications, computers, fax machines, color printers and copiers. It was late, and he was tired, but he wanted to go over the daily sales figures, even though his mind wasn't on them. His thoughts drifted as he stared at his hand and the four Caymanian coins Mikou had given him earlier that evening. They weren't worth more than one American dollar, but the old man had gone to so much trouble to deliver them.
He fingered the silver pieces, turning them in his fingers, wondering about the man who'd so painstakingly limped to the water's edge all the way from the house, to present them—along with a feeble hug.
His stare drilled into those damned coins and he fisted his hand around them, angry at the memories they conjured. His own grandfather had never hugged him. The cold bastard. Darien had been nothing to him but a means to an end. When Damon's son had proved ill equipped for the job, Darien had become Damon's last hope—the young prince who would succeed him as king of his automotive empire. Darien had been raised precisely for that purpose, like a champion stallion bred for speed and strength. Never once could he recall being hugged by his grandfather—just drilled, rebuked, molded, then forged in the kiln of Damon's iron will.
Opening his fingers, he scowled at the coins, irritated that his mind kept slipping to them and to Serena's grandfather. He was so devoted to her, and it was laughable how devoted Serena was to him—trying to pull off her preposterous scheme to clear his name. unfortunately for her, she couldn't lie her way out of a paper bag.
He was arrested from his dark musings when searching hands reached from behind him to slip down his shoulders and seductively skim his chest. He lifted his head with a jerk, startled by Serena's sudden show of passion. When she'd left him an hour ago, she'd seemed somehow warmer toward him, not quite so antagonistic. He was still confused about the softening in her attitude, yet he'd had no idea such sexy plans had been going through her brain. Maybe she was harder to read than he'd thought.
"Well, hello," he murmured. With a swell of masculine gratification, he took her wrist, pulling her around his leather swivel chair. It jolted him when the woman he'd coaxed into his lap wasn't his unpredictable make-believe bride, but his extremely predictable cousin by marriage, Ann Leyland.
"Hello, yourself, stranger." She snaked her arms about his neck. "I'm glad to see the excitement of having a new bride has worn off. Now maybe you'll have time for me." Her mouth was very near bloodred and open in an inviting pout.
He offered her a twisted grin. "I gather your mourning period for Alan is over?"
She laughed, the purr of a cat anticipating cream. "Don't pretend to be disapproving," she cajoled. "You and Alan were never close. He simply hated you, you know."
Darien lifted a brow. "Really?"
She toyed with the hair at his nape. "I don't blame him. You beat him at everything in school—president of the senior class, captain of the football team, you got all the cheerleaders…" She leaned closer to kiss the edge of his mouth. "It made me wonder if you were better than Alan at—everything…"
Darien sat still as she brushed the other corner of his mouth with hers. "Hmm?" she urged, coyly pressing her bikini-clad breasts against his bare chest. "He would have voted against you in favor of Seiya if he'd lived."
"And what about you?" he queried, knowing full well what she was going to suggest.
She shifted away to judge his expression, which he was careful to keep amicable. Smiling, apparently satisfied so far, she said, "Oh—I'm still trying to make up my mind. I thought—if we met privately—you might convince me to swing my votes your way." She paused, her smile going sly. "I'd hate to go against Alan's wishes without a good reason."
"I can see that," he said, hard-pressed to keep the disgust from his voice.
He could feel her stiffen then, and though she held on to her smile, he saw a flicker of worry in her eyes. She wasn't convinced he was buying it. But it was clear she had no intention of giving up. "How would you fell about a walk on the beach?" she cooed, stroking his earlobe. "I'm a very good—listener."
He surveyed her face. she was a beauty, with fashion-model cheekbones, a pert, turned-up nose, and full lips—painted read and slightly opened the way they were—well, the erotic symbolism was hardly lost on him. Ann had the sort of voluptuous body every healthy man dreamed of burying himself inside. He'd heard rumors for years of how freely she gave away her hedonistic favors, and tonight she was practically begging to give Darien an exhilarating ride—and in the bargain, her corporate votes. Not a bad night's work.
Instead of feeling pleased with the offer, he was very sorry for Alan. Though there had never been any love lost between the two cousins, Darien found himself pitying the man, wondering how he'd stood living with this self-centered cheat.
Granting her his most charming smile, he assisted her off his lap, then stood. "I think a walk would be nice." Taking her hand, he led her from the office, then down the hallway to the foyer and onto the deck. The breeze was cool, salty, and seemed sweet and pure compared to the cloying perfume that Ann wore. He helped her down the gangway, then drew his hand to his lips.
"What's this?" she asked through a giggle.
"It's goodnight," he said, releasing her. "Have a nice walk."
"But, Darien—"
"Ann," he interrupted, this time allowing his irritation to register in his tone. "Alan hated me. Feel free to do the same."
"But—but, Darien," she cried. "You need my votes!"
"Yes, I do," he returned.
"Then why?"
He glanced down at his hand, the one that clutched the damnable coins. "Hell if I know." Lifting his gaze to her thunderstruck features, he indicated with a nod that she leave. "If you'll excuse me, I have a call to make." Turning his back, he bounded up the gangway and headed toward his office.
Darien had gone directly from the party to his office, nearly an hour ago. Serena had known there was no way she could sleep. Her nerves were too overwrought. So she'd showered and put on the most conventional of the lingerie Aunt Jeannie had forced her to purchase, a white silk gown that reached down to a little further past her thighs. It was darlingly sheer, following the contours of her body to a disturbingly accurate degree. Even with the matching silk wrap, the ensemble was indecent.
She tried to read a novel, but her mind kept moving on its own to thoughts of Darien—his kiss, his anger, his quiet pain. She finally tossed the book down in aggravation and slid from the bed, deciding to go out on the aft deck to try to calm her nerves with the rare beauty of the tropical night.
She'd almost reached the double doors that led to the deck when a noise distracted her from her course. She turned in time to see Darien leading Ann along the hallway—her hand in his—toward the foyer.
She stilled in the shadows as they stealthily moved toward the exit. Ice spread through her veins. So this was what he'd been doing in his office late at night! She bit her lip. Serena, what are you getting so up in arms about? The man's not your husband. He has every right to seek out female companionship if he cares to. Don't be a jealous fool.
She found herself moving toward the foyer. Exactly why, she had no idea. When she reached the door that led to the deck, she cracked it open. Darien and Ann were on the dock now, and Darien was kissing her hand.
With Ann's giggle echoing in her ears, Serena soundlessly closed the door and slumped against the bulwark. Unable to fathom the dull ache that had begun pounding in her temples, she made her way to the master suite and closed the door at her back.
A half hour passed—or a hundred years—Serena couldn't be sure as she lay in the darkened cabin, staring out the picture window at a placid, moon-spangled ocean. Unfortunately the tranquil scene did nothing for her infuriated state, and that infuriated her even more. She had no right to be upset about Darien's choice of sexual partners. He was doing her a favor by going along with her lie. He owed her nothing! Of course he wasn't doing any harm to his chances of keeping his company under his leadership, either. And probably, tonight, he'd enhanced those chances further, as far as Ann's votes were concerned.
She gritted her teeth against the vision of the two of them together, and tried to think of other things—of Mikou's doctor saying that her grandpa would be fine with Aunt Jeannie's tender loving care—of her grandfather and Aunt Jeannie living happily for years and years, trailed by frolicking pugs. Damn that doctor. Why did he have to choose this week to be out of town!
Serena heard the unmistakable click of the door opening. Darien was coming to bed. She snapped her eyes shut, feigning sleep.
She could hear him cross the cross the room and enter his bath. When his head door closed, she opened her eyes again and glanced at the closed portal. Once the shower came on, she forced herself to turn away, trying to will herself to sleep. She didn't care to be awake when he came out. She might have an overwhelming urge to leap up and congratulate him on successfully winning Ann's votes—and everything else she had to offer.
When he came out fifteen minutes later, she was still awake, and very sorry about it, especially when he walked around to stand before the window wall. Sensing where he'd gone by the faint brush of his footsteps, she covertly opened her eyes. His back to her, he was staring out to sea. A massive, compelling silhouette against the misty moon glow, his thick, black hair gleamed and his shoulders blotted out a great deal of the starry sky. He wore only a pair of dark nylon shorts, and his long sturdy legs were braced wide. She had the fanciful thought that no Roman warrior or Greek god had ever looked so potent or desirable in the moonlight.
Though she knew he was unscrupulous in his use of women, she couldn't help but admit he was a delicious sight. Unable to help herself, she stared at her tall, handsome antagonist towering there—all power and muscle—wishing she could simply close her eyes and forget that he existed.
Suddenly he bowed his head and mumbled a raw curse. She was puzzled, wondering what dark thoughts were going through his mind. He looked down at his wristwatch, evidently checking the time. He turned then, and she squeezed her eyes tight, trying to persuade her breathing to be slow, even, faking normalcy. Her task was made harder when she noticed he was moving toward her.
Sensing his nearness, she fretted about what he might be doing. She made herself continue to breathe—in, out, in, out—working to keep her breaths deliberate and uniform, praying he wouldn't detect that she was not only awake, but that every nerve in her body was tingling with a blend of anticipation and dread. Why was he standing above her? He had to be studying her. But why?
A shrill ringing broke the night silence, and Serena was amazed that she managed to keep from leaping up and screaming. If she jumped at all, Darien must have missed it when he'd turned his attention to the noise.
He rounded the bed and jerked up the receiver on the phone. "Yes?" he whispered. After a brief pause he said, "Diamond, I'm glad your answering service found you. I need something done, but I can't talk here. Give me a second to get to another phone."
There was a faint clatter as he set down the receiver. A couple of seconds later, he was gone.
Serena opened her eyes and turned to look at the phone—the cordless was off the cradle, lying on the table. In the stillness, she imagined she could almost distinguish voices. Twisting away, she squeezed her eyes shut. The call was none of her business. Still, she couldn't ignore it. She recognized the name Diamond. He was the head of Shields Automotive's legal staff. Aunt Jeannie had spoken over him, referring to him as one of the most brilliant corporate lawyers in the country.
Rolling over, she stared at the phone, dim in the darkness, her heart hammering in her ears. If there was even the slightest possibility Darien was speaking to his lawyer about—she could hardly bring herself to even think of the idea—about an audit of the books back when Mikou was fired?
This was something her mother had dreamed of most of her life, something Serena had hoped with all her being. Beside herself with longing that it be true, she gave up her attempts to disregard the call and scrambled across the bed. Very stealthily, she bent to place her ear as close to the receiver as she could. Her heart in her throat, she stopped breathing, listening.
"But a forty-year old audit, Darien?" a compelling voice was shouting. "That will be nearly impossible—"
"Damn it, Diamond," Darien interrupted. "When I want easy, I'll hire a first-year law student. Just handle it." There was a loud click in Serena's ear as Darien severed the connection.
She straightened, her mind clouded with amazement. He was really going to do it! Darien was really going to get to the bottom of Mikou's firing! She clutched her hands to her breasts, her heart filling with such gratitude—such affection—she wanted to rush into his arms, kiss him soundly. She'd been so wrong about him. Just because he was rich, tough-minded and successful, didn't mean her couldn't also be a fair, honest man.
She heard a creaking sound and realized Darien must be coming back. Jumping into the bed, she clambered to the far side and slid beneath the covers. A heartbeat later, he entered the room. After another second she heard the phone being replaced in its cradle. A few seconds later he climbed into his makeshift bunk.
Serena covertly shifted her gaze to where he was lying and smiled tremulously at his reclining form. A grateful tear trickled along her cheek. New feelings of softness blossomed in her breast for the man—soft feelings mixed with remorse.
She hadn't allowed herself to face it until this minute, but it suddenly hit her hard in the pit of her stomach. With what she'd learned about Darien Shields in the past week, she'd grown fond of him against her will. And now, with this unexpected noble deed, she feared she might be on the brink of falling…
She squeezed her eyes shut, choking back a moan, unable to even complete the idea in her mind. Such an improbable match was laughable, even to her.
Things are really startin to get movin some direction...question is, is it only onesided...sorry it took so long people, but i actually changed the chap's direction completely...my original had actually gotten a little to out of control...ne ways tell me wat u think...:Kaci
