Chapter 4

May 22

Wow, the sneak attack. I didn't think Mr. Uptight had it in him. I really wish I knew what he wants from me, with all this kissing. Not that I mind the kissing, he's quite good at it. But what can he and I possibly have in common? I mean, this guy is killing me. He is the walking definition of snobby, and he's seen pretty up close and personal what I'm about. He can't be seriously interested. I swear, if this guy is just looking for a shag I am totally going to… think about it.

May 22

Need to make reservations at 21 Club. Need to get fit info for Christian Louboutin, something black with straps, probably. Need to decide: Les Miserable in London or Jersey Boys on Broadway? London would be good, then we could take a side trip to Pemberley. That would be best, maybe we should just do that. Need to call Mrs. Reynolds, and Josh about the jet.

"I've extended my trip. Hope you don't mind," Darcy tossed at Bingley as he entered his friend's spacious yet minimalist living room, cup of joe firmly in hand. Caroline smiled behind her demitasse of Gevalia. The Armani God was staying on a little longer… how divine.

"Really? Wonderful! Are you up for sight-seeing then? Jane will be here in a minute, and there is a little open-air market that she's been going on about. We though we'd take it in. Care to join us?" Bingley prattled, surprised by his friend's change of heart but glad all the same.

Caroline studied her Adonis for signs of cracking. A man of his caliber did not go traipsing about in open-aired markets like a common plebeian.

"No, thank you. I'll leave that special treat to the both of you," Darcy answered as he took up the weekend edition of the Journal. Caroline smiled to herself once again. If there was one thing she could count on, it was the fact that William Darcy was nothing if not grade-A, untainted upper crust. Exactly what she expected in a future husband.

"Too bad, then," Bingley replied. "It sounds charming. I do hope that you will get some fun in before you jet back to London."

Darcy's gaze drifted off into middle space as his mind turned over the many versions of fun he would like to engage in on the way to London. Sadly, the doorbell rang, bursting his bubble.

Bingley jumped from the sofa with a speed only found in cheetahs and young men in the rut. Moments later he came back with Jane in tow, and a subtle shade of mauve smudged in the left corner of his bottom lip.

"Hello, Caroline, William," Jane said sweetly as she entered the room on Bingley's arm.

Caroline smiled and rose from her chair, muttering something about Dior and dry cleaners as she left the room. William lowered his paper and gave Jane a nod of greeting.

Bingley offered Jane a cup of coffee, which she kindly accepted, then departed to the kitchen to fetch her a cup. Once he left the room, Jane sauntered nonchalantly over to Darcy and held out her hand.

"Here," she said under her breath as she slid a small rectangular booklet with a yellow post-it attached to its front into his front shirt pocket. Darcy smiled and removed it quickly, flipping the booklet open to see a miniature Elizabeth Bennet smiling back at him. Closing the cover, he noted the post-it and the information written on it. Nodding with satisfaction, he looked up at Jane.

"Thank you," he said simply.

"Anytime," she replied and returned to her place upon the sleek, sterile sofa.

"No sisterly words of warning for me? No "Hurt her and I'll hunt you down" threats?" he quipped.

"Are you kidding?" Jane laughed. "No, wait. I do have one. William Darcy, be careful around my sister. She bites."

Coloring slightly, Darcy muttered under his breath, "I'm counting on it."

Bingley returned from the kitchen with Jane's coffee. Darcy had no wish to sit watch the lovebirds coo over one another, so he politely excused himself to his room. Once safely behind closed doors, he pulled out his cell phone.

"Hello, Christian. It's William Darcy. I am well, and you? Wonderful. Listen, I need a favor. I need a pair of size 7 in something black. What do you suggest? Really? You will call ahead, then, and I can just pick them up there? Perfect, thank you. Yes, she is- quite."

Elizabeth Bennet had never been so nervous about a first date in her life. She still couldn't believe that she had agreed to go out with the pretty boy, though for the life of her she couldn't come up with a good reason not to. So a couple of nasty things had happened when he was around, so what. She was not one to hold a grudge forever. And after all, he was damned cute- among other things. But, even so, there was just something about him that made her insides scream. Now, whether that scream was orgasmic or incensed she had yet to put a finger on.

At two p.m. exactly came the expected knock upon her door. Elizabeth had been ready for over an hour, shocked at her own punctuality and not a little curious at the strange hour he had requested they meet. Jumping up from the sofa, she hurried to the door, pulling herself up short to get a grip before opening it.

"Hello, Mr. Darcy," she smiled, happy her voice sounded much more controlled than she felt. He stood before her, hands behind his back, head slightly dipped, dressed to kill in a sleek pair of wool trousers and dark dinner jacket, his crisp shirt tie-less and slightly unbuttoned.

"William," he corrected as he stepped forward, bringing a large rectangular box from behind his back. It was black and tied up with a dark red bow. Elizabeth's heart skipped a beat. Gorgeous men just didn't go around giving her swanky gifts everyday. She felt a little giddy, and a lot seduced.

"William," she tossed back smartly as she stepped backward into the apartment, gently taking the proffered box. "Thank you. You shouldn't have," she said with all politeness.

"Well, actually, I should have. After all, you said I owed you."

Elizabeth tossed him a questioning look as she took the present over to the sofa and set it upon the coffee table. Sitting down, she motioned for him to join her.

Darcy watched as she slid the ribbon from the box and removed the lid. He smiled as she gasped and pulled a stunning pair of black, strappy shoes from the box. He couldn't have been happier as she gasped again at the sight of the red soles. Kicking off her current shoes, she reverently slipped her feet into her first ever pair of Louboutins. On a cloud, she walked across the room in them, testing their fit. Nothing less than perfect.

"What do you think?" she asked, her eyes alight with joy as she spun carefully- the soft skirt of her black dress twirling about her.

"Perfect," he smiled. She liked them. Contentment settled into his breast.

"I can't accept them, you know," she said wistfully.

"Why ever not?"

"Because I know what these are worth, and they are far more expensive than the pair that broke. But I do thank you for the chance to have tried them on," she answered, slipping the shoes off with as much reverence as she had while putting them on.

"Elizabeth, I had those set aside especially for you. No one else will have them, so if you don't want them they are going straight into the rubbish bin."

She gave him the "Yeah, right," eyebrow.

"I am not joking," he continued, deadpan.

Elizabeth looked again at the condemned shoes. Well, if it meant saving a life.

Slipping them back on, she leaned down and kissed him softly. "Thank you."

Darcy coughed slightly and smiled at her again. "We better go," he said, " we've a plane to catch."

"Plane?" Elizabeth stepped back, suddenly confused.

"Yes, plane," he answered as he rose from the sofa and straightened his jacket.

Elizabeth was taken aback, and a small part of her wanted to demand an answer, but over the years she had learned that being sassy 24/7 got her where she was today. Alone. Maybe it would be okay to kick back just once and go with it. It wasn't every day that she was whisked away on a plane to some surprise destination for a date with a gorgeous, wealthy man.

Elizabeth felt as if she was caught up in a whirlwind, as they sped from her apartment in a hired car toward a private airfield just outside the city. Little was said between them, as Darcy made a series of calls on his cell phone. She would have been put out by his inattention if her eavesdropping hadn't informed her that he was finalizing arrangements for their flight. But try as hard as she might, she could not figure out where they were going.

As she watched the city skyline whiz by, Elizabeth tingled with anticipation. She had never felt so spoiled before. Most of her dates had been one step above an evening of bowling and McDonalds. This was almost magical in comparison, and the thrill of it all gave even the familiar sight of her hometown a fresh appeal.

In no time, the car pulled through the gates of the airfield. A sleek jet sat patiently upon the tarmac, the slender rollaway stairs poised at the ready- waiting to lead them from the mundane world into the enchanted unknown. As the car came to a stop a short distance from the jet, Darcy opened his door and stepped out. Turning, he reached back inside and offered Elizabeth his hand. She accepted it, and stepped from the car as well. Pausing a moment before moving on to the plane, Elizabeth looked around her and wondered if Jackie O. had ever had it better.

A trim flight attendant stepped forward to greet them as they entered the cabin.

"Good afternoon," she welcomed them with a smile, which Elizabeth endeavored to return but was quickly distracted by the subtle elegance of the plane's interior. She had never been intimate with the likes of Lear or Gulfstream, had never felt the need to drop such names at cocktail parties, but she was sure that her limited knowledge of the finer points of air travel would not diminish the major league enjoyment she was about to get out of her first experience on a private plane.

While Elizabeth walked ahead, running a hand over the buttery cream-colored leather of the oversized seats, Darcy spoke quietly with the flight attendant assuring that all was as he had ordered it. The woman confirmed that his requests were fulfilled to his specifications, then turned to secure the cabin.

"Having fun?" Darcy asked as he watched Elizabeth twirl in her chair like a little girl.

"Oh, yeah," she smiled as she sank deeper into the leather, closing her eyes and sighing with contentment. Darcy took a seat in the next chair and turned it to face her. Feeling his gaze settle upon her, Elizabeth cracked open an eye.

"Any chance of you telling me where all this leads?"

Darcy's mind took a sudden and swift plunge into the gutter, and he choked a moment on the answer that cheekily wanted to fly from his mouth.

"Oh my god!" Elizabeth exclaimed, catching the drift of his mind in the look of his eye and snapping to attention at the edge of her chair. "What kind of girl do you think I am?"

He winced, because he had been caught dead to rights in a very naughty thought process. He had not been gutter surfing when he had arranged the whole evening, but her wording had caught him very much off guard and now he was going to have a hard time convincing her otherwise. But he was not one to give up too easily.

"I'm not sure yet, Elizabeth. Why don't you tell me what kind of girl you are?" He leaned toward her just a fraction. An engaging tension began to build between them as they held each other's gaze. In all honesty, Elizabeth wasn't sure exactly what kind of girl she really was right at that moment.

"International woman of intrigue. I could tell you, but then I would have to kill you. And I would hate to make a mess of such a lovely plane," she smiled and sat back in her chair, crossing her legs with a sultry slowness.

The flight attendant interrupted any further conversation to inform them that the captain was preparing for take-off.

"Is there something I should do?" Elizabeth asked, looking around herself for anything that seemed to need doing. Darcy reached out and turned Elizabeth's chair, then locked it in place for her before doing the same for himself.

"Just buckle up, James Bond," he drawled.

The engines roared to life as the plane pushed forward down the long strip of tarmac, building the speed necessary to break free of gravity's demanding pull. A sudden bout of nerves caused Elizabeth to grip her armrest.

"Scared?" Darcy asked, covering her hand with his own.

"Take-offs just aren't my favorite. I'll be fine in a moment," she answered. The plane surged forward, finally leaping elegantly from the earth- thumbing its multi-million-dollar nose at the ground that receded below it. Though expected, the transition still made Elizabeth's stomach drop. She grabbed Darcy's hand for support, and he wove his fingers through hers, squeezing gently. She felt herself relax as the plane gained altitude and began to level out.

"Better now?" he asked, rubbing small circles on her hand with his thumb.

"Yes, much."

The attendant appeared again, bringing a tray of beautifully arranged tidbits and setting it upon the sleek mahogany table that was bolted before their chairs. She then went out again, and returned with a bucket of ice, a bottle of wine and two fluted glasses.

"Anything else, Mr. Darcy," she asked crisply as she added the wine and glasses to the table.

"No," he replied, "this is wonderful. I can take it from here."

"I will be in the cockpit if you should need anything. The captain estimates that flight time should be around three hours."

"Thank you," Darcy nodded. With a smile, the attendant disappeared to the front of the plane.

"Three hours?" Elizabeth inquired. "Are you planning on telling me where we are going, or will I have to sit here and stew in suspense?"

"Would you like some wine? And here, have something to eat," he deflected, popping open the bottle and pouring the dark liquid into each of their glasses.

"No hints even?" she prodded.

"We have three hours, Elizabeth. I'll think about it and get back to you," he answered, smiling mischievously.

She contemplated his face as she sipped her wine, not only searching it for clues but also for deeper signs of his character and intent. He was very handsome, she liked that about him for sure. But she wasn't so shallow that looks and money would sway her into a bad decision. She really hoped there was more to him.

"So, do you own this plane?" she asked first, watching him closely for signs of the braggart. Nothing was more repulsive than a man who flaunted his wealth.

"Yes," he answered simply.

"It is beautiful. It must have cost you a fortune," she pushed a little further.

"I found that, with the amount I travel for work, it actual saves me money in the end. It also saves the pride of many an airport employee, as I can be very irritable when faced with long queues, flight delays and body cavity searches. I've never been fond of those."

Elizabeth laughed.

"So, I know that you have one sister- Jane. Do you have others?" he asked, beginning an inquest of his own.

"I have four sisters altogether," she replied.

"Four? Impressive. No boys?"

"No boys."

"Your father must have been overrun," he laughed.

"You don't know the half of it," she groaned.

"And you? Are you youngest? Oldest?"

"Second oldest. Jane is older. After me comes Mary, Kitty and then… Lydia," she ended flatly.

"Trouble?"

"And how. She's all of 15 going on 30 and taking Kitty with her. Mary, well her only problem is a penchant for the eccentric."

"And your parents? Tell me about them," Darcy urged.

"How about I don't and say I did," was her only reply.

"I'm sorry, did I hit a nerve?"

"No. Its just that… well, I have this theory."

"Do tell."

"Okay," Elizabeth said, slipping off her shoes and tucking her feet underneath her as if settling for a good story. "My theory is that God gives people parents like mine so that they don't get too comfortable at home. Its far easier to leave the nest."

"Were they mean?" he asked carefully, not wanting to dig at a wound if one existed.

"Oh, no. Not even close. Don't get me wrong, I love them dearly. Its just that they are the kind of people you don't want to be caught out in public with," she laughed.

"Ah," he replied, relieved. "That bad?"

"There is a good side. Without their special brand of craziness, I would not be the independent woman I am today. But, enough about me. How about you? Do you have any siblings?"

"Yes, one. A much younger sister. Georgiana," he said, his voice laced with fondness.

"I can tell you are fond of her. How old is she?"

"Sixteen."

"And you still like her? That is a miracle," Elizabeth teased.

"She's a sweet girl," he answered with pride. If he had any tendency toward bragging, Elizabeth decided, then it would in this area, and she could find no fault in it.

"Your parents are lucky to have it so easy, then," she teased once more.

Darcy's smile dropped slightly as a faint melancholy settled behind his eyes. Elizabeth caught on immediately and felt like a heel.

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

"No, please. You didn't know. They've been gone for several years now," he responded, grabbing her hand to assure her she had not offended him.

A few moments of uncomfortable silence passed between them, which each tried to fill with bites of cheese laden crackers and sips of wine. Feeling a need to break the tension, Darcy asked about Elizabeth's work, and they soon fell back into an easy conversation. For levity, Elizabeth hinted a little about Mr. Lucas and his crazy love life- explaining the need for the gossip rags, but when Darcy tried to pin her down about the object of her employer's affection she deflected by saying it was not her story to tell.

A lapse in conversation brought them to their third uncomfortable moment of the evening, but this time the tension was more erotic in nature. During Elizabeth's tale of her boss's troubles, Darcy found that his eyes had drifted from her laughing eyes to her lips. Her easy manners, and the relaxing properties of the wine, had loosened him up a little. His eyes drifted about her face as she laughed, taking in her features and finding them more than pleasing. She was different, with her strange band, her flip remarks, and the fact that his money didn't make her knees buckle and her eyes bat. She was a good kind of different. Hell, he might even venture to say she was the best kind of different.

Sometime during his quiet speculation she had stopped talking. He hadn't noticed when exactly. What really captured his attention was the alluring way her tongue suddenly stroked her top lip. It pulled him forward from his chair like a magnet. On his knees before her he leaned into her, seeking to capture that tongue with his own. And he did, with soft, spiraling sweeps. The power of his blood, pushed through his veins with the supercharged beating of his heart, stoking him like a fire. And her response! The way her lips melted and merged with his own, her fingers darting into his hair, around his neck, pulling him into her- drove him on.

With raw nerves, his hands slipped around her hips, pulling her forward into him, the shift of her body and their connection at the lips moving him further over her. In a soft, curvy sweep, Elizabeth drew a leg over his hip and he lost it. He ran a hand over it, never leaving her mouth, reading the soft skin of her upper thigh like a blind man reads Braille. It was when his fingers hit the rough, lacy top of her thigh high stockings that he was truly undone. He growled against her lips, his blood heated beyond his control. Sitting back from her, he pulled her hips toward him again and ran his hands over the fabric of her skirt, then under it pushing it softly, slowly upward- his eyes following the progress of her hem, all the while watching for the lace. Damn but did he love a well-turned pair of stockings.

Elizabeth sat back, breath ragged with want as Darcy ran his hands over her. He was hitting all the right notes with her, and she couldn't care less at that moment how fast things were moving. This man knew where and how to touch her, and that was a rare thing indeed.

As his hands slid higher, the top of her stockings were revealed. A little further yet and her silky thigh came into view. Slowly, he bent down and kissed her upon that delicious piece of flesh. And for him, the earth moved.

It did for Elizabeth, as well.

And the attendant.

And the captain.

In seconds, Darcy was sprawled on his ass on the cabin floor, wondering what hit him. Over the speakers, the captains voice rang out.

"Mr. Darcy, sir. We just lost engine two. We are going to have to go in for an emergency landing."

"Corfu!" Elizabeth heard Darcy growl as he left the cockpit and he pulled out his cell-phone while they rolled to a stop on what looked to be a small airstrip. "How did you overshoot England altogether?"

She began to worry a little as she watched Darcy pace back and forth from the cockpit to the kitchenette, rubbing his forehead in agitation. If he was so worried, maybe she should be as well.

"Josh, this is Darcy. We have a problem. I need you to call me as soon as you get this message," he spoke curtly into his phone then disconnected, typed another number and shoved the phone back to his ear.

"Bingley. Hello. Not well really, we have ended up in Corfu. Corfu. Yes, the island just off Greece. I have no idea. What? We blew an engine. Wait, listen, please. I've left a message for Josh, would you please try to reach him for me as well. Yes, we are fine. Yes, tell Jane that she is fine. The plane landed safely, but we need Josh here as soon as possible. Thank you, Charles. You are a good friend. I will, thank you."

Elizabeth watched as Darcy pocketed his cell, straightened his jacket, took a deep breath and approached her. The attempts at a comforting smile played upon his lips.

"Well," he started tentatively, but obviously the internal script ended there, because he was left shifting his weight and running his hand through his hair.

"Well," she replied shakily.

"I am almost of the mind that you are right. About the whole jinx thing," he laughed uncomfortably.

"Are you now?"

"I'm very sorry. This is not at all what I had in mind. London, Les Mis, dinner- that was what I had planned. Not this." As he spoke, he paced, tension flowing head to toe like a current. Elizabeth felt pity on him, because really this wasn't his fault. He had been planning on taking her to London for the evening. Besides Paris, what could be more romantic? And just before the cursed engine malfunction… hello, what a before! No, she would reserve judgment and give him a fair shake. So long as she could get something to eat before the night was out- and things did not get worse.

"Where did you say we are?" she asked.

"Corfu. Do you know it?" he replied.

"I've heard of it, have seen pictures. How long until help comes?"

"It all depends on when I hear back from my assistant, Josh," he answered distractedly, his mind returning to the problems at hand.

"Are we stuck here until he calls?"

"Well, I… what do you mean? You mean go out? You want to go out?" he asked, confused.

"I've never been to Corfu," she smiled, hoping to persuade him. Being so close to something she had never experienced before was like being a child again on Christmas morning.

"Its dark here, I don't know how much you will actually get to see," he hesitated. There was nothing he was familiar with here, though he had visited once before in his college days.

Elizabeth stepped forward and touched his arm. "Please, William. This whole emergency landing thing has worked up my nerves. Can we just go take a look around while we wait? You have your cell with you. And besides, I'm starving."

"Of course," he jumped into action. Elizabeth was hungry, this he could fix. Between the attendant and the captain, the door was opened and another thin staircase was rolled into place. The warm air, tinged with the salty bite of the Ionian Sea, welcomed them as they emerged from the plane. Elizabeth breathed in deeply. She had visited the beaches of Florida growing up and was familiar with the smell of sea air, but this was different.

They were quickly ushered through a small terminal, through customs, through an interesting blend of locals and tourists until Darcy spotted the exchange counter where he quickly converted some currency. Pushing the final way out of the terminal, they were free and clear and back out in the open air. Again Elizabeth breathed heavily, knowing she wouldn't have much time to soak in the experience and wanting to make the most of it.

Once outside, Darcy's cell began to ring. It was Josh, and he was contrite. He swore that he would have a car for them at the terminal in five minutes and that dinner reservations and a hotel for the evening would soon follow. As for the plane, he could have that looked at first thing in the morning, but if that was not soon enough he could arrange seats on the first commercial flight out of there, first class of course. Darcy ran that past Elizabeth, who said "Dinner now, everything else later."

True to his word, Josh's hired car was there within five minutes. A trim, olive-skinned man with gorgeous dark hair hopped out of the car and opened the door for them. He smiled with that special, indescribable beauty that graced the people of Greece. Elizabeth felt herself blush a little as his eyes lit upon her.

Soon they were speeding away, weaving between compact cars and mopeds, down impossibly small and crowded streets lined with gaily light eateries and night spots. Elizabeth peered out her window at the three and four storied hotels, balconies overflowing with youth laughing and yelling to one another.

"Where you go?" the driver turned and asked. His passengers tensed, sure that his inattention to the road would be the end of them.

"We need to eat," Darcy called back.

"Oh, yes. Very nice. I know just the place," the driver answered with exuberance.

Josh rang again as the car zipped through the crazy mélange. It seemed that all of the better hotels were booked solid, but he was able to book rooms for them at a place called the Pink Palace. Darcy savored that name like it was a mouthful of freshly squeezed lemon juice. At best, it sounded like a gay romp in the park, at worst…

As for dinner, Josh's quick arrangements were soon overridden as the car pulled up before a quaint, brightly lit restaurant that offered outdoor seating with white tablecloths and everything. The driver turned to the couple and smiled.

"Here we are. This, very good. You will like very much," he smiled, again, in a way that made Elizabeth's face grow very hot.

"No, wait," Darcy answered, still in discussions with Josh. "We need to go to Kato Korakiana, the Etrusco."

"No, you eat here. Trust me!" the driver insisted.

"No, really we have reservations at the Etrusco," Darcy stated firmly, not wanting to get into a debate with the man.

"Here is fine," Elizabeth cut in, opening her door.

"Elizabeth?" Darcy caught at her hand, trying to pull her back into the car.

"I'm starving, and this looks great. Besides, I can probably get in there, eat and be back before you two finish fighting about it."

"But you don't have the right money," he argued.

Elizabeth slipped her hand into her purse and pulled out a credit card. "Visa is everywhere I want to be," she quipped and pulled away.

Darcy grumbled and groused as she walked toward the restaurant, then turned to the driver. "Here's fine. We will be done in an hour, then we need to go to the Pink Palace. Do you know it?"

"You go there?" the driver's smile widened.

"Yeees," Darcy drawled suspiciously.

"I know it. I'll take you, no problem."

Darcy exited the car with a sense of pending doom. That had gone way too easily.

He joined Elizabeth just as she was being approached by the waiter. They were seated outside and offered a carafe of the house wine. Where Darcy hesitated, Elizabeth jumped right in and found the offering delightful. Sweet, with a hint of apple.

Elizabeth had no idea what to order, so asked the waiter what he suggested. He seemed to know just what to bring them. She sank back into her chair, savored the wine, and settled in for some great people watching. Darcy fidgeted uncomfortably with his napkin.

"You need to relax," she said without looking at him.

"Probably so."

"Have some of the wine, its very good," she said as she passed him the carafe.

"No, thank you."

"Loosen up, Senor Snobby, and try something new. We have a whole new experience right here before us. I, for one, will be making the most of it. Goodness knows when I will ever get to do something like this again," she smiled and lifted her glass, winking at him as she sipped.

Darcy poured some wine and tasted it. It really was not bad. Not bad at all.

"You really see it that way? Because all I see at this point is ruination of a well laid plan," he muttered.

"Yes, I see it that way exactly. Tell me something. Why did you want to take me to London?"

"Because I wanted to share it with you," he said quietly.

Her pulse sped up a little, and she reached out and touched his hand. "We could share this. It could be a great adventure instead of a disastrous trip," she said seriously.

"True," he succumbed to her optimism, taking her hand in his and holding it softly.

Dinner came in three courses, and each was made more delectable by good conversation and a renewed appreciation for the uniqueness of their surroundings.

An hour flew without notice, and soon the car pulled to the curb within sight. Darcy and Elizabeth quibbled over the bill, with him showing her that, though Visa may be accepted everywhere she had a Capital One card and that wasn't going to fly. He then threw down enough to cover dinner as well as a substantial tip. The couple was warmly thanked as they left.

They sat in comfortable silence as the car whizzed through the darkened countryside from Corfu Town to Agios Gordios. The wine and the smooth ride lulled Elizabeth, and before she knew it she out like a light.

When she finally awoke, she found they had come to a stop outside an immense, sprawling series of buildings that glowed coral and white in the light of the halogen lampposts. The driver turned. "Welcome to the Pink Palace."

"Glorified youth hostel," Darcy muttered under his breath as they left the check-in counter some fifteen minutes later. Elizabeth was laughing heartily, her room key swinging merrily in her hand.

"There you go again with the doom and gloom. Its just one night of your life, lighten up," she teased. "Or do you think you are going to catch a bad case of common if you rub elbows with a few backpackers?"

Darcy was about to respond, but was cut off.

"Oh, look!" Elizabeth grabbed his arm and pointed toward the left where an open door revealed a smallish nightclub setting. Colored lights flashed erratically as a wildly pulsing beat boomed from large speakers throughout the room. A mass of bodies danced with abandon as the strains of some song circa 1970 was overlaid with a fast modern beat.

"No," Darcy said firmly. He had his limits, after all.

"Yes," she smiled and tugged at his arm.

"No," he said again, grabbing her hand and pulling back.

"Oh, come on. Live a little," she tugged again.

"Not no, Elizabeth, but Hell No," he returned the tug.

She frowned, "Just a little dancing? A very little?"

"I don't dance."

She grabbed his lapels and pulled him to her. "Yeah, but I do," she drawled saucily. "What else is there to do right now? Please?"

He caved. Like a cheese soufflé.

Elizabeth pulled him onto the floor and slipped her shoes off, holding them possessively in one hand as she bounced along with the crowd around them. Darcy grimaced and looked around at the eclectic group of people surrounding them. Then the song changed.

"Is that… Sesame Street?" he shouted, trying to be heard over the raved out theme of the well-known children's television show.

"I think so," Elizabeth laughed as a nearby group of young women hooked her arms and pulled her into an impromptu line dance. She threw Darcy a delighted look as she passed him by, and had a complete fit of giggles as she saw the girls drag him along soon after. The girl on his left told him several times to smile, in multiple languages just in case, while the girl on his right showed him how to kick his legs out in time to the music. His sad first attempts had them all in stitches, and he finally broke down and laughed at himself as well.

Just as Darcy was catching the rhythm, the song ended and an older man called for attention from the center of the room. People parted like the Red Sea and formed a large ring around one Dr. George as trays of ouzo were passed around for the taking. Elizabeth smiled and shrugged her shoulders as they listened the man talk of old times, then break out into traditional dance while drinking his ouzo and tossing plates upon the floor. Everyone yelled along with his performance and drank ouzo in abundance. It was hard to fight the contagious exuberance of the crowd, so Darcy gave up trying. The sheer delight on Elizabeth's face taught him a valuable lesson that evening. With the right company, fun could be had wherever you were.

A few more songs, a few more shots of ouzo and even Elizabeth had had enough. Arm in arm they strolled languidly toward their rooms. Stepping outside the main building, they turned right toward another when a long, sleek black car pulled up not ten feet away. A swarthy youth jumped out and opened the back door, and a pair of tanned, shapely, incredibly long legs emerged from the silky darkness. Elizabeth hesitated, wanting to see, in that innate critical way that women possess, just what kind of woman would follow those legs out. It didn't take long before she got her answer. Nordic Princess.

Cool, blond, svelte, sickening. The impeccably clad, perfectly manicured goddess slipped from the car and floated on her impossibly long legs straight for them. Darcy halted, and as Elizabeth examined his face for his reaction to the blonde bombshell she saw recognition in his eyes. Self-preservation kicked in, and she stiffened and slid her arm away from his. She had no idea who this chick was, but she didn't like the way things were shaping up so far.

Without a word, and without giving Darcy a chance to say any either, the woman sidled up to him and planted on hell of a kiss upon his unprepared lips. Once satisfied, she pulled back slowly and smiled.

"Caroline!" he said in shock.

"Darling, I've come to save you," she purred.

Darcy turned toward Elizabeth, to explain what must have looked pretty nasty from her perspective. But she was gone.

"Save me?" Darcy snapped distractedly as he turned right and left, looking for Elizabeth.

"You are in Corfu, William. Need I say more?" Caroline watched him with interest. This was a side of Darcy she had never seen. One where his usual iron-clad composure and impeccable manners were absent. The possible reasons made the hair stand up on the back of her neck.

Without a word, Darcy stalked off toward the rooms, climbed the staircase to the second floor, and following the numbers, found Elizabeth's door just two down from his own. He knocked- no answer. He tried the handle- locked. He knocked again and called her name- nothing. Looking over the railing of the open-air walkway outside the long row of doors, Darcy scanned the surrounding area from his higher vantage point. The only signs of life were a few drunken couples staggering of toward their own rooms and Caroline, who stood patiently below studying her nails under the orange tinge of the halogen street lamps.

He knocked on Elizabeth's door again but came up with the same. Frustrated, he strode back down the stairs and to Caroline.

"Problem?" she said sweetly upon his return.

"Did you see which way she went?" Darcy asked brusquely.

"Who?"

"Elizabeth?"

"Who?" Caroline repeated, raising her eyebrow in mock confusion.

"The woman that was just with me," he barked, loosing what little patience he had left.

"I didn't see anyone," she purred as she stepped forward and ran a hand softly down the lapel of his jacket.

Darcy pushed her hand away and rubbed his forehead in irritation.

Caroline stepped even closer to whisper in his ear. "William, you are making a fool of yourself over a nobody. Come on, I'll take you home where you belong."

"Why are you here?" Darcy asked in irritation as he stepped back away from her once again.

"Because Charles said you were in trouble, and, well frankly William I have far more connections than your assistant does. So, while Josh is still back home trying to arrange a commercial flight for you I'm here in person with a private plane to save you from a fate worse than death," Caroline smiled seductively.

"Fate worse than death?"

"Yes, darling. Social suicide. I can just see it now… 'William Darcy seen canoodling with low rent chippie at one star hotel'. What will your Aunt Cathy say?"

"Low rent chippie?" A third voice chimed in behind William. He spun around to face the ticking time bomb that was Elizabeth.

"Another country heard from," Caroline muttered under her breath.

"Where did you go?" he asked, grabbing her hand and pulling her closer.

"You have the key to my room. The front desk won't give me another. May I have it, please?" Elizabeth's voice was cold and controlled as she pulled her hand away from his grasp.

"I'll walk up with you. We need to talk," Darcy said, glad to not only have a chance to settle things with Elizabeth but to get away from Caroline as well.

"William," Caroline interrupted sharply.

"Shut it, Caroline and go home. I don't need anymore of your help," he snapped as he took Elizabeth's arm and began to pull her away from the scene.

"So, is this how you talk to women, 'Shut it, Caroline'?" Elizabeth snapped as well, snatching her arm away from him once again. "I'll take that key, now, and you can stay the hell away from me."

"You should give her the key, William. The girl is obviously very upset. She's resorting to profanity," Caroline interjected smugly.

"What?" Elizabeth cried, turning to frown at Caroline who smiled sweetly in return.

Darcy stepped between the women and reclaimed Elizabeth's attention.

"I just need a chance to explain things without the interruptions. Okay? Can we please go up and talk about this privately?" Darcy hadn't realized before that he still had Elizabeth's key, and as it was now his only bargaining chip he was not about to just hand it over.

"I've got an idea," Elizabeth's voice dripped with sarcasm, "how about you give me that key. Then I will find my own way home, you can fly off in your nice, cushy private jet. And then we can pretend we never met. How does that sound?"

"Wonderful!" Caroline butted in, again. "Smart girl. Lets go, William." She slipped her arm through his and pulled him toward her waiting car.

"Caroline, I swear…" he began furiously, removing himself from her grasp.

"You swear what, William?" Elizabeth prodded.

"Nothing. She just needs to stay out of this. As a matter of fact there would be no 'this' if she had not come at all," he growled in frustration.

"Oh, okay, I get it. You are done with her so she can just get right the hell out of dodge. Was she last week's girl and I'm this week's girl? Is this what I have to look forward to?" Elizabeth bit back, planting her hands firmly upon her hips.

William raised his eyes to the heavens in desperate hope of help, but God chuckled and left him to dig himself out of this hole.

"I am most certainly not 'last week's girl'!" Caroline snapped indignantly, feeling the need to set the record straight with this little upstart- even if the girl was coming to her defense more often than not.

"So you go around kissing men who are obviously out with other women as a rule then?" Elizabeth said, swinging her full attention and sarcasm at the statuesque harpy.

"It just so happens that William and I are very old, very dear friends. Not that its any of your business," Caroline smiled smugly.

"Acquaintances, Caroline. Nothing more," Darcy interjected

"Then its just a case of bad manners," Elizabeth gave back, ignoring Darcy entirely.

Caroline nearly choked at the allegation. "Bad manners? As if!" She barked before changing gears. "Though I'm sure you wouldn't know any other kind if they smacked you in the face."

"Now that's enough, Caroline" Darcy tried to cut in, but he was woefully late.

Elizabeth crossed deep into Caroline's personal space. "I dare you," she taunted. Though she was certain the haughty cow would back down, Elizabeth was so amped up that she dearly hoped that Caroline gave her a reason to take a swing.

Darcy, concerned at the tone this argument was beginning to take, stepped between the two overheated women just in time… for Caroline to send resounding slap across his right cheek. He stepped back stunned.

"Oh, William… darling! I'm so sorry," Caroline's hands flew to her mouth, shocked and horrified by her mistake.

"Oh no you didn't!" Elizabeth cried, just as concerned that Darcy had just taken a hit for her as she was that Caroline had actually intended to slap her. Without further thought, Elizabeth dropped her shoulder and ran full-steam into Caroline's mid-section, plowing her right into the still warm parking lot. Elizabeth had the distinct advantage, as she landed atop her prey, but before she could get off a good, strong slap of her own, Darcy grabbed her hand and stopped her. With one hand around her wrist and one arm around her middle, he hoisted her from Caroline, thus leaving her wide open for attack.

Caroline, whom to many an outsider would appear to be the quintessential snob, had one advantage that Elizabeth did not possess- years of growing up with an older brother. And though Caroline's family gave the world the impression they were old money, they were in fact very new money and the majority of her youth had been spent fighting with her brother on the family's farm in Nebraska.

So, knowing a good opportunity when she saw one, Caroline went for it with a decided sucker punch to Elizabeth's solar plexus. Sadly, Darcy's arm was in the way and her blow glanced off his forearm causing him to release Elizabeth with a yelp of pain.

Poor Caroline. All those years on the farm, with her brother had not prepared her for the girl who, though she had only sisters in her immediately family, had spent her whole life amongst football player cousins who had dubbed her very early in life as "the Terminator".

Sadly for Caroline it was on like neckbone.

In a whirl of knees and elbows, flying hair and scratching fingernails, the two women fought to the death. For one brief instant Caroline broke away and fled for her life toward the main building, ducking inside by the front desk just as Elizabeth grabbed her for round two. Helplessly, Darcy ran after them, looking for any opportunity to intervene.

Within moments, the women were pushing through the office areas and into the club, where the evening's drunken revelers slowly took note of their scrabble and formed a ring around them- hooting and hollering to egg the women on. Darcy found himself swept up in the mass of people, unable to reach the women to help.

Having gone the distance from the parking lot to center of the club's dance floor, Elizabeth and Caroline found themselves running out of steam. But both were determined not to back down.

"What's the matter, Carrie? Scared you are going to break a nail," Elizabeth huffed and puffed, taking one pathetic swipe at a too distant Caroline.

"No body but my brother calls me that," Caroline spat back, mimicking Elizabeth's wasted swing.

"Oh? And who is your brother? Because I'll have my little sister call him up so she can kick his ass, too!" Elizabeth wheezed as she kicked her leg out, pathetically missing again.

"That's Charles Bingley to you, you upstart. And he's way out of your family's league," Caroline snapped back, bending over at the waist to catch her breath.

"Charles Bingley? You are Charles Bingley's sister?" Elizabeth stopped her assault and looked at her enemy in sudden awareness. Her mind flashed back to overheard conversations between Darcy and his friend and the jokes made at Caroline's expense. She began to chuckle, then guffaw, then out right belly laugh until she fell into a tired heap on the floor.

"What's so funny?" Caroline demanded with as much energy as she could muster.

"Charles… is… is dating… my sister, Jane," Elizabeth forced out.

"Jane? You are that Elizabeth?" Caroline gasped as much from lack of air as surprise. "I love Jane!"

"She's great, huh?" Elizabeth concurred. "Your brother is wonderful, too. They are a matched set."

"Absolutely. I had no idea that you were that Elizabeth," Caroline sagged into a nearby chair as the now bored crowd wandered back to their drinks and partying.

"Back at you," Elizabeth laughed again as she pushed her self up from the floor and fell into a chair next to Caroline. Catching a passing waitress, she asked Caroline's preference for drink and ordered them a round. It was there that Darcy found them, swapping stories about their siblings like long lost friends. Confused, he looked around the room hoping to locate the portal that had beamed him to the twilight zone- in hopes that he could rush back to reality before the damned thing disappeared. As fate would have it, he was too late.

Within the hour, two very battered and bruised new friends and one very sullen and confused man flew back to New York from Corfu.