A/N: Every time I address the romance issue, I manage to muck it up further. Is that going to stop me from trying one last time?

Nope. Of course not!

YES there are some romantic underpinnings to this plot. Many of you had caught words, actions, nuances of attraction here and there. It's just that the romance CAN'T exist between Masen and Bella. Not yet. So, when I say "Don't hold your breath," it's because it's gonna be a while until there is room for that. And when we do get there, it's still not gonna be your typical romance. So. . . in a nutshell. . . Not NEVER. Just NOT YET. Cool? Cool. :)

"Ready for lunch?"

"Do you mean, am I hungry? Because I don't think I can sit next to those creepers and eat."

"Try."

"I know what you're going to say. It's good practice."

"Good girl," Masen grinned down at her. He double checked his pockets for his key card and phone. "Time to try out my new digital recording app."

"Excellent. Although, tagging these two would be simple even without technology. From what you've told me of your Monday appointment with Gibbs, and the shit I witnessed yesterday with Delancy, they aren't very cautious."

"Or very smart. Good thing neither of them is a spy, right?"

"Anything that makes our job easier is a blessing in my book," Bella said as she checked her makeup a final time, then followed her partner out the door.

Fifteen minutes later, the pair was seated in a private bungalow Masen had reserved by the south pool. The glossy teak table could seat six, but was only set for four. Hidden speakers played an easy jazz number in the background, although the notes were often drowned out by the conversation and sounds of splashing from the pool. On the patio, just outside the open French doors, lounge chairs with tropical-print fabric sat in the dappled shade beneath waving palms.

It was so gorgeous, like a scene from a movie. Bella looked past the pool, out across the crystalline ocean waters. Cumulus clouds tumbled and grew taller. They would have late afternoon thunderstorms again, enough to cool the earth and cleanse the air. Right now, though, it was too hot, even in the shade.

When their waiter appeared, the mood shifted instantaneously. Mr. Cullen stood up from the table to talk with him privately. Marie watched a thick stack of bills trade hands. The waiter would keep his eyes and opinions to himself.

Marie stared longingly at the ice water on the table before her. The glass was sweating in the heat, and so was she. She watched a drop of condensation bulge and grow, then break free from the surface friction and drop down the side to pool around the base of the glass. Her master hadn't given her permission to drink yet. He was too busy talking to their waiter and looking out for their guests.

The two men arrived soon after them, dressed in polo shirts and Bermuda shorts. Delancy's eyes sought her out immediately, taking in her tiny, transparent dress and the midnight blue bikini underneath. His smile turned her stomach. She instinctively understood that look. If he had her, he would hurt her. He was a man who often felt powerless around other men. He needed a woman under his thumb to feel strong. Or better yet, a girl.

Mr. Cullen gestured to the table, inviting William Gibbs and the realtor to take their seats. He himself sat directly across from Marie. She didn't know which was worse, being within reach, or feeling his eyes on her constantly.

"I ordered margaritas all around. They'll be right out. Carlos here will take your drink order if there's anything else you want before our food arrives," Edward Cullen spoke smoothly, behaving more civilly than she had even seen him act before.

"Sounds great, Edward. I have to admit, I don't normally take the time to relax like this. It's a real treat. You'll have to let us return the favor sometime soon," William said, with a deep sigh.

William Gibbs was in his forties, blond with a touch of gray and a bit soft around the waist. Essentially, he was completely average-looking. If Marie had to choose between the three men, he was the easy pick. He didn't scare her like the other two did.

"You offered to bring me on board for that project. I think I'm in your debt. I stand to make a lot of money once I close the deal," Mr. Cullen responded, with the hint of a smile on his otherwise hard features.

"In my debt? How do you figure? You're going to make me look good. I shared the proposal you sent me yesterday with the council. They were practically salivating. If you can deliver results anywhere close to as fast as you say you can, you'll be number one on everybody's referral list. There are literally billions of dollars riding on this purchase."

"Even so, I owe you. Perhaps you can both join me for dinner this Friday. Something a little more private, with a bit of professional entertainment, if you will. Regular relaxation is so important," Mr. Cullen drawled.

"I already have an event on my calendar for this Friday," Malcolm cut in, "but I could be convinced to decline my invitation. Will your darling little vixen here be joining us?" His eyes lingered on Marie, even as he addressed her owner.

"Undoubtedly. She rarely leaves my side," Mr. Cullen smirked, no longer so visibly irritated by Malcolm's lecherous behavior. The two men had practically bonded the day before. Malcolm Delancy idolized his newest client and would never dream of crossing certain boundaries without permission. That was all the narcissistic businessman wanted from him anyway.

"Marie, is it?" Gibbs asked, acknowledging her for the first time.

Marie lifted her eyes to his face and nodded. She even managed a small smile. Mr. Cullen required her to smile when people talked to her. It was a poor disguise for the truth, but people saw what they wanted to see.

"Marie," Mr. Cullen addressed her in a coaxing voice, "Come sit with me."

"Yes, sir," she replied quickly, but her movements were slow and stiff from her earlier workout.

When she came around the table, he pulled her into his lap. His hand came to rest on her thigh. He clamped his long fingers possessively over her bare leg. She flinched, but stifled the whimper of discomfort.

"Have a drink," he said, holding his margarita up to her lips.

She swallowed immediately, feeling the tang of lime on her tongue, the cool tingle of the liquor in her throat and the burn of salt on her lips. The other two watched raptly, transfixed by Edward Cullen's complete command of her choices and movements.

"Now give me a kiss."

Marie stiffened in his lap.

"Now."

She swallowed her revulsion and twisted in his lap, tilting her face up to his. His eyes gleamed with anger. She wasn't allowed to hesitate, especially if there were witnesses. The muscles around his eyes tightened infinitesimally, so she leaned in, touching her lips to his, hoping to appease him by her display of submission.

When her skin finally pressed up against his, he didn't kiss her. He bit her. She cried out and recoiled, but his arms were like an iron cage around her. He ran his tongue across her lower lip, tasting her blood and fear. Then he laughed, a playfully satisfied chuckle.

"You are so delicious. Salty but sweet."

Tears ran down her cheeks, stinging evidence of her humiliation. She couldn't even wipe them away. Her arms were still pinned.

"Have a little more, sweetheart," he said, holding the salt-rimmed glass against her bleeding lower lip. "That's right. Good girl," he crooned, as she obediently drank from his glass again.

She'd heard those same words so recently, but in a completely different voice. From Masen's mouth, they elicited pride. In Edward Cullen's voice, they brought only fear. Her lower lip was on fire, the mixture of salt, alcohol and citric acid scorching the place where his teeth had cut her.

"Gentlemen, please pardon her. Marie is very emotional, aren't you my girl?"

She nodded her agreement. That was his only expectation of her. Ever. His will was her command. Her mind and body belonged to him. He had only been telling her the truth when he said she owned nothing. Absolutely nothing.

"You two make such an attractive pair. How did you find her?" Gibbs posed the innocent-sounding question while tasting his own drink. He puckered his lips at first, adjusting to the tart flavor.

"Luck. Fate. I don't presume to know the difference. A business associate of mine was liquidating his assets. I guess you could say I was in the right place at the right time. When I first saw Marie, I'll admit I was skeptical. She wasn't looking her best. But, it was time for a change. I like a certain amount of. . . predictability in my life, if you can understand that. I'm not getting any younger." Cullen shifted the girl in his lap so she was straddling his left thigh, facing the table with her back pressed against his shoulder. He patted her hip and chuckled, "It's worked out well so far."

"I can see that," Delancy broke in. "Don't fault me for feeling a bit jealous. Not everyone has your resources. Some of us are still stuck renting when we'd rather buy. I made the wrong choice at a young age, and it's set me back ever since. Thankfully, the bitch moved to California last year. She eloped with our lawyer, if you can believe it. Good riddance, I say. I'm happy he took her off my hands and left me here in peace."

"Same here, except I was exceptionally stupid, and I got married twice," joked Gibbs. "After I account for taxes and two alimony checks every month, I'm lucky if I can net fifteen G's. If I could go back and change things, I would. But that's the way of it, right? Age brings nothing but stiff joints and regrets."

"Lighten up, William. You've still got plenty of time on the clock. Look at me. I've got almost 20 years on you, and I can still break a filly from the gates. I hope you don't mind, Edward, but William filled me in about your little quest. I hope you are successful, especially if it means your pretty pet comes back on the market. I like her. She's so fresh and innocent."

"Innocent? She might be as simple-minded as a child, but I guarantee she doesn't have a shred of innocence left. I've made sure of that," Cullen boasted.

"Is that why you're in the market again? Getting bored already?"

"It doesn't hurt to see what's out there. New home, new job opportunities, new friends. . . change doesn't have to be a bad thing," Cullen said, raising his glass to toast his two new 'friends.'

Marie zoned out as they continued to talk around and about her. She hoped she was causing her owner some discomfort. She shifted her weight slightly, digging her tailbone into his thigh. He pinched her inner thigh angrily and pushed her off his lap. Just then, Carlos approached the bungalow entrance, pushing a cart laden with dishes.

It hurt, but being free of his touch was worth it. She returned to her own seat as quickly as her stiff muscles would allow her to. Marie worked at making herself invisible, taking small bites of food and alternating them with sips of water. Once the men started talking about business negotiation tactics, they ignored her presence.

The lunch dragged on, and Bella decided to take some initiative. As long as she didn't break character, she was pretty certain she could move around within the immediate area and not raise any eyebrows. She didn't know how Masen could sit there, joking and laughing with the enemy, pretending to be even worse than them. With his friend Gibbs present, Malcolm Delancy had shed some of his sycophantic mannerisms and was becoming bolder with his assessments of the women around the pool deck, interrupting both Gibbs and Cullen with lewd comments whenever a beautiful woman passed by. It was making her feel ill.

Bella stood up quietly and slunk over to one of the lounge chairs. She lay down on one of the chairs. The filtered sunlight and slight sea breeze were more pleasant companions than their sleazy guests. She closed her eyes and listened, hoping one of them would feel bold enough to refer to the Volturi by name. Masen was an expert at manipulating the conversation so that they did most of the talking. He had revealed very little about his character's past or present. Even so, they seemed to dance around the subject of the sex trade, merely alluding to the lavish parties and exotic entertainment they had experienced at the home of a local philanthropist. They hadn't gained any useful intel yet.

"I've been informed by a trusted advisor that I would benefit from adding more write-offs to my annual return. What's the minimum donation?" Mr. Cullen asked in a mildly curious tone.

"Hypothetically?"

"Of course."

"One thousand for a one-day pass. Fifteen for the month. One hundred big ones for the annual membership."

"That much? No wonder you're complaining about running out of money. With those rates, I would assume everyone would go independent."

"Mr. Cullen. . . variety is the spice of life," Gibbs replied with one eyebrow raised. "Besides, as I'm sure you've found, ownership has its limitations. All that additional security, the responsibility, the need for training and discipline. . . And besides, many of my best friends are still padlocked to a missus. It gets complicated. Pleasure a la carte is certainly a valuable service. There is never a shortage of new donors."

Carlos returned with a water pitcher, walking around the table refilling glasses and clearing away plates. He came up next to Bella's lounge chair and set a water glass down on a white napkin on the small side table. She thanked him gratefully. She picked up her glass less than an inch and stopped. There was a note on the damp paper, written in faint pencil.

You're even more beautiful in the sunshine. -D

She sat up straighter, looking furtively around the pool deck. Twenty yards away, Demetri was watching her, a teasing grin on his face. She glanced back over her shoulder. Mr. Cullen was completely absorbed in his conversation.

Bella was stumped. What would Marie do? Would she be scared by the interest of any man, no matter how non-threatening? Or could the attention of a younger man, one who was friendly, cheerful and handsome, be enough to overcome her fear of her owner's wrath should she get caught?

After several seconds wasted in deliberation, she allowed fear to take the lead. With shaking hands, Marie crumpled the napkin and slipped it into the potted palm near her chair. Then she got up and reclaimed her seat at the table without looking back. For a split second, a pair of familiar green eyes met hers questioningly. One heartbeat later, the hardness returned, erasing Agent Masen. She would have to explain her actions in private.

Half an hour later, Bella was leaning toward the bathroom mirror, scrutinizing her cut lip.

"Come here. Let me take care of that."

Bella turned around and leaned against the counter as Masen examined the superficial wound. She thought back to the scene and how surreal it was to blend their imagined characters with reality. If she concentrated too hard on the overlapping personas, Masen/Cullen and Bella/Marie, it was dizzying.

"It's strange."

"What's strange?" Masen asked, as he dabbed peroxide on her lip, then smoothed a thin layer of benzocaine over the cut.

"You don't look like him."

"Who? Edward Cullen?"

"Yeah. I mean, of course, you look like him. You are him. But at the same time, there are expressions and mannerisms that are entirely his, that I would never see on your face. Does that make sense?"

"Absolutely. I feel the same way when I look at Marie. Agent Isabella Swan would never follow orders without talking back." He winked down at her. "If any man tried to treat her the way Edward Cullen treats Marie, he'd lose his left nut. If he didn't back off, he'd find himself experiencing an impromptu circumcision with a blunt blade and no anesthetic."

"Oh my gosh, Masen! Do you have to say everything in the crudest way possible?"

"Umm. . ."

"Nevermind."

"Sorry. What I meant was, you did great down there. You're a very convincing actress. Gibbs and Delancy are in your power, completely under your spell."

"Thanks. That's reassuring," she smiled. "Of course, when I'm in that place, it doesn't feel like that at all."

Masen paused with his hand resting alongside her jaw. "I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"This," he replied, stroking his thumb gently beneath her swollen lip.

"Why would you apologize for that? It's so minor. A week ago I was black and blue from my shoulders to my knees. You've never apologized for hurting me before."

"Of course not," he stepped back and returned to his normal cocky tone. "You deserved those bruises for being such a pain in the ass."

"I think you lost me. Deserved them or earned them? Not that I expect a medal for being a good punching bag or anything," Bella laughed, collecting and straightening their first aid supplies.

"Good, because the Bureau isn't going to be giving out medals for this mission no matter what happens. The details of this operation are going to stay under wraps until we're both in the ground. We've already heard what the Volturi do to people that get in their way. We want to keep your real identity protected as much as possible."

"Keep saying 'we' and I'm going to start thinking you're more like Special Agent Mahardy than you claim."

"Work for the Bureau long enough, you'll be saying it, too."

"Living that long is as good a goal as any with the direction things are going. Oh, and by the way, Demetri slipped me a note. I guess Mr. Cullen isn't the only one who can bribe a waiter."

"Did he now? What did he say?"

"He called me beautiful."

Masen raised an eyebrow. "Beautiful? That's it? He really is a pissant."

"He's a flirt, that's what he is."

"Yeah, flirting with somebody who is obviously off limits. Maybe I should let him talk to you again. If he tries anything, I can pound his ass into the ground. If that doesn't paint Edward Cullen as the type of megalomaniac prick they want, I don't know what will."

"Masen! You can't just beat the crap out of an innocent person because it serves our mission."

"Wake up, Ms. Swan. No man who makes a pass at another man's girl is innocent. I don't care what he assumes about the terms of their relationship. He might not be a criminal, but that doesn't mean he shouldn't have his ass kicked."

Bella ran her tongue over her lower lip worriedly. Edward Cullen was absolutely ruthless. If it came to blows, Demetri would be sporting more than just a sore lip. He was the only person on this entire crazy trip who had tried to intervene and help her. The thought of him paying for that in blood bothered her. And it bothered her even more that it didn't seem to bother Masen at all.

A/N: Every time I see or hear the word "Bothered" I think of Jimmy Fallon's skit called "Edward Cullen is Bothered" where he makes fun of our favorite brooding vampire. Even better was the time when Robert Pattinson was a guest and climbed up in the tree WITH Jimmy Fallon to continue the joke. Gotta love a guy who can laugh at himself. :)