Chapter 5

Sark thought about last night, the image of Sydney on the floor in the bathroom had been burned into his head. He had been up and heard her in there, heard her vomiting up the contents of her stomach. She had said it was the antibiotics. That they didn't mix well with her. And, after witnessing her in the bathroom, he believed her.

She had been in there for a half hour before he decided to get her the ginger ale. He remembered how his mother used to give him that to drink when he was sick. He had opened the door softly, surprised she hadn't notice. She was sitting on the floor, her head hanging over the toilet. He had wanted to pull her hair back, but resisted the urge. He had gently put his hand on her shoulder, trying not to scare her. It didn't work. She jumped. She turned around, catching his eyes before spinning back around to the toilet.

He had carefully set the can down next to her and quickly exited. He hadn't thought she would want him to stay. She was like him- so he doubted she would have wanted an audience watching her as she threw up. But even while vomiting…she still held an air of confidence and defiance about her, which, in his book, was a rather hard feat to accomplish.

His thoughts flew away as he watched the screen in front of him flash again and again. He was beginning to get hypnotized. Flashing over and over and over- his head snapped up when he heard the door to his office open. Simon walked in. He sat down on a black leather chair, his eyes wondering around the room. They finally settled on Sark.

"You know she's going to find out," he said, his hand playing with a string on his shirt.

"She won't," Sark replied, turning away from Simon's stare. "She can't."

"So, what, you're just going to gain her trust and hope she never finds out?" Simon asked him, an angry tone in his voice.

"What good would it do to tell her?" Sark asked, his tone matching Simon's.

"Does it really matter?" Simon replied, standing up quickly. He started pacing. "She deserves to know. If you were in her position, wouldn't you want to know?"

"I-" he stopped with a sigh, looking back at Simon. "You and I both know that if I tell her, she'll never trust me. And she needs our help. I promised Irina. We both did." The last part made Simon stop. His shoulders slumped.

"Yeah, mate," he said, defeated. Sark was right. They had promised. And he wasn't about to break that. "I just have a feeling…things aren't going to turn out the way we thought."

"I know…" Sark said, his friends thought echoing in his head even after he left, the door shutting behind him. Things aren't going to turn out the way we thought. He didn't think they would…he didn't think they would at all.

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Sydney pulled the sweater tightly around her as she opened the door to her bedroom and went into the hallway. She had finally gotten back to her room last night and gotten some sleep. Now her stomach was growling, but she didn't want to chance any solid food yet. She wasn't inclined to get that close to the toilet again for a long time. She took her last dosage of antibiotics last night, so hopefully all the vomiting would end.

She walked down the hall, a little unsure where things were. She had only been in the bedroom and bathroom. Hell, she didn't even know where she was. She didn't know what country. What city. What house. She walked around the corner, seeing a set of stairs going down. She looked down the hallway, then shrugged, and started down them.

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His muscles bunched as his hands gripped the floor board and pulled. The board came off with a loud screech. He threw it into the trash can next to him, hearing it make a thumping noise as it collided with the others already there. He stretched his arms back, working out the kinks that had formed. He surveyed the room.

It was a big, old, the walls obviously had been torn down, their insides now out. The wood floor in the room was now halfway gone, revealing another wood floor, this one with even bigger, darker boards, clearly very old. The room was sunny; four huge windows lined the wall opposite to him, showing out onto an enormous manicured lawn. He had bought this house from an old man, who had said, 'it needed a little work'.

An understatement of the century that had been, but it was fine with him; it gave him something to do. Something he actually felt good doing, he felt accomplished as he finished one room after the other. The house itself was more then two-hundred years old. It had hundreds of acres of land, almost all of it undisturbed. It was beautiful out there. He glanced back down at the floor and bent down again, grabbing another board in his hands.

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She couldn't stop herself from following the loud noises, it lead her to a doorway. She stopped outside, not wanting to be noticed by the occupant yet. Her eyes widened when she saw who it was. Sark. Sark was ripping up the floor in the room. But not only that…he was also shirtless. She didn't even try to stop herself from admiring him.

Her eyes started from the top down. His blond hair, which now had a fine dusting of dirt covering it, was a dirty blond. The curls were even curly now, the ends coiled from the sweat dripping down his face. Perfect for grabbing- No. She was not going to think about that. Her eyes drifted to his face, which he had just wiped a hand across. There was no denying he was a handsome man. With his blue eyes, strong nose, and that adorable and completely sexy crooked lip that was just begging to be…well, she didn't have anything to complain about in that area.

She moved her eyes downward, stopping at his shoulders. They were good shoulders, strong, straight, and sculpted. Perfect. What caught her eyes next were his arms. He had nice arms. They were defined, they had muscle, but at the same time, they weren't huge muscle-man arms. No- they were more like they were born good-looking, and he just added on and made them, well…really good looking. Her eyes moved to his chest. It looked soft, smooth, but strong. Perfect for running your hands over- get a grip.

He had a flat stomach, a light dusting of blond hair on it leading to…jeans. She sighed mentally. What? Was she expecting him to be removing a floor, naked? No…but it wouldn't exactly have bothered her if he had been. Her eyes moved to his back, which was now staring directly at her. She almost snorted. It just wasn't fair. His back had muscles too. It was a nice back, a very nice back.

Everything about him was perfect…and for some reason, that annoyed her to no end. He was this cocky, arrogant, son of a bitch…and had everything to back it up with. And the worst part- he knew it. He knew he was good-looking. He knew he was a son of a bitch. And he didn't care. Yeah…that annoyed her.

She watched as he brought his hand up and wiped at the sweat dripping from his face. She almost sighed aloud when he started pulling up another board. The muscles in his arms and back bunched, giving her a very pleasant view. She had a thing about backs and arms. Vaughn had nice arms- No. She didn't want to think about Vaughn. She wanted to think about Sark. She stifled a laugh when she realized what she was doing. She was checking out Sark.

Sark.

The cold-blooded killer, the enigma, and the man she had just agreed to work with.

Damn, her life was complicated.

She turned on her heel, heading in the direction she hoped to be the kitchen.

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The direction had turned out to be right, and she was now sitting at a big wooden table, sipping a mug of hot tea. She was gazing out the window located at the front of the table, admiring the lush landscape. She had a feeling they might be in Italy. The grounds outside were beautiful, stunning. But those words didn't even come close to describing them. She had noticed grape vines and what she thought to be an olive tree. Definitely Italy.

Her gaze switched to the door as it opened. Simon walked in. He paused when he saw she was there. They stared at one another, Simon breaking it as he walked over to the fridge and pulled out a bottle of beer. He snapped the lid off and came over to the table, giving her a questioning look. She nodded, and he sat down.

"I didn't know you knew Sark." Sydney finally broke the silence. Her eyes switched from the window to Simon. He laughed.

"Straight to the point, eh?" He asked, grinning. "No foreplay?"

"I figured you wouldn't want to talk about the weather," she said, trying her best to hide her smile. "But, hey, if you want me to beat it out of you…"

"You are one hell of a woman, babe." He said, the grin still covering his features. "But, no, you don't have to beat it out of me. I'll play nice, but only if you will."

"I'll be nice." She said with a sweet smile, bringing her mug to her mouth.

"Why don't I believe you?" He questioned.

"Because you're a smart man," she replied, taking a sip of her tea. They stared at one another again, waiting. Simon took a swig of his beer, then set in down on the table.

"Yeah, I know Sark." He finally said. She waited for him to say more. He remained silent. She watched him as he fiddled with his bottle. He had started to peel the label off. He was…nervous? She didn't know him well enough to know his habits, but she had a feeling he was hiding something.

"For how long?"

"A long time," he said, finishing off his beer. He stood up, threw the bottle into the garbage and came to stand next to her. "Jul and I grew up together. But that's all I can tell you." She stood up, only inches from his face now. Their eyes connected.

"That's all?" She asked quietly, her warm breath brushed across his face softly. She smelled like peach tea. He leaned in closer, his mouth coming to a stop next to her ear.

"Do you really think you're up for this babe?" He asked, lifting his hands up and pulling her sweater open to reveal a tank top. He reached his hand up and brushed the bandage that covered her shoulder. She winced. He pulled back, watching her face. She lifted her chin up defiantly. He gave a small laugh and backed away from her, heading for the door.

"Just like your mother." He muttered quietly before disappearing. She sat back down, too tired to go after him. She would find out what he knew about her mother later. Right now she was just content to sit at the table and drink her tea.