A/N - As you may or may not have noticed, the chapters in this story alternate PoV's between Karin and Elijah, and also does a bit of wrap-around in time. Elijah's PoV started about halfway through Karin's in Ch1, then continued beyond the point in time where that ended. As we now return to Karin's PoV we also return to the point where we left her thoughts, e.g. the end of Ch1.

This is where we left Karin:

A moment later he was back at the driver's side and got into the car, slightly adjusting the legs of his suit trousers as he sat down. Ah yes, those are nice trousers. American chauffeurs are apparently both well behaved and well dressed; I could swear that he's wearing a Hugo. So, make that well paid, also. As he settled into the driver's seat next to me I felt the faint but pleasant scent of Armani Gio mixed with some musky, manly accent that seemed to be all him. Right, add well-smelling to the increasingly long list then.

Oh god, I am staring! Maybe I should try to make light conversation? My English is not perfect, but at least I can try, right?

'So, do you enjoy giving rides to strangers?'
Shit, shit, shit! That didn't sound right!

Chapter 3 - Karin's Ride

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'In this case, I'd thoroughly enjoy 'giving you a ride', Ms. Aigner.'

What? No he didn't just say that! Actually yes, yes he did.

OMFG! Right Karin, get a hold of yourself girl. Perhaps my less-than-perfect grasp of this language meant I misunderstood him. Right, let's see. What other ways could those words be constructed as? Let me think…

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Thinking…

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Still thinking…. AND blushing, yikes!

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Finally, although less than a second had passed it certainly felt like a millennium, I come to the conclusion; There is no other way to construct it that I can think of. This god of a man actually propositioned me. I have to tear my eyes away from his face before he notices that I'm staring!

That's the very moment he chose to break eye contact. With a small smirk playing at the corner of his lips his eyes flickered downwards for a split second, almost as if he was embarrassed and needed to lower his gaze. Like a stupid goose held by invisible restraints that forced me to do whatever he did, my gaze followed his. When it landed in his lap any thoughts of him being demure or embarrassed completely dissipated.

The tailored Hugo slacks covering his lower body no longer fit him as well as they did before. Right between his hips a prominent bulge has appeared, stretching the fabric in a way that could only be described as…

(inappropriate! That's the word you are looking for! IN-A-PRO-PRI-ATE!)

… impressive.

I can't seem to tear my eyes away. My mind is filled with images of what lies behind that thin layer of fabric. How it would feel in my palm, how it would taste, how it would deliciously stretch my pu… No, really! A small shiver run through my body and I can feel liquid desire pool between my legs.

With a jerk of my head I tear my eyes away from his crotch while color rises in my cheeks. I am completely aware of that I've been staring, and just how inappropriate that was. On the way up my gaze briefly passes his hands on the steering wheel. They are large (of course!) and seem to be such strong hands. I wonder how they would feel around my wrists, constricting them above my head while he drives his co… NO!

Finally I am able to pull my gaze away from him altogether, staring out the window while trying to compose myself. I notice right away that my breath is very shallow, escaping my lips in near audible gasps. My panties are thoroughly soaked now; I can almost feel the scent of my own arousal. Oh my god, this is so embarrassing! I decide to roll the window down before the smell of my sex spreads to him. Staring out the window while the hot air from outside fills the car, I finally release the breath I didn't know that I was holding to fill my lungs with fresh air.

With the air it seems as if my sanity returns. Who am I to think that this sex-on-legs love god would be attracted to me? This flirting is probably all part of his job, designed to get a bigger tip. And in the remote possibility that it isn't, if he is actually coming on to me, I'm sure he will let me know soon enough. Instead my mind homes in on the end of his last statement, a wave of longing and loss rolls through my mind along with an image of soft eyes and the safety of a loving embrace. I finally find my voice again, even if it is weak.

'Karin. Please call me Karin. Ms. Aigner was my mother.'

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His soft chuckle at my words makes the passenger seat vibrate. At least I think it does, I can see no other reason why the sound would cause my insides to turn to goo.

'I'm old fashioned enough that referring to a lady by her first name is difficult for me. But, for you, I will try to make an exception Karin.'

Note to self; I thought my insides had turned to goo but apparently the process had barely begun. Said gooifying process completed only at the sound of my name passing those delicious lips of his. Is gooifying even a word? I don't think so, but it should be!

The liquid remains of my insides seem to follow gravity down through my body, finally being caught by the fabric of my panties. Speaking of panties, I'm beginning to regret my choice to don a pair of the lacier, flimsy kind. As the only barrier between the leather seat and my gooified insides this garment is less effective than, say, thick cotton granny panties would have been. They are therefore rather soaked by now, by my… Wait! Did he just refer to me as a lady? Yes, he did, and without making a big deal of it too. Just when I thought I could not feel any mushier, I do.

Did I just run into an old world gentleman in the American South? This was certainly unexpected, but I can't deny that it is a pleasant surprise. I am so giving him my cell number along with the tip. A well-schooled housekeeper and a gentleman chauffeur, it could be a match made in heaven. Gah, I'm getting ahead of myself again! Suddenly I notice his tension and it brings me out of my reverie.

His fingers briefly tighten around the steering wheel, hard enough to cause the leather to groan and his knuckles to pale. Before I am sure it happened, before I could even begin wondering what caused this outburst of tension, he is relaxed again. I am not sure why I feel the polite smile now gracing his features is nothing but a mask, but I am. Without taking his eyes of the road he speaks to me, his smile widening to an almost predatory grin for no more than a split second. 'Your scent is nothing short of… intoxicating right now, Karin.'

At his words my lungs let out a small gasp, bordering on a moan, by their own violation. For a second I freeze in embarrassment, thinking he is referring to the scent of my arousal. But no, he can't be. It's not like an air-conditioned car with the passenger seat window open would allow him to feel such an intimate scent. Despite my logic reasoning there is no arguing that the suspicion stays with me.

A moment later he starts pointing out various landmarks, all situated to our right which is my side of the car. Just as I turn my head to study the specific structure he speaks of, a small movement catches my attention. I do not turn my head and let on that I noticed, but I no longer doubt that he actively tried to draw my gaze away from him. The moment he seems certain that my full attention is captured by the view through my window, the part of me that is still studying him from the corner of my eye sees his hand dive downwards, under his dress pants, to adjust himself. Judging by his movements I gather there is quite a lot there to adjust, too. Another red hot wave of arousal runs through me and my thoughts run wild. Don't be uncomfortable baby. Mama will adjust it for you as many times as you like… Fuck! Get a grip, Karin!

Of course, I pretend not to notice and for most of the remainder of the drive he seems to concentrate on driving. That is, in-between brief stolen glances at me that are followed by a guilty grin whenever he notices that I caught him checking me out. Me, I concentrate solely on NOT jumping him. It would be a sad start to my US residency to have to pay fines for messing up a rental car with various body fluids. I almost shock myself with that thought alone; whenever did I turn into a wanton woman?

We exit the highway and start weaving through the streets of a residential area which clearly houses the rich and famous, at least judging by the size of the mansions barely visible beyond massive and likely electrified gates. I start counting them, just to keep my mind busy with something else than the delectable man beside me. A while after I reached gate number eight since I took up this new pastime, I realize that on the opposite side of the road we have followed a spiky-looking fence for a while now. Either the right side of the road houses a research facility dealing with national secrets, or it is the humongous private property of someone who REALLY enjoys his privacy.

The thought barely has time to pass my mind before my scrumptious driver slows down and turns the car onto a driveway towards the point where an impressive gate breaks the fence. Oh, ok, so not a research facility then…

He lifts his body slightly from the seat and leans out the window to exchange a few words with the uniform-clad guard at the gate, giving me a prime view of his suit-clad behind. Yes, I'm gawking. So? I dare you to show me the (straight) woman who would not gawk when presented with this view. I'm a little bit proud of myself since I did manage to not reach out and pinch one of those muscular buttocks. It took all I had in me, but I kept my hands to myself. Yay me!

Wait, did that guard just salute him before opening the gate? Nah, it's probably just standard procedure when admitting people. Something written into the gate-guards handbook, maybe like this:

Step one: Ensure the arriving vehicle is permitted on the grounds.
Step two: Press button to open gate.
Step three: Stand to attention until said car has disappeared from view.

Yeah, that makes sense, in a twisted kind of way.

I'm running out of time. We are on the private road inside the gate and there is probably less than a minute left before I have to leave this car. I really don't want this to be the last time we see each other, I have to find the courage to say something, and soon! Hell, I don't even know his name – how do I start a conversation without that? 'Hey you!'? No, Karin! No more excuses! Get hoppin', girl! I clear my throat and, as I hoped, he turns his attention to me. I squash every objection from my low self-esteem-riddled self-consciousness. I WILL do this!

'I really enjoyed this ride.' I say, with a small smile telling him that the similarity of this comment to my initial greeting is intentional. He lets out a short chuckle, clearly getting what I'm aiming at. Still, he says nothing; he just regards me intently as the lights from a massive mansion begin to come into view. Only a few seconds left now. His silence brings my nerves back to the surface and I curse my traitorous voice when I can hear it shaking slightly as I continue.

'So…' I pause briefly, only to see him nod encouragingly for me to go on. 'I am going to a dinner party tonight…' Another pause, and still he doesn't make a comment. Damn this man for making me do all the work! I take a deep breath and get it all out before I lose my nerve.

'Wouldyouliketohavedinnerwith mesometimesoon?'

Oh my god, I said it! He doesn't answer immediately. Hell, I spoke so fast that he might not have been able to make out the words. I can't recall ever having felt this awkward. The silence hangs as a thick curtain of embarrassment between us as he pulls the car up to the impressive entrance of the huge mansion that seems to be my destination. It feels like an eternity, even though the whole process probably lasted ten seconds or less, and I am sure he is not going to answer. He never releases me from his gaze while he pulls the car to a soft standstill at the foot of the wide stairs in the front of the building. Once the movement has ceased he carefully tightens the parking break, still staring into my eyes.

Releasing the break-stick, his hand moves towards me and before I know it my own hand is resting in his huge palm. The size difference between our hands is truly baffling. My musing on that subject is cut short when he, still without releasing my eyes (Does the man not need to blink or something?) brings my hand up towards his face while he bows over it in a gesture that has nothing of subservience in it.

In complete control of the situation, of himself, even of me, he touches his soft lips to the back of my hand. The contact sends a shiver through my entire being. I mean it, my entire being. My body shivered, of course, but so did my soul. I have never felt anything like it. Then, finally, he spoke, putting me out of my misery by serving me the words I craved.

'I would love to have dinner with you, sweet Karin, and I am delighted that you feel the same. Who knows, our common wish may come to pass sooner than you might expect.'

With those words he pressed another kiss to my hand and then released it. Was it just my imagination, or did his tongue briefly leave his lips to graze over my knuckles? Before I knew what happened he had not only gotten out of his seat but also moved around the car to open my door; his hand, the same hand that just enveloped mine, reaching towards me to aid my exit from the low-riding vehicle.

I took it, of course, and the flexing of his muscles that aided my shift from seated to standing did not cease until my frame was pressed up against his, our connected hands at the side of my neck and his other hand spread out across my lower back, gently but surely pressing me against him. I think I forgot to breathe for a moment; I certainly lost all awareness of my surroundings as I crooked my neck back to stare into his eyes.

I did not notice the couple by the massive double doors. I did not hear Anna's words of greeting. I did not wonder who the man next to my best friend was, nor stop to consider his uncanny resemblance to my chauffeur. I was lost in his eyes and to my surprise there was a small part of me that never wanted to be found again.

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He leaned towards me and I was sure, absolutely certain, that he was going to kiss me. That's why I could not help the small whimper of disappointment when his lips bypassed mine to instead dip down into the small of my neck. Slowly lifting his head towards my ear he inhaled deeply, almost as if he was trying to… I don't know… scent me? Then his lips were at my ear. The breath he released before finally speaking sent shivers up and down my spine and in the beginning I almost could not make out his words. Once I could, they certainly caught my attention though.

'We have yet to be properly introduced, my sweet. My name is Elijah. Elijah Mikaelson.'

Oh NO he didn't! He didn't just make a fucking James Bond reference, did he? Wait! Elijah? Wasn't that the name of Kol's broth…

Realization came crashing down on me like an avalanche in the Alps, burying me beneath the weight of its suffocating reality. No, no, no no! This isn't happening! I haven't just been treating my possible future employer and brother in law as a CILF (Chauffeur I'd… we'll, you get the picture…)

Ooooooh FUCK! Elijah grinned wide enough to look like the Cheshire Cat. He's obviously completely aware of my acute embarrassment. Then he speaks, and I wish I could just sink through the ground. Even hell must be less painful than this.

'Welcome to my humble abode, Karin. Would you do me the honor of joining me for dinner this lovely evening?'

To his credit, although he obviously enjoys the view of my crimson blush quite a bit too much for my liking, he briefly brushes his lips across mine and then straightens up in a graceful motion, offering his arm to me as a true gentleman. Together we start walking towards the grand entrance of this even grander building.

Wait! His humble abode?

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A/N Yeah... epiphany time for poor Karin. Do we like, so far? :)

How do you think Karn should react to this newfound knowledge?