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Chapter 10: Decisions:

Draco waited for Hermione to meet him in front of the door of the day spa. He paced back and forth, pondering everything that she had said to him. She was worried. She was worried if their relationship would last beyond the weekend.

In truth, if Draco was ever able to recognize such a thing as the truth, he was slightly worried as well. Should he tell her how he feels? Would he seem pathetic if he suddenly pronounced his feelings to her? What if he made a formal public statement? What if he wrote it in the sand? Across the sky? Put it in her employment contract? Tattoo it on his bum? Should he have an engraved edict presented to her on her birthday? (That last one wasn't a bad thought.)

He wasn't even sure what he felt! He had never been in love, so perhaps the feelings he thought he felt for her were just a faint giddiness that comes from being happy. Draco had never really been happy, either.

That thought made him scowl. Right, he had never really been in love, or extremely happy, so neither of those feelings blatantly rushed to the forefront of his brain as recognizable 'feelings'! Besides, she probably wasn't thinking about love. She didn't mean that she loved him. She was probably one of those people who had to be analytical about everything. No doubt, she had to study every variable, make a pro/con list, pie charts, and graphs, and look up references to love in books.

What did she want from him anyway? Promises? Devotions? Proclamations?

He decided something. He would take his own advice and live for the weekend, and worry about the real world later. He would cherish and love her for now, even if it was under the guise of 'having fun' or pretending. He would kiss her, hug her, perhaps a bit more, and then when they got back to work they would sort everything out.

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She grabbed a sundress, some lotion, deodorant, and other toiletries, as well as a book, and threw them quickly in a small bag. She ran back out of her room, toward the day spa, but then she stopped, midway down the hallway.

She laid her feelings out bare for him, and he really said nothing to placate her. He merely asked her what she wanted from him, and she never really answered him, nor did he answer her. What did she want from him? What DID she expect?

He felt torn, she was certain, as did she. She wouldn't mind a relationship with him, but she wanted to keep working at Malfoy Industries, even though she just started there. She was excited by the prospect of a job where she was able to put her ideas in motion, and where things actually came to fusion. She didn't really want a relationship right now. Of course, sometimes the best things came when a person wasn't expecting them.

After he asked her what she wanted from him, she realized that what her heart wanted (and perhaps what her body wanted) might be slightly different from what her head wanted. She decided that she would take his advice to heart, and try not to worry, and try to have a fun weekend, because so far, that was what she was having, and it was beyond fantastic. She would have fun in the moment, and not want for anything more. They could have fun and not kiss or make out, or have sex, right?

He might not think so. She smiled at that thought. She also decided not to worry, and to try hard not to dread Tuesday until Tuesday rolled around. Yes, she would take his advice, live for the weekend, and worry about everything else when the time came. She would have fun, pretend with him, even lie if necessary, but one thing was certain, it couldn't go beyond that. That meant no more kissing or hand holding. No more intimate moments, even under the guise of having fun. They could still have fun without all of that.

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She ran down the stairs, all three flights, and saw him waiting for her at the doors of the spa. She smiled as she ran toward him. He smiled back. She practically ran into his arms, and in fact, skidded to a halt, placing her hand on his chest to stop.

"Hi!" she said, breathless.

"Ready for a nice morning at the spa?" he asked.

"I'm ready for all sorts of things," she said, making a declaration.

He thought she looked radiant for some reason, so he leaned forward, to kiss her, and she leaned away.

"By the way," she said, hand still on chest, "I've decided something."

"Go on," he said, frowning.

"No more kissing. Fun is a given, lying is okay, but no kissing, hand holding, or the like. Let's just have fun."

"But that doesn't sound like much fun to me," he announced.

"It's for the best. It'll make things less complicated, and then when the weekend is over, we can go from there, and see what happens," she said.

He felt like slapping her. That was truly what he felt. Even if he didn't recognize foreign feelings like 'love' and 'happiness', disappointment and anger were two things he recognized like dear old friends. "We have to pretend to be a couple at the spa," he whined.

"Well, hand holding is okay then," she said.

Why was she ruining everything? Stupid Granger! They were supposed to be on their honeymoon! Snogging was a requirement! Shagging was even an option! He took her hand and with a frown still plastered on his face, he pulled her into the spa.

"Heather and David Malone for a ten o'clock appointment," he said harshly to the girl at the desk. He was squeezing Hermione's hand so hard that she finally pulled her hand from his.

She leaned forward and whispered, "Heather and Derek."

"Sorry, my little wife reminded me that my name is Derek," Draco told the girl. She looked at him confused, but then asked them to have a seat for a moment.

He sat on one end of the soft, beige couch, and she sat beside him. He folded his arms in front of him. She leaned over and asked, "Are you angry?"

"Yes."

"Because I said no kissing?" she asked.

"What do you think?" He glared at her. She sat back and stared toward the other wall. He leaned forward again and said, "You know, we have to pretend to be Daniel and Heather for at least two more hours, so why did you agree to the spa, if you don't want to share affection?"

Share affection? Who said things like that, Hermione wondered. She said, "It's Heather and Derek, and you know that. No more of this Daniel and David stuff. You make Heather seem like a little tramp, with a different man each minute. And I'm sorry, I thought I was taking your advice. I decided not to worry and to have fun, and I decided we could sort out our feelings when we got back to London." She turned back toward the wall.

"When did I say, 'Don't worry about things, and let's not share affection?' I don't think I said that," he proclaimed.

"Share affection?" she finally asked aloud. "In what sense do you want to share affection?" she asked sarcastically.

He smiled. He leaned over and put his index finger on her bare leg, and then he kissed her shoulder. She shivered. He sat back up and said, "Shared affection, my dear Granger."

She had to admit, that was nice. She shook her head and said, "But that will complicate things and confuse me even more."

"Heaven help a confused Granger," he mumbled to himself.

"What are we to expect here at the spa?" she asked, changing the subject. "The works or what?" She picked up a 'menu' that was on a side table, and looked at all of the amenities offered by the spa.

He took his finger and pointed to each thing he had booked. "Facials first, along with manicures and pedicures, then a wrap, a milk bath for you, a sulfur bath for me, the sauna, a massage, and then for you, a shampoo and style, and then I ordered us new outfits from that boutique down on the boardwalk." He folded the menu and said, "Then, I booked a late lunch on a yacht." He leaned over her, on purpose, and placed the menu back on the table by the side of the sofa.

"If you want it to be strictly platonic, that's fine, we can still have fun," he said. He knew he was still going to have fun. He smiled inwardly, and decided something new. He never played fair when he was a child, so why should he start now? He would give in to her, if only in theory. He would play nice, and fair, in the beginning, but by the end of their three hours in the spa, she would be putty in his hands. She would be a piece of clay, which he could mold, totally at his mercy.

Hell, she would be begging, no, pleading, to kiss him again. HA! Draco Malfoy loved the chase, and so let the games begin.

"How much is this costing you?" she wondered, "Because I really don't want to be in your debt."

He rolled his eyes. He stretched out on the couch. He actually turned his body, so he was on his back, threw his legs over her lap, his head on the armrest. He threw an arm over his eyes and said, "It's a business expense, so don't fret. Wake me up when they finally come to get us."

Hermione looked down at his legs over her lap, and then at his blank face. His eyes were shut, and she felt slightly off balance by the intimacy of his body over hers. He was acting surly, yet he was practically 'lying' on top of her.

"Malfoy?" she asked. She was holding her arms above his legs since he draped them across her, but she felt stupid with them up in the air, so she placed them on top of his legs.

"What?" he asked glibly.

"You do understand why I said no kissing, right?"

"No, but it's fine, no kissing, I understand," and he raised his head slightly from the arm of the couch, looked at the receptionist and said, "It's ten minutes after ten!" He put his head back on the armrest, and shut his eyes again.

Hermione continued her train of thought. "Kissing will complicate things, and then I'll worry even more."

"I'll worry if we don't kiss," he mumbled under his breath.

"Pardon? I didn't make that out," she said, although she had heard him fine.

"Better that you enjoy your weekend, then worry," he amended. He actually, ever so slightly, believed that. He did want to show her a good weekend, but damn, he wanted to kiss her, too. Draco just decided something else. By the end of the day, she would be the one that kissed him, or his name wasn't Draco Malfoy.

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"Draco," she started. She shook one of his legs with her hand. "How much would this have cost if we hadn't done it as a couple, because, I'm not indigent, I could pay my half."

He opened his eyes again, sat up quickly and said, "Are you still on about that?" He wanted to ask her how he would know how much it cost, since he had never once in his life looked at a price tag, but instead, he said, "I charged it to my room. I don't know how much it cost, okay, but its nonrefundable, so please, let's enjoy it." He didn't know if it was nonrefundable.

Then he lied again. "I booked it yesterday, when I first arrived." Why did he say that? "It's too late to back out now." Double lie. "We took their last spot, anyway." Maybe Draco really didn't know how to tell the truth. "They'll expect us to act as if we are a newly married couple, so sweetheart, just relax and have fun."

"Mr. and Mrs. Malone?" An attendant walked out of the glass double doors, and said, "This way, if you please."

He stood up and looked down at her. She had a slightly worried look, which made him cringe. He said, "One moment," to the attendant. He sat down and said, "Am I permitted to hold your hand, for a moment?"

He had held her hand more times than she could count during the last week, so what was one more time? He sat back down beside her and she slipped her hand between both of his. He leaned over closely to her, and whispered in her ear, so that only she could hear. "I don't want to embarrass you, or cause you distress, so I won't act as if we are married, I won't force my affections on you. I want you to feel comfortable. This is for you, Hermione." The problem, she just realized, was that each syllable of each word he had just spoken to her, felt like a small kiss on the side of her neck, and she felt fuzzy again. Her pulse was quickening, her breathing was irregular, and she could barely see.

She was also sure that he was highly aware of all of these things. She turned her head to him slightly, and he put a finger under her chin, and then leaned forward, as if he wasn't already close enough, and whispered one last thing. "I promise that I'll be as chaste as a virgin on her wedding day." His nose skimmed her jaw, and he kept her hand in only one of his so that his other hand could go to her back. He rubbed it in small circles on her back.

Then he went in for the kill. He smiled.

She wanted to kiss him so badly that her insides ached.

He jumped off the couch, pulled her up at the same time by the hand that was still in his hand, and said to the attendant, "We're ready!"

Hermione just decided something else. Draco Malfoy wasn't playing fair.

A/N: For those who don't like personal Author Notes...stop reading now.

For the rest...keep me in your thoughts. I have to have some surgery for removal of some lymph nodes, and a tumor, in my neck. Thanks. I'll update when I can.