A/N: I really, really want to thank everyone for their reviews. Every chapter, you leave me such wonderful comments, and I read them and re-read them and feel all warm and mushy inside. Your continued support is amazing. For those of you who are reading this story, I'm so honored you're taking the time to do that. I'd also like to wish you a Happy New Year. I'd tell you how I saw in the new year, but it was really lame, and I'm too embarrassed.

One slightly violent thought in this chapter, and loads of dialogue. It's the longest chapter I've written, and I might have been a bit ambitious, but live and learn right?

Chapter 6

Elena picked up the travel brochure in the plane. She scanned over the information but quickly put it back when she came across the phrase; 'Italy – Place of Love'. What a joke, she thought. She should have said no. She should have told him that she wanted to go home, but she'd agreed to go to Italy with him for some absurd reason.

"Will Rose be joining us when we arrive?" she asked him.

"She'll arrive tomorrow. Why?"

"I suppose the honeymoon is officially over then?" She tried to keep her voice civil when for some strange reason she felt like snapping at him.

"I suppose it is," he said with a wry smile.

"So, will I be entertaining myself for the next few days?" she asked now.

"I hope not," he told her. "I'm hoping to wrap this up in a couple of days, and then I can show you around a bit. There are some amazing sights to see, not to mention some of the most mouth watering food you'll ever experience."

They weren't here to sight-see. They were here so he could fix a work related problem. Just because she'd agreed to accompany him to Italy didn't mean all was forgiven and everything was hunky-dory. It just meant she was sympathetic enough to understand he didn't want to fly back to America and then out to Italy. From what little he'd told her, it sounded urgent.

"Don't worry about me. I'll keep myself entertained. You focus on your work."

Damon looked at her and raised an eyebrow.

"Are you telling me you don't want to spend time with me?"

"I just want to get home as soon as possible."

"Very well," he said, returning his attention back to the paper he was reading. "If that's what you want."

Within forty-eight hours Elena realized she'd made a mistake by telling Damon to concentrate solely on work. For a start, she missed him. They'd spent the last three days in Tahiti together, and now she felt as if she was going through withdrawals because she hadn't seen much of him for the past two days. She should have been trying to get her head together, to keep her defenses intact; but she found herself wandering around the house aimlessly, counting the hours until he returned home. She felt…pitiful.

Antonietta was Damon's housekeeper and cook. She was lovely, but didn't speak much English. She frequently told Elena go out for a walk. "Too pale," Antonietta would tell her; "need sun." She'd gone for a brief walk yesterday, but that had been a mistake too. There were couples everywhere and she didn't need to see people in love; it reminded her of what she'd never have.

If none of that was bad enough, her attraction to her unloving husband seemed to be increasing. She couldn't stop thinking about him. Last night she'd dreamed about him. Her physical attraction to him was so strong that she'd come to a decision.

Elena rummaged through her suitcase, but couldn't find what she was after. Antonietta had unpacked most of her things away in the dresser, and she didn't know where it was. She zipped up her suitcase and dumped it unceremoniously on the floor, before marching over to the dresser to search through the drawers again. Finally she found it in the top drawer, buried under all of her undergarments. This would help her with her mission.

She removed all of her clothes and stepped into the lacy red and black teddy that Bonnie had made her buy from Victoria's Secrets. Damon would never be able to resist her in this.

It was going to happen. He'd told her it was inevitable. What were her options here? If she waited a month, and he came to her, he would seduce her. She didn't want to be seduced. She didn't want to have her no changed to a yes. If this was going to happen, they would do it her way; on her terms. She would go to him. She would have sex with him and keep her feelings turned off. Maybe if she thought about it as the business transaction it was, that would help.

After she did up all the fastenings, she walked over to the mirror and applied a small amount of make-up. She sprayed on her favorite perfume. Once she thought she was finished, she studied her appearance in the mirror. Finding herself passable, she donned a black dressing gown and made her way into his room. He should be home anytime now.

One hour later the phone rang. Elena knew that Antonietta had gone home for the day, so she picked it up. It was Damon. He told her he wouldn't be home for another hour. She went back into his room and waited for an hour. Once that hour was over, she waited for yet another hour. By that time she'd been waiting for three hours, and she felt remarkably stupid; stupid for having the idea in the first place, and stupid for spending that long waiting for a man. Was this what married life would be like when they got home? Would she spend her nights waiting for him to return home from work and his extremely beautiful P.A.?

Rose. She had been helpful and kind when Elena needed help planning the wedding; but that didn't mean the P.A. wasn't interested in Damon. What if Damon was so sexually frustrated that he decided to go to bed with Rose? She was suddenly bombarded by images of Rose spread across Damon's desk; of him taking her hard and fast while she cried out his name. The sudden urge to lop Rose's head off with a machete or something equally sharp and hopefully painful, was unexplainable and certainly undesirable.

She made her way to the kitchen and opened the cupboard, looking for something; anything that would help take away some of the anxiety she was feeling right now. Finally, her hand landed upon a bottle of wine. She took it out and looked at the label. Grappa. That should do the trick. She located a glass and poured a fair portion into it. She was well into her second glass when Damon arrived home.

"Well," she said, "is this what you call an hour later?"

Damon took one look at his wife and knew that the trouble at work was only the start of his troublesome night. She was almost swaying in her chair, a glass of wine in front of her. He didn't need this, not tonight.

Damon took off his jacket and hung it over the back of the dining room chair, before he removed his tie and threw it on top of his jacket. Then he walked over to Elena and picked up the bottle in front of her. Grappa. He shook his head.

"Where did you find this, Elena?"

"It was in the cupboard," she told him. "What else is a girl to do, when she's left alone for hours by her husband?"

The word husband was slightly slurred, but not enough to disguise the almost seductive quality to her voice. What had gotten into his wife, other than the Grappa?

"You said you wanted to go home as soon as possible. If I'm working around the clock it's because you wanted me to," he told her.

"I'm sure it's made all the more appealing by your oh so helpful personal assistant."

"Yes, Rose is helpful, and my job is made easier by her efficiency and dedication. So what?"

"And the fact that she is very beautiful has nothing to do with why you like spending time with her?"

"I would prefer to be spending time with you, Elena, but you made it quite clear you wanted me to focus on work. That is all I'm doing." He leaned over her, "I'll keep myself entertained,' is what you said."

Damon grabbed her glass, walked over to the sink and poured out the contents. He didn't want to tell the office he wasn't coming in tomorrow because his wife had alcohol poisoning. He opened the fridge and pulled out a container of ground coffee beans. Measuring the right amount for the two of them, he put the coffee into the coffee machine, added the water and turned it on. He would have preferred a nice stiff drink, but she needed to sober up, and coffee would have to do.

"How many glasses have you had?" he asked her.

"I don't know. I was waiting for you and I was drinking while I waited."

He opened the cupboard above his head and took out two large mugs, before walking over to the fridge and taking out cream.

"You were waiting for me? I called you. I told you I wouldn't be home for a while."

He poured the coffee into the mugs, added cream and sugar for Elena, and left his black.

"You said you'd be home in an hour. I waited an hour. When it became obvious you wouldn't be returning home any time soon, I found the Grappa."

He walked over to the table and handed her a mug before he sat down opposite her with his own coffee.

"Why were you waiting? Is everything okay? Did you call home?"

"Yes I called home. Everything was fine. Perfect. They wanted to hear all about how much I was enjoying myself, about how wonderful Tahiti was."

"What did you tell them?"

"What they wanted to hear."

He nodded. "Very wise of you," he murmured.

"Yes, I just love lying to my parents." Her voice was dripping with sarcasm.

"Confidentiality was always part of our agreement, Elena. You knew that when you signed the papers."

His words were cold; his voice devoid of any emotion whatsoever. Did he not realize what she'd done? Did he not realize what she'd given up? Did he have any idea how much this had affected her? Of course not. He didn't care about feelings. He was Mr logic.

"Of course, the agreement." She slapped the palm of her hand against her forehead. "How could I be so stupid, to forget that I signed my life away for money; that I'm nothing but your whore?"

"If you were my 'whore', Elena, I would have slept with you by now. A whore wouldn't share my home with me."

She wanted to throw her coffee cup at his head.

"Am I supposed to be grateful that you're waiting? Am I supposed to be grateful for being given a roof over my head while I fulfil my duties? The only way to save my family was to marry you. The only way you would give me money was if I agreed to have your child. How did you think I would feel about this? What did you think I would feel about myself? I married a man who will never love me, for money. I agreed to sleep with him, for money. How could I not feel like a whore?"

He'd thought this night couldn't get worse; but now she was telling him she felt like a whore. Could he feel any lower than he did right now? Yes they had an arrangement, but the word prostitute had never entered his mind – not once. He realized now, however, that that was how she saw herself, and that was worse than almost anything else she could tell him. To be responsible for this woman disliking herself in anyway almost tore him to pieces.

"I never thought you'd feel that way. I thought it would be convenient for both of us. I never thought you'd see it as prostitution," he told her quietly.

His honest confession sounded so sincere and for a moment she wondered if it was regret she heard in his voice, before she decided she was mad. This man wasn't capable of regret.

"At the time when you made this proposal, we hardly knew each other at all. Stefan said you chose me because I look like Katherine and because you wanted to get back at him."

He wanted to grind his teeth together at the sound of his brother's name. Of course his brother would tell her that. He wanted to tell her that Stefan was a philandering and selfish twit, but running down his brother wouldn't win him any points with her.

"Is that what you believe?" he asked her instead.

"How should I know what to believe? I don't know you, Damon. Whenever I've asked you questions about yourself, you've brushed them off."

"Do you want to get to know me better?" He surprised himself by asking.

Elena looked at him as she sat back in her seat. If he'd asked her that question before their wedding she would have said yes without much hesitation. Now, however, she wondered if getting to know him better would be good for her at all. It was much easier to stay angry with the man she believed he was. What if getting to know him better shattered all her ideas about him?

"Of course if you're afraid to delve into the dark recesses of my mind, I understand," he told her.

"Why would I be afraid?" she asked, wondering if he'd guessed what she was thinking, and hoping that she wasn't that transparent.

"You might actually find you like me."

She struggled to hide her irritation that he'd been able to read her so clearly.

"Trust me, there's no chance of that happening," she told him.

"Then it's settled, tomorrow we'll have dinner, and I'll answer whatever questions you want to know."

"Any questions?"

"Any and all of them. I'll be an open book."

"Fine," she mumbled.

They sat in silence, drinking their coffee. Damon was staring out the window. It was completely dark out, and Elena wondered if he could actually see anything out there. She couldn't help but notice that he looked tired tonight; he looked weary. She didn't think she'd ever seen him look like that after work before.

"So, Dear, how was your day?" she asked, striving for half sarcastic and half sincere.

"Full of unpleasantness," he returned, keeping his eyes on the window.

Elena suspected he wasn't simply referring to work. Well, whatever animosity she had towards him, he deserved. Perhaps he deserved whatever happened at work too.

"What did you do to deserve such unpleasantness?"

He turned back to her, his eyes as cold as ice, his jaw and face impossibly tight. She instantly regretted her remark; not because she thought it was unfair, but because she'd never seen him look that angry before. Nor had she ever been on the receiving end of a look like that. It made her want to crawl underneath the table.

"What did I do to deserve such unpleasantness? I trusted someone is what I did, Elena. A young man in his twenties came to me several months ago. He told me that his wife had just given birth to a girl who had some rare disease I'd never heard of. He said he would have to leave my company to find a better paying job because he couldn't afford to pay for the care she needed on the wage that I was paying him. My wages are above average I might add, but understanding his plight I did some research and looked into the disease he'd mentioned. It was awful, heartbreaking. The child can need up to fifty operations and still may not live. Wanting to help in some way, I created a position in my company for him, with a bigger salary and added health benefits for him and his family. In this position he had access to some very sensitive information. Today I discovered he's been selling it to my business rivals. Oh and here's the kicker, he never had a sick daughter. His daughter was born perfectly healthy. Some would call me foolish for not double checking his story. Now, I can see that I was a fool; a fool for trusting him without proof. Stupidly, I didn't want to turn up on his doorstep, when he had so much to deal with already, to check he wasn't lying to me."

The anger and the hurt in his voice; the obvious betrayal he felt, were absolutely heartbreaking. Elena didn't know what to say. She felt sick to her stomach that someone would do something so cold. To lie about having a sick child just seemed so calculating. Her face must have shown her shock because he let out a small harsh laugh when he looked at her.

"Surprised to know I may not be the morally bankrupt man you thought I was? You asked me what I did to deserve such unpleasantness. I was asking myself the same question before I arrived home, but the answer is sitting right here facing me."

It took Elena a moment to realize he was talking about her.

"I blackmailed you into marrying me. What kind of person does that?"

He wasn't looking at her anymore. She assumed the question was a rhetorical one, which was good because she had no words for him.

"I never meant it to come to what it did. I never wanted you to feel like some kind of prostitute, Elena."

This time she knew it was regret she heard.

"It's done now, Damon. You can't take it back, no matter how much you might want to."

He looked at her now.

"Do you think…? Can you ever forgive me?"

"I…I don't know," she answered honestly.

"Will you try?" he asked her.

"I'll think about it."

He nodded, accepting her answer.

She picked up her coffee cup, and was about to stand up when he gently took hold of her wrist.

"You never told me why you were waiting for me."

She remembered her earlier plan. There was no way she could go through with it. She didn't hate him. She wanted to hate him. She should hate him; but she didn't. Her emotions were all over the shop when it came to this man. Sleeping with Damon while trying to control her emotions, would be like lighting a bonfire and trying to contain it while pouring gasoline on it. Somehow she already felt like he'd slipped through one of her barriers tonight. She didn't want him to slip through any more.

"It's not important," she told him.

He let her wrist go, but she sensed his reluctance to do so. He pushed back his chair, grabbed his coffee cup, and joined her at the sink.

Still feeling like the emotions between them were running high, she wanted space.

"Why don't you go to bed?" she asked him. "You've had a long day. I'll wash these up."

She ran a tiny bit of hot soapy water and put the mugs in there. Instead of leaving, he picked up a tea towel.

"Seriously, billionaires don't dry dishes, do they?" she asked him.

"Technically, you're a billionaire too. So you tell me."

"No, I'm married to a billionaire. There's a difference."

"We're married. What's mine is yours."

She thought he was joking, but when she looked at him she realized he was deadly serious.

"You take this whole marriage thing pretty seriously don't you?"

"I do," he said. "Everything I have, I will share with you. If you want me to."

Except your heart, Elena thought.

Once they were finished, Damon put down the tea towel and he turned around to leave, before turning back to her for a moment.

"You asked me if I chose you because you look like Katherine."

She was momentarily confused by the change of topic before she nodded.

"It's true you look a lot like Katherine, but…"

He broke off mid-sentence and stared at her. She looked down to find her dressing gown was gaping at the front and he was looking at the black and red teddy she'd worn to seduce him. The lust and desire in his eyes as he looked at her, hit her like a freight train. She pulled the dressing gown so it covered her, but it was too late, her face felt like it was on fire, and the rest of her body was heating up all too quickly at the look on his face.

"You were waiting for me in that?" he asked her so huskily that it sent heat pulsing straight to her core.

How was she going to explain this?

"It's what I sleep in," she said.

"Mm-hmm," he said with a smirk, walking slowly towards her.

"You wanted me to see you in this. Why?" he asked.

Perhaps honesty was the only way to go.

"I was going to seduce you, but…"

"Mission accomplished," he said softly, as he lowered his lips to hers.

Things spiraled quickly. His hands went inside her robe, stroking her body through the lace. His mouth was hot and insistent on hers for some time before he nuzzled her neck. He found a particularly sensitive spot on her neck and he sucked her there softly, causing her nipples to pebble in immediate response. He cupped her bottom with his hands and pulled her flush against his erection. The feel of his hardness against her, made her body throb with need. She ground her hips against his, feeling feverish all over. She was growing wetter and wetter by the second. All she could think about was how much she needed him; how much she wanted him.

Then, without any warning, he stopped kissing her.

"You said but," he said to her breathlessly.

"What?" she couldn't for the life of her work out what he was saying, or why he'd stopped.

"You said, 'I was going to seduce you, but…,"

After he'd aroused her beyond belief, he wanted to stop and discuss what she had been going to say before he'd cut her off by kissing her.

"But…I changed my mind," she finished quietly. He took his hands off her and took a small step backwards. Things obviously wouldn't be going any further tonight, but she couldn't understand why. If anyone should have been stopping things between them it was her. Why hadn't he taken advantage of her willingness to sleep with him?

"Why did you stop? I would have…"

"I know. But after everything you've said tonight, I don't want this to be something that you regret. I don't want you to wake up in the morning and feel disgust with either yourself or with me. I want you more than anything," he told her, again pulling her against him, so she could feel just how hard he was for her. The action made her gasp. "But I don't want you to feel regret."

"What if that never happens?" she asked him.

"I don't know," he said with a shrug. "All I can hope for is that eventually you stop hating me; eventually maybe you will even come to like me."

"What if it takes longer than a month?" she asked.

"Then I'll be in for a lot of cold showers and a lot of hand relief." His smile was so gorgeous; her heart felt like it was melting. He was giving her more time.

She pulled her robe back around her and tied the sash tightly.

"I'm tired. I think I'm going to go to bed."

Damon brushed one last soft kiss on her lips. "Goodnight, Elena. Sleep well."

She gave him a polite smile before she turned away and walked to her bedroom. She shut the door behind her, sat down on the bed, and tried to work out what had just happened between them. He regretted his actions. It shouldn't matter to her; he'd done something nobody should do, yet it did matter. It was something – a start anyway. He'd asked her if she could forgive him, and she'd said she would think about it. He was giving her more time. He didn't want her to have regrets. He didn't want her to feel disgust with herself or with him.

And he took marriage seriously. She'd already guessed that much, but she'd never realized just how much he thought of the institution. If he was talking about sharing everything with her, then he couldn't just think of her as a possession, could he? It seemed the whole reason he wanted a wife was to have someone to share his life and things with him. There was almost a sense of loneliness and solitude about the man that she'd never picked up on before. What else had she missed?

Her head whirled as their conversation played over in her mind. The story he'd told her about his employee showed he had compassion. He couldn't be some unfeeling monster if he was prepared to help someone out like that. She wanted to think of Damon as heartless, but he wasn't. And if he wasn't the monster she made him out to be, what was going to stop her from falling in love with him?

The next day he called her just after midday.

"What is it?" she asked him, worried that he was again going to be detained by work, or worse, that something else had gone wrong.

"I've done everything I can do regarding this situation at work. What happens now is up to the solicitors and police."

He paused, waiting for some acknowledgment from her.

"Does that mean we'll be leaving Italy shortly?" she asked him, wondering why instead of feeling pleased she felt a small amount of disappointment.

"I've been in touch with the airline. We can leave late this evening."

He paused again, and Elena wondered what he was going to say next.

"But," she prompted.

"But I have some things; some places here that I'd really like to show you. And I still want us to have dinner tonight. I want you to get to know me, Elena. But it's up to you. If you want to leave tonight, we can. If you want to stay for a couple more nights, we can. This decision is up to you."

He was giving her a choice. For the first time since they'd started their 'relationship' he was letting her decide on something. She felt like he was trying to put their relationship back on the right track. He was indirectly asking her for a second chance.

For a short moment she wanted to say no – self preservation was highly desirable; but she was fast realizing the futility of fighting what was between them. The physical and emotional connection between them was so strong, that it could only be denied for so long. It was going to win out in the end and all she could do was say yes, and prepare herself for the roller coaster ride that she was about to be taken on. She'd discovered that she didn't like to be out of control, however, she'd also discovered that this thing between them couldn't be contained; it couldn't be controlled.

"Okay," she told him.

"Okay, you'll stay?" she could hear the thinly veiled hope in his voice.

"Okay, I'll stay."

"Okay then, how about I book tickets for three days time?"

"Fine," she said.

"I'll be home no later than six tonight. I've still got some paperwork to complete, but it shouldn't take me long."

"I'll see you then," she replied.

He said goodbye and she hung up. So this was it then; she was making a conscious decision to explore whatever was between them, no holding back. Her head screamed danger, but for some crazy reason her heart seemed to be doing a little dance at the idea of being allowed to finally feel what it wanted, without a limit being placed on it.

A/N: I'm aware that some of you will think I'm going too fast and some of you think I'm going too slow. I've had to settle into a pace that I'm comfortable with (loosely based of the Mills & Boon).

As always, I love to hear your thoughts. Thanks for reading, and please review.