I would like to say BIG THANK YOU to KITTIE DARKHART for proofreading another chapter for me! Great job girl!

I also would like to thank everyone who took time to read my story and review it :) That means a lot to me! I hope you enjoy this one - it might be the penultimate chapter, but you never know ;)

It was 3 A.M. and Rachel's eyes were wide open.

She didn't sleep well, if any at all, that night. Sleepless nights happened often in her life, as living under such pressure resulted in this changed sleeping pattern. Usually the night before a new album was out or a new movie was released, she always found herself lying awake, unable to sleep. This time it was a bit different, though. It was another big event in her life, but so much more important... She anxiously waited for the morning, which would bring forth a solution—and at the same time, she was scared to death what this solution might be—to her dilemma.

After a few minutes of trying to get back to sleep, she gave up and got up. She soon realized that she's completely naked, so she slipped Frank's T-shirt on her slim body and moved towards the bathroom.

She didn't come back to bed, just glanced at her innocently sleeping ex-bodyguard, smiled a little at him, and decided to have something to drink.

It was rather warm during this time of the year in L.A.; however, it was the way Frank's kitchen looked that really melted Rachel's heart. It was a very small kitchen—well, at least compared to hers—but very cozy and tidy as for a bachelor's pad. Rachel realized that she didn't even know whether Frank was actually single, and maybe he had seen her with John at the party? The guy was hugging her, after all...Rachel sighed. She really cared about what Frank thought of her, which was why she was so glad to finally explain what happened with Portman to him. She wanted to tell him so many times, but there was never a right time for it, and it bothered her terribly. The truth was, even though she was now a big Hollywood film star, she still hadn't grown a thick skin that would protect her from caring about what people said or thought about her. What Frank thought about her was especially important to her... Rachel suddenly realized that she could live in a cozy house, cook for him in this small kitchen, and enjoy those quiet moments of normalcy. It would be like the mornings she remembered from her childhood. Her family home was also modest and warm—she and her sisters, Nicki and Jane, had gotten everything from their parents that children could dream of. True, they didn't have much money—however, their breakfasts, filled with both laughter and singing gospel, were the things that she missed the most. Now that her parents were dead, as well as Nicki, who was also dead, and with Jane living abroad and not visiting as often as Rachel would like, she felt kind of lonely. Except for Fletcher, Tony, and Bill she didn't trust anyone else. Well, she could trust Frank completely; if he only let her...Rachel shook her head.

She looked at the neat arrangement of her lover's kitchen—minimalistic furniture, a small wooden table by the window, two wicker armchairs, and a comfortable sofa. It was very bright in the kitchen, even though Rachel didn't switch the light on. She found that she didn't have to, not with the full moon streaming in through the window. The kitchen looked so magical in this light – Rachel poured herself some orange juice from the fridge and sat on the sofa, which was faced a modest back garden. She put her legs up on the wooden windowsill and closed her eyes.

Frank had a dream. It was a dream he'd had many times before. One where he was lying in bed with Rachel Marron, his arms wrapped tightly around her, her breath tickling his neck as they both whispered sweet nothings to each other. He knew he would never be that open normally, so it must have been a dream. Only this time it felt so real...so very real. Frank opened his eyes, as he slowly remembered what happened last night. Did it really happen? Was Rachel here? Where was she now? Frank looked at the small electronic alarm clock on the side table. It was 3:20 A.M. and Rachel was nowhere to be seen. 'It was a dream, then.' – The bodyguard heaved a heavy sigh. He then turned to the other side and noticed something strange—he was completely naked, which was normal for him, but there were no clothes on the chair where he usually put them and on the pillow he could still smell a hint of her intoxicating perfume.

So, she was here last evening. It wasn't a dream. Where was she now? he wondered. Did she go home? Frank thought about the guy at the party and his heart froze. Yes, he realized that she had a boyfriend and last evening was just a brief moment where they shared a few, kind sentiments and nostalgia with one another. So, she left in the middle of the night, by herself, leaving him with hundreds of unanswered questions? Was last night—well, tonight, really—just something that spoilt diva felt like having for a moment? He dressed in a pair of comfortable pants—different than those he was wearing last night—and a T-shirt, before heading towards the kitchen to have some orange juice and think.

An extraordinary view prevented him from entering the kitchen, however. After spending many months with Rachel during her concerts and stage appearances, he'd come to realize just how important the lighting was. He'd seen Rachel in all color of lights, dimmed or bright, in the sun, or even in UV lighting. But what he saw now took his breath away. For there she was, the most beautiful woman in the world, sitting on his sofa, dressed only in his T-shirt, with her incredibly long legs up on the windowsill, her eyes closed, looking like an angel that she surely wasn't; but then, it was so easy to forget that fact at that very moment.

He hesitated for a moment, but the temptation was just too strong. He placed a delicate, soft kiss on her forehead and she opened her eyes, a bit surprised, and looked at him. Frank thought that she was incredibly beautiful, even without any make-up on and at 3:30 in the morning.

- I didn't want to wake you – he said quietly, still unable to take his eyes off her. Rachel shook her head and replied:

- I wasn't sleeping; I was thinking...you know, about us, about what happened...I couldn't sleep. It's just...I wasn't sure what the morning would bring, so it's better if I prepare for it, knowing what to tell you, what to ask you about...

Frank didn't answer. He poured himself a glass of orange juice and turned to her, still listening. He heard a barely audible whisper:

- I was just worried that this morning in your house will look like last time...-

Frank sat next to her on the sofa and took her in his arms, still not knowing what to say. There were so many things he wanted to tell her. She moved closer to him so that their bodies touched, his arms wrapped around her tightly, his cheek next to hers. They fit perfectly—it was a natural body match, an effortless one. It felt so natural, so good; they could hear each other's hearts racing. If only this moment could last forever.

But it couldn't, and they both knew it. There were still so many things that needed to be addressed, and Rachel knew she was the one that had to start talking.

- Frank...where are we? What are we to each other? What do we do now? -

The bodyguard didn't know the answer to those questions, and so Rachel tried once again:

- Frank, are you... seeing anyone? - That question, even though coming from rather spontaneous Rachel, surprised him. And even though the answer was simple, it brought back the thought of her boyfriend, the one at the party, and he felt hurt. Just who was that guy to her, anyway?

- No, Rachel, I'm not dating anyone. But you are—I saw you with that guy at the party. You looked rather close – Jealousy and bitterness in his voice was rather obvious, but Rachel didn't seem to notice, as she focused on his words instead. Damn it! He'd seen her with John.

- Frank, John is not my boyfriend. He is...hmmm...a friend - That didn't sound the way she wanted it to sound. Frank wasn't convinced; he knew what 'friend' in Hollywood slang meant. Was she just sleeping with this John or actually in relationship with him?

- Yeah, you looked very friendly, – he said, a little sarcastically.

- Just hear me out, all right? – She took a deep breath. – I'll tell you who John is. He's an actor, who was hired to play in my music video. He is a great guy, really sweet, and I think he has a 'thing' for me. -

- Of course he does. – to Frank there was no doubt about that.

- Well, according to Sy, recent claims could possibly hurt my career...you see...The press somehow never found out about us—about our little date and so on, not even about that kiss at the airport. So they haven't seen me with a guy, during the time when you were my bodyguard. After you left...it was very hard. I didn't feel like dating anyone for a really long time...long enough for the press to conclude that I might be a lesbian. I mean...attractive girl like me, with half of Hollywood trying to date me and I'm still single? For two years? True, I have a son, but not a man in sight! So Sy figured out that I should at least try to date someone and he arranged for me to meet John, who is quite well-known, for us to show up few times in public. I agreed; he did too, eagerly. I think he takes this whole arrangement thing a little too seriously, acting like he was my real boyfriend. He is actually sweet, a really nice guy, but I don't like him the way he likes me. I might go out on a date with him few more times, but my heart isn't there, you know? And I'm little worried about him; he really tries so hard to impress me. He asked me about you last night—he must've sensed something being off, since his questions were very, very tense about it afterward. He didn't quite believe me when I said that you were once my bodyguard. But I think he remembered that you saved my life during last year's Oscars. It was all over on T.V. and in all the newspapers. Nobody was talking about winners and losers—just about the assassin that nearly killed me. I even bet those advertisers got their money's worth! – She laughed and Frank smiled too. – It was a show to remember. -

She paused for a moment, took a sip of juice, and continued:

- Anyway, I'll do what Sy asks me to do—after all, he knows how showbiz works—I'll have few more public dates with John, but that's it. I never promised him anything and have never slept with him. -

- You didn't? – The relief in his voice was almost palpable, and Rachel smiled at that. It was nice to know that he cared.

- No, I didn't. You might think otherwise, but I'm not that easy. – Rachel looked at him and another took a sip of her orange juice. Amazing that her throat was getting dry so fast. - I actually haven't slept with anyone since we last did it here, in this house. And by last time, I meant some night, two years ago, not last night. – She grinned.

Frank was very surprised and didn't even try to hide it.

- You really haven't slept with anyone since? - That was almost unbelievable, but he knew she was telling him the truth. He could feel it.

- No, I haven't. Have you? - Her eyes were bright and shining with a stark intensity that made him grow still. She was expecting an honest answer from him, but Frank really didn't want to go there. After what she'd said, how could he tell her about Amanda? True, they were not together then, not even remotely, but it still felt a bit like a betrayal. The silence was too long, though, and it became very awkward between them.

- Did you, Frank? - She asked again, her tone insistent.

- Yes… - That was all he could say without feeling guilty. But why would he feel guilty, though? They were not together then; he thought they'd never see each other again. He was trying to move on, and they aren't in relationship—even now—so he had nothing to blame himself for. Why did he feel like he did something wrong, then?

Rachel's reaction surprised him. She got up from the sofa, moved to the other side of the kitchen, her face contorting with both fury and anger. When she spoke, her tone was far from quiet.

- Oh, you did, did you? Damn you, Frank! Who is she? When did it happen? Was it a onetime thing or was it an actual relationship? -

Frank waited for her to calm down. He actually enjoyed that her furious attack—it was so very Rachel, so very much in her nature. He knew that she got angry very fast, but was never able to hold a grudge for long. She also looks incredibly beautiful when she's angry. And as ashamed as he was to admit it, he loved the fact that she was as jealous of him as he was of her.

Rachel was still looking at him with fury when Frank noticed something else: he saw tears in her eyes and panicked. Jesus, she was far more sensitive than he thought. He stood up then, took her in his arms and kissed her neck. She pushed him away for a moment, but didn't fight for long, his embrace calming her. She just brought his feelings for her to a whole new level. He didn't quite know how he could love someone like that; it actually, physically, hurt him to seeing her cry. He kissed her neck and cheek, softly, soothingly. Then he took her hand, sat on the armchair, and made her sit on his lap.

It was already 4:30. The moon was still high, giving off a beautiful silver glow. And Frank realized that it was the perfect time to open up as he felt that a moment like this might not come as promisingly again. He wanted to tell her everything: about Amanda, about that really bad time when she was out of his life, about how much he missed her, and how difficult was to forget her.

-Rach… - he spoke softly, taking her chin in his hand and forced her to look at him, before kissing in the lips – I'll tell you everything, ok? I may regret it, I know that, but I'll tell you everything, and you just hear me out, okay? —

Rachel nodded. She was already calm, feeling safe in his arms again.