Sydrian One Shots

by spaztronaut

A collection of Sydrian one shots. There will be fluff, angst, drama, kissing. Whatever ideas I have. And, if you want, send in a prompt and I might use it! Stop by my tumblr (spaztronautwriter) if you have any requests or prompts :)

59. Intern

Richelle Mead owns the VA and Bloodlines series.

This one shot took me forever, but I'm completely in love with the idea and hope you guys will be too. It's my first AH one shot so everyone who asked for one, this is for you guys!

Thank you so much to every single one if you guys who read, review, favorite, whatever. You guys are amazing and leave the sweetest comments all the time. Happy Holidays to everyone and I hope you have a great New Year!

The smell of hard boiled eggs is not very pleasant, especially when you're fighting a hangover. But it was the voice that cut through the room that turned my stomach even more than the smell.

"Adrian. It's about time you got out of bed. Sit down to lunch with us."

I would have loved to turn around and walk right back out of the dining room, but my father had already noticed me and if there's one thing you should know about Nathan Ivashkov, it's that when he gets a hard glint in his dark eyes, it's best not to argue with him. And he definitely had that glint in his eyes now.

I knew he'd be pissed at me for disappearing last night, but at the time the thought of bikini clad vacationers and a pool bar was more important. I sat down at the table and wrinkled my nose at the smells coming off the food. Lunch was definitely not a good idea right now. Instead I turned to look out the open balcony doors at the waves rolling up onto the beach. The sun glinting off the sand was too bright and hurt my eyes, but was still easier to look at than the food my dad was currently shoveling into his mouth. The scent hard boiled eggs hit me again and made my stomach churn.

The egg salad belonged to Dad's latest college intern, a blonde who could've been pretty if she didn't always look like the dry cleaner's added a little too much starch to her never-ending array of stuffy blouses. Even though I had to suffer through that horrible smell, Stuffy Intern didn't appear to be eating her gross egg salad. Instead she was focused on whatever paperwork my dad had saddled her with.

I couldn't help but pity her. Here we were, in the middle of paradise, staying in the lap of luxury, and she was locking herself in a boardroom with my father for the whole trip. She was so wrapped up in whatever contract or report Dad had her going over she probably hadn't even noticed the, literally, million dollar view of the beach off the balcony.

My dad could criticize the way I lived my life all he wanted, but what kind of life was that? Locking yourself in a room to read, when you had the world at your fingertips? I'd take bumming around bars and beaches any day compared to that. At least I was enjoying my life.

"Sydney," Dad called Stuffy Intern, "have you met my son, Adrian, yet? Adrian, this is Sydney Sage, the new intern."

Sydney looked up from her papers to give me a once over. I smiled charmingly. She seemed to barely notice. "Nice to meet you." Then she was back to her papers, thoroughly engrossed.

It put me off, her decided lack of interest in me, that is. The interns were always usually girls, around my age, maybe a little younger. And they always loved the boss's charmingly handsome son. I'd only seen this girl twice, including the plane ride out here yesterday, but it seemed she'd rather look at charts and graphs than me. Well, to each his own, I supposed.

"Where were you last night?" Dad asked, the new intern completely forgotten as his usual sneer turned his lip up. "We got off the plane and I never saw you again."

"Oh, I didn't know this was a father/son bonding trip." A maid placed a glass of water in front of me and I took a sip, even though I'd rather have something a little stronger. "My mistake. I guess it was the entourage of corporate suits that had me confused."

"Adrian," Dad sighed. "Don't start. This trip is important for the company, you know that. Our merger with Tarasov Financial will bring in billions."

At my enraged look he rolled his eyes and went back to his paperwork. No emotion or apologies or even excuses. Just plain old indifference. I stood up so fast that my water spilled onto the table. A maid rushed over to intervene, but Dad was already pulling his papers out of the way, yelling about how irresponsible I was. New intern, Sydney, also pulled her papers out of the way, but being directly across the table from me, the water had less distance to travel and ran over the edge before she had a chance to stand up. She cried out as it splashed all over her lap.

"Did it get on the documents?" Dad asked, hurriedly. Sydney assured him it hadn't, then threw her papers on the dry part of the table and glared at me while she tried to dry her khakis with a napkin. "Adrian, you should go," Dad said. "Before you do any real damage."

Staring at him for a moment, I wondered if he meant I should leave the room, or the resort, before deciding I didn't care. I stormed off, stopping by my room to grab some money, and then straight to the pool bar.

###

By the time I got back from my anger fueled drinking binge my Dad was on a conference call with Tokyo that would last at least another four hours. The maid, a lovely woman named Maria, whom I'd discovered had three kids and had worked for the hotel since she was sixteen, was nice enough to bring me a cup of coffee—and tell me my father was occupied—when I stumbled in.

"Miss Sage is in the sitting room," she informed me.

Miss Sage, I thought wryly, would just love to see me right now, wouldn't she? Despite knowing what a terrible idea it was, I took my coffee into the sitting room to find Sydney sitting cross-legged on a sofa, a mountain of paperwork laid out in front of her and a highlighter in her hand. She looked up when I entered and frowned.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, and though the frown remained firmly in place, she seemed more curious than disdainful. That was more than I'd hoped for since this afternoon's water fiasco. I took a chance and sat down in a recliner next to her.

"Just thought I'd check on my favorite new intern." I smiled charmingly at her, but again, not so much as a quirk of her lips. "Wanted to make sure Dad wasn't working you too hard. Which," I gestured at the mountain of papers, "doesn't seem to be the case yet. When this stack starts to bury you alive, call me and I'll help you escape."

This earned a small smile from her, a very small one, but it was a start. She sniffed the air daintily and then her eyes shot wide.

"Is that coffee?" she asked, staring longingly at the mug in my hands. "I've had so much the maids won't bring me any more."

I laughed. "That much caffeine can't be healthy."

She highlighted something on one of the papers and then threw me a wry look. "You're one to talk. I can smell the alcohol from here."

I tipped my head, conceding the point, and handed her the coffee. "Here. I'm sure you need this more than I do."

She reached out and grabbed the mug, but hesitated. "I don't know about that. How much did you have to drink?" She grimaced. "You haven't been drinking since you left at lunch, have you?"

The concern in her brown eyes made me want to lie, but at the same time, I think it was also preventing me from doing just that.

"Not the entire time," I said carefully. It wasn't a total lie. I hadn't been drinking the entire time. I'd paused to smoke, did a little flirting, made out with a hot redhead for about an hour on the dance floor.

She scowled, knowing I was full of it. "You take it," she said, handing the mug back. "I'll survive, but you should sober up."

"Why?" I asked, suddenly feeling overwhelmingly depressed. "So I'll be bright-eyed and bushy tailed for my big day of drinking tomorrow? Or so I'll have to work even harder to avoid telling my dad where he can stick his Tarasov merger?"

I don't think Sydney realized the kind of can of worms she was opening with her comment, but she took it in stride. "Neither of those sound like good options, but, I don't know, maybe you could wake up early to avoid your dad and spend the day at the beach. You know, not drinking."

That time she earned a real smile; still charming, but not purposefully executed. "You're alright, Sage. For one of my dad's workaholic interns."

She shook her head and went back to her highlighting.

"You can say it too, you know."

"Say what too?" she asked, setting her highlighter aside and looking up at me.

"That I'm alright. For the boss's handsome, alcoholic son."

That earned me a real smile from her, perfectly white teeth and all. "You should get to bed," was all she said. Then she picked up her highlighter and got back to work.

For a brief moment I considered asking her to join me, but was pretty sure all that would get me was her highlighter. Chucked at my head. Besides, she was kind of cool and she was currently working her ass off for no money, just to help my dad with his stupid merger. I forwent any rude comment and smiled at her.

"You too."

"I will," she said in a way that made me think I'd find her on this couch tomorrow morning, highlighter still in hand. I placed the coffee on the table beside her papers before heading off to my room.

Sure enough, when I got up to go to the bathroom a few hours later, I found her on the couch. One of the maids had been kind enough to give her a pillow and throw a blanket over her, but I went over and had to pry the yellow highlighter out of her limp, sleeping hand myself.

###

The next night I came back from one of the resort clubs to find Sydney curled up on the couch again, a large blue binder on her lap.

"You again," I said, collapsing into the recliner. She greeted me with a smile and went back to reading her binder. "What are you doing? Maria said Dad went to dinner with a bunch of the suits a few hours ago. He probably won't be back tonight so you can go if you want."

"I'm alright," she said. "I want to finish reading over these expenses for Mr. Iva—um, I mean, your dad." She glanced up at me with wide eyes. "Oh, unless you want me to go," she said quickly and started to stand. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have just—"

"No, no," I told her, gesturing for her to relax. "It's fine. You can stay as long as you want. I just thought you might want to do something besides work while you had the chance."

"I like to work," she smiled at me. "What are you doing home so early anyway? I thought you'd be out for the night too."

"Ah," I grinned. "That was your plan. Get the Ivashkovs out of the way and then steal their swanky hotel room for yourself. I bet you even had the maids in on it with you."

She laughed and rolled her eyes, but forgot about her original question and went back to her reading. The truth was, I wasn't sure why I was home early. I wasn't sure why I was home at all. I'd run into the redhead from yesterday at the club and she'd seemed more than happy to let me share her hotel room for the night, but for some reason... here I was.

"Are you going to stare at me all night?" she asked, not even glancing up at me. "Or do you have something on your mind?"

I wasn't sure. Honestly, she was pretty easy to stare at. Much prettier than I'd originally given her credit for. "Why are you doing this?" I asked, eventually.

Finally she looked up and her eyes met mine. "Because your dad asked me to look over the company's expenses and find a way to cut costs by ten percent."

I whistled through my teeth. "That's a big job, Sage. Not the usual work interns do."

She nodded, going back to her reading. "I know it's meant as some kind of test. I know he didn't think I'd actually be able to do it, which is why I'm working so hard to find a way to make it happen."

"Good for you," I said, and reached out to grab the binder from her and placing it on the table. "But that's not what I was talking about. I meant why are you working for my dad in the first place? You don't seem like the corporate-ladder type."

She sat back and faced me fully, no distractions for once. She was really very pretty, with her blonde hair and eyes that I just now realized were more amber than brown. "What type am I then?" she asked.

"I'm not sure yet," I said thoughtfully. "That's why the question."

She thought about it for a moment and pulled her legs up underneath her. "I needed a second internship this year, for school. I took business last semester and my professor suggested Ivashkov International to me. He said the CEO loved to work with interns and was very well connected. It seemed like a good opportunity."

"But business is not your thing, huh?"

"I'm okay at it," she shrugged.

"Oh, I'm sure you're more than okay at it." I gestured to the binder. "Most of the interns don't take my dad's challenges to heart. He likes to give people impossible tasks to complete."

"Well, even if I fail, I'm going to try my hardest," she said, brushing some of that blonde hair behind her ear, revealing a small shape on her cheek. Without thinking, I moved over to sit on the couch beside her to get a better look.

"What is that?" I asked. "On your cheek?"

"Oh," she said, trying to brush her hair in front of what appeared to be a small birthmark. "It's nothing. Just a birthmark. I usually cover it up with makeup but..."

I brushed the hair away from her cheek again and heard her intake of breath. "I'm sorry," I said, dropping my hand. "I just wanted to see it. It looked almost like a—"

"A lily," she confirmed. "Yeah. It's weird."

"No, that's cool."

She stared at me a few seconds more, her amber eyes big and bright up close like this, before she moved the hair away from her cheek again. Sure enough, her birthmark did look like the outline of a lily. She was clearly embarrassed of it, but I wasn't lying when I said it was cool. It was so unique. She shouldn't be ashamed to have such a perfect imperfection on her cheek.

"I don't know why you'd think this is weird," I said, brushing the tip of my pointer finger over the gold colored birthmark. "It's beautiful."

She swallowed hard, uncomfortable with either the compliment or my proximity, I wasn't sure. Maybe both. I moved back a short distance, feeling, oddly enough, like I was still further from her than I would have liked. I shook off the thought. She wasn't the first attractive intern my father had hired. And I knew from personal experience, getting involved with an intern wouldn't end well for either of us.

"So what have you come up with so far?" I asked, grabbing the binder off the table and flipping it open.

"Oh," Sydney said, looking like she was shaking off thoughts of her own. "Not much, really. He told me to see what was the least useful expenditure out of this list. All I've discover so far is that Ivashkov International spends a lot of money on shipping gourmet coffee into their offices."

I smiled. "Well, we wouldn't want to cut the coffee fund, would we?"

"No, we would not," she laughed. "But I'm not sure what else could go while leaving the company running the same. A lot of companies do little things for employees like buying lunch or throwing parties, but there are no expenses for things like that on this list."

"That's because my dad doesn't care about doing nice things for other people."

She ignored my bitter tone and flipped through the pages. I took the opportunity to lean close to read over her shoulder. This girl might have been off limits, but I was still Adrian Ivashkov.

"What's that for?" I asked, pointing to a list of expenses.

"It's for a graphics and advertising company," she explained.

"Why do they have an outside company doing it? Wouldn't it be cheaper to hire a few full time guys and have our own advertising department?"

"What would you know about it?"

My father's voice cut through the air, causing Sydney and I to jump away from one another. Dad stood in the archway of the sitting room, looking like he'd had a few too many at dinner tonight. I was surprised to see him. Whenever he went out with his entourage he usually stayed out. I wished he'd stayed out tonight.

"I don't know," I smirked, standing. "I'm useless at this crap. You know that better than anyone, don't you, Dad?"

He murmured something that sounded like, "useless at everything," but focused his attention on Sydney. "Miss Sage, it's late. You can go."

She flushed crimson, and I had the urge to brush her hair out of her face so I could get a look at her birthmark against the pink of her cheeks, but that wouldn't have gone over well with my dad. "Yes, of course. I'm sorry," Sydney mumbled over and over again as she fled our suite in a hurry.

"Stay away from her, will you?" Dad said. "She's too smart to get sucked into your black hole."

He stumbled into his bedroom and I sat back down on the couch, unsure if I was angry, annoyed, or embarrassed. Probably some mixture of all three.

###

"It's funny, actually," Sydney said, sipping her coffee.

Dad was in a meeting this afternoon with the rest of the suits, so he'd left her to her work in our suite. Honestly, it was earlier than I would've normally been awake, but I knew Sydney would be here. We'd been talking for the last half hour while she worked, but eventually, she'd exchanged her trusty highlighter for a cup of coffee and curled up on the couch beside me, work forgotten. At least, for the moment.

"After my professor suggested I intern at Ivashkov International, I realized one of my friends' boyfriends works here too. In security."

I knew some of the people in security. One was not so much a friend as a war machine. Well, he wasn't much of a friend either way. "Bet he loves getting bossed around by Belikov," I said, wondering who her friend's boyfriend was.

"Wait. You know Dimitri?" she asked, placing her coffee on the table. Her amber eyes were wide and she was smiling.

No way.

"Is Rose Hathaway your friend?" I asked, cautiously.

Her smile grew even wider. "Yeah! Do you know her—" Something like recognition flashed through her eyes suddenly. "Oh."

"Oh?" I asked.

She looked away and picked up her coffee again, fiddling with the mug. "You and Rose..." she said, hedging. When I didn't say anything she sighed. "I'm sorry for bringing it up. She told me she'd dated a guy before she got back together with Dimitri. A cute, rich guy."

"Oh," I said bitterly. "Nice to know she managed to include my best traits in the description."

Sydney looked at me and I couldn't tell if she was annoyed at me or for me. "She told me you were a great guy, but I didn't know you were... you know, you. I didn't know your name. But... I saw a picture of you once. I should have put it together. I'm sorry for bringing it up."

"It's okay," I said, shaking off the memories of Rose and how she'd dumped me for her ex-boyfriend. I was having a good time with Sydney, why let Rose ruin anything else in my life?

But it was weird after that. Sydney was friends with my ex, an ex I'd loved who'd cheated on me. It'd taken me a long time to forget Rose's fiery personality and lush body. Some days it was still that fire I saw when I closed my eyes. Sydney was quiet and had picked up her highlighter again. That wasn't the direction I wanted her going in.

"Sage, what do you do for fun?"

My question was so far out of left field that she blinked at me a few times before saying, "What?"

"Fun? The thing people usually do when they're vacationing on a beautiful island. But not you, clearly. So what do you do for fun?"

She still seemed puzzled by the question, but thought about it for a minute.

"I don't usually have much free time with my schedule, but... Well, I used to love going to classic car shows with my mom when I was younger. And reading."

"Reading was sort of a dead giveaway," I teased. "Cars are cool though. I've been thinking about buying a car. I have a driver, but having my own car would be awesome too."

"Please tell me you're not one of those rich guys who never bothered getting their license because they have a chauffeur to drive them everywhere?" She looked so serious I had to laugh.

"Would you never speak to me again if I was? Or maybe you could teach me?" I smirked at her. "I imagine you'd be a really hot teacher."

She gave me a look. "Adrian!"

"Relax," I told her, laughing. "I have my license. It's in my room, in case you want proof."

She laughed, relaxing after her near heart attack. "I believe you."

"What else do you do?" I asked. "I mean, you can't only read and look at cars."

"I don't just look at cars," she said, looking offended, which was kind of adorable. "My mom fixes cars as a hobby. My dad didn't really want her to work, but she fixes them up and sells them. She taught me a lot. I can change a flat tire in under five minutes," she bragged.

I grinned. "And I bet you can do it while speaking Spanish." I'd seen enough of her exchanges with the maids to know for a fact she could.

"Or Greek," she smiled. "Or German, Russian, French, Latin, and even conversational Japanese."

I gaped. "Seriously?"

"Shinken ni," she said, with what sounded like a Japanese accent.

"I don't know what that means, but it sounds badass." She laughed. "What? Did you join every foreign language club in college?"

"No," she said. "My dad just thought it was important to be able to communicate in all the major languages."

"Latin's a major language? I thought it was dead."

"It is, but most languages come from it, so..." She shrugged, playing with her pen, but turned to face me on the couch. Our knees were almost touching. "My dad's in crisis management. He travels all over the world with his company, cleaning up other people's messes. He trained me to work for him, but the idea of dedicating my life to making sure other people don't mess up their dreams just doesn't sound appealing to me. So instead of taking a high paying job and making him happy, I'm here. For free."

"Well, free and the view," I said, gesturing out onto the beach through the window behind us.

She sighed and leaned into the back of the couch, watching the waves crash against the shore, backlit by the warm afternoon sun. So maybe I'd been wrong about her. Maybe she hadn't been oblivious to the million dollar view, after all.

"It really is beautiful, isn't it?" she said dreamily. "In another few days I'll be back in my dorm dreaming about this place." She laughed to herself. "Probably only to be woken up by Rose pounding on my bedroom door."

Startled, I looked at her.

"Wait a second. You go to the same college as Rose?" I asked incredulously and she sat up and raised her eyebrows. "I mean, no offense to Rose or anything, I just had you pegged for an Ivy-leaguer."

She smiled. "No. St. Vlad's is a great school though. And anything is better than no school, which was my other option."

"Why?" I asked. "As clever as you are, I'm sure you could've gotten in anywhere. And probably with a full scholarship if you needed it."

"Maybe," she said, obviously trying to be modest. This girl knew how smart she was and I liked that about her. "But not on such short notice." She sighed and brushed a golden strand of hair behind her ear. "My dad is... well, he was pretty opposed to me going to college at all. I was home schooled and he felt he'd already taught me everything I needed to join the family business. And he did teach me a lot, but I've always loved learning and I wanted to keep learning, but he told me he wouldn't pay for it. Said it was a waste of time and money since I already had a job. I almost gave in to him too. But, my older sister Carly is in her senior year of college in Utah and she loves it. She and my Mom kept telling me I needed to do whatever made me happy, so..." She shrugged. "St. Vlad's accepted me late in the semester and gave me a full scholarship. With the condition I do two full-time internships a year, of course."

I wasn't sure what to say to that. My dad would've been happy if I'd gone to any school, no matter how much it cost. I'd signed up for classes at a college with a reputation as a party school and went to three, maybe four, classes before I'd dropped out. It felt like such a waste of resources after listening to Sydney's story. So, instead of telling her what a slacker I was, I decided to change the subject.

"So now you're here, working for my dear old dad."

Her amber eyes held a flicker of amusement, but she didn't smile. "He's not so bad, Adrian. I'm learning a lot from him. I was lucky to get chosen for this internship. A lot of people wanted it."

"He's alright at business, I guess." It was true, my dad was great at financial matters. He took his job very seriously. It was his duties as a husband and father that he shirked.

"But that doesn't mean he should talk to you the way he does," she said with a sigh.

She couldn't have startled me more if she'd leaned over and kissed me on the mouth. When I looked up at her I could see she was serious. How had we stumbled onto this topic?

I shrugged, trying to navigate around this new territory we were in. I liked talking to Sydney, but my dad was a sensitive subject for me. "He's always been hard on me. He likes everything done his way, stiff and by the book, and I like to have fun. That doesn't make me his favorite person most of the time."

She shook her head. "No, it's not about you having fun. You look at life differently than most of the people I know. Your dad should appreciate that, maybe even use it to his advantage. You're idea last night, about the ads department, was a good one. He shouldn't have brushed you off that way."

I wasn't sure if it was her words, or the way the sunlight shifted at that exact moment, making her hair look like spun gold glowing in the light, but my breath caught in my throat. She was so beautiful. More beautiful than I'd realized when I first met her. Her amber eyes shown with gold flecks and her usually serious expression was softened with a small smile. There was a very good chance she was the most beautiful girl on the island right at this moment; this stuffy bookworm, workaholic.

The idea made me smile even more than her belief in me did, but it also brought up other ideas. Ideas that involved my fingers running through her golden hair.

"Well, thanks, Sage," I said, standing because I suddenly needed distance between us if I wanted to keep from doing something stupid. "At least I know someone here realizes how totally awesome I am."

She stood too, shaking her head. But she was still smiling. "Now if you'd only let everyone else see your brilliance, they might see how totally awesome you are too."

"Awesome and brilliant?" I grinned and started to pull out my phone. "Oh, say it again, Sage. I need to get this on video or no one will ever believe me."

She rolled her eyes and elbowed me out of her way as she started to collect her things.

"You don't have to go," I told her, worried I'd made her think I was kicking her out. I just needed some space or else I might do something we'd both regret.

"No, it's fine," she smiled. "I have something else I need to work on back in my room. Your idea, actually."

My eyebrows pulled together, puzzled. "Your working on my idea? About the ads department?"

She walked to the door, shrugging like it was no big thing. "Yeah. Will you come to the meeting tomorrow, please? I've been running the numbers and I really do think your idea will work. We can try to pitch it to your dad together."

It was heartwarming that she believed in something I'd thought up so much that she was willing to put her credibility on the line for me, but I couldn't let her. If she upset Dad on my behalf, she could lose her internship. "You don't have to do that, Sage."

"I want to," she smiled. "I'll put together a presentation and everything. Just stop by my room a few hours before the meeting and we'll go over the details."

She turned to leave without waiting for an answer from me.

"Sydney!"

She turned back, startled at my use of her first name. "Yeah?"

"Thank you."

We just stared at each other for a few a moments, her warm brown eyes pulling me in, making me want to do all kinds of off limit things, and then she nodded and headed off to her room to work on a presentation for my idea.

###

I brought her lunch the next day.

Well, I had lunch delivered to her room. It wasn't the usual fancy dinner I'd buy a girl I was interested in, but Sydney looked thrilled about the salad I'd gotten her.

Whenever I saw her having lunch or dinner with my dad and the suits, she'd always take a few bites of whatever my dad ordered for everyone—because he was an order-for-the-table kind of guy—and then push her food around for the rest of the meal. I figured she was just distracted during working lunches, but then the other day I'd caught her eyeing some of the girls walking by our hotel suite—particularly their spectacular bikini clad bodies—with a frown. After that I was certain she must have some sort of dieting hang up. Wasn't sure why, though. If anything she was too skinny.

I made a mental note to get her to go out with me to eat before we left the island, get some calories in her. I'd tell her we couldn't leave without trying the local rum cake first. I figured the rum might not appeal to her, but immersing herself in the local culture might.

"Here," she said, putting her salad down and turning her laptop to face me. A pie chart filled the screen; colorful, but otherwise meaningless to me."See how much of the annual budget goes towards advertising," she said, pointing at a blue section of the graph. "Now look here. This is Tarasov Financial's advertising department's budget."

"They look the same," I said, trying to stay interested, despite the mention of Tarasov.

"Well, they are, right now, but if we... Adrian?"

I turned to look at her, realizing I'd stopped paying attention. "Sorry."

She frowned and closed her laptop. While she was scooting over beside me, I caught a scent of her shampoo and took a deep breath. She smelled like jasmine. "What's wrong?" she asked.

"Nothing, I'm fine. What were you saying about the budget?" I reached out to grab her laptop, but she grabbed my arm. A warm tingling feeling erupted where her fingers touched me and I stared at her hand.

She followed my gaze to her hand and then pulled back. "Adrian, I've heard rumors. About..."

"About my mom?" I said, a little harsher than I'd meant to. She flinched, but nodded. "It's okay. I don't really want to talk about it."

"Okay," she said softly. When her hand found my arm again to give it a little squeeze, I almost lost it at the warmth that spread from her delicate fingertips. I hadn't had anyone comfort me since before my mom... "But if you ever want to," Sydney went on, "I'm right here."

We, thankfully, moved on to lighter topics after that. We talked about her favorite cars, and her favorite subjects in school. She loved art history, and since art was the only subject I'd had any interest in in college or high school, I was able to add some points of my own to the conversation. I told her we were going to get rum cake one of these days—an offer she adamantly refused, but said she'd be more than happy to watch me eat it.

"How do you handle a real date if you won't even go out for a little cake?" I asked. "What do you tell the guy, 'Sorry. I don't eat food'?"

"I eat food," she defended. "Just not that high calorie stuff you like. Fruits, vegetables."

"Boring stuff."

She ignored me. "Healthy food that's good for me."

"But cake is good for your soul," I pointed out.

"But very bad for your thighs," she said, looking serious as ever.

"Trust me when I say there's absolutely nothing cake could do to ruin your thighs," I said, glancing at her legs. "And the guys you date let you get away with ordering fruits and nuts? If that's the case, you need to ditch them, Sage. They don't have your best interests at heart."

She flushed and for a moment I was worried I might have went too far. Maybe she had a boyfriend at home that shared her love of squirrel food. But then she glanced away, embarrassed.

"Well, I haven't really... I mean I don't have time to... you know, date."

I stared at her burning cheeks. I could just make out her lily birthmark, but I was too distracted by this new information to really admire it. "You don't date?"

She shook her head.

"Like, ever?"

Her scowl was adorable when mixed with the blush.

"I'm sorry," I told her. "But you've never dated anyone? Seriously? No one?"

She looked down at the graph in front of her, pretending to focus on it. "Not really. I mean, I guess there was one guy. Brayden."

"That was his actual name?"

She gave me a look that shut me up, before continuing.

"He worked at the same coffee shop as my friend Trey, who thought it would be a good idea to set us up. We went out a few times, but... I don't know. We never really clicked."

I nodded. "Sexually, you mean?"

"What?" The look on her face was totally worth it. "No! That's not–I mean, that is—"

I gasped in mock horror. "Are you trying to tell me that Sydney Sage, hot accountant supreme, is a virgin?"

She clamped her mouth together looking like she didn't know if she wanted to hit me or laugh.

"Relax," I told her, laughing myself. "I figured that was the case. I was just looking for confirmation."

"What do you mean 'you figured'?" She sounded offended. "Do I have the word virgin stamped on my forehead or something?"

"No, you just..." My smile faded when I realized this was actually upsetting her. "You're, I don't know... more innocent than most of the girls I know. It's cute, seriously. Don't worry about it."

She huffed, but looked away, turning back to her laptop and pulling up the presentation she was working on.

"Sage, don't be mad."

"I'm not mad at you," she said, but continued to pound away at her keyboard. "I just don't want to be seen that way."

"What way?"

"As some pure, untouchable creature," she sighed.

"I don't think of you as untouchable," I told her. God, I had never wanted to touch anyone more than I wanted to touch her.

She turned to face me. "But you just said—"

"That you were innocent, not that you were untouchable or any nonsense like that. Why would you even think that?"

"Because this guy..." She took a deep breath. "This guy, Keith, who works for my dad. Right before we came out here, he told me I'd made a mistake by moving to L.A. He said I was too naive and innocent to make it on my own. He said people would find a way to take advantage of me because I didn't know any better."

"Well, this Keith guy sounds like a real asshole, if you ask me." She laughed but she didn't sound happy. "And he sounds like he was trying to manipulate you himself. You didn't fall for it, so what does that say?"

"I know," she said. "I know, and Keith is absolutely the last person in the world I'd ever listen to, it's just... I don't want the world to see me as a child or pure or innocent. All I've ever been was reliable and responsible and boring. I never got to goof off or date or have fun."

"Problem solved then, Sage," I grinned. "Just hang out with me enough and you won't be considered any of those things anymore."

She laughed and bumped me with her knee. "That's true. I've heard your reputation. But," she said, sobering. "I don't believe any of it."

"No, most of it's pretty true," I assured her with a smile.

She shook her head and leaned closer. "Maybe, but it's not who you really are. You get to pretend that's who you are, because people expect it, but inside," she touched her fingers to my chest, "in here, I believe you're more than what you portray."

We were already so close, it only took a small movement to bring our lips together. Her mouth was impossibly soft and tasted faintly of the dressing she'd drizzled on her salad. Her lips grew firmer, fiercer as the kiss stretched. She leaned into me, her arms snaking around my neck and pulling us closer together. My fingertips ran up the back of her neck before tangling in her soft, luscious hair. Her touch was electric and, from her little breathy gasps when I ran my hand down her spine, I knew mine was having a similar effect on her.

As quickly as I had started it, she ended it, pulling away. Her wide brown eyes were bright and her lips swollen and pink from kissing. She looked sexier than I could have ever imagined. But the terrified look in her eye sort of ruined the effect.

"What are you doing?" she demanded, scooting away from me and standing.

"I don't know," I said, getting to my feet myself. I was still smiling. "But I'm pretty sure you were doing it too."

"That's not the point!" She shook her head, backing up. "It's... it's wrong."

"Wrong?" I said. "I don't know, Sage. Honestly, that was the most right thing that's happened to me in a while." I didn't pursue her though. Even though the kiss had clearly been a consensual thing, she was freaking out now, and I didn't want to push her.

"You can't... We shouldn't have done that. I work for your dad. It's inappropriate." She glanced behind her at the clock on the wall. "I have a meeting with your dad in a half hour. You need to leave. Now."

"Sydney."

"Now, Adrian. It's wrong and it's not something that can happen again, so just go. I need to... I need to get ready for my meeting."

She thanked me for lunch and then turned and went into the bedroom, probably locking the door behind her so I wouldn't be able to follow.

###

I wasn't sure if I should go to the meeting anymore.

Sage had told me last night to go, that we'd present the idea to my dad together. But now everything was different. We'd been getting along, but I'd ruined it with that kiss. That kiss that I couldn't get out of my head, even after an hour at the beach bar.

Finally I decided to swing by the meeting. I wouldn't say anything, just watch her make her presentation. I knew they'd be wrapping up soon and my dad would make Sydney wait until the very end of the meeting to present her idea.

When I got there she was already finishing up the presentation. Her graphs and charts were being displayed on a huge white screen and though she looked completely professional and totally in her element, I could tell she was nervous.

"As you can see," she said, pointing at the colorful pie graph she'd made. "By integrating Tarasov Financial's current advertising team, Ivashkov International will save millions in the long run."

She looked over to see me standing near the back of the room. She looked surprised that I'd showed, but she smiled. I took that as a good sign. My dad followed her gaze and scowled.

"Adrian," he said. "Miss Sage tells us this was your idea."

I looked at Sydney, wondering why she'd bothered to give me credit when she'd done all of the work. "Partly, sir," I said.

"Yet you couldn't be bothered to show up on time for the meeting." He shook his head and turned to Sydney. "Well done, Miss Sage. I'll have my men look over your report and see if it's feasible." Then he threw me another glance. "You should take notes from Sydney, Adrian. That's how you pitch an idea you want taken seriously."

He turned and left the room, his entourage of corporate yes-men following in his wake. Sydney carefully cleaned up her belongings, waiting for everyone to leave. But once they were gone she turned to me, beaming.

"We did it!" Her excitement radiated off of her and swelled in my chest, apparently dissipating all of the weirdness between us. "Our presentation blew them away!"

"Your presentation," I corrected, but smiled back. Her smile could be contagious when she really meant it. I was surprised she was smiling at me at all after her angry dismissal earlier.

She gave me a look. "It was your idea, Adrian. All I did was research and organize your thoughts into a couple of graphs."

"Yeah, that's all you did." I shook my head. "Sage, you really need to take credit when credit's due or you'll never make it in this company. You're just lucky it's me you're sharing the glory with and not one of those other idiots," I said, gesturing out the door the way the yes-men just went. "They'd all steal your idea in a heartbeat if it meant a raise or a promotion."

"Well, than I'm lucky," she said, grinning. "Because I know you'd never do that to me."

It was like the tension between us suddenly kicked up a notch. It felt like a palpable thing, filling the large conference space until we were forced to step closer to one another just to get away from its crushing presence. I didn't want to do anything she didn't want to do, but she was right in front of me and she didn't look mad anymore.

"No, I wouldn't," I agreed. I reached out and gently ran a finger up her jaw, brushing her hair out of her face.

Then, suddenly, we were kissing, as if she hadn't just told me a few hours ago how inappropriate kissing the boss's son was. Her arms looped around my neck and I hooked an arm around her waist, pulling her closer. The crush of her mouth on mine was hungry and yearning and I met it with equal passion. In one fluid motion I twisted us around and lifted her onto the conference table, wrapping her legs around my waist. My lips trailed down her chin to the pale skin of her neck. I sucked and nipped my way up and down the column of her throat, earning a needy gasp when I kissed her especially hard right below her ear.

I would've continued to explore that sensitive spot if we weren't interrupted.

"Oh, I'm sorry," one of the housekeepers for the hotel apologized. We glanced up to see her backing out of the room. "I'll come back when you're... finished with the room."

Sydney's face was a thousand shades of red as she untangled herself from me and hopped off the table. "Oh, no! We're finished. It's fine, come in."

The housekeeper looked hesitant, but decided to come in when she saw Sydney move away from me, grab her briefcase and hurry from the room. Without so much as a backward glance at me.

###

I didn't see Sydney at all the next day.

I wasn't sure if she was really confused about her feelings for me, or if she was playing mind games. A beautiful girl messing with my head? Wouldn't be the first time, but I knew in my heart it wasn't like that with Sydney. She was legitimately confused about how she felt and what to do about it. I had to respect that.

And respecting it, it seemed, was the key to success. Sydney texted me that night saying she'd been busy with work all day. She didn't elaborate or even say why she was texting, but I didn't push. I texted her back, telling her about my day and asking about hers. We texted for most of the night and the next morning.

It was a free day for her after working all day yesterday to help Dad push through the last of the paperwork and contracts. Now there was nothing left to do but sit back and wait for everything to run its course. We were all going back to Los Angeles tomorrow, but for today we could do anything we wanted.

The first thing I wanted was to get lunch in one of the local restaurants. Sydney agreed and I even managed to get her to eat a piece of rum cake. We didn't kiss or even bring up any of the stuff that'd happened between us, but we were okay, I could feel it. After lunch, though, Sydney tried to escape back to her room when I suggested we go to the beach.

"Come on, Sage," I pleaded as we walked back to the resort suites. "Even my dad's taking the whole afternoon off today. Get your bathing suit on and come to the beach with me. It'll be fun."

"I have a lot to do still. There's some paperwork left to organize and I still have to pack. Besides, I didn't bring a bathing suit."

That stopped me in my tracks. "You're spending a week here," I gestured out towards the ocean, "on an island, and you didn't pack a bathing suit?"

She shrugged, like the thought hadn't even occurred to her. "I came here to work, not hang out by the pool."

"No, no, no." I shook my head. "You're going to go right now and get a bikini and then we are going to the beach. You cannot come to the Caribbean for a week without going to the beach even once."

She cocked her head playfully and smiled. "Who says?"

"Me! Now go." I pushed her in the direction of the gift shop. "Quickly, before I decide to buy you a bikini myself. Something tells me you won't like the one I pick out for you."

Her eyes widened in mock horror and she made a big show of hurrying off, making me laugh. I was already wearing swim trunks so I just leaned against the railing and watched the surf come in. As I waited for her to get back my mind cycled through a number of fantasies, all centering on Sydney in skimpy bikinis and covered in damp sand. The really good ones were the ones where she was only wearing the sand.

"Happy now?" she called, teasing as she walked down the pathway to the beach, fluffy towel in hand. But it wasn't the towel that had caught my eye. How she'd managed to make it all the way to the beach wearing that without having a herd of drooling men following her was beyond me.

The bikini she'd chosen was a dark purple that played well against her pale skin. Skin that I could only imagine was as soft and smooth as it appeared. I knew Sydney had a thing about her body image, but damn. You'd never know why just by looking at her. The reality of her body was more amazing than any of my fantasies could ever hope to be.

We walked down the beach towards an outcropping of rocks, talking at first and then not. I took her hand and she interlaced our fingers. It was a companionable silence, a silence that spoke more than words could. A silence that not only made me want to touch her, to feel her skin on mine, but to know her. Really know her in a way no one else ever could. I wanted to sneak into her soul and know every thought, every secret that swirled around inside her head. She was beautiful and brilliant and kind and I wanted to know all of her.

After a while we settled down on the sand and she leaned her head against my shoulder.

"Tell me what happened with your mom?" she whispered.

"You haven't googled it by now?" It surprised me that she hadn't. She seemed to love researching things.

But she shook her head. "It's not my place. You're the only one who gets to tell me. If you want to, that is."

I did want to. I wanted her to know all of my secrets too. But this one was difficult for me to talk about with anyone.

"She's in jail. For insider trading," I said, the words coming slowly at first, but once I started, I found I didn't want to stop. "About a year ago Dad tried to buy out Tarasov. A few of his more high profile friends owned stock in that company and he told them to get out. People caught on, my mom took the fall. She claimed she'd overheard some of Dad's work related calls about the buyout and wanted to help her friends out."

Sydney reached over and grabbed my hand in hers. Until her soft fingers pried my stiff ones apart I hadn't realized how tense I'd become. I hated the thought of my mom taking the blame for something my dad had obviously done. "But Mom wasn't interested in anyone's finances but her own, and Dad wasn't home enough for her to overhear many conversations. And whenever he was she and I avoided him like the plague."

I took a deep breath to compose myself. "And now, a year later, he's merging with Tarasov and Mom's in prison. It's a real prison too, not one of those swanky low security ones where the prisoners play tennis and sip champagne. The judge was sick of rich and famous people getting away with stuff or something. So he wanted to make an example out of her. I haven't seen her since she went away. She won't take my calls. My dad says it's because she can't bear to hear any more bad news while she's in a place like that. And any news from me is bound to be bad news."

I didn't have to look at Sydney to know there was sympathy in her beautiful amber eyes. She leaned in and touched her lips to the corner of my mouth in a featherlight kiss. When my head turned to meet hers straight on she kissed me again. And again and again; the fervor of our kisses growing with each brush of her lips against my skin. Before long we were rolling around in the damp sand, kissing and touching in a way that felt electric, yet comforting. Real.

A wave crashed to the shore around us, causing Sydney to gasp and pull away as the lukewarm water surged over our bodies. We were wet and covered in sand and salt, but for some reason we were laughing.

I grabbed her hand and hauled her to her feet, tugging her toward the outcropping of rocks where we could sit while high tide rolled in. Once we were tucked away behind a few of the bigger boulders we wasted no time getting back to kissing.

I'd kissed plenty of girls in the past, but I'd never kissed a girl like this. It wasn't kissing for kissing's sake, or because I wanted it to lead to sex—though I was hoping that option wasn't completely out of the realm of possibilities. Kissing Sydney was like breathing or like some essential food I hadn't realized I was missing until I'd tasted it. It was the most intense kiss I'd ever had.

"Should we be doing this?" she asked through our kisses.

"No one can see us over here," I said, pushing her back against the rocks to tuck us even further away from the eyes of fellow beach goers. I fingered the string ties on her bikini top.

Sydney pulled away and I groaned at the loss of her lips. Her expression was serious enough that I didn't complain, though. "I mean all of this. I've heard stories of interns who were fired for getting involved with you," she said, clearly upset by the prospect.

I felt a brief flash of anger that someone at my father's company was talking crap about me to her. I narrowed my eyes. "I wouldn't say they were fired because of any involvement they had with me. More like they wanted more than I was offering and had the idiotic idea to mention it in front of my father."

Sydney crossed her arms over her chest which only enhanced the view to the point where I had trouble maintaining eye contact. "So you're saying they were fired for acting unprofessional in the work place. Like we did in the conference room the other day?"

I grimaced and ran a hand through my damp hair. "Yeah, alright. Maybe that wasn't the best idea either of us has ever had. But it's fine. No one saw us, except the housekeeper."

She still looked wary, but she dropped her arms and I reached out to hook her fingers with mine. "I don't know, Adrian," she said quietly, watching me play with her fingers. "It feels like an awful lot at stake for something that's not going to last." She glanced up at me, her eyes wide. "Because it isn't, right? This is just a fling. It's inevitable, being in such a beautiful, romantic place—"

"It doesn't feel like a fling," I said, stopping her. "This feels like something I want to continue once we're back in L.A."

"But you just said those girls wanted more than you were offering."

"To those girls," I argued. "But, Sydney. You're not those girls."

She smiled, but still looked hesitant. "You're just saying that because you want to get my bikini off."

Stepping closer, I leaned my forehead against hers and squeezed her hand. "No. I'm saying that because it's the truth. And," I sighed and stepped back, releasing her. "As much as it pains me to say this, because it's the truth I shouldn't be trying to get your bikini off just yet."

I was pretty sure she appreciated that, but something in her eyes made me suspect she was equally frustrated by my act of chivalry.

"You'd pass up sex just to prove this isn't a fling?" she asked.

"No, I'd pass up sex because I know this has the potential to turn into something real if we take our time and go slow. Besides," I smirked, "losing your virginity on a beach might sound romantic, but trust me when I say it probably wouldn't be very comfortable. Or private."

She snorted and I dragged her over to a small edge of the rocks where we could sit and watch the waves lap against the sand. She leaned her head against my shoulder and I felt her relax.

"We'll have plenty of time for all that stuff when we get back to L.A. Plus, your internship only lasts until the end of the summer, right? You'll be back in college before you know it, and then no one at the company can say anything to you about dating me. Not even my dad." I laughed. "Well, actually, my dad might think I did something right for once if I brought you home for Christmas."

She fidgeted for a moment before looking up at me. "You're already thinking about bringing me home for Christmas?"

I smiled, brushing a little sand from her cheek to reveal her lily. "I'm already thinking about doing a lot of things with you."

Then I leaned down and kissed her again.

It took a long time, and a lot of restraint, to pull away from that kiss, but we finally managed to do it. The sun was setting and we both agreed it was for the best that no one saw us out after dark together. With a reputation like mine, being seen at night with a beautiful girl like Sydney was guaranteed to start gossip and that was the last thing we wanted. Not when this internship meant so much to her future.

And not when I suspected—hoped—she was going to mean so much to mine.