Note from the translator: all things Twilight belong to Stephenie Meyer, and Collisions is a story by the very lovely and popular French author Drinou, who wants to thank you, my dear English speaking readers, for all your enthusiastic comments. She also wishes you all a very happy New Year 2012. Good reading.

Chapter 6: Contact

My face hit a surface that was both hard and soft and I was enclosed by what looked very much like arms.

And this smell…

"You can't stop yourself from ending up in my arms, Isabella?"

This voice…

He tightened the grip of his arms and my body pressed a little more against his.

Lord!

His tempting, captivating and intoxicating scent filled my lungs. My face was glued to his perfect torso; his hands were on my hips… I felt my heart rate speed and bolt in my chest. I was in heaven, being so close to hell.

But for once, my brain didn't switch to standby mode at the first opportunity. His body might enthrall me, but the sound of his voice brought back to my memory the last sentences I'd heard him utter. My anger got the upper hand over everything else.

"Her? She's just the new switchboard operator/hostess sent here by N.Y.E."

Scornful asshole!

"I believe it was quite a feat for her this morning not to spill my coffee when she brought it to me."

Ahhhhh!

Even though my body was magnetized to his by some sort of physical attraction, I was way too angry to endure his questionable humor and scathing sentences.

"Let me go," I spat.

His arms remained motionless around my waist and I could feel the vibrations of his laughter in his chest, as he held me tight against him.

"I said let me go," I repeated in a cold and hard voice while putting my hand on his chest to push him away.

Hmm… As firm and strong as in my memories…

My thoughts exasperated me. This man, as detestable as he was, was able, God knows how, to get my hormones to boil over simply by standing next to me. And the worst part was, I couldn't deny I felt good in his arms…

Betrayed by my own body. Pathetic!

"The kitten shows her claws today," he laughed.

He loosened his arms at once and I staggered dangerously on the stairs. I rested on my right foot to support myself and swore when a sharp pain darted into my ankle. I felt his hand squeeze my arm to steady me.

"Is it my presence at your side that disturbs your balance, Isabella?"

A slap. Come on, just one! No? Pfft, pity…

I tempered my thoughts as best as I could, but jeez, it would feel so good to give him one there, right away. Just a little slap to put his ideas back into place and erase the smirk on his flawless face.

"The world doesn't revolve around you," I said.

Surprised by my repartee, which usually was non-existent in his presence, I released my arm from his grip and sat down on a step to check the damage on my sore ankle. He stood still in front of me, silent, watching me as I massaged the source of my pain.

"Today of all days," I muttered, noting that my ankle was beginning to swell. Shit!

"Really feisty, this kitten," he went on, leaning toward me.

I gasped as his face came within inches to mine. The smell of his skin, so close now, was completely intoxicating. This man wanted my death by being so irresistible and so execrable.

"I like to hear you growl," he whispered against my ear.

He put one of his hands on my knee and gently brushed it across the top of my calve, slowly going down to reach my sore ankle and caressing my skin through the mesh of my stockings while doing so. He touched a sensitive spot that I didn't even suspect I had at the back of my knee, and I had to bite my lip not to moan. My heart rate bolted with a vengeance and a thousand butterflies flew in my stomach. This action, however trivial, suddenly took a more sensual connotation in my haywire mind.

"But I prefer to hear you meowing," he murmured in my ear.

Alert! Alert! This man wants my death by spontaneous combustion. Help!

Red lights began to flash in my head and a loud alarm sounded to warn me of an impending danger. What just happened? And did I hear right what he just said? And most of all, how did he manage to put me in such a state while doing so little? He still succeeded in making me groan by simply brushing my knee… I was now certain that this man wanted my demise, for at this rate I was going to become totally insane.

He crouched in front of me and took my shoe off.

"But, what the…" I started, struggling to escape his grasp.

"Draw your claws in," he said as he checked my ankle through my stockings.

He looked at it carefully for a few seconds that seemed like an eternity. Feeling his hands on my body, even if it was only my ankle, was driving me crazy. Ramrod straight, I waited for the sweet torture he was inflicting on me to end. His fingers pressed on the very root of my pain, and a shrill whistle came out of my lips.

"Don't be such a wuss," he mocked. "You only have a slight sprain," he added while releasing my leg at last, not without brushing again that little extremely sensitive spot behind my knee.

I moved away from him as if he were the devil himself, putting my shoe back on in haste, and I looked at him with a surprised, almost bewildered expression on my face.

What was this demeanor? Had he really been… nice?

"Uh… Thanks," I managed to say, not without a slight hesitation in my voice.

I would never understand this man. He was the most obnoxious human being I'd ever met, and yet now he'd just been nice. I still couldn't believe it.

He hit his head while getting up this morning or what?

"You'd really do anything just to end up in my arms, wouldn't you, Isabella?"

Wh-What?

My eyes widened as he straightened up. I looked at him, stunned.

The bastard with the face of an angel is back. Great! It had been a long time!

His emerald eyes gazed at me and his everlasting crooked smile appeared on his face as he began to walk up the stairs. I heard his laughter echoing behind me in the distance and the fury that had possessed me earlier returned in force.

Ahhhh!

How could I have believed for a split second that this jerk had been nice with me? He may have had a burst of humanism, but his true nature had quickly returned. Leopards don't change their spots.

I suddenly realized that I'd lost ten precious minutes with all that. I stood up hastily while bitching out loud. I already had very little time ahead of me for my presentation, and now I was further behind. Unfortunately, I realized as soon as I made one step, that with a slight sprain it was impossible for me to walk. The throbbing pain was spreading through my whole leg each time my foot touched the ground.

The only option left to me was to take a cab. Even though New York was the city with the largest number of taxis, finding one available at this time of the day was nearly an impossible mission.

The minutes went by and I was ranting when finally one of them stopped dead right in front of me like the messiah.

God exists!

I opened the back door and started to engulf myself inside, hobbling.

"Bobst library, please."

"Sorry, Miss, but this cab is reserved," the driver informed me.

…Or not…

"What?" I exclaimed.

It was definitely not my day.

"I can call another one for you, but at this hour you might wait for quite a long while. I'm sorry."

"So be it. Thank you anyway," I said while springing out of the vehicle, and that's when a warm breath on my neck stopped me in my tracks.

"You were waiting for me, Isabella?"

Am I victim of a curse?

My body stiffened instantly. I should have known, with my legendary luck, that it was his taxi. Whom else could it be for otherwise? Just several hundred other people!

Exasperated by the bad luck that seemed to be chasing me, I finished pulling out of Mister Cullen's cab. Unfortunately, because of said bad luck, I suddenly found myself stuck between the yellow sheet metal of the taxi and Edward Cullen's dream body, aka my fantasy on two legs or should I rather say a beautiful bastard. Taken by surprise, I jumped as I felt his body press against mine and his face come dangerously close, reducing the safety zone between our respective mouths way too much.

Lost somewhere between here and his emerald eyes that stared at me mischievously, I fought with all my will so as to control this traitorous body of mine that always acted its own way when Mister Perfect was around. It was already difficult for me to act normally when I was in the same room than him. Now it was clearly an impossible mission to do so as his flawless torso brushed my chest with each of my shuttering breaths.

Red alert, Bella's in distress!

His lips so close to mine, the internal alarm shouting at me to run away went silent, leaving absolutely nothing in my head. Apparently my brain had deserted the area a while ago. I held my breath in anticipation, enjoying this strange and haunting feeling that his breath on my skin was inducing. Closing my eyes, I surrendered, too eager to taste his soft and sweet lips again.

"I didn't know you missed me so much, Isabella."

His warm breath on my neck generated multiple shivers on my epidermis and I was totally disoriented when I reopened my eyes to drown in his own, which were laughing and mocking.

Have mercy and kill me!

My cheeks caught on fire, giving him the satisfaction of having destabilized me once more. His perfect little lopsided smile on his face, he rushed into the taxi.

Give me a weapon, so I can put an end to my torment…

Internally lambasting myself for this umpteenth moment of weakness, I walked away from the vehicle, still preferring limping to the library rather than staying there for one more minute.

"I don't have all day, Isabella."

"Excuse me?" I spat as I turned to the cab.

Edward Cullen, settled at the rear of the vehicle, was looking at me while presenting the empty space next to him.

"Looking for a taxi, right?"

I nodded.

"Well, here is one," he added.

Okay, very funny. Congrats on the joke. Where is the camera?

I was torn between a profusion of conflicting feelings. First, I wanted to run away at full speed, even though given the present circumstances I wouldn't be able to go far with my lame ankle. The desire to send him flying was there too; I was itching to tell him to get lost, except that he was still my boss, and if I spoke my mind, I'd get myself a one-way to unemployment. I could absolutely not afford that option, unfortunately. Besides, I wanted to go, to get into that cab and come what may. I needed to get to the library as soon as possible, and Edward Cullen was offering me the best way to achieve that very quickly. Much faster than hopping on one foot for several miles, anyway.

"And what should I expect?" I snapped. "You'll shut the cab door before I can get inside, just to humiliate me again?"

Wow, Bella, you have guts! It's a change.

All of a sudden, his face went blank.

"Very well, then," he said, grabbing the door to close it.

Shit!

"Wait!" I cried.

At this point, I could put my pride aside for a few more seconds. As quickly as possible, I made my way back to the taxi, limping with difficulty. He opened the door and moved to make room for me on the back seat. I got inside and stayed glued to the door after closing it.

The taxi driver cast a glance at us through his rearview mirror and started the vehicle.

"The Bobst library?" he asked me.

"Yes, please," I replied with a small voice, once again intimidated by the proximity of Edward Cullen.

And then, in complete silence, the taxi rushed into the ever-dense downtown New York traffic.

I made it a point to stare at the horizon right before me, and most of all to not turn my head to my right, afraid that I might meet his gaze. The library was not very far, yet the trip seemed to last forever.

Goddamn traffic jam!

My taxi mate was busy on the phone, one professional call following after another unrelentingly, giving order after order using the authoritative, cold and contemptuous tone that characterized him so well. And when my own phone started ringing, I couldn't help but jump. After a few seconds of struggling to find it amid the mess of my purse, I finally managed to seize and answer it.

"Hi Jake," I whispered on the phone.

"Bella? Why are you whispering? Going down on your dear boss, perhaps?" he chuckled.

I heard him burst out laughing like hell at his joke at the other end of the phone while I was liquefying on my seat, praying all the gods on earth and other planets around that he didn't hear anything.

"Uh, for no reason," I briskly evaded. "What's up with you?" I inquired, eager to end this conversation.

I didn't want Edward Cullen to learn anything about me through this communication, and knowing that he was right next to me, listening, made me nervous.

"Well, there's a special event held at the Zanzibar tonight and I managed to get two invitations. Feel like going?"

"Tonight?"

"Yes."

"What kind of special event?"

"VIP Night. I've been told there will be a lot of beautiful people."

"Okay. At what time?"

"I'll pick you up at 10 p.m., if it suits you?"

"10 p.m. Okay, I'll be ready."

"Hey Bells…"

"Hum?"

"Business attire required."

"Okay, see you tonight," I said before hanging up.

I put my cell phone away and nervously returned to contemplating the windshield in front of me by the small space between the passenger seat and the door. I cursed once again at the traffic jams that made this torture last more than necessary.

After yet another ten minutes, the southeast corner of Washington Square Park was finally in sight.

Hallelujah!

The taxi stopped in front of the great library and I cast a quick glance at the meter. I held out a twenty-dollar bill to the driver.

"We have an account with the Cullen Corp., Miss. I can't accept cash money," he informed me.

Why did it always get complicated at one time or another?

I turned nervously in my seat and then I handed my bill directly to Edward Cullen. He looked at me and turned his gaze to the twenty dollars with disdain, and finally back to me.

"It's on the house, Isabella."

His smile reappeared on his face. Why did it instantly make me want to jump on him?

Hmm… in the back seat…

I pulled myself together immediately. If I let my thoughts wander along this path, I could probably not be held responsible for my actions.

But still, the back seat…

Desperate times calling for desperate measures, I mentally slapped myself – you would think that I was missing a good slap – and I finally managed to control my overflowing imagination.

"I don't want to owe you anything," I told him, handing the bill forward with insistence.

His smile broadened at my reaction.

So he likes when people stand up to him or what?

He leaned toward me, once again reducing the distance between us, and already I could feel my heartbeat go berserk in my chest.

"In that case, find another boss," he whispered with a smile.

And now, still not allowed to slap him? Not even a little one?

Anger chased the butterflies in my stomach away and took possession of my whole body. I clenched my jaw and my fists and I gazed at him without faltering.

"My boss is called Mike Newton, not Edward Cullen," I spat while opening my door.

I began to extract myself from the car.

"Thanks for the taxi ride," I added.

I put the twenty-dollar bill on the back seat before leaving the vehicle and walking away from it with a limp.

I want to thank my new beta Lizzard43 for her precious help.

Also, you might be happy to learn that when I'm done translating The slave who wouldn't obey, I'll be able to update this story more often.

Ciao

Milk