Title: Planning a Revenge Chapter 5
Author: Ashley
E-mail: Nuriko56@hotmail.com
Standard Disclaimer Apply
 
 
"SERENA? What the hell do you think you're playing at?" 
	She knew she should have let the phone ring, but she never had been able 
to do that, always fearing that the one time she did it would be a matter of 
life and death at the other end. But Darien sounded mad, blazingly angry…
	"I searched the house and gardens for you. I don't know how many times, 
and then Sammy, my doorman, tell me that you left earlier. Are you completely 
stupid? Why the hell didn't you get my driver to take you home if you were in 
such a hurry to leave?"
	"I…I ordered a taxi," she said weakly.
	"Where from?" he barked furiously. "It wasn't my house, was it?"
	She thought about lying, but he was so mad it didn't seem to make any 
difference, and so she admitted, "The pub up the road."
	"The pub up the road." He echoed her voice in tones of utter disbelief. 
"You mean to tell me you were so desperate to get away that you risked life 
and limb wandering about in the dark?"
	"Hardly." This was getting ridiculous, and she hadn't does anything 
wrong, Serena thought rebelliously, apart from ducking out of his precious 
party, that was. And as far as she had been able to see he had quickly found 
other company to keep him happy. The thought of the beautiful blonde put 
strength back into her voice as she continued, "The road is perfectly well 
lit, and it's now only--" she glanced at her little wooden wall clock--"half 
past ten."
	"Serena, a young mother with two children in tow was molested only last 
week a few streets from here," Darien said with bitingly cold control. "How do 
you think I would have felt if something similar had happened to you?"
	"I really don't know," she answered in the same tone of voice he had 
used, "but as I'm absolutely fine it isn't relevant one way or the other, is 
it?"
	"What's the matter with you--?"
	"Nothing is the matter with me," she interrupted, with as much disdain 
as she could muster. "I just don't happen to like men who invite a girl to a 
party and then think they have the right to paw her in return for a dinner and 
a drink or two."
	There was absolute silence on the other end of the phone, and then he 
said, his voice icy, "Have you always been such a bitch, or have you been 
taking lessons?"
	Serena slammed down the receiver so hard it immediately jumped up again 
and took the whole telephone crashing to the floor, whereupon she burst into 
tears and sank down beside it.
	She felt better after she had had a good cry, although she found she had 
given herself a thudding headache. After soaking in a long, hot bath for an 
hour, she blow-dried her hair into a riot of tumbling curls about her 
shoulders, donned her nightie, and went to bed with a mug of hot sweet milk 
and two aspirins. She had closed her mind to all thoughts of Darien Chiba when 
she was in the water, but found it less easy to stop him intruding once she 
was lying in a darkened room with sleep a million miles away.
	She had made a complete and utter fool of herself tonight, she thought 
miserably, as she tossed and turned until the bed was a heap of tangled 
covers. She had planned to be so cool and elegant, so scathing when she told 
him what she thought of him, and instead she had reacted like a scalded cat 
when he had kissed her, and then further compounded the mistake b scuttling 
home like a frightened rabbit.
	She thumped the pillow irritably, but no matter how she pummeled it into 
shape it seemed to have developed bricks inside.
	He wouldn't contact her again, of course. He must think she was some 
sort of lunatic, and a bitchy one at that--his words had rankled far more than 
they should have done--but that was all to the good in the long run. Of course 
it was, she told herself firmly, her heart as heavy as lead. If she wasn't 
going to confront Darien about Raye--and Serena had to admit she wasn't at all 
sure if she could now she had seen Amy--then it was best she never laid eyes 
on him again. And certainly after tonight he would have lost any interest he 
might have had in her. Which was good. Fine. Perfect. She thumped the pillow 
with enough force to knock out Mike Tyson.
	The night dragged on, and eventually a gentle September dawn heralded a 
fine warm Sunday morning, the birds singing and chirping in the old grimly 
tree outside her bedroom window, as thought they knew this was one of the last 
pleasant days before the onset of colder autumn weather.
	It was a relief to rise and join the rest of the world, and after a 
shower and a hasty breakfast, of toast and grapefruit marmalade, Serena donned 
a short-sleeved top and jogging trousers and went for a long run in the nearby 
park.
	She saw several of the regulars there, who usually made a weekend 
morning, and as always they joined together and ran in a group, exchanging 
banter and light-hearted gossip, before they all left the park and called in 
at Crowd Café just round the corner for a second breakfast of wickedly high-
calorie fried food.
	By the time Serena left the others she felt much more like her old self, 
and went home to enjoy a lazy afternoon with her feet up and the Sunday 
papers.
	Nancy, Raye's older sister by some ten years, phoned that evening, and, 
after they had exchanged news of a general nature, lowered her voice 
conspiratorially as she said, "Has Raye talked to you about this Jadeite 
Sinclair she's been seeing?"
	"A bit," Serena answered cautiously. Nancy was a dear, but the 
difference in age meant she often behaved more like a mother than anything 
else with the two younger girls. Even her own growing family of two sons and 
two daughters didn't stop her taking an avid maternal interest in their lives. 
"Why?"
	"Well, he's gorgeous, absolutely gorgeous--not so much in looks, or 
anything, but as a person--you know? And he adores Raye, dotes on her. It 
would be perfect if she felt the same way about him, don't you think?" Nancy 
asked probingly, knowing that Raye had probably told Serena far more about 
that side of things than her own sister.
	Raye had already confided that she thought Jadeite Sinclair might be 
more than just a friend, but that she was taking it very slowly after the 
devastation with Chad, which Serena could understand. But she wasn't going to 
tell Nancy that.
	"Anyway, after all that's happened with that horrible Chad creep, Raye 
deserves someone who will love her and take care of her," Nancy stated 
positively, when Serena wasn't forthcoming. "I'd love to meet that swine 
brother-in-law of his too. The air would turn blue, I can tell you."
	"I doubt it," Serena responded drily. Nancy was just about the most 
strait-laced thirty-two-year-old she had ever come across. But she couldn't 
stop the sharp stab of guilt that Nancy's innocent words had produced, and 
long after the phone call had ended she sat in silent contemplation, becoming 
more and more horrified that she had been on the point, the night before, of 
making love with the man who had caused such unhappiness to her beloved 
cousin.
	But she hadn't, not really, she argued with herself. They had exchanged 
a few kisses, that was all. Admittedly passionate kisses--oh, so wonderfully 
passionate--but just kisses. And in this day and age that was nothing, 
absolutely nothing. There was no reason at all for her to feel guilty. But 
Nancy's declaration continued to burn in her brain, each word a little arrow 
with tips soak in the poison of self-reproach and shame.
	By the time she fell into bed at just after nine, exhausted by the lack 
of sleep the night before, Serena had promised herself fervently that she 
would never see Darien Chiba again.
	Not that he would suggest meeting her after the fiasco of the previous 
night, she told herself miserably. But just in case he did, she wouldn't.
	And the funny little feeling the decision gave her, and the vague 
depression her pledge induced, only confirmed she was right in the long run. 
He was the enemy and he was dangerous, and his power and authority was 
insidious. She had been lucky to get out when she did and have time to reflect 
and get herself together. It had nearly been too late.
 
Decision made, Serena slept like a log, but when she awoke she knew her 
dreams--or certainly the last one, remnants of which had stayed with her long 
after her eyes were open--had been of a nature to make her blush, and that the 
main figure in the erotic fantasies had been tall and dark, with icy blue eyes 
and a cruel ruthless mouth.
	She was desperately glad it was a working day, and threw herself into 
the usual Monday morning mayhem with a single mindedness which brought over 
approval from Rita and Andrew.
	Melvin was still full of gloom and doom at his girlfriend's exit from 
his life. He was tall, handsome and popular, and it was the first time in his 
twenty-two years that a female had finished with him; usually the boot was on 
the other foot. By lunchtime Serena couldn't stand his mournful face a moment 
longer, and suggested they share a pub lunch together somewhere so that he 
could talk it through with an impartial third party. He agreed with alacrity, 
and so it was that the two of them left the office together, Melvin taking her 
arm as they steeped into the street outside the building, and making her laugh 
as he called a cheeky farewell to Rita and Andrew.
	"Serena?"
	The deep, husky voice caused her to freeze before she turned slowly, 
Melvin's arm still in her and the smile dying from her face. It wasn't the 
Mercedes today, she noted numbly. Darien was sitting at the wheel of a 
beautiful red Ferrari, which was parked with magnificent unconcern for yellow 
lines a few feet away, and his face was imperturbable as he leant out of the 
open window.
	"Hello, Darien." Amazingly her voice was cool and contained, betraying 
none of the sick agitation that had gripped her nerves at the sight of his 
cold handsome face.
	"I'd like a word," he said expressionlessly, for all the world as though 
she was alone.
	The arrogance was colossal, and caught Serena on the raw, causing her 
head to lift and her eyes to shoot sparks as she said, "I can spare a moment 
or two. Or perhaps you would like to call me when I'm back in the office after 
two? I will have your file handy then."
	"Damn the file." It had been a low growl, and then he seemed to catch 
himself, the intimidating mask sliding into place and his control back as he 
said smoothly, "I'd like a word now, if you don't mind. And in private," he 
added silkily, without acknowledging the other man by so much as the flicker 
of an eyelash.
	"Unfortunately that's not possible." She would rather walk on coals of 
fire than give in to such pretentious lordliness, Serena thought furiously. 
Who did he think he was? "I'm just on my way to lunch, with a friend." She had 
left the barest pause before the last three words but it was enough to tighten 
the ruthless mouth into a straight line. "Like I said, I'll be back in the 
office at two."
	Serena was aware of Melvin shifting uncomfortably at the side of her. 
The last thing she wanted was for him to encourage her to go with Darien, 
which she sense he was about to do, and so after a sharp and very definite, 
"Goodbye for now," at the darkly angry occupant of the Ferrari, she turned 
quickly, almost lugging the unfortunate Melvin along the pavement.
	She half expected Darien to call after her, ordering her to stop, but he 
didn't, and when they had turned the corner she felt the air go out of her 
like a deflated balloon, and found she was leaning heavily on Melvin's arm.
	"What was that all about?" Melvin made no pretence of tact. "Are you 
seeing him or something?"
	"No, I'm not seeing the him, and there's no "something" either," Serena 
said forcefully. "He's one of those men who thinks he had only to speak and 
the world stops to listen, that's all. Well, he's in for a bit of shock where 
I'm concerned."
	Melvin opened his mouth to speak, glanced again at her blazing eyes and 
ferocious growl, and shut it again to keep quiet. His mother was a redhead and 
he knew when to keep quiet. Nevertheless, the little encounter ruined the 
lunchtime interlude even as it succeeded in taking Melvin's mind off his own 
troubles.
	Serena was on tenterhooks all afternoon, jumping visibly every time the 
telephone rang and tensing whenever the outer door opened. But he didn't ring 
and he didn't come to the office, and by six o'clock she had relaxed a little. 
Darien wasn't the type of man to continue to hit his head against a brick 
wall, she told herself reassuringly, and he must have hot the message by now. 
And with all the other fish making sure they swam in his particular sea, he 
would have no trouble in selecting a suitable female to stoke that jumbo-sized 
ego.
	She left the office at ten past six, noticing there was a slight chill 
in the air that spoke of autumn although the day had been another warm one, 
and was just pulling her jacket---which she had been carrying over one arm---
over her shoulders, when she became aware of the block of red on the perimeter 
of her vision. As though in answer to her glance, the Ferrari purred forward 
from its vantage point further down the street until it came to a halt just in 
front of her.
	"Hi." The window was down and Darien had on arm relaxed comfortably 
along its ledge as he spoke. He didn't smile.
	Serena didn't smile either as she nodded back at him, her eyes wary and 
her mouth straight.
	"I've come to give you a lift home," he drawled easily, "so hop in."
	"I'd rather not, thank you," she replied, without a change of 
expression.
	"Don't be difficult, Serena." It was said with a light evenness, but 
there was steel underneath. "Get in."
	She thought about defying him further, and then something about the set 
of his mouth, and a certain glint in the icy eyes, warned her to go carefully. 
"I don't want to argue with you---"
	"Good, get in," he interrupted frostily.
	"But there's really no point," she continued bravely. "We said all that 
could be said last night, and---"
	"Serena, we said nothing last night," he interrupted, for the second 
time in as many seconds, "and there's no way I am leaving things as they are 
now. You are obviously of the impression that I am a cross between Don Juan 
and Jack the Ripper, and for some reason I can't fathom that bothers me." The 
sarcasm was biting. "Now, as I see it, you have two straightforward choices. 
You either get in this car voluntarily and allow me to see you home, whereupon 
we can discuss your...fantasies and bring them into the clear light of reason, 
or I can make you get in---gag you, tie you up. Whatever it takes to make you 
listen to me."
	His voice had risen during the discourse, something which he apparently 
was aware of as in the next instant he took a long, hard breath, pulling the 
air deep into his lungs, before he flexed powerful shoulders and added, his 
voice quiet now, "The choice is yours."
	How had she got herself into this situation? Serena stared at the sleek, 
powerful car, and the equally sleek, powerful occupant, as her mind raced. She 
knew he was quite capable of carrying out his threat to manhandle her into the 
vehicle. Of course she could cause a scene, shout, scream, but that would 
merely be acutely embarrassing for both of them, and if some stalwart citizen 
decided to call the police...	She got in the car.
	"Why did you run from me like that last night?" It was soft and calm and 
not at all what she had expected.
	She had been staring straight ahead, her hands clenched into tight fists 
at her sides and her back rigid as Darien eased the Ferrari into the 
tumultuous evening traffic, but at the sound of his quiet, even voice she 
relaxed a little, allowing her body to fall back in the seat as she said, "I 
told you, I don't want to get involved with anyone," and glanced his way.
	"Does that anyone mean anyone, or just me?" he asked expressionlessly. 
"You seemed on pretty good terms with that guy at lunchtime."
	"I work with Melvin, that's all," she defended herself quickly, before 
she had time to consider her words, and then immediately regretted she hadn't 
been cute enough to let him think she was interested elsewhere.
	"I see."
	She had never traveled in a Ferrari before, and she couldn't really 
believe she was traveling in one now, especially with Darien Chiba. The car 
was everything it was purported to be, and a bit more besides, but it was more 
the dark, brooding presence of the driver that was turning her legs to jelly. 
His suit jacket was lying behind him and his dark ivory shirt was open at the 
collar. His shoulders were broad and muscled--he must work out, Serena thought 
dazedly as she forced her gaze ahead again--and the long, lean frame seemed 
too large for the confines of the car. It was a powerful body, a very 
masculine body, and no woman could fail to feel the restrained force latent in 
the magnetic male sovereignty.
	"Why don't you want to get involve with anyone, Serena?"
	She had been so concentrated on hiding what his nearness was doing to 
her shaky control that his soft voice made her start, and she moistened her 
lips, wiping her damps hands surreptitiously on the dark blue cotton of her 
skirt before she replied, "I… I just don't, that's all."
	"That's no answer." It was a command for more.
	"I want to concentrate on my career," she said shakily after a moment or 
two, "and travel, see places. I want to please myself."
	"You could do all that with the right man," he said evenly, "and you 
know it. What was his name, Serena? The man you loved and lost?"
	"I haven't loved and lost anyone."
	It was so unmistakably the truth that Darien couldn't fail to recognize 
it as such, and he felt the frustration which had been steadily growing over 
the last few weeks since he had met this woman gnaw at his vitals.
	"The man who hurt you, then?" he persisted softly, keeping his voice low 
and flat. "Because someone did, didn't they?"
	This was getting too close for comfort, and Serena knew a moment of 
sheer panic. "I don't have to want a man in my life, do I?" she snapped 
sharply. "Thousands of women manage perfectly well without one, believe it or 
not."
	That was it. Someone had hurt her. He was surprised at how much the 
thought bothered him. What had happened? Had it been mental or physical abuse, 
or--and here he found he was grinding his teeth--something of a sexual nature? 
Whatever, it had cut deep; that was for sure.
	"Perhaps." His voice was purposely sceptical.
	"You don't think a woman can exist happily without a man?" Serena asked 
tightly.
	"Oh, I think she can exist all right." Darien drawled slowly. "But 
happily…?"
	"That's the most blinkered, chauvinistic rubbish I've ever heard," 
Serena said heatedly. "I can't believe---" And then she caught the sight of 
his face as he turned briefly and grinned at her. "You're winding me up," she 
said weakly.
	"Me?" He shook his dark head slowly. "Now would I?"
	But it had defused what had been a painful moment for both of them, as 
Darien had meant it to.
	It didn't take the powerful car long to reach Serena's apartment, 
although with the evening traffic at its height she could have walked it in 
about the same time. Darien cut the engine and settled more comfortably in his 
seat as he turned to face her, and she began the little speech she had been 
rehearsing for the last few minutes.
	"I did enjoy the party on Saturday, Darien, and it was very kind of you 
to invite me," she said primly. "I just don't want to give you the wrong 
impressions, that's all." 
	"Forgetting the way you ran out on me like a frightened rabbit--" he 
noticed the way her mouth tightened at the analogy with secret amusement "--
and your less than receptive reaction to my telephone call, what impression 
did you think you were giving that necessitated such…extreme clarification?" 
he asked with lazy mockery. "I thought we were enjoying a relaxing evening 
among friends and getting to know each other--"
	"That's the thing," she interrupted quickly. "I don't want to get to 
know you--anyone--better."
	"You mean you don't want to have sex with me, Serena." It was a crude 
statement meant to shock, and it did, but Darien had just used his meager 
store of patience. "But there was no question of that on Saturday night. It's 
obvious you will find this hard to believe, but I like my relationships to 
built on friendship first and foremost."
	His relationships? How many did he have going? Serena asked herself 
weakly as she stared at him, her face burning.
	"I also like my women as eager as I am," he continued quietly, "with the 
choice, at all times, to say yay or nay. I have never forced a woman against 
her will, or even coerced one as far as I am aware, and I wouldn't start with 
you. There is much more to getting to know someone than the physical act of 
intercourse," he finished, his tone now expressing mild disappointment at her 
carnal mind.
	"I know that," she shot back quickly, stung at his insinuations that 
she'd only had one thing on her mind. "Of course I know that."
	"But you thought I didn't?" he interjected smoothly, the calmness of his 
voice at odds with the rapier-sharp glitter in his eyes.
	"No. Yes. Oh, for goodness' sake!" She glared at him angrily. How was it 
she had been made to feel like an immoral woman? She asked herself in 
amazement.
	"All I wanted to do on Saturday night was this." He dipped his head and 
took her mouth without waiting for an invitation, and this time the kiss was 
erotic and hard, his lips and tongue and gently savaging teeth creating an 
immediate whirlwind of sensation that had Serena fluid beneath his onslaught. 
The kiss was endless, and at sometime during it he moved her closer into him, 
leaning across her in the close confines of the car so that she was aware of 
every inch of his muscled frame, the rapid beat of his heart beneath the thin 
cloth of his shirt, the altogether male smell and feel of him.
	And this time it was Darien who pulled away, moving back fully into his 
seat with a soft, regretful sigh before he said, his voice unforgivably steady 
and unconcerned, "You see? Just a kiss, that's all."
	The second he moved away Serena knew she should have resisted being in 
his arms, said something, done something, but the truth of the matter was that 
it simply hadn't occurred to her. Her whole being had been taken up with the 
amazing sensations in her traitorous body, which was still trembling from the 
feel of his hands and mouth. Her stomach felt warm and heavy, her breasts 
throbbing, her legs weak. Her eyes open wider in alarm as the knowledge of 
just how she was feeling pressed the panic button. How could she want Darien 
Chiba to make love to her? How could she? Especially when it was patently 
obvious it didn't mean a thing to him.
	"Now look--"
	"I am looking," he said with lust appreciation. "And even when I'm not 
looking I'm imaging how you look, and how you would look if I really made love 
to you. You're there all the time--in my shower, in the car, in my bed, the 
office…" He paused, his eyes wicked as he said, "You're the first woman I've 
taken on my desk, Serena, I can promise you that."
	"Darien--"
	"At first I thought you were playing some sort of game," he continued, 
almost thoughtfully, "giving the wolf a taste, you know? But when you slammed 
the phone down on me it was genuine, wasn't it? And this lunchtime…I haven't 
had a woman treat me like that before."
	"No?" Self-preservation demanded sarcasm. "How amazing."
	"Isn't it?" he agreed mockingly.
	"How can you say all that, about your shower and…and everything--she had 
been about to say "and desk", but the image he had conjured up with his words 
was still so shockingly visible in her mind that she couldn't bring herself to 
name it "--and then say you want to get to know me slowly and not for just one 
thing?" she demanded hotly.
	I'm being truthful, that's all," he stated with suspect righteousness. 
"I do want to get to know you as a person, that's very important an any 
relationship, but I also want you physically--with a desire that is driving me 
mad. There, cards on the table." He smiled, with a boyish sweetness that swept 
away all the hard cynicism for a brief moment and made him look as he must 
have done at eighteen.
	It hit her hard, like a well-aimed punch in the solar plexus, and in the 
same instant she faced the fact that if things had been different--if there 
had been no Raye, no miscarriage, and for her personally no Allan Ginga--she 
would have taken the plunge and risked venturing into Darien Chiba's world. 
But things weren't different, and, Raye or no Raye, she didn't have the 
expertise, the knowledge, or the self-confidence and belief in herself to 
handle a man like him.
	He would chew her up and spit her out and then go on to the next woman 
with a warm farewell and a wish that they would still be friends. An 
impossible affair.
	"I'm sorry, Darien." She had been unaware of the intense scrutiny behind 
the steady blue eyes as he had watched her face whilst keeping perfectly 
still. "But I meant what I said."
	"So did I." But the smile had gone as he continued, "And I want you, 
Serena."
	He spoke as if the mere wanting made the outcome inevitable, and 
something he had said on his decision to purchase Greenacres--and which she 
now repeated in a slightly shaky voice--flashed into her mind. "And you have 
always prided yourself on being a man who knows what he wants when he sees it, 
and then acquires it?" she said, with a hostile lift of her chin.
	His eyes narrowed, his brow wrinkling for a brief moment before clearing 
as he nodded slowly. "I was referring to possessions rather than people when I 
said that," he qualified coolly, "but the cap fits and I'm happy to wear it."
	"Are you indeed?" She glared at him, her voice taut as she said, "Well, 
it might surprise you to know that I don't like being put in the same category 
as a new suit or pair of shoes, or even a house as magnificent as Greenacres. 
I'm a flesh and blood person, in case you hadn't noticed, and I think your 
philosophy on life and love stinks."
	"That's not very liberal of you."
	His voice was dry and mocking, but if she had been watching closely--
which she wasn't, her rage making her blind to everything but the force of her 
own feelings--she would have seen his face had straightened at her words, and 
a pulse beating in his throat that betrayed he was not as relaxed and 
imperturbable as he would have liked her to believe.
	"Like you, I'm being truthful, that all," she flashed back tightly, 
repeating his earlier words with disdainful contempt.
	"So much anger and hostility." Suddenly he was deadly serious, folding 
his arms across the muscled expanse of his chest as he surveyed her from 
piercing eyes. "Why?"
	"Just because I don't want to sleep with you does not make me angry or 
hostile," she returned sharply, and then, realizing she had to take control of 
both the situation and herself, she drew in a deep, shuddering breath and 
said, "Look, this is getting us nowhere. Thank you for the lift, but I don't 
think there is any point in us meeting again. Of course, if you need Furuhata 
and Furuhata in a professional capacity, please do not hesitate to phone--
	"Eight o'clock."
	"What?" He had cut her off in mid-flow, and now she stared at him as he 
eyed her impassively.
	"Eight o'clock. I've got two tickets for the theatre and I'll pick you 
up at eight. Okay?" he drawled lazily.
	"No, it is not okay." She really couldn't believe they were having this 
conversation after all that had gone before. The whole thing was becoming 
surreal. "I've told you--"
	"I'll pick you up, take you to the theatre and then straight home 
afterwards without so much as holding your hand. How about that? The beautiful 
eyes smiled at her and she wanted to melt.
	"Darien, I don't want to be difficult, but--"
	"Then don't be," he encouraged promptly.
	"And please don't keep interrupting me," she snapped, her irritation at 
his despotic attitude sweeping away the momentary weakness his smile had 
induced. "I really don't want to go out with you."
	"I know." There was an inflexion in his voice that caused her eyes to 
connect sharply with his, but she could read nothing in the bland, cool 
features and decided she must have imagined the throb of what she had thought 
was bitterness. "But you'll enjoy it when you do."
	She stared at him for a full minute, the sounds from the warm September 
night outside the car barely penetrating the luxurious interior, before she 
said at last, her voice flat, "You aren't going to take no for an answer, are 
you?"
	"The word doesn't feature in my vocabulary," he agreed softly.
	"And you meant what you said about it being platonic?" she pressed as 
she looked into the hard, handsome face.
	"If that's the way you want."
	"It is," she said quickly, nodding to emphasis the point.
	"So be it." He stretched, and a hundred warning bells began to ring as 
the long, lean frame touched every nerve in her body whilst remaining a good 
twelve inches away. "But I'm great believer in a lady being able to change her 
mind," he said silkily.
	"This want won't." She eyed him militantly.
	"I wouldn't be on that, Serena." He ignored her scornful "huh" as he 
continued, "Perhaps not tonight, perhaps not even the next time I take you 
out, but soon, very soon, you'll want me as much as I want you…"