Title: Planning a Revenge Chapter 6
Author: Ashley
E-mail: Nuriko56@hotmail.com
Standard Disclaimer Apply


If Serena had had to say the next morning, hand on heart, whether she had
enjoyed the evening at the theatre, the answer would have been a reluctant
yes, and following that date there was three more.
	The first was Sunday lunch, followed by an afternoon drive, and then a
quiet, cozy evening in a wonderfully old-fashioned pub Darien knew, with 
horse
brasses on the walls and low, exposed beams which caused every male over six
foot to duck his head.
	The second, a music festival on the outskirts of London, had some of the
most famous names in entertainment world present, and left Serena in no 
doubt
that Darien knew everyone and anyone.
But it was the third, a quiet romantic dinner for two at Greenacres, when 
they
were waited on by Darien's newly acquired housekeeper and then left strictly
alone, which convinced Serena her exit from Darien Chiba's life had to be 
like
the surgeon's knife--swift and unflinching with the emphasis on swift.
	Not that he hadn't behave like the perfect gentleman, she reminded
herself unhappily, the following morning after the dinner. He had---on all
three dates. Not a word, not a gesture out of place, and definitely no body
contact or anything that could be faintly misconstrued. Perversely it had
irritated her far more then she could have expressed. She wanted…Oh, she
didn't know what she wanted, she admitted miserably, only what she had to 
do.
And that was to make sure this brief interlude ended once and for all.
	She wrote the letter before she had time to hesitate--a strong no-
nonsense letter which would toll the death knell on any relationship and
penetrate even Darien Chiba's special brand of arrogance---and posted it on
her way to work.
	"Nice time yesterday evening?" Rita and Andrew had been watching events
with avid curiosity and not a little amazement, their all too obvious
puzzlement at Serena's refusal to get excited at Darien's interest forcing 
her
to tell them the whole story after the second date. Rita had made no bones
about the fact that she thought Serena ought to let bygones be bygones, her
magnanimity prompted less by Darien's extenuating circumstances and more by
the size of his bank balance, Serena suspected.
	This morning Rita had pulled her into the little kitchen at the back of
the building as soon as Serena had stepped through the door, and now her
friend's eyes were bright with interest as she added, "Was his sister 
there?"
	"No one was there, except the housekeeper," Serena said flatly.
	"I thought so." Rita nodded wisely, pursing her lips and narrowly her
eyes. He means business, Serena. I really think you've hooked him."
	"I don't want him," Serena insisted forcefully.
	"You do, you just don't know it yet." Rita smiled, with such patronising
condescension that Serena could have hit her--friend or no friend. "It 
needed
someone like Darien Chiba to bring you out of that glass tower you've
inhabited for the last few years."
	"I haven't!" Serena was stung into raising her voice. "How can you say
that, Rita?"
	"Because it's true," Rita said quietly, her eyes compassionate as she
looked at the beautiful angry face in front of her. She couldn't remember 
the
number of times she had wished Allan Ginga to a place where it was very hot
and very final. When he had ripped his way onto Serena's body he had taken
more than just her virginity, and she and Andrew had been full of admiration
for the way the slender, gentle girl in front of her had fought back from 
such
crippling experience. But she still wasn't over it yet, Rita thought
perceptively, although Serena would refute that.
	"Well, whatever you say, I've finished this morning." Serena stared at
her for one moment more, before turning away with a shrug of her shoulders.
"Rightly or wrongly, I've written him a letter which he'll receive tomorrow
morning, so that's that."
	"He won't accept it," Rita stated positively.
	"He'll have to."

The first bouquet arrived at the office on Tuesday lunch-time---the morning
Darien would have received the letter. The twenty-four red roses were just
beginning to open their crimson petals, and reduced the worldly-wise Rita to 
a
gushy mess as she eyed Serena holding the flowers. The card read simply, 
"That
word still isn't in my vocabulary."
	"Oh, this is so romantic." Rita was captivated. "Andrew never did
anything like that for me."
	"I never had to," Andrew said stolidly. "I couldn't get you out of my
life or my bed from the fist week we met."
	The next morning brought a huge posy fragrant freesias edged with baby's
breath, which perfumed the office all day, and the message, "Thinking of 
you."
	Thursday it was three dozen stems of Regal lilies, the gently scented,
white funnel-shaped flowers with their brilliant yellow centres taking up 
all
one corner of the office and staring accusingly at Serena all day as she 
tried
to work. The card read, "Royal flowers for a princess," and had Rita sighing
blissfully into her coffee.
	Serena hardly dared to turn up for work on Friday. Her flat resembled a
flower shop, and the smell was overpowering, but it was the way Darien's
persistence was affecting her that really troubled her. She wanted to feel
annoyed or irritated, certainly exasperated at his tenacious pursuit, but
instead there was a bubble of something deep inside that caused the sky to
look bluer and the air to smell fresher, even as she acknowledged an
underlying thread of unease. Because all this could only have one 
conclusion.
And it wasn't just the fact she would never be able to look Raye in the eye
again if she allowed Darien Chiba to invaded her life.
	It was him. Serena stopped abruptly on the pavement just outside the
office, ignoring the October drizzle as she examined her thoughts. He made 
it
crystal-clear how he viewed any association with her, and love and 
commitment
would never enter into any of it. Oh, she didn't doubt that he would remain
faithful as long as the affair continued, but one day it would end. He had
already said so. Ninety-nine women out of a hundred might be able to cope 
with
such cold-blooded honesty, but she wasn't one of them.
	Her shoulders slumped and her head bowed, and then she caught sight of
her reflection in the window and straightened immediately, a thread of angry
self-disgust blowing away the momentary weakness. She had never cried for 
the
moon in the past, or worn her heart on her sleeve, and she didn't intent to
start now. She forced a smile to her face and refused to let her thoughts go
any further, opening the door with a cheerful, "Good morning, everyone."
	It was a deep red carnations later that morning, just before the coffee
break, and the rich blooms were snuggled in a cloud of forget-me nots. "I 
have
it on good authority that in the language of the flowers red carnations 
stand
'alas for my poor heart'," Darien had written, "and the forget-me-nots was
self-explanatory."
	Alas for my poor heart? Serena stared at the card as a flood of anger
rose, sweeping away the unease in a fiery river. This was all a game to him,
an interesting and diverting game, but a game nevertheless. Forget the
flowers, the cards, the sweet talk--he wanted to bed her and that was his 
only
intent. She said as much to Rita, who was oohing and ahhing as normal.
	"But of course, darling, men are all the same," Rita agreed brightly.
"You really couldn't expect anything else. The trick is keeping him 
interested
afterwards, and you are bright enough, and beautiful enough, to do that."
	"He doesn't want a permanent relationship," Serena insisted firmly.
"He's already said as much."
	"Well, you might not after a time," Rita said reasonably. "Can't you
just enjoy yourself for a change, and hang the future?"
	No, she couldn't do that. Serena stared at the other woman, her eyes
wide with horror of such self-awareness. Because she loved him. Sometime 
over
the last two months she had fallen in love with Darien Chiba.
	"What's the matter?" Rita took a step towards her, her voice urgent as
she looked into Serena stricken eyes. "Do you feel ill? Serena, what is it?"
	On the perimeter of her consciousness Serena was aware of the outer door
opening and closing, and of a shadowy figure entering the office, but it
wasn't until Andrew's voice said, "Mr. Chiba, this is a pleasant surprise,"
that her startled gaze swung from Rita's face to that of the tall dark man,
who was watching her so intently.
	"Hello, Serena." He spoke softly, and the deep, husky voice tricked over
her skin as though he was already touching her.
	Serena was powerless to make any reply, the shock of her discovery and
the physical presence of the figure who had occupied most of her waking
moments and all of her dreams for the last few weeks rendering her 
speechless,
and it was Rita who moved forward, a hundred-watt smile on her face as she
said, "Mr. Chiba? How do you do? I don't think we've been formally 
introduced.
I'm Rita Furuhata, and this is my husband, Andrew."
	"Serena's friends, yes. She has often spoke of you."
	He was smiling down at Rita, all charm and white teeth, but Serena still
couldn't move or take her eyes off his face. The black straight brow, the
riveting eyes, the all-encompassing magnetic power that radiated around him
like a dark aura. Why was he here? Right now? Had he somehow sensed what she
was feeling? Known she was at her weakest and moved in for the kill?
	The ridiculousness of the thought provided the dose of adrenaline she
needed to pull herself together. He was egotistical enough as it was; he 
would
just love it if he sensed she was bestowing super-human qualities to him.
	"Hello, Darien." She managed a somewhat shaky smile, but was pleased at
the coolness of her voice. "No problem with Greenacres, I hope?"
	"None that I'm aware of," he said smoothly. "I've called in about my
apartment, actually. I'd like the Furuhata and Furuhata to put it on the
market for me."
	"Oh, yes?" Serena had seen the glance that had flashed between Rita and
Andrew, and she knew exactly what they were thinking, especially as Rita
compounded the gesture by peering covetously out of the window at the 
majestic
Mercedes parked regally outside, the chauffeur sitting impassively behind 
the
wheel. Multimillionaires didn't condescend to visit like this. The most they
could have hoped for was an imperial summons, followed by five minutes of 
his
time. He had come to see Serena. They all knew it.
	Darien nodded, the silver blue eyes fastening on Serena's flushed face.
"I don't really need two properties so close together, and Greenacres is
becoming more like home everyday. So… I've a spare hour or so this morning 
if
you're available?"
	He had phrased at a question, but they both knew it was more in the
nature of a command, and it was clear Rita knew which side of the fir's 
bread
was buttered as she quickly offered, "That's fine, absolutely fine. I can 
take
your appointment with Mrs. Carstairs, Serena."
	Fait accompli. As Darien had meant it to be--as he had known it would
be. Money talked, and nowhere so distinctly as in this man's orbit, but if 
he
thought he could buy her he was mistaken. She would go with him and value 
his
darn flat, but that was all she would do.
	"Fine." Serena echoed Rita's words with a brittle smile. "I'll drop
everything and come with you right now, shall I?"
	"If you don't mid," he said evenly, but Serena had seen her veiled
sarcasm register in the piercing eyes and knew he hadn't liked it.
	Melvin had kept quiet all through the little exchange, but now he
surprised everyone--including himself, if the faintly desperate look in his
brown eyes was anything to go by--when he said, looking straight at Serena,
"I'm free this morning. Would you like me to come with you and take down the
particulars?"
	"I don't think one apartment necessitates taking up the valuable time of
two of your employees?" Darien interposed swiftly as he turned to glance at
Rita and Andrew.
	"No, of course not," Rita agreed quickly, casting a warning glance from
under her eyelashes at Melvin, who was clearly in white knight mode.
	Whether he didn't see Rita or chose to ignore her was uncertain, but
Melvin again looked straight at Serena as he said, "Serena? I can catch up 
on
any work tonight if you'd like me to come with you."
	"No, it's all right, Melvin. But thank you," Serena said softly, touched
by the young man's genuine concern for her but wanting an end to what had
become an acutely embarrassing moment. She could see Darien's face was as
black as thunder, and so could Rita and Andrew, and she knew Melvin was 
going
to be in hot water once she'd left. "I appreciate the offer, " she added
quietly, her eyes warm as she smiled at him before turning and reaching for
her jacket and handbag.
	Once they were seated in the back of the Mercedes she willed the hot
colour in her cheeks to subside and sat quietly, saying nothing. The silence
went on and on, stretching and lengthening until the air was crackling with
electricity, but Serena was determined she wasn't going to speak first.
	It was a good five minutes before Darien said, his voice taut, " I
thought there was nothing between you and the boy back there?"
	He made it sound as though Melvin was still in short pants, and Serena
warned herself not to bite back, speaking coolly and evenly as she answered
briefly, "There isn't."
	"You could have fooled me."
	"Really? She said tartly. "That must be a first."
	"Serena."
	"And stop trying to bully me," she snapped hotly, the resolve of a few
seconds before burnt up in the tumult of emotion that was turning her inside
out. Until he had walked into the office she hadn't realised how much she 
had
ached to see him, but now he was here, in the flesh, and she was finding it
physically painful, the pressure in her heart unbearable.
	"Bully you?" he echoed tightly.
	"Yes, bully me." She made the mistake of turning to glare at him, and
then wished she hadn't. In the close confines of the car he looked good 
enough
to eat, his big black overcoat and wind-ruffled hair emphasising the dark
sexiness which lay at the root of his attractiveness. "Barging in there like
that and ordering me to come with you, and the flowers all week and
everything."
	"You see the flowers as a way of my bullying you?" he snarled
incredulously.
	"Intimidating me, then," she qualified tautly.
	"I don't believe this." He had been sitting forward in the seat but now
he lay back, taking a long, deep, hard breath before he said slowly, 
"Serena,
the flowers weren't meant to bully you or intimidate you or anything else of
that nature. I just don't understand…" He paused, raking his hair back from
his brow before he continue in a low growl, "I don't understand how to reach
you, that's all."
	Oh, no, don't do this. Don't do lost and uncertain on me, she prayed
silently, the twist her heart had given at his admission stopping her 
breath.
	"And coming here today like this…" He paused again, and then turned back
to look at her, his voice full of self-derision as he continued, "I was
sitting in my office and I couldn't let another hour go by without seeing 
your
face. Big joke, heh? You can go back there and give them all a good laugh 
now,
can't you?"
	"I wouldn't do that," she said numbly.
	"No, I know you wouldn't," he agreed softly. "Because you aren't like
that, are you? I mean you really aren't like that. There are any number of
women I know who would be milking this for all it's worth, getting the most
out of me they could, but you haven't asked me for a damn thing."
	"Of course I haven't." She was shock to the core of it showed.
	He leant forward abruptly, pulling down the blind over the glass which
separated them from his driver and then turning back to her, his eyes softer
than she had ever imagined they could be as he said, "How have you reached 
the
age of twenty-two in this big, bad world and stayed like you are?"
	It was a stupid question--and she knew she shouldn't ask it--but she
found herself saying, her voice weak and trembling, "How am I?"
	"Perfect," he said huskily. "Absolutely perfect."
	He pulled her into his arms in one swift movement crushing her against
him as he groaned her name against her lips which opened obediently beneath
his searching mouth. His tongue was erotic in the warm, secret places of her
mouth, and she could feel the thrusting arousal of his body against her
softness as he moulded her even closer, his fingers tangling in her hair, 
the
silky blond curls tumbling about her shoulders as they escaped their combs.
	This was the middle of a Friday morning in busy London traffic.
	The same thought must have occurred to Darien, because in the next
instant he had reluctantly drawn back, his breathing heavy and laboured as 
he
looked down into her flushed face. "See? See what little control I have 
where
you are concerned," he said softly. "You are like a drug. I can't get enough
of you."
	"Darien--"
	"And all this 'don't touch, hands off' is driving me crazy. I want you,
Serena. I can't believe how much I want you. And you want me. You might not
like it, but you want me. Is this the end of the hide and seek? Are you 
ready
to admit that there's a fire that burns between us every time I touch you?"
	she didn't try to answer him, persuading the wild disarray of her hair
back into the small tortoiseshell combs Darien's fingers had dislodged, her
hands trembling.
	"Come and stay the weekend at Greenacres," he said huskily.
	"What?" Luckily the last comb was firmly in place as her head swung
sharply to face him.
	"Amy wants to see you again." And then, as she slanted her eyes in
disbelief, he raised a sardonic black eyebrow. "You don't believe me?" he
asked amusedly.
	"No, I don't," she admitted drily, willing the pounding of her heart to
slow down and hopping he couldn't see the turmoil she was still in. how 
could
he make her feel like that with just a kiss? He'd talked about a fire 
burning
between them, and the wild, hot pain surging through her body felt akin to
being burnt.
	"Don't beat about the bush, Serena, feel free to be honest," he said
sarcastically. And then, when she continued to eye him without speaking, "It
is the truth, as it happens. She really liked you, you know, and she's asked
about you more than once. The next few weeks are going to be difficult ones
for her as we get nearer to knowing whether the treatment had been 
successful
or not, and it would be good for her to have another woman to share some of
her fears with. Chad cut her off from most of her friend during the course 
of
their marriage, and she hadn't got anyone she can really talk to."
	"She'd got you," Serena said carefully, "and Greg Harding."
	"But that's not like another female, is it? Darien argued softly. "She
could probably say things to you she wouldn't dream of telling me."
	"Don't do this, Darien." She stared at him, her eyes pleading with him.
"Don't try and make me feel guilty. We both know why you want me to stay the
weekend."
	"Shame on you, child." He grinned at her, bending swiftly to kiss the
tip of her nose. "Carnal thoughts again? But the blue eyes were still hot 
with
desire, and his body was betraying the passion that had him in its grip.
"Look, Serena, you'll have your own room, with a lock and key if you like, 
how
about that? Just one weekend---surely that's not too much to sacrifice for
someone who needs you desperately, is it?"
	She wasn't sure if her was referring to Amy or himself, and she shook
her head slowly as she said, "I would have thought blackmail was beneath 
you."
	"Me?" The grin deepened. "Oh, no, not where you are concerned. Anything
it takes, Serena, anything it takes."
	They said nothing more until the Mercedes pulled up outside the
beautiful old building in Kensington where Darien's apartment was situated,
the regal and somewhat imperious frontage disguishing--at first glance--how
huge the structure was. A minor concession to the twentieth century had been
made in the lobby, with the installation of lifts to the eight apartments 
the
building housed, but as the doorman escorted them to the lift, making small
talk with Darien, Serena gained an overall impression of tasteful elegance 
and
peace and quiet more reminiscent of a bygone age.
	Darien's apartment was the penthouse, and huge. As soon as Serena walked
into the Gothic-style hallway, with its stone fireplace, she knew this was 
not
going to be the flamboyant bachelor pad she had prepared herself for but a
real home, and that another preconceived idea about the man beside her was
going to be blown away.
	She was right. From the old Victorian mirror above the Haddonstone
fireplace in the magnificent blue and gold drawing room, to the nineteenth-
century dining chairs covered in Honan silk in the cream and claret dining
room, the apartment breathed beauty and warmth.
	Besides the drawing room and dining room, there was another reception
room, a large book-lined study, and a massive combined breakfast room and
beautifully fitted kitchen, along with four double bedrooms and two 
bathrooms.
	"It's gorgeous." They were standing in what was obviously the master
bedroom--a very male room I grey and green, with the most enormous 
four-poster
bed covered in antique French raw-linen bed sheets, complete with personal
monograms, and a polished wood floor--and now, more to take her mind off the
bed than anything else, Serena said, "You haven't used any of this furniture
for Greenacres. Are you intending to sell it?" in a small, slightly awed
voice.
	"No." He was leaning against the far wall, his hands thrust into his
pockets of his trousers and his narrowed eyes tight on her face. "I'm toying
with the idea of looking for a county retreat, or even a place down in
Cornwall, close to sea, so until I make up my mind one way or the other this
lot will go into storage."
	"Right." She nodded carefully, still pretending to look at the pictures
on the walls, the furniture, anything but the dark, brooding figures across
the room.
	"I have a place in Malaga I can escape to now and again," he continued
quietly, his husky voice making her nerve-endings jump, "but a sanctuary in
England would be nice too."
	"You feel you need a sanctuary?" she asked in surprise, glancing his
way.
	"Doesn't everyone?" he returned softly.
	"Yes, but you seem…Well, you're not…" Her voice trailed away as the icy-
blue eyes held hers.
	"Yes?" he probed intently. "How do I seem, Serena? How do you see me? As
a robot, perhaps? Some sort of super-human machine that doesn't need the
normal things other men need?"
	"I didn't say that," she defended quickly.
	"You don't have to." He levered himself off the wall, walking over to
her with an easy animal grace that was very masculine and very threatening. 
"I
know enough about you to appreciate there is a very soft heart beating under
that amazingly beautiful exterior," he said, with a soft grimness that had 
her
eyes transfixed on his face. "But where I am concerned you are on the
defensive one hundred per cent of the time, and have been from the first
moment we met. You don't like me, Serena. Why?"
	"I've never said that---"
	"Oh, you're attracted to me…physically," he continued darkly, "but
that's all."
	If he did but know. If he did but know. Serena stared at him, her mouth
dry, but he mustn't guess---not ever--the way she felt about him.
	"Why haven't you ever given me the chance, Serena?" he asked quietly.
"What have you heard about me that has filled you with such suspicion?"
	Now was the moment to tell him the truth, to explain about Raye and Chad
and how she felt, Serena told herself wretchedly. She could tell him 
quietly,
rationally, explain her feelings then, and how, after meeting Amy and
understanding his motives, she felt now. But she couldn't. She just 
couldn't.
	She continued to stared at him, her mind racing. As things were now, he
thought she didn't like him, and that gave her some sort of protection. If 
she
told him the truth that shield would be gone, and even if he didn't guess 
her
true feelings for him he would know she had mellowed. And that would be 
fine,
just fine, if there was the slightest hope he could ever want her for more
than just a passing bed partner. But he wouldn't. he had nailed his colors 
to
the mast within days of them meeting, and if she allowed herself to get
involved with him she would have no one to blame but herself when he left. 
And
he would leave. How could she, Serena Tsukino, ever hope to keep a man like
Darien Chiba interested?
	"I don't know. You…you've got something of a reputation I suppose," she
managed at last her voice shaking.
	"I can buy that." He nodded soberly, moving closer and staring down at
her musingly, his face veiled now and strangely expressionless. "But you
aren't prepared to look beyond the reputation, to give me a chance?"
	"It…it wouldn't work. You must know that," she prevaricated weakly.
"We're so different---our outlook on life and everything."
	"I don't agree." And then he shocked a startled gasp out of her when he
said coolly and with no emotion, "Are you a virgin, Serena? Is that why 
you're
so frightened of this passion between us?"
	"I…How can you…?"
	"Are you?" he persisted softly, quite unmoved by her red face and
helpless splutterings."
	She took a deep breath, the pain biting deep as she said, "No, I'm not a
virgin, Darien." And somehow, in spite of all the years in between and how 
far
she thought she had come, the stark anguish and despair and humiliation
overwhelmed her for a brief moment.
	"What is it?" He had seen the look on her face and it has appalled him,
but when she didn't speak the seething cauldron of baffled frustration and
bitterness boiled over, and he pulled her to him abruptly her head snapped
back on her shoulders. "For crying out loud, talk to me," he snarled
furiously. "Say something---anything. Lie if you want to, but give me a 
reason
for how you are."
	"Let go of me!" Suddenly it was Allan Ginga in front of her, and she
began to fight and kick in all the way she had all those years ago. But this
time there was no hard blow across her face to stun her for precious lost
moments, or brutal hands tearing the clothes off her back.
	Instead he simply held her to him, taking the battering of her hands and
feet without moving, his body still, with a whipcord hardness which spoke of
restrained power and strength.
	How long she continued to twist and struggle she didn't know, but when
eventually she became quiet she would have fallen at his feet but for his
hands holding her up. And now it was long minutes later, when the shuddering
sobs racking her body had died away to hiccuping gasps, that he said, his
voice thick and husky, "How long have you been holding on to all that?"
	What had she done? Her eyes were shut tightly, her face burning. How
could she have behaved like that? Never, even in the worst moments of
desperation and misery following the attack, had she lost control. She 
hadn't
dare to. To be in control--of herself and every situation about her--had
become of prime importance in a world that had been turned upside down. And
now she hadn't only lost control but had physically attacked him…"I'm 
sorry,"
she whispered dully.
	"Forget it." He was still holding her, his hands moving slowly up and
down her arms in an attempt to comfort.
	"No, I mean it. I…I never behave like that," she murmured helplessly.
"It…it wasn't you. You know that, don't you?"
	"It felt like me." It was rueful but not unkind. In fact his voice had a
tender note that made her want to cry again. "Do you want to talk about it?"
he asked softly, as her lower lip trembled.
	"No." Yes, yes, I want to talk about it, to make some sense of the
feelings that still rip me apart if I let myself remember, but I can't. "I'm
all right now." She raised her head as she spoke and then stilled at the 
look
in his eyes, time standing still as they gazed at each other in the quiet,
sun-dappled room, the weak October sun outside the window casting golden
sunbeams across the mellow wood floor.
	Serena's mouth was dry, she was unable to utter a word, and when the
kiss came it was delicate, sensuous, stroking a response that came shivering
up from the depths of her and was impossible to deny. The warm moistness of
his tongue began to trace the outline of her oft, full lips in an evocative
caress that was more erotic than any blatant passion, probing gently until
they parted and allowed him entry to her mouth.
	And then she began to kiss him back. She couldn't help it, his gentle
sensuality igniting a reaction that was pure pleasure. He didn't hurry, in
spite of her reaction, taking his time as he slowly explored the warm 
cavities
of her mouth until she was trembling with desire, her hands unresisting
against the broad expanse of his chest and her head tilted back as she
whimpered softly against his lips.
	"So beautiful, so exquisite…" His voice was like raw silk on her
sensitized emotions, and she moaned her need of him, moving into the male
hardness of his muscled boy without being aware of what she was inciting.
	She wasn't conscious of Darien moving her to the bed--although he must
have done--but, caught up in the wonder of his skilful lovemaking and her 
own
uninhibited response, she wouldn't have been able to resist anyway.
	He removed her jacket and his own coat with a smooth adeptness that
should have set the alarm bells ringing, but Serena was in a different 
world--
a world of fierce, driving need and throbbing sensation that had nothing to 
do
with real life.
	His hands increased the heady, surging rhythm his mouth had begun, the
blood singing through her veins and a low sweet ache at the pit of her 
stomach
building moment by moment until she moaned helplessly. Darien's throaty
breathing was an aphrodisiac in itself, and on which excited her more than 
she
could have imagined, the need he was betraying--his flagrant 
desire--inflaming
her passion into a whirling kaleidoscope of colour behind her closed 
eyelids.
	Hid hands were knowing as they slid over her body, and thrilling capable
of firing all the right buttons, her breasts becoming heavy and swollen and
their hard pointed tips thrusting against the soft wool of her dress. She 
was
gasping his name in between the fire of their kisses, uttering surrendered 
to
his will, so when his touch became restraining rather than sensuous, and 
then
finally stopped, until he was just holding her against him, she opened 
drugged
eyes to stare at him bewilderedly.
	"What's the matter?" she whispered shakily as she stared into the darkly
brooding face above her, becoming aware in the same moment of what she had
allowed and how intimately close they still were, their bodies touching 
length
against length and every bone and muscle in that hard frame known to her.
	"Another minute and I wouldn't have been able to stop," he growled
huskily. "You understand me, Serena? And you're not ready or this yet, are
you? When I have you it will be because you want me, Darien Chiba, and not
just because of how I can make you feel in bed either. And afterward there
will be no doubt that you knew exactly what you were doing."
	Serena stared at him, unable to believe what she was hearing, her eyes
blank. What had this been? She asked herself in horror. An exercise to prove
who was in control here? A way of showing her that he could take her or 
leave
her, as he chose? And she had played right into his experienced hands. All 
her
fine words, all her righteous protestations of moralistic restraint, and she
had ended up practically begging him to make love to her. She was a fool. 
Oh,
she was such a weak, stupid fool.
	"Don't look at me like that." Suddenly he was angry, furiously angry,
pulling her into a sitting position on the bed as he swore under his breath.
"You think it was easy for me to stop, is that it?" he snarled softly. 
"Here--
" He took her hand, holding it against his body for a shocking moment. "Does
that feel as though it was easy?"
	"Don't!" She snatched her hand away, her cheeks blazing.
	"You think I'm so sort of a monster--that is the truth, is it not?" he
grated bitterly. "And then you wonder why I do not want another crime laid 
at
my feet! You don't trust me--hell, you don't even like me. You would have
preferred me to take you like this, with things so bad between us?"
	"I didn't want you to take me." It was a lie, and not even a very
convincing one, adding tenfold to her humiliation.
	"Sure." His tone was scathing, pressing home her deceit.
	"I hate you."
	"Do you know, I think I would prefer that to this cool disdain of the
last few weeks," he bit savagely. "At least hate is a real emotion, one I 
can
understand."
	There was something in his voice, a strange inflexion that brought her
head--which had been hanging down--sharply upwards to look into his face, 
and
for a second, before the cynical mask had slid into it place, she saw a dark
pain that matched her own.
	"Darien?" Her voice was shaking as she spoke his name.
	But he was already on his feet, the metamorphosis continuing as he bent
down and picked up his coat and her jacket, turning to face her with a cold,
tight smile as he said, "Shall we?" This was the Darien Chiba the world 
knew--
ruthless, cool, inexorable--the brief glimpse of the man behind the mask a
distant memory.
	It helped Serena slid off the bed slowly as she gathered the tatters of
her torn dignity about her, although the effect was spoilt slightly when she
had to crawl half under the bed for one shoe. She was painfully aware her 
hair
must resemble a haystack, and that her face was almost totally devoid of its
morning make-up, and this was confirmed when Darien said, his voice flat 
now,
"Would you like to use the bathroom before we leave?"
	"Thank you." Oh, they were being polite, she thought with black humour
as she walked into the magnificent en suite bathroom, locking the door 
behind
her. She sat down with a little plop on the huge cane basket chair and shut
her eyes for a full minute, before gathering herself together and walking 
over
to one of the twin basins, peering at her reflection despairingly. Oh, she
looked a sight. If this didn't put him off her, nothing would. She bit her
lower lip hard, willing back the tears that were threatening to fall again 
by
sheer determination, before reaching for her cosmetics bag and setting to.
	By the time she emerged ten minutes later, her hair neat and tidy in its
clips and her discreet make-up covering all trace of the tear-blotches and 
the
bright red nose that had faced a few minutes before, Serena was in control
again.
	Darien was sitting waiting for her in the beautiful hallway, and rose
immediately she came into view, his dark face cool and reserved as he smiled 
a
smile that didn't reach the metallic blue eyes. "All ready?" She nodded
without returning the smile, and he took her arm, his touch cold and
impersonal.
	He kept their conversation to the minimum on the drive back to the
office, and when he did speak it was about the apartment and how he would 
like
it advertised, his voice tight and clipped as he listed its advantages. 
Serena
listened quietly, nodding her head in all the right places as she slowly 
bled
inside. This was awful, awful. How could she have been so …so insane? She
asked herself silently. Not content with attacking him, she had then further
convinced him of her instability by allowing--She closed her mind to what 
she
had allowed. And then she made it obvious she was piqued he hadn't followed
through.
	Her face began to burn again, flooding her pale cheeks with hot colour
and making it difficult to sit quietly without squirming in embarrassment. 
He
would think she needed certifying. Perhaps she did need certifying--
	"Do you agree, Serena?"
	"What?" She came out of the morass of self-recrimination to the
knowledge that Darien had been talking and she hadn't heard a word. "I'm
sorry, I didn't quite…?"
	He stared at her hard for a moment, and she expected one of the cutting
retorts he was so good at, but after a few seconds he shook his head slowly,
his voice expressionless as he said, "It doesn't matter. I'll ring you later
this afternoon and we'll discuss details then."
	"Right."
	Once the Mercedes drew up outside Furuhata and Furuhata, Serena was out
of the car like a shot, without waiting for Darien to walk round and open 
her
door, nodding at him quickly as he stood by the side of the vehicle but not
stopping as she said, "I'll talk to you later, then?" and walked across the
pavement.
	"Goodbye, Serena."
His voice was deep and rough, and the goodbye sounded terribly final, but 
she
nodded again, keeping her tone light as she said, "Goodbye, Darien," and
continued in to the building without turning around.