Title: Darien's Mistress Chapter 4 Author: Ashley E-mail: Nuriko56@hotmail.com Standard Disclaimer Apply Warning: This chapter contains some intense situations between Darien and Serena. It's NOT hentai, but intense!!! To be safe it's rated R, viewer's discretion is advised!!!! It didn't take long to reach the hotel where the ball was being held. There was a long line of cars waiting to park or drop their passengers, but Darien ducked round them into a reserved space. They walked together into the hotel and Darien put a hand under her elbow as they walked up the steps, but it was merely a politeness and he took his hand away immediately afterwards. There were still several guests making their way to the ballroom, most of whom knew Darien. He said hello to them and walked on but one couple, just as they neared the ballroom, stopped him to compliment him on the wonderful week festivities. Darien had to listen and thank them, and Serena moved on a few steps alone. She could see into the ballroom where Darien's grandfather stood to greet his guests. Beside him was his daughter, Mina's mother, and on her other side Andrew was shaking hands with the latest arrivals. Beyond them the guests mingled, the hubbub of their voices drowning the band that played softly in the background. No one was dancing yet; the guests were too busy greeting friends, being handed drinks, and finding their allotted tables. There was a little hiatus as the people Andrew had been talking to moved on, but the next couple had not yet reached him. He glanced toward them, then on to the door--- and saw Serena. For a moment he froze, then he strode forward and into the ante-room. Coming up to her, he took hold of Serena's arm and pulled her to the side of the room. "How dare you come here? Do you really think you can pull off another stunt like the last one?" he demanded, his voice low and furious. His grip tightening, he said, "I'm walking you out of here and I'm going to make darn sure you don't try to come back." He turned towards the entrance, but Darien had seen and came quickly over to them. "Let her go, Andrew." "What? Don't you know who---?" "Serena is with me," Darien said steadily. His cousin stared at him. "With you?" The emphasis on the word made it quite plain. "Yes." Andrew gave an involuntary gasp, then lowered his voice again to say forcefully, "Are you mad? You can't know what you're letting yourself in for. And you certainly can't bring her here!" "Well, I have brought her here---and what I do is my business, not yours---cousin. So take your damned hand off her." For a moment the two glared at each other, then Andrew straightened up and shrugged, "You'll regret this, Darien. She'll bring you nothing but trouble." "Some guests are waiting to shake you hand," Darien pointed out grimly. Andrew gave him a baffled look, but turned and went back into the ballroom. Serena slowly let out her breath and raised her eyes to look at Darien. There was a tight look to his features and the glance he gave her wasn't a pleasant one. "Is that what you wanted?" he asked curtly. "For us to quarrel over you?" "No." She shook her head, a rather sad look in her eyes. "Families are precious; I'd never want you to be at odds with anyone you cared for." Lifting her chin, she said, "Let's go in, shall we?" Darien gave her a puzzled look and shook is head, as if he didn't understand her. Not that Serena really understood herself, right now. They walked into the ballroom together and were received by Darien's grandfather, who greeted her with a warm smile and said it was nice to see her again. Mina's mother, too, was charming, but Andrew gave Serena a look of cold anger and didn't attempt to shake hands. Mina, standing near by, saw Serena and her eyes widened, first in amazement and then in abhorrence. Serena put her hand on Darien's arm and gave the other girl a dazzling smile as they walked past, but then a great surge of intense bitterness suddenly filled her, a feeling so overwhelming that she couldn't bear it and had to fight it down. It took so much effort that it left her feeling drained and empty. But into the emptiness crept hatred and a desire to hurt as she was being hurt, to humiliate as she had been humiliated. That was a much harder emotion to conquer, and Serena didn't entirely succeed, but she took the glass of champagne that Darien handed to her and thought grimly, To hell with them; to hell with everything! "What shall we drink to?" she asked, her eyes glittering with turbulent inner emotions. "Suppose you tell me," Darien answered, looking at her intently, a frown between his eyes. Lifting the delicate glass high, Serena tilted her head, watching the bubbles pop. "Let's drink to---drink," she said on a note of caprice. "To champagne that takes the pain away. To gin that makes your head spin. To whisky that makes you frisky." She laughed on an unsteady note. "And, most important, of course, to the port wine that had made your family rich." Clinking her glass against Darien's, she raised it to her lips and drained it. Then, impatiently, she took his glass from him and set both of them down on a convenient table. "Come on." She pulled him towards the dance floor. "I want to dance until my feet wear out." From that moment she was very vivacious, bright and sparkling, so that anyone looking at her would have thought her very happy, without a care in the world and having a wonderful time. She swept round the floor in Darien's arms, drank more champagne, talked animatedly and laughed a lot. Only when she came face to face with Seiya Gallagher did her brittle animation desert her. Serena happened to be alone for a moment, Darien having gone to the men's room, went Seiya went to walk past her, stopped and stared, then came over. "What are you doing here?" he demanded. "I could ask you the same thing," Serena countered. "I was sent an invitation. How about you? Somehow I don't see you getting an invite after what happened." Serena gave a small smile. "No, I didn't get an invitation. I--er-- bought my way in." "Bought?" His brows drew into a frown. "Figures it out," she said lightly. "I thought you'd had a row with Mina?" "I told her what I thought of her," he admitted. Lifting his head, he looked across the ballroom to where Mina was standing with the Count. "That girl needs straightening out." "By a man?" Serena said, following his gaze. "I hardly think Michel is the one to do it; Mina had him under her elegant thumb." "Maybe you're right at that." He looked thoughtful for a moment, but his eyes came back to her as the band started to play a new number as he said casually, "You care to dance?" Serena shrugged and said, just as casually, "OK." Darien's reaction if he found her with another man did not even cross her mind. It was a slow dance, and Serena rested her hand lightly on Seiya's shoulder. For a moment she dropped the animated act, let herself just flow, tried not to think of the future or past, not to think of anything. But Seiya's voice saying, "You didn't tell me how you come to be here, " intruded. He glanced down at her dress. "And looking like a million dollars, too." For a moment it occurred to Serena to tell him the whole sorry story, and to beg him to help her. He might. He might lend her enough money to get to England, enough to find herself somewhere to live and get a job and... But then Serena remembered that Darien had her passport. The sudden spurt of hope died even more quickly then it had come. And anyway, what right had she to ask Seiya to help her? None. All she had done was cause him embarrassment, first at the garden party and then at the palacio when Mina had denounced her. All things considered it was a marvel he was even speaking to her. So she merely gave a shrug and said, "Oh, I persuaded someone to bring me." Glancing across the room, she saw that Darien had come back and was looking round for her. Abandoning the Count, Mina hurried over to him and began to speak to him heatedly. It didn't take much to guest what she was saying, especially when she gestured towards where Serena and Seiya were dancing. Darien looked in their direction and his face hardened. Taking hold of Mina, he pulled her on the dance-floor and very deliberately moved in their direction. Seeing Mina immediately made Serena become very animated again, and she was laughing up at Seiya and he was smiling in amusement by the time Darien propelled Mina up to them. Reaching out, Darien put a hand on Seiya's arm. "Let's exchange partners, shall we?" Mina opened her mouth to protested, but found herself abandoned as Darien pulled Serena away. For a moment he didn't speak, but then looked down at her with cold anger in his eyes. "Trying to get a better offer?" he demanded sardonically. Serena's instinctive reaction was to pull away from him, but he had a firm grip on her hand and waist and immediately pulled her back. "You know something?" she said tightly. "You and Andrew are very much alike." "I gather that isn't a compliment." "You're right, it isn't." his jaw tightened for a moment, but then Darien said, "Yes, I suppose there are some ways in which we're alike. For instance, we both hold on to what is ours." "Meaning?" "Meaning that you and I made a bargain---and I'm going to make darn sure that you keep it." Pulling her hard against him so she could feel the powerfulness of his body, he put in hand on her neck, his thumb against her throat. "So don't get any ideas about ducking out. Wherever you ran to, I'd find you and bring you back, You're mind , Serena. And you're going to stay that way." He paused, and then added deliberately, "Until, as we agreed, I grow tired of you and let you go." She stared at him, overwhelmed by his sheer masculine strength, lost beneath his ruthless determination. For the first it really struck home that she had sold herself to this man and was at his mercy, just as surely as some slave in an ancient market-place. "You--you'd come after me?" she said on a low, unsteady note. "You can bet your life on it. Like Andrew, I make sure I keep my possessions." Serena had nothing to say to that. She turned her head away, looked blindly across the ballroom. I shouldn't have come here, she thought. It was a mistake. I don't belong here, among these rich, selfish people. She knew now that by making Darien bring her she had been trying to prove to herself that she was as good as the Brodeys, that she had as much right to be here as any of the guests. But she had found just the opposite. Pride deserted her and she feel desolated. But then that feeling of hatred for the Brodeys came back, this time far more forcefully. And this time she didn't fight it but instead fed on it, so that her chin gave up and she gave Darien a smile in which coldness glittered like ice. "How long does it usually take you before you tired of your women?" she asked with sardonic flippancy. "Just on average will do. You don't have to be specific." "What kind of question is that?" Darien said roughly. "I'm just trying to find out how long I'm likely to be your--- 'possessions'". The music came to an end and Darien stood still. There was a strange glint in his eyes as he stood looking down at her. "Well, now, that might take some time. After all, you did promise to be anything I wanted you to be." Serena stared at him wide--eyed, feeling suddenly afraid, like a small child faced with something it didn't understand. Her lips parted but she couldn't speak. The look in Darien's eyes changed, darkened with desire. Putting a hand on her arm, he said, thickly, "Let's get out of here." They went back to the flat and had sex. There was no way you could call it making love. Darien had walked her out of the ball, not bothering to say goodnight to any of his family. They had got into his car and he had driven fast and silently back into town to the apartment building. He had remained silent while he'd taken her up the lift, into the flat and onto the bedroom. He'd snapped on a couple of lamps, drawn the curtains, then turned and spoke for the first time. "Now show me what I've bought." Serena stared at him, realizing what he had wanted. She was already taut with nervous tension, but now her heart began to beat wildly in her chest. I can't do this, she thought in panic. I can't! her eyes went to Darien, looking for compassion, but he was watching her intently, his features sharpened by erotic anticipation, that strange, dark look in his eyes again. What she saw drained all hope from her. There was no way he was going to take a denial. And why should he? They had made a bargain which he had kept, and now she must pay the price. Deliberately she cut out Darien and her surroundings, thought only of the squalor of the house where she'd live last, of being dirty and hungry. Trying desperately to keep only those things in her mind, she lifted her hands to the button at the back of her dress and began to take off her clothes. Darien stood and watched her as she take off the garments one by one and let them drop to the floor. Her top and skirt, the gloves, a long silk slip that came almost down to her feet. His hands were thrust into his trouser pockets and he must have clenched them, because the material became taut across his hips. Serena stepped out of her shoes, bent to remove her pale stockings, and was unable to cut herself off any longer. Her emotions were here and now, raw and chaotic. Straightening, she saw the deep hunger in Darien's eyes, the tiny beads of sweat on his upper lip, and the growing hardness of his body. She became still, and he said impatiently, roughly, "Go on." She shook her head. "No, damn you. I won't!" His eyes came up to meet hers. "Anything I want you to be," he reminded her thickly. His gazed seemed to drain the defiance from her. Slowly she took of her underwear and let the wisps of silk and lace fall from her fingers. Only then did he cross to her, touch her. Serena shut her eyes, not wanting to see, trying to detach her mind from her body. At first his fingers seemed unsure, unsteady, touching her lightly, but each touch leaving a trail of heat across her skin. Gradually his hands became more sure as he explored her, and it was hard just to stand passively and let him do what he wanted. He moved away, came back, came close. Deliberately he moved his legs against hers and she felt the silkiness of his bare skin. He bent and she felt his lips on her breast. Serena gave an involuntary gasp, hastily cut short. She felt him grow still for a moment, but she kept her eyes tight shut, stood stiff and unyielding before him. He began to caress her again and his hands were urgent now, trembling with inordinate desire as he held and stoked her. And they were so hot, so hot. She had to stifle a quiver of emotion, kill the awakening of awareness of her own body. His breath was hoarse now, panting. Suddenly Darien swept her up in his arms and carried her to the bed, lowered her on it and came over her all in one movement. Opening her eyes, she saw him above her, his face dark with sexual need. Lifting a hand, he put it against her face. Serena jerked away and, her eyes burning into his, and said with fierce loathing, "I hate you." For a brief second he checked, and his brows flickered, but then he gave an odd, grim kind of laugh and said, "Well, that's novel." But then he came down on her and said through gritted teeth, "But let's see if you hate this." She didn't hate it, and was ashamed of herself for not doing so. She tried to be stiff and detached, to think only of how much she hated Darien and the Brodeys, but somewhere along the line her errant body betrayed her, and she found herself moving to accept him, her hands lifting to grip his shoulders, and her mouth opening to moan with pleasure. Afterwards, when Darien had groaned his own excitement and moved away from her, he put a possessive arm across her and lowered his head to kiss her. But by then waves of shame at her own lack of will-power had hit her and Serena was close to tears. Pushing him away, she rolled off the bed and ran into the bathroom, locking the door behind her. Leaning against the door, she stood in trembling agitation, her hands gripped together and pressed against her mouth, stifling the sobs so that he wouldn't hear. But they were more sobs of rage at herself than of distress. Why couldn't she have controlled her stupid body? Why? Because it had been good, that was why. The reason was simple enough. Darien's reputation with women had not been an idle one; he knew how to please a woman and lift her to the heights. How to make love. No, not make love, how to have sex skillfully. Love didn't come into it, and it was a word she would never think of in connection with him, with the act they had just performed. Act. The word stayed in her mind as Serena stood under the shower and turned on the water. If she could pretend that this wasn't real, that she was just an actress playing a part, maybe that would help her to be detached from it. But she still despised herself for having found pleasure in it when Darien had merely been using her for his own gratification. Why did it always have to be that way? Why couldn't women use men for their pleasure? That's what I'd like to do, she thought, show him what it's like to be used. Make him feel the way I'm feeling now. But that was just a fantasy, a wishful dream born of her own guilt and shame which was soon pushed to the back of her mind. But the idea about acting a part stayed in her mind, helped somehow. Serena dried herself off and put on the new bathrobe that she had bought that morning. When she came out into the bedroom she found that Darien had got into the bed and was asleep. She found a black silk nightdress and put it on, then turn towards the bed, but hesitated. As she gazed down at Darien it came to her that she had never really looked at him before. When they had first met her attention had been solely on Andrew, and since then the only times she'd seen Darien seemed to have been charged with tension for her really to register how he looked. But now, while he slept, she studied his face, thinking that, although resemble his male cousins in some ways, Darien was the least typical of the Brodeys. Whereas they were blond, Darien's hair, probably because of his half-Portuguese mother, was black, and there was a hint of his high-bred Latin ancestors in the clean angles of his cheeks and jawbone and in his high forehead. But the passionate line of his mouth, the long lashes that brushed his cheeks, his tall, muscular body, they were all from his father, from his Brodey blood. His eyes opened and he looked directly at her as she stood over him. He didn't blink or look startled, just let his eyes travel over her and take in the black neglige that clung to her body, revealing nothing and yet hiding nothing. When she didn't speak, he sat up and said,"So you didn't hate it." There was no point in denying it; it had been plain enough to them both. Her chin came up. "So?" Holding out his hand to her, his voice silky, Darien said, "so come back to bed." Serena hesitated, trying to think herself into a part, an actress's role, but she hesitated too long. With a low chuckle, Darien reached for her hand and pulled her down beside him. A third time that night, and again in the morning, he took her. And although it was the same, each time was somehow different. Perhaps it was the tempo. That first time Darien had been driven by an overwhelming sexual need which was hardly slaked after the second and third times, but in the morning he awoke before her and it was the touch of his lips on her breasts that brought her back to awareness, not only of her surroundings, but of the sexual arousal of her own body. He put his hand on her hip, let it stroke down her leg, but he was intent on what he was doing, not caring whether she was awake or not. But it was impossible to feign sleep when her breasts hardened under his mouth, when he rained kisses up the column of her throat and along her chin. He came to her mouth, which was parted in the breathless sensuality, and hovered there for a moment, his eyes dark and heavy with his own heated desire. Lowering his head, he bent to kiss her lips, but Serena turned her head away. Immediately he put his hand under her chin and forced her head back, even though she tried her best to resist him. She glared up at him defiantly, and he lowered his head again. But he didn't kiss her property, merely brushed her lips lightly with his, then looked at her mockingly, letting her know that he could have done if he'd wanted to, if he cared enough to force the issue. But he didn't. Why should he when he could take the rest of her whenever he pleased? Like now. He put a hand under her and arched her towards him, the better for her small, delicate body to accommodate his dominant masculinity, then he took her with slow, unhurried strokes that nevertheless brought her again to the heights of sexual excitement. They both showered, Darien wrapping a white bath-sheet round himself afterwards as he went into the kitchen to look for something to eat. "Hey, didn't you buy any food?" he called out. Serena came out of the bathroom, doing up the belt of her robe. "No." She noticed there were red marks on his shoulders where her fingers had gripped him. "Why not?" She shrugged. "There was time yesterday. And anyway…" Darien straightened up from looking in the fridge. "Yes?" It was difficult to put what she wanted to say into words. Serena wasn't even sure that she wanted to tell him that yesterday she had given no thought to today, that she hadn't even wanted to think about it. "I just didn't get round to it," she said, because he was waiting. We'd better go out for some breakfast, then?" "I'm not hungry." She didn't want to go out. She was mentally and physically exhausted from the night before. "You're not?" I'm starving; I need to go out and eat." "In the evening clothes you were wearing last night?" "Oh, yeah, I forgot." Going into the bedroom, Darien picked up his trousers and took his car keys from the pocket. "I brought a bag with me but I left it in the car. Why don't you dress and then go and bring it up for me?" Darien had couched it as a request but really, of course, it was an instruction. He lay down on the bed again, propped up on his elbow, while Serena sorted out some clothes. She started to carry them to the bathroom to dress, but Darien said, "No. Do it in here." She was still for a moment, but then her features became set as she obeyed him. Very conscious of his eyes on her, she wondered if he expected her to make a show of it, like a strip-tease in reverse, like last night in reverse. If so, he was disappointed. Shutting him out as much as she could, she just got dresses in the normal way, as she always did. Glancing past her reflection in the mirror as she put on her make-up, she noticed that Darien had that odd sort of hooded look in his eyes. She couldn't fathom it, didn't even much care. Ready now, she turned to face him. "Is that how you get your kicks?" she asked him. "Watching women dress and undress?" His brows flickered, but he said, "That's right. I can't get enough of it." Disgust showed in her eyes and voice as Serena said, "I bet you read porno magazines too." His mouth quirked mockingly. "Why should I--when I have the real thing right here?" She had left herself wide open to that one, she realised. Picking up the keys, she let herself out of the flat and leaned back in the empty lift with her eyes closed. She had got over the worst, she told herself. After last night it would just be repetition. Maybe Darien would soon grow tired of her. But he was so virile; she hadn't expected that. But then, he was still young, only in his late twenties, if bot younger. For the first time it crossed her mind to wonder why, when he had such a reputation and was still young, he bothered to make bargain with her, why he had made her his mistress at all. With his looks and his money, there must be any number of girls that he could seduce, if not here, then in any of the countries where he was a frequent visitor. And if Andrew Brodey was the most eligible bachelor around, then Darien must be close to second. Serena frowned, thinking that it didn't add up. Unless of course Darien had been piqued because she had turned him down originally, had made it plain from the start that she wasn't interested, so that he had been determined to get her, even to but her if it was necessary. Yes, that was far more likely. That added up all right. And she was more convinced than ever now that it had been Darien who'd told Mina that she was a gatecrasher in their fairy-tale place, in their synthetic lives. She got his bag from the car and after she gave it to him Darien dresses, but she didn't watch him. He'd brought well-cut casual clothes that didn't look out of place in a tourist hotel where he took her for breakfast. It was a few miles along the coast, a place where he evidently wasn't known. He had stopped to buy a paper on the way and read the financial section as he ate. Serena didn't mind; she wasn't exactly the talkative type first thing in the morning herself. Finishing first, she sat back and wondered what she was supposed to do for the rest of the day. Would Darien leave her at the flat while he went back to the palacio, or what? She had thought before that she had no future; now she didn't even know what was going to happen even an hour into the future. The thought made her gave a twisted smile of irony, which Darien, glancing up, noticed. "What is it?" Remembrance of the night came to her and she said, "I feel like an actor waiting for the director to tell me what to do; that I have no mind of my own and must wait until the script is ready and I'm given instructions." His eyes stayed on her face. "And am I the director?" "Yes." Her voice grew bitter. "The puppeteer pulling the strings of the marionette." "Marionettes are made of wood." "Yes, I know." Leaning forward, Darien's voice suddenly became intense. "You're not made of wood, Serena. You proved that last night. And, no matter how you try to hold back, you'll never be able to. Because you're too sensuous by nature." He gave her a knowing grin. "Because you like it too darn much." She stared at him, feeling annihilated by shame, a shame that quickly turned to anger. "I hate you," she told him for the second time. Darien laughed. "No, you don't. You just hate the way I make you feel. You were all set to lie there like some martyr, as stiff as a stone, but you find you couldn't, and that's what's making you angry. Not me." "You're completely wrong," Serena said shortly. "I do hate you--and all your family." But Darien wasn't in the least put out. Glancing at his watch, he said, "Talking of family, I suppose I'd better be getting back to the house. We're having a last lunch, all of us together, before everyone starts to leave." "Aren't you going to take me with you?" Serena said provocatively. "Not this time. Family only." Darien folded his paper and stood up. "Then don't go. Stay with me." Getting to her feet, she moved to stand close to him, and leaned her shoulder against him in a small but intimate gesture. It was a test of power she knew she didn't have. Not now he'd taken her. He'd wanted her enough to agreed to take her to the ball, but he would never allow her to encroach again. His eyes smiled a little and he put a hand on her shoulder in a possessive gesture, but he shook his head. "My parents are leaving to go back to Lisbon after lunch, and I must be there to say goodbye to them." They walked out to the car, his hand still on her shoulder. "I'll drop you in town. Buy some food, enough for about three days. Can you cook?" "No," Serena lied. Darien grinned. "Somehow I didn't think you could. Just get breakfast stuff, then, and we'll eat out in the evenings. "And after three days?" "Oh, yes, buy a suitcase. We'll be moving on." "Where to?" "New York first, then round." "Around where?" "Wherever I have to go on company business." He said it vaguely. Perhaps he meant to. It certainly didn't make Serena feel anymore secure, give her much future to look forward to. But the thought of going to America pleased and excited her; she would be glad to leave Portugal behind; nothing good had happened to her here. Except meeting Rei and the girls; their friendship and kindness had made up for a lot. Thinking of them made her say to Darien as he drove along, "I shall need some more money." Leaning forward, he fished is wallet out of his pocket and handed it to her. "Take what you want out of there." The gesture surprised her; she hadn't expected him to be so open, so generous. But maybe he felt sure of her now, convinced that she wouldn't try to run out on him. Because of the money--or because she'd enjoyed sex? That last thought was pushed hastily out of her mind. Flipping open the wallet, she took out some notes. There were other things in there, credit cards, that kind of thing, but she didn't notice ant photographs. She gave him back the wallet and put the money in her purse. When he dropped her in the Praca de Republica, the first thing she did was phone the girls and invite them out to lunch. "My treat," she told them. "And I hope you're hungry." There were hugs all round when they met, and they had a great lunch at one of the best restaurants in Oporto, drinking wine and laughing a lot. The girls were tactful, not asking where the money for the meal or for Serena's new clothes had come from. But then they didn't have to; they had already guessed. Afterwards Serena gave each of them a present of a box of exquisite lingerie that she had charged to Darien's account. But when the others had gone and the time came to say goodbye to Rei, the Portuguese girl gave her a troubled look. "Are you happy with what you're doing?" "Sure. Of course." Serena made her voice as positive as she possibly could. "This man," Rei said hesitantly. "Is he the one who came looking for you at our boarding house after you had left? Did he find you?" "Came looking for me?" Serena frowned. "But no one knew I was there. Did you see this man? What did he look like?" "No, I was at work. But Senhora Molly who lives on the first floor, she saw the man and heard him talking to the landlord, and she told us. She said he was not Portuguese, although he spoke the language perfectly. That he was tall and looked English or American. She said his clothes were good. Does that help? Is it him?" "Yes," Serena said thoughtfully. "That does sound like him." "Senhora Molly said he was very handsome," Rei said on a note of curiosity. "Perhaps you are in love with him, no?" "No," Serena said definitely, but then quickly put a reassuring hand on Rei's arm as she saw the disappointment in her face. "But the senhora is right; he is quite good-looking." "So perhaps you will fall in love soon," Rei smiled. She had to rush away then, to go back to work, and Serena watched her go with regret; it was hardly likely that they would meet again. Turning away, her face hardened. It was clear that Darien had found out where she was living, so it could only have been he who had told the landlord about her and got her turned out. He must have known that she was near enough destitute and was hardly likely to get a job. All he'd had to do then was wait until she got desperate enough to call him. No wonder it had taken him so little time to arrange the apartment for her; he must have had it all ready and waiting. "Come into my parlour," said the spider to the fly." The aptness of the quotation made her rage inwardly. How easily she had fallen into the trap that Darien had set for her. What a gullible fool! She ought to have realised it could only have been him. Again she thought of walking out on him, and, turning, began to stride towards the station, seething with anger. OK, so she couldn't leave Portugal because Darien had her passport, but she could go to Lisbon, hide herself away there. But just as she was entering the building she stopped suddenly. Darien had said that he would come after her, bring her back. And he could do it, too. He had power here, where she had none. She couldn't hide away for long; she would have to come out to look for work, and then he would surely find her and drag her ignominiously back. And then where would her pride--all that she had left--be? A sense of fatalism swept over her, and she slowly turned to retrace her steps. But the knowledge of the dirty trick Darien had played on her had added fuel to the hatred growing inside her. She bought the food that Darien had instructed her to get, just buying the minimum necessary, then took a cab back to the apartment. A maid must have been in: the bed was made and there were fresh towels in the bathroom. Suddenly she felt dreadfully tired, and after putting the food away she took off her dress and shoes and lay on the bed to rest. Sunlight lay across her, making her feel warm, so that she didn't cover herself. The sleepless night and the wine she and drunk at lunchtime sent her quickly and deeply into slumber, and she didn't hear the door open an hour or so later as Darien came into the room. It was his shadow lying across her, cutting off the light and warmth of the sun, that brought her back to consciousness. He was standing over her, watching her as she slept, making her feel vulnerable. She went to sit up, but he lay down quickly beside her and put a hand on her shoulders to push her down again. "No," he said in a voice charged with need. "Stay right there where you belong." "No, I don't want to." She went to hit out at him but he caught her wrists, and held them against the pillow above her head with one hand. He laughed softly. Unhooking her bra, he began to caress her with his free hand and his mouth. His lips lit deep, consuming fires within her that betrayed her resolution, killed all resistance. "Don't you?" he breathed, his lips against her throat. "Do you really want me to stop?" "Yes." His hand immediately became still and he drew back, letting her go. For a moment she stared up at him, but then gave a low sob and said, "No!" And, reaching out, she pulled him down again.