Fushigi Yuugi Fan Fiction ❯ Leather and Lace ❯ Chapter 8

Leather and Lace

By: Maidens of Konan

(Disclaimer: We do not claim to own any part of Fushigi Yugi, it is owned by Watase Yû, Shogakukan Comics, Pierrot Studios, TV Tokyo and Pioneer! However, we do claim the rights to the past, present and future lives of any original characters that may appear in this story. Please do not use them without our permission, or we will be forced to send Byakko the tiger god to take a bite out of your sorry backside.)

Chapter Rating: 15+ for spicy language, angst and sensuality

Chapter Eight

After an exchange of quick goodbyes with Craig, Dante slammed the phone back in its base and then turned to face the wall. Leaning a forearm against it, he bowed his head and silently cursed himself for taking the call.

He could hardly believe what Craig had just told him, but had to admit that it did provide a good explanation for a couple of things he'd been wondering about. If Miaka had taken a demotion to come and work in the States as she had said, Sukinami had to be paying at least some of her bills until she got established. The guy had set her up in a designer decorated place, and probably had sprung for the flashy sports car and who knew what else in return for having her at his convenience.

The certainty of that knowledge made him ache with anger, sadness and jealousy, but what could he do about it without compromising the investigation? What's he thinkin', treatin' her more like a mistress than a girlfriend? An' if I walk away from her now, it's gonna get worse! She's gonna end up with someone who doesn't have a goddamn clue about what makes her happy!

With a restless movement, Dante turned so that his back was against the wall- a position that mirrored the way he was feeling. He desperately wanted to ignore what Craig had said, but doing so meant going against his damn cop's code of honor. From every standpoint it would be unethical and dishonorable for him to keep seeing Miaka on a social basis. A personal relationship with her would put him in direct conflict of interest in building a case against Thornton Industries, which would cause severe problems for the prosecution if ever the day came where there was enough proof to nail Sukinami and his superiors.

Besides that complication, there was also the matter of how Miaka would feel about him having headed the fraud investigation in which her boyfriend was the top suspect. Would she ever believe him if he said that their meeting had been a coincidence, and that he hadn't asked her out to glean information from her about Sukinami? And even if she did believe him, would she want to see him while he was actively trying to put her boyfriend behind bars?

And yet...if he broke things off now, he never would know if they could have worked things out. If he broke things off now, it would hurt Miaka…and doing that would rip his heart in two. To deliberately inflict pain upon her was inconceivable, yet what choice did he have in the matter?

But is really bad for me to keep on seein' her? Who's gonna protect her if it turns out he's a scam aritst? With her family so far away, she's gonna need someone to lean on. Someone will need to speak in her behalf, to remind them that she had nothin' to do with his business dealings, and that bein' someone's girlfriend ain't a crime!

Righteous anger welled within him, bringing with it an intense need to expend the energy that seemed to be building inside his very soul. He straightened and his right hand instinctively reached behind him as if to grasp something, only to falter when it encountered thin air.

What did I do that for? I must be losing my freakin' mind!

He quickly lowered his arm- only to get another shock when he saw that his tattoo was glowing as brightly as the end of a branding iron straight out of a fire. He stared at it in bemusement and then tentatively raised his other hand to touch it, wondering why it didn't surprise him that it was cool to the touch.

First I'm reaching for imaginary objects and now my tattoo looks like it's glowin'! It's just plain, fuckin' weird!

It was too much to think about right now; the odd sensation of having untapped power, his desire for Miaka, his reassignment, and the dilemma of what to do now that he knew Sukinami was her boyfriend. He needed time to think, needed to sleep on it, needed a chance to sort things out before deciding how to proceed. Maybe he'd even discuss it with Connery. In any case, his top priority right now was finding a way to explain his change of heart to Miaka after he had been so determined to get her into his life and his bed.

He thought for a moment and then returned to his living room with lagging steps, armed with what he knew was a horrible, half-assed excuse. Miaka didn't hear him come in, and he took full advantage of the reprieve to take a long, and possibly final look at the best thing that had ever happened to him.

She was standing in front of the picture window, staring out into the orange -and -purple dusk, obviously waiting for them to pick up where they had left off. He noticed at once that she had discarded his robe in favor of his T-shirt, and the sight provoked a sense of possessiveness mixed with pleasure that was shocking in its intensity. His eyes avidly ran down the length of her body to the shapely legs below the hem of the denim shorts she still wore. God, how he'd love to have those legs locked around his waist...but that was impossible. No matter how much it hurt, he had to do the right thing.

He cleared his throat to attract her attention.

Miaka turned quickly at the sound, and the sultry smile she wore faded as soon as she saw his face. "You have to go, don't you?"

Her tone was laced with understanding, but Dante could still sense the disappointment she was trying so hard to hide. He cleared his throat once again, this time to get rid of the lump of regret that had lodged there, and forced himself to continue before his resolve slipped away.

"Yeah, I have to go." He affirmed gruffly. "There's an emergency down at Brew You."

She gaped at him. "Oh no! Is Craig all right?"

"Don't worry, he's fine." Dante looked away, unable to meet her trusting gaze as he continued with the hastily concocted lie. "Um, it seems his refrigerator broke down. He's got a ton of perishables in it because of a big business party being held there tomorrow night and since I know a few things about coolant units, an' can get there in time to help…." His voice trailed off and he shrugged helplessly, hating how lame the excuse sounded. It would serve him right if Miaka told him to go right to hell and never come back.

To his surprise, she did nothing of the kind.

"That's terrible!" She exclaimed, looking just as shocked as if he had said Craig had been mugged or robbed at gunpoint. "I want to help! I can pack the food in coolers while you-"

"Thanks, but Craig an' his staff have it covered." He broke in firmly. "An' besides, you have to be to work early tomorrow, don'tcha? I have no idea how long this is gonna take and you need your rest."

She shook her head. "It's okay! I don't mind losing a little sleep if I can help out a friend-"

"Maybe you don't mind, but I do!" Dante folded his arms across his chest and gave her his hardest, most uncompromising stare. "Go on home, this is nothing for you t'be concerned about." He purposely sharpened his tone, hating himself all the while he was doing it.

For a long, drawn out moment she simply stood there, staring up at him. Dante felt his heart sinking at the stricken look on her face. Something very precious was slipping away from him, and he didn't have a clue if he'd ever get it back.

"You're right, I am a little tired. " She said unsteadily. "I'll be going, then. Thank you for inviting me to stay for dinner and for all of your help today." She made a move to walk by him, but Dante surprised her and himself by stepping in front of her.

"I'm the one who should be thankin' you! That was an awesome meal- don't remember ever havin' a better one."

A sad smile touched her lips. "I feel the same way about that wonderful neck rub you gave me."

He couldn't help it- he had to touch her one more time. Reaching out a hand, he gently ran his knuckles down the curve of her face. "It was my pleasure," he said huskily, liking the way her eyes closed as his skin encountered hers. They opened again when his hand fell away, and the desire he saw in them was almost his undoing. He started to lean forward, caught himself, and then in sheer desperation, turned his back to her.

Miaka could stand it no longer. "Dante, have I done something to upset or offend you?"

He assumed a bland expression before turning around to face her. "Of course ya haven't! Why do ya ask?"

"Why?" Her cheeks were flagged with color, and her lovely green eyes were ablaze with anger and frustration. "I'm asking because you've been acting like a jerk since you got off the phone and I want to know why!"

"I don't know what you're talking about! I just gotta leave, is all." Dante closed his eyes as he told the lie, and then jerked in surprise as he felt Miaka's hand close on his arm. Hearing her gasp of pain, he quickly opened them again in time to see her snatch her hand back as if burned.

"I'm so sorry." Her voice was almost a whisper, underlining the fact that his defensive reflex had hurt her far more than any words he could have spoken. "I'm sorry for showing up unannounced, and for pushing you into something you didn't really want."

His stomach twisted into knots at the wounded look in her eyes. He took a step towards her. He couldn't let it end like this. "Miaka-"

Her upraised, trembling hand stayed his words and froze him in place. "You don't have to say anything more, Officer." He flinched inwardly as she emphasized his title with quiet dignity. "I may be naïve and stupid at times, but I'm not so dense that I can't take a hint. If you don't mind, I need to use your bathroom first, and then I'll be leaving." The words 'for good' were conveyed in her tone.

Stone-faced and silent, Dante watched her turn on her heel and practically run out into the hallway.As she left, the room seemed to grow dark and cold in spite of the warmth of the gas fireplace.

As he turned to stare at blue flames flickering beneath fake birch logs that never burned or crackled with heat, the truth hit him. If he let Miaka walk out now, his life would feel as incomplete as his family room was without a real, honest-to-god fireplace. Oh sure, he could fake being happy, could find temporary warmth and pleasure in female companionship and good sex…but in the end, nothing would satisfy him but Miaka. She was the real deal for him; he had known it the moment he had looked into her eyes.

In the space of the next few seconds, Dante came to a firm conclusion. Even though it was an ethical conflict of interest to keep seeing Miaka, he couldn't and wouldn't give her up. What they had shared eclipsed everything that had been important to him up until now, including his career. He'd give it up and then some if it meant he could keep her with him.

When she comes out, I'll apologize. He decided. I'll ask her forgiveness, tell her how I feel, and we'll take things from there.

It didn't dawn on him that she had been lying about having to use the bathroom until he heard the sound of his front door being opened and closed. Spitting out a loud curse, he raced to the door, only to be greeted by the sight of a visibly crying Miaka slamming her car door shut as she started the engine. Before he could attempt to stop her, she had backed out of the driveway and roared off down the street.

All he could do was stand on his porch and stare after the retreating tail lights, until the tears in his own eyes blurred them beyond recognition.

_________________________________________________________________ _______

Miaka parked in the lot of her apartment building and switched off the ignition, still shaking with the aftermath of emotion that had hit as soon as she had left Dante's. She didn't remember much about the drive home, only the aching sense of loss she had endured from the moment she had sensed his cool withdrawal. How could he have changed his attitude so quickly? I was so sure he felt the same way I did…at least… I know he wanted me…

Why had he changed his mind? Could it be that he was worried that she might end up regretting making love with him because of Taka? Or was it something that had been said during his phone call that spoiled the mood? She couldn't for the life of her figure out what the phone call could have had to do with he, though. She had no secrets to be ashamed of, and he already knew she had been dating Taka for quite some time, so what on earth could he have heard that would change his mind?

She took several deep breaths, trying both to calm herself, and to summon the energy to move to more comfortable and warmer surroundings. Dante' t-shirt afforded little protection against the cool evening air, and lord knows she couldn't afford to get sick and miss work on top of everything else. Sitting in a parked car in the middle of the night was not going to help her figure out what had gone wrong and she still had to go to work the next day. If she sat here much longer pining over the situation she would never get any sleep. Wiping the back of her hand across her eyes, she yanked her keys from the ignition and pulled herself out of the car.

Once she had reached the apartment, she took a moment to give Mizu the treat she had remembered to buy him before going to Dante's, and then headed straight for her bedroom. Her body and mind were desperately crying out for the oblivion of slumber; nevertheless, her hands stilled in the process of drawing the borrowed T-shirt over her head.

After a moment, released the hem to grab and tug the collar up under her nose and inhaled deeply. A mixture of Dante's cologne and natural masculine scent filled her nostrils and she closed her eyes tightly against the ache of longing it provoked.

Something soft and furry rubbed against her ankles, jolting her out of her painful reverie. Miaka smiled down at her pet, who had abandoned his beloved smoked fish to console her. She bent down to pick up her pet and rubbed her cheek against his fuzzy head.

"Mizu, I may have grown up but nothing's changed, " she said sadly. "I'm still the naive little fifteen year old running after the boy she has a crush on but can't have."

The cat stared at her, then let out a gruff meow. Miaka nodded.

"Right. What I feel for Dante is nothing near a crush, but I'm afraid I pushed the issue. He was so kind and sweet and passionate …but then he went all cold. I suppose that phone call gave him the time to think about everything. "

Mizu cocked his head inquiringly as his owner stared into space for a moment.

"You know, Mizu...it seems Dante has no memories of being Tasuki, but I can't help but wonder if his past life is starting to emerge...at least in his subconscious. Tasuki was always wary about getting involved with women. He always said he couldn't stand them, that they were cheaters…" Her lips turned downward at the recollection. "Well, he was right." She declared sadly. "I am a cheater! After all this time Taka and I have been together I tried to seduce another man and I can't even find it in me to feel sorry about it! I can't blame Dante for having second thoughts about me!"

She gently set her cat down on the bed, before jerking back the covers and climbing into it. Mizu, sensing his human urgently needed comforting, immediately padded over to snuggle against her chest instead of settling in his usual spot behind her knees. He stared at her with an unblinking, hypnotic gaze, appearing as if he were trying to will her not to give up on love. Miaka's hand lifted to stroke his soft fur, taking solace in the soothing sound of the feline's low, vibrant purr.

"Oh Mizu-pizu…I wish human men could be as attentive as you are! Thank you for listening."

She closed her eyes and her hand slowed its stroking motion as she gradually relaxed and slipped into slumber. However, Mizu did not close his eyes until his mistress' tears had ceased soaking her pillow, and her deep, even breathing told him she was asleep.

_________________________________________________________________ _______

Dante shut his ticket book with a snap, stalked back to his squad car, yanked the door open, got in and then shut it behind him with a slam that rocked the vehicle.

He had just issued his fifteenth speeding ticket of the day which made up for his sub-par performance the day before. It also put him close to his assigned quota for an entire week, not that he gave a hoot in hell about the things. His ruthless efficiency wasn't motivated by numbers, but by his being in no mood to let anyone off the hook- least of all himself.

After Miaka had left him, he had wandered around his house while debating whether to follow or call her, but finally had succeeded in convincing himself she needed some time to cool down. He then had forced himself to sit down and watch some TV, hoping the monotony of channel flipping would distract him from his moral dilemma. When that didn't work, he had gone to bed early but couldn't fall asleep as confused thoughts buzzed in his head and his emotions continued to spin out of control.

When he finally did doze off in the wee hours just before dawn, his dreams brought him no peace as they were filled with dark, erotic images of Miaka moaning and undulating beneath his thrusting body, her legs and womanhood clamped around him like a silken vise. The sensations from the dream coupling were so intense and so real that he had quickly awakened to find himself saddled with a painful erection and the insatiable need to have Miaka beneath him. An ice cold shower at five a.m. had helped him get his hormones under control, but it hadn't washed away the sadness and pain he felt every time he pictured her tear-filled eyes and trembling hand as she told him she could 'take a hint'.

No doubt about it, he had been a complete jerk and the worst kind of coward last night. He had hurt Miaka, simply because he had been too afraid to take a chance on bending a few rules.

That wasn't like him at all!

Despite his conventional upbringing and sterling service record, he had always been a loose cannon. Acting on his instincts occasionally got him in trouble, as his present position on the force proved, but much more often than not they had paid off huge dividends in solved cases, commendations and promotions. Listening to his instincts was what made him a damn good cop, so why had he questioned them when it came to Miaka?

He had finally found a woman he knew he could love for eternity and had thrown her away because he was afraid; afraid to trust, afraid of the consequences of letting himself love her, afraid of what people would say…and most of all, afraid she wouldn't choose him over Sukinami.

Dante slammed a fist down on the steering wheel. What the hell is wrong with me? I've never backed down from a fight before, an' if there's one thing worth fightin' for, it's her!

He glanced at his watch. Since he wasn't hungry, he hadn't taken his lunch break, which now provided him with a window of opportunity to make things right with Miaka. The lunch rush should be over with by now so she should have a little time to talk to me.

His decision now made, Dante started up the car, tromped down on the accelerator and with a spray of gravel and a loud screech of tires, pulled out onto the freeway.

_________________________________________________________________ _______

So far it had been a hellish day, and it was about to get worse.

"Well, well, if it isn't the delectable Miss Yuuki." A deep voice drawled.

Miaka grimaced, and then forced a smile. "Hello Chef McMasters." She replied, without looking up from the potatoes she was dicing for that evening's special entree. Perhaps he'd take the hint that she was busy and wait to pester her later.

"I like how you say that." He responded, much to her dismay. "Have I ever told you how erotic your accent makes things sound?"

Miaka sighed quietly, bracing herself for the onslaught of empty compliments and inevitable invitation to dinner that would follow. It had been like this since she had started working for him- Kevin asking her out and she refusing repeatedly.

"I think Olivia is looking for you." The lie sprang easily to lips, due to the amount of practice she had had in avoiding his amorous overtures. Surely he wouldn't turn down the chance to schmooze with the owner's wife!

"Olivia left ten minutes ago." McMasters countered with a self satisfied smirk as he leaned over her shoulder on the pretext of examining her work. His far superior height would have allowed him to also look down the v- neck of the scrub top she usually wore, which was why she had recently taken to wearing traditional high necked chef garb, though it wasn't required.

"Very nice, Miaka." He said smoothly. "You have delightfully strong hands."

Miaka tensed as she felt his hot breath against the nape of her neck, bared by a pretty but practical chignon. She bit her lip anxiously; she could deflect Kevin's sexual innuendos, but physical contact was another matter. So far he hadn't crossed that line in getting physical with her, but there was always a first time.

He exhaled again- on purpose this time she was sure. Apparently the man was more interested in the making stray wisps of hair dance against her neck than in watching her cutting techniques. She set down the knife she held for safety's sake and turned her head so that her nape was out of breathing range. "What do you think you're doing?" She asked, as mildly as she could. It wouldn't be wise to sound accusatory or insubordinate, but neither did she want him to think her easy prey by doing nothing to stop his little game.

He moved to stand in front of her as she turned. His close proximity to her forced her to look up at him and when she did, he flashed her the seductive smile that had persuaded countless women to occupy his bed.

"Not a thing." Holding up his hands in feigned innocence he added, "See? They're not doing anything and neither is the rest of me! No need to get so uptight." His eyes spotted the band aid on her finger and reached for her hand. "My dear girl, what is this?" He asked, holding her hand up to his face and eyeing the injury with a look of concern.

"I cut it last night making a salad." She said, as she firmly removed her hand from his grasp.

"Dinner for one again?"

Miaka silently counted to ten. "I'm sorry, I don't mean to be rude, but as you can see, I have a lot of work to do-"

"I won't keep you long." The master chef let his eyes roam the length of her body, and then ran his tongue over his lips in a manner she assumed she was supposed to find erotic. "I really don't understand that Taka of yours." His voice lowered. "His lack of vigilance will cost him his bride if he leaves you alone for too long."

The heat of anger rose in Miaka's face. "With all due respect Chef McMasters, I'd appreciate it if you kept those kinds of comments to yourself!"

"I'm just being honest." He said, moving so close that she was forced to back up against the counter in order to avoid contact. "It's a waste to cook for one. If you came over to my place tonight, I'd cook up a four star little feast for you." His smile was genuine, if a trifle overdone. "My Oysters Rockefeller is 'to die for'- according to what the New York Times food critic said- but I'd much rather hear your opinion of it!"

She shook her head. "I'm sure it is, but I must decline."

"I must decline." He mimicked her prim tone. "Miaka, Miaka…why can't you live a little? If you're worried about Sukinami, you shouldn't be. Someone as career oriented as he is will understand the importance of networking, and even if he did object, what's the harm in two coworkers having a gourmet meal and swapping cooking tips?" He leaned forward and placed his hands on the table behind her, his arms and body forging a cage of unrelenting muscle and intent. "Who knows, maybe you'll learn some new technique that could help you get that next big promotion, hmmm?"

Ice blue eyes blinked innocently at her, but the self-satisfied smirk gave him away. Miaka opened her mouth to tell him just what he could do with his invitation and the promotion, but stopped when one of the afternoon waitresses entered the kitchen. Kevin hastily stepped back, and Miaka quickly turned to pick up the knife…just in case.

"Excuse me Miaka, but there's someone out front who asking to talk to you! Hannah told him you were busy, but he says he has to get back to work and it can't wait."

"I need Miss Yuuki in the kitchen right now." Kevin stated coolly. His smirk had turned to a frown of annoyance. "Hannah should know better than to-"

"Thank you - please tell the gentleman I'll be right there." Miaka interrupted. Thank God! I'll take a disgruntled customer any day over this overbearing lech! She set down the knife, then turned to Kevin and shrugged. "My apologies for interrupting you, sir, but as we all know there's a strict policy here that the customer always comes first. I'll deal with him as quickly as I can."

"See that you do- these vegetables aren't going to chop themselves!" Kevin snapped, covering his frustration by reverting to temperamental chef mode. He watched with narrowed eyes as his petite assistant hurried out of the kitchen, then turned to the pretty young waitress. "Well hello there! You've just started working here, haven't you?"

Blushing with pleasure under the attention abruptly bestowed upon her, she nodded shyly.

"I'm Kevin McMasters, the Phoenix's head chef." He paused to smile apologetically. "It's a pleasure to meet you, but I'm afraid I haven't been told your name."

"My name is B-Briana, sir. I...I'm very happy to meet you too!"

Ah yes, he still had it. The girl was so enthralled with him she was stuttering. His smile widened. "Briana...a lovely name for a beautiful woman…"

It was a given that it took no effort on his part to secure a date with the already smitten waitress; with his, tall, muscular build, chiseled features, blonde hair and Nordic blue eyes, Kevin never had problems filling his arms or his bed with whatever woman he decided he wanted. No problems that is, until Miaka Yuuki came into his life. He had hired her six months ago without knowing what she looked like. He had been in a rush to find a new sous-chef and hired the first applicant he had run across whose resume had met his requirements. Little did he know that he wouldn't know a day's peace after she had shown up for work.

Everything about her drove him to the brink of a sexual frenzy, from the way she talked, to the smell of her perfume, to the way she glided around the kitchen as if it were part of her. It even aroused him to know that he never had to explain anything to her twice and that she had a brilliant mind and talent. He also found, to his surprise, that he actually respected her steadfast refusal to cheat on her boyfriend.

However, those who knew Kevin McMasters best also knew that his respect and admiration for a Miaka's principles would not stand in the way of his pursuit of her because, just like his constant quest for culinary perfection, she had become an obsession.

Her rejections of him didn't hurt; on the contrary, they challenged and inspired him to think of new and exciting ways to persuade her to accept. Her staunch refusals and cold resistance would only make his inevitable victory over her that much sweeter. She had to have a weakness; he just hadn't figured it out yet.

It's all about foreplay, my sweet Asian flower. The best is yet to come.

_________________________________________________________________ _______

Miaka strode through the nearly empty restaurant, smiling a greeting to the handful of customers still lingering over their lunches. As much as she was relieved to have escaped Kevin's advances, she hoped what awaited her wouldn't take long since it was just after three o'clock and in a couple of hours the restaurant would be filled.

She had been truthful with Kevin about the large amount of food preparation awaiting her before the dinnertime rush. There were three different sauces that needed the finishing touch, salmon fillets to de-bone, vegetables to dice, not to mention having to put together the elaborate garnishes that McMasters insisted should accompany all of his specialties. There was also the problem of her fragile emotional state to worry about and she prayed the customer wouldn't give her too hard a time or she might embarrass them both by breaking down right then and there.

But all worries about work and angry customers vanished as she neared the reception area and spied the tall, uniformed policeman standing there. His back was to her, and his hat was tucked under one muscled arm. Even at this distance the blazing red hair gave away his identity.

Her brisk stride faltered, and then dropped to a snail's pace. A sense of panic set her stomach churning as the pain she had managed to push aside for a few busy hours returned in full force.

Calm down, Miaka, you can handle this. Last night was all a big mistake- just hear him out, then tell him goodbye and get on with your life.

Spending the entire morning replaying the previous day's events in her mind had finally brought the conclusion that even though he was the incarnation of Tasuki, it was probably best for both Dante and herself to end their relationship. Okay, if truth be told, they hadn't even reached official relationship status yet, but she was certain that he couldn't deny that what they had shared with each other had felt like more...had been more than a physical thing.

Still, giving a name to what they had shared didn't matter any more. She had given up trying to rationalize her craven behavior in the last twenty-four hours and simply decided it was better not to see him again. The fact that he never tried to call this morning as she half hoped he might have only reinforced that decision. What the heck was he doing here now? What could he possibly have to say?

After smoothing a nervous hand over her upswept hair, she checked her chef's whites for foods stains, relieved to find that there weren't any noticeable ones. Her shoulders were slumped, and she quickly straightened them, hoping her resolve to end things would remain as stiff as her posture. As she approached the confrontation, she took a deep, calming breath...and almost forgot to let it out again as Dante turned his head and spotted her.

In that moment, as their gazes caught and held, she realized once and for all that she couldn't be the one to say goodbye.

Not this time.

This man and her memories of Tasuki were now united as one, and she knew beyond a doubt that she would never be able to exorcise one of them from her heart without losing the other. The passion she felt for them transcended everything else, and she couldn't deny it any longer. Dante would have to be the one that ended things. She didn't have the will or the strength to do it and never would again.

His genuine smile and the enthusiasm in his greeting threw her dire thoughts completely off course. "Hey there, Miaka!"

"Hello D-Dante…" Oh lord, she was stammering like a lovesick schoolgirl. Why couldn't she at least act as calm he apparently felt? "Did something happen? Are you on a call?"

"I'm on my lunch break." He replied, his smile vanishing in the face of her obvious tension. She couldn't help but feel better as she saw a muscle jump in his cheek; clearly he was a lot more nervous about this encounter than first appeared. "I thought you might be wantin' this back. " He added, holding out his hand to her in the manner of one extending an olive branch.

Her eyes lowered to stare blankly at what he offered; the t-shirt she had abandoned the night before. It was folded, clean, and wrinkle free. So that was it, he was only returning her property.

Taking the shirt from his grasp gave her a reason to avoid his eyes as she thanked him for the trouble she had caused him in having to return it.

"It's no trouble." His reply held an urgency that had her looking up in surprise.

"Of course it is." She demurred. "You ironed it and drove it here on your break. How could it not be?"

His smile held a warmth that was reflected tenfold in his gaze. "The answer to that is, how could it be when it gave me an excuse to come here and see ya?"

She was speechless.

"Oh, that's so sweet!" A voice gushed from directly behind them.

Miaka turned to glare in exasperation at the Phoenix Grill's lead hostess, who had remained behind her desk, taking in every aspect of the encounter with an unrepentant grin. "Color me impressed, Yuuki! Chivalrous men are hard to find!"

Dante glanced at her. "Appreciate the thought, ma'am, but somethin' tells me I'm going to have a hard time convincin' her!"

"The name's Hannah, and I can help you out!" She offered, as if Miaka weren't able to speak for herself. "How much do you know about Mia?"

"Not nearly enough," Dante drawled.

Feeling as if her face was permanently on fire, Miaka fumed silently, then decided it was best to ignore the entire conversation. She brought the folded shirt it to her chest, crossing her arms over it defensively.

"Is there anything else you wanted, Dante?" She asked pointedly, and then cringed at the poor choice of words.

His smile told her that the double meaning had also registered with him and that he was exercising great control in choosing to answer the question seriously. "Yeah, there was something else-"

He broke off in mid sentence, as his gaze briefly flicked to the avidly listening Hannah. "Look, is it possible for ya to take a break right now? There's something I'd like to discuss with you in private." He turned to look directly at the woman behind the hostess desk. "No offense intended."

"None taken." She assured him, coloring a bit under the look of approval he gave her.

As her co-worker gave Dante a lovely, high wattage smile in return, Miaka felt a stab of jealousy. It was unreasonable, unwarranted and irrational...but it decided the matter of whether she'd consent to his request.

"Hannah, if anyone asks where I went, tell them I'm on my supper break." She said shortly.

"Will do, Mia dear!" The hostess piped. "It was very nice to meet you, Dante! I hope we'll be seeing a lot more of you with Mia in the future!"

"Thank you, Miss Hannah. I'll be doin' mah very best to make that happen."

Dante's accent was now as thick as molasses, and Miaka had to fight an urge to smack him. How dare he use his Southern charm so blatantly on another woman!

She took the offered opportunity to glare daggers at the simpering hostess when Dante dropped his hat. Unfazed, Hannah mouthed 'he's a hottie, go for it, girlfriend ' while she mimed burning a finger on the unknowing Dante's bent back. At that, Miaka's irritation gave way to amusement.

Han-chan, you have no idea how hot. Talk about an understatement...

Hannah DeBerg had become her first female friend here at the Grill, and had often let her know in break time chats that she thought Miaka should be playing the field instead of waiting on Taka. She had even gone so far as to try matchmaking, pairing Miaka with one of the better looking, single male regulars at the restaurant. The man had been very kind and attentive in conversation, but Miaka had gently turned him down because her heart still belonged to Taka. Or so she had told herself at the time. Now she wondered if it was because she had been waiting for another man from her past to find her and fulfill his vow to make her happy...

She was jostled from her musings as Dante took her arm- gently, but with an assurance that brooked no argument - and guided her out of the building. Once they were outside under the blazing midday sun, he looked around. His eyes lit up as he spied the small, Japanese-style garden next to the restaurant, put there for the comfort of customers waiting for tables, and he wasted no time steering her over to it. They entered its gates with mutual sighs of relief, appreciating the cool, leafy shelter provided by the young maples and mountain ash planted along its winding walkway. Dante guided her over to a corner of the garden that boasted a small pond; when they reached it, he released her arm and they turned to each other.

After an awkward moment in which nothing was said, he looked down, cleared his throat and began to speak in a tone that was low and slightly defensive.

"Miaka, I want to explain what happened last night..."

She could feel panic setting in, but pushed it aside. He sounded nervous, and was avoiding her eyes. He was about to dump her, she was sure. Well so be it. She'd try to make it as easy for him as she could. She wouldn't let him see her cry.

"There's no need for any explanations, Dante." She said, cutting him off before he could say any more to release the flood that suddenly threatened to spill from her eyes. "It was my fault. Considering my situation, I never should have gone to your house in the first place, much less behaved as...um...wantonly as I did with you. I put you into an impossible position, then ran out on you when you did the right thing." She drew in a deep breath and summoned her courage, though her heart felt like it was being squeezed to death. "Actually, I think it's for the best if we put an end to this craziness before it's too-"

"Stop that."

The command was barely above a whisper, but the wealth of feeling behind it diverted her speech as effectively as if he had shouted.

Stubbornly, she tried again."Why are you-"

He cut her off. "Didn't your mother ever tell ya it's rude to interrupt when people are trying to tell ya something?"

The sight of his fang-tipped half-smile loosened the constriction around her heart.

"All the time!" She retorted, unconsciously slipping into the bantering mode they'd shared the night before. "But doesn't that rule apply to you?"

"No, 'cause you interrupted me first! Now will ya please be quiet and listen to me before ya start jumpin' to conclusions?"

As he spoke, Dante reached out to gently rub the top of her head with his knuckles. The gesture was so reminiscient of Tasuki that it left her unable to speak, let alone protest his bossiness. She nodded assent, then felt herself blushing once again her hands were taken in both of his.

"I should have done this properly after work with flowers an' stuff, but after thinking about the crappy way I acted I couldn't wait." He said. "I figured the most important thing was to come an' tell in person as soon as I could, how sorry I am for bein' a bad tempered swine and makin' ya cry." Looking soulfully into her eyes, he continued, "There's no excuse for what I did and said. I am very sorry, Miaka, and I'm here to ask ya for a second chance to prove I'm not the world class jerk I was last night. I don't deserve it, but will ya give me that chance?"

His eyes added their own eloquent plea as he brought her hands to his chest and placed them directly over his heart. Miaka hesitated for only a moment, and then nodded once again. No matter how wounded she'd been by last night's events, she couldn't refuse him a thing when he looked at her like that.

"Thank God!" Dante expelled a long breath and then leaned forward until his lips were next to her ear. "And as far you actin' like a wanton goes…" he lowered his voice, "will ya promise to act that way with me again?"

Giddy relief rushed through her body, washing away all the fears she had of him saying goodbye.

It no longer mattered that she'd cried herself to sleep; what mattered was that Dante still wanted to be with her and everything was all right with her world once again. Her heart felt lighter than air, and she couldn't contain a wide, happy smile. Turning her head so her lips brushed his cheek, she answered his request.

"Only if you promise to reciprocate next time I do."

She felt rather than saw him smile. "Lady, ya got yourself a deal."

As he began to nuzzle her ear and neck, she giggled, but then reluctantly pulled away from his teasing lips.

"What's wrong?" He asked, rearing back to look at her.

"We can't get carried away. Kevin will get mad if I come back all messed up."

Dark eyebrows drew together in a frown. "Who the hell's Kevin?"

"The head chef and my boss."

"So what's his problem? You're on break, there's no customers here an' you're with a cop!"

Miaka felt her face grow hot. "The problem is that he asked me out and I turned him down."

"Oh really." Dante's eyes hardened. "Just once?"

"More like once a day, actually," she admitted, and then playfully swatted him with her T-shirt as he glowered. "There's no need to be concerned! He's just a pouty, oversexed prima donna who isn't used to hearing the word 'no' from a subordinate."

"He's been givin' ya trouble on the job?"

"A little bit... but it's nothing I can't handle." She added quickly, as her companion's lips compressed into a straight line. "Kevin may be a lecher, but he's a harmless lecher. Eventually he'll get tired of being rejected and hit on someone else." When that assurance failed to wipe the frown from Dante's face, she wrapped her arms around his waist and looked deeply into his eyes. "Honestly, he's not that bad! I can deal with it!"

It was clear her assurances were falling on deaf ears. Dante's expression grew even more foreboding as he told her sternly, "You shouldn't have to 'deal with' your boss comin' onto you! In case ya didn't know, we have laws in this country regardin' no verbal, physical, or sexual harassment in the workplace!"

She averted her gaze. "It won't come to that. I'll take care of it before it does."

Dante reached out and curled his fingers around her chin, gently forcing her to look up at him. "Ya don't have to go it alone! All personal feelin' aside, it's part of my job-"

"-to serve and protect." Miaka finished with a smile. "And I promise you'll be the first one I call on if I need assistance with Kevin…or anything else." She fluttered her eyelashes at him.

"You damn well better."

Though his tone was gruff, Dante was smiling. Releasing her chin, he wrapped his arms around her, drawing her petite form tightly against him. "Okay, enough about the jerk. Miaka…the hours since ya left seemed like weeks to me." He lowered his head to rest his forehead against hers. "Thanks for not lettin' me screw things up."

"You're welcome." She said softly. "Now shut up and kiss me."

"Yes ma'am!"

Their lips met in a long, slow, and infinitely tender caress.

"We're okay now?" Dante asked, the moment it ended.

"More than okay." She laid her head on his chest and inhaled deeply, enjoying his cologne and natural masculine scent. His hands traveled their way up and down her back and she felt a deep contentment stealing over her- only to have it quickly shattered when he asked his next question.

"Then how about goin' out to dinner with me this Friday?"

Miaka stared at him, open dismay etched in her face. Oh no, not Friday…Cripple Creek…Taka…how can I tell him? But I can't lie. "I-I wish I could say yes, but I can't." Pulling out of his resisting arms, she gazed up at him with anxious, pleading eyes. "I promised someone I'd go to Cripple Creek with them this weekend and I can't get out of it." Her voice shook with disappointment. "I made those plans before last night…before we...you know. The reservation deposits have already been made, so it wouldn't be fair to cancel..."

When her voice trailed off, he asked, "it's the boyfriend?" Teary-eyed, she nodded, and he gave a faint smile. "You were straight with me about him from the first; I know the score, and I've decided to take my chances anyway. There's no need to feel bad on my account."

"But I do." She sniffled. "I want you to know that this trip is just going to be for the purposes of doing some sightseeing, plus it'll give me a chance to set things straight with him- "

"Ya don't have to explain," he interrupted quickly. "Like I said, I'm goin' into this thing with my eyes wide open. It'd be stupid for me to expect that he's going to disappear from your life just like that." He snapped his fingers.

Miaka nodded sadly. "There are things we've been through that bind us, even if we aren't together. I'd be lying if I said I could cut him totally out of my life."

_________________________________________________________________ _______

Dante tried hard not to let his jealousy show, even though it was hitting him like a kick to his chest. "I'm okay with that." For now, he added silently as he pulled her into his arms. "Just promise to think about me a little too."

"I will." She vowed, blinking hard. "I'll think about you and miss you every single minute I'm away."

"Good." His forefinger lifted to catch the fat, solitary tear that was rolling down her cheek. "Hey now, this is nothin' to be sad about! I need to get a ton of stuff done around the house this weekend. I'll keep busy, so don't be gettin' sad on my account!" He gave a loud, dramatic sigh. "Yes, you just go… go and have lots of fun shoppin', gamblin' and eatin', and don't worry your head about poor ole ' Dante, stuck at home all alone, crawlin' around on his hands and knees scrubbing gravy off his kitchen floor with stinky ole Pine Sol …" He let his voice trail off and gave her his best puppy- in-the-rain look, the effect of which was spoiled by the laughter lurking in his eyes.

As he had hoped it would, his silliness produced a wobbly smile."Oh you…"

"That's my girl!" He gave her an encouraging squeeze. "Damn it all, it seems like I'm always sayin' this to ya, but I really have to get back on duty." He grimaced. "I'm gonna have lots of paperwork at the end of my shift, so I'll probably finish around six. Can I give a call as soon as I get home?"

Miaka swiped at her moistening eyes with the back of one hand. "I'll be sitting by the phone." Her lips trembled.

"Aw darlin', don't cry...really, it's gonna be okay! C'mere..." Lowering his head, Dante pressed his lips against hers.

He had intended the kiss to be gentle and comforting, but that intention quickly escalated into a great deal more. In an unanticipated move, Miaka wrapped her t-shirt around his neck, holding one end in each hand, unashamedly using it as means of restraining him when he would have drawn back. When he capitulated and remained where he was, she brazenly tugged on it to bring him closer. He responded to the wordless command by grabbing her hips and pulling her flush against his hardness. His tongue parted her lips with a decisive prod, then shot into her mouth to court hers in a sinuous dance that grew increasingly erotic as they allowed their mutual passion to flare.

Miaka dropped the t-shirt; her freed hands traveled up his neck and delved into his hair, liberating it from its severe combing down. When her fingertips encountered his hat, she removed it and carelessly tossed it aside, much to Dante's amusement. His muffled snickers ended abruptly, though, when her fingers raked through the thick masses of hair behind his ears at the same time she pushed her pelvis into his. A moan was ripped from him as his hands caressed her from her waist to the sides of her breasts and back down again.What he wouldn't give to turn back time to the night before...

As his body hardened at the thought, he struggled for restraint."Miaka... sweetheart… we gotta stop!"

Even as he uttered the protest, his need of her throbbed in his voice and his hands continued their stroking. Miaka smiled against his lips.

"What if I don't want to?" She teased.

He sucked in a tortured breath as she delicately nibbled on his sensitive upper lip. "Then I'll have t'arrest ya for tryin' to corrupt an officer of the law."

"Mm… that means… you'd have to frisk me." She murmured, between short, tender kisses. "And then… you'd have to handcuff me… and give me a ride in the back seat of your car. I think… I could deal… with that…quite well!"

"Dammit, woman! You're killin' me here!" Half groaning, half laughing, Dante tried to pull away from her. In retaliation, Miaka caught his lower lip between her teeth and bit down on it before releasing him.

A deep, sultry growl rose from his throat. "Little minx! What happened to your Japanese propriety?"

She grinned. "Tossed it out, along with my Japanese common sense."

Dante gave a breathless laugh, and then reflexively ran his tongue over his lip, testing to see if she had drawn blood. Seeing that she was following the movement, he couldn't resist doing it again, but more slowly and seductively.

Miaka's lips parted. She reached up to touch his mouth, and moaned softly when his tongue emerged and playfully tickled her fingertips. "Onegai, Dante...please…just one more before I have to go back?" She begged, seducing him with her eyes while shamelessly offering him her lips.

His reply was to pull her back into his arms and capture her mouth in a kiss that would have ended up in the bedroom if there had been one nearby.

_________________________________________________________________ _______

A few blissful, passion-filled moments ticked by in which they were completely lost to the real world, but it intruded once again in the form of a discreet whistle and soft giggling. They quickly broke apart, both of them blushing like naughty children as the last of the lunchtime diners passing by the garden grinned broadly at them or gave the 'thumbs up' sign.

Though she was thoroughly embarrassed, Miaka giggled.

"Just look at what you're doin' to my reputation!" Dante complained in mock outrage. "How bad does it look for an officer of the law to be engagin' in public personal relations while on duty?"

"You can always tell them I coerced you." His partner in crime retorted laughingly. She bent to pick up the discarded t-shirt, straightened, and went on tip-toe to tenderly smooth the thick swatch of bangs that had fallen in front of Dante's shining eyes. "I really should get back to work too. Chef McMasters is probably looking for me. " She wrinkled her nose. "I swear he watches the clock every break I take- "

Her words ended on a surprised squeak as Dante suddenly grasped her by the shoulders.

"I don't want him watchin' you or askin' you out!" He said, staring deeply into her eyes. "I know you can deal with it now, but I want you to swear that you'll call on me if he gets out of control! Swear it, or I 'm not lettin' you back in there!"

The fierceness in his words and his aggressively protective demeanor brought fresh tears to Miaka's eyes. For a moment she could only stare at Dante in silence, feeling completely unworthy of the devotion that had spanned more than one lifetime.

His expression and grasp gentled. "Miaka?"

"I swear." She answered, and sealed the promise with one last, lingering kiss. Her tongue darted out to trace his parted lips and then searched out the sweetness of his until she felt her control slipping; at that point, she hastily ended the contact and took off running towards the restaurant.

"Unfair!" He yelled after her. "Get yourself back here, ya little tease!"

One glance back at his hungry expression told her it was best not to obey the command. "Sorry! I'll have to make it up to you later!"

"Damn right you will!"

Her laughter floated back to him, and the happiness it contained filled Dante with giddy anticipation. It also succeeded in easing his misgivings about not coming clean with her about the investigation…at least, for the moment.

He watched Miaka until she reached the door, and then grinned from ear to ear as she turned to blow him a kiss just before disappearing into the darkness of the restaurant. Only after she was out of sight did Dante think about recovering his headpiece. He turned his head to begin a search, and then gave a start as it appeared right under his nose.

"Thanks," he said automatically, taking the hat from the wrinkled, liver-spotted hand that held it.

"You really need to get serious about courting that girl," an elderly female voice advised him, "or she's going to end up with the wrong man."

Dante glanced down and found himself meeting the gaze of an elegantly dressed, well -groomed old woman with the face of a basset hound. Her gray hair was drawn into a top knot, emphasizing her drooping jowls, and he could see that she was also extremely short, given that her beady eyes were on a level with his elbow as she peered up at him.

"Are you a friend of Miss Yuuki?" He asked, while barely repressing a shudder. Can't believe that face is for real. Hasn't she heard of plastic surgery?

"That's one way of putting it." The woman gave a dry chuckle. "The relationship Miaka and I have goes way back. Speaking as someone who knows her very well, it's easy to see that she's quite taken with you."

At hearing this, Dante smiled. Maybe the crone wasn't so bad looking after all. "Really?"

"I never say things I don't mean!" The old lady admonished him sternly. "You will be the one to make her happy again, but only if you don't let past hurts, heartaches and self doubts get in your way."

Dante stared at her. "Beg pardon, ma'am, but you're acting like you know me. Have I made your acquaintance before?"

"Not in this life!" The aged face crinkled with humor at his bewildered expression. "But, never mind. I can see it's too soon for that conversation. The process of enlightenment is a complicated one and cannot be rushed." She patted his arm in a reassuring, grandmotherly manner. "You just need a bit more time. At least I can rest easier knowing that you've been reunited and are once again watching over her."

What the hell is this weirdo talkin' about? Did she know we had a fight? Dante thought. He could feel his temper rise, but held it in check. Experience as a beat cop had taught him that aged women loved nothing better than to ramble on about the past to anyone who would take the time to pay attention. She was probably a bit wacky in the head due to her advanced age, so what would it hurt to humor her?

"You must keep her safe at all costs," his companion was saying softly. "She's very important to me, and to countless others."

Finally, something that made sense. She probably thought of Miaka as family and was concerned about her living alone in a foreign city. It was understandable that she'd have that reaction, and being law enforcement, he'd naturally be the one she'd turn to for help in such matters.

"I'll protect her." He assured her with confidence. "Nothing is going to happen to Miaka while I'm around."

"I have no doubts about that." The old woman said approvingly, while giving him an assessing look. "I must say it's pleasing to me to find you've got manners. You've even learned to control your temper and that foul mouth of yours."

Dante gave another start, and then a deep frown creased his brow. "How do you know about my foul mouth?" He folded his arms over his chest. "Come on, do we have a mutual friend or somethin'?"

"You could say that." The old lady smirked.

Dante pinned her with his most intimating glare. "Okay Grandma, the joke's over. I think it's time you answered some questions... like just who the hell are you?"

"Now that's the Flame Boy I know!" She shot back, cackling at his expression. "This is not a joke. I know what I know, Dante Tager, but how I happen to know is none of your concern…yet!"

Leaving the cryptic words hanging in the air, the old woman turned and glided away as if she were walking on air. Dante stared after her as the ends of the shawl she wore seemed to ripple in a non-existent breeze, fluttering about her form like long, pink streamers.

He blinked. Suddenly, the shadowed silhouette of a tiny and squat little woman seated on a cloud flashed into his brain, then disappeared as quickly as it had appeared, leaving him oddly shaken. He was strongly tempted to follow the old woman and demand some answers, but something told him it would be a waste of time to do so. If she wouldn't even give him her name, it was certain she wouldn't satisfy his curiosity about the strong sense of déjà vu he had just experienced.

She called me Flame Boy! He thought angrily. I feel like I know her, and yet I got no fucking idea why or where she came from! It's like somethin's been taken away from me and I can't get it back!

A siren wailed in the distance, jolting him back to reality. As badly as he wanted an explanation for the odd feelings he was experiencing, it didn't change the fact that in the present he had responsibilities and a job to carry out. Wrestling with his personal problems would have to wait until he was off duty.

With that reminder, Dante turned and strode away in the opposite direction from the one his tiny tormentor had taken, taking comfort in the thought that he'd tell Miaka about the whole incident when they got together. He had a feeling she might understand the weird stuff he'd been experiencing lately. And if Miaka did know who Grandma was, maybe he'd be able to get a reasonable explanation for the old lady's strange behavior.

_________________________________________________________________ _______Taka Sukinami would be the first to admit that he did not know everything there was to know about life. Time and time again events served to remind him that there were things in the world that he would never be able to figure out or control. That was one of the main reasons he took comfort in the fact that in a world of uncertainty, there was one thing he did know from top to bottom- his job.

He had spent countless hours learning the ins and outs the dos and don'ts. He knew how to woo a potential client, and how to make them feel so special that they thought they had gained a new best friend or better yet, an addition to their family. He knew how to soothe an irate client with compliments and promises of tickets to the latest sports event or theatrical production. On top of that, he knew everything about the inner workings of his company and its client base like the back of this hand. Or so he had thought…until now.

He stared at the computer monitor in front of him and once again tried to access next to bottom file that it was displaying. Once again the 'access denied-password not valid' alert message popped onto the screen and he slammed his hand down on his desk, muttering curses under his breath; after an hour of trying to access this new data base, the leash he usually had on his temper had finally started to fray.

In all his time at Thornton Investments, he had never password protected any of his files. What was the point? His job was to woo potential clients then their cases were immediately handed over to someone higher up, so there was really no need for that precaution. When the mysterious file with the unfamiliar name had appeared in his client records, naturally he had tried to access it in the usual way, only to find it was it protected. He had over one hundred files of prospects but he checked them on a daily basis- sometimes several times a day, which gave him sound basis for accessing a file that he had never laid eyes on before. He had been getting handed more and more accounts lately due to his high acquisitions rating, so it was reasonable to think that it was a new client he hadn't yet met…but how would he know if he couldn't get into the stupid thing?

With a sigh of frustration, he leaned back in his chair to collect himself for a moment, and then reached over to press a button on his phone. "Sarah? Would you mind stepping in here please?" A few seconds after his summons, the door opened and his secretary entered with her usual bright smile.

"What can I do for you, Mr. Sukinami?"

"Have you accessed my personal client files lately?"

The smile quickly vanished under his severe look. "N-No sir! I don't ever go into those files on my own unless you gave me permission to do it!"

The genuine distress in her eyes made him regret his curtness. Sarah was an exemplary employee, and he had no real reason to think that she would have broken the rules. "Forgive me, I shouldn't have barked at you like that. It's just that someone has added two files to my client database within the past two days, and for some reason I can't open them to see what they are. If you don't know anything about them, I don't know who else to ask about it."

Sarah frowned, looking thoughtful. "No one's been in here, I would have seen them. I honestly don't know who could've added them, sir. You are the only one who gets an access code to that program. You haven't given me this week's password, so I'd only get into it if you're signed in."

Taka heaved a sigh. "You're right. Again, I really apologize. I've had a bad morning."

"I'd like to help. I could check the logs to see if-"

"Thank you, Sarah, but I can't ask you to take that on-it's my responsibility, and you have a heavy workload already."

"Honestly, I wouldn't mind! I enjoy doing extra jobs for you! Er, I mean..." She blushed, flustered. "Oh, that sounded really bad."

"Only if I took it the wrong way, which I won't." Taka said, grinning. "I appreciate the loyalty, and I'll take you up on the offer of overtime if it comes to that."

She smiled, still blushing. "Thank you. Is there anything else?"

"Actually, there is one more thing I'd like to make a priority; call and set up a one on one meeting for me with Mr. Thornton for Friday. His assistant is a rather formidable woman in running interference for him, and I never can seem to find the right words to get on her good side...maybe you'd have better luck convincing her I'm worth his time."

"Leave it to me!" The blonde said cheerfully. "What reason should I give for requesting the meeting?"

"Tell her that it's a security issue with our bigger accounts and I need to speak with him ASAP." If he was going to get answers, it was best to start at the top. He had established a good rapport with the CEO of Thornton Investments, based on mutual interests and respect. The old man had his fingers in all aspects of the company. If someone had been tampering, he would be the one who knew how to get the answers as to where, when and why. "It's probably best if you do that right away. I know he likes to leave early on Fridays."

"Of course, sir."

When the office door had shut quietly behind his assistant, Taka leaned back in his expensive leather chair and rubbed his eyes wearily. He had a terrible hunch that he would be having to cancel his and Miaka's tentative plans for the weekend and he knew all too well what her reaction would be to the news. She would try to be a trooper, would say it was okay and that she understood, but he would know she was deeply hurt and disappointed by him as surely as if she had voiced the sentiments aloud.

God, how he hated constantly doing this to her…but he also knew there would come a time when they would both be thankful that he had put his job first. If he attained the goals he had set for himself, they could have the kind of wedding and home she deserved, Miaka would have the means to open her own restaurant, their future children would be able to attend the best schools and they would have complete financial security from the beginning of their life together to the end of their days.

I'll make you the happiest bride in the world, my love. I meant it then and I mean it now. Just humor me a little while longer and I promise life will get so much better.

Taka glanced at his watch, and then smiled as inspiration struck him. Miaka was expecting him to call around eleven this evening, but instead he would surprise her and actually show up on her doorstep with flowers and a box of her favorite chocolates. Maybe those things and making love to her would soften the blow as well as ease the ache in his heart over disappointing her once again.

To be continued!

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