First Comes By Karisma Chapter Four Romance, Alt. Rating: PG-13 Karisma456@hotmail.com Standard Disclaimers Apply June 2001 How hard is it to say no? Apparently, Serena Price had a severe issue with the differences in yes and no because here it was, three days later, and she was getting ready for a date, however platonic, with Darien. Greg had been slightly miffed when she told him, but after stressing that it was more of a business dinner than anything else, he had given him stamp of approval easily. Too easily. And that perverted line of reasoning brought another spiel of undeserved anger directed toward Greg. She should be ecstatic that she managed to snag a guy who not only trusted her, but wasn't possessive or jealous. Instead, she twisted the entire situation around to where she wanted Greg to hold a bit of resentfulness toward Darien. Women, she realized with a disgusted sigh, were impossible to please. Tugging her dress into place, she smoothed over the black material with uneasiness, wondering what the night would hold with an inexplicable shiver of anticipation and hesitance. Sighing heavily at her fidgeting hands, she poured herself a glass of wine, closing her eyes when the puce liquid served to calm her frazzled nerves. When Darien knocked on her door, exactly on time, she blew out her breath and swung it open, prepared to make this night as nonphysical as possible. What she did not expect, however, was how tempting the very opposite of that promise would be at the sight of Darien holding flowers and wearing a smile that could only be described as disarmingly charismatic. Groaning inwardly, she put the roses in water and grabbed her purse, walking out of the door without so much as stopping for Darien. "Okay, so next time no flowers. Got it." His voice was teasing as he caught up her in the lobby of her building. "First of all, you shouldn't bring an engaged woman flowers." She halted and whipped around, the slit of her long dress swinging. Counting off her fingers, she continued, "Secondly, I work for you-this could be counted as sexual harassment." She ignored his dubious look and barged on. "And I thought this was "just dinner"!" His dark brows shot up, amused at her flushed face. "You got all that from flowers?" She let out an aggravated groan and jabbed the elevator button in frustration. Stepping inside, she folded her arms over her chest and tapped her foot impatiently. After a second, she spoke, cutting the silence. "Maybe we shouldn't do this." He sighed heavily. "I promise not to jump you-or bite you for that matter-if you'll just relax and enjoy yourself, all right?" Serena allowed herself to sneak a look at him, hating the way his suit fit him wonderfully. Hating the way his hair managed to look rumpled and perfect all at the same time. Hating herself for even noticing. By the time they had reached his car, Serena had ordered herself to think of Greg fastidiously, scrupulously avoiding any sort of contact that would allow the air to turn romantic. "Where are we going?" "Where you do *want* to go?" She rolled her eyes at his nebulous answer and opted to stare out the window in silence. After a few minutes, Darien parked the car and Serena looked up in surprise. In front of them was a deserted theme park, the bright lights were absent, causing the dark air to look remote and empty. After a moment of gawking, she slowly turned to the nonchalant man next to her and surveyed his formal clothing with narrowed eyes. Then, very deliberately and slowly, she spoke, "You're insane." He smiled blithely, placing his hand in the small of her back to guide her forward. Her suspicion increased tenfold when they stood in front of a small, precariously balanced cable car. She shook her head, turning her heel immediately. "Uh-uh. No way." He laughed, catching her elbow and swinging her back to him. "Relax," he whispered in her ear before gently shoving her into the car. After he entered, Darien shut the door firmly behind him. Almost immediately the car when up and Serena's stomach began to turn in an unfamiliar fashion. When Darien pressed down on two taplights and saw her stricken expression, it was all he could do to not laugh. Her blue eyes were wide and luminous in the dim light, darting around as if she expected something to strike her at any moment. "Didn't I tell you to relax?" He became the target of her pinning gaze. "You'll excuse me if I'm not accustomed to being stranded with strange men for dinner," she said dryly, her back arched and stiff. It was then that she saw the table between them was artfully designed, making the most of the minimal space. Plates with a warm cuisine were on the red, checkered cloth and the silver utensils gleamed in the soft light. A small vase with two barely blooming roses was set off the side of the table. Serena took in the atmosphere with a wry smile, so much for platonic. Sighing inwardly, she picked up her fork and waited for Darien to do the same. They began to eat in silence, occasionally looking out into the beautiful skyline to drink in the cool breeze and twinkling city lights below. She watched Darien above the rim of her wine glass with a critical eye, discerning the motives of his actions. "And what have I done to deserve such evil looks?" He asked, his dark eyes lowered casually at the action of spearing a vegetable on his plate. He had opened it up. Now the topic was fair game. "I thought you said it was just dinner?" She accused. He made a show of looking at his plate, then hers. "And here we are at dinner," he deadpanned, his voice slow and deliberate. She gave him a disgusted groan and waved an arm around at their confined, intimate surroundings. "*This* does not constitute as 'just dinner'!" He cocked his head to the side and the curiosity was evident in his tone when he spoke again, "Then what *does* it constitute as?" She shot him an icy glare for making her say the words out loud. "It's-it's romantic and-and..." She flushed beautifully as she trailed off, staring down hard at her linguini as if it held the answers to all her problems. "And?" He prodded, grinning broadly at the pink hue her cheeks had taken on. She jerked her head up at his teasing voice and her blushing diminished to an angry abhorrence. "And you're enjoying every bit of this!" She threw her napkin down and realized that there was no way she could actually storm out in irritation considering they were quite high off the ground. Darien saw her dilemma and chuckled in amusement. Refilling her glass, he watched her stare out in the skyline, her face stormy. The dim light glinted off her smooth skin and golden hair, making her glow in an ethereal way. "So what made you choose interior design?" She turned her head to look at him, disapproval etched into her features as she took a sip of her wine. "I liked it," she said shortly. He sighed at her vague answer, but his eyebrows soon shot up at her next comment. "What made you go into neurology?" The surprise came from her tone when she said the words, bitterness and sarcasm seeped from them. "It is just me or all neurologists?" He joked, knowing the answer perfectly well. "Just one." He injected the perfect mixture of curiosity in his voice. "Who?" She looked at him contemptuously before answering snidely, "For a man who supposedly did a background check on me, you certainly don't know much." "I'll give my private investigator a good scolding," he promised. "Now who?" "That's more of a second date question, don't you think?" She prevaricated, tracing the rim of her glass with one long finger. "Agreed." He grinned charmingly. "When would you like to?" "To what?" She blinked, confused. "To have our second date," he said, as if the answer was obvious. Laughing, she shook her head, her pragmatic mind speaking quickly, "I don't think that's a good idea." He nodded, giving up all too easily. "Fair enough." Serena narrowed her eyes at him, suspicious of his agreeable manner. He brought out dessert and she accepted it with a smile, her mistrust melting away with the promise of chocolate. "So," she said easily, cutting through the layers of cake, "is this date package number one, or was I so great I got to skip directly to six?" "What?" Darien looked up from his coffee, his dark brows furrowed. She smiled. "It's okay. You can tell me." "I pride myself on not using recycled dates-it's a matter of originality. Each women deserves a special type of evening accustomed to her." He was so serious and offended, Serena didn't know whether to laugh or apologize. She settled for something in between. "So I'm the type of woman that screams 'needs night alone fifty feet about the ground'?" "You know, I really don't see what your problem is with all this," he looked around the car as if the problem would suddenly pop out at him. "Darien," she started slowly, her tone gentle. "This is the kind of date you take your girlfriend or fiancé. It isn't the kind of evening an employee expects to have with her boss." His next words made her freeze. "What about the kind of date a husband takes his wife?" Her eyes lifted from her dessert with painstaking slowness. When she met his, the sobriety in the cobalt depths shocked her. She swallowed and opted to remain silent. But she needn't have worried about the silence. Darien took care of that. "But if you'd like to pretend you're with your fiancé, I'm sure you can just imagine it is Wednesday and we're in a house eating." He spat caustically, a bitter smile twisting his lips to mock her. She chose not to reply directly to the comment. Pursing her lips, she spoke calmly, "I'd like to go home now, Darien." He sighed heavily and ran a hand through his hair. Apologetic, he implored her, "I'm sorry, Serena. That was in incredibly bad taste." She nodded stiffly, acknowledging his contrite demeanor, but not offering any of the easy camaraderie she had given so freely before. Desperate for the light repartee rather than the chilling silence, he smoothly covered a previously mentioned topic. "I went into neurology because it's the most difficult specialty." He held up his glass, toasting her. "And I'm always up for a challenge." The hidden meaning was clear and Serena couldn't even bring herself to castigate him for it. Instead she rolled her eyes and corrected him. "Pediatric surgery." "Excuse me?" "Pediatric surgery is the most difficult specialty," she repeated, finishing off the light cake without so much as batting an eye. He surveyed her with a knowing look and smiled at the new topic she had unknowingly breached. "Did you want to ever be a doctor?" He asked innocently. Her hand stilled but when she spoke, the words were unequivocal, "No." "Not even when you were a child?" He prodded, scrupulously avoiding looking at her too closely to clam up her responses. "When I was a child, I did." Serena conceded, fastidiously staring at a spot near his ear. "What changed your mind?" She smirked. "Hospitals smell." He laughed lightly. "That's all?" He teased, "You could have put a clothesline clip on your nose." Giggling, she rolled her eyes. "I'm sure my patients would *love* that." Her laughter stilled. "I also realized it just wasn't what I wanted to do. My father helped me realize that." She blanched, comprehending her faux paus. "I mean," she amended bitingly, "Dr. Kenneth Johnson helped me realize that." He pretended to furrow his brow in confusion. "How?" "He's a neurologist too. An arrogant, overbearing, pretentious one at that." She lifted her glass in a mock salute to him. "You're not as bad-thank God." He sensed from her guarded expression that was as much as he was going to get out of her for tonight. Accepting that for now, he changed the topic smoothly and soon the cable car landed gently and they exited the red car, stretching slightly in the dark air. When they reached her apartment door, Serena smiled brightly at him. "Well, Darien. You shouldn't have wasted such a date on me, any other girl would be inviting you in." Smiling, he bent his head to look down at her glowing face. Before she could slip insider her apartment he kissed her softly. The short, chaste kiss held more damage than their ardent ones in his home because Serena saw it coming a mile away. And she did nothing to stop it. When he pulled it away, Darien smiled softly at her disheveled appearance, "I wouldn't call it a waste," he whispered softly before turning down the long corridor. **** "I am the worst person alive!" Serena groaned aloud into her pillow later than night, tossing for the millionth time in that hour. This was extremely unusual for her, especially considering her nightly routine. Despite anything life threw at her, she was usually asleep within less than thirty minutes of crawling into bed. Then again, life had never thrown Darien Mathison at her. And she was at a loss on what to do next. She was attracted to him, that much was obvious. But what to do about it was quite the conundrum. Then yet again, it wasn't. All she had to do with distance herself from him and the attraction would fade with time. Out of sight, out of mind. With those reassuring thoughts, Serena soon drifted off into a dreamless sleep, her impeccably kept room quiet as the silvery rays of moonlight slivered in. **** Darien slapped the chart closed when a satisfied clunk, rubbing the tense muscles in the back of his neck. Slipping the chart back into the slot, he smiled at his receptionist. She gave him a brief grin in return and tucking her red curls behind her ears, she leaned over her systematic desk to hand Darien a slip of paper. "This man came in earlier while you were doing your rounds. He's in the waiting room." Darien scanned the yellow paper, frowning in puzzlement. He strode over to the waiting room and narrowed his eyes when he saw a sal and pepper haired man reading a medical journal. Crossing his arms over his blue scrubs, he silently waited for the older man to speak. Smiling a charming grin that lit up his weathered face, he crinkled blue eyes that were undeniably familiar. "Hello, doctor." He held out an agile hand and spoke in a voice that belied his years. "I was hoping I could have a bit of your time." Darien silently conceded, taking the surprisingly firm hand in his own. Giving a brief nod, he led him to his office, closing the door quietly behind them. **** A few shocking hours later, he ran two agitated hands through his disheveled hair, wondering where exactly the future would take him next. Sighing, he closed his weary eyes and rolled his neck back in his chair, praying for answers. A knock interrupted his conference with God. "Dr. Mathison?" Molly peeked her head through, an apologetic smile on her motherly face. "This was just faxed over." She entered and dropped two pieces of paper on his desk before shutting the door behind her, her heels clicking rhythmically. Reaching over to grab the papers, Darien scanned them with a shrewd eye. What he read nearly made him throw his cold coffee against the gleaming white wall. In front of him, typed with a most professional air, was an apologetic letter stating Price and Co. would not be able to continue decorating Dr. Mathison's home. They would be happy to refer to other companies and no charge would be asked for the work thus far. In the second letter, the contents were slightly more personal, but Serena's words held the same detached, aloof tone. This one asked if Darien would contact her with the information regarding their divorce proceedings. Darien reread the letters before slamming them down and jerking up the telephone near him. He stalled midway through the digits before shoving the phone back in its cradle and snatching his keys off the table. Less than twenty minutes later he was knocking on her apartment door with enough force to shove it down. He heard her stumble through, knocking over something or another and uttering a few livid words. He then realized it was rather late, but quickly dismissed that thought as he pounded all the more harder on her wooden door. "All right, all ready!" She hollered on the other side of the door, undoing the chain with clumsy fingers. When she opened the door, rays of harsh light flooded her, making her squint. She looked up into his taut face and nearly winced at the controlled anger there. He barely noticed her nightwear as he barreled himself through, allowing her time to shut the door behind him. Clenching the crumpled papers in his hand, he stared at her in silence. She nervously wrapped her thin robe around her tighter, unable to win the staring contest he had started. "What do you think you're doing, Serena?" He finally spoke, his voice deep and calm. "I don't think I can take on such a big responsibility as your house right now, Darien. And-" "Bull." She grew angry. "Look. What does it really matter what my reasons are? I'm not doing it-I quit. Whether I can't handle it or I just got bored is my business. It has nothing to do with you!" He raised one eyebrow before continuing silkily, "I think it has a rather lot to do with me, Serena." She scoffed. "Really? It seems to me our bargain was I keep silent for a month-you fund my business. A month is almost over, Darien. Our bargain is done." He nodded in agreement. "I think you're problem lies elsewhere." She resisted the temptation to snort. Fear was gone, replaced by an urge to settle their unpleasant business and move on. "My problem, huh?" She titled her head caustically, pretending to be raptly attentive. "Perhaps you'd care to enlighten me?" "You're afraid." "Afraid?" He stepped closer. "You're afraid because when I kiss you, you forget all about Lover Boy." His lips curled up, a cross between amusement and disdain. She rolled her eyes and casually distanced herself from him. "His name is Greg. And I'd thank you kindly to call him so." "Would you?" He towered over her smaller frame, a smirk replaced the look of contempt in his cobalt eyes. "Would I what?" Her nervousness returned ten-fold as she instinctively placed a hand protectively at her throat. "Would you thank me?" He grinned lasciviously, a smile that made him look like a boy flirting. She placed a hand on his scrub-clad chest and pushed gently. "I also wouldn't miss the innuendoes." "Ah." He nodded knowingly. "But, then, what's the fun in that?" Glaring at his self-righteous sneer, Serena narrowed her blue eyes in disgust. "You are, without a doubt, the most pompous, haughty-" She was interrupted from her livid tirade with the intoxicating feel of his soft lips tracing expert circles on her neck. "And-ah-" His warm tongue flicked out, draining whatever sense Serena had left her mind. Grabbing a fistful of her tousled hair, Darien crushed her further to him, conforming her yielding body to his. He kissed the corner of her mouth. "This-this is wrong," she whispered weakly, making no move to put up a fight. "No," he corrected huskily before his mouth came down on hers. "This is right."