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Name: MystMoonstruck aka Cyn | Gender: REDHEAD! | Posts: 5,059 | Roses: 235
Old 08-03-2008 at 12:44 PM
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Raven Corbett

To the girl's compliments about his hosting skills, Raven smiled faintly and responded with a tilt of the head one way then the other, as if he could argue the point but chose not to. Why be disagreeable when he had not been judged so; he hadn't the inclination to be contrary, something he could be guilty of in the wrong sort of company, especially those parties given to promote a new book. This get-together was quite different for him. He studied her as she leaned one elbow on the table, resting her chin in her palm, and he wondered if contemplating him was so heavy a burden that she needed this rest.

"I don't think I have any qualms about predictability, if it isn't myself. In that instance, I want to be very unpredictable." The wink startled a sound from him that was undoubtedly a laugh, and he knew he must be on his guard around her. Didn't he? "Mm...apple pie. It does sound good. A very American choice." She giggled, and he followed with light, throaty laughter muffled slightly by sips of water. It wouldn't do to have her too confident, would it?

"Apple pie," he informed Ziv. "Two~with ice cream." He did not often indulge, but, when he did, he made certain that Ziv made certain that the best was at hand. It would be crumbtop, baked to perfection by his "right-hand man", and imported vanilla ice cream in which flecks of the spice were visible. He actually sighed in anticipation.

Having made her choice, Lilith sat up, a dazzling smile on her cameo face, and he was helpless not to smile back. She was no hanger-on, the type he encountered at his rare appearances. She also was no Anthea Nightshade, predatory and determined to have him. She was his guest, and they were having a most enjoyable time apparently.

"As for questions....how about we start simply. Where do you want to be in twenty years?"

As guarded as Raven Corbett could be, the shock of that simple question shook him enough that the fork he held fell from his hand to clatter on the plate. The next moment, Ziv was there~only to be waved away by a composed Raven. It was more difficult to smile now, but he called upon the poise he needed at press conferences and the like to say, "On the best-seller list of course. Who knows what I shall have gotten myself into by then. Perhaps I shall attempt poetry. That should allow my critics to use up some of the scathing prose they have been saving up all of these years. They have been waiting for me to disappoint them." Very carefully, he picked up the fork and set about finishing his meal. As if to tempt them to move along faster, dessert arrived, ice cream beginning to yield to the warmed pie, pale tendrils trailing down the sides.

"Yes," Raven mused as he allowed his plate to be removed. "Poetry. I shall see what lurks within me~Percy Bysshe Shelley perhaps or... Doctor Seuss?" he quipped, regaining good spirits after his slip. "I simply must explore various styles~whenever I finish with my current, seemingly endless project." Carefully positioning dessert before him, he considered how best to approach his treat, deciding to damn tradition and go for a large-bowled spoon. "Consider this," he said, as he held up the utensil. "Not a crumb lost or ice cream dripped. Am I not brilliant?" The forest-green eyes positively twinkled, and the grin was undeniably impish. "Coffee!" he shouted. "For you, too, fair Lilith? Or perhaps you prefer another beverage." Ready to sample his first neat spoonful, he hesitated. "Where will you be in twenty years' time, m'lady?"

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Name: MystMoonstruck aka Cyn | Gender: REDHEAD! | Posts: 5,059 | Roses: 235
Old 05-13-2009 at 01:23 AM
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OOC: Since Lilith will not be completing this particular scene, I'm going to announce it officially closed so that Raven can invite others to his place. Also, I don't know if this will be accepted, but, should my bad guy show up, replacing Raven, can he commandeer The Rookery while Raven is elsewhere? It certainly would add to his crookedness! BIC:

Raven Corbett

Seated at his favorite desk, Raven stared at the blank sheet of paper, fountain pen poised, ready for the first promising thought. Except, none came, not after a few minutes that stretched into an hour in which he had ransacked his cluttered brain for one promising idea. Had he wished to sketch, he could have done so with surprising ease. Had he wished to spin a fanciful tale set in one of his worlds, he might have been well into the first chapter. Instead, he was trying to turn all of his notes from interviews into an entertaining book about Opera Populaire. What had he been thinking? He was long past the date when he had expected to have the first portion sent off to the publisher for the preliminary work required. He had never failed to complete a project, but that perfect record was in danger now.

Leaning back in the wing chair that seemed to embrace him, the author set down the pen and rested his arms and hands upon the gently curving arms of the chair, closing his eyes and sighing. Increasingly, he longed for his home on the California coast. The true Rookery seemed to call for him. His usually smooth brow furrowed into a scowl as he mentally lectured himself to cease lollygagging and to go about his business! He should be inspired, having had an enjoyable evening with Julietta Antoinette and now being the patron of Amelia Nightwing, a fascinating young woman who had captured his interest from their first moments together. He thought of Lilith Eytinge, who had been the first guest at his home, wondering what had become of her.

My Beatrice, he mused, wondering if he would become like Dante: transfixed with her image, haunted by her through his life. Perhaps it was the mystery attached to her, how she had as quickly vanished from his life as she had appeared to him near the Seine.

Perhaps you should go home, back to your real home. He could continue paying the rent for this place, allowing him to return here with little notice. The scowl had departed somewhere along the way, and he felt quite weary, thinking that perhaps he might need to lie down for a while. Summoning Ziv, he then allowed himself to be helped to his room, waited upon literally hand and foot by his ever-patient aide, wondering if he ever would find anyone else he trusted as thoroughly. Even now, the tall, blonde man said nothing by way of judgment. There would be no talk of resting more or of finding a doctor, with the subsequent, interminable tests that might be required. Now, he wished only to sleep and perhaps dream of home. He was only vaguely aware of the lights being doused and the door closed, leaving him with only the lull of electonic waves from the sound conditioner, a feeble imitation of the sounds of his seaside home.

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Name: MystMoonstruck aka Cyn | Gender: REDHEAD! | Posts: 5,059 | Roses: 235
Old 08-05-2010 at 08:30 AM
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OOC: In Raven's absence, a criminal element~namely Dorian Grayson~has set his sights on "squatting" since he has an acquaintance working at the apartment building. However, he might get that houseboat on the Seine.BIC:

Dorian Grayson

As the cab pulled up in front of the apartment building, Dorian found himself fiercely hoping that Mischa was on duty. Otherwise, he might end up at the houseboat after all. He wasn't sure that they would want to see him toting an unconscious brunette in a flimsy dress though it wouldn't be the first time something like that had happened. Dorian wasn't much for planning too far into the future, and he did not like dealing with the situation in which he found himself. What had possessed him to go exploring, only to become involved with this very strange young woman?

Paying the cabbie and begrudgingly adding a tip~as little as he could get away with, this time he carried his sweetly scented burden in a more traditional way, around to the side door he had been told about, the one for deliveries. After ringing, he listened for the sound of approaching steps, hoping luck was with him, which it was. The door opened, and he was confronted by a very different Mischa than he was used to, one dressed in a surprisingly good-fitting suit instead of Tee and jeans, looking much less twitchy and far better groomed than usual. As usual, he obviously was nearly overwhelmed at seeing Dorian. Adoration. Devotion. Lust. In the long run, all of it was usable. At a very early age, he had learned how to use what nature had given him, just as he was doing now because it was obvious that Mischa was not at all pleased to see him bearing female companionship.

"Look, I didn't ask her to pass out, did I? No! I couldn't just leave her there, could I? Of course not! Besides, I think she might have money, maybe come across with a reward for me rescuing her. I'll split it with you," he swore with as much conviction as was possible for him. That seemed to make a dent though the dark-haired youth remained rather crestfallen, once more assuming his beaten puppy attitude, something Dorian had tried to rid him of for the kid's own good. Act like a beaten puppy, and you were one! He was beginning to believe that maybe attitude couldn't be taught.

Finally, they were inside and quickly ushered to the apartment, a basement-level one that looked like more class than he could handle. If he pulled off using this as a place to stay even occasionally, he was going to have to come up with the wardrobe to convince others that he belonged here. If he could hang in here awhile, he could get money ahead to maybe... Was he really thinking about this~buying a houseboat of his own? In his entire life, Dorian under whatever name he had lived had owned only what he could grab at the last minute unless he had precious time to round up his scavenged items. With a houseboat, couldn't he just float away, see where the current took him? He knew he had a lot to learn about the things before he took such a step.

At last, Mischa was gone, promising to return with a copy of the key and begging Dorian to not swipe anything from the place. For once, the man thought that he could promise not to get light-fingered, not if the price was losing a very plush hideout. Making a stop at the kitchen counter to drop off the sackful of food, Dorian managed to open the refrigerator, thinking that perhaps something had been left behind. To his surprise, he found a quantity of bottled water and snagged one before taking Cara to the couch, where she could stretch out full-length. Seating himself in a nearby chair, he opened the bottle and waited for Sleeping Beauty to wake up, smirking as he remembered that that had taken a kiss, just like with that other girl in those old stories. What was her name? Oh, yeah... Snow White. Well, this one wasn't snow white, but she also wasn't the type he usually ended up with, not that he expected anything to happen. She would wake up, sit up, and... He scowled as he considered how loud she could be. Well, he'd have to ask her to be quiet, wouldn't he, then offer to send her home? Maybe this time she'd get there before keeling over again.

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Old 08-05-2010 at 09:01 AM
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Cara Blaze Andovea

Eyes scrunched up, a toss of a head from side to side it was almost as if she was having a nightmare even in her pasted out state. For the ride in the cab she had been truly out of it but now in a stirring sleep her mind drifted to nightmares, ones she couldn't place and no doubt even remember upon her wakening but as she tossed and turned they seemed to get the better of her.

She knew she had passed out again, the ringing in her head was a sure sign of that and the pain was still there though not as great. Her eyes flickered but didn't open, almost seeming to refuse she tossed again almost landing on the floor this time though it was then she screamed awake with little warning looking around to find herself not where she remembered being last. The panic of the left over nightmare still dancing within her mind as her hand went up to her head the darkness of her mind and closed eyes falling away to be replaced by a lightly yet dimmed room.

Within her mind she thought she heard someone calling, someone speaking her name and as she looked around she thought she saw a shadow moving towards her only to be mistaken her gaze and vision not quite clear yet. She tried to find her feet but the pain from her head wouldn't let her stand her good eye somewhat clouded as it always was when pain lingered.

Blinking a few times she thought she saw someone in a chair watching her but not quite certain.

"Stay away from me." she whispered in laboured breath not knowing that the shadow would do her no harm, save maybe a kiss to calm her down.


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Old 08-05-2010 at 10:39 AM
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Dorian Grayson

About half a bottle later, about the time he was reconsidering that kiss to awaken her, she began showing signs of life, tossing her head and acting distresed, as if having a nightmare. Probably of some beastly handsome fellow pouncing on her, he mused, liking the image but strong enough not to carry it out. She was sitting up now, staring in his direction. He barely caught her words: "Stay away from me." Hadn't they established that earlier?

"Over here," he prompted, lifting the cobalt blue bottle in a sort of salute. "I'd call this being away from you. Of course, I could have left you on the kitchen floor you know, or even just put you on the table again. So, I thought of this place~much better than the houseboat. You'd've probably gotten seasick," he was certain, thinking that she certainly didn't have much stamina for a dancer, if that's what she really was. "Need some water?" he offered, once more holding up the bottle. "Plenty in the refrigerator." At that, he was up, whether she wanted it or not, remembering that he had better get his kitchen gleanings put away. For now, that was simply a matter of shoving the sack in. He'd sort it out later. It took some poking around before he found a glass, figuring that she didn't look like the swig-out-of-the-bottle type. He even remembered to find some coasters, wondering if he shouldn't rethink this being civilized part. Returning, he set down the coasters, still-capped bottle and glass on the decorative little table then retreated to his nearby seat. His arms resting along the arms of the chair, bottle firmly gripped in hand, he crossed his stretched-out legs at the ankles, getting as comfortable as possible as he tried to get a feel of his new environment.

"You know," he began, "I was wondering if I was going to have to be Prince Charming. Isn't that the guy who kisses the princess awake? Obviously, I'm not very suited for that~the prince part. I'm nobody's Prince Charming."

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Name: Natalia | Gender: Female | Posts: 2,742 | Roses: 50
Old 08-05-2010 at 11:03 AM
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Cara Blaze Andovea

She was passing out more and more, that part was clear but the reason of why couldn't just be her head... then yet again it could be. She knew she had to live with the effects of that night long ago for the rest of her life but no one seemed to believe her when she told them the course and maybe just maybe it was about time she looked into it again.

As her slight started to clear Cara found herself on the floor of a house she knew wasn't hers and couldn't be the houseboat that Dorian had been talking about which made her wonder just where she was.

"Over here," his voice came after he whispered warning making her eyes come up. "I'd call this being away from you. Of course, I could have left you on the kitchen floor you know, or even just put you on the table again. So, I thought of this place~much better than the houseboat. You'd've probably gotten seasick,"

A sad and angry look came about her face; she was getting so tired of his teasing it wasn't funny anymore. Anyone else may have been concerned wondering even why she was the way she was but no, this guy just wanted to make a joke out of it.

"Need some water?"

She only sighed as she pulled herself up and back onto the sofa her eyes now totally falling on him seeing a bottle of water in his hand knowing that it would do no good but saying nothing.

"Plenty in the refrigerator."

She only sat there breathing deeply before he finally set a bottle before her along with a glass to then return to his seat which made her grateful for that at least.

"You know," he started as she thought twice about taking the water. "I was wondering if I was going to have to be Prince Charming. Isn't that the guy who kisses the princess awake? Obviously, I'm not very suited for that~the prince part. I'm nobody's Prince Charming."

"And I'm no once princess or my husband’s angel and he is no prince either. You said I didn't know how to wrap a man around my little finger it seems I'm doing alright with you. You're already willing to break your promise or is that only because if I was asleep I wouldn't know about it?"

HIs teasing ways had gotten under her skin and it was now time she thought about pointing out some of his faults like he had so kindly done to her.

"Maybe you'd be more charming if you weren't always trying to get under someone's skin then your manner may just fit your looks."


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Name: MystMoonstruck aka Cyn | Gender: REDHEAD! | Posts: 5,059 | Roses: 235
Old 08-08-2010 at 11:18 AM
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Dorian Grayson

Dorian was fully aware that he was pressing all of the right buttons~from his point of view at least. He was keeping her peeved and on the edge of angry at him, and she needed to be riled up. Maybe keeping her blood pressure up would keep her from passing out again.

"And I'm no once princess or my husband’s angel and he is no prince either," she assured him, sounding rather vehement actually in her prim, ladylike way. "You said I didn't know how to wrap a man around my little finger. It seems I'm doing alright with you. You're already willing to break your promise or is that only because if I was asleep I wouldn't know about it?"

"Kissing you mean? I swear I never came near those lips while you were out. Did I think about it? Only when you didn't wake up. You wrap me around your finger? I don't think so, lady. Maybe I'm more decent than I'm given credit for. Maybe I have ulterior motives. Bet you didn't think I'd have that in my vocabulary." His throaty laughter was quiet, controlled, and he leaned back into the chair. "What was it I promised?" he wondered, glancing up at the ceiling before turning his attention to her again. "I guess you'll have to remind me."

"Maybe you'd be more charming if you weren't always trying to get under someone's skin then your manner may just fit your looks."

"Manners? I got no manners, lady." The statement had a slurred sound, the streets showing through, hinting at his rugged past. "I can be charming when I know it's going to get me someplace. Charming won't work with you," he was certain. "It doesn't get the fire going, Cara. Does your hubby get the fire going? Or, maybe he's just serviceable. To serve and protect. Cops in the States have it on their cars." A harsh bark of a laugh escaped, shaking his body, his expression scornful. "He can't be doing that if you go wandering and weeping underneath the building, running into a strange man you let kiss you, passing out, getting yourself hauled off to who knows where. It's not like I couldn't have taken you anywhere I wanted to, right? It could be I'm salvageable. I've never killed anybody~yet. Knifed a few. Beat up more than a few. All self-defense. OK. So, maybe I've done my share of muggings." He shrugged, sitting up then leaning forward as if to get up from his seat but not doing that. He was looking at her levelly now, no expression on his handsome face. "The water: It's safe. Haven't even uncapped it. See for yourself. The seal's not broken. I knew you'd suspect me. I didn't even know we were going to end up here. I figured the houseboat wasn't going to do, and you keeled over before you told me where you live~not that you were going to. If you want to go, I'll go hail a cab for you, then you're on your own."

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Old 08-17-2010 at 03:52 PM
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Cara Blaze Andovea

Prince Charming, Dorian certainly wasn’t that and like she had said, she was no princess. Her prince, her husband was anything but what was called charming, he was half demon and had a temper he had attacked her and didn't trust her and now... now he had left her how could that even be thought as charming? Still, she'd rather Mark and Dementis over Dorian any day.

The way he seemed to push her was beyond anything she could even begin to fathom, was he like this simply by nature or did he just choose to push her buttons? He had said something about her not knowing much about men and she shot that back in his face, along with a few other things, however, this didn't seem to catch him on edge. Once again he simply seemed to sit back and smile, his teasing ways coming back making one thing perfectly clear... whether he was born big headed or not, it was part of him.

"Kissing you mean? I swear I never came near those lips while you were out. Did I think about it? Only when you didn't wake up. You wrap me around your finger? I don't think so, lady. Maybe I'm more decent than I'm given credit for. Maybe I have ulterior motives. Bet you didn't think I'd have that in my vocabulary."

Cara gave him a sideways look, one of question and scoff.

"Which?" she asked her temper somewhat pushed beyond braking point at this stage. "Ulterior or vocabulary? Although somehow I think I'd bet money on the ulterior motives over the credit and stand a good chance of winning"

Even with saying this he only laughed making her once again question his so called 'credit' she started to wonder about if he had kissed her again while she was out of it, for after all he had somewhat forced himself upon her, he had said he had thought about it and now...

"What was it I promised? I guess you'll have to remind me."

A scornful look painted itself on her face and her tongue suddenly ran away with her though someone, she kept herself in check, no easy feat. She had been brought up with the old saying 'if you don't have anything nice to say...' still what she had said wasn't even half of what she wished she could say. She wanted to slap him, wanted to point out he wasn't the charming man he seemed to think that he was and his teasing... it was only going towards her wanting to give him a pair of black eyes.

"Manners? I got no manners, lady."

"You don't say" Cara couldn't help but mumble under her breath and out loud and where had this 'lady' thing come from?

"I can be charming when I know it's going to get me someplace. Charming won't work with you,"

I wonder how he came up with that. The thought flashing through Cara's mind. ...I wonder what his I.Q is

"It doesn't get the fire going, Cara. Does your hubby get the fire going? Or, maybe he's just serviceable. To serve and protect. Cops in the States have it on their cars."

"Fire?" She breathed to herself, oh there was a fire alright, it was within her eyes if only he looked and he was adding to it.

"He can't be doing that if you go wandering and weeping underneath the building, running into a strange man you let kiss you, passing out, getting yourself hauled off to who knows where. It's not like I couldn't have taken you anywhere I wanted to, right? It could be I'm salvageable. I've never killed anybody~yet. Knifed a few. Beat up more than a few. All self-defense. OK. So, maybe I've done my share of muggings."

She knew he went on but by this time she didn't care, b y now she had found her feet, locked her knees and flew over to him.

"And I'd be glade if one of them had knifed you in return. Self-defence?" She found herself questioning that. "As for letting you kiss me, I never did that and as for hauled around to god knows where the man that kidnapped me had more honour in him then you. The guy who marked me forever..."

Her hand went to her shoulder then, the burnt heart lying just under her fingertips.

"You think I have no fire except when you fuel it, we'll let me tell you this. MY husband tried to kill me more than once. I had to make a deal with the devil to save a friends life. My child is now growing to grow up without her father. I'm alone in the world and you’re telling me I have no fire. Maybe I have digger one then you think and as for the water you can take it and choke on it for all I care."


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Name: MystMoonstruck aka Cyn | Gender: REDHEAD! | Posts: 5,059 | Roses: 235
Old 08-27-2010 at 05:12 AM
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OOC: I have lost this post a number of times now and hope that this time I'll be able to finish it. ***knock on wood*** BIC:

Dorian Grayson

An excellent judge of body language, Dorian was prepared for Cara's near-leap across the space that separated them, and he stayed ready to capture hands that might claw if she was feeling particularly venomous but supposed a slap might be her choice. Thus, he was mildly surprised that the blazing-eyed female merely came just so close before spewing angry words once more.

"And I'd be glad if one of them had knifed you in return," she informed him, bringing a tight smile to his face as he relished her hatred of him. It was a more-potent emotion than even lust and could grow in such interesting ways. "Self-defence?" Obviously, she questioned his veracity. Could he blame her? "As for letting you kiss me, I never did that," a statement that caused the pale eyes to widen, as he had taken her actions as assent at several moments in their time together. "... and as for hauled around to god knows where, the man that kidnapped me had more honour in him than you. The guy who marked me forever..." At that, she motioned to her shoulder, to a mark he had noticed before, discussion of which might have come up at some point during their wild lovemaking~if things had gone as he would have preferred. But, he held his tongue as she continued, obviously having a great deal to say~as usual. "You think I have no fire except when you fuel it. Well let me tell you this. MY husband tried to kill me more than once. I had to make a deal with the devil to save a friend's life. My child is now going to grow up without her father. I'm alone in the world and you’re telling me I have no fire. Maybe I have bigger one than you think, and as for the water you can take it and choke on it for all I care."

Dorian waited to a count of three to make sure there was no more to come then unleashed his response to the preceding confession: deep, throaty laughter that built to an explosion, at which he threw his head back and unleashed it. The more he thought of her devils and her drama, the more it fueled his laughter till tears fell from his eyes and his ribs ached. When he at last could speak again, he brokenly managed to say, "Cara~Cara the catastrophe~Cara queen of drama..." Wiping away the tears with the side of his free hand, having somehow managed to retain his hold on the bottle of water, which he decided to set down at last. "Devil, eh? Did you spit in his face or swoon at his feet? Maybe both, eh?" He paused for a deep breath. "You certainly have provided an evening's entertainment~not in the way I had hoped, but entertainment all the same. You gave me a workout, carrying you around. I suppose you would have been been content to drown in your sorrow beneath the opera house had I not come along. Should I have left you to immerse yourself in tears? Perhaps the lake would have risen to engulf you in your misery." Then, shifting to slightly more serious mode, his eyes narrowed, and he challenged, "Your husband isn't here to stir the fires, remember? But, I am."

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Old 08-29-2010 at 09:19 AM
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Cara Blaze Andovea

He turned her into something she never thought she'd be, turned her away from the innocent and sweet child that so many saw her as and into a monster that maybe able to match Dementis. His laughter was what got to her the most. Her words seeming to be nothing more than that, words. If only he knew what she had gone throw to get this far... yet again knowing Dorian he'd still laugh.

"Cara~Cara the catastrophe~Cara queen of drama..."

She stepped back as he whipped away the tears that had fallen from his hard laughter that would have put the joker to shame. A sad look made itself at home on Cara's face, all the pain she had gone through, all the fighting she had done... it was just a joke to him.

"Devil, eh? Did you spit in his face or swoon at his feet? Maybe both, eh?"

She said nothing, now knowing that whatever she said he would use against her and she had, had enough of that.

"You certainly have provided an evening's entertainment~not in the way I had hoped, but entertainment all the same. You gave me a workout, carrying you around. I suppose you would have been been content to drown in your sorrow beneath the opera house had I not come along. Should I have left you to immerse yourself in tears? Perhaps the lake would have risen to engulf you in your misery."

Her dark brown eyes came up and from under long lashes glanced at him, his laughter now seeming forgotten and it struck her with a sudden fear.

"Your husband isn't here to stir the fires, remember? But, I am."

"What do you mean?"

His narrowed eyes made her worry, she had seen those eyes before though Dorian's didn't hold the same fire and danger though there was some in them. Dementis had told her, maybe not in so many words, that she'd never be rid of him and now... now maybe Dorian was the same.

He'd be that shadow that lingered in the night, the one to wake her from a deep sleep.

"Dorian why are you saying that? I thought you said I didn't mean anything to you, that I was on my own... why do you seem to be changing your mind? Besides I've already told you the fire I have for my husband is passion and..."

She stopped there fearful to go on.


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