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Rainey's Song

By: EveHasFallen



Note: This is a really rough version of a story that kind of popped into my head recently, so feel free to leave me feedback or comments. Constructive criticism is always welcome.

The sky was a cold, steel color and an aggressive breeze seemed to want to force light, drizzling rain through Rainey Wilson's jacket. 

"I've been in Seattle for six months; you'd think I'd learn that a sunny morning isn't a daylong guarantee," she muttered to herself.

A freshman Creative Writing major, Rainey was, well, average. Just that morning, half an hour after her alarm clock cut off a very nice dream about warm, dry beaches, she'd stood in front of the tiny, smudged mirror in the women's bathroom on her floor and stared at her reflection. Taking in her green eyes, red-brown hair and the spattering of freckles darkening her full cheeks, she grimaced at herself. 

"No one's ever going to mistake you for a model," she said aloud, absentmindedly running a hand over the slight swell of her belly. 

'You're not fat you're just...voluptuous,' her mother always used to tell her after one depressing shopping trip or another where Rainey had inevitably spent long minutes in the dressing room, ashamed of the way her breasts seemed to overflow tank tops and her thighs—oh God, her thighs—rubbed together beneath skirts she never had the courage to buy. 

"Right, mom," Rainey would reply. "So voluptuous that I've never even been on a date."

The standard, "Boys aren't everything," always came after that so Rainey usually dropped the issue altogether. 

Being fat was who she was; she'd always been fat and, as she neared the end of high school, she decided that she always would be fat.

So, after a depressing morning of deciding what not to wear, Rainey was sprinting her way to work through the rain. It was nice that her university was so close to Seattle's downtown, business district but it was a convenience that also lulled Rainey into a feeling of tranquility—she'd convinced herself that she didn't need a bus pass because the walk was pretty much all downhill. But, by the time she hurried up the steps to the Xavier Building, an old 12-story brick apartment building that had long ago been converted into prime office space, she was soaked and panting for breath.

Rainey worked on the 12th floor as an intern with RhapsodySwept magazine, an up-and-coming travel guide focusing on Northwest retreats. It was a dream job for her, mostly because she'd never expected to find a job related to her English major while she was just a freshman, with barely two years of work on her high school's newspaper to recommend her. But, she'd dropped off a resume a week after moving to Seattle and, to her surprise, the receptionist called her back the next morning to schedule an interview. Two weeks later, she had the job. 

That was almost five months ago, and she could hardly believe how much she'd learned in so short a time; college educated her in the liberal arts while the magazine fed her passion.

She smiled at the philosophical bent of her thoughts as she rushed through the doors of the Xavier Building and headed for the elevator. Punching in the button for the 12th floor, she tried, in vain, to set her hair to rights. Normally wavy and frustratingly thick, the rain had turned it into a mass of auburn ringlets and Rainey was sure she looked like a sopping wet poodle.

The elevator doors swished open and she stepped out, one hand still trying to smooth her hair.

"Rainey," a woman's low, raspy voice called out. "If it's not my favorite intern of all interns."

Rainey turned to see her boss, Lynette Viglio approaching her from the draft table in the corner. Various layouts for the magazine were spread across the smooth, dark surface and Rainey knew she had a long few days of meticulous editing ahead of her.

"Hi, Lyn," she said, smiling cheerfully at the petite woman. With coal black hair cut in a severe bob, elegant silver earrings, milk-pale skin and bright red lips—contrasting a fashionable black pantsuit—Lyn, could have passed for a former haute couture model. 

'Well, if she were six inches taller,' Rainey thought to herself, then grinned when Lyn stopped in front of her and the older woman's head barely reached Rainey's shoulder.

"What're you smiling about," Lyn asked, then raised an eyebrow as she took in Rainey's drenched hair and clothes. "Raining out," she queried, tongue-in-cheek.

"Oh, you know; the usual drizzle," Rainey replied, just as flippantly. "Little bit of thunder and lightning. I thought I saw a couple animals heading in-land two-by-two...so you know, it's not that bad out there."

Lyn chuckled. "Ha! A sense of humor even when you're cold and wet. That's why I hired you. Most certainly wasn't for your... neat appearance."

"Har har," Rainey said, shrugging out of her drenched jacket and lying it over the back of a wooden chair. "So, boss, any new work for me, today?"

"Oh, my dearest dear," Lyn smiled with a feigned evil glint in her eye and crooked a finger for Rainey to follow her to the draft table where stacks of the "rough" magazine awaited editing. "You'll wish you hadn't asked."

Two hours later, Rainey leaned back in her chair—a very uncomfortable metal chair—and tried to ease the dull ache in the base of her back. She hadn't moved from that spot since Lyn had left her to "take care of business," as she put it. Even though the work was sometimes mundane, Rainey couldn't think of anything else she found such satisfaction doing as when she was working on the magazine. It was a good feeling. She hoped she'd be rehired at Rhapsody for the next year of internships, but the contract she'd signed had clearly stated that "renewals are rare and unlikely." 

Since she was nearly done with the first 1/3 of the magazine, having to go slow to make sure she didn't miss any mistakes in the text, she decided to take a 15-minute break.

'Maybe I'll be able to get through the first half of it today,' she thought, standing slowly from her chair, stifling a groan as her muscles let her know exactly what they thought of her treatment of them.

It was mid-groan, as her face contorted just a bit from the unexpected twinge in her back that he emerged from the elevator.

Rainey froze. Time seemed to stop and all she could do was stare. It was always like that, the way her heart seemed to beat double-time and her palms began to sweat a little whenever he was around.

Aidan Murphy. 

She thought his name, her mind caressing each syllable the way she longed to stroke the strong set of his stubbly jaw, his full lips, the strands of his dark hair.

He was a freelancer who did work for the magazine every once in a while and Rainey thanked God for every chance she had to watch him when he came to the building to speak with Lyn or discuss a spread with Jasmine, the head photographer.

Rainey had first seen him during her third week at the magazine. Completely engrossed in a story she was line editing at the time, she hadn't heard him come in. That day, it was his laugh that made her look up, and when she did she watched him casually flirt with Jasmine and the way she, who always seemed a little distant and aloof, smiled up at him with an almost predatory glint in her eye.

'My God, he's beautiful,' Rainey had thought. She'd waited a week to ask about him, hoping Brenda, their plump little receptionist wouldn't decipher the reason for her interest. To Rainey's relief, Brenda had just smiled and spoke about Aidan as if he were her own son. 

He was an Englishman by birth, Rainey found out. He and his single mother moved to the States when he was 11 years old, too young to consider himself a true Englishman, but old enough that he spoke with the same lilting, hypnotic accent of his mother's countrymen.

"Hi, Brenda," Rainey heard him say to the magazine's middle-aged receptionist. "I just want you to know, I haven't given up on trying to steal you away from that lucky husband of yours. But, as it is, I guess I'll just have to see Lyn, if she's in. She knows how to mend a broken heart."

"Oh, you darling," Brenda said, smiling broadly at the handsome man standing before her. "If I'd met you twenty-five years and four kids ago, I might have let you sweet talk me into running away to Vegas. I still might, except I couldn't bear to leave the china I had made for our wedding. Earl, I could give up, but I really do love that china."

Aidan tossed his head back and laughed loudly. The ensuing tingles that ran up and down Rainey's arms snapped her out of her daze-like admiration of the man's beauty. Fighting the urge to shake her head to clear it, she stood for a moment wondering what to do. She'd been planning on heading to the coffee room to have a pop tart or whatever other high-sugar fix she could get at the moment to keep her alert for the last hour of the day, but that plan would take her right past Aidan and she didn't think she could keep from blushing and blathering like an idiot if he favored her with a polite, "Hello," like he usually did when their paths crossed. 

Randomly, she wondered if he even knew her name but quickly pushed the thought aside as being idiotic. Why would he know her name? They'd barely even spoken to each other; whenever he stopped by she was always off in the clouds staring at him like a lovesick high schooler.

She was still standing, rather nervously, in indecision when she heard Brenda tell Aidan that Lyn's phone line was busy but he could take a seat outside of her office and she'd let her know he was waiting. 

Rainey expelled a sigh of relief and waited for him to sit down. Then she took off like a speed-walker toward the break room, making sure to keep her face turned away and her eyes glued to the floor. At least that way, she was less likely to trip over her own feet as she stared at him—something that had happened once before, though she'd blamed it on a new pair of shoes that she wasn't "used to yet." She cringed as she remembered the curious look he'd given her as she stuttered out her excuse.

The dull blue-and-white tiled floor of the break room had never looked so good to her eyes before. Crossing the small room, she skirted its only table and opened the refrigerator. A bottle of apple juice, half of a crusty-looking chocolate cake from Jasmine's birthday a few days before, various Tupperware containers with unknown contents and a cup of yogurt she'd forgotten she had, stared back at her. 

Yogurt in hand, she turned away from the fridge and was about to rifle through the drawers for a spoon when Aidan walked into the room.

He smiled at her and she stared at him. 

"I thought you were waiting for Lyn," she blurted.

"Oh, I still am, but from what I can hear through her door—-which isn't difficult since she's yelling at the moment--she's very unhappy with an advertiser, so I figured it'd be a while." As he spoke, he started opening and closing cabinets.

Rainey couldn't think of a thing to say. The silence, filled only by the snapping open and shut of wooden doors, seemed to last for hours.

"I'm starving," Aidan said, glancing sheepishly at her over his shoulder. "Guess I shouldn't raid your guys' food though, should I?"

Rainey gulped. "Don't...don't you always eat our food whenever you're here?"

He laughed again and shrugged. "I'm a big guy, what can I say? Food and I are friends." He turned back to the cabinets. "Did you guys go through spring cleaning or something? There's usually something good in here." 

As if to refute him totally, he pulled a plastic bag out of the cabinet, it was labeled--to both of their surprise-- 'lima beans.' He grimaced and tossed them back. "I stand corrected."

Rainey couldn't help but laugh. He was like a little kid looking for hidden cookies--a six-foot-tall kid, she corrected. Without giving herself time to think about what to say, she asked, "What are you in the mood for? There's usually some popcorn on top of the fridge and—"

"Nope," he said, "I've got a sweet tooth. Drove my mom crazy when I was growing up. She said she spent almost as much money on getting my cavities filled as she did keeping me fed." He grinned at the memory and Rainey smiled along with him, at ease for the first time since he'd walked off the elevator.

"How do you feel about caramel popcorn?"

He raised an eyebrow, his lips quirking to the left. "I've nothing but warm feelings for caramel popcorn, actually. But, what kind are we talking here? Fiddle Faddle, Cracker Jacks or what?"

"Fiddle Faddle," she replied. "I brought a whole box about a month ago, there should be some in the cabinet over the fridge."

"Now we're talking," he said, excitedly, making Rainey grin wistfully as he rummaged in the spot she'd indicated. "Ah, success." He turned toward her and popped the box open. "It's half-full, wanna share the rest?"

She shook her head. "No, thanks, I've got my yogurt and I'm still not even half way through this edit of the magazine, so—"

"How's that going, anyway?" With a fistful of the sweetened popcorn, he leaned against a row of drawers and regarded her expectantly, his green eyes steady and intent.

Rainey swallowed hard. "H-how's what?"

"The magazine. Interning here? Being in college?" He smiled mischievously at his last question and tossed a large puff of golden-colored popcorn into his mouth. "God, I miss college." He swallowed and brought another handful of to his mouth. "Don't get me wrong, Grad school is nice, too," he said after swallowing, "but college...95% was about the fun, and 5% was an education."

Watching his jaw flex slowly as he chewed, and enjoying the slight, endearing crinkles at the corners of his eyes, Rainey could well imagine him being a walking god to many of the girls he'd gone to school with. She didn't think she could have survived him if he was at her university now and she had to see him on a daily basis.

'Damn it,' she thought to herself as her stomach did a little flip at the thought of constantly seeing Aidan, 'will you just let this one go, Rainey? The man is in the middle of Grad school. And he's definitely not interested in some fat little college freshman. Besides,' she told herself, her fingernail picking at the foil cover on the yogurt that she'd never put down. 'I'm not the type for relationships.'

"Anyone in there?" He was watching her and she blushed, realizing that he'd caught her thinking about him—-right in front of him.

"Oh, um...," she smoothed a hand over her hair anxiously and realized with a wave of mortification that her hair had frizzed out to twice its normal volume. "Uh...the internship is great. Lot's of experience for, you know...stuff. And, college, I mean, that's great, too. I'm making new friends...and, yeah, it's just...you know...great." 

'Great?' She repeated silently to herself in disgust. 'Really, Rainey? Oh God...'

He was watching her again and his lips gave the slightest hint of a twitch; she realized that she couldn't take him laughing at her. With a single purpose in mind, she took a few quick steps forward, determined to find a spoon for her yogurt and leave him to his popcorn before she made an even bigger ass of herself.

It would have worked out fine. She could have grabbed a spoon from the drawer he was leaning next to, muttered a goodbye without meeting his eyes and scuttled away to silently berate herself for the next...oh, three or four weeks. 

It would have been that way...if the drawer hadn't stuck. She pulled that first time and it didn't budge. A panicky sweat coated her palms; she could feel him there, right next to her, the box of caramel popcorn on the counter at his elbow. 

For a long second, she thought about just walking away, but that made no sense, she'd already embarrassed herself once today—-besides, she needed a spoon, damn it.

"Uh...do you need help," he asked. His voice sounded choked, like he was holding back his mirth.

Rainey gritted her teeth, pulled harder and grunted a noise she hoped he would interpret as an emphatic "No."

Suddenly, his lightly furred left forearm, visible beneath the pushed-up sleeve of his blue button-up shirt, was reaching around her waist and his other arm was on her right side so that he was encircling her.

Rainey could feel her heartbeat in her temples. "What're you doing," she asked, cursing the breathless sound of her voice.

"You don't want me to do it for you, so we'll do it together," he said, wrapping his hands around her straining wrists. 

She could feel the heat of his body so close behind her, smell the scent of his cologne and the sweetness of caramel on his breath.

Rainey's only coherent thought was: 'God hates me...'

Then Aidan was telling her to "Pull!" and she did; for a minute they made no progress, but finally a popping noise filled the room as the drawer gave up its end of the battle.

With all of the effort she'd put into pulling, Rainey nearly lost her balance when the drawer came free. She stumbled backward and would have fallen if Aidan hadn't caught her, and himself, on the edge of the table. 

There was a good five seconds when he had to hold her full weight up before she was able to stand on her own, which Rainey was mortified to realize considering she wasn't the most...waif-like person in the world.

This day just keeps getting better and better, she thought.

"Thanks," she muttered, pushing a bush of frizzy hair out of her face as she reached for her yogurt then grabbed a spoon out of the now-despised drawer.

"No problem," Aidan said, crossing to pick up the box of Fiddle Faddle. "I owed you one. But now, you owe me."

"I owe you...," she asked slowly.

"Yep," he said. "If it weren't for me, you'd have ended up all crumpled and bruised on the floor."

"Which means I owe you," she said, her confusion clear in her voice.

"That's right. And don't think I'll cancel out my favors cheap. I drive a hard bargain and I never forget when someone owes me."

She had just opened her mouth to respond, though she had no idea what she was going to say, when Brenda's plump form appeared in the doorway. "Here you are, Aidan, I thought you'd left. Lyn can see you now."

"Brenda, m'dear, you know I could never leave you," he said, walking toward the door, the box of popcorn tucked beneath his arm. "I'll see you later, Rainey," he called over his shoulder.

"Bye," she said quietly, knowing he wouldn't hear her. "He does know my name," she whispered to herself then realized she'd just uttered the clichéd line of "unpopular" girls everywhere.

'You owe me,' he'd said. A shiver ran up her spine as she wondered what he'd meant by that.

"He's just messing around," she decided aloud as she left the break room and headed for the draft table and her uncomfortable chair. 

But as she made her way across the room, she glanced at Lyn's door and was immensely relieved that it was closed and Aidan was on the other side.

Rainey's Song Ch. 02



The smoke floating in the air made Aidan's eyes sting and he wasn't particularly enjoying the constant jostling of the closely packed crowd. 

It was Saturday night, a little more than twenty-four hours since he'd pitched writing an in-depth review of Seattle's newest nightclub to Lynette. But now that he was here in the midst of the loud conversation and blaring music that made up the atmosphere of the club called 'Soleil,' he thoroughly wished he was home watching a Law & Order re-run. Despite his discomfort, however, he smiled when he saw the man he was looking for emerge from the smoky haze of the club's second-floor bar area.

"Jean-Philippe," Aidan said, clasping the shorter, dark-haired man in a firm hug.

When the two moved apart Jean-Philippe, the epitome of the dark-haired, romantic Frenchman in an Armani suit and Italian shoes, regarded Aidan's much more casual jeans and black polo shirt with a wry grin. "Only you would show up to the hottest new club in town wearing the clothes you do your grocery shopping in, Aidan," he said, his words faintly highlighted by the French accent he'd all but lost during his boarding school days in England where he and Aidan had met and formed a long-lasting friendship.

Aidan laughed, slapping his old friend on the shoulder. "And only you would be arrogant enough to call *your* club the hottest one in town despite the fact that you've only been open for, what, a week now?"

Jean gave a classic Gallic shrug. "Ten days. Ten days of revelry and dancing and," he let out an appreciative breath as a blonde in a halter dress that seemed much to short—on both ends—walked by, "...and beautiful, beautiful women," he finished his sentence and returned his attention to Aidan. "Besides, once you write this article about 'Soleil' opening in Seattle I'll get more press for 'Bamboo' opening in L.A. in four months. It's such a nice diversion, this taking over of America's nightlife," he finished on a chuckle.

As they spoke they'd made their way to the furthest end of the bar and took seats. From that angle they could see the entirety of the bar-level. With dozens of thick, dark-painted columns throughout the room, each one embedded with tiny glowing lights, the atmosphere created was one of stars sparkling in the smoky darkness of the room. 

Ordering a beer, Aidan raised an eyebrow but didn't comment when Jean asked for only bottled water and a glass of ice. Once their drinks were served, Aidan turned on his stool to watch the energized crowd gyrate to the fast dance songs blasting out over hidden speakers. "It's an amazing place you've got here, Jean."

His friend smiled arrogantly. "Yes, I know."

Shaking his head at Jean's shameless overconfidence, Aidan smiled and brought the bottle of beer to his lips but turned his head to hear Jean over the music.

"And what about you," the Frenchman asked, slowly swirling the water in his glass like it was the finest of wines.

"What about me," Aidan tossed the question back.

"Where is your dream, my friend? I remember that you wanted to be a photographer, an artist, but instead you spend your time taking pictures of beaches and mountains that are better suited for postcards."

Despite his best efforts, Aidan felt his jaw clench in irritation. Leave it to Jean to bring up his life's path in the middle of a raucous nightclub; he'd always had a terrible sense of timing.

"You always have had a terrible sense of timing," he said aloud and drained his beer, signaling the bartender to bring him another.

"And what the hell does that mean?"

"What do you think it means?" Aidan glowered at him. "I do what I have to do to make a living, all right? I majored in print journalism at Columbia instead of photojournalism because I knew that I'd never make any money as a photographer. Hell, I barely make enough to put me through Grad school doing freelance work as it is."

"So is that all it is for you," Jean asked quietly. "It's just about the money? You'd give up something that you're passionate about because you think you won't make money? Damn it, Aidan, I'll give you money if that's all you need."

"Dammit!" Aidan slammed his bottle down on the bar, ignoring the copious amount of beer that splashed out onto his hand and the astonished stares of nearby club-goers. "I don't want your money, Jean. I didn't want my father's money and I sure as hell don't want to talk about this. What I do with my life is my business and no one else's."

Returning Aidan's hard stare unflinchingly, Jean momentarily wished that he'd picked a better time to discuss this, but, like Aidan had said, he had a terrible sense of timing and a bad habit of simply saying what came to mind without thinking it through. "Look, Aidan, as your friend..."

Aidan cut him off. "As *your* friend, I'm asking you to drop it. You wanted me to write a story for the magazine, I pitched it to my boss and she liked it as a feature about attractions in Seattle, so I'll do it. But when it comes to my *personal* decisions—just leave it alone."

They both simmered in silence for several heartbeats. Aidan's tenseness was palpable, as was the fact that Jean had obviously not said all he intended to say. "Alright, I'm sorry I brought it up," he said finally, laying a brotherly hand on Aidan's shoulder. "I think I'm becoming a mother hen in my old age."

Aidan snorted his skepticism of that point as he watched Jean eye a blonde in a crimson bustier and black mini skirt. "Don't worry about it," he replied and they sat in companionable silence for long minutes.

"It's like a delicious game of roulette, you know," Jean said after a while. He was still watching the blonde but his face took on a speculative expression. "When I opened that first club in Paris...that was the biggest gamble of my life. No one thought I would last three months." He smiled at the memory, his elbows resting on the edge of the bar as he watched the crowd. "Even I didn't think I would last the first month," he laughed. "But it's been almost two years and look at it...my fourth club in the States. Three in Europe. Do you know what I learned in all of this, mon ami?"

Aidan smiled at his friend's reflections. He really was happy for all that Jean had accomplished so early in life. While Aidan was struggling through journalism classes at Columbia, forced to relegate his love of photography to a handful of elective classes and seminars, Jean was still in Europe carving out a place for himself in the world just like he'd always said he would. 

In a way it made Aidan sad, and admittedly a little jealous, to think of all of the dreams he'd had slip through his fingers while Jean was continuously adding more to his collection. 'But I'm happy for him,' he thought. And he was. So he asked, "What did you learn over the past few years, Jean?"

Sighing a contented sigh that reminded Aidan of a just-fed cat, Jean drained his glass of water. "I learned that this business isn't about being the best or having the most extravagant club. It's about knowing your customer."

"And you know yours." Aidan couldn't keep the skepticism from his voice as he thought of a usually self-absorbed Jean professing to be a people-watcher.

"I know you don't believe that," Jean said, understanding the line of Aidan's thoughts, "but it really is about giving them the things that they need—the things they don't even know they wish for. There's a reason I named this place 'Soleil.'

"The Sun," Aidan translated.

Jean nodded. "Seattleites live in a place of clouds and rain, so I brought them sunshine. This is a place for the outgoing girls who're heartbreakers and veterans of the chase. It's a place where the men know that they aren't the only ones on the hunt...where dark corners hold promise and every beat of the music matches their every heartbeat. That's what they want. They all believe themselves to be unique and unpredictable, but I *predict* that. I know in advance what's in the mind of every person who walks through my doors."

With a grin on his face, Aidan stared out at the crowd as Jean talked. He watched the club-goers move together, against and away from each other, on the steamy dance floor below the bar and took in Jean's words. It was true that clubs had a certain clientele that were, for the most part, always predictable, but as Aidan was about to ask Jean if he'd become a poet as well as an entrepreneur, two women entered the bar-level via the a spiral staircase leading down to a lower level of the club where the twenty-one and under crowds danced the night away. One was tall, dark-haired and slim; the other was shorter, rounder, with a mass of chestnut hair and a familiarly dainty chin. Aidan squinted his eyes in the darkness, looked hard at the second woman and swore under his breath in disbelief.

***************

Rainey's feet hurt. Her back hurt, the cigarette smoke in the air was making her eyes water and the pulsing of the music in the club made her head hurt, too. She knew she wasn't being a good friend to her roommate, Karen, who'd all but begged her to come out to what was supposed to be the hottest new club in town, but she couldn't help it. 

Leaning the small of her back against the table she was sitting at, she tried to find a more comfortable position for her aching feet in the little high-heeled sandals Karen had leant her but it was useless, there was no relief short of taking them off and Rainey couldn't do that until they left. Which she hoped would be soon. She realized that she was the world's worst 'going out' companion but Karen had practically manhandled her into the outfit she was wearing, so she couldn't say no. 

The satiny red shirt she wore was a past Christmas present from her mother as were the form-fitting jeans hugging her full hips. In fact, Rainey had never even considered wearing half of the 'nice' clothes her mother bought for her since she usually preferred her clothes to be a bit loose in order to hide her more...obvious sins. But even with all of Karen's work doing her best to turn Rainey into a glam-girl for a night on the town, Rainey knew what everyone else in the club knew: she was nothing but a wallflower out for a bit of sun.

She sighed and shifted again in the chair, resting one elbow on the cool surface of the table. She really had come out tonight, albeit apprehensively, with the goal of at least trying to have some fun, but the minute they'd crossed the threshold into the club her hopes had dropped enormously as she took in what seemed to be an ocean of brightly clothed, beautiful girls dancing and laughing and talking with gorgeous guys, all of them without a care in the world. A world in which Rainey knew she didn't belong.

They'd been inside less than half an hour when guys starting asking Karen to dance or were openly flirting with her. And Rainey watched Karen take it all in stride. With her musical laughter and bright eyes, it was clear that she, a Californian who'd come to Seattle for school, was having the time of her life while Rainey saw that 'clubbing,' as Karen called their present occupation, wasn't for her. It was mostly because she was uncomfortable in such a huge crowd of people, but partly she admitted to herself with an embarrassed twist of her mouth, because she couldn't dance.

As if on cue, Karen's tall, lithe form came bouncing out of the crowd to find Rainey sitting exactly where she'd left her half an hour earlier when Rainey had said she needed a rest. "Come on, Rainey," she called enthusiastically over the music, "let's dance. I love this song!"

Shaking her head sheepishly Rainey held up a hand to wave her off. "No, you go ahead. My feet are killing me, I guess I'm not used to wearing heels."

Karen laughed and tossed a handful of wavy black hair over her shoulder. "That might be because you don't even *own* a pair of heels."

Rainey blushed as Karen grabbed her hand and slowly pulled her from her seat. "My mom always used to say, 'If it isn't painful, you're not doing it right,' and you're definitely doing it right, Rainey. You look amazing!" Karen had succeeded in pulling Rainey to the edge of the dance floor but Rainey dug in her heels just short of being swallowed up by the swaying crowd.

"Wait," she said, removing her hand from Karen's. 

"What's wrong?" Rainey could see the concern in her friend's eyes and felt guilty over it. All Karen wanted to do was have fun but she was ruining her night for her.

"Nothing, I just..." she trailed off lamely. She looked at Karen, black-haired, blue-eyed, tiny-waisted Karen, who even in the dim lighting of the club was gorgeous beyond belief. How could she explain to this girl who'd obviously never had a moment of self-doubt in her life that she, Rainey, stumbled over herself the minute a good-looking man spoke to her? She couldn't she realized, so she went with the easiest of her qualms. "I can't dance," she blurted. 

For a minute Karen just blinked at her, not seeming to understand, then she laughed a little and hugged Rainey's shoulders. "Sweetie, look at that dance floor," she pointed in the direction of the crowd, "half of the people out there can't dance and they don't care. They're just here to have fun. That's what it's all about Rainey."

"I know," she replied quietly, "But I'm just not used to all of this like you are. I mean, back home, Friday night entertainment is the local bowling alley and that's only when there aren't any high school football games to go to."

Karen laughed and hugged her again. "You know what, don't even worry about it. By the time this school year's over you're going to be able to go clubbing with the best, but," she interrupted when Rainey looked like she was about to protest, "you don't have to start tonight. We'll take it in baby steps." Rainey smiled gratefully at her for being so nice about everything. 

"In the meantime," Karen continued, "let's do a little exploring." As she spoke, she took Rainey's hand again and began pulling her toward a set of metal stairs that led up to the second-floor of the club.

"Karen, we can't," Rainey protested in a loud whisper, "we're underage; the bar's up there."

"Exactly," her friend replied as she increased her pace. "And," she said over her shoulder as they started up the stairs, "the bouncer just turned his back to talk to some guy who's probably his boss, so we'd better hurry."

At her words Rainey picked up speed, terrified with every step that the heel of her sandals would slip through one of the holes in the metal grating that made up the stairs. When she finally emerged on the second floor just behind Karen she groaned low in her throat as she saw another bouncer standing a few feet to the left of the landing with his back to them; he was there to keep underage club-goers from sneaking up to the bar area...which was what she and Karen had just done.

Reaching out nervously, Rainey tried to grab Karen's hand to tug her back down the stairs, but Karen had another idea.

"See, Rainey," she said loudly enough that the bouncer turned his head to look at them. "I told you that you didn't want to go down there, that's where all the college students are." Flashing a brilliant smile at the bouncer who blinked rapidly at the beauty's attention, Karen leaned in close to him and whispered, "Hmm, your eyes are blue. I made a bet with her that they would be." With another quick grin Karen grabbed an amazed Rainey's hand and dragged her away while the bouncer stared after them.

A few yards away from the stairs they came to a stop near the dance floor and stood watching the crowd move to the rhythmic music. Rainey was still in shock at Karen's quick thinking. She turned to her. "You're a genius, you know?"

Karen laughed. "Hardly. Everything I know, I learned from my mom. And everything she taught me, my grandma taught her. It's kind of a family secret," she said in a conspiratorial tone.

"Whatever it was, it was brilliant," Rainey replied. "If it had been me by myself I probably would have burst into tears and ran back down the stairs."

"We'll have to work on that, too," Karen said, laughing, as she cast her eyes around the room. "See? Isn't it better up here, Rainey?"

Rainey looked around and noted that aside from the long, glass-topped bar against the far wall and a subtle difference in the décor, the upper and lower levels of the club were pretty much the same. Hot, loud and crowded.

"I love this song," Karen said excitedly as another up-tempo song started playing. She began to move to the beat, her hips swaying and hair bouncing with every move she made. "Do you think..." Karen began, but her words cut off abruptly as an older man, obviously a bit drunk, emerged from the smoky darkness and put his hands on her hips.

"Come on, beautiful, let's dance," he said over the music, not giving Karen a chance to say yes or no, he just pulled her onto the dance floor. Leaving Rainey standing alone.

"I'll be right back," Rainey heard Karen call as she disappeared on the floor, and Rainey smiled; at least Karen was having some fun tonight.

But standing alone on the edge of the floor, her feet began to ache again and she started to feel self-conscious. Sitting alone downstairs while Karen had danced with guy after guy was one thing, but here, with nowhere to go while she waited for Karen to come back, she felt like she was on display, like everyone was watching her. It really didn't make any sense for her to be so insecure or so...shy. But, she couldn't help it. She was always nervous, terrified, that people were watching her and judging her, the irony being that her fears were what made her ramble like an insane person or look like a bumbling idiot. She spent so much time thinking about what she should say or do that she never took the time to consider that it really didn't matter to other people that she wasn't the most outgoing person in the world.

Even though she realized those facts, she was still starting to panic as the minutes ticked by and Karen hadn't come back even though the song she said she liked had ended and a new one started. Chewing on her lip nervously she glanced to the left at the gathering of dimly lit tables and chairs off against the far wall. She could go sit and wait for Karen to finish but she didn't relish sitting alone in the dark amidst obviously half-drunk men.

So, the way she saw it, she had two options: stand here looking like a nervous wreck or brave the dark corners and find somewhere to sit and hopefully not get mauled by some intoxicated stranger.

'Door A or Door B?' she thought to herself. But from where she was standing, neither one looked too appealing.

Still thinking over her options, she jumped when a large, warm hand closed over her upper arm. She spun around, ready to tell whoever it was that she didn't want to dance but the words died on her lips as she stared, in shock and mortification, into the deep blue eyes of Aidan Murphy.

For several seconds, her mind refused to process the situation. Aidan was here, standing in front of her and—oh God—touching her upper arm. The heat of his fingers sent tiny shivers up and down her spine, proving to her that he was, indeed, standing there. But why?

She didn't ask. She just kept staring at him.

He looked uncomfortable suddenly, a little unsure of himself, but that couldn't be right, could it?

Then he smiled a little, dropped his hand from her arm and said, "Hey, Rainey."

That smile...that damn smile had her head spinning. Why--*why*--did he affect her like this?

She didn't smile back. She couldn't. 

Without thinking she opened her mouth and said the first thing that came to mind. "Oh, crap." 



Rainey's Song Ch. 03



Even through the haze and smoke of the club, through the fast-moving motions of engrossed dancers and the general din common to all nightclubs, Aidan recognized Rainey. Only, she didn't look like the Rainey he'd grown used to seeing on his irregular visits to the magazine office.

This Rainey had sleek, straightened hair pulled back into a stylish ponytail at the base of her neck, she wore a red satin lingerie-inspired top that hugged her full breasts and flared out around the shoulders to cap the creaminess of her rounded upper arms. Curve-hugging jeans and strappy red sandals completed the outfit and Aidan couldn't help but be amazed at this transformation of the girl who'd stammered shyly at him the day before into a lush, sexy woman tonight.

He was vaguely aware of Jean-Philippe still talking to him, but he tuned him out as he watched Rainey follow her dark-haired friend onto the dance floor. He still couldn't believe it was her and he couldn't stop staring. She looked…she looked…

He watched her glance around anxiously as her tall friend was grabbed up into an impromptu dance with a man who was obviously drunk and a stranger; Rainey was left standing alone and painfully motionless in the middle of the floor. From the few times he'd ever spoken to her, Aidan had an idea of how shy she was and he couldn't stand watching her look so anxious. From the way she was chewing on her lower lip she looked like she might panic and make a run for the door.

Not thinking about what he was doing, he put his empty beer bottle on the bar, slid off his stool and started toward her.

"Aidan, what are you doing," he heard Jean-Philippe call out.

He didn't slow down or look back. 

"Your guess is as good as mine," he tossed over his shoulder as he made his way through the crowd to Rainey. 

It took him awhile to push through the throng of people amassed in front of the bar, losing site of Rainey in the process he was afraid that by the time he reached her she wouldn't be there anymore. But, emerging on the other side of the dance floor, he looked around and saw her standing a few yards away. Her back was to him and he could see her craning her neck as she looked for her dark-haired friend.

Now that he'd found her he stood motionless for a few seconds. 'What am I going to say,' he thought. He could hardly walk up behind her, tap her on the shoulder and say, 'Hello, I saw your friend desert you. Can I be of any service?' And what if she didn't recognize him in the darkness? He sure as hell almost hadn't recognized her. But, he reminded himself, that was only because she looked so…different. He found himself staring at her again. Staring like a high school kid with his first crush. But he couldn't help it. There was just something about her tonight that was making him feel off balance and even a little nervous about approaching her.

'This can't be good,' he thought unconsciously and almost decided to go back to the bar, but as he watched her, she turned again so that her profile was outlined against the dull lighting of table lamps on the far side of the room and he could see her face. She looked like she was close to tears.

Aidan started toward her. He always had been a sucker for damsels in distress. He stopped barely a foot away from her and, without thinking, reached out and grabbed her arm since she probably wouldn't be able to hear him call her name over the music.

When she jumped and turned around wide-eyed he cursed his own stupidity for scaring her. He grew uncomfortable as her huge green eyes, fringed with amazingly long lashes, widened even more when she realized it was him standing behind her. Aidan didn't know what he'd expected her reaction to be but this intense uncomfortable silence hadn't really been on his list of possibilities. Trying to put her at ease, he gave her a little smile and dropped his hand from her upper arm—completely refusing to acknowledge the strange tingling in his palm as he let her go. 

"Hey Rainey," he said when she kept staring at him. Not the best opening line, he conceded to himself, but it was better than them standing there staring at each other.

But Rainey didn't smile back at him. 

For a moment he thought she hadn't heard him, then her face took on a look of desperation and her lips moved. 

"Oh crap," he thought he heard her say.

Aidan's brow furrowed a bit. Had he heard her right? He leaned in closer, catching the scent of lilies that seemed to surround her, and said, "What did you say?"

'Oh my God,' Rainey thought. 'What *did* I just say?' Aidan was so close to her, so uncomfortably close that she could feel the heat of his body. She was suddenly light-headed.

"N-nothing," she stammered. What was he doing here? Of all the places he could be on a Saturday night, why did he have to pick this club? Why did he have to be standing here, looking at her and touching her, making her stomach do strange little flips? She was sure she looked terrible; God, she could feel the sheen of sweat from the closeness of the club covering her skin and he would see it, too. 

'Damn,' she thought. 'And I'd just managed to forget that incident at work yesterday.' But here he was again to mess with her senses. He was dressed casually in a black polo and jeans, but she could clearly delineate the shape of his muscles beneath the shirt. He was so close that, if she extended her hand just a little, she'd be able to touch his broad torso. 

Rainey swallowed hard. "I think I need to sit down." She'd been speaking more to herself than to him, but he nodded and took hold of her elbow to steer her through the crowd. The tightness of their passage through the mass of milling people meant that Aidan's body was pressed up against hers for what seemed like hours.

They finally made their way through the throng and, for her own sanity, Rainey quickly moved away from Aidan's touch. She looked for a table near the dance floor so that Karen wouldn't have that much trouble finding her but Aidan, who'd come to stand next to her, pointed to a table that was almost as far into the corner as possible. Rainey groaned inwardly but followed him through the maze of tables and people until they reached their destination.

A small crimson lamp, a few shades brighter than the club's deep red walls, was the table's only decoration; it's orange-colored lampshade cast a sunset-like glow in a small circle, illuminating both Rainey and Aidan with interesting highlights and lowlights as they each took one of the two seats.

Aidan looked at Rainey who was, much to his consternation, staring at her hands as if there was some sort of secret hidden in them.

"So…" he said, but she didn't look up. He watched her fidget for a while, crossing and uncrossing her legs. Finally he said, "Rainey." 

"Hmm?" She still didn't look at him.

"Rainey," he said her name again and waited this time, giving her no choice but to meet his eyes. When she finally did he asked, "Are you all right?"

She was chewing the inside of her cheek and Aidan realized how nervous she was. Was it him that made her so uncomfortable? He'd never experienced anyone as unsure of themselves as she was and he couldn't understand it.

"I'm fine," she said quietly, her eyes darting to his and then back to her hands.

Aidan didn't know what to do. He wanted her to just relax and maybe smile a little, but he didn't know how to get her to that point so he sat watching her for a while. It was like she was two different people, he mused. When he'd first seen her emerge from the staircase he'd thought she was this amazingly beautiful, sexy woman and, he admitted to himself, he'd been attracted to her. More than he'd been attracted to any woman in quite a while, actually.

But sexual attraction wasn't anything new to Aidan; it was something he could deal with. Now, sitting here with her while she looked so uneasy, he was still attracted to her—God, even across the table he could smell the scent of lilies that clung to her skin—but he was more interested in making her calm down. He wanted to talk to her, he realized. Really talk to her. There was something in those green eyes that made him *need* to talk to her.

Yesterday, at the magazine office when he'd stumbled upon her in the break room, it was the first time he'd ever really looked at her. Sure he'd seen her before and he knew her name, he knew the names of everyone who worked at the magazine, but until yesterday, their paths had never crossed.

He smiled to himself remembering the way her face had flamed bright red when that drawer had refused to open. So he'd teased her a little bit. Told her that she owed him.

But he hadn't really meant it. He'd only wanted to make her smile yet she'd just stared back at him, solemn and confused, obviously apprehensive about what he meant. Any other woman would have flirted with him, he knew. Aidan wasn't a conceited man but he understood that women found him attractive and he usually used that fact to his advantage. But Rainey…she was nothing like all of those other women he'd had meaningless flirtations and dalliances with. Innocent and pure, so quietly hopeful and shy, she was nothing like he'd expected her to be and that intrigued him. It was so rare to find anyone, male or female, who didn't fall into a pre-set category. But Rainey was one of those people and Aidan wanted…

What *did* he want, he asked himself. There could never be anything physical between them. She was barely nineteen years old, a freshman in college, and he was in the middle of grad school. He was only twenty-four himself but that five years could be like a chasm in relationships. He'd learned that the hard way, he thought darkly, but he pushed the memory aside.

He was attracted to her, he admitted that to himself, but he was old enough to understand that sex could be as much of a complication as it was gratification sometimes. 

So, they'd be friends, he decided. He could help her realize that she was beautiful and worthwhile and she, well, she could remind him of what it felt like to be full of dreams. Reaching across the table he took hold of her right hand and, ignoring her gasp of surprise, proceeded to closely inspect the ring she wore on her ring finger. Her hands were soft and dainty, with long, elegantly tapered fingers and graceful oval nails.

Aidan shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He had never been so turned on by a woman's hands in his life. "This is lovely," he said to distract himself from the knot of desire forming in the pit of his belly. He let the tip of his much larger finger stroke the pink stone in the center of the silver setting.

"It…it's my high school ring," she said quietly, sitting perfectly still as he continued his inspection.

"R.O.W. What do those stand for," he asked, referring to the initials engraved on one side of the ring.

"Rainey Olivia Wilson."

"Olivia," Aidan smiled and looked into her eyes. "I like it."

Rainey smiled as he turned her hand in his so that he could look at the symbols etched in the other side of the ring. "And this," he asked, tapping his fingertip against a tiny image of two people embracing.

"It's supposed to mean 'memories,'" she said and smiled thoughtfully.

Watching her, Aidan asked, "Do you miss high school?"

Her laughter surprised him. "No, not really. I was…" she seemed to be searching for the right words. "I was awkward and timid and…" she trailed off. She'd been about to say "fat" but caught herself in time. No need to point out the obvious, was there?

"And what?" 

"Nothing," Rainey shrugged. "I was pretty much the bottom of the adolescent food chain. I had one or two good friends who went to the east coast for college but other than that…" she shrugged again and figured he could fill in the rest on his own.

High school hadn't been terrible for her but it was, by no means, the magical fairytale that so many Hollywood movies painted it to be. She'd been a good student, quiet and respectful, and her teachers always recommended her for achievement awards. Other than that, no one noticed her. Being invisible had been okay with her, though she'd always admired the confidence the popular girls. Never once had she seen one of them in doubt or self-conscious. She had never wanted their popularity for she wouldn't have known what to do with that kind of attention; all she had ever envied them was their self-assurance.

"So, if you don't miss high school," Aidan asked, his voice bringing her back to the present as he lowered her hand to the table but still held it in his, "what do you miss?"

She pulled her lower lip between her teeth and smiled in memory. His gaze shot to her mouth and, for a moment, he was distracted from anything but the shape of her mouth and the fullness of that bottom lip. He wondered what she tasted like. He was so caught up in watching her that he almost missed her next words.

"I miss my kids," she said. She'd been looking at her ring as she spoke but when she looked up at Aidan and saw the look of dumbfounded shock on his face she laughed.

"Wait, you have kids?" Aidan asked the question slowly while she was still laughing. He had to have heard her wrong.

Finally getting herself under control, Rainey shook her head and smiled at him. "Okay, that definitely came out wrong." She chuckled again. "I *work* with kids over the summer. In a day camp," she added. 

"Ah," Aidan said, "that definitely makes more sense that what I was thinking." They laughed together and then fell silent. "So, what was so great about working with kids," he asked when it became clear that she wasn't going to continue on her own.

She was silent for a long moment, a faraway look on her face and Aidan waited patiently for her to collect her thoughts.

"I love all of the little things that they find so amazing. I love talking to them about their pets, books they've read, they're siblings, you know, all of those things that they're parents might not have the time to listen to." Aidan watched her talk. Her face lit up with the animation of her memories and her mouth curved into a soft smile; the cadence of her voice was hypnotic.

"I remember this one time," Rainey continued, "myself and some of the other staff decided that, for a treat, we'd show our kids how to make ice cream. So, we brought them zip lock bags, the milk, the ice, flavoring, everything we needed, and proceeded to show them how to do it. To get the ice cold enough, you have to add rock salt to it, and then you put another baggie with all of the ingredients for the ice cream *inside* that bag so they're separate. We told the kids that but…"she paused in the middle of her sentence to laugh at the memory.

"But they put the salt in the ice cream itself," Aidan guessed.

Rainey nodded through her laughter. "Four tablespoons of salt. Every single one of them did it even though we told them over and over not to. Once we were finished and we told them they could eat it, all I heard was, 'Teacher, mine tastes funny.'"

Aidan chuckled at the story. "So what did you do?"

"Well, I felt so bad that they'd been so excited about having ice cream that I ran down to the grocery store and bought them Popsicles. That was probably a bad idea, though. It was so hot that day that they ended up with bright red rings around their mouths from the juice and spots all over their clothes from the Popsicles melting faster than they could lick."

As he looked into her eyes there was a strange fluttering in Aidan's chest that he couldn't figure out. There was something about Rainey that made him want to sit here talking to her all night. As it was, he began to absent-mindedly stroke her palm with his thumb.  Looking right into her eyes and said the first thing that came to mind. "You're amazing."

Rainey's heart felt like it was going to pound its way out of her chest and do a little jig on the table between her and Aidan. Even if it did, she thought abstractly, she wouldn't be able to pull her eyes away from his. He was looking at her like he could see right into her soul. Unbelievably, her heart picked up its pace. "It was only Popsicles and a ruined batch of ice cream…" she began.

He cut her off, shaking his head slightly as he stared at her. "I'm not talking about the ice cream. I'm talking about you. You've got this little wall up all the time; you're so shy and quiet. But then…now…when you forget to be afraid of the world, there's this unbelievable, generous, funny…beautiful person underneath all of that."

Rainey didn't know what to say. It was true that she'd been so comfortable with him after he'd gotten her to start talking that she hadn't been afraid or anxious, but the things he'd said to her…

"I'm not beautiful," she said and watched his brow furrow at her words.

"Yes, you are. You are," he said again, more firmly when she shook her head a little in denial. "How can you possibly think that you aren't?"

She was speechless. He was looking at her so intensely that she had to fight not to squirm beneath his stare. Her hand was still in his, his thumb resting lightly on her wrist; her eyes flicked to where their hands were joined then back to his face and she wondered if he could feel her erratic heartbeat.

"I just know I'm not, that's all," she said. She was chubby, plump, fat. Whichever way she put it, it meant the same thing: she wasn't beautiful. Of course there were times when she thought she looked nice, but she never let herself go so far as to think 'beautiful,' because she knew she never would be.

The look on Aidan's face was one of frustration and Rainey became confused. What did he have to be frustrated about? He was the one driving her insane by holding her hand and giving her compliments that she knew weren't true. It anyone should be frustrated it should be her.

Not only that, but this whole conversation was making her uncomfortable. "So, I was surprised to see you here tonight," she said in a desperate attempt to change the subject.

Aidan spoke at the same time, however. "What are you afraid of, Rainey," he asked.

His question hung in the air like a palpable object and Rainey watched him apprehensively. She decided to pretend like she hadn't heard his question. She wasn't afraid of anything…not really…so maybe he would just drop it.

He was obviously aware of her discomfort so he replied to her comment and let his question go. "I'm here because my friend owns the club and I'm doing an article on it for the magazine," he said.

Rainey's eyes widened in surprise. "Are you serious?" She didn't know much about this club, or any club for that matter, but from what Karen had told her before they came out to 'Soleil,' the owner of the club also had a few scattered across Europe and the U.S. that were popular spots for several celebrities and other VIPs. "Karen would flip out," she told Aidan.

"Karen? Is that the friend you came in with?" Rainey nodded at his question, then something occurred to her. "How did you know I came with someone?"

"I saw you from the bar," Aidan said on a shrug. "I saw her get dragged out onto the dance floor and I thought I'd make sure you were okay."

"Oh," she said simply. She didn't know what to think about the fact that while she'd been standing there alone waiting for Karen to come back Aidan had been watching her from across the room. "Oh no," she said, starting suddenly with a dismayed look on her face. "I forgot all about Karen. She's probably been looking for me this whole time." 

She jumped up from her seat and would have hurried away to find Karen if Aidan hadn't caught her wrist in his large hand. 

"What are you doing," she asked, looking down into his eyes.

"Nothing," he said. "I just figured I'd save you the trip." At her looked of puzzlement he nodded his head in the direction of the dance floor. Rainey looked up to see Karen coming toward them and breathed a sigh of relief.




Rainey's Song Ch. 03



"I am *so* sorry," Karen said as she approached, not seeming to notice Aidan or that he was still holding Rainey's hand. "I know I said I'd be right back but I just got so caught up in the music and then I bumped into Thomas, you know that guy in my philosophy class? Well, he said he's having an after-party at his dad's house and he wants me to come but I told him that I couldn't unless you came, too. I know you were kind of tired earlier so if you don't want to we can just leave if you want." 

Aidan watched the by-play with acute interest and he could clearly see that Rainey was less than enthusiastic about the party that Karen seemed so excited about, though he commended Karen for offering to leave with Rainey. But he knew, as he was sure that Karen did, that Rainey wouldn't ask to go home if it meant Karen would miss out on the party.

"No it's fine," Rainey began, "I can…"

But Aidan cut her off. "She can get a ride with me," he said, standing up next to the two women.

Karen looked between Rainey and Aidan in surprise, her eyes widening when she saw that Rainey's hand was clasped in Aidan's.

Rainey, noting the direction of Karen's eyes quickly pulled her hand from Aidan's grasp and turned to him. "I thought you had a story to write," she said slowly. She didn't relish the idea of being along with Aidan any longer. Their conversation had been in danger of getting a little too deep just a few minutes before and despite the fact that she'd talked to him more easily than she did to most people, the sheer fact of his stimulating presence made her uneasy.

"I do," he said, "but the club isn't going anywhere. Besides, you obviously don't want to go to that party and your friend does. If I take you home I can solve both your problems since I'm assuming you came got here in a cab."

Karen jumped into the conversation then. "We did come in a cab," she said, then smiled and extended her hand to Aidan, a bold look of appreciation in her eyes. "I'm Karen, Rainey's roommate."

"I'm Aidan," he said, shaking her hand. "I freelance at the magazine where Rainey works."

Karen's eyebrow slid upward and she shot Rainey a look that clearly said, 'You didn't tell me about *this.*'

Rainey groaned at the look. Karen, God love her, didn't have a subtle bone in her body. She looked at Aidan in order to turn him down; she really, *really* didn't want to go to this party but it seemed safer than more time alone with him.

But Karen forestalled her. "God, I'm so glad we figured this out. Thomas said he only has one free seat and we were going to have to cram four people in the back of his two-door." She gave Rainey a quick hug. "You're the best, Rainey. I swear I'll make it up to you. You can drag me to the museum next weekend," she grinned and held up one hand like she was taking an oath. "I promise that I won't yawn or groan or die of boredom the whole time." Another quick hug and she started to move away from Rainey and Aidan. "It was nice to meet you, Aidan. Rainey, I'll see you later on, sweetie." And then she was bounding back into the crowd in search of Thomas.

Aidan stood next to a silent Rainey. He knew she hadn't wanted to accept a ride from him, but he also knew that she really hadn't wanted to go to that party but she was too nice to say so; he only hoped she wasn't upset with him over the way he'd vetoed her objections.

"You ready to go," he asked and when she nodded silently, not meeting his eyes, he swore under his breath. 'So, we're back to that,' he thought.

Taking her elbow, he led her away from their table. He did his best to skirt the dance floor and the worst of the crowd, his path taking him near the bar. It wasn't until her heard Jean-Philippe calling his name over the noise of the music that he even remembered that he'd pretty much deserted his friend in the middle of a conversation.

Aidan glanced at his watch. It was a bit past 1 a.m. With a twinge of guilt he realized that he'd left Jean hanging for over an hour. He turned to see his friend emerge from behind the bar where he'd been good-naturedly serving drinks to customers while still dressed to the nines in Armani. 

Laughing as Jean approached, he felt Rainey come to a stop beside him. "What are you doing, Jean," he asked, "reliving your early years by doing a little time behind the bar?" He referred to the time a few years back before Jean had saved enough to open his first club and he'd been forced to bartend for a living in a Paris 'discotheque.'

"I had to do something to pass the time after you jumped up and ran away while I was still talking to you," Jean said, giving Aidan a pointed look. But then his eyes lighted on Rainey standing a little behind Aidan and his brows shot up. "Mais non, Aidan," he said slowly, smiling in Rainey's direction. "You may have had your reasons." 

He took a step toward Rainey and reached for her hand, she was too shocked to do anything but let him bring it to his lips. "Hello, cherie," he said. "I am Jean-Philippe Montefour. A long-time friend of Aidan and," he paused, tossing an arm into the air in a small circle meant to encompass the entirety of the room, "owner of this club."

So, this was the friend Aidan had come to see, Rainey realized. She smiled shyly at him. "I'm Rainey," she said quietly.

"Rainey," Jean repeated. "A name as lovely as its owner," he said, slowly allowing his gaze to travel from the top of her head down to her unpainted toes.

Aidan felt an unreasonable burst of anger at Jean's behavior begin to build in his belly. "Cool it, Jean," he said, a certain amount of steel in his voice. "I was just about to take Rainey home."

Jean glanced at him, a quizzical expression in his eye. Aidan knew what he was thinking and he was wondering the same thing himself. Why was he so irritated by Jean's flirtations? The Frenchman made a game of conversation and sexuality, playing the sport to an art with every woman he met. But, Aidan thought to himself, Rainey wasn't every other woman.

"I see," Jean said, holding Aidan's gaze for a moment before turning back to Rainey. "And here I was so interested in getting to know you, ma petite. I know," he snapped his fingers as an idea occurred to him. Reaching inside the jacket of his suit, he pulled a business card from a pocket and handed it to Rainey. "I am having a party next Saturday to celebrate the opening of Soleil and I would love for you to come."

Jean could see the apprehension in Rainey's eyes as she glanced up at Aidan. She bit her lip and twisted her hands together. 'A beauty,' Jean thought, watching her. 'Round in all of the right places with full lips and, my God, those huge, pool-deep eyes.' 

He cast a quick look at Aidan who looked less than pleased at the attention Jean was showing Rainey. 'Interesting…'he thought.

"I don't know…" Rainey began, but Jean quickly took hold of her hand and pressed it against his chest. " Si vous-plait, Rainey. I've been in this cloudy city for weeks now and have not found anyone as lovely as yourself to converse with. You can't deny me the pleasure of your company." He looked deep into her eyes, ignoring Aidan's impatient shifting next to him. "Say you'll come."

She bit her lip again. 'Lord what a lovely habit that is,' the Frenchman thought.

"Yes, I'll come," she said at last. "On one condition."

"Name it," Jean said quickly, curious to know what she would ask.

"I…" she hesitated for a moment. "Would you mind terribly if I brought a friend with me? She always raves about your clubs and she would love to meet you."

"If she is even half as lovely as you, my dear, I would be delighted." He kissed her hand again and released her.

"Are you through?" Aidan was looking at Jean with a controlled heat in his eyes.

"For now," Jean replied, smiling benignly.

"Good," Aidan said shortly, then took Rainey's elbow again. "I'd better get you home," he said and led her away, giving a curt nod of farewell to Jean.

It was pouring down rain when they finally made it outside and Aidan looked down at Rainey to see that she'd wrapped her arms tightly around herself to ward off the chill. He didn't have a coat to offer her, so he put his arm over her shoulder and drew her close to him in an effort to shield her from the cold. If his stomach clenched a little at having her so near him or his heart rate sped up a bit as he felt the soft curves of her body settle against the hard planes of his own, well, he just didn't pay any attention to that.

Rainey held herself as tense as she could against Aidan's side. Despite the rain she could smell his cologne; it was a spicy, fresh scent that fit him perfectly. Her head was pressed tightly against his chest and she could hear his heartbeat. 

When he said, "We'd better run unless we want to get soaked," the sound of his voice rumbled up from inside him like muted thunder. Rainey shivered.

He must have felt the tremor because he tightened his hold on her, saying, "We're almost there."

'Thank you, God,' she thought.

He led her to a dark green Saturn and unlocked her door for her, holding it open until she'd settled herself inside, then he came around and got in the driver's seat. After Rainey gave him directions to her college campus all was silent inside the car as he started the engine and back out of the parking spot.

Rainey's insides were in turmoil. How could everything become so complicated in so short a time, she wondered. When Aidan was just the gorgeous guy who came around the office every once in a while, things were okay. She was free to fantasize about him as much as she wanted because fantasies never hurt anyone.

But, she thought on a sigh, now that she'd talked to him and he'd been so nice to her…now that he'd touched her…well, how could she go backwards from that? The worst part was knowing that he hadn't really meant the things he'd said. Or at least not in the way that Rainey longed for him to mean them. He'd told her that she was beautiful but she knew he didn't meant it in a romantic way. What he'd said was something that a brother would say to make a sister feel better about herself, or the platonic words that a friend would give another friend.

Even so, she couldn't keep them out of her heart entirely and that's what scared her. She peeked at him out of the corner of her eye and felt her stomach give that now familiar little flutter. Getting to know Aidan, she realized, could only lead to a broken heart for her. She was too much of a dreamer to keep herself from believing the things he said to her and too much of a romantic not to hope that he might be able to feel the same things for her that she felt for him. 

She leaned her head back against the seat and stared out at the shiny city streets turned into murky mirrors by the rain. Yes, she told herself, it would be better if she stayed away from him from now on so she could protect her heart. But, when she remembered the way it felt to have him hold her hand and tell her so quietly that she was beautiful, she was afraid that not dreaming about Aidan would be easier said than done.

Aidan knew Rainey was deep in thought, he only wished he could ask her what so consumed her mind. Tonight had been one of the most surprising and enjoyable nights of his life. It had been an unbalancing one as well. The last thing he'd expected to find when he'd looked up from that bar was Rainey standing across the room looking like a descended goddess.

But he had. And he'd had to talk to her. There was something about her that drew him in, it was almost hypnotic, the way he was so enthralled by her. Her eyes. Her mouth. Her scent. The way she moved. 'She's just a kid,' he'd repeated to himself over and over during the last few hours.

He knew it wasn't true. She had a hidden font of sensuality that she'd yet to discover. He glanced over at her as he drove. In the darkness of the car he could make out the curve of her cheek, the arch of her neck leading down into the ripe swell of her breasts. He looked away quickly. When she discovered that sexuality…God help the man she set her sights on.

A fierce, unexpected bolt of possessiveness shot through him at the thought of any man besides him touching her. He knew it was insane. He barely knew her and yet...he wanted her. The truth was right there in front of him and he groaned inwardly at the realization.

It had been so long since he'd wanted anyone this way. 

Since Julia. 

Her name slinked its way into his thoughts making his stomach twist disturbingly. He tried to push it away but some part of him wouldn't let it go. 

He'd been so young, so in love. Brown eyes and long, blonde hair recalled themselves to him as he thought of her, of Julia. It had been months since he'd reflected on his past with the girl he'd grown up loving. The girl he'd given his heart to only to have her tear it into shreds without a backward glance.

Why did he think of her now?

Looking at Rainey again, he realized it was because this nineteen-year-old woman, with her shy smiles and searching eyes, had begun to reach into a place he hadn't let open in four years. The only irony was that she didn't even know how she affected him.

He pulled into the parking lot of Rainey's college and cut the engine. They sat in silence until Rainey raised her head from the seat and looked at him. Even in the darkness, Aidan could see the clear color of her eyes and his hands tightened involuntarily on the steering wheel.

"Thank you for the ride," she said in a voice that was barely above a whisper.

They sat staring at each other for long moments, unanswered, indecipherable questions passing between them in the quiet, dark interior of the car. Finally, to his relief, she looked away and he sucked in a deep, steadying breath.

"No problem," he said as he watched her undo her seatbelt. When she reached with her right hand to open the car door, he covered the hand she still had resting on the seat between them with his own. 

"Rainey." 

That was all he said. That was as far as he would allow his thoughts to go. 

She turned to look at him but didn't answer. Her eyes were full of an anxiety and fear that matched his own.

Of their own volition, his eyes fell to her lips. He wanted to taste her. To pull her plump lower lip between his teeth and suck until he made her whimper. He wanted his tongue pressed hotly against hers, so deep, so fast, so fiercely that he'd never forget the taste of her.

But he held back, watching her watch him.

Before he could stop himself, he raised his hand to her mouth and with an index finger that shook a little, he gently stroked the bottom lip that so tormented him. Back and forth. Over and over. 

He had no idea how long they sat there like that, his body trembling with unexplainable emotion coursing through it and her looking at him with those dark eyes. It wasn't until he heard her inhale a shaky breath that the heady moment was broken and he stopped what he was doing.

His hand dropped to rest near hers on the seat. But he didn't touch her, afraid of what he might do if he did.

"You'd better hurry so you don't get too wet," he said.

She nodded, her eyes held his for a second longer then she opened the car door and disappeared into the night.

The smell of her--lilies and something that was uniquely Rainey hung in the air.

Placing both of his hands on the steering wheel when she'd gone, he closed his eyes and tried to slow his heartbeat down. It was several minutes before he succeeded.

'Aidan, what are you doing,' he asked himself. 

His unsteady breathing and the sound of the rain pounding against the car was his only answer.



Rainey's Song Ch. 04



Readers: I apologize for taking so long with this chapter but work/school must come first--at times. As always, thanks for the feedback and interest. Happy reading!

*

"This is a bad idea." 

Gray sunlight trickled through the blinds on the window behind Lyn Viglio's desk, making a bar-pattern against Aidan's blue t-shirt. He stared hard at Lyn as she took in his reaction to her request—an unbelievably unreasonable request in Aidan's opinion.

Lyn, despite her diminutive size, had a backbone of steel and she returned Aidan's dark gaze with a steady one of her own. "Aidan, I really don't see what the problem is," she said, tapping the end of a black ballpoint pen against the stack of photos he'd handed her when he came in.

Aidan sighed, running a hand over his face. He felt like hell and was sure he looked it. He hadn't slept the night before. He'd been too busy listing all of the reasons why he couldn't be attracted to Rainey. When his alarm finally went off at 7am, he'd gotten to nine—she was too young, he was too old, they worked together...sort of—before he realized that it wasn't doing him any good. The attraction was there; it was like something haunting him, an addiction that he couldn't shake.

The hell of it was that he couldn't figure out *why.* What was it about her? He'd known women who were much more beautiful, ten times more outgoing and just all around more sexually appealing in every sense of the term. 

Rainey was nothing like them. And that's what intrigued him; her purity was what made him want her.

'You're a sicko,' he told himself. She was just a kid. It was no wonder she was so innocent and pure. The world hadn't had the chance to tear her down. She'd never been in love, never known the depths of passion—that much he could tell from the frightened look in her eyes when he'd touched her.

God, when he'd touched her...

When she'd left him alone in his car on Saturday night he was sure that she had no idea how close to pulling her down beneath him he'd been or how much he'd wanted to palm those full breasts. Feel her nipples harden to taut little beads beneath his touch. 

Swallowing the knot of frustration forming in his throat he shifted in his chair. This desire he had for her, it was just carnal and lust-driven. There was nothing behind it. There couldn't be. He didn't even know her. 

Just wanted her so damn much that he hadn't stopped aching for her since Saturday. It was Monday now and when he'd gotten into his car to drive to work this morning he'd sworn that her smell still floated in the air. He'd driven with the windows down even though it was raining.

That was when he made the decision to stay away from her. He knew he couldn't control himself when he was around her, so it'd be better if he just didn't see her for a while. He could email most of his work to Lyn and have a courier drop off his photos. When it was absolutely necessary that he come to the office he'd make morning visits since Rainey usually worked in the afternoons.

It could work, he told himself. He could get over this drugging, frightening need he'd seemed to develop overnight. It would just take some time.

"Aidan are you even listening to me," Lyn's voice cut into his thoughts, and the favor, the hideously ironic favor, she'd just asked of him slammed back into his face. His plan *would* have worked if it wasn't for what Lyn was proposing. 

He started shaking his head in denial. "No, I haven't been listening at all. I've been thinking about what a bad idea this is."

Lyn stopped tapping the pen and steepled her hands on the table, regarding him over the point made by her short fingers. "All I'm asking is for you to tutor Rainey. Show her the ins and outs of what it is to be a freelancer. I want her to get an idea of what goes into putting a whole story together from beginning to end." She pursed her lips. "Give me one good reason why it's such a bad idea and I'll drop it."

Aidan swore silently. He could give her half a dozen reasons why it was a terrible idea as well as a dangerous one. For him as well as Rainey. But they were reasons that didn't really fit into the confines of the workplace. All he could come up with was, "It'll interfere with her classes. You know how my schedule is, Lyn. I can't drag her around with me when she has school all day." He breathed a sigh of relief at the valid argument, but the smile Lyn gave him made him wary.

"Have you really been out of college that long, Aidan?" The dumbfounded look he gave her was proof enough that he was confused. Lyn sighed and rolled her eyes skyward as if Aidan were a child to whom things had to be explained slowly and simply. "Her spring break starts today. She's out of school for two weeks so you can, as you put it, feel free to drag her to as many remote locations as you want. Unless," she looked at him with a smug smile, "you have any more *good* objections."

'Damn,' Aidan thought. 

He could just flat out refuse to do it but Lyn would want to know why and there really wasn't a valid answer that he could give her. So he sat in silence.

Lyn, taking his stillness for anger at his being thwarted said, "Okay, if you don't want her in your hair all of the time then..." she waved a hand vaguely in the air, several silver bangle bracelets sparkled in the sunlight. "...just have her transcribe the tapes of your notes from any interviews you do. You're always talking about how you have trouble meeting deadlines because you can barely read your notes. Or, have her help you with developing some of your photos for the next issue. Just make sure she gets an idea of what it's like to work on a story this size."

He felt a twinge of hope spark to life at Lyn's suggestion. If that's all she wanted, he could pass a few words of advice on to Rainey, as quickly as possible, when he was in the office and drop off a few tapes for her to transcribe. It could work. Relieved at the prospect that his plans hadn't been completely destroyed, he rose to leave. "Alright, I'll do it," he said quickly before he could change his mind.

Lyn smiled and stood to walk him to the door. "I knew you would. This is really going to do you both a lot of good. Rainey can get experience and you can hone your skills." With a pained grimace, Aidan tried not to think about the connotation Lyn's last sentence held if taken out of context. He ended up balling his left hand into a fist to keep the thought at bay. 

"Sure," he said tightly, "I'll drop off some tapes later on today and..."

Lyn cut him off, her brow furrowed. "That's not going to work, Aidan."

"Why not?"

She rolled her eyes. "Look, I know you're getting up in the years," she said sarcastically, "but you really need to work on your observation skills. Rainey doesn't have a computer here," she said slowly. "Hell, we can barely make room for her on the draft table when crunch time really hits."

"Well, what are we supposed to do," he asked. "You said to have her do some tapes for me, so how's she supposed to..."

Again, Lyn interrupted him. "Not to state the obvious but, you work from home. You have a computer at home," she ticked off items on her fingers as she listed them. "Your tapes are at home. Your notes are at home. Therefore..." she trailed off giving him a look that said, 'Fill in the blank.'

He was already shaking his head at her. "No way. I'm not taking Rainey to my apartment."

Lyn let out an exasperated breath, but Aidan cut her off before she could argue. "I'm not doing it, Lyn. I barely have the time to *mentor* her," he said, stressing the word sarcastically. "There's no way I can ferry her around with me, too. You're going to have to find someone else to baby-sit."

His hand was on the doorknob when Lyn asked in a quiet voice that he'd heard his mother use a thousand times when she was laying on the guilt trip, "How long have you been freelancing with Rhapsody Swept, Aidan?"

"Two years," he said, knowing exactly where she was going with the question.

Nodding slowly, she idly played with the collection of bracelets on her wrist. "And it was me who gave you a chance back then, wasn't it? Fresh from college with barely any experience, but I saw something in the writing sample you submitted and I took a gamble on you. Rainey," she said, looking up into his face with a serious expression, "she reminds me of you. Only she needs someone to prod her into letting go. Her writing is exceptional now, considering that she's a college freshman, but there's something underneath all of that that if she can find a way to let it out, she'll be spectacular." She paused, taking in Aidan's tense stance. "I'm asking you, as your boss and as your former mentor, to help her find herself as a writer."

He closed his eyes and said a silent fervent prayer. Damn Lyn for pulling the 'I gave you a chance when no one else would' card; he couldn't say no to that. And he couldn't say no when Lyn spoke of Rainey's talents--all the beauty hidden just beneath the surface—not when he'd thought the same thing about her himself. Swearing quietly, he ignored the look of triumph on Lyn's face when she knew she'd won. 

"Now that we have that settled" she began, opening her office door, "let's see if Rainey's here yet. I asked her to come in early so we could..."

"She's here," Aidan asked. "She knew about this?" He stood in Lyn's way as she tried to move past him.

"No," she said. "I just called her last night and asked her to come in early today. I mean, I wasn't even sure if I could convince you to do it." She smiled at the perturbed look on his face and patted his hand. "Although I was pretty much certain that I could." She tried to peer around his shoulder to see into the outer office. "Aidan, will you move it," she said, pushing at his arm.

He stepped aside to let her pass, trying hard to ignore the intricate knots that his stomach began to tie when he heard Lyn call out to Rainey. Turning in the doorway he could see her across the room. She'd just come off of the elevator and was hanging her coat on the rack near the entrance to the office. Her back was to him as he watched her, but even so, he could imagine her face. Her eyes. Her smell. 

His head began to pound. 

Time. That's all he needed, but Lyn wasn't giving him any. Maybe if he had a little while to prepare himself he would be okay with the whole mentoring idea, but it was all falling into his lap in such rapid succession that he felt like he couldn't see straight. Then Rainey turned around, smiling down at Lyn. Her hair was down around her shoulders, falling in haphazard waves that made him itch to sink his fingers into them. 

She saw him then, while his eyes were still burning with the need to touch her. Across the room, their gazes caught and held. He saw a look of uncertainty pass across her face as Lyn began to lead her toward him. Wariness was visible in the way she moved. Her hands fidgeted with each other and her eyes were darting around, she couldn't seem to decide what to focus on—her only consensus apparently being that she wouldn't look at him.

The pulse at his temple was beating with insane vigor and his palms were sweaty. It was like he'd regressed to being an unsure teenager, an inexperienced kid who'd never felt desire for a woman before. 'She's dangerous,' he thought. The words were an unconscious statement but, once formed, he knew it was true. His reaction to her was unsettling. She could get to him, he realized. And that was the one thing he didn't want in his life. 

Vulnerability. He'd given that to someone else, a long time ago and almost hadn't made it through the aftermath of such a monumental mistake.

Rainey might still be a kid, he told himself, but he sure as Hell wasn't. Above all, he had control of himself and his own emotions. He had to. For both their sakes, he thought, as Lyn and Rainey came to a stop in front of him. 

"So, Aidan," Lyn began, "I was just telling Rainey about your agreeing to mentor her." She paused, waiting for either one of them to comment on the situation. 

Neither spoke. 

On an exasperated exhalation Lyn tossed her short, black hair. "Oh, for the love of God," she exclaimed. "You're both acting like I'm asking you to hand over your right arm. I know you don't really know each other that well, but you'll get to and eventually you'll see that this is a good idea."

Rainey, who'd been staring at the floor up until then, turned to Lyn. "But...don't you think it's kind of unfair to...to Aidan," she asked, hesitating as she said his name. "I'm sure he's busy and he doesn't have time to come back and forth between the office and his apartment just to mentor me."

At her words, Aidan realized that Lyn obviously hadn't filled her in on the whole plan she'd strong-armed Aidan into agreeing to. Despite himself, he was curious to see Rainey's reaction.

"He said the same thing," Lyn flicked her thumb in Aidan's direction, "but, being the wonderful, forward-thinking editor-in-chief that I am, I solved that problem. So," she paused, giving them both a benevolent smile, "you're going to work with Aidan at his apartment. That way you can see what it's like to be a freelancer and you'll get an idea of how things come together both inside and outside of the office."

A look of horror crossed Rainey's face and Aidan almost smiled because he was sure he'd had the same expression on his face when Lyn revealed her plan to him earlier. Shaking her head, Rainey began an anxiety-driven protest. "No, I can't, Lyn. The mentoring I can do but..."

The sound of Lyn's phone ringing interrupted the protest. Hurrying past Aidan who still stood in the doorway, Lyn crossed her office and pulled the receiver from its cradle.

"This is Lyn," she said in her raspy, business-like tone. "Oh, Delilah," she said, sitting on the edge of her desk, "thanks for getting back to me. I'm having some trouble with the new printer and I need it fixed as soon as possible. I already talked to Bob over at the print shop and..." she fell silent as the woman on the other end responded. Looking up at Aidan and Rainey who were still standing in the doorway, she covered the receiver and whispered, "I want you guys to get started today. Aidan, just have her help you with your story about Seattle attractions." Signaling him to close the door, she went back to her phone conversation leaving Rainey and Aidan to stand in uncomfortable silence.

Rainey felt like she was going to die. And if the insane beating of her heart was any indication, it would be in a pool of idiotic mush right in front of Aidan. When Lyn had called her last night to ask if she would mind coming in early, she really hadn't minded. The phone call was actually a blessing to her muddled mind since she hadn't been able to think about anything but Aidan and the look in his eyes when he'd dropped her off on Saturday. 

Even though it was a stupid, fanciful thing to reflect on, she remembered the expression on his face and the intensity that made his eyes look so bright and vibrant against the shadowed planes of his face. It had almost been like he wanted her.

Dismissing the thought as foolish wishful thinking, she'd made the decision to just stop thinking about him completely. It was that dwelling on every single second—which she had done despite herself—that was going to be a problem. All she could do was think about him, wonder what he was doing, wish she could see him...and dread the moment when she actually would see him. It was worse because she never knew when he'd show up at the office and settle those blue eyes on her.

Those eyes. They were fixed on her now.

Once again, he was watching her as she thought about him. 'I've got to stop doing this,' she thought, passing a hand through her hair and absent-mindedly tucking a few tendrils of hair behind her ear. She licked her lips as he kept staring at her. Why wouldn't he stop?

Apparently, her wariness showed on her face because he blew out a short breath that was somewhere between laughter and exasperation. With a wry half-smile, he shoved his hands deep into his pockets, pulling the fabric tight across the groin of a pair of jeans that fit him snugly enough that she could see the contours of his slim waist and the quiescent strength of his thighs. A wave of unbidden heat flooded across Rainey's face and she quickly flicked her gaze away from him.

'Damn you, Lyn,' she thought viciously. Although she knew her tiny boss was just trying to help her get over her shyness, she'd picked the worst possible person to play the mentor. There was something about Aidan that made Rainey uncomfortable, made her feel like she'd do things she normally wouldn't when she was with him and that scared her. It wouldn't surprise her to find that he'd seduced a lot of women into doing things they didn't think they would. She definitely didn't want to be added to his list of conquests.

"I guess we'd better get going," he said hesitantly. "You don't have anything that you need to bring do you?"

Shaking her head, Aidan knew she had no idea the affect that the shifting of her loose, brunette mane did to his insides, the way his stomach seemed to be an ever-tightening knot of need. 

"Just my coat," she said, and started toward the elevator heartily wishing with every step that she wasn't so aware of his form right behind her. 'Stop it, stop it, stop it...,' she yelled at herself but her body, damn it, seemed to have a mind of its own when it came to him.

After she shrugged into her jacket, Aidan punched the elevator button for the first floor and they rode down in silence. In the parking lot, he led her to his car and opened her door for her, waiting for her to settle in. As he rounded the car, Rainey realized that she was chewing her lip to rawness from anxiety. 

Three or four deep breaths had her slightly settled by the time he got in and she turned her face away from him to stare out of the window. How was she going to make it through two weeks with Aidan? Just two days before, she'd already realized that too much time spent with him couldn't be a good idea, now here was fate and the resilient Lyn forcing them together in some twisted little mockery of a work situation. How the hell were they supposed to get any work done when they were both too on edge to even talk?

Rainey was never one to make the first move, at anything, but she couldn't take this amount of tension; it was making her feel like she was going to snap in two. It had to end. Allowing her eyes to slide shut she made a decision. It was a hard decision and it took all of her being, all of her concentration and willpower to come to—she decided to be Aidan's friend. And to do that, she'd have to talk to him, which meant starting a conversation to end this God-awful silence. 

With a deep breath and a whispered prayer for inspiration, she turned to look at Aidan who seemed to have developed a single-minded interest in the Seattle traffic. Wracking her brain for something—anything—to say she lighted upon the first lucid conversation topic that popped into her head.

"So, Lyn told me that you're horribly disorganized."

Aidan's mouth quirked a bit at the edges and, to her surprise, she immediately felt the tension lessen just a bit. He didn't take his eyes from the road. "Lyn has a tendency to exaggerate." Tilting her head a little to the side she took in his profile, unconsciously allowing herself to enjoy the prominence of his cheekbones, the little shadow of stubble on his jaw, those dark blue eyes.

"Your eyelashes are longer than mine," she said before she had the chance to think about it. Embarrassment swept through her and she squeezed her eyes shut as she realized that she'd as good as admitted to staring at him like some lovesick little girl. The sound of his chuckling only made it worse.




Rainey's Song Ch. 04



"Thanks," he drawled. "I think I'll take that as a compliment."

Peeking her left eye open she couldn't hold back her laughter when she looked at him, only to find that he'd turned toward her and was fluttering his eyelashes like some coquettish male version of Betty Boop. "Okay, that's pushing it a little," she grinned.

"I figured," he smiled and glanced at her. "I may have long eyelashes," he said, making Rainey laugh again as he made a face at the statement, "but your eyes—they're amazing."

Ignoring the shiver that ran through her, Rainey rolled the eyes in question and leaned her head against the seat. "They're green," she said as if that one sentence explained it all.

Obviously it didn't because Aidan looked over at her with a bemused expression on his face. "So what?"

"No one has green eyes. I grew up feeling like a freak. All of my cousins," she tossed a hand out in front of her in a vague gesture, "every single one of them are blonde, blue-eyed All-American automatons."

"And you want to be an automaton," Aidan asked as he slowly pulled the car off of the road and parked in front of a quaint, brick apartment complex ringed by stately evergreens and shimmering lawns of rain-kissed grass. Rainey hadn't been aware of the fact that they were already at his apartment because she was so caught up in their conversation. It was a strange feeling for her to lose herself completely with someone that she barely knew. She'd yet to decide whether she liked this new phenomenon.

Quiet settled around them as he shut off the engine and sat watching her, and then she realized that she hadn't answered his question. "No, I don't want to be an automaton," she said. "It's just that my grandpa--my mom's dad--was Italian so I inherited my coloring and hair from him while the rest of my family, my aunts and uncles and my dad—all Irish. So, it was kind of hard growing up. My cousins always teased me and told me I was adopted."

Aidan couldn't hide his snicker of amusement but when she looked at him with an incredulously raised eyebrow, he held up a hand and schooled his features into a look of seriousness. "I'm sorry, that's not funny." But the grin broke through again and Rainey found herself laughing along with him.

"It is a little funny," she said thoughtfully. "My mom always used to say, 'What doesn't kill you will only make you stronger.'"

"I bet that didn't help at all, did it?"

She shook her head and laughed. "Nope. I was eight years old; I could have cared less about some useless colloquialism. But, I guess she was trying to toughen me up. I *did* tend to cry a lot."

Aidan's ensuing burst of laughter sent haphazard shivers down her spine. "We definitely wouldn't have gotten along as kids. I was a royal terror. God, I can only wonder how my mom got me out of all of the trouble I got in."

"I can imagine,' Rainey said, regarding him from beneath her lashes. 

He leaned into her, casually resting his right arm along the back of her seat. "Can you? So, what kind of kid do you think I was?"

Rainey pretended to think long and hard, drawing her lower lip between her teeth in a way that had Aidan's blood boiling. "I think you were...mischievous and loud. I had a neighbor boy like you. He'd always climb out fence and pick apples off of our tree."

He gave her that half-there smile again. "I might have climbed a few fences in my day. But that's part of being a kid."

Shaking her head, Rainey played with the zipper on her jacket. " I never climbed trees or fences or anything. I was too afraid I'd fall and my mom would kill me for ruining my clothes."

His chuckle was low-pitched and unassumingly attractive. "Wow, sounds like you needed some adventure."

"If adventure is synonymous with anything that involved my getting dirty and/or bloody, it was out for me," she threw back, wryly. "My mom's a clean freak, and believe me, you don't want to piss off an Italian woman."

"I'll keep that in mind," Aidan said, then peered up through the windshield at a gray, angry-looking sky. "In the meantime, I think we'd better get inside before it starts raining."

At his words, Rainey unclipped her seatbelt and got out of the car. He came around and led her toward the far end of the complex where they climbed a set of stone stairs with a wrought-iron railing to his apartment. He unlocked the door and held it open for her to precede him inside. Everything was quiet and still, cast in dark shadows as he moved past her, laying his keys on a small table in the entryway, and flipped on the lights.

She wasn't sure what she'd expected his home to be. Aidan was a bachelor, so maybe mismatched furniture, dishes piled near the sink and random debris scattered here and there, but he surprised her. The entryway held a closet on the left and opened up to the kitchen on the right, which, Rainey saw, wasn't a haphazard mess at all. She noted with interest that the refrigerator was nearly covered with pictures that she couldn't make out from this distance.

Making her way down the short hall and into the living room, she smiled when she saw that his furniture was indeed mismatched but not at all in the way that she had envisioned. A deep blue, overstuffed couch rested against the near wall, facing a large, flat-screen TV on the opposite wall. The glass-topped coffee table in front of the couch was flanked by an apparently well-used recliner on one side and a blue-and-white love seat situated beneath a picture window on the other. 

The corner between the couch and the loveseat was filled by a dark oak bookshelf full of dog-eared novels that drew Rainey toward them like a beacon. Running her fingers over the row of books directly before her gaze, she read the titles out loud, "The Complete Works of William Shakespeare, The Da Vinci Code, Leaves of Grass, Siddhartha, Atlas Shrugged, Crime and Punishment..." She stopped and turned to look at Aidan who was standing near the couch watching her. 

"You know," she said," you could almost teach a high school English class just from the books you've got here."

Coming toward her, he tossed his coat over the arm of the couch and smiled. "Almost? The collection isn't complete?"

Tilting her head, Rainey turned back to the books. "No...it seems like you're missing all of the boring ones. So, pretty much the ones I skimmed in high school."

Her back was still to Aidan but she knew he was smiling when he asked, "Which ones would those be?"

"The Grapes of Wrath, Heart of Darkness..." she laughed as he groaned his agreement of the mediocrity of the books she'd listed. "God, somewhere, my English teacher would probably have a heart attack to hear me put down the classics," she said, a guilty expression on her face.

Aidan shrugged. "You can't win with everyone." Nodding her head in agreement, she said, "True. And Heart of Darkness definitely wasn't a winner with me."

The air seemed to crackle with invisible electricity as Aidan drew closer to her and their shoulders brushed together. She still had her jacket on so her skin didn't even touch his, even so, she was shocked to find that her pulse sped up at the light whisper of his body against hers.

"And here I was with the impression that you were the model student, straight A's and community service," he said quietly, resting an elbow on a lower level of the shelf.

Struggling to hide her reaction to him and an inward cringe at the fact that he'd pegged her so completely, she flipped through the pages of an instructional book about photography. "What gave you that idea?"

"You're just so quiet and...I don't know...dutiful?"

Closing the book with a snap she looked at him like he'd insulted her. "Dutiful?"

From the look on her face, Aidan didn't know whether he should back away or laugh. Instead, he shrugged a shoulder. "Okay, that kind of came out the wrong way..." he began.

"Yeah, you make me sound like some 1950's housewife off of 'Father Knows Best."

On a laugh he held up his hands like he was preparing to protect himself should she decide to slug him. "That's not what I meant. It's just that you seem like the kind of person who always followed the rules."

Replacing the book on the shelf and she cast an appraising glance over him. "As opposed to you who was, let me guess... a lady's man, an athlete, everybody's best friend. Too cool for school but your teachers loved you despite it?"

"I was not a lady's man," he protested, and then grinned sheepishly when she gave him a look of disbelief. "Okay, maybe I was for a while, but then Julia and I got together and..." He stopped talking abruptly. Damn, how had she wriggled herself back into the picture? It had been fine, just him and Rainey, with her finally talking to him and looking him in the eye instead of cringing away from every word he said like it was the end of the world.

Years, Aidan thought, it had been years since he'd even considered being friends with a woman and now, when he was at that point Rainey, thoughts of Julia and all the ways she'd hurt him came flooding back. He felt himself sinking behind a wall of nonchalance to hide his darkening mood.

Rainey felt the shift, though. She could see it in his face, the way he seemed to be fighting some inner battle against himself. He'd mentioned a woman's name—Julia. Someone from his past, that much Rainey understood, and from the subtle way he seemed to tense up and withdraw from the light banter they'd been sharing she knew it was something he'd like to stay in the past. Still, she wanted to ask him what happened. Get him to talk to her, but she was already overwhelmed by the fact that she was able to talk to *him* so easily. How was she supposed to get *him* to talk to *her*?

Clearing his throat Aidan went into the kitchen through a swinging door to the side of the couch, asking as he went, "Do you want something to drink?" Not knowing what else to do, Rainey followed him and watched from the doorway as he opened the refrigerator.

"Um, what do you have," she asked.

Caught up in his rummaging, his head disappeared behind the door and his voice was a little muffled when he answered. "Looks like...a couple of beers, white grape juice and..." he shifted some things around, "...an industrial-size bottle of V8 juice that my mom keeps insisting that I drink."

"I'll take the grape juice," Rainey said on a laugh and when he'd poured them both a glass, grabbing an apple for himself, they went back into the living room and sat down on the couch. "Does your mom live in the city," Rainey asked as he took a bite of the apple.

Shaking his head, he swallowed before answering. "She's over in Bellevue," he said, referring to a town about twenty minutes outside of Seattle. "But that doesn't stop her from dropping in on me at random moments to fill me in on the latest happenings in her life, fill my fridge with V8 juice and nag me about not dating."

"Sounds like my mom," Rainey said, taking a sip from her glass before putting it down on the coffee table. She relaxed against the plump couch cushions and let her head sink into them. "I love her to death, but..."

"Sometimes, it'd be nice if she'd just butt out," Aidan finished for her and they both laughed. Without thinking about it, he stretched his arm across the back of the couch so that his hand was a breath away from Rainey's head. Stray tendrils of her hair tickled his hand and he couldn't resist the urge to touch her. Reaching down, he wrapped a few strands around his index and middle finger, stroking slowly with his thumb.

The feel of his hand in her hair distracted Rainey. There were a few inches of space between them so the only parts of their bodies that touched were his fingertips and her hair but she felt like he'd caressed her from head to foot. Her stomach pitted and rolled and she had trouble keeping up her end of the conversation. 

"Exactly. When...when I was leaving for college she got all panicky and gave me advice about dating...as if I'd need it." She glanced up at Aidan and felt an odd mix of pleasure and discomfort at the look on his face; he was completely absorbed by his hand on her hair and she almost thought he hadn't heard her.

"Why wouldn't you," he asked. His voice had taken on a low timbre that gave her a light dusting of goose bumps.

"Why wouldn't I, what?" Rainey licked her suddenly dry lips and felt a fine sweat break out all over her body as she saw Aidan's eyes move to her mouth. His eyes came to hers, that piercing blue that seemed to burn into her flesh, and she completely forgot what they were talking about. He let her question hang in the air unanswered.

Aidan was a man who prided himself on his self-control and level thinking. They were two of the things that made him such a good journalist: when a story was falling apart, he kept his cool and found a solution to the problem. With Rainey the solution wasn't only unclear, there just didn't seem to be one. Well, there was one he could think of but that would end up leading them down roads best left undiscovered. 

Even as that prudent thought occurred to him, he was beginning to find that prudence and self-control didn't mean a damn thing when it came to Rainey. Every single stitch of logical thinking flew out of his mind when she was close to him and her scent was assaulting his senses. He wanted her. He admitted to himself bluntly and not without an inner battle, but when he locked his gaze with hers—those gorgeous green eyes—he knew that she could see the desire glowing in his eyes. He didn't care.

Rainey couldn't breathe. Every ounce of awareness seemed to be swallowed up by her nearness to Aidan and the intense way he was looking at her. It had to be some kind of...mistake, didn't it? He couldn't really be staring at her with such undisguised need, could he? Her heart began to pound violently in her chest as a single thought occurred to her: he wants me.

Instead of pleasure, the realization sparked a belly-deep panic. Aidan wasn't the kind of guy someone like her dated. He was the prom king prototype, the athlete, the sex god, for God's sake. Not the sweet, quiet, average guy she'd always imagined herself settling for; someone down to earth who would understand that she had more to offer than love handles. No, Aidan wasn't what she'd prepared herself for and she could hardly be sure what he wanted from her—all she knew was that anything she had with him would lead to a broken heart. 

Realizing what a huge mistake it would be if she sat there letting him touch her for much longer, she slid away from him as quickly as she could, forcing him to let her hair slide out from between his fingers. Standing up, Rainey walked awkwardly around the coffee table in a desperate effort to put some space between them. Her heartbeat pounded violently in her ears and her skin was tingly; they were two sensations that she was beginning to associate with being near Aidan. 

She kept her back to him; her arms wrapped tightly around her upper body, and willed herself to calm down. Willed him to say something—anything—to ease the tension hanging in the air. Seconds dragged on imperceptibly until she heard him let out a heavy breath and push himself up from the couch. 

"My office is back here," he said, walking around the other side of the coffee table—leaving space between them—and heading down a hall to the left.

Having no choice but to follow, Rainey trailed after him, biting her lip and silently cursing herself for acting like such an idiot. Men touched women all the time, so why had she acted like he'd palmed her breast when all he'd done was play with her hair? She could have been a little more sophisticated, couldn't she? *Stupid, stupid, stupid...* she thought to herself.

The words flashing through Aidan's head were much more severe. Why the hell couldn't he just leave her alone? He couldn't seem to control himself and that was something that he couldn't live with; self-control was everything to him. It'd be better if he just pretended like nothing had happened—-again.

Pushing open a door at the end of the hallway, he turned to Rainey with an uncomfortable whisper of a smile. "Promise that you won't judge the system."

"What?" Her eyebrows rose at the strange request. Inside the room, his hand fiddled with the light switch, but he hesitated to turn it on. "I have a...unique filing system. I just figured I'd warn you." With that, he turned the light on and stepped into the room.

Rainey's brow furrowed in confusion, but she followed him inside. The room was white-walled, but it was far from plain, with long, narrow tables lining three of the four walls. The furthest one nearly overflowed with paperwork and photography equipment, while the other two tables seemed ready to split under the weight of half a dozen lawyer boxes.

The wall with the window was home to a black, metal desk and an expensive-looking leather desk chair. On it, Aidan's laptop was nearly covered by papers and random black-and-white photo prints, a few old issues of magazines he'd freelanced for, an AP stylebook and another book called 1001 Synonyms for the Lazy Man.

That, compounded with the sight of a bright red beanbag chair in the near corner, and Rainey's first reaction was laughter. Part of it was amusement at his "system" but the other part was relief; relief that, in getting his office into shape, she'd have something else to think about besides being in *his* house and working side-by-side with *him.*

"What's so funny," Aidan asked with a slight air of defensiveness belied by a huge grin.

"Nothing I..." Rainey scanned the room again. "I thought you said Lyn was exaggerating about you being disorganized."

He flicked a thumb toward his desk. "This isn't disorganization, it's...evidence of my free-spirited personality."

She raised a skeptical eyebrow. "More like your *disorganized* personality."

"Hey," he exclaimed with an amused chuckle, walking over to his desk to rest a hand on the back of his chair. "I thought you said you wouldn't judge the system."

"No," Rainey said, her foot pushing at a brown box on the floor labeled 'Files and Stuff,' "you asked me not to but I definitely never agreed."

He sighed with a dramatic flair, flopping indolently into the leather chair. "Fine. So, I guess that clean-freak streak you mentioned your mom has showed up in you, too, huh?"

"Not really...," she laughed when he gave her a look. "Okay, a little, but I can handle a bit of a mess. But this...how do you ever find anything?"

"Simple. I use the alternating stack system."

"What?"

"You know, you take a stack of papers and lay it down," he picked up a stack of papers from the haphazard array on his desk to illustrate his point, "then, you take another stack and lay it the opposite direction on the first pile."

"And that works for you," she asked, her brow furrowed with a mix of amusement and frustration.

"Perfectly. Well, at least until the stack gets too high and gravity starts taking over." 

He said it with such a serious expression on his face that Rainey couldn't help but laugh at him. "I'm starting to think that Lyn had a point when she told me that you need all the help you can get."

" I'm hurt," he drawled in his thickest English accent, one hand pressed dramatically against his heart.

"Right." Rainey picked up the box closest to her and moved toward the beanbag chair. "I'll just be over here organizing your not-so-unorganized life."

Aidan swiveled in his chair to watch her. "You're just going to sit there and file stuff while I work?"

She didn't look up, just made a face as she pulled a stack of crinkled papers out of the box. "Mm-hmm."

He didn't know if he liked the idea of her being so close to him. His senses were still on edge from that close-call in the living room, but having her sitting there behind him, touching all of his things...that would be a new level of distraction. "You, um, don't want to work in the living room? That recliner out there is like sitting on a marshmallow."




Rainey's Song Ch. 04



"As nice as sitting on a marshmallow sounds," she said, giving him an arch smile that made him wonder where the old Rainey had gone, "I'm going to need to ask you where you want things; which papers are important, what can be thrown out, so..."

"So it's better if you sit right there."

"Exactly. That's not a problem is it? I don't want to distract you."

"No, it's fine; when I start working, I'm gone to the world. I won't even know you're here," he said and turned back to his computer to start working. 

But, over the next two hours, with Rainey's soft voice asking random questions, with her scent filling up a room that had always been "his," and with a continuous churning in the pit of his stomach, Aidan was very much aware that she was there. 



Rainey's Song Ch. 05



Rainey lay wide-awake in bed the next morning. Across the room, she could hear Karen's soft, slow breathing and she knew that she was asleep. For someone who changed guys as much as some people changed their socks, Karen never had a sleepless night.

Not that Rainey was bitter, okay, maybe she was a little bitter, but why did Karen get to have so many no-strings-attached relationships—with her pick of guys—while the first guy that had ever showed interest in Rainey, and sparked her own interest, was completely...untouchable?

Life really could be unfair sometimes. Even when she'd spent all of yesterday morning, nearly five hours, at Aidan's apartment trying to sort out the mess he'd made of his files, half of her concentration had been spent reminding herself that she and Aidan just wouldn't work. 

It was still incredibly strange to think that the guy she'd watched so quietly all of those weeks at the office was interested in her, and he *was* interested. After seeing the way he'd looked at her, the way he'd touched her, she couldn't deny that anymore. 

On a heavy sigh, she turned on her side, the bedsprings groaning faintly in the dimly lit room. As much as she wanted Aidan and wanted to let herself just see what would happen between them, being that outgoing wasn't part of her nature. She was a worrier, supremely paranoid, a subscriber to the school of Murphy's Law: whatever could go wrong would go wrong. 

So, better to keep the whole situation professional, right? Better to stop thinking about the way his blue eyes seemed to bore into her flesh, right?

"Right," she whispered aloud, burrowing her hands beneath her pillow. 

If only she'd gone somewhere for spring break then this whole debacle wouldn't have happened; Lyn wouldn't have been able to force her into spending so much time with Aidan and she could have just forgotten about Saturday night. But, while a lot of people from school had gone to Cancun or Tia Juana for the 10-day break, Rainey hadn't been particularly interested in spending a week and a half with a bunch of drunken semi-acquaintances. 

Her parents would have paid for any trip she wanted to take—"within reason," as her dad had said—but she didn't really have that many friends among the people who'd gone. Add to that the fact that, in her whole life she'd barely had half a dozen drinks, and a spring break spent binge drinking sounded far from appealing.

Karen's parents, on the other hand, were continuously trying to rein their free-spirited daughter in. Instead of giving her a spring break trip, they'd told her that if she "performed well" in classes, they'd send her and her 16-year-old sister to Paris for two weeks over summer.

In Rainey's estimation, it was a brilliant plan to keep Karen focused during the school year and relatively out of trouble during summer break because she'd have her sister to look after her in Paris and besides that, her parents obviously knew that there was nothing their daughter loved more than shopping.

Or a good party, Rainey added mentally, punching an ever-present lump out of her pillow. 

Guiltily, she remembered that she'd yet to tell Karen that Aidan's friend, Jean, had invited them to the grand opening party for his club. As much as she liked to tell herself that it had just slipped her mind, she knew that it was because she really didn't want to go. It would just be one more occasion to find herself in the same room with Aidan.

Aidan. Why couldn't she escape him? His presence had taken over her work life and now, outside of that, when she was supposed to be safe from him, she'd made obligations to see him *and* his charming French friend.

Even in her melancholy mood, the irony was blatant. She made a decision to avoid him at all costs and, in the space of two days, she agreed to attend a party hosted by his best friend and she had to work with him for hours on end.

God, most definitely, is a comedian, she decided on another heavy sigh.

The sound was drowned out by an upbeat beeping noise that grew progressively louder as seconds ticked by.

Karen shifted restlessly in her bed as the sound filled the entire room: Beep-beep-BEEP-beep-BEEP-BEEP-BEEP. 

"Shit," Karen's hoarse voice overshadowed the noise for a moment. Still half-asleep, she fumbled blindly on her nightstand until she found the culprit: her cell phone's alarm clock. Flipping it open, she stabbed violently at a button until the alarm shut off then rolled to her back with a loud yawn.

"Sorry if I woke you up, Rainey," she mumbled, "I just keep forgetting to turn that thing off."

Rainey glanced at the digital clock on her nightstand. 7:50am. Had she slept at all? 

"Don't worry about it." The clearness of Rainey's voice was proof that she'd been awake way before the alarm went off.

"Can't sleep, huh?" Karen guessed. "I keep having dreams about pure white beaches in Mexico. Damn, Seattle. I'm probably missing out on the perfect tan right now."

'If only my problem were that simple,' Rainey thought morosely, but she didn't say anything. At her silence, Karen sat up in bed. In the darkness, Rainey could see the waves of her long black hair fall around her shoulders—she looked like a model with artistically tousled hair in the midst of a shampoo commercial.

"Are you okay," Karen asked, and Rainey almost laughed aloud at the understatement of the question.

"Sure, I'm just thinking too much I guess. I work too hard—"

"You're lying," Karen accused gently. "I'm pretty much awake now, so you may as well tell me what's wrong."

The silence that followed the statement was like a void beckoning Rainey to throw herself in. She could just open up and tell Karen what was bothering her except...except she didn't really know what it was. All she knew was that she was scared of something nameless and lurking. 

Something she could feel festering inside her chest, something that stirred to life whenever she found herself near Aidan.

But, how could she say that to Karen without confusing her or worrying her? How could she say that to anyone without letting on that she was the worst sort of coward, someone afraid to look inside herself for answers? She couldn't, and that was part of the problem.

Instead, she took a page from Karen's parents' book and tried to distract her. "Remember that guy, Aidan, that you met at the club?"

"Of course," Karen exclaimed. "How could anyone with eyes forget that face?"

*Good question...* 

"Well, um, I kind of met his friend that night and, you're not going to believe this...he owns the club."

A full five seconds of silence followed that statement and Rainey almost thought Karen hadn't heard her, then the taller girl launched herself across the room and onto Rainey's bed with such speed that they were both laughing hysterically for minutes.

Karen, who'd landed on her stomach after her mad flight, rolled up to her knees in front of Rainey, both of her hands squeezing Rainey's smaller ones in a death grip. "Did you talk to him," she asked urgently.

Biting back a huge grin, Rainey nodded. "Breathe, Karen, breathe," she teased.

Karen yanked on her hands in a warning. "Screw breathing! Just tell me what happened. Word-for-word. You're sooo lucky that I'm too excited right now to kill you for not telling me about this sooner."

"Well, if it helps, he invited me to a party celebrating the club's opening..." Karen's nails bit into her palms and Rainey decided that, unless she wanted to lose a finger, she'd better stop teasing. "Ow! Okay, okay! We're both going to his party on Saturday."

If the high color in Karen's cheeks was any indication, that was the best news that she'd heard in a long while. As it was, her rapid, "Oh my God-oh my God-oh my God," was proof enough. 

Still on her knees, she bounced joyously while clinging to Rainey's hands. "I'm going to a club party. *I* am going...to a club party." She brought her hands to her mouth to cover her grin. "Oh, I'm so glad I didn't go to Cancun!"

"So, I guess you're excited," Rainey said sarcastically.

"Aren't you?" Karen jumped off of the bed, a bundle of nervous energy even at 8am, and turned on the overhead light. "Why didn't you tell me sooner? I have to get my nails done...do you think I should go tanning?"

With a half smile on her face, Rainey watched Karen bounce excitedly around the room. Okay, so maybe she didn't want to go to the party—ha! What an understatement—but it was nice to see Karen so animated after having been so bummed out about not getting to go anywhere for spring break. 

Besides, maybe with Karen at the party, it wouldn't be so bad. Sure, guys would practically elbow her out of the way in their haste to get to Karen, but at least she could hide from Aidan in the crowd. Besides, Karen, a femme fatale in training, would definitely know every trick in the book for avoiding an unwanted admirer. 

It felt strange to think of Aidan as "unwanted" when she most definitely did want him, but as a lifelong weakness for chocolate proved, just because you wanted something didn't mean it was good for you.

"What time is it," Karen bubbled, only to answer her own question. "8:12. Okay, you have thirty minutes to get dressed."

Rainey snapped to attention. "What? Why?"

"We're going shopping. What time do you have to work today?"

"Um..." dazed, Rainey blinked and tried to think. "Aidan said...he'd call me if he needed me to come over today." The words were no sooner out of her mouth than she realized what she'd said. 

She hadn't told Karen about her working situation with Aidan because she knew she'd take it the wrong way. And, from the wide-eyed expression she turned on Rainey, her guess had been right.

"Why would Aidan call you to come over?" Her left brow, perfectly shaped and the color of coal, arched as she waited for a reply.

Rainey plucked at a stray thread on her comforter but didn't meet Karen's eyes. "I, um, he's kind of..."

"He's kind of, what?" Karen urged.

"Mentoring me."

Silence.

Rainey glanced up to see Karen standing perfectly still, a bath towel in one hand, a bottle of shampoo in the other, and a look of disbelief on her face. 

"Okay, okay...this is way too much for me to take in right now. I...you...this calls for a shower," she said finally. "I'll save a stall for you and I'm giving you five minutes to get your butt in gear. If I don't have the whole story in fifteen minutes, you will pay the consequences." Her threat was somewhat lessened by the fact that she shook a half-empty bottle of Pantene at Rainey like it was a weapon.

Laughing, Rainey stood and started gathering her things to head to the showers. "Fine, fine. I'll be there in three minutes," she assured until Karen left the room to secure the shower stalls. 

On a sigh, Rainey gave in to her fate. She should have known Karen would find out somehow, besides it wasn't as if this was high school and she had to worry about her "crush" being blabbed to the whole school. Above all, Karen was fiercely loyal and, she admitted to herself, she had more "man experience" beneath her belt than Rainey possessed in her little finger. 

Maybe it was time to call in reinforcements when it came to Aidan...figure out how to get him to stop looking at her the way he did. And maybe, she thought as she headed toward the door with her shower caddy in hand, it was time she figured out how to stop letting him affect her.

************************* Three hours later, with six shopping bags dangling from both wrists effectively cutting off circulation, Rainey was reminded just why she hated shopping. Well, that, and the fact that of the six bags on her arms, only two were hers. 

When she'd pointed out to Karen that the party was only bound to be a few hours long, she'd just laughed lightly and said that any shopping trip worth taking was never limited to any one even. And when you had a body like Karen's, Rainey mused, you were never limited to buying the things that just looked "passable."

At the moment, Karen was wandering around the neatly organized racks inside Victoria's Secret and Rainey, exhausted from being on her feet for nearly three straight hours, had wandered out into the mall's main corridor to take a seat on one of the benches directly across from the store. 

Flopping down in a decidedly unladylike pose, she allowed her arms to loll on either side of her body, doing her best to ignore the raw, red lines the bags were etching into her wrists—she was afraid that if she put the bags down she wouldn't be able to pick them up again without help.

A few tendrils of hair dangled into her eyes and she blew them away distractedly, all the while her gaze idly following various passersby. She'd been a people-watcher all her life, always intrigued by the most mundane aspects of strangers' appearances. 

A young woman, large-chested and tired-looking, wandered by with a harassed aura about her as she dragged a fussy toddler behind her by the wrist and used to other hand to push a massive stroller complete with a dozing infant in front of her. 

Am *I* that sour-looking sometimes, Rainey wondered. She supposed that if her life didn't turn out the way she expected it to—if she spent four years in college but somehow ended up in a job or with a husband that didn't fulfill her—she could imagine feeling the way that woman looked, and that was a scary thought. 

Nothing in life was guaranteed; she knew she took too many things for granted, but still, sometimes it was hard to see the good things when there were so many negative aspects battling for importance.

"Aren't you looking all serious and profound." Karen's tinkling laughter snapped Rainey out of her reverie; she'd been so caught up in her thoughts that she hadn't even noticed when Karen had left the store to come join her. With a shrug, Rainey shifted her right arm to make room on the bench for Karen to sit. 

"Well, what do you expect? I'm delirious and exhausted from shopping all day. I was having episodic flashbacks to my bed and sleep."

On a perplexed glance, Karen's brow knitted. "I seriously never thought I'd meet a female who didn't like to shop. You're definitely one of a kind, Rainey."

Rainey's mouth quirked a little. "Is that just a nice way of calling me strange beyond belief?"

Parting her lips to respond, Karen was cut off by a muffled ring tone. "Isn't that..."

"Crap." Rainey jostled the bags on her wrist in a sort of shopping mall version of juggling. "It's my cell phone. Can you reach my purse?"

With a deftness learned through many past shopping experiences, Karen lifted several bags with one hand and found Rainey's purse with the other. The ring tone grew clear as she pulled the phone out: it was a Johan Sebastian Bach concerto. Karen rolled her eyes at Rainey's predictability.

Before Rainey realized what she was going to do, Karen flipped the phone open and chimed out a cheery, "Hiya. Karen speaking." 

Holding her breath, Rainey prayed fiercely that it wasn't Aidan calling because he had some work for her to do.

No such luck. 

"Oh, Aidan," Karen said, her tone taking on a slight seductive edge as her left brow shot upward. "You remember me, don't you? We met—on Saturday, that's right. Uh huh...uh huh..."

Chewing the inside of her cheek to suppress the urge to drop her bags to the floor and snatch the phone from Karen, Rainey instead found herself leaning closer to the phone, half hoping she'd catch a few snippets of what Aidan was saying to Karen. 

Was he talking about her? 

Tilting her head back, Karen laughed loudly. "I know! Well, Rainey tells me that I'll be seeing you and your mystery friend this Saturday at his party. I can't tell you how excited I am. Really...a charmer, is he? Hmm, that makes it all the more interesting because I absolutely *love* guys with accents," she said, winking at Rainey.

Deciding that badly veiled comment was the last straw, Rainey relaxed her wrist, letting half of the bags slither to the floor with the muted sound of crinkling plastic. 

Motioning with her hands, she tried to get Karen to hand the phone over, but she just held a finger up, effectively forcing Rainey to wait because short of tackling her in the middle of the mall, Karen wasn't about to give the phone up until she was good and ready.

"Oh, Rainey? She's..." At the mention of her name, Rainey scooted even closer to Karen and tried to pry the phone from her fingers. "Rainey's...naked at the moment." 

A very-much-clothed Rainey fell back against the bench, her mouth open in abject horror at the words coming out of Karen's mouth. "We're shopping and she's in the dressing room, but here, I'm sure she won't mind talking right now. Just a sec." At last, she handed the cell phone over, with a mischievious grin.

*Are you insane?* Rainey mouthed at her before pressing the phone against her cheek. "H-hello," she croaked.

After a second of silence, Aidan's voice filled her ear and she felt her heartbeat speeding up. "Rainey? Hi. I, um..." 

He sounded so unsure of himself and Rainey found herself smiling as she visualized him sitting in that leather chair in his office, the phone pressed to his ear as he tapped a pen against his knee. The image was so vivid that a shiver ran through her. 

"Uh, Karen said that you're...that you're...in the dressing room, so if this is a bad time I can..."

"No, no, it's fine," Rainey said quickly, feeling her cheeks burn in embarrassment even though she really wasn't naked like he'd been led to believe. "I'm...done now. Did you need me to come over later on?"

"Well, it's nothing urgent. Pretty much just some filing and things, it shouldn't take that long. Does two o'clock work for you?"

Glancing at her watch, she saw that it was a quarter to one. "Sure, two's fine."

"Great. I'll see you."

"Bye." The dial tone sounded in her ear and Rainey let out a breath that she hadn't realized she'd been holding.

Punching her lightly on the upper arm, Karen gave her an open-mouthed grin. "You *like* him!"

"I do not," Rainey protested, leaning down to gather the bags she'd dropped and to shield her face from Karen's eyes.

"You are such a liar," Karen laughed. "There's nothing wrong with having a crush on someone you work with. *Especially* when that someone is freakin' gorgeous and walking around with a British accent tucked away like some secret weapon."

Shaking her head at that unique description of Aidan, Rainey stood up, holding out some of the bags for Karen to take. "Okay, I'll admit he's...gorgeous...but, that whole workplace romance thing sounds great in books and stuff, but in real life it's just asking for trouble. Anyway," she said, before Karen could interrupt, "we've gotta go. I have to be at Aidan's by two."

Falling into step next to her, Karen nudged her with an elbow. 

"God, Rainey, you're spending hours a day in the apartment of a hot, 24-year-old, British guy and you 'don't like him.' I didn't say it before but I'm saying it now: you *are* strange beyond belief. I mean, really—what's the worst that could happen?"

That's what she was afraid of finding out.

************* She arrived at Aidan's at about ten minutes after two and, when she knocked on the door, there was no answer. Biting her lip, she knocked again, and again Aidan didn't appear to let her in. 

Had he forgotten she was coming? A vague sort of pain shot dully through her chest at the thought that she could be so easily dismissed.

He'd definitely said two o'clock, that much Rainey was sure of. So where the hell was he? On impulse, she reached out and wrapped her hand around the doorknob and, to her surprise, it turned, the door swinging silently open to reveal the darkened hallway leading into the equally shadowed living room.

"Hello? Aidan," she called out, tapping lightly on the inside of the door. Still no answer. 




Rainey's Song Ch. 05



"Well, he has to be here," she muttered to herself, stepping inside and closing the door behind her. "He may be unorganized but I don't think he's the type to leave his door unlocked." Besides, she was almost certain she'd seen his car when she'd come up the path to the apartment complex.

Making her way cautiously toward the living room, she stuck her head into the kitchen but he wasn't there, either. Was he sleeping? 

The living room was empty, so she made a left and headed down the hallway toward his office, pausing for a moment at the closed door to the right that must be his bedroom. 

His office was at the end of the hall with a bathroom on the left-hand-side and a closet directly across from his bedroom door. Not many places for a six-foot-tall man to hide in this apartment but, still, he seemed to have holed himself up somewhere.

Turning in a full circle, she ended up facing the living room, her bottom lip once again found it's way between her teeth as she chewed it slowly in confusion.

"Aidan," she called out again, unable to think of anything else to do.

Silence. But then...tilting her head, she tried to catch a muffled noise and figure out where it was coming from. There! There it was again...it was like a muffled thudding noise. What *was* that?

"Rainey?"

At the sound of Aidan's voice, she jumped and spun around to find him standing in the hallway, half of his body inside the...closet?

"What are you doing in the closet," she gasped, trying to get her heartbeat to slow down as she took in Aidan's attire. 

A ratty t-shirt that looked like it'd been softened by a few hundred washes clung to his chest and, paired with the well fitted, though equally old jeans, accenting the narrowness of his hips, Rainey found herself swallowing to moisten her dry mouth.

Giving her that damned grin, he leaned back against the door-jam. "What do you mean, what am I doing in the closet? What closet?"

*Oookay, so apparently the door across from his room wasn't a closet...*

"Um..." she said lamely.

Still laughing at her, he crooked a finger, saying, "Come here."

Her eyes holding his piercing blue gaze, she found that she had no other choice but to submit. He could be luring her into Hell and she'd gladly follow if only he'd keep looking at her like that. 

Drawing close to his side, she felt his hand wrap around her upper arm and familiar shivers shot through her. Peeking inside the closet, or whatever it was, she saw a tiny box of a room; it couldn't be any more than about three feet deep and five feet wide, with a black sheet covering the center of what she could only describe as the wall.

"What is this?"

Nudging her gently into the tiny space, Aidan didn't respond, just followed her inside and closed the outer door behind them. 

Encased in total darkness, Rainey could feel him moving around next to her, securing what must be another black sheet over the first door with Velcro. Then, he turned to the inner door, peeled that sheet off and Rainey heard the door ease open.

"Where are you," Aidan whispered even as his warm palm found her upper arm in the darkness and slowly stroked down to find her hand. Interlacing his fingers with hers, he said, "Watch your step," and gently pushed her ahead of him through the door, which he closed behind them and secured yet another sheet across that opening.

It was pitch black inside the room and Rainey was sure she could hear her heartbeat thudding in her chest. Her hand was still in Aidan's, he was casually stroking her palm with his thumb and, instead of wanting to shake him off, she found that she'd missed his touch. How could she have grown used to him in so short a time?

"Aidan?" Her voice wavered in the darkness. "What is this?"

"Just a second." Disentangling his hand from hers, he took a couple of steps away and, for a long minute, all she could hear was the faint sound of trickling water. Then, quite suddenly, she heard him flip a switch and a dull, red-brown glow overtook the room, making Rainey gasp in recognition. "What do you think," Aidan asked.

She could see his form, the dark planes of his face illuminated by the red light, moving toward her and, on a grin she tilted her head. "Well, I didn't know darkrooms came standard in two bedroom apartments but this is a very nice one," she replied with a wry tone. "Did you build it yourself?" 

"Yep. It used to be the laundry room but I figured it'd get much more use this way."

"I know this is going to sound really ignorant of me, but this is amazing. I've never been in a real darkroom before," Rainey whispered, only to wonder why they even were still whispering.

"Well, then," Aidan said, offering her his elbow in the small space, "would you like the grand tour?"

Laughing, Rainey accepted the arm and decided not to point out that she could pretty much see the entirety of the room from where she was standing by the door. 

"I do all of the film processing over there," he said, pointing to two tables flanking a deep, steel sink. "That tiny room there," he pointed to another small, space in the far corner, its door covered by a black sheet, as well, "is where I put the film on photo paper." 

"And this," four or five steps brought them to the center of the room where a long wooden table was set up with four large plastic tubs full of liquid and a smaller sink at the far end, half-full of trickling water, "is where the magic happens."

Looking into the first tub, Rainey could see a large piece of photo paper lying beneath the surface of whatever chemical was in the tub. 

"What does this one do," she asked, feeling like a curious little kid but not caring. Aidan seemed happy enough to explain everything to her.

Releasing her hand, he stepped over to the tub and used a pair of tongs to remove the photo paper from the tub, allowing it to drip a little before dropping it into the next one. 

"The first one is developer, which is basically what makes the image show up on the photo paper. This one," he said, swirling the tub that now held the newly developed image of a child's large-eyed gaze, "is what stops the image from developing once I get it how I want it. The next tub is full of 'fixer,' which helps keep the photo from fading once it's finished developing." 

"The last one," Rainey leaned over to see what he was pointing to, "is a water bath that rinses off all of the excess chemicals."

"And then you hang them to dry over here," Rainey guessed, wandering over to a taut clothesline stretched across a corner of the room. Several processed pictures were hanging on the line and she leaned in close to inspect them.

Two of them were of a plump-cheeked little boy on a swing, his head tossed back in a silent laugh, the sky and clouds slanting over his head like a tapestry, the rich contrasts of the black-and-white print took Rainey's breath away. 

A few others were street scenes: a pierced and mohawked teenager standing at a bus stop in the rain; late afternoon sunlight rippling beautifully down a series of stone steps with a view of the waterfront in the background.

When Rainey came to the last photo, she couldn't help but smile. An group of older women sat in white wicker chairs in a gorgeously blooming garden, sun slanted down through the leaves and branches of a sycamore visible in the distance and a low table in the middle of the group held a quaint tea set and a cake with a few slices cut out of it. 

One woman in particular was focused a little more than the rest; she had high cheekbones and a sweetly curved mouth that told Rainey she'd been stunning in her youth and, even in more advanced years, she was still quite lovely. It was the eyes, the piercing eyes squinted in laughter, that jumped out of the photo and told Rainey who she was looking at.

"Your mother is lovely," she murmured, only to catch a surprised breath when she turned to find Aidan standing right next to her.

"She is," he said, smiling fondly at the picture. "But, how'd you know who she was?"

"You look just like her," her voice was low. "The smile, the cheekbones, the eyes...you definitely have her eyes." 

"So she tells me every chance she gets," he said, shoving his hands into his pockets. "She's the reason I love photography so much, actually."

Rainey turned to look at him, once again struck by the utter beauty of this man; she had to fight the urge to touch him. "Is she a photographer, too," she asked, desperately trying to stay on subject.

"No, she's too...analytical to be an artist. Too logical. But, she encouraged me to do what I was passionate about. When I was in school back in England, all of the boys wanted to be doctors or lawyers, you know? That's what their parents wanted them to be, so that's what *they* wanted to be. But there I was, the odd one out, playing around with disposable cameras all the time, dreaming about being a photographer. I always felt..."

"Like there was something wrong with you," Rainey guessed. "Like no matter what you did you'd feel 'wrong' about it. Following your heart meant people thinking you were weird and doing the expected meant you felt incomplete."

Aidan gave her a strange look, but let out a surprised laugh. "Yes. Exactly. How..."

She shrugged, walking away from him, pretending to inspect the photos floating in the water bath. "I've just...felt that way my entire life. I've always known I love writing, I get lost in it sometimes...it's like the world just disappears and everything around me is a poem or..." she shook her head, her laughter turned nervous and strained. "Never mind, it's stupid."

Once again, he came up behind her without her noticing, but this time, he turned her around to face him, forcing her to duck her head to avoid his eyes. 

She was startled to feel his hand on her forehead, brushing the hair away from her face; her eyes shot to his and she felt her breathing quicken. 

His hand found its way to the side of her face and he cupped her cheek. He looked confused, a little wary, as he searched her face, his eyes finally coming to settle on hers. 

"It's not stupid," he said at last, his voice barely above a whisper. "People your age are all still trying to figure out what they want to do with their lives, they're trying to figure out who they are, but you've already done that. Sure, that sets you apart from them, but that's nothing to be ashamed of."

"Then why do I feel like I'm missing something?" The words passed through her lips without her thinking them. With Aidan holding her so tenderly, they just seemed to come out on their own and hang in the air between them. 

He stared at her for a long time, she could feel his breath against her cheek; the only sound in the room was the faint trickling of the water bath at her back. Did his hand tremble a little? 

Or was it just that she was shivering all over?

His eyes dropped to her lips and she found herself hoping, praying against all better judgment that he would kiss her. When he leaned toward her, the fabric of his jeans rustled gently against her own. 

Her eyes fluttered shut and she heard herself sighing into the semi-darkness, her entire body tingling in anticipation of the moment his lips would meet hers. Then, she felt his lips press lightly against her forehead and her heart dropped like a lead weight to her feet. 

He didn't *want* to kiss her, well, not the way she wanted him to. Had she been wrong about his feelings for her? Nothing was making sense anymore.

His lips stayed against the sensitive skin of her forehead for long seconds and she heard him sigh as he turned his head to press his cheek against the place that his lips had set on fire. 

Drawing her into a tight hug, he wrapped himself around her so thoroughly that she had no choice but to wind her arms around his waist and hug him back.

It felt so right, being in his arms. 

They were quiet for a long time until Aidan's voice broke the silence. "We're so much alike," he whispered, slowly rubbing his cheek, a little rough with stubble, against her own. "It's been a long time since I've had a woman as a friend."

His words were simple, straightforward and clear; Rainey felt them settle heavily into the empty pit at the bottom of her stomach. 

She'd been a fool to expect more from Aidan. Stupid to allow herself to hope that they could ever be anything more to one another than just friends. 



Rainey's Song Ch. 06



Nearly an hour late to Jean's party, Aidan wasn't surprised to find that the house his friend had leased for the six months he planned on spending in Seattle was right on the water. As he drove up the stereotypical circular, gravel path leading to the house, he couldn't help but think that Jean didn't do anything on a small scale.

A mix of modern lines with a hint of classical flair, the house was two stories with a dark exterior broken up by several floor-to-ceiling windows that reflected the darkness of the street. Immaculate shrubs framed the image perfectly and, as Aidan stepped out of his car, tossing his keys to the waiting valet, it occurred to him that no matter how elegant this party turned out to be, he'd rather be at home.

Unlike Jean, Aidan wasn't a crowd person; he didn't find any fulfillment in trying to impress dozens of perfect strangers—not that Jean did either, more likely *he* enjoyed watching them all try to impress him. With a grin, Aidan took the steps two at a time, thinking to himself that if anyone was made to be a jetsetter it was Jean. 

The Frenchman's friendly, yet ambitious nature was partly what had drawn him and Aidan together all those years ago back in boarding school. Aidan had been the dreamer who wanted to be a photographer and Jean, well he'd been the one that even the headmaster of the boarding school couldn't break. It had always been his way or no way. 

Pressing his finger against the doorbell, the sound echoing sonorously within the house, Aidan shifted in his dress clothes. The party was supposed to be 'casual,' but Aidan knew that to Jean's expensive tastes that meant slacks, Italian shoes and a dressy shirt. In a pair of coal black slacks and a crisp white, collarless dress shirt, unbuttoned at the neck, Aidan fit the bill perfectly.

The door swung open and he came face-to-face with Jean-Philippe who looked very much the party host in a custom-made charcoal suit that probably cost more than Aidan made in six months.

"Aidan," Jean greeted him cheerfully. "Bonsoir, mon ami."

Clasping the hand Jean held out to him, he caught the perfect enunciation his friend gave to each of his syllables and knew from experience that Jean was just this side of being drunk. Maybe this could be interesting, he thought, returning Jean's wide smile as he entered the house.

"Bonsoir," he replied, a near-perfect accent on his French. "Ca va, Jean?"

"It's going amazingly well," Jean retorted in English, hooking his arm through Aidan's as he led him to toward the back of the house. "A few more people than were on the guest list but," he gave his classic Gallic shrug, "that just makes it more interesting, no?"

"Hmm," Aidan replied noncommittally. 

They were passing through the great room where a fired burned unheeded in the corner and a few dozen beautifully dressed partygoers lounged around with cocktails and hors d'oeuvres. Everyone wore bored expressions that said, quite clearly, that they and their surroundings were elegant beyond belief but they were too used to that elegance to pay it any attention. 

A wall of windows, with a pair of glass doors in the center, framed the scene outside like some sort of Vanity Fair tableau. Tables and sleek, steel-backed chairs hid in the shadows not reached by tiki lamps burning around the pool. The crystalline blue water of the long, kidney-shaped pool sparkled back into the night air, every now and then catching and reflecting the vivid colors of the costly silks and satins worn by Jean's more elite acquaintances.

Sliding one of the doors open, Jean all but dragged Aidan out onto the patio. "I want you to meet someone," he said, nodding a greeting at several people as if he were a visiting monarch.

Allowing Jean to lead him along, Aidan found himself glancing around the people gathered to celebrate Jean-Philippe's success. He didn't know any of Jean's friends and he didn't expect to find a friendly face...save one: Rainey's. Since Saturday, he'd wondered if she would actually go through with attending the party but his question had been answered when he'd talked to Karen on Tuesday and she was practically bubbling over with excitement about tonight.

But, if he guessed right, and he was sure he did, Rainey would hate being here as much as she'd hated going to the club. Did she see the same vacuous nature in the surroundings that he did? The blatant seductiveness that seemed to drip from every low-cut dress he saw; the appraising glances in the eyes of stiff-lipped women; the predatory gleam in the eyes of wealthy men who looked at those women as if they were potentially their latest acquisition.

Maybe he was bitter, Aidan mused. Maybe he only saw the rough edges of the whole masquerade because love was something that hadn't turned out for him. The dice didn't always roll true for everyone, he thought, and that wasn't a reason to look at these people and imagine that all of their motives were bleak, desperate and cold when it came to relationships.

Still, his eyes scanned the moderate crowd, where was Rainey in all of this gem-like luxury? He wondered how she was faring amidst people jaded by years in the 'fast track.' Maybe he should find her...

Even as the thought occurred to him, Jean pulled to a stop in front of a brown-eyed, blonde beauty wearing a strapless black dress with a slit up the side that reached mid-thigh.

"Aidan, I'd like you to meet Colette Fitzroy. Colette, Aidan Murphy."

Colette held a narrow flute of champagne in one hand, the other arm crossed over her waist as she gazed at Aidan, a look of sexual appraisal clear in her gaze. Stepping toward him, she unfolded her arm and held out her hand for Aidan to kiss.

"It's nice to meet you," he murmured, bending over her hand, his lips hovering in the air just above her skin. 

"And so very, very nice to meet you, Aidan," she replied, leaning into him, boldly pressing her breasts against his chest as she dropped imaginary kisses on either side of his face in the European style. "Jean has told me so much about you."

Aidan's brow shot up and he turned to give Jean a speculative glance only to find that his friend had deserted him. So, Aidan thought, Jean-Philippe is trying to play matchmaker with this Anna Nicole Smith clone. He made a mental note to take care of Jean later. As it was, he found himself trapped in a conversation with Colette.

"...tells me you're a photographer," she was saying.

Aidan nodded. "Between that and freelance journalism, I'm pretty much able to keep the telephone company from disconnecting me," he said flippantly. 

Her mouth dropped open in surprise, and he was curious to see what her response would be. Instead of speechlessness, she let out a tinkling laugh, placing her perfectly manicured hand on his upper arm. "Jean *did* tell me that you like to speak your mind." She ran the tip of her tongue over her bottom lip and locked her eyes on his. "I find that very attractive."

**********

On the other side of the pool, from behind a half circle of chairs at which Karen was the center of attention, Rainey watched as Aidan bent over a blonde's hand. An empty glass of champagne—her third, or was it fourth?—hung limply in her fingers as she tuned out the conversation going on a few feet in front of her.

She and Karen had arrived half an hour earlier and, after being boisterously greeted by Jean-Philippe who gushed over Karen until her head spun, were turned loose on the patio to fend for themselves while Jean saw to his other guests. Karen was completely in her element; she'd strode across the stone patio like she spent every weekend rubbing elbows with the rich and elite of the West Coast. But, Rainey was forced to admit, in a frothy, mid-length aquamarine dress that was shockingly translucent when she passed in front of the soft glow of the pool-side tiki lamps, Karen *did* belong here with all of these other gorgeous women and their expensively dressed male counterparts.

Rainey, herself, wore a peach-colored blouse that tied, rather precariously, around her neck, and a white chiffon skirt that had made her cringe when she saw the price tag. Karen had assured her that the cut accented her hips, something she usually avoided at all costs, but, placing complete faith in Karen's expert eye for fashion, Rainey bought it anyway.

Now, surrounded by silk, satin and slim-waisted women, Rainey just felt fat and dumpy. Her mood wasn't at all helped by the fact that she and Karen had taken a seat at one of the tables on the patio after Karen talked Rainey into accepting a glass of champagne from a wandering waiter, and men, some of them ten years older than them, had started gravitating toward Karen. As always, Rainey sat on the sidelines and listened to conversations about...well, she didn't know what they were talking about because she'd stopped paying attention so soon into the evening.

The waiter made his way past them a few more times and, out of boredom more than anything else, Rainey plucked a glass of champagne from his tray every time he made his rounds. The amber-colored drink was so light and airy, the bubbles tickling her nose each time she raised her glass to her mouth, that she found herself feeling better and better by the moment. So what if Karen got all the attention? Rainey didn't *want* attention...well, at least not from anyone but Aidan.

She giggled a little as that thought occurred to her. Sobering quickly, she glanced around to make sure no one had heard her laughing to herself—of course, no one was even looking in her direction—and she eyed her half-full glass dubiously. The tiny bubbles danced to the surface with vigor and she wondered if she was a little tipsy. When that thought also inspired a tiny fit of giggles, she decided that she *was* a little light-headed. 

Maybe she should stop...

The waiter appeared again on her left and she reached out, plucking another fluted glass from his ever-full tray. After this glass, she'd stop.

Glancing around, she idly held up the glass in front of her face so that the world took on a golden glow. Bubbles flitted between people from her viewpoint and she imagined, in her less than able-minded state that every bubble was a bit of laughter floating around in the air.

People needed laughter. Laughter was good. It was a pretty thought and it brought a smile to her lips. Turning toward the glass doors that led into the great room where even more people were enjoying champagne and caviar on gourmet crackers, her breath hitched when she saw Aidan's form, tinged gold by the champagne, appear flanked by Jean-Philippe. She'd forgotten about him for one, long blissful moment.

She settled the glass into the palm of her hand and watched as Jean led him toward the other end of the swimming pool. He seemed distracted, brooding; his eyes were restless, moving over the crowd like he was searching for something.

Bringing him to a stop near a gorgeous blonde in a black dress that barely stayed together because of the huge slit running up her perfect calf and thigh, Rainey watched Jean motion between Aidan and the woman. Even at a distance, the acute interest in the woman's eyes made Rainey's stomach churn. Unconsciously, her hand tightened on the stem of her glass of champagne.

Rainey watched as Aidan bent over the blonde's hand and the woman, damn her, pressed her breasts against Aidan's chest as she kissed his cheeks. They began conversing and, much to Rainey's disgust, the blonde laughed, tilting her head back and running a hand over Aidan's upper arm.

Her eyes narrowing, Rainey felt anger begin to simmer sharply in her belly. No wonder Aidan only wanted her as a friend. When he had Jean-Philippe to introduce him to sluts like the one he was talking to right now, how could he ever be interested in her?

The waiter appeared as if on cue and Rainey reached out her hand for another glass...

**********

"I usually spend springtime in Monte Carlo," Colette was saying, one finger suggestively stroking the stem of her champagne glass, "but when Jean told me that he was opening a club in Seattle, I just had to stay in the States for the party."

"That's...understandable," Aidan replied absent-mindedly, trying to ignore the pounding in his head after fifteen minutes of inane conversation with Colette.

He didn't try to hide the fact that he was searching the crowd for someone and Colette, used to being the center of attention, was taking her good time in realizing that Aidan wasn't interested in anything she had to offer.

Where the hell is Rainey, he thought fiercely. Had he even come? Aidan hadn't had the chance to ask Jean, so he might just be wasting his time looking for her. Maybe...

He stopped mid-thought, when he saw her on the other side of the pool. So she had come and, he noted, she looked as miserable as he'd expected her to be. Karen, alluringly beautiful in a way only someone could be when they were young and reckless, was holding court and Rainey was sitting behind the little gathering looking forlorn.

Dammit, he thought fiercely. Why does she let herself get elbowed out of the way like that? There was nothing that Karen possessed that Rainey didn't besides a bit of self-confidence and even that, Aidan realized, would make people see the beautiful person that he already did every time he looked at Rainey.

He watched her twirl a glass of champagne in her hand and his brow knitted a little. She was only nineteen so she shouldn't technically be drinking but, he sighed, feeling ten years older, it wasn't like she was a little girl, either.

Yes, he'd admitted that to himself. She wasn't a kid and he wasn't a little boy. There was something between them...something that reared its ugly head every time he was within sight of her, but he was getting over it, he told himself. He could control it.

A waiter passed by Rainey and she reached out to pluck a glass of champagne from the tray but somehow her hand knocked against the bottom of the tray, sending two glasses of champagne crashing into her lap.

"Aidan...Aidan are you listening to me?" He brushed off Colette's voice like he would a pestering fly.

"Excuse me," he murmured, and started toward Rainey. Was it just him or did she look a little unsteady?

He could hear her muted apologies to the waiter as she pushed out her chair to stand. Karen stood up too, ready to help however she could, but Rainey urged her back into her seat and headed into the house, presumably in search of a bathroom so she could clean up her skirt.

With long strides, Aidan followed her through the great room and down a darkened hallway where the voices of partygoers faded into a dull murmur.

"Rainey," he called out her name, lengthening his stride when she turned a startled gaze on him. He came up next to her and gripped her arm. "Are you okay?"

"Aidan..." it was all she said, her voice was like a sigh and she had a strange, half-smile on her face.

His brows clapped together. "Dammit, are you drunk?"

She laughed, throwing her head back so that her hair, left loose and wavy, fell back over her shoulders. "Of course, I'm not drunk. What...what are you doing? I thought you had a date." Damn, she bit her lip, fully aware that she'd given away the fact that she'd been watching him flirt with that blonde woman. But, her mind argued, how dare he come after her and act like her friend when they both knew that they never could be *just friends*?

"What are you talking about? What date?" He looked confused, but Rainey ignored him, shaking his hands off.

"Never mind. I'm just...I spilled champagne on my skirt and I need to find a bathroom."

She tried to turn away from him but he caught her arm again. "Never mind, nothing. I'm not done talking to you." Her eyes glittered dangerously and Aidan was shocked to find anger in their depths. What reason did she have to be angry with him. 

"Well, too bad. No," she said when he would have interrupted her. "Just...just go away. I'm not afraid of anything."

She referred back to their first conversation at the club when he'd told her she was beautiful and she'd denied it and he'd asked her what she was afraid of. What the hell did that have to do with tonight, he wondered. But then it hit him. "Like hell, you're not." With a firm grasp on her wrist, he hauled her behind him as he opened doors along the hallway until he found the bathroom.

It was modern-looking, full of chrome and white tile, but he didn't notice any of that as he pulled her inside the room and closed the door. She leaned back against the firm wall of cool oak as he took a towel from the rack, wet it, and handed it to her so she could wipe at her skirt.

She did so in silence until Aidan spoke again. "Don't tell me that you're not afraid of anything when I find you tipsy in the middle of a party." She didn't respond, just scrubbed harder at the spot on her skirt.

"You were nervous, weren't you," he asked quietly, but again, she didn't respond. He watched her for long moments, her hair falling heavily over her shoulder, cheeks flushed; God, he had a perfect view of down her shirt from the way she was bent over like that. She was so beautiful.

He clenched his jaw in an effort to focus. She was doing her best to ignore him so he moved toward her and wrapped his hand around her wrist until she stopped scrubbing uselessly at the spot that was already overtaken by the damp towel in her hand.

"Rainey," he heard himself whisper her name and wondered why every time he said it, it came out like a prayer.

Raising her head, she looked at him with clear eyes. "I'm not, you know?"

His grip on her wrist tightened. "Don't tell me you're not afraid. Don't lie to me."

She sighed and closed her eyes. "Would you at least believe that I'm not tipsy? I mean...not anymore, at least. You can leave, I'll be fine."

"Rainey, I'm not leaving." He knew it was true. He couldn't walk away from her this time.

Opening her eyes, she saw the truth in his and she grew anxious. "Why? Why can't you just leave me alone?" Her voice was frantic, panicked. 

Looking into her eyes, Aidan could see there was real fear in their depths, but not fear of him, more like a bone-deep wariness that matched his own. She'd haunted him for days now and she was so close to him, so tantalizingly close. 

"I wish I could," he murmured.

His hands were halfway to her hair when he realized it and, by then, he didn't have the strength to stop himself. He wanted to touch her. He *needed* to touch her.

He pushed his right hand into her hair, groaning inwardly when the cool strands slid sensuously between his fingers, and brought his left hand up to cup her cheekbone. It was such a prominent, feminine curve beneath the drugging warmth of her skin that he had to lean forward and press his mouth against the spot. His lips were parted just enough so that on his next exhalation it took little effort for him to lightly touch his tongue to her skin. Tasting her.

Rainey was practically panting into the silence. Gasping in shock when his mouth opened gently against her cheek she reacted automatically, turning toward him only to find herself staring into his eyes, suddenly so close to her own. The quick, involuntary movement brought her mouth right next to his. They were so close, so near to one another, that they were breathing each other's air. Her every exhalation fed his inhalations for long, silent seconds as they stared into one another's eyes, both of them realizing that the inevitable moment had finally come despite their best efforts to fight it.

"Damn," Rainey thought she heard him whisper just before he pressed his lips to hers, but the sound of his voice, and every other thought, shattered to insignificant pieces when he opened his mouth over hers. 

He started out slow, the barest brush of flesh on flesh, but the unsure movements of her mouth beneath his drove him insane. On a groan, he leaned into her and deepened the kiss.




Rainey's Song Ch. 06



Taking her lower lip between his own he sucked gently, her ensuing moan sent ripples of desire flowing through him. Tilting his head to the side, he pressed his upper body against hers, silently persuading her to lean back against the door. Dragging his mouth away from hers, he drew long, hot kisses down the length of her neck. Her hands, which had been pinned between their heated bodies, sank timidly into his hair and, when he nipped at her earlobe and she tightened her hold in response, he grunted his approval.

"Open your mouth," he whispered urgently against her swollen lips, barely waiting for her to comply before plunging his tongue hotly inside. He couldn't taste enough of her fast enough. Sliding his tongue against hers, hard then soft, fast then slow, he slowly drove himself insane. He could smell her...the heady sweet scent that had taken over every inch of his apartment and kept him up at night.

She shifted against him and, beneath the peach-colored top she wore, he felt her nipples, hardened into little nubs of desire, rub against his chest. His penis tightened and twitched between his legs; he pressed himself into her, not caring about anything else in those heated moments save the need to be closer to her.

Dragging his mouth away from hers, he brought his lips to her neck, nipping gently at the place where her collarbone curved so beautifully. Her moan made him shiver, a sensation completely overshadowed by the feel of her hands timidly finding their way beneath his shirt. Her palms were cool against his heated flesh; he imagined how they'd feel wrapped around his length, stroking him.

Rainey was on fire. Aidan's mouth was doing things that she'd only ever read about in books. Still, even when she should be frightened of the way he was touching her in the bathroom of this huge, cavernous house, she wasn't—she wanted his touch. She wanted him. Turning her face toward him, she brought his mouth away from her shoulders and silently, urgently, offered herself to him while her hands toyed with the hard planes of flesh just above his waistband.

His tongue rubbed fiercely against hers, yet she longed to be closer to him, to taste the taut flesh of his chest, to tongue his nipples and watch his eyes darken to even deeper pools than the ones that were now staring back at her.

She couldn't look away from the raw truth in his gaze. Sexual tension wasn't something she'd had much experience with in her lifetime, but it was recognizable in his face because she was feeling the same things.

The fabric of her shirt sighed into the silence of the bathroom as his hands found their way beneath to stroke idly against the silken skin of her belly. Sharp arrows of desire began skidding around inside of her; she pressed her thighs together, trying and failing to bite back a moan when his right hand slid lower to grind against the aching apex of her thighs.

"Do you know what you do to me?" His voice was hoarse as he whispered his question. He didn't wait for her to respond, only slid deftly to his knees in front of her and pressed his face into the soft valley of her thighs.

"You smell so good..." Both of his large hands stroked up the back of her legs, bunching her skirt as they moved upward to cup her ass in a vice-like grip. It turned him on completely that, beneath her sultry attire, she wore simple panties that fired his desire more than any scrap of scarlet lace ever would have. 

He opened his mouth against white triangle of fabric that covered her sex, his breath hot and damp against the dark curls beneath. She groaned, the touch of one of her hands feather-light and fleeting against the back of his head. Hooking one hand over the band of her underwear, he held her securely with the other as he pulled the panties off.

Her breath hitched; she reached down with a jerky motion to press her hand against his, forestalling him. She was biting a swollen lower lip when he looked up at her.

"I...we...can't..." Her breasts were heaving with unsteady breaths.

"Shhh, sweetheart...just let me...please..." He'd never been so close to begging in his life. Apprehension was clear in her eyes, but the damp spot on her panties and her musky scent told him more than words how much she wanted him.

When she moved her hand away, he pulled the panties the rest of the way down, allowing her to step out of them; his heart slammed violently against his rib cage and he had to fight for control as her lush center, the downy curls glistening with the liquid of her excitement, was revealed. Pushing at her right leg, just behind the knee, he moved her so that it was draped over his shoulder. With two fingers, he parted her lips and leaned forward to taste her, his tongue flitting out to tease the engorged nub of her clit and he took great pleasure when he heard her ragged moan.

"Oh, God..." Her head slammed back into the door at that first contact, but when she felt his tongue, hard, pointed and insistent, lick from the bottom of her aching nether lips to the top, her head began to swim. Driving her fingers into his dark wavy hair and she held him there as she ground her hips into his face. Digging his fingers into the flesh of her pelvis, Aidan only encouraged her, forcing more of her into his mouth. Opening his mouth wider, he covered her entirely and sucked fiercely. 

"Aidan," she cried out, her hips bucking out at him. The sound of his name on her lips nearly drove him insane; he flicked his tongue faster, harder, bringing his middle finger up to sink into her heated core.

Pushing up inside her, he felt like his hand was sinking straight into heaven; he groaned as her tiny, inner muscles twitched violently around his finger, drawing him deeper. Slowly, he began to push in and out, working her with his finger, watching hungrily as her pussy tried to swallow the long digit. God how he wanted to sink deep inside her, hear her scream as he thrust them both into oblivion.

Every sound seemed to be magnified. The wet sloshing noise Aidan's hand made as he pleasured her echoed in Rainey's head, nearly drowned out by the sound of her panting. With every move he made, her breathing became louder and she tried to control herself—almost succeeded, but then Aidan pushed another finger into her wet, hot depths and she felt herself sucking him in with muscles she never knew she had.

Humping against his hand frantically, she tried to force his fingers deeper to rub against a spot that was burning for attention. "Please...please..." she groaned, her eyes screwed shut, her head turning from side to side against the door.

Looking up into her face, Aidan found the sight unbelievably erotic, her face was flushed and her hair, tousled by his hands, floated around her face like a chestnut halo. Despite the ever-increasing ache between his legs and his burning need for release, he wanted to hear her scream, he *had* to hear her scream.

Three fingers buried themselves inside her. Rainey felt her knees growing weak and she was vaguely afraid that she was going to pass out. He was driving her insane; with every noise she made, he pushed harder, stroked her faster...pushed her toward the edge. His tongue rejoined the assault and she began slamming her hips into his face, gasping and desperate now, to find release. "Oh, God..." her voice was strained, passion drenched. "Aidan...Aidan please..."

He could tell she was close so he stood, his chin shining with the juices he'd brought forth, her aroma strong in his nostrils, and brought his mouth to hers, one hand hiking her thigh onto his hips as he rubbed against the tender flesh of her lower lips with deft fingers. Her mouth opened into a single-minded O as she ground herself in tiny circles against his hand.

A guttural groan ripped from her throat when he pushed a finger back inside her but kept up the attention on her clit with his thumb. He wasn't gentle as he forced his way in but, from the whimpering sounds she was making, he didn't think she wanted him to be. Her fingers dug into his shoulders and, unable to resist any longer, he pressed his mouth against hers, shoving his tongue inside, allowing her to taste herself.

Their tongues slashed together for long minutes, muffling her moans as his hand drove her closer and closer to climax. Finally breaking the kiss, Aidan sucked her lower lip into his mouth—just like he'd wanted to do that first night in his car—and whispered, "I want to feel you come around my finger."

Her eyes shot open, cloudy and dazed, and met his. She could see the blatant desire clearly on his face and she knew, without a doubt, that he wanted her, wanted to be inside her, no matter what he'd said about their being friends. It was such an erotic realization that she felt herself clench violently around his finger and tiny ripples of pleasure radiated down through her belly to that fiery spot that he was paying so much attention to.

"Oh!" She fell forward as she felt her climax beginning, her head resting against his shoulder, her fingers taking a death grip on his upper arms. "Oh God!" Outside the bathroom, muffled voices drifted down the hallway making it obvious that someone was walking their way. Not giving a damn, Aidan rubbed Rainey harder, forcing her climax to peak sharply. 

"Ohhhh God!" She screamed, and he had to cover her mouth with his own to quiet her, groaning fiercely when she sucked vigorously on his tongue, lost in her pleasure. He kept stroking her, his motions slowing as her hips stopped moving. 

"Oh God, oh God..." she groaned quietly against his mouth, still clenching his finger between her legs. The voices outside were louder; whoever was out there was passing right by the bathroom and the thought of someone overhearing the aftermath of her climax was a surprising turn-on for Rainey.

The ensuing silence was heavy and tangible, but she felt warm all over so Rainey barely noticed. Aidan disengaged his hand from between her legs and straightened her skirt as best he could without letting her go completely. 

"Are you okay," he asked, watching as Rainey's eyes slitted open and she gave him a dreamy smile. His heart slammed into his chest at the look in her eyes. He never wanted to stop touching her, never wanted her taste to fade from his lips...but just the fact that he was thinking those things meant, more than anything else, that he had to let go.

"I..." she raised a shaky hand to push uselessly at her tumbled hair. "I think so." Glancing at him, her cheeks grew pink, rather belatedly in Aidan's estimation, but he didn't say anything. "I can't believe..." she began, then bit her lip, her eyes straying to the buttons on his now-wrinkled shirt. "I, um...wow."

Her lack of adequate words to sum up what had just happened between them was so typically Rainey that he started laughing. He kissed her on the nose before dropping his forehead against hers, looking into her still-dazed eyes. "I know," he whispered. "I would say I shouldn't have done that but," he brought a hand up to play with her disheveled hair, "we both know that'd be a lie."

She bit her lips and her cheeks grew even darker but, to his surprise, she held his gaze. "I've never...I mean, no one's ever...done that before," she said quietly.

Ridiculously, Aidan felt his chest swell with possessiveness and relief at the knowledge that he was the first man to give her pleasure. Part of him, some idiotic part, wanted to demand that he be the last, as well, but he held his tongue. "You," he kissed her lightly on the lips, "are definitely a natural."

She gave him the smile he'd expected, but then her face took on a contemplative air and he knew that she had something important to say; he found himself holding his breath. "Aidan, what...what does this mean?"

He'd known she would ask but he didn't have an answer for her. He'd wanted her and he couldn't resist. After days of thinking about her, days that felt like years, he just hadn't been able to back away once again. But, he knew that she wanted to know more than that. She wanted to know what it *meant.* Was is just random, emotionless lovemaking, well, *almost* lovemaking, in the bathroom of his friend's house or did he want something more from her?

Her smell, that familiar scent clung to him still and, gazing at her, he knew that he wouldn't soon forget the taste of her, the sound of her calling out his name in passion. It was clear now to both of them that he wanted her and he knew that she wanted him, too—the question was, where did the 'wanting' end and the 'needing' begin? 

It scared him that he couldn't even give himself a straight answer to that question, so he evaded hers by giving a half-answer. He cupped her cheek and stroked his thumb across her lower lip; he'd never felt anything softer than that few inches of warm flesh. "I just couldn't help myself," he admitted, trying to ignore the vague shadow of disappointment in her eyes. "Now," he said, moving her away from the door before she could respond. "Karen's probably looking for you and Jean...well, he's probably *not* looking for me, but either way you'd better get back out there." He held the door open for her, watching as she straightened her hair and clothes in silence.

When she moved past him, he caught her elbow and held her still for a moment. She stared into his eyes and, bewitched by that haunting green gaze, he said the first thing that came to mind. "You have no idea how much I want to...but I can't."

As cryptic as the words sounded to his own ears, he knew that she understood his meaning because her mouth quavered a bit at one side, only to break into a whisper of a smile. "I know," she said simply, and then she was gone.

Suddenly alone in the expensive elegance of Jean-Philippe's leased bathroom, Aidan felt more alone than he had in a long time.



Rainey's Song Ch. 07



"I didn't expect to see you up before noon."

From his slouched position at the cherry oak kitchen table in Jean's leased house, Aidan squinted open one eye and scowled at his friend. 

He felt like hell. His head was pounding and he had the worst case of cottonmouth in recent memory.

Taking in Aidan's disheveled state, Jean laughed good-naturedly. "Too much champagne, I take it?"

Aidan snorted. "Who the hell gets a hangover from champagne?" He ran a hand over his face and groaned deeply as he felt the night's growth of stubble on his chin. "I may or may not have taken a few shots of vodka from the liquor cabinet in the library last night."

Jean watched him with an amused crook of the mouth as he sipped a glass of orange juice near the refrigerator. "Ah, so that's why you ended up passed out in the guest room. Any particular reason for this rather uncharacteristic show of...overzealous alcohol consumption?"

"Jean, for the love of God, why are you talking like a college professor?" Aidan groaned. "Small words. Short sentences." Lowering his head to the cool surface of the table, he mumbled out a muffled, "That's all I can handle at the moment."

"Fine," Jean put his glass down and opened the fridge, removing a package wrapped in white butcher's paper and a carton of large, brown eggs. "Short sentences then," he said, as he began preparing breakfast. "Why did you get drunk last night? My guests couldn't have been that dull."

Aidan snorted derisively, as he recalled the inane conversation he'd had with bottle-blonde Collette Fitzroy. Sure, she was attractive, but the more she'd tried to entice him with her mascara-caked eyelashes and blood red lips, the more he'd been turned off—repulsed even. 

He didn't generally have a type when it came to women since beauty came in every imaginable form, but the entire time the socialite was going on and on about the fashion in Milan and her stock holdings in some of the nation's Fortune 500 companies, he'd been thinking about Rainey and how she'd caught his attention that first night at the club just by talking about a part-time summer job.

The more Collette had talked, Aidan realized, the more she bored him in comparison to Rainey's depth. He enjoyed Rainey's mystery and shy personality—it was like a breath of fresh air compared to Collette's...wide-open display. 

Judging by the size of the slit in her dress and the low-cut of its neckline, she had no problem advertising the goods. The only problem was that Aidan hadn't been interested.

"Aidan? Hello?" Across the kitchen, Jean was standing in on the other side of the counter, waving a spatula at Aidan to get his attention. 

Aidan had to blink several times to clear his thoughts. "Huh?"

"I asked why you felt the need to get drunk last night. Anything interesting happen?"

It was Jean's sly tone that finally caught Aidan's attention. How much did he know about what had happened between him and Rainey the night before? 

"Why do you ask?" Aidan's voice, still gravelly in the midst of his hangover, was cautious.

"Hmm," was all Jean said as he tore open the papered package he'd retrieved earlier and began dicing up thick slices of bacon. "Do you want an omelet? I have tomato, rosemary, green onion...les champignons. Oh, wait; you don't like mushrooms. Well, you have your other choices."

"I don't want an omelet."

"Orange juice?" Jean asked, not looking up as he minced garlic with practiced ease. "Or would you like to indulge your English ancestry with some tea?"

"I don't want juice or tea," Aidan replied shortly. He knew he sounded like a testy six-year-old, but he didn't care.

"Fine," Jean threw back just as concisely, "then do you want to tell me what happened between you and Rainey last night?"

Sitting up straight for the first time all morning, Aidan shot his friend a wary look. "Mind your own business, Jean."

Meticulously slicing tomatoes into thin wedges, Jean kept his attention on his task but his voice was steady and clear. "Hey, no need to get angry. Besides, it is my business: you're my friend, it was my party, this is my house—at least until the lease is up." 

Jean finished the tomatoes and started chopping mushrooms. "Come, Aidan, you remember last night. Rainey came inside. You followed. About twenty minutes later, she came back out looking...disheveled, found her friend Karen, and they left. Rainey wouldn't even let me have my driver take her home. Said she'd already called a cab." He paused to rinse his cutting board. "So, I have to assume that, in the interim, something happened between the two of you."

Aidan cast Jean a nasty look. There was the pulse beating at his temple again. Vaguely, Aidan worried that he was developing some kind of a condition from all the strain he'd been under during the past two weeks. 

And now that Jean knew something was up, he really didn't have a choice but to give him some sort of an explanation.

He sighed. "I kissed her. Are you happy now?"

Jean's left brow shot up, but he didn't say anything. He was clearly waiting for more detail. 

Closing his eyes, Aidan began to rub his temples, hoping the throbbing would ease. "She spilled champagne on her skirt and I was trying to help her. We were in...the bathroom and, well, one thing led to another and I ended up kissing her..." He let his arms fall away and he rested his head against the back of the chair. "God, this is definitely going to complicate our whole arrangement. I mean, I really don't think this is what Lynn had in mind."

He waited for Jean to respond, but long seconds passed with no sound from his friend.

Turning his head, Aidan found the Frenchman watching him speculatively. "Don't look at me like that," he said on an exasperated sigh. "It was just a kiss." 

Well, that was mostly true, Aidan mused; he didn't want to hear what Jean might have to say if he told him that kissing Rainey was only the beginning of what had happened last night.

"Aidan," Jean began slowly. "In America, the French are viewed as...lovers, am I right?" Aidan nodded, and Jean continued. "Well, I think the Italians are the true lovers, but why argue with such an enchanting belief, n'est-ce pas?" he smiled mischievously. 

"Is this going somewhere, Jean?"

"Oh. Right," the Frenchman sobered a bit as he made his point. "What I mean to say is that, although we French are not artisans of love, I know that a simple kiss doesn't put the look on someone's face that I saw on Rainey's last night. It was confusion and anxiety, yes, but she was—forgive the cliché—glowing." Jean held up his hand before Aidan could interrupt. "And you, well, I've hardly ever heard of an innocent kiss leading to a man drinking himself into a near stupor. So, again, I have to ask, qu'est-ce que tu as fait?"

The wrought-iron legs of Aidan's chair scraped across the floor as he shoved away from the table. " I told you, already; I didn't do anything!" He stalked over to brood in front of a large bay window, his hands shoved deeply into the pockets of the dress slacks he'd worn to the party and slept in last night.

"Forgive me if I prefer to assume otherwise, mon ami," Jean said calmly. The sound of eggs sizzling in a frying pan was the only noise in the room.

"You're a real bastard, you know that?" Aidan said at last.

"That would be news to both my parents," Jean quipped nonchalantly.

Aidan released a heavy breath as he let his shoulders relax. "It was more than a kiss."

"I see," was all Jean said.

"No, you don't." Aidan's kept his back to his friend, sightlessly taking in the sparkling, rain-kissed gardens visible through the window that was nearly the height of the wall. "I didn't sleep with her. I just...afterward...I felt like I'd taken advantage of her. She's so young and she was drinking. And I practically just met her, but she's driving me insane. The vodka...that was definitely a bad idea," he admitted, "but I had to get my mind off of her."

He swore colorfully, turning around when he heard Jean settling himself at the table with his breakfast. "I can't stop thinking about her, Jean. The way she smells. Her smile. Her eyes. The way she chews her lower lip when she's concentrating. I just...I don't know what to do."

"You know, you're really making this more complicated than it needs to be, Aidan. It's really just a matter of whether or not you're attracted to this girl, and, " Jean continued, "whether or not she's attracted to you. Judging from her flustered exit last night and the fact that you're practically pulling your hair out over this, the attraction question is clearly a non-issue."

Aidan sat down again and stared across the table at his friend. "It's not that easy, Jean. Part of me wants it to be, but the other part keeps counting all of the reasons why I should stay the hell away from her and stop thinking with what's between my legs."

"You're just full of excuses, aren't you?" Jean stabbed a piece of omelet with his fork and chewed thoughtfully.

"They're not excuses," Aidan protested. "These are valid problems that're—"

"Bullshit," Jean countered, the mix of his French accent with the purely American curse made his statement all the more pronounced. 

"If you were thinking with what's between your legs, as you put it, you'd have just slept with Rainey last night and that would've been the end of it. If you were as caught up in the age difference and working situation as you keep saying you are, you wouldn't have let things get this far and you know it. Would you like to know what I think your problem is?" Jean's asked, pointing his fork at Aidan.

"Does it matter? You're going to tell me anyway," Aidan said, resignedly.

"True," Jean conceded. "I think you're afraid."

Silence fell as Jean put the last of his omelet in his mouth.

Aidan's mind couldn't seem to take in what Jean was saying. "What're you talking about? Why would I be afraid of Rainey?"

Jean shook his head. "Not afraid of her. Scared to hell of the fact that she's all you think about. Afraid of—"

"You're not making any damned sense, Jean," Aidan said.

"Look Aidan," Jean said. "Considering your past with Julia...well, you and I both know that you haven't had the best experience with relationships. I think—"

"Okay, we're done talking about this," for the second time that morning, Aidan shoved out of his chair, only this time he had no intention of sticking around to listen to Jean's psychobabble. 

Jean's brow rose, but he didn't make a move to detain him. "Okay, we're done," he said, "but can I say one more thing before you storm out of here?"

Aidan was already headed toward the stairway that would take him to the guestroom he'd slept in so he could get his things and go home for a change of clothes. 

"What?" he asked warily.

"Whether or not I'm right about this whole thing with Rainey, you have to admit that this is the first time, in a long time, that you've been distracted by something other than work or university. And even if I'm wrong—which I don't think I am—but, even if I am, you should think about holding onto her for as long as it lasts because, in the end, you might end up wishing you'd taken a chance—even a temporary one."

Aidan stared at his friend, his lips pursed with frustration and thoughtfulness. "Au revoir, Jean," he murmured. 

"Au revoir," Jean returned, sipping his juice as Aidan disappeared up the stairs.

*********************************

"Oh. My. God." Karen said, pronouncing each word slowly and deliberately. "In the *bathroom*?"

Rainey was lying on her bed with her face buried in her pillow. She nodded slowly, easily able to imagine the look of dumbfounded shock on her friend's face. 

Shock pretty much summed up the acute disbelief that Rainey was experiencing in the light of day, as well.

Last night when Rainey had made her way back from her encounter with Aidan, Karen was still surrounded by a bevy of admirers, but one look at the bemused expression on Rainey's face had Karen murmuring her excuses as she made her way to her friend's side. 

She'd try to pry information out of her while they were still at the party but Rainey, in a steady voice, had simply asked if Karen was ready to leave.

Jean-Philippe appeared from the house and, when Karen told him that they were leaving, he'd offered to find someone to give them a lift but Rainey, speaking for the first time in several minutes, politely refused, and announced that she'd already called a cab.

Once they'd settled themselves into the back of the taxi fifteen minutes later, Karen smoothed out the folds of her dress and looked at Rainey's serious profile. "Alright, spill," she'd said into the darkness.

But Rainey, still whirling inside at the utterly surreal nature of what had happened between her and Aidan, just shook her head and said, "I'll...I'll tell you in the morning," and Karen had to be grudgingly satisfied with that. 

Rainey had simply leaned her head against the cool window of the cab, staring out at the gold and yellow lights of the Seattle skyline as the driver traversed the residential lakeside road at leisurely speed.

Now, morning had come and she'd recounted the previous night's events and as Karen sat in astonished silence, Rainey was wondering the same thing she'd wondered the night before: What the hell had happened to her?

One minute she was downing what had to have been her sixth glass of champagne, the next, Aidan was towering over her like some blue-eyed apparition and then...then...

She bit her lip and felt her cheeks flush as the still swelteringly hot memory of what she'd let Aidan do to her came flooding back. Part of her, some distant and increasingly less prominent part of her knew that, technically, she should be upset, but another more adventurous part of her urged her to see where this new path led. 

"Okay...okay..." Karen was mumbling, "I think...you need to start from the beginning, please."

Rolling over to her back, Rainey stared at the ceiling. "There's really nothing else to tell," she said. "I mean, I pretty much just told you everything from beginning to end. I just...I just don't know what to do about it."

On the one hand, Rainey considered, she could accept this...situation...at the barest points. She and Aidan were attracted to each other and he'd taken an opportunity to give a physical outlet to that attraction: nothing more nothing less. 

In that case, she should just forget the whole thing, right? It wasn't like she was overly experienced when it came to *almost sex* in any shape or form, so it'd be better if she just chalked it up to the candlelight and the alcohol, right?

Her thoughts scattered when Karen hopped off her bed and started pacing, her fingers tugging at the hem of a white t-shirt that said, in black letters, 'I'm Not With Stupid Anymore.' 

"You have a point," Karen said, slowly. "I mean, you've got the option of just, you know, acting cool and calm like it never happened, or," she continued quickly when she saw Rainey's brow knit, "you can kind of see where things go from here."

Rainey sat up, crossing her legs as she began to chew her thumbnail. "I don't think that's a good idea."

Karen stopped pacing. "Why not?"

Rainey opened her mouth to respond but found that she couldn't come up with a single good response. 

A week ago, even a day ago she would have been full of reasons and rationalizations as to why she should be calling Lynn right now to tell her that her she was absolutely done working with Aidan, but today she couldn't formulate a single reason why that was the best thing to do.

"So?" Karen urged. "What's the problem with a possible relationship?" 

And there it was. That word: relationship. Rainey groaned inwardly. 

Yes, Aidan was pretty much her male fantasy come to life, but that didn't mean he felt the same about her. 

'But what if he does,' a stubborn inner voice questioned.

Squeezing her eyes closed in frustration, she leaned forward and buried her face in the pillow she had cradled in her lap. From her semi-sheltered position, she opened her mouth and admitted her fears in a flood of words that were strung together into an unintelligible garble.

"Rainey, I have no idea what you just said," Karen pointed out.

She raised her face from the pillow. "I said: it's a bad idea because I don't know if he feels the same." 

From a few feet away, Karen stared at Rainey as she played with a lock of hair that had fallen over her shoulder. "Rainey, from what you just told me—and I'm sure you gave me the tame version—I don't see how you can even think he isn't attracted to you."

"That's not the point. I mean, I know he is," she could feel herself blushing but she forced herself to say what she was thinking. "I just...I don't know if that's *all* he wants."

"Ohhh," Karen said, understanding Rainey's dilemma. "You're not sure if it's all about the physical stuff for him, huh?" When Rainey nodded, Karen sat down on the bed next to her. "Okay, then it looks like the ball's back in your court. The only way to find out is to go see him."

A tiny shiver of panic ran up Rainey's spine. "Go see him?"

Karen nodded. "Look, it only has to be as weird as you let it. If you're cool and calm about it, he'll be, too. You really have more control over this situation than you think, Rainey."

"It doesn't feel like it. Lately, it's like I'm watching things happen and I have no control over them."

"Is that a good thing or a bad thing?" Karen's voice was soft, probing.

Rainey thought for a moment. "I...at first, with Aidan, it was...scary and strange, you know? I mean, here's this incredible guy who's, for some reason I can't fathom, interested in me. It...well, it terrified me. But now, I just..." she paused as she searched for the right words.

Last night when she'd looked into Aidan's eyes and saw the unmasked passion in their depths, she'd known that he was attracted to her, but she'd thought she'd seen a shadow of need, as well. 

Even though a large, yet silent, part of her had always hoped that the pull she felt constantly tugging between them would finally overcome both their restraints, she'd been wary, anxious, and nervous about when that time would come. 

She'd expected to be overwhelmed and apprehensive of her innate awkwardness, but he'd made her feel graceful and beautiful and confident.

Vaguely, in the midst of her thoughts, Rainey realized that Karen was waiting for her to finish her sentence. 

She cleared her throat. "Before...I was afraid, but now...I want him." A frisson of excitement ran through her even as she said the words. 

They were the absolute, undiluted truth.

She wanted more of the confidence he gave inspired in her. She wanted the knowledge that Aidan *wanted* her. She wanted that power; that joy; that satisfaction. The fulfillment.

While she knew that, ultimately, the true changes would have to come from within, she knew instinctively, that Aidan was the key. Even if it turned out that he wasn't in the market for a relationship, she'd deal with that when the time came. 

She promised herself that she would be reasonable about her expectations since she was about to take this bold step forward with her eyes wide open. 

For once, it was a risk she was ready and willing to take.

With deliberate precision, Rainey put her pillow down on the bed and got up. "Karen," she said, turning to her friend with a look of determination on her face, "for once I'm going after what I want. And I want Aidan."

Leaning back on Rainey's bed with a huge grin, all Karen had to say was, "Hallelujah."

*********************************

After popping two Tylenol PM to combat his headache, Aidan was sprawled across his couch in a semi-sleeping haze that reminded him again why he disliked vodka. 




Rainey's Song Ch. 07



Suddenly, a loud thudding noise sounded in the back of his head and he groaned, reaching for the bottle of Tylenol again, before he realized that the sound was someone knocking on the door.

"Go away," he called out, half-heartedly, knowing that his voice wasn't loud enough to carry through the door. His only hope was that whoever it was would just leave.

As if on cue, the knocking stopped and he breathed a sigh of relief, readjusting the bag of frozen peas he was using at a makeshift ice pack for his head. A few seconds passed, then knocking sounded again and he groaned—again. For the love of—

"Aidan?" He sat up, the voice was muffled from the other side of the door, but the shiver that ran down his spine told him what his brain was having a hard time processing: it was Rainey.

What the hell was she doing here? he wondered, as he groggily made his way to the door. It seemed like it took him ages to make it, but he finally unlatched the lock and opened it to find her standing there with her hair around her shoulders, all fresh and vibrant-looking—the exact opposite of how he felt at the moment.

"Rainey? What're you..." he trailed off as his stomach did a nauseating little tap dance that told him he and vodka would never be friends again.

Rainey's brow furrowed as she took in his appearance. "Aidan? Are you okay? What happened?" she asked, stepping inside, forcing him to move out of the way so she could close the door.

Some small part of him that still had a sense of humor silently snickered at her question. What had happened to him? *She* had happened...followed quickly by a few too many drinks in Jean's library.

Mumbling something about a late night, he made his way back to the couch and plopped down on it, leaving enough room for her to sit if she wanted to.

Rainey hesitated before following Aidan into the living room. She wasn't really sure what she'd expected to say or do when she came face to face with him after her earlier conversation with Karen, but she hadn't really expected to find him looking like he was half-dead.

His hair was rumpled and he had a whole day's worth of stubble darkening his cheeks and, if she wasn't mistaken, he was still wearing the same shirt he'd had on last night, though the slacks had been traded in for a pair of sweats.

Still, as she approached him, she couldn't deny that he was incredibly attractive, damn him. 

She'd been full of determination and confidence when she'd climbed the stairs to his apartment; she'd run a hundred scenarios of what might happen through her mind, but this—-well, this she hadn't exactly expected.

"I know I'm not, uh, being a great host," Aidan said from the couch, reclaiming her attention, "but, I'm not feeling so hot today." 

He popped a faintly bloodshot eye open to look at her. "Were we supposed to be doing something today?"

She realized that he thought she was there for work. "Uh, no," Rainey began, pacing toward him cautiously. 

What the hell had happened to him last night after she'd left the party? From the looks of things, he was suffering one hell of a hangover, but she hadn't even seen him drink more than one glass of champagne the entire night.

"I, um, sort of wanted to talk about..." she sat down on the arm of the couch, only to jump up with a yelp when she felt something cold and damp.

Aidan's mouth quirked with amusement as he watched her pick up the bags of frozen peas he'd tossed there when he went to answer the door. 

"Ice pack," he murmured drowsily. "I, uh, have a bit of a hangover, if you haven't guessed by now." The P.M. part of the Tylenol was starting to kick in, but he fought off its affects; his headache seemed to have eased by a great deal in the last few moments.

"Nice," Rainey replied with a short laugh, "but from what I hear, a frozen pork chop works much better. Then again, I don't have much experience with hangover remedies."

"Never been drunk?" he asked, then stupidly remembered that she'd been all *but* drunk the night before. Frustratingly, every inch of his flesh heated at the memory.

Apparently, her thoughts were straying the same direction, because she blushed and wouldn't meet his eyes. "Let's just say I've never had a hangover."

Aidan managed a genuine grin. "Lucky girl. But, considering you're in your first year of college, you're definitely a little behind schedule. I can't count how many times I was three sheets to the wind when I was a freshman at Columbia."

"Three sheets to the wind," Rainey repeated the phrase. "Shall I consider that a proper British way of saying you were wasted, my good sir," she teased in a passable English accent.

"Pardon me, my dear," he countered in a thick voice, a smile spreading across his face, "but an Englishman is never, has never, and will never be 'wasted.' Such distasteful antics are reserved for you unruly Yankees. Heathens, the lot of you," he sniffed pompously.

"Heathens," Rainey exclaimed, tossing the now dripping bag of peas on his chest, "You're the one with frozen vegetables on your forehead."

Laughing, Aidan picked up the defrosting vegetables and made to get up. "Good point. I think I'd better find a proper ice pack before this one..." he trailed off on yet another groan as his stomach and head decided to battle out who had the biggest complaint over his vodka encounter the night before.

"Here," Rainey said, holding out her hand for the bag of peas, "give those to me and lay down. You know, you're really making me glad I'm a late bloomer when it comes to drinking," she tossed over her shoulder as she went into the kitchen.

"Glad I could be of service," he quipped sarcastically, making her smile.

In the kitchen, she found zip lock bags and she filled one with ice before wrapping it in a clean dishtowel. When she went back into the living room, Aidan was half-laying on the couch and his eyes were closed. 

She stood there watching him for a long minute, her stomach muscles contracting dangerously at the mere sight of him, and for a moment, a single moment, she wondered what she was doing there.

This fantasy she was trying to create wasn't her life, a doubtful voice screamed. She was quiet, shy Rainey Wilson and guys like Aidan didn't—

"Come sit with me." 

Aidan's voice shot through her like lightning. His eyes were open; just little slits of the deep blue that was like a drug to her senses. 

He'd been watching her watch him. For once, being the object of his perusal didn't discomfit her; instead she reveled in the feeling of self-assurance it gave her. 

Smiling, she pointed out, "You're taking up the whole couch."

"Details, details," he said, as he lifted his head and shoulders a bit with the clear implication that he wanted to rest his head on her lap.

Swallowing hard, Rainey eased onto the couch and he rested his head on her thighs with a small sigh of contentment. Rather than leaving her hands pinned at her sides, she took a page from her new mantra of getting what she wanted and lay her right hand on Aidan's chest while the other held the ice pack against the arm of the couch.

In the quiet, she could hear traffic hissing by outside on rain-dampened streets. The wind was picking up and it was getting cloudy; the sort of deep, darkness of the early afternoon that, in Seattle, meant a big storm was coming in. 

Vaguely, Rainey realized that she'd have to walk back to the bus stop in the rain, but the thought had barely materialized before it was gone again.

Aidan's hands came up, unexpectedly, to the one she'd placed on his chest and he began stroking the soft flesh at her wrist. She watched as his thumb, square-tipped and broad, made small circles against her pulse point. 

Could he feel her heartbeat there? Did he know what he was doing to her? She realized that she didn't care if he knew how he affected her. She was tired of hiding. 

Hiding from him.

Hiding from herself. 

And from life.

Her breath caught in her throat as his eyes opened, connected with hers, even as he slowly drew her hand up to his mouth. Her gazed into her eyes as he kissed each finger individually. 

Then, never taking his eyes from hers, he pressed his mouth to her wrist and kissed her there. He circled his tongue in tiny swirls across her flesh; playing a game of tag with her pounding pulse.

"Aidan," she whispered, shakily, not even sure what she was trying to say to him, her eyes wide and intent.

"Why did you come over today, Rainey," he asked, his pitch and tone a perfect match to hers. 

He heard his voice like an echo; the pills were finally winning their tug of war on his senses, but he fought back the drowsiness once more when she parted her lips to answer him, but hesitated.

"Tell me what you want..." he urged her in a barely audible whisper. "Tell me."

Rainey shivered, only half aware that she'd let the ice pack fall to the floor. She was jolted by how similar his words were to what she'd said to Karen just that morning: * I want him.*

She didn't answer him; for once, she was perfectly content not to have the right words. 

Instead, she leaned toward him, slowly, deliberately so that he could see in her eyes exactly what she wanted. If he didn't want the same thing, he could silently let her know now before it was too late. Before she...

He met her halfway. 

His lips, warm and strangely familiar slanted against hers leisurely at first, but when she sighed against into his mouth and parted her lips, he leaned up, supporting his weight on one elbow as he shoved his hand into her hair.

It felt like forever since he'd touched her last, but he knew a full day hadn't passed. In minutes, his heart was pounding despite the sleeping pills; despite his headache; despite everything. He needed her.

She bit his bottom lip then flicked it with her tongue to ease the heady sting she'd created. He pulled back to stare into her eyes, and saw, with a twisting in his gut that she was just as involved as he was. 

Sitting up, he urged her to lie next to him on the couch so that their bodies were fully aligned from head to toe. 

Unexpectedly, she eased over him and took over their embrace, driving one hand up underneath his shirt to splay against the warm flesh above his waistband. Everything in him urged him to grind himself against her thigh and let her know just how much she affected him, but as Rainey began to trail light, fluttery kisses against the base of his neck, he remembered her shyness. 

Her innocence. 

He willed himself to calm down. Taking deep breaths, he stroked both hands through her hair that was spread over both of them like a bolt of auburn satin. 

"You're so beautiful," he murmured into her hair. The feeling of her lips curling into a smile against his neck made his chest tighten. "So beautiful..." he yawned. 

Rainey looked up at the sound. Doubt was written plainly in her eyes. Aidan smiled at her and she noticed the heavy-lidded quality of his gaze.

"As much as I'd like to continue this, sweetheart," he said, groggily, one hand straying from her hair to stroke underneath her shirt and rub the bare skin of her back, "I took some Tylenol PM earlier and," he yawned again. "I'm on the losing end of this battle."

"Oh," Rainey said, utterly relieved that she hadn't bored him so much with her kisses that he was falling asleep. "Well, I...um..." when she made to sit up, he pulled her back down, rolling onto his back with her cradled against his chest.

"Don't leave yet," he said, his lips warm against her temple.

Those familiar shivers shot through her. "All right," she replied in a whisper, "I'll stay until you fall asleep." 

Turning her head so that her ear was pressed against his chest, the sound of his heartbeat, as steady as a metronome, was instantly hypnotic. Her eyes drifted closed and before she realized it, she was asleep, as well.

*********************************

Okaaaay, so my 11-week hiatus turned into a little over 52 weeks. 

Just, what've I been doing in the past year?

Well, I've finished another year of college, started a new job and suffered the loss of many of my writing files when I bought a new computer. THAT was a sad, sad day. 

However, persistent readers, I bring you Rainey and Aidan, once again. I apologize if Chapter 7 was not all you'd hoped for; it's been a long time.

If you'd like more after this chapter, please message/comment/email me and I will attempt to deliver. 

But, I'm aware that the magic may be gone from these two characters, so please let me know if that's the case, and I will begin posting newer work that I'll try to finish in a much more timely manner. 

Oh, and thanks for all of the emails and comments in the intervening months; it's nice to know that Rainey and Aidan's story has captured so many imaginations.

As always: happy reading.

~ EVE 



Rainey's Song Ch. 08



The Grand Guthry Hotel was a local landmark. Built in 1888 on the shores of Elliot Bay, no other Seattle hotel had ever come close to matching the Guthry's innate class. Each year, thousands of tourists flowed through the Guthry's doors to take in the timeless beauty of her leaded-glass windows, recessed Corinthian columns, and the intricate, mosaic floor in the lobby.

That renowned lobby is where Aidan was on Monday; he'd been hired to photograph the Guthry's recently refurbished Grand Foyer. It was early afternoon and sunlight spilled through the tall windows near the main entrance. The glossy, wood-paneled walls, the color of burnt honey, seemed to glow from the caress of natural light. Long, angled shadows, the same pattern as the leaded windows, spread lazily across the famed mosaic floor.

And Aidan barely noticed any of it.

The photographer in him knew he should be awed by the gorgeous architecture. He should have been itching to photograph every inch of the historic building. Instead, he was taking his time, leisurely snapping photos while letting his mind wander.

His thoughts were entirely on Rainey. And they way they'd woken up that morning. 

He'd woken up slowly, his neck stiff from sleeping at an odd angle. Still half-asleep, he'd tried to stretch and only then did he become fully aware of the soft form of Rainey's body nestled between him and the couch cushions. Her head was tucked up under his chin and he couldn't see her face because her hair had spread out around her and across his chest.

It should have felt strange, waking up with her like that. But it didn't. 

Her breathing was steady and slow. Shifting gently, he stroked some of her hair away, tucking it behind her ear so he could see her face. She murmured in her sleep, turned her face slightly as if following his light caress. His pulse, awakened by her feathery sigh, gave a stuttering jerk.

Restlessly, he'd slid his hand further into the warmth of her hair, smoothing it back even more so he could run his thumb along her temple. Before he realized it, she was waking up, her body curving into his own as she stretched sleepy muscles.

Her eyes opened. Met his. For an instant, hers widened, surprised to find him so close, watching her. She turned her head into the hollow space between his shoulder and jaw, resting her chin on his collarbone. The warmth of her breath on his throat made him shudder.

Easy, he told himself. Easy.

He smiled down at her. "I think we've found a new hangover remedy."

"What?" she laughed, her voice still raspy from sleep. "Don't tell me you're deserting the frozen peas and pork chops already."

He grinned. "Don't need 'em when I've got a couch and a pretty girl at my disposal. Besides," he continued, enjoying her renewed laughter. "I seem to remember someone bad-mouthing those frozen peas last night."

"Hmm, I don't remember that," she said, shifting her head on his shoulder. "What I do remember is something about British people being heathens—" Cutting her off, Aidan swatted playfully at her bottom, drawing a shrieking laugh from her. "Ow!"

"Now," he asked, his hand poised for another swat. "What was it you were saying about the fine people of Great Britain?"

She'd buried her face against his neck, still laughing, but managed to spit out. "You're all bullies!" Anticipating his playful retribution, she tried to escape but he held her to him with one arm and swatted her again with the other.

"I can't seem to hear you properly," he teased. "Care to repeat that, my little Yankee?"

Popping her head up, she grinned at him. "I said—hey!" She protested, surprised when he swatted her mid-sentence. "You don't even know what I was going to say." She tried to look offended, but the effect was ruined by her laughter.

"Consider that a warning tap," Aidan told her with a cheeky grin. "Now, continue."

"Well, if I'm going to get swatted just for exercising my freedom of speech, all I have to say is 'God Save the Queen.'"

"That's more like it," Aidan triumphantly laughed while pulling her more securely into his arms. 

Then, because she was smiling and so close, he had to kiss her. It wasn't a conscious thought on his part. He didn't realize that he'd leaned into kiss her until a moment before their lips met and…

Oh man.

Aidan had to shake himself, then. Actually had to work to pull himself out of the memory, remind his body where he was. In the middle of a public hotel lobby where he was supposed to be working. He couldn't get through an hour without thinking about how she'd moaned for him on Saturday, let him touch her in all the places, and ways, he'd been fantasizing about.

And, God help him, now that he'd woken up with her in his arms, all he could think about was having her in his bed, naked and wanting him with a desperation that matched his own. He never should have touched her. A sardonic smile settled on his mouth; he acted like he had a choice in the matter when it came to wanting Rainey. The truth was that he had practically no free will when she was around. Everything in him drew him to her with a sometimes frightening urgency.

So why have you been fighting it? asked a small, inner-voice. 

That voice, which sounded suspiciously like his own, had been echoing in the back of his head since Saturday night. Could he do it? Could he give in completely to this almost overwhelming obsession he had with Rainey? Considering the question, he snapped several shots of the mosaic floor, making sure to capture the angled-shadows that fell in drastic contrast to the floor's circular pattern.

One thing he knew for certain, the minute he'd opened his door yesterday and found her standing there, he'd been glad. Yes, he admitted to himself, he'd been aching to see her. He wanted her. It seemed like he'd always wanted her. He just didn't want to…what? 

He didn't want to what? 

Hurt her. Scare her. Disappoint her.

Maybe lose her.

Disturbed by this sudden, if unvoiced honesty, he swung around, tilted his head back and aimed his Nikon camera at the Grand Guthry's newly-installed Chihuly chandelier, the centerpiece of the new lobby. 

A 30-foot tall, blown glass sculpture by the world-renowned artist, Dale Chihuly, the hotel manager had told Aidan it was worth nearly half a million dollars. He zoomed in on the chandelier, snapping a few images from interesting angles. Actually, calling it a chandelier was a bit generous since it didn't so much give off light, as reflect it. Thousands of sculpted glass cones had been mounted together to form a larger, more organic cone-like shape. The smaller cones burst with bright orange, gold, red, and yellow hues.

As a whole, it gave the impression of an inverted pillar of flame, shooting up from the floor, blooming across the lobby's high, lacquered ceiling. All in all, the effect was pretty stunning. He could see why Chihuly commanded such exorbitant fees for his work.

Clearly, Chihuly was an exception to the whole idea of starving artists. Most artists had to choose between their passion and practicality, Aidan mused. In his own case, he'd chosen practicality, something that he sometimes regretted.

Panning his lens out, he framed a wide-angle shot, taking in the chandelier and the lobby as a whole. He released the shutter and considered the combination of bright, organic glass with the old-world, fussily antique charm of the Grand Foyer. While the chandelier was beautiful, it seemed out of place, almost gaudy amid the Grand Guthry's historic aura.

"Aidan? Is that you?" a feminine voice called out from just behind him.

Wondering who he could know who'd be inside the most expensive hotel in town, Aidan turned and came face-to-face with Colette Fitzroy. 

She wore billowy, white linen slacks and a sleeveless, green satin top whose buttons were half undone, revealing the curve of high-perched breasts. A wide, canary yellow belt spanned her narrow waist and, at her throat, an equally bright yellow necklace of oversized faux pearls spilled down her chest into the crevice of her cleavage.

She reminded Aidan of the chandelier: beautiful, but in a manufactured way.

"Well, fancy meeting you here," she drawled, propping one bracelet-laden hand on her cocked hip. Her gaze flicked to his camera, then back to his face. "Ah, the artiste at work, I assume?" 

Aidan shrugged, giving her a noncommittal half-smile. "I'm working, yeah, but I don't know about the artiste part."

"You're being modest. I'm sure your work is fabulous," she insisted with a cat-like smile.

Aidan had the uncomfortable feeling that she was undressing him with her eyes. He shifted, giving her his profile. "No, really," he said. "It's a pretty typical project. The hotel wants to highlight the restored lobby and the new chandelier." He gestured toward the massive sculpture. "It's a Chihuly."

"I know," she tossed back. "My father donated it." Her voice dripped with a socialite's boredom. 

Of course he did, Aidan thought, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. He knew Colette expected him to be impressed but he couldn't muster the effort. "Oh. Well. It's a gorgeous piece," he offered lamely. "Photographs well, too."

"It should, considering what Daddy paid for it." She crossed her arms, examining the chandelier with indifference.

He didn't know what to say to that, so he raised his camera. "True…but I'd better finish up—"

"Have you ever considered branching out?" Colette cut him off, demanding his attention, obviously not ready to be dismissed. 

Aidan turned back to her. "What do you mean?"

She shrugged, fingering the clasp on her gray-green handbag, which looked to be made of crocodile skin. "This just doesn't seem like your element." She locked her gaze on his, tilted her head as if in deep thought. "I have a confession: I looked up some of your work. You're very, very good. Better than tiny in-set photos and useless pictures of hotel lobbies that no one's going to give a second glance to." She paused, giving him an inviting smile. "You're better than this, Aidan." She said his name like an intimate caress. 

His jaw clenched. They'd met once before and here she was judging his career choices? He wanted to tell her to go to Hell and almost did, but remembered that she was Jean's friend, though he couldn't fathom why. 

"Thanks for the compliment," he managed instead, "but I'm not really in the market for a career change."

"I'm not talking about a career change. Just," she waved her hand slightly, causing her bracelets to tinkle, "a genre shift. Fashion photography, Aidan. Haute couture. You have no idea what it could do for your career." She took a step closer, surrounding him with the scent of her perfume. "I have friends in the industry. You could make four, five hundred dollars a day as an entry-level fashion photographer. But if you know the right people," her tone went low, slightly sexual, "you could make a lot more. I could introduce you around. Set up some meetings. What do you think?"

Aidan tried to keep his mild disgust from showing on his face. It was obvious that she was trying to seduce him; he'd known the first time he met her that she was attracted to him. Not that she'd made any effort to be subtle about it, really. He'd assumed that it had been clear he wasn't interested, especially after he'd left her mid-sentence to follow Rainey.

Yet, even now, she spoke of the glamorous lifestyle she could introduce him to as if that would suddenly tip the scales in her sexual games. The fact that she thought he'd be so easily reeled in by talk of money was irritating, to say the least.

He cleared his throat. "Thanks, but no thanks. I'm happy where I am. I…appreciate the offer, though."

Before he'd even finished talking, she opened her purse and pulled out a business card and pen. She scribbled something on the back and held it out to him. "You should think about it, Aidan. Really give it some thought. Give me a call if you change your mind." When he took the card, she let her fingers trail across his. "I'm always available." From her tone, it was clear that she meant it in more ways than one.

Reluctantly, he accepted the card and, because she was watching him, he bent down and pushed it into a pocket inside his camera bag. 

"Well, I'm off," she announced. "Meeting Daddy here for a late lunch. Be sure to tell Jean-Philippe bonjour for me."

"Will do," Aidan replied, glad that she was finally leaving. 

Then, before he realized her intention, she leaned forward and planted a kiss on either side of his face in the Parisian style; only, instead of kissing the air the second time, she brushed her lips against the outer edge of his mouth.

With that, she was gone, leaving behind only the scent of her expensive perfume. Aidan wanted to wipe the back of his hand across his face where she'd kissed him. Watching her walk away, he wondered why he found her presence to abrasive. She was self-centered and materialistic, yes, but he'd dealt with worse. Maybe it was her blatant, almost overbearing sexuality. Women had pursued him before, but with Colette, he felt like he was a challenge that she'd set for herself.

Abruptly, he picked up his camera bag and started packing his equipment. He'd been at it for almost two hours, so he probably had more than enough material to work with. But even that familiar task didn't wipe the unpleasant remnants of Colette Fitzroy from his mind.

This was only the second time he'd met her and, once again, he'd wanted to be as far away from her as possible. Her perfume, jewelry, make-up; even that expensive, yet God-awful outfit she'd had on. All of it bothered him; more than it should have, really.

Then, out of nowhere, it hit him: she reminded him of Julia. His jaw clenched. It was an uncomfortable comparison, but true enough. The two women didn't look alike—where bleach-blonde Colette was tall and curvy, Julia had been a petite brunette; almost child-like—but at the most basic levels, he suspected they were very much the same.

Julia had been out-spoken, level-headed and, as he'd later found out, driven by calculating ambition. To the point where, as she'd shown, her only concept of loyalty was to herself. His jaw clenched at the unpleasant memories. He saw that same single-minded, aggressiveness in Colette and it left a stale taste in his mouth. He'd once made the mistake of confusing confidence with cold-hearted determination, so he could easily see the same traits in Colette. All in all, they were two of a kind and just so damn…

Different from Rainey.

There was that inner voice again. His voice. Apparently, the only part of him able to be perfectly honest. It seemed like an odd conclusion, but one his mind latched onto it, it wouldn't go away. 

Maybe the fact that he disliked Colette wasn't only because she reminded him of Julia. Maybe it was also because she was so different from Rainey.

And maybe, he considered, Jean was right. If part of the reason why Aidan disliked Colette so intensely was because she reminded him of Julia, maybe his past with Julia was haunting him in more ways than he realized. Was he being fair to himself by still letting Julia's betrayal bother him all these years later? Was he being fair to Rainey?

Funny how his thoughts always came back to her.

Then again, nearly all of his thoughts bore some relation to her these days. Without his realizing it, she'd somehow become the ruler by which he measured other women. He finished packing his bag and left the hotel, heading to his car. Thinking about it, he realized that since meeting Rainey, he hadn't even looked at another woman.

"Oh, hell," he muttered, as he crossed the street outside the hotel and rounded the corner to where he'd parked. He'd been an idiot to think that putting some distance between them after the party would work. Bottom line: it all came back to Rainey. Always. He was so thankful she'd taken the step to show up at his apartment when she had. But, he admitted to himself as he slid into his car, he knew that if she hadn't come to him, he would've gone looking for her. 

Just like he had on the first night he drove her home, Aidan sat and stared sightlessly through his windshield. He was done working for the day, so he could go home. But the idea wasn't appealing. At all. After running into Colette, he wanted to see Rainey even more. Sure, he'd just woken up with her that morning, but it didn't make a difference to him.

He thought about it. Go home; sit around thinking about her. Or he could do what he really wanted: go see her. The car's engine gently rumbled. It didn't take very long to decide; as if he'd had a choice, at all. Shifting the car into gear, he pulled out into the early evening traffic and headed for Rainey's college.





Rainey's Song Ch. 08



When her final class drew to an end, she breathed a sigh of relief even though the professor pointedly announced that outlines for the first papers were due next Monday. In fact, all three of her current professors were piling on a lot of work pretty early in the quarter. Now, on top of being preoccupied by thoughts of Aidan, she started to stress a little about the amount of work she had. She had a tough schedule this term, taking three two-hour literature courses. Her plan had been to get those out of the way so she could focus on creative writing courses during the next school year. She almost wished she'd thought ahead to the amount of reading and paper-writing she'd now have to do.

It was getting dark outside by the time Rainey emerged from the Language Arts building. 

A stiff, chilly breeze reminded her that despite the early April blue skies, it was still spring and she'd forgotten to wear a jacket.

Also thanks to her preoccupation with Aidan. 

Six hours and three classes into her first day of the spring quarter, she still didn't know exactly what to think about him. She got the sense that Aidan, even though he was definitely more experienced than her, was uneasy about a relationship. He'd even seemed uncertain about his attraction to her, early on. Yes, there was a definite shift in their relationship last night, but she wasn't certain what it meant, really. The last thing she wanted to do was assume anything, maybe scare him away. She'd rather have him in her life in some way, than not at all.

Of course, she admitted to herself, it would hurt like hell if, after all of this, he went back to his 'let's just be friends' routine, but she could at least try to handle that. Although, it would definitely meant she could never let him kiss her. Ever again. She was only human, after all.

Somehow, though, she suspected that they weren't going down that road again. Too much had happened between them so far. She smiled, suddenly excited for no good reason. Well, no reason besides Aidan.

Just to get her mind off of him for five straight minutes, she started to mentally tally up all of the homework she already had to take care of. Thirty seconds later, the sheer amount of work she had to do finally hit her. She sped up. If she had an early dinner, she could get in a good two hours of research at the library.

Wrapping her arms around her for warmth, she shivered in the breeze, ducking her head to keep the wind from blowing her hair into her eyes. She headed for the cafeteria, counting her footsteps in an attempt to take her mind off the chilly wind.

Her phone rang. She seriously considered not answering it because it meant untucking her arm, but she did anyway. Excitement bubbled through her when she saw the name on the caller ID. Aidan.

"Hi," she said, pulling strands of windblown hair from her mouth.

"How are you?" As always, his voice devastated her body, even when it was only over the phone.

"Kind of cold, actually," she said. "I just left my last class."

"Maybe you should think about investing in a proper jacket. That might solve your problem." He sounded amused.

Rainey laughed. "Who said I wasn't wearing a jacket? For your information, I'm wearing a freaking parka," she joked. "Anyway, it's not my fault Seattle's so cold in April. It's unnatural."

"Hmm," he murmured. "I really like your jeans."

"Wh…what?" She stopped mid-stride, peering around. "Where are you?"

"At my apartment." 

"You liar," she laughed.

"Name-calling? Not very nice."

"Neither is stalking people."

"Hey," he protested, "I'm not stalking you. I just happen to enjoy a good view—but I suggest you turn around. Someone's about to bump into you."

Without thinking, she spun around and ran nose-first into a hard, broad chest. 

"Sorry, I…" The words died on her lips when she saw the face belonging to the chest she'd just run into. 

Smiling down at her, Aidan gave that familiar, lazy grin. "You have a habit of losing your balance," he teased. "Lucky for you, I'm always around to catch you."

She couldn't stop smiling, damn him. He'd been on her mind all day and now that he was here, a bubbly happiness rose inside her. "What are you doing here?" she asked, closing her cell phone. "Besides stalking me?"

His grin widened. "I was going to call you, but I ran into Karen in the parking lot. She told me you should be getting out of class around now, so I decided to wait you out." Falling into step next to her, he wordlessly slid her messenger bag from her shoulder and carried it. "Where are you headed?"

"I was going back to my room but I have so much stuff to do, I think I'm just going to grab some food and camp out in the library." 

"Already? Classes just started." He wrinkled his nose and she had the strongest urge to stretch up and kiss it. 

Instead she shrugged. "Tell that to my professors. They're not taking it as easy on us poor freshman anymore."

He glanced at her with a small smile. "I've got the perfect cure for too much homework."

"What cure? If it's anything like the way you deal with hangovers, I think I'll pass," she teased, despite the fact that she was shivering from head to toe. When he looked at her like that, just like always, a bloom of longing spread its fingers across her body. It wasn't just a simple longing, though. It was a desire for Aidan. Just Aidan. And the feeling wasn't a new one. It had been growing for weeks. 

"Watch it," he warned with a mock scowl. "I believe we settled the frozen peas debate this morning. Unless you'd like another go." 

She had to fight back the not-so-convenient images of his mouth on her breasts that morning. "No, I'm good. So, what's your homework cure?" she stammered, pleased that she'd managed to respond despite the fact that her mind had turned into a carnal slideshow.

"Chocolate." He wiggled his eyebrows at her temptingly. "I know this great dessert shop…"

Rainey rolled her eyes. "That's not a cure. That's a reaction to having too much homework." She bit her lip. "Besides, I can't go. I mean, I want to. I really, really want to, but I have a paper outline to work on and a test to study for. And I have to come up with a presentation topic for my—"

Surprising her, Aidan stopped, pulling her next to him. He stared down at her, seemingly oblivious to the other students who had to walk around them. Then his eyes went to her mouth.

"I forgot something," he whispered.

"What?" she breathed. 

Before she even got the word out, he leaned down and kissed her. At first it was gentle, like their kiss that morning had started, but almost immediately, he opened his mouth over hers, pressed inside, silently demanding that she kiss him back. 

For a very brief moment, Rainey's mind remained rational. They were kissing in the middle of the pathway on her college campus while dozens of people—students and professors—passed them. Her hesitation disappeared when Aidan's hands sank into her hair and he used it to gently pull her closer to him. Then, her hands went around his waist, underneath the rustly fabric of his unzipped windbreaker, basking in the warmth emanating through his shirt.

She had no idea how long they stood like that, completely oblivious to the world around them. Then, from what seemed like far away, someone hooted and Aidan finally stepped back, his lips lingering on hers.

He ran his thumb over her swollen bottom lip and smiled at her. "I forgot to say hi," he said. "Hi."

She swallowed. Hard. "Hi." Her voice sounded all shaky, even to her.

Linking his fingers with hers, he started them walking again. After a few steps, she realized they were going in the opposite direction. Away from her dorm and the cafeteria. And the library. She tugged at his hand. "Aidan, wait—I really, really have to work on this paper."

"You sure?" he asked, his thumb making slow circles on her palm. "Because I know this place out in the U-District. All they sell is dessert. They have this chocolate layer cake…three kinds of chocolate." He grinned. "An obscene amount of chocolate, really. I'd be willing to share a slice with you. But if you have to work on that paper, I guess I understand."

She groaned in defeat, allowing him to tug her along after him. "You so don't play fair, she muttered, but she was grinning.





Rainey's Song Ch. 08



So she kissed him. 

He wasn't fully facing her, though, so she could only reach his jaw. When he turned, his dark eyes glittered in the moonlight like the water flowing beneath their feet. Leaning down, he kissed her fully. When she sighed against his mouth and parted her lips, he shoved his hand into her hair.

Aidan's mind, and worse, his body, went right back to their entwined limbs on his couch just that morning. Pulling her more fully against him, he grunted with frustration when the fabric of his own windbreaker kept him from touching her more completely.

Satisfying himself with running both hands through her hair, he stroked downward until he was cupping the warmth of her cheekbones in both his hands. Long minutes passed as they explored each other's mouths until, panting, they broke apart, foreheads resting together, pulses pounding in unison.

"I think we're going to have to take a rain check on that chocolate cake," he said. If he didn't get her home soon, he knew they'd end up rolling around half-naked on the bridge. While the idea held a certain appeal, he didn't want that to be Rainey's first experience of lovemaking.

Getting himself under control, he tilted her chin up so he could look into her eyes. God he'd missed her and they'd only been apart for a few hours. She was definitely turning into an addiction, but he found that he didn't mind nearly as much as he probably should have.

There was a reason why he'd brought her here tonight. All the things he loved about Imogen Cunningham's photography, Rainey reminded him of. The innocence, the sensuality and uniqueness. It was all there inside her.

"Go out with me," he heard himself say. "On a date. A real one." 

"I'd love to." The smile she gave him warmed him to his toes. 

They sat for a while longer, alternating between quietly talking and simply enjoying the quiet. Finally, when the moon had risen high in the sky, marking the lateness of the hour, he helped her to her feet, his mood incredibly light. 

"You know," he said, as they walked hand-in-hand up the embankment, "I've always wanted to recreate that Imogen Cunningham nude portrait." His tone turned sly. "I just need to find a willing female to play the part."

Rainey's laughter reached him in the darkness. "Good luck with that. I might have a friend or two I could ask."

"No, that's okay," he told her. "I already have someone in mind."

"Oh? Do I know her?"

"Yeah," he teased, "her name's Karen—ow!" He rubbed his arm where she'd punched him. "God, I wish I'd known you were violent before I asked you out."

She arched a brow. "I guess you've conveniently forgotten repeatedly swatting me this morning."

Aidan cleared his throat. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

Both laughing, they quickly fell back into comfortable silence. It wasn't until they'd fully climbed the hill and were walking back to his car that Rainey looked up at him.

"Thanks for sharing Imogen with me."

For a moment, he could do nothing but stare down at her, his heart pounding in his chest. It still amazed him that she affected him this way. A few words, a look, even a simple sigh had his pulse racing. Her thanking him for Imogen was no different. Such a simple phrase, but he sensed that she knew that by sharing Imogen with her, he'd been sharing a part of himself, too.

He stopped and stared down at her, struck by how bright and clear her eyes looked in the moonlight. "You're welcome," he finally murmured, his voice sounding thick to his own ears.

Then, in the middle of the street, with an occasional car passing by, he kissed her.



Rainey's Song Ch. 09



"Unfortunately, it means that there are going to be some cutbacks. Fellowships and departmental grants are at the top of the list of possible sources. Which means your current fellowship funds are directly in the line of fire."

Aidan's eyes closed as he silently swore. He was on an eight-thousand dollar per year fellowship at the university, but even that wasn't enough to keep him from maxing out his loan allowances since he was only a part-time student.

After a moment he cleared his throat. 

"You're sure. It's a done deal, then?" he asked.

"No, not yet." Professor Graham responded.

Aidan pinched the bridge of his nose. "Well, when will you know for certain—about what's going to be cut?" he asked, managing to keep most of the apprehension from his voice.

On the other end of the phone, the professor sighed. "I don't know, Aidan. Probably by the end of the week. There's an emergency meeting scheduled for tomorrow morning, so maybe I'll have more news for you then. But," Graham paused, "I should tell you that this information is technically not supposed to leave the department until a decision has been made. But as your advisor, I thought you should know. Just in case."

"I appreciate it," Aidan murmured, his mind racing.

"No problem," the professor said. "At least you've got your freelancing to fall back on, though." Another sigh filled the phone's earpiece. "I don't know what I'm going to tell the photo/art majors. Anyway, I'll be in touch."

"Okay, Professor Graham. Thanks…for letting me know."

Hanging up, Aidan sat perfectly still, staring sightlessly at the darkened screen of his laptop. Dammit, this was the last thing he needed. He only had another year of school left and then he'd have his masters degree, but, after that phone call, things might not turn out that way at all. If he lost that fellowship, he was pretty much screwed. It'd probably take him another two years to finish if he had to make up the difference.

Then again, Graham had said there was a chance his funding might be cut, not that it was definite. There was a possibility that he was worrying over nothing. 

And, he thought with a grimace, there was a chance he wasn't nearly worried enough. Still, if he sat here thinking things over in his head, he'd go insane with doubt and questions and, right now, he was too damn tired to deal with that.

Plus, Rainey was out there. 

He glanced at his closed office door, imagining her sitting on his couch, waiting for him. Without thinking about it, he got up and walked toward the door. Toward her. Even if his entire graduate school career might need to be put on hold, he'd deal with that when it became an issue. Right now, he wanted to take his mind of everything else besides her.

Switching off the light, he opened the door and left the office.





Rainey's Song Ch. 09



Instead, she settled her knees on either side of his hips and moved upward, seeking better access to his mouth. Her innocently eager movements settled his groin right into the valley of her thighs, the light, thin fabric of her skirt pooling around them on the floor. His erection throbbed, almost painfully, knowing how close it was to paradise.

Slanting his mouth over hers, Aidan grasped Rainey's head, holding steady with an urgency that bordered on roughness. Thrusting his tongue inside her mouth, he was delighted when she met him; kissed him back; staked her own claim on him. He groaned into her mouth.

Unable to stand the torture of immobility, he began to slowly, rhythmically rock his hips, nudging himself into the heated valley between her legs. More than anything, he wanted to be inside her. But he knew she wasn't ready for that. Not yet.

Still, the need to press into her was overwhelming. So he did. Digging his hands into the warm, softness of both her thighs, he urged her down as he ground his hips upward, torturing himself and testing his self-control.

But when Rainey dragged her mouth from his, rocked her weight backward to settle more firmly against his throbbing erection, all rational thought evaporated. And self-control quickly followed suit the second she pressed her flushed cheek against his and let out a breathy moan.

God.

Aidan didn't if she'd said it or if he'd thought it. 

Deliberately, he locked his eyes with hers, thrust himself hard against her. Her eyelashes fluttered and she linked both arms around his neck to balance herself. 

Her breath hitched in her throat as he began to steadily, but forcefully rock himself against her. There were layers of fabric between them, but God, he swore he could feel her heat. Just the thought made the engorged tip of him weep.

Up 'til now, he'd been doing all the work, clenching her hips, letting her feel him. Leaning forward, he sucked her bottom lip into his mouth. Gently bit down and, without releasing his hold, urged her, "Move on me, Rainey. Please." 

Once again, there was a flash of momentary uncertainty, hesitation, in her eyes. Half-convinced that he'd die if she didn't move against him, his grip on her hips tightened and he moved to trail open-mouthed kisses along her throat. 

"Please," he urged again. He sucked at the tender skin below her ear. "Move on me," his voice grew gravelly. "Just…" He bit her neck, wanting to leave his mark on her flesh.

An unsteady groan escaped from Rainey's throat as she settled her weight onto Aidan and rocked against him. Her skirt bunched up around her hips, the only fabric between them was her panties and his sweats. 

Rainey's heart was pounding. She could feel him, his hard length between her legs, rubbing with excruciatingly sweet pressure against her. Closing her eyes, she let her head tilt back. 

Aidan's hands slipped beneath her skirt, both large palms sliding up the smooth skin on her thighs until her reached her apex. The hot, dewy heat there dragged a moan from him.

He looked up at Rainey; her eyes were closed, her hair falling all around her shoulders, the white skin of her neck looking incredibly soft. And kissable. He leaned up, grinding his hips into her, and ran his tongue along the length of her throat. At the same time, he worked a finger inside her panties, groaning at the dampness he felt there, and flicked a finger against her engorged clit.

A shudder went through Rainey's entire body when Aidan touched her. She was embarrassed, yes—her face felt hot and flushed—but she wanted him to touch her. As he worked two more fingers into her panties, she leaned back a little, giving him freer access.

"You're so wet, baby," he whispered, stroking her. Oh God, if he didn't…

A single finger slipped inside; stroked once, twice, then caught a rhythm and Rainey shamelessly rocked her hips, following him. He stilled, bringing her hand up to rub against him through his sweats. "I want to…try something." He kissed her throat. "Will you let me?"

Not trusting herself to speak, she swallowed hard and nodded. A slow, seductive smile spread on his face. He tugged at her underwear with one finger. 

"We need these off." 

Flushing, Rainey bit her swollen lip but maneuvered on his lap and he helped her slide them off. Pulling her back onto him, he stroked her dampness for a few moments, until she was whimpering into his mouth. When he stopped, she let out a murmur of protest.

"I'm coming back," he whispered, pushing his sweats down around his hips. "But I need you to help me…" His gaze locked on hers, he guided her hand underneath her skirt, into his lap. "Touch me, sweetheart."

Rainey's hands were shaking. Actually, her entire body was shaking, but she didn't hesitate to touch him. Their movements were curtained beneath her skirt, which was probably why she was being so brave, but when she wrapped her hand around his length, she marveled at the silky hardness. The warmth.

And, she thought, watching as Aidan's eyes slid half-closed and his jaw clenched, the sense of power was addictive, too. 

She gingerly stroked him, from crown to root a few times, gaining more confidence with each pass. Experimenting, she ran her thumb across the hot, blunt-feeling tip, surprised to find a sticky wetness there. Unable to resist, she fondled his balls with her other hand. Aidan sucked in a breath and his head slammed back against the couch cushion.

"Jesus," he hissed.

Smiling, Rainey leaned down to kiss him. Both of his hands sank into her hair as he ravaged her mouth with his. 

"Scoot up a little bit. Yeah, like that," he whispered, using one hand to guide her hips tight up against him. She didn't need encouragement though. Her entire body was on fire and once her clit brushed against him, she began to rub herself against his length, seeking friction. 

"Wait, wait," he gasped. "Let me show you." 

He helped her push his painfully stiff erection between her thighs, wet with her arousal. Then he pulled her up against him, urging her to sit, tighten her legs around them, creating a mind-blowing friction where he was pressed up against the hot, wet center of her and an incredible sensation for her as she rubbed up and down his length.

She found a rhythm; both hands locked around his shoulders, thrusting herself against him with an increasingly rapid pace. She was panting now, embarrassment long forgotten as ripples of pleasure flooded through her. A delicious tightness coiled in the pit of her belly.

"Please…" she moaned. "Aidan…please…"

Aidan had no intention of making it easy on her. He rubbed hard at her clit, loving how uninhibited she looked, grinding herself against him. God, he'd wanted her for so long. He pushed her shirt up and pulled down the straps of her bra, freeing her breasts. His mouth locked on one pebbled nipple while he rolled and pinched the other between his fingers.

A faint shriek escaped her and her movements turned jerky. He knew she was close. Biting her nipple, he held her hips in place, thrusting against her frantically, wanting her to be with him when he came. It only took a few moments; her body tensed in his arms and she shuddered from head to toe, letting out a long, gasping moan. Aidan groaned against her throat and as he came between her still shuddering thighs.

Her hair was all over her face. But, Rainey realized, smiling into Aidan's shoulder where her head had landed moments before, she couldn't care less. In fact, both of her breasts were exposed and her panties were behind Aidan's head on the couch. And she absolutely didn't give a damn. She simply felt too amazing to care much about anything else.

A few moments of silence passed while Aidan's hands gently stroked up and down her thighs beneath her skirt. Finally, Aidan turned his head, kissing her exposed throat. 

A pleasant shiver went through her and, smiling, she whispered, "Still think Ansel Adams is a better stress reliever than me?" Aidan's answering chuckling washed over her and she melted into his arms when he lifted his head and kissed her.

Both of them jumped when a loud knock sounded at the door.

"Oh, damn, the Chinese food," Aidan said. Giving her a peck on the lips, he eased Rainey off of him and onto the floor. "Just sit here and you'll be out of sight from the door," he told her, tucking himself back into his sweats before standing up. He grinned at her. "This guy's about to get the biggest tip of his life."

"Why?" Rainey asked, looking up at him. 

She was shocked by the blatant lust in his eyes. 

Aidan raked an appreciative gaze over her disheveled appearance. "For not showing up ten minutes earlier."