poster thanks to Sooheelocker of sooheelocker poster request shop!!

Chapter 6

Dara picked up the travel brochure in the plane. She scanned over the information but quickly put it back when she came across the phrase; 'Italy – Place of Love'. What a joke, she thought. She should have said no. She should have told him that she wanted to go home, but she'd agreed to go to Italy with him for some absurd reason.

"Will Chaerin be joining us when we arrive?" she asked him.

"She'll arrive tomorrow. Why?"

"I suppose the honeymoon is officially over then?" She tried to keep her voice civil when for some strange reason she felt like snapping at him.

"I suppose it is," he said with a wry smile.

"So, will I be entertaining myself for the next few days?" she asked now.

"I hope not," he told her. "I'm hoping to wrap this up in a couple of days, and then I can show you around a bit. There are some amazing sights to see, not to mention some of the most mouthwatering food you'll ever experience."

They weren't here to sight-see. They were here so he could fix a work related problem. Just because she'd agreed to accompany him to Italy didn't mean all was forgiven and everything was hunky-dory. It just meant she was sympathetic enough to understand he didn't want to fly back to Seoul and then out to Italy. From what little he'd told her, it sounded urgent.

"Don't worry about me. I'll keep myself entertained. You focus on your work."

Jiyong looked at her and raised an eyebrow.

"Are you telling me you don't want to spend time with me?"

"I just want to get home as soon as possible."

"Very well," he said, returning his attention back to the paper he was reading. "If that's what you want."

Within forty-eight hours Dara realized she'd made a mistake by telling Jiyong to concentrate solely on work. For a start, she missed him. They'd spent the last three days in Tahiti together, and now she felt as if she was going through withdrawals because she hadn't seen much of him for the past two days. She should have been trying to get her head together, to keep her defenses intact; but she found herself wandering around the house aimlessly, counting the hours until he returned home. She felt…pitiful.

Yoona was Jiyong's housekeeper and cook. She was lovely, but didn't speak much Korean nor English. She frequently told Dara go out for a walk. "Too pale," Yoona would tell her; "need sun".  She'd gone for a brief walk yesterday, but that had been a mistake too. There were couples everywhere and she didn't need to see people in love; it reminded her of what she'd never have.

If none of that was bad enough, her attraction to her unloving husband seemed to be increasing. She couldn't stop thinking about him. Last night she'd dreamed about him. Her physical attraction to him was so strong that she'd come to a decision.

Dara rummaged through her suitcase, but couldn't find what she was after. Yoona had unpacked most of her things away in the dresser, and she didn't know where it was. She zipped up her suitcase and dumped it unceremoniously on the floor, before marching over to the dresser to search through the drawers again. Finally she found it in the top drawer, buried under all of her undergarments. This would help her with her mission.

She removed all of her clothes and stepped into the lacy red and black teddy that Gummy had made her buy from Victoria's Secrets. Jiyong would never be able to resist her in this.

It was going to happen. He'd told her it was inevitable. What were her options here? If she waited a month, and he came to her, he would seduce her. She didn't want to be seduced. She didn't want to have her “no” changed to a “yes”. If this was going to happen, they would do it her way; on her terms. She would go to him. She would have with him and keep her feelings turned off. Maybe if she thought about it as the business transaction it was, that would help.

After she did up all the fastenings, she walked over to the mirror and applied a small amount of make-up. She sprayed on her favorite perfume. Once she thought she was finished, she studied her appearance in the mirror. Finding her self passable, she donned a black dressing gown and made her way into his room. He should be home anytime now.

One hour later the phone rang. Dara knew that Yoona had gone home for the day, so she picked it up. It was Jiyong. He told her he wouldn't be home for another hour. She went back into his room and waited for an hour. Once that hour was over, she waited for yet another hour. By that time she'd been waiting for three hours, and she felt remarkably stupid; stupid for having the idea in the first place, and stupid for spending that long waiting for a man. Was this what married life would be like when they got home? Would she spend her nights waiting for him to return home from work and his extremely beautiful P.A.?

Chaerin. She had been helpful and kind when Dara needed help planning the wedding; but that didn't mean the P.A. wasn't interested in Jiyong. What if Jiyong was so ually frustrated that he decided to go to bed with Chaerin? She was suddenly bombarded by images of Chaerin spread across Jiyong's desk; of him taking her hard and fast while she cried out his name. The sudden urge to lop Chaerin's head off with a machete or something equally sharp and hopefully painful, was unexplainable and certainly undesirable.

She made her way to the kitchen and opened the cupboard, looking for something; anything that would help take away some of the anxiety she was feeling right now. Finally, her hand landed upon a bottle of wine. She took it out and looked at the label. Grappa. That should do the trick. She located a glass and poured a fair portion into it. She was well into her second glass when Jiyong arrived home.

"Well," she said, "is this what you call an hour later?"

Jiyong took one look at his wife and knew that the trouble at work was only the start of his troublesome night. She was almost swaying in her chair, a glass of wine in front of her. He didn't need this, not tonight.

Jiyong took off his jacket and hung it over the back of the dining room chair, before he removed his tie and threw it on top of his jacket. Then he walked over to Dara and picked up the bottle in front of her. Grappa. He shook his head.

"Where did you find this, Dara?"

"It was in the cupboard," she told him. "What else is a girl to do, when she's left alone for hours by her husband?"

The word husband was slightly slurred, but not enough to disguise the almost seductive quality to her voice. What had gotten into his wife, other than the Grappa?

"You said you wanted to go home as soon as possible. If I'm working around the clock it's because you wanted me to," he told her.

"I'm sure it's made all the more appealing by your oh so helpful personal assistant."

"Yes, Chaerin is helpful, and my job is made easier by her efficiency and dedication. So what?"

"And the fact that she is very beautiful has nothing to do with why you like spending time with her?"

"I would prefer to be spending time with you, Dara, but you made it quite clear you wanted me to focus on work. That is all I'm doing." He leaned over her, "I'll keep myself entertained,' is what you said."

Jiyong grabbed her glass, walked over to the sink and poured out the contents. He didn't want to tell the office he wasn't coming in tomorrow because his wife had alcohol poisoning. He opened the fridge and pulled out a container of ground coffee beans. Measuring the right amount for the two of them, he put the coffee into the coffee machine, added the water and turned it on. He would have preferred a nice stiff drink, but she needed to sober up, and coffee would have to do.

"How many glasses have you had?" he asked her.

"I don't know. I was waiting for you and I was drinking while I waited."

He opened the cupboard above his head and took out two large mugs, before walking over to the fridge and taking out cream.

"You were waiting for me? I called you. I told you I wouldn't be home for a while."

He poured the coffee into the mugs, added cream and sugar for Dara, and left his black.

"You said you'd be home in an hour. I waited an hour. When it became obvious you wouldn't be returning home any time soon, I found the Grappa."

He walked over to the table and handed her a mug before he sat down opposite her with his own coffee.

"Why were you waiting? Is everything okay? Did you call home?"

"Yes I called home. Everything was fine. Perfect. They wanted to hear all about how much I was enjoying myself, about how wonderful Tahiti was."

"What did you tell them?"

"What they wanted to hear."

He nodded. "Very wise of you," he murmured.

"Yes, I just love lying to my parents." Her voice was dripping with sarcasm.

"Confidentiality was always part of our agreement, Dara. You knew that when you signed the papers."

His words were cold; his voice devoid of any emotion whatsoever. Did he not realize what she'd done? Did he not realize what she'd given up? Did he have any idea how much this had affected her? Of course not. He didn't care about feelings. He was Mr. Logic.

"Of course, the agreement." She slapped the palm of her hand against her forehead. "How could I be so stupid, to forget that I signed my life away for money; that I'm nothing but your ?"

"If you were my '', Dara, I would have slept with you by now. A wouldn't share my home with me."

She wanted to throw her coffee cup at his head.

"Am I supposed to be grateful that you're waiting? Am I supposed to be grateful for being given a roof over my head while I fulfill my duties? The only way to save my family was to marry you. The only way you would give me money was if I agreed to have your child. How did you think I would feel about this? What did you think I would feel about myself? I married a man who will never love me, for money. I agreed to sleep with him, for money. How could I not feel like a ?"

He'd thought this night couldn't get any worse; but now she was telling him she felt like a . Could he feel any lower than he did right now? Yes they had an arrangement, but the word e had never entered his mind – not once. He realized now, however, that that was how she saw herself, and that was worse than almost anything else she could tell him. To be responsible for this woman disliking herself in anyway almost tore him to pieces.

"I never thought you'd feel that way. I thought it would be convenient for both of us. I never thought you'd see it as ion," he told her quietly.

His honest confession sounded so sincere and for a moment she wondered if it was regret she heard in his voice, before she decided she was mad. This man wasn't capable of regret.