As of Yet Untitled By Karishma Rated: PG Chapter Three Genre: Alt, Romance Parini@hotmail.com It was a few days later when I crossed swords with Darien alone. I had made sure to steer clear of him-as always-but this time, he seemed to go out of his way to pay more attention to me than usual. Ever since the-ahem-moment in my room, when he had seen me without my glasses, I often found Darien staring at me intently or smiling secretly in my direction. It unnerved me, of course, not knowing whether he was plotting a horrible prank or… whether he was flirting with me. One week ago I would have thought the latter notion preposterous, but now… My mother had always said that I should throw out my thick glasses and don some contacts. She had insisted, and my father had heartily agreed, that I would be attractive if only I didn't hide behind my dense lenses. I had contemplated the idea thoroughly, looking at myself in the mirror with, then without, my glasses. But the fact was, I was hiding behind them, I felt naked and vulnerable without them shielding my eyes. Anyway, the day came when I couldn't hide from Darien anymore. I was the kitchen, helping Lita, our cook, with lunch. I usually help out with the meals-and had been doing so for as long as I can remember-partially because I do love to cook, but mainly because it was a convenient excuse to stay away from the Terrible Two until absolutely necessary. Unfortunately, that day, Darien offered to help me in the kitchen. I would have laughed at the whole table's swinging over to stare at his face in shock, if I had not been one of those who were staring. Darien was far from lazy, but he just didn't-he wasn't- Let's just say he had never offered to help before. I wasn't sure he had even seen the kitchen. I was about to decline and offer the cliché: 'too many cooks spoil the broth' when he took my arm and ushered to me into the adjoining room before I could even open my mouth. We were silent as we worked except for the occasional order I gave him. Lita was off somewhere else, the main course being prepared. I just usually made the salad, desert and the little things. "Serena?" Darien sniffed painfully and I turned to find his eyes watery and close to spilling over tears. I lowered my gaze, completely alarmed, to find his thumb wrapped in a towel that was almost soaked in a red substance. "Ohmigod!" I shrieked and fluttered about nervously for a moment before swallowing hard and running over him. I grabbed his hand and lifted it gingerly. "Ooo, does it hurt? What am I saying…of course it hurts." I took it to the sink and turned the tap on. I jerked his hand under the liquid and slowly unraveled the towel. A second later I realized that the water wasn’t turning red from any blood. There was no blood. And as I yanked his hand up to my face for a closer inspection, I found out there was no cut. I glared at his now handsome, laughing face and looked over his shoulder and sure enough, he had been cutting onions. That had explained the tears. I looked down at the red towel in my hands and gingerly dabbed my index finger on it and tasted it. Ketchup. "Jerk," I seethed, gripping his hand tighter, wishing with all my heart I could break it. He stopped chuckling and grabbed my wrist as I prepared to leave. He swung me around to be even closer to his lean frame then I had ever been. I now found myself trapped between the hard counter and Darien. And although it wasn't a completely awful feeling-quite the opposite actually-I was thoroughly nervous. My anger dissolved at his proximity and I became increasingly nervous. "Don't be like that, Serena," he whispered and to my complete astonishment, he began to nuzzle my ear then my neck. My eyes widened as he slowly, gently took off my glasses and placed them on the blue counter behind me. He cupped my chin with surprisingly soft hands and tilted my face to meet his piercing, blue eyes. He lowered his head to kiss me and alarm bells rattled off in my head. I slipped away and laughed nervously, although it sounded like a gasping cough even to my ears. Lita where are you? I cried mentally as he grinned easily, his face turning even more gorgeous-if that was possible-and placed his hands behind him, gripping the counter and peering over at me expressionlessly. I could do nothing but return the gaze and wish desperately that I had my glasses, which were over by Darien, and I there was no way that I was getting any closer to him than I had to. I stupidly crossed my arms over my white tank top from across the kitchen and knew I had to break this stupid eye war. Besides from getting utterly ridiculous, there was no way I'd win. I cleared my throat nervously and walked over to my cutting board and resumed cutting tomatoes for the salad, feeling Darien's razor sharp eyes watching my every move. I worked mechanically with trembling hands, fighting the temptation to turn around and meet his gaze once again. I froze as I felt him move and step over to where I was. He tweaked my ponytail lightly and then reached across me to grab a black-handled knife off its rack, making sure I felt every inch of him behind me. I shivered slightly and then whirled around to tell him off and ask him what exactly he thought he was playing at here. I, unfortunately, didn't think precisely how close he was. And when I turned around, I bumped my head right into his firm chest. I laughed slightly and tried to distance myself from his unnerving body. But there was nowhere to go-unless I wanted to jump up on the counter and climb out the window-and that didn't seem like the brightest idea. "Do I make you nervous, Serena?" Darien asked huskily. He made no move to step aside to relieve my obvious discomfort and shifting. Yes, yes! You do! "Nervous?" I squeaked and winced at the shrillness of my voice. "No," better tone, I commended myself, "No, don't be ridiculous." He looked down at me and nodded slowly, amused, as if he didn't believe me and was humoring me. "Well…good." I cleared my throat for what seemed like the millionth time that day and lunged for my glasses and practically slapped them onto my face. I turned over to where he stood bewildered and smiled winningly and no doubt unconvincingly. "Well, let's go out and serve dinner, shall we?" I said brightly, grabbed the basket of rolls and promptly left the room. I huffed out a relieved sigh and pasted a smile on my face for the entire table's benefit. "Well, it's about time, Serena!" Mr. Sandborn scolded good-naturedly. "We thought you and Darien had run off together!" I froze and swallowed the lump in my throat. "What?" "We debated it and then decided we could always go after dinner was served. It would be less suspicious that way." Darien's smooth voice came from behind me. He placed the pot roast on the table and winked at me. My eyes widened at the gesture and then narrowed into angry slits. My father roared with laughter and then slapped Darien's back as he sat down. I took the seat next to Mrs. Sandborn, directly across from Darien, who hadn't taken his eyes off of me. I shot him a stern, warning glance, which he-being Darien-paid no heed to. Both our fathers prayed and we began to eat. Lita's cooking, as usual, was wonderful and we all said so. When my father commented on the perfect temperature of the pot roast Darien was quick reply. "Well, you definitely don't want things to get to…hot in the kitchen," my head snapped up faster than a cobra attacked and I met his cool eyes and raised brows. The others, seeing nothing awry with the comment, continued eating as I glared daggers at Darien. He stared back at me calmly and innocently. The rest of the meal was filled with barbs such as that, no one understanding the double meanings except for me, and of course, Darien. The rest of the vacation went on with no incident. I made sure I was never alone with Darien-it being far too dangerous. He being far too dangerous. That was the last vacation we all had together up at the house to date. I went off to finish my senior year in England and then stayed there for six full years of college. Eight years. That's how long it had been since I had seen any one besides my parents. They came to visit me in England. But I hadn't seen the Sandborns' at all. Mrs. Sandborn occasionally sent me a letter with a brief paragraph from Mr. Sandborn, but no contact was made between Andrew and I. And Darien. And now I was on a plane back to my childhood town to stay there for good. Back to see them all after eight long years. I had changed in more ways than one. My appearance not as much as my attitude. I had cut my blonde hair short since my mother wasn't around to nag me about keeping it long. I had finally gotten the contacts, and realized my eyes had gotten a deeper shade of blue. Although, I was still considered somewhat short at five foot six, my newfound sense of confidence added to my height considerably. College had done wonders for my shyness, as well as my social life. I was still quiet though, I supposed I would always be. Through all the differences in my life, my memory was still the same. And no matter the length in time, I still recalled the day in that kitchen with such clarity it startled me. Darien had probably long since forgotten, why couldn't I? I was going back for two main reasons. One being I was ready to begin working in my father's business and then take over when he stepped down. The other event I will be attending was Andrew's wedding. It seemed at twenty-eight, Andrew had found his match, Rita Evans. I couldn't wait to meet the blushing bride. Even though we had never met, Rita had contacted me in England and requested that I be her maid-of-honor. I immediately accepted and we seemed to become fast friends over the phone. However happy I was for Andrew, my anticipation was focused mainly on the younger brother. I knew I had a crush on Darien when I was younger-even I could admit that-but now I was over him. I was. I just couldn't wait to see them, that was all. After the wedding, we would all be going down to the summer house. My parents and I, the Sandborns', including Rita and her parents. The eight-bedroom house would never be as full as it was going to be that summer. I knew I couldn't wait to head down there again after all this time. I barely noticed the plane had landed and it was time to get off. My father had informed me someone I knew would be there to pick me up, but I had no clue as to whom. I snatched my light attaché case and slipped my black jacket over my simple, white blouse and blue jeans. Pulling my hair into a high ponytail, I figured it would look better like that then disarray it would be if I left it out. I decided to find my ride and then claim my baggage. I stood on tiptoe and scanned the area for anyone familiar. My gaze rested on a devastatingly handsome young man in black jeans and a black, silk shirt rolled up to his forearms. His tousled hair added to the picture of impatience as he talked on his cellular phone. He looked up at that moment and my heart sank and lifted at the same time at the sight of his cerulean eyes looking straight into mine. They had sent Darien.