Rating: NC-17 For sexual content and adult situations.
Distribution: Sanctuary. All others please ask.
Disclaimer: Story characters are purely fictional; any resemblance to any person living or dead is utterly coincidental.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The view from the corner of the darkened restaurant was vast and unobstructed - a most strategic vantage point. CW congratulated himself once again before succumbing to a bout of doubt. The more he thought of it, she'd sounded indignant and irritated - in no way intimidated or wary. He wasn't at all sure she knew who he was - that he wasn't one of the blasted reporters trying to corner her into an interview. What if she called his bluff and didn't show?
He scowled, unaccustomed to feeling insecure. The only other time, in his adulthood, he'd experienced this lousy feeling was six years ago, when he'd awakened to find . . . CW dismissed the memory of that long ago morning, snatching up the thin brown envelope that lay on the stark white tablecloth and tucking in the inside breast pocket of his business blazer. He stilled, drinking in the vision that had just stepped through the wide mahogany doors. Though his heart hammered and his mouth went dry, a canine grin still managed to find a place on his lips. He licked them in anticipation as he watched her turn and survey the room.
:: ----> :: ----> :: ----> :: ----> <---- :: <---- :: <---- :: <---- ::
While her coat was being checked, Lana examined her profile in the mirrored window of the Renaissance Hotel, taking in the way the navy blue jersey knit dress accentuated her lithe body. The critical frown was cut by a sudden twist of the lips as she remembered her friend's constant ribbing that she should needed to lend her some of
her hips and boobs. Lana had always looked more like a thin teenaged boy than a fully developed woman. This dress, with it's high boat necked bodice and slightly lower back, molded to her slim-n-trim torso, flaring out a little at the hips to drape attractively down just below her knees. The navy kid leather pumps added to her height and forced her backside out just enough to give her the feminine curves that caught many a man's eye.
She hadn't meant to dress to impress, but she certainly didn't want to give Camdan the idea that she was anything but a strong and very capable woman. Grimacing, she wondered if she should have donned her slate-grey power suit instead. At least she'd worn her hair in the all-business French twist, she sniffed, straightening her spine a little before marching into the ornate and formal dining room. A quick scan of the room brought her eyes point on with piercing clear blue ones - she suppressed a shudder as she made her way toward the ruggedly handsome man seated at the far corner table, make a conscious effort to hold her head high.
"You made it." Camdan's deep rich voice encircled her as he stood to walk around and pull a chair out for her. Lana wasn't phased, he'd always shown gentlemanly manners.
"I had a choice?" Lana countered softly, arching an eyebrow high, adding seriousness to the question. To CW it was a demonstration of determination, though small, a display of easy control. He let his lips twist slightly as he gently pushed the chair in toward the table. He paused behind her for a second before walking around to sit facing her.
"You look as lovely as the last time I saw you." Camdan began, leveling his gaze on her.
Though she felt the weight of his gaze, Lana kept her eyes on the table before her as she settled in her seat, placing her clutch within reach on the table. CW signaled the garcon over keeping his eyes on Lana's profile. Her calm exterior belied the tumult roiling inside - and not just because she feared he'd somehow learned her secret. Close proximity to this man had always sent her senses reeling, which was how she'd ended up a single mother in the first place. She cleared her throat, raising her head enough to look over at him, wanting very much for this evening to end swiftly.
Lana noticed there were no menus at the same time Camdan gave the young man instruction on what they would be dining on, and how he wanted it served. She felt her face soften a little as she admired his easy command. He turned his eyes back on her, catching the expression.
"You approve?" Both and the garcon waited until she dipped her head in affirmation. "Good." Camdan issued in a clipped tone then settled back in his chair.
Lana wondered then if she should broach the subject of their meeting, thereby taking control and not allowing him the upper hand. As powerful a man as she knew he was, he'd make her out to be a gold-digging scheming bitch, and she had no intention of that happening.
"You aren't the easiest person in the world to find, Darling." Camdan drawled in his light Scottish burr, accusation dipping with his words.
"And yet, here I am." Lana fenced, not at al feeling a flip as her counter.
"Yes - here you are. But, " Camdan looked down at the table as he sat forward, placing his elbows on the table, hands clasped and resting against his chin. "It seems you are not the person you made yourself out to be . . ."
AH! Lana relaxed - just a bit - at his accusation. He was put out because she was just a common girl - not the socialite he'd thought. No - she almost shook her head visibly. This man would not track her down just because he'd discovered he'd spent an enchanted evening with a common girl six years agon. She was sure he was purposely trying to get her to let her guard down. She said nothing, waiting for the other shoe to drop.
"Why did you lead me to believe you were something other than what you are? A -"
"Let me stop you right there, Camdan Wallace Dandridge." Lana interrupted, with a soft steel in her voice that could not be missed. "No, I am not, nor have I ever been, a Bostonian Socialite on holiday. I never told you that I was. YOU were the one that made up that scenario, I just didn't do or say anything to the contrary. While I'm not making that an excuse, I saw no harm in indulging either of us in what ended up being a simple one night stand."
Camdan's eyes went wide -
"A simple . . . " He blinked several times. "Is that
all you experienced that night?" His incredulity struck her as funny all of a sudden - but she didn't laugh outloud, didn't crack a smile.
"Camdan, let me tell you what I remember of that night. We met again at a posh party after having spent a delightful afternoon dashing about the Florida Keys. We laughed, we danced, we talked - laughed and danced some more. I drank a great deal of champagne, which wasn't the norm for me, and the nex thing I knew, I was on my back in a bed experiencing the most erotic things with a man I hadn't known twenty-four hours before. Sometime late the next day, I awoke, slipped from your bed and left to continue on with my life." She was getting a bit worried by the flummoxed expression that sat uncomfortably on his face.
"That . . . is . . . ALL . . . you remember?" His voice was low and hushed, dangerous. It was her turn to look confused.
"If there was something else . . ." An idea popped into her head - she wanted to dismiss it, but he'd begun to piss her off. "Jesus-Christ, Cam. I didn't take you for a man that desperately needed ego-stroking! I'm truly worried that you've spent six years trakcing me down just so I could tell you how
'good' you were -"
"ENOUGH!" Camdan bit out, causing Lana to stop abruptly, her lips parted slightly in surprise. Leaning forward into the table, he continued in tightly clipped speech, as if keeping a tight leash on his words. "I did NOT track you all around the world in order to have my 'ego stroked' as you so crassly put it." He sat back as the garcon appeared with two others in tow, bearing trays filled with food and a silver bucket filled with ice and a bottle of wine.
It seemed an eternity to him, the time it took for the table to be laid. He had to fight to keep from barking at the male servants to hurry up and leave them alone. He was hurt, astounded, a little intrigued - all alien feelings to him, except in connection to this little bit of a woman sitting across from him. He could snap he in two socially and physically. She was nothing - of no consequence in his world. And yet, she had the power to destroy everything his family had built in four generations - that he'd spent his life grooming for and maintaining.
Lana stared at the plate before her, swollen with food, and realized she was not in the least bit hungry, and wanted to be anywhere but seated across from the very angry man who, she was sure, would be making a meal out of her shortly.
"Please, eat." Camdan indicated the plate before her, using the filled wine glass he held up then carried to his lips.
"I've no appetite, I'm sorry." Lana looked away at the disagreeable look he gave her over the rim of his glass. "I'd rather we get on with this, unless you've made your point."
"I haven't." Camdan replied, setting the glass down carefully on the table, then picking up a fork and spearing a small slice of roast duck. Lana kept her eyes averted as he ate, remembering a very different scene six years ago.
It was a mere three months since the death of her father, and Lana was a complete and utter mess. Her already slim body was emaciated to the point of disgusting from lack of food, her long dark hair hung in lackluster stringy strands about her bony face. Eyes with no life in them stared out at nothing ringed with deep dark circles that made her look like a spectre from a medieval painting. Stephanie Strang, a life long friend of the family, had had enough of watching the closest thing she had to a sister slowly waste away. She'd book a flight for the both of them to the Florida Keys to have a week long vacation and ring in the New Year. Lana had resisted clear up until they were seated on the plane, slumping into a quiet sulk once they were in the air.
It took the whole week, but Steph's strategy had paid off. The sun and surf, along with the shopping and sightseeing had put some spark back into Lana's once stunning green eyes. The food seemed to have agreed with her too, and though to Steph's critical eye Lana still seemed on the thin side, she no longer looked like a poster-child for the Holocaust. They had taken a dinner cruise the day before New Year's Eve, and had met some rather influential and wealthy people who'd invited them to a pre New Year's Eve fiesta aboard their yacht the next afternoon. Lana, being the shy one of the two, hadn't wanted to go, but Steph had insisted and they'd found themselves have a grand time that Friday afternoon.
It was while she was chatting with a young doctor from New York that Lana was introduced to Camdan Wallace Dandridge, a young jetsetter and something of a playboy. The first thing she'd noticed was his eyes - the color of the Hawaiian Pacific where it met the azure blue sky. Though they were arresting enough in their color, it was the lifelessness they held, even as he'd given her a wide and bright smile. The second thing she'd noticed was the slight burr in his speech - understandable once he'd told her he spent a great deal of time in his ancestral Scotland.
Something clicked for them, Lana wasn't sure if it was two souls both grieving the loss of their parents and struggling under the weight of their future or what, but they'd spent the early afternoon through to dinnertime together, talking and laughing, leaving the party to go ashore, with Steph's blessing, together. Camdan had asked if she was going to attend the huge New Year's Eve bash at the luxurious Hotel Biscayne later, then had invited her as his guest when she'd said she hadn't planned on it. An hour after he'd dropped her off at her hotel, Steph arrived to find Lana trying on the beautiful emerald green lame gown they'd purchased on a whim a few days before.
All of this passed through Lana's mind in flashes as she sat waiting to for Camdan to resume his game of cat and mouse. When she turned her head toward him, it was to find him watching her intently, his food seemingly untouched.
"I seem to have lost my appetite also." Camdan attempted a smile that came out more serpentine than apologetic. "You seemed lost in thought - might I enquire . . ." Camdan's azure blue eyes followed the shake of her head, disappointment lanced through him yet again.
"Camdan, I'm at a loss as to why you're here." Lana started, looking down at her trembling hands. "It's been six years. I've moved forward with my life, as I expect you have. What is the point of dredging up a New Year's celebration six years ago?"
Once again Camdan felt a crushing pang of embarrassment that he could be so easily discarded by a mere slip of a woman. Though in the time he'd spent with this woman she'd never gushed at or over him as many woman within his circle had, he'd expected her to hold him with more regard than she was showing. To offer some appreciation of who he was.
"I suppose you had more to drink than I'd thought." He began, moving his plate to the right and taking up his wine glass once again. His lips turned in a half quirk as he examined the pale Rosé. "That, or you have very little appreciation for the state of matrimony."
Sanctuary // Fictional Fantasies // Love~Rasslin'Style