"No! How many times do I have to tell you?" I complained. "It's NOT going to happen. Not now; not ever." "Cherie, you know you want to," Asher persisted. "Why do you continue to deny me this?" "Because I have to draw the line somewhere, and *that* is it. I absolutely will *not* do THAT." He wanted to be stubborn about it? Fine; so could I. I folded my arms and just glared at him. "Tamara, I was hoping you would be more...tractable in this. I do not understand why you insist on this stubbornness. This is something you were *meant* for."
I glared even harder. "Oh, stop *pouting*!" he growled, his patience wearing thin. "I am NOT...*pouting*," I growled back. "I will not do that, and you can't make me." Okay, so I *was* pouting. Asher's patience finally broke. His voice came quiet and very dangerous, "Actually, Tamara, I *can* make you. But, I do not think you would enjoy it. It would be so much easier if you would only acquiesce." I felt a tremor of fear. I knew Asher was capable of being quite cruel when he wanted to be. But would he really be that cold with me? I wasn't sure.
"Asher...," a warning voice came from the side. I caught a peripheral glimpse of Anita standing up and reaching for her Browning. I raised a hand, palm towards her, to warn her off. At the same time, Jean- Claude touched her arm. "No, ma petite, they must settle this on their own," he said in a warning tone. She sat back down, but she didn't look happy about it. I returned my attention to my master. "Is this what is meant by the term 'breaking' a servant?" I asked, anger beginning to warm my voice. "Only if you continue to force the issue, cherie," Asher replied. "YOU are the one forcing the issue, Asher," I countered. "I bet Jean-Claude never tried anything like this on Anita, and they seem to work quite well together. Why do *you* see the necessity for it?"
The pair in question just watched us in silence. Finally, Asher responded, "He loves her." Okay, *now* I was starting to *really* to get pissed off. "And you don't love me," I made it a statement, managing to keep the anger out of my voice. "Cherie, je t'adore!" he didn't try to keep the pain out of *his* tone. "But you are doing this," I said. "I *don't* respond well to threats, Asher." I knew it was foolhardy to call his bluff like that, but I was angry and hurt. Asher's expression changed from cold sternness to wry amusement. I didn't trust it. "No, ma rose d'acier, I can see that you do not." Huh? Was I actually going to win this argument? Seemed too easy all of a sudden. It was.
In a blink, Asher was standing behind me. I hadn't seen him move. His hand was on my shoulder, keeping me from turning to face him. I had a brief burst of panic and tensed to receive whatever attack he had in mind. But he didn't attack. Instead, he gently pulled the scrunchie out of my hair, releasing the French twist I had put it up in. Then he finger-combed my hair to hang loose down my back. He wrapped his arms around my shoulders and nuzzled just behind my left ear, drawing in my scent. THIS, I was so *not* prepared for. I think I forgot to breathe for a moment. My skin broke out in goose bumps, tingling and tightening in the most awkward places. "Mmmm, you've been using the shampoo I gave you," he murmured in my ear, his voice warm and velvety. My agitation went up about ten notches. He had trotted out his most seductive purr. I was definitely in trouble. Big trouble.
His fingers danced down my arms, feather light. I gave a shuddering sigh. My anger was getting harder to hold onto. (Since Asher was holding me so close to his body, I could tell that wasn't the *only* thing getting harder.) I heard an echoing sigh. I opened my eyes and was forcibly reminded that we had an audience. Jean-Claude and Anita sat there with almost identical looks of hunger on their faces. Like someone had just presented them with a decadently rich dessert. "You're not helping here," I told them, then gave an involuntary shudder, as Asher began nibbling on my ear. Anita at least had the grace to look embarrassed. Jean-Claude, on the other hand, merely gave me a low chuckle and a wicked little smile. That earned him a mock scowl and a punch in the arm from Anita.
"HEY!" I squawked, when Asher stuck his tongue in my ear. What *was* it with him and that tongue?! *Had* to be a French thing. He turned me around, grasping me to hi with one arm. With his free hand he tipped my face up towards his. He ran his thumb lightly down the line of my throat. All I could do was melt against him with a small whimper. "Now," he whispered, his mouth hovering just above mine, "ma rose d'acier, will you not reconsider and submit to my request?" "Bully," I whispered back, and closed the minute distance between us. When we finally parted, the last of my resolve had vanished, burned away in that one kiss. Damn, he was good at that.
"All right, I'll participate in you little video project." It *couldn't* be any more embarrassing than our semipublic make-out scene, could it? (Don't answer that.) I got the cold sweats when I realized just how close we had come to triggering the ardeur in both our guests. I'd a feeling that Anita was still having control problems with it. When or if Asher and I had a first time, I wanted it to be by my choice, not because of some preternatural compulsion. "Bon, cherie," Asher beamed. "I will arrange for my car to deliver you to the studio in Celebration tomorrow night."
THAT got my attention. "Celebration? We're gonna do this in Disney's version of *Stepford*?!" I was incredulous. Things were already starting to get weird on this "project" of his. "What is this 'Stepford' you speak of, madame?" Jean-Claude queried. "And why does it inspire such horror in your voice?" Anita answered before I could. "It's a fictional town that was the subject of a few books and a movie. Supposedly the perfect community, with some really nasty little secrets about how it maintained the facade," she said. "Come to think of it, the *perfect* place for vampires." I sniggered at that. It was too true.
"Why Celebration, Asher?" I asked. "Because that is where Alpha Wolf Entertainment is *located*, cherie." "Wait a minute!" I exclaimed, a little light beginning to dawn. "I remember seeing that name in the phone book the other day, when I was looking for something. I called the place out of curiosity. *They* said they only do high-end commercials for Disney and the likes. Is *that* what all this was about? A COMMERCIAL?!!" Now I was mad all over again. Partly at myself, though. "But of course, cherie," Asher replied landly. "What did *you* think it was about?" I felt my face begin to burn red. I REALLY didn't want to say out loud now what I'd thought I had been agreeing to do.
Asher raised one eyebrow elegantly, and Jean-Claude's wicked little grin was firmly in place now. I could almost *feel* Asher picking the images from my mind. "Oh ho! Cherie! You naughty fille!" he grinned at me. I scowled and growled at him. Laughing, he started to reach toward me, presumably to pull me back to him. I ducked his arm and move quickly to the other side of the room. When he turned in my new direction, I held up a warning hand. "Oh no. You just stay right there for now, and I'll stay over here."
"Very well, ma rose d'acier," he smiled at me like a parent indulging a petulant child. *Grrrr* "At least now, I can understand why you were being so...difficult. Really, Tamara, I would never ask you to humiliate yourself like *that*." Anita was smiling and shaking her head. "Don't feel too bad about it, Tamara," she told me. "It's an easy mistake to make with these two." "Ma petite!" Jean-Claude tried to feign outrage and indignation. I giggled.
Asher took advantage of the distraction to close the distance between us. Once again I found myself trapped in his arms. *sigh* "Is HE always this grabby?" I asked Anita, hooking a thumb towards Jean- Claude. "Worse sometimes," she laughed. "Stop that!" I giggled as Asher went back to nibbling at my ear. He wasn't usually this publicly demonstrative. "You're up to something," I said suspiciously. "*What*?" "Moi?" he murmured playfully. "Yes, you." I started to squirm as he worked his way down my neck to my shoulder. I really had to stop wearing tank tops around him. He chuckled wickedly. "I could always show you what *part* of me is up to," he whispered.
Then he quite deliberately nicked my shoulder just above the collar bone and began working the shallow wound with his tongue. "Ow! Dammit, Asher, I am NOT a chew toy!" I hollered. "You let those cats of yours chew on you," he said petulantly. "They're just kittens, Asher. EVERYTHING is a chew toy to them, and *they* don't draw blood," I grumbled. I twisted around in his arms to look up at him...and had to fight the urge to giggle uncontrollably. A vampire making a boo-boo lip has got to be one of the most hilarious things I have ever seen. "NOW who's pouting? Which reminds me," I grinned, "when do you want to schedule recruiting a couple of regular pommes de sang for you?" We can talk about that later, cherie," he smiled down at me, the pout vanishing instantaneously. "You DO love me!" I gave him a look and said, "I am *infatuated* with you, Asher. That doesn't mean I'm in love with you. Sheesh! I was infatuated with one guy for *four years*. I'll get over it."
"Don't be so sure of that, cherie," Jean-Claude interjected. "Asher is not that easy to 'get over'." I saw he was gazing wistfully at my master. Asher returned the look with a sad/sweet smile. They still loved each other after all these centuries. Well, *this* is awkward. Finally the moment passed. Time to get back to business. "Okay, about this commercial," I deliberately changed the subject. "WHAT are we advertising, and WHY Alpha Wolf?" "The commercial is to advertise the grand opening of our new, vampire-themed dinner theater, Dark Mirror," Asher replied. "And I recently became a silent partner in Alpha Wolf Entertainment. Disney owns part of it, as well. But the principle partner is Monsieur Zeeman."
Okay, that was unexpected. I looked over at Anita questioningly. "Richard 'inherited' it from Marcus," she explained. "Jean-Claude persuaded him to hang on to it as a supplement to his teacher's salary. Now the company is discreetly successful." That it was also a financial safety net if the Ulfric were ever to be outed as a werewolf, which would cost him his teaching job, was left unsaid but understood. "A dinner theater?" I asked. "I know that tourism is Orlando's life's blood, pardon the pun, but *please* tell me this isn't going to be more of the usual tacky tripe on runs into so often in the tourist district." "Non, cherie," Asher assured me. "It will serve fine French quisine, be *tastefully* decorated, and of course offer quality entertainment. It will also be reservation only dining, no children permitted." (I later saw what he had in mind for decor. "Tasteful" wouldn't have been the word I would have chosen. "Opulent" fit better in my opinion. It was done in French Baroque.)
"Now, amante de moi, perhaps we can negotiate some footage for my *personal* viewing," Asher purred. "Damn, you are *persistent*," I groaned.