"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.