Intentions

"Nice night."

"Hai."

Duke L'Orange glanced at the woman at his side. Her sword was no where in sight, and without it, she seemed softer somehow, in spite of the hand resting casually at the dagger in her belt. She stood straight, if not overly tall, and there was power in her lithe body even though the muscles were no longer tensed for action. Glittering eyes swept over the scene before her, surveying the beach below and the lighted boardwalk where tourists and locals passed by. A sea breeze swept up toward the two standing on the balcony of the penthouse, and she breathed it in, tilting her face up slightly. She exhaled in a sigh, closing her eyes for a moment before returning to her study of the moonlit ocean night.

"Remind you of home?" he asked softly.

"No," she said calmly. "My home is inland."

Duke looked back down, his one eye finding his younger teammates on the beach. A smile quirked his lips as Mallory shoved Nosedive beneath the waves and held him there.

"My father used to take us to the coast."

Duke looked at her sharply, surprised. Jen Lai seldom offered information about her past, and comments on her life before the Brotherhood were even more rare. Her face hadn't changed but there was something wistful about her eyes, and he was certain she wasn't seeing the beach anymore. He moved closer and laid a hand on her shoulder. Her reverie broke immediately and he felt her tense beneath his touch. He started to move away but changed his mind, stepping behind her instead and putting his free hand on her other shoulder. The hand on her dagger was no longer so casual.

Duke knew he was on dangerous ground. He moved closer to her and slid his hands down her arms, resting them lightly just above her elbows.

"I've put men in the hospital for less than this," Jen Lai commented.

"I know," Duke said at her ear.

"I suggest you let me go."

"You're not exactly a prisoner, sweetheart."

She turned, breaking his gentle hold and fixing him with a stern look. He noted, however, that her dagger was still in its sheath. He stepped close again and caressed her cheek, his other hand reaching for hers. Her face darkened and he heard the scrape of steel against leather. She brought the weapon up between them, resting the tip on Duke's chest. He didn't move forward again, but he didn't back up either, keeping his amber eyes focused on hers. He saw surprise and confusion there, maybe a little fear. His hand traced her jawline and then slid through the strands of silken hair that hung about her face. The fingers of her other hand still rested in his palm and he held them gently; she could have pulled away easily. Duke thought for a moment that she was trembling, and he leaned toward her.

Only to be stopped dead as he felt the cold edge of her blade against his throat. Her hand slid free of his and, responding to the added pressure on his neck, he stepped back. The blade was no longer against him but she held the tip between them as if in warning, her eyes harsh. The weapon shook with her hand, though, and he wondered.

"I always thought," she said, her voice edged with anger that uncharacteristically obvious as she lifted the blade a little further, "that this was one form of 'No' that any man could understand. Why is it that some persist in proving me wrong?"

"Because some prizes are worth any risk," Duke told her smoothly. "For them, having you would have been the ultimate heist. Any man who could have stolen your heart--or even your body--would have risen in standing considerably."

Jen Lai quirked an eyebrow in an unspoken question.

"I'm interested in something worth more than prestige," he said in answer. "Something that lasts longer, and isn't so easy to destroy." He moved toward her, until her dagger tip was against his chest again, and looked into her eyes. "Jen-" once more he lifted a hand to her face, but he jerked it back as her face hardened and her dagger swept upward. Duke threw himself back again as she brought the weapon around in a viscious arc. She was angry now, and she moved to the sheathed sword that was propped up behind the balcony chair. Duke bit back a curse. This wasn't going according to plan; he should have known she wouldn't let that blade out of her sight for long.

His activated saber came up just in time to catch her sword with a clang, and he was immediately forced to shift his weight to parry her smaller blade. She could have gutted him with that move, if she'd wanted to, but he could see now that her face had returned to its normal look of shielded calm. She wasn't out to hurt him, but she wanted to teach him a lesson. With a sword, she was his equal. But duel-blade fighting was her specialty, and she was more than a match for him when she chose to use both weapons.

She struck, he dodged, she struck with the other blade, and he parried, she followed up with the original blade, and he was hard pressed to free his sword and avoid both blades at once. Before long his breath was short and he had a stitch in his side.

"Don't you two ever stop?" he heard Nosedive say, his voice half teasing, half exasperated. The moment of distraction was one Duke couldn't afford, and his saber flew from his hand. Jen Lai's point was at his throat again, and it hovered there in a moment of indecision. Duke didn't believe for a moment that she would cut him, but he wouldn't have been surprised if she had decided to beat him black and blue with the flat.

She'd done worse to those before him.

Her cold eyes didn't leave his for a second as she sheathed her dagger, then she turned away and retrieved her scabbard, snapping her longer blade home.

Nosedive watched her leave, and turned to Duke, looking confused. Duke strode past him as if he weren't there, and the younger man's ears caught one muttered word as the one-eyed thief passed.

"D***."

***

Duke sat and stared at the blank wall, replaying the scene in his mind. He sighed and put his face in his hands. Stupid. So stupid. It would have been like something out of a movie, he would sweep her off her feet and she would protest, then she would surrender--

And he should have known better. How many times had his vision of himself gotten in the way of his ultimate goal? That was what had landed him in the Brotherhood in the first place, his dream of himself as a swashbuckling crusader against a restrictive society. By the time the glamour over his eyes had been lifted it was too late. He should know by now that other people couldn't be expected to live out his expectations of them, that they had expectations, feelings, wants of their own.

Jen Lai wasn't an actress playing out a script. Everything that she was, she was to the core of her being, everything that she believed in, she committed herself to. She was fire in a cage of ice, she was silk and steel. She was a woman of fierce emotion, beneath the veil of calm control.

So many had tried. He thought he could be different. Because they only wanted what they could see. He wanted that inner fire, the passion that made her so committed. He wanted to be the one to share that with her, the one she confided in, the only one that saw her unguarded soul through those sapphire eyes. He wanted--

That was just it, wasn't it. 'He wanted.' What did she want?

He thought back. All she had to do was pull away. When he'd held her shoulders, taken her hand. He'd been gentle; he hadn't held her there against her will. She could have broken his hold on her easily at anytime.

Her fingers had lingered in his. She hadn't turned her face away at his touch. He remembered the touch of fear in her eyes; she'd never been afraid of anyone. She'd never been really angry with them, either. Disgusted, perhaps, but she couldn't expect scum not to act against their nature.

'Maybe because they were more easily dealt with,' he thought to himself. Jen Lai's only response to anyone's advances had always been the blade. 'But I'm different. There's something in her mind that separates me from them. But I caught her off guard and she wasn't sure what to do, so she turned to the only answer she's ever had.'

Maybe there was something to that. Jen Lai let no one into her inner world; the very prospect of it must terrify her.

And here he'd come throwing his shoulder against the door; of course her reaction would be to shove it closed again. 'I should have thought about her feelings,' Duke thought in disgust. 'I'm no better than any of the others. How can I say I really care for her when I haven't even thought about what she needs from me?' His face flamed. He couldn't imagine what she was thinking of him right now.

'So what does Jen Lai want?' Duke stared at the untouched glass of ice water on the table and wondered why he'd ever stopped drinking.

She needed to trust him. She needed to know that he was safe, and that she was safe with him. That what he felt was unconditional, and the past didn't matter. It wasn't something that could be done in one night. In fact, after tonight's fiasco she might never trust him again.

He should have let her talk, he realized now. She had lowered her guard for a moment, and he should have showed her that she didn't need to be on guard around him. Instead he'd done the exact opposite.

Now he didn't want to imagine what she was thinking of him.

He looked up as someone knocked on his door and grimaced. He *really* didn't want to be bothered right now.

Duke shoved himself up and went to the door, fully prepared to tell whomever it was exactly where they could go.

Jen Lai stood in the hall, one hand resting on her dagger and her sword strapped in its usual place on her back. Silently she held out his saber hilt. Duke's hand flew to his shoulder and his eyes widened. He couldn't believe that he'd forgotten about it.

"I--Thanks." He took the weapon. She turned. "Jen, wait." It would have been more accurate to say she froze, rather than stopped. "Please." Jen Lai turned around. "I'm sorry," he said truthfully. "Come back, please. Come in." He stepped aside, wondering what the h*** he was doing, and giving her a clear path inside. She studied him for a moment, then stepped by him, every move she made a clear warning. One that Duke didn't intend to ignore.

"Sit down." He motioned her to a chair, sitting back on the couch far enough away that she wouldn't feel threatened. He picked up his glass and downed the ice water, searching frantically for words. "Jen Lai," he started, "I didn't mean to scare you. I'd never intentionally hurt you, I want you to know that."

"I do," she said, not looking at him. "And perhaps I--overreacted." There was a faint touch of red on her cheeks. "It was rather unexpected." Her eyes rested on him for just a moment before moving away again.

Duke cleared his throat. "Well," he muttered, "If I'd bothered to plan that I would have done a h*** of a better job. Apparently I should have put a little more thought into it."

"Then it is fortunate," Jen Lai said a little dryly, "That there was no one else there to witness our foolishness." Duke offered her a crooked smile.

"And I thought this was supposed to get easier with age. Or at least less awkward."

"It does seem to work in the reverse, doesn't it," Jen Lai replied, lifting an eyebrow and allowing a touch of amusement into her voice and face as she stood. Duke rose as well, offering her a hand. She took it, and he walked her to the door.

"At least we're mature enough to put this behind us. Forgive and forget, right?" He looked down at her. She nodded.

"Good night, Duke." She inclined her head slightly.

"Good night, Lady Ranshael," he answered, lifting her fingers to his lips. Again, the blush lit her face, and he touched her cheek softly with a faint smile. She pushed the hand away, but there was no malice in her gesture and she almost smiled back.

"We won't speak of this night again."

"No."

"Good." She hadn't moved; her hand still rested on his wrist where she had pushed him away. She looked up at him for a moment, then started to drop her hand and turn away. Duke caught her fingers again as they fell away and she stopped, looking back up. He caressed her cheek and leaned forward, closing his eyes the instant before their mouths met. Her hand tightened on his and she returned his kiss, heating his blood with the fire she guarded so carefully.

Then the door clicked, and he was alone.