First Impressions

Chapter Two
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In a palatial mansion located in a remote part of Russia, Theodore Dostoyevsky sat in his hunter-green dining room, drinking a mug of rich coffee as he rifled through a pile of papers. He set the cup down with a sigh, burying his aching head in his large hands. When he felt his wife's warm hand settle on his shoulder, the man felt some of the misery fade away, and he looked up into Katerina's face.

The beauty had not faded with age and sorrow, only heightened it in Theodore's eyes. Slight wrinkles had formed around the sides of her wide lips, and besides her beautiful brown eyes, while her dark hair had become streaked with silvery strands. Theodore forced a smile onto his face, but he did not fool his wife.

"What's wrong, dear?" she asked in her low, comforting voice, taking a seat on the oak chair besides him.

"Nothing is wrong," he responded coolly, but when Katerina's steely eyes bore into him, the man relented. "I've been thinking about our children," Theodore admitted reluctantly. Immediately, his wife's eyes softened, becoming moist with held-back tears.

"I think of Daniel and Kayla constantly," Katerina fiddled with the sparkling diamond ring on her left hand, not meeting her husband's gaze. "Do you suppose... I mean, I wish we could contact them... have them come back to us." A tear slipped down the time-worn face, and burned a path to her chin before Theodore brushed it off with his thumb.

"I think it's time they were brought back to Russia."

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The light flowery scent infused his senses when he woke up to the next morning, floating through the pounding headache that was the result of drinking. When his mind had uncleared from the drowsiness that accompanies the first few minutes after waking up, he noticed almost unconsciously that his arms were wrapped around something infinitely soft and feminine. Had he brought home a girl last night? Danny frowned. No, he hadn't, he knew for a fact that he had left the bar alone, despite his friends' protests.

Almost without breathing, Danny stared at the still sleeping intruder in his bed. Clad in an extremely oversized shirt- HIS shirt, as a matter of fact- the collar had slipped to reveal the curve of her pale shoulder, and he noticed with consternation that the white skin was marred with faint yellow-green bruises that were shaped together in the form of fingers. His dark eyes scanned the small oval of her face, hidden by the mass of pretty mahogany hair. Unwillingly, his long fingers gently swept off the strands, and was overwhelmed by a strange mixture of emotions.

The face was as white as the rest of her skin, and her long eyelashes made her seem as vulnerable as a child. His face clenched as he saw the slightly swollen flesh of her cheek, almost imperceptible unless viewed up close. Suddenly, the girl shifted against him in sleep, her breasts pressed against his, her long legs brushing against his loins. Passion flared to life within him, and he wondered what it would be like to taste her moistly raspberry colored lips, when the girl's eyes sleepily opened.

When she first assessed the world around her, Anne's eyes focused on the dark brown ones boring curiously, and angrily into hers. Confused, she blinked, wondering if she was still asleep. Then she realized that she was lying upon a man's strong arm, the hand of that hand lost in her reddish brown hair while the other hand was lightly touching her tender cheek. In a flash, Anne moved away from him, feeling frightened.

"May I ask you who you are? It seems only right, since you were sleeping in my bed," the man spoke in a falsely reasonable tone which belied the malice clearly flashing in his eyes. She stiffened, then moved to get up. Danny got up as well, wincing at the combined pain of his head and the loss of feeling in his arm.

"I suppose you are Danny," Anne said reluctantly, then noticed she was standing in the room with nothing on but a T-shirt in front of her best friend's brother. She blushed, and quickly took the coverlets from the bed to wrap around herself.

"Well, now you have the upper hand. You know my name, but I do not know yours. Do you mind acknowledging me who the fuck you are before I am forced to call the police?" he asked pleasantly, dragging his fingers through his tousled dark brown hair, feeling extremely out of sorts. First of all, he had this hangover to deal with. Secondly, he had this chit with lovely gray-green eyes and long white legs in his room to deal with. Thirdly, he had a fine erection to deal with. Decidedly, the last one was the easiest to deal with. If only the first two on his list were to leave him, Danny would be fine and dandy.

"You smell like alcohol." Anne glared at him. "Have you been drinking? That is not good for you." A little strange gasping sound emitted from her lips as he took the few steps that separated the two, and dragged her to his chest firmly, lowering his face to hers until their noses were nearly touching.

"Enough with the inanities," Danny growled, causing a thrill to pass through Anne. Despite the fact that he was three times stronger than her, Anne didn't feel the encompassing, deafening fear that had tore through her at Uncle Edward's brutal touch. "Tell me who you are," he said in that low whisper that was at the same time a threat and a promise.

"I won't," Anne responded breathlessly, surprised at her daring. The dark eyes turned into an indecipherable black before his lips descended on hers, and the world disappeared for Anne in a rush of air.

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Author's Note: I desperately need some fresh ideas for this story lol because as usual I have no idea where it's going at the moment. I want to draw Anne and Danny closer together but I haven't the foggiest how to do that... Thanks for reviewing! It makes me feel quite special!