When Sharon woke the next morning, Bryan was gone and she might almost have thought that she had dreamt the night before except that as she sat up in the bed, she saw a note a note lying on the pillow next to her and recognized his bold and distinctive handwriting.

The message was brief, almost curt. 'Breakfast downstairs at seven forty five. B'.

That was all it said. He hadn't even said good morning nor even signed with his name, just with an impersonal initial.

There was no indication whatoever of the intimacy they had shared the previous night.

She ran a fingerprint over the writing,as though she were touching him and felt her inside dissolve completely.

She thought of Bryan and images of the memorable night they had ran through her mind and she trembled.

She wished that he had stayed behind so that they could have had another session. She knew that if he had still been there, she would have thrown herself at him again. At least she would have been the one to initiate it this time but he must have been very considerate of her exhausted state, else he would have woken her and had her again and again if that was what he wanted because she knew that she would have wanted that and very much too.

And then the phone rang shrilly, making her jump. She looked at it as though it was a snake that was getting ready to bite her. Then she suddenly felt that it just could be him ringing to say to her all the things that he hadn't out in the mote.

She blushed and lifting the receiver, huskily said, ' Hello?'

'Goid morning, this is your operator, it is seven fifteen, ma'am'.

'Oh... thank you....' Sharon pt the receiver down. She hadn't asked for a wake-up call, Bryan must have booked it.

Well that was thoughtful of him and no doubt he had gone back to his room very early so that nobody would see him leaving hers which was very considerate. Everyone on this floor was at the conference and some of them knew her. Gossips could spread like wild fire at these events.

She could remember at other conferences listening to the gleeful talk of who was sleeping with whom. These things does happen when people were away from home and went in for long long dinners with wine flowing freely.

But her and Bryan, well that was different, she thought in anguish. That hadn't been a one night stand at the conference, something to be forgotten easily or as soon as possible. Or... had it?

She sat very still on the edge of the bed staring thoughtfully at that brief, cold, impersonal note, devoid of all emotion. It was hardly a love letter, was it?'

He could have said something about last night or at least sign his name with something like, ' Love Bryan's. It could most definitely not have compromised him, now could it?

Had last night meant anything to him other than an easy conquest? He hadn't said that he loved her and hadn't made any promises either nor any propositions. One moment they had been quarrelling at her door and the next, on the floor making love in a frenzy.

Her face burned as she remembered the intensity of the love and passion they had shared on the floor, on the bed, the intensity had been immensely gratifying, liberating and edifying.

Stricken, she screwed the note up and threw it a Ross the room. What had she done? She had never behaved that way in her life before, had never been promiscuous and this was a lousy time to start. She wished she could turn back the hands of time, go back in time, wipe off those moments in his arms.

She was twenty six, and not inexperienced She had had a couple of serious relationships. One that had lasted for over a year before breaking up by mutual consent. They had both realised that it was not working and had become routine and it was better to go their separate ways with good memories than resentment and the other serious relationship she had had been so painful that she had not wanted to get involved with anyone else for a long, long time.

But no other man had made her feel the way she had last night. She hadn't even suspected that such incredible sensuality existed.

It had been like flying. She had flung herself recklessly from a mountain peak and found to her astonished gratitude that she had wings and she had been so sure that he felt the same.

She shut her eyes remembering his passion. That hadn't been faked but maybe she had misunderstood - great sex didn't need emotion behind it. Had she forgotten that some men just liked sex and could walk away afterwards without looking back no matter how good it had been? She had even read somewhere that it was easy for a woman to give herself to a man because she was emotionally involved and not just because she felt like having sex. So to a woman who was not a commercial sex worker, emotion came before sex but that was not the case with the man because he could have sex without being involved emotionally with the woman. So maybe that was exactly what had happened last night and she was judging his passion based on her own emotions.

But was Bryan really like that? Oh God, how was she going to face him this morning? The thought of breakfast made her want to throw up. Eating breakfast with him, having to look at him, remembering and knowing that he remembered.

She recalled her first impressions of him. The good looks cloaked ruthless determination. He had killer eyes, a mind like a computer. It made him good at his job but a poor risk as a lover. That was the man who took you last night, she thought with a pang of stricken shame.

As soon as he sensed that for some reason you were vulnerable to him, he took what he could and walked away.

How had he known that he could do that? How had she betrayed herself? Pale, she felt her stomach heaving. A hand over her mouth, she ran into the bathroom and was violently sick.

She sat on the floor sobbing for minutes on end, a cold wet towel against her feverish face.

After sitting on the floor for so long and crying her heart out, she realised that she couldn't stay there all day. She had to go down to breakfast because he was capable of coming up to get her and she didn't want that- she didn't want him walking back into her bedroom. The very idea wanted to make her want to throw up again.

She showered and put on a dark grey pleated skirt, a lemon shirt, a grey waist coat over that. She combed her auburn hair into an elegant French pleat and did her make up. Clipped neat silver earrings on her ears and the considered her reflection.

She wanted to look businesslike, cool and remote.

Bryan Ferdinand wasn't going to find any weakness in her today, never again in fact.

She had lied to herself for so long, telling herself that she hated him while she was in fact carrying a torch for him. Last night, the torch had set her on fire but it had burnt out now, thankfully, all that was left was blackened earth and emptiness.

Now she really did hate Bryan Ferdinand.She would be armoured against him from now on.

She collected her conference briefcase, the notes, the folders, the printed material they kept being handed and never had time to read.

Head up, she took a deep breath and went down to the dinning room. She paused in the door swallowing.

Yes, he was already there, sipping orange juice, turning the pages of a copy of the Financial Times, no doubt, yesterday's paper. Today's issue would not have reached Rome yet.

This morning, he looked grimly formidable in a dark suit, the jacket open to show his tight fitting waistcoat, immaculate white shirt and dark blue silk tie. His face was closely shaken, unshadowed, his black hair, sleek. He looked like he had had a great night's sleep, damn him, unlike her.

He must be as cold as ice. Last night she had been utterly convinced that he wanted her as much as she wanted him.

She watched as he put his half finished glass of juice down, his long fingers steady. Hard to believe that those same hands had taken her to heaven last night.

She flinched from the memory of his lovemaking, bit her lip and tasted the salt of her own blood in her mouth. Damn him. Damn him.

He closed the newspaper, glanced up, caught sight if her, his eyes narrowing, searching her face. What was he looking for? A sign of how much he had hurt her? She showed him a shuttered face, saw his brows flick together as if he was disappointed. If he thought that he was having any more fun at his expense, he was sadly mistaken, she thought grimly, walking towards him.

He rise to his feet. 'Good morning', he came round to hold her chair for her and she sat down, very conscious of him as he pushed her chair inwards again, unable to hide the flinch she gave as his hands brushed her shoulder.

Bryan gave her another if those piercing looks, his black eyes chilly. 'Did you sleep well last night?'

The bite in his tone didn't escape her. She wanted to hit him, yell at him but she fought to keep her face as icy as his own.

'Yes, thank you. Did you?'

Before he could answer, the waiter arrived and she ordered coffee, orange juice, prunes with natural yoghurt and toast.

When the waiter had gone, she asked Bryan stiffly, 'What did you want to talk about anyway?'

'Your opinion on the conference discussion, obviously, or of what you have heard so far', he coolly said as though they were mere acquitances. You were making notes all the time in the conference hall, I noticed.

He always notices everything, she thought. 'For David', she said aloud.

His mouth twisted. 'Of course'. His eyes stabbed at her across the table suddenly. 'Did you make notes last night, for David?'

White, she whispered, 'Shut up. Damn you. Shut up!'

The waiter came back with her orders and poured her a large cup of Fresh coffee,offered cream or hot milk.

'Black, thank you', she said hoarsely, spooning the creamy white yoghurt over her prunes, feeling her stomach churn at the very idea of eating them, but forcing herself to do so.

She had to seem normal, calm, unworried at all costs. She mustn't let him know how much damage he had done to her.

The waiter refilled Bryan's cup, 'I'll bring your toast now'.

When he walked away, Bryan said in his remote, cool voice, 'May I read your notes or are they for David's eyes only?'

Sharon glanced at him secretly through her lowered lashes, hating him. 'You mean, is there anything about you in them?No, there isn't and there won't be, don't worry. I won't be telling David any private anecdotes'.

'I'm sure you won't', he said, his voice stinging, 'Hasn't it occured to you yet that I might?'

Her face grew taut, white as bone. She watched him with bitter contempt. 'Was that all it was all about? Was that your game plan? You got me into bed so that you could tell David and wreck my....'

'Chance with him?' he drawled, mouth twisting.

'Reputation!', she said. 'I know how ambitious you are, I think that you see me as some sort of threat to your plans. If I married David, I'd stand in your way, wouldn't I? But I didn't think that even you would sink to seducing me just so that you could run off and tell David about it!'

That got home. Dark red filled his face and he looked at her savagely. 'And I wouldn't! I am not the type to kiss and tell, you needn't worry'.

'Am I supposed to say thank you now?' she asked icily.

There was a barbed silence, the Bryan clipped out, 'What about your conference notes? Can I see them or not?'

'Oh, why not?' she said wearily, 'But they are in shorthand'.

'That's no trouble. I can read shorthand'.

'I might have know you could', she said bitterly. 'You are an expert at everything, aren't you?' Including seducing women. He was very good at that. He must have had a lot of practice to be such an expert.

His eyes glittered, but he answered flatly. 'I did a business course before I went to the university. Shorthand, typing,computers. I've found it very useful.

She tried to match his level tone. 'I use a rather scribbled shorthand of my own though. Wouldn't you rather wait until the notes have been typed?'

'Not unless this is your roundabout way of refusing to let me see them.

'Oh, very well', she said, knowing that he left her no choice, got out her notepad and gave it to him.

'I'll read it some time today and let you have it back before we leave', he said putting it into his own briefcase.

The waiter came back with their toast. Sharon took hers with black cherry jam and pretended to eat it while Bryan ate his with marmalade.

They talked about the conference as they finished their breakfast. Then Bryan looked at his watch.

'The car must be here by now, we'd better go'.

The drive to the conference hall this time was endless. Sharon wondered when it would come to an end. The venue was not far from their hotel but today, the distance seemed to have increased tremendously. The car was claustrophobic, stifling her and making her feel like screaming, shut up in it with Bryan. His body far too close, every movement he made tearing at her nerves and making her sweat.

She was so tense that as they got out of the car to go into the conference, she caught her heel on the Kerb.

Bryan put an arm around her to stop her from falling, and as their bodies touched,Sharon had that familiar dizzying sense of the world spinning round her.

She pushed him away, trembling and as she did so, caught sight of a dark red graze on the side of his throat, just under his ear.

Heat enveloped her as she realised what it was. She had bitten him last night in the last moments of their lovemaking. She hadn't realised that she was leaving such obvious marks. What if someone noticed, made a joke about it? She would want to dink to the floor!

'Oh, for goodness sake, stop looking at me like that!' Bryan said his face I ily hostile. 'You are as safe as houses with me after last night. I won't be trying my luck again. David is welcomed to you'.

He turned on his heel and walked away and she slowly followed, fighting tears.

Bryan's delivery of David's speech was impressive. He had the full attention of the conference and a number of questions were asked all of which he was able to answer without needing to consult with her.

A group of women from one of the biggest merchant banks was there and their utterances showed that they were smitten by him. One was even bold enough to say dreamily, 'I wonder what he is like in bed'. This brought about a gale of laughter from them all.

Sharon felt her face burning. She was glad nobody she knew was close enough to overhear the conversation and notice her blush. They might have put two and two together.

The day dragged on, Gerhard was having lunch with some important people from the German bank' fraternity and she only saw him briefly on the corridor. The day seemed to be against her. Being with Gerhard and seen his admiration would at least have increased her confidence in herself and given her something to take her mind of Bryan and the events of the previous night which had at the time been so beautiful that she had wanted a repeat this morning but his coldness, impersonal attitude, icy indifference and rude remarks had spoilt it all for her with the stinging shame of knowing that she had allowed herself be taken by the wrong person and had fallen for him. What was she going to do now? Why did she have to come on this trip at all? Why did David have to fall I'll? Why had she cared so much for David that she had not excused herself from going on this trip with this arrogant and remote, cold hearted son of a gun?

Apart from Gerhard, Bryan was busy too, at least she was spared the torture of his presence that afternoon, and when their car arrived, there was no sign of him, so she went back to their hotel alone.

The ball was the final event of the conference and Sharon had been looking forward to it. But she could not face going, not after last night. On an irresistible impulse, she picked the phone and dialled the airport.

'Is there a plane for London this evening?' she asked.

'Yes, please'.

'Is there a free seat on it?'

'There definitely is ma'am'.

'Okay thank you' Sharon said as she booked herself on the plane, wrote a note to Bryan and went downstairs to check out.

Two hours later, she was in the air on the flight back home to London and away from the disturbing and cold Mr. Bryan Arrogant.

***************************************

Bryan got back to the hotel late and was not happy after reading the note Sharon had written.

He could not fathom what the problem with the girl was.

The first night, he had been sure that she wanted him as much as his need for her. But after his kisses and caresses which she returned with a fervour he found encouraging and exciting, she had accused him of pilling her up with wine so that he could take advantage of her.

He could not deny that he had wanted her right from the first time he saw her. He had told her as such last night. Oh last night. He had felt like he was flying.

He had wanted her as she came down with her short sexy green gown and all eyes had been on her. He had not been able to take his eyes of her.

He had had an irresistible urge to touch her which he had done while suggesting the food she should sample but he had not intended to get her drunk or light headed and then taken advantage of her.

She had wanted it, he was sure. He saw how shaken she had been when she saw those two lovers going at it in the dark shop doorway.

He had been greatly aroused too. He who had been keeping a tight leash on his desire for her. But the sight just loosened all his resolve and he found himself loving her there in the dark and truely if not for the interruption, he might not have waited to get to their room before taking her - he would have taken her there and then. The girl made him lose control.

He was not happy about the words he said to her then nor this morning and he saw how shaken she had been after hearing his words but she had also hurt him by the words she had spoken and how cold and remote she had been after the memorable night they had had.

He had hated her then because he had thought that that night was going to herald a new beginning to a more intimate relationship between them. He had not wanted a one night stand.

Now just when he was looking forward to attending the ball with her, she left suddenly. Damn her!

She must have gone back to her beloved David. He could not fathom what David had that he didn't. How could she choose David over him? Could David satisfy her the way he could? Maybe David could financially but sexually and otherwise, without sounding immodest, he knew David was no match for him and though she had realized it last night but obviously he had been wrong.

He had felt a kind of connection with her and thought that she felt it too but he had been mistaken. She made his blood run hot and cold at the same time, bringing out the best and worst in him. He hated her and yet desired her greatly. She was like an itch that just won't go away no matter how remote he tried to be. And the worst of it all was that she didn't care. Imagine flinching away from his touch after what they had shared last night. Who would not be hurt? Damn her. Damn her.