Sometimes I like to imagine that really he's good. That maybe this isn't real. He's some sort of undercover spy working for MI6 that this is all a front. A front so that he can discover more about his enemies. That in fact he's only ever killed people that deserve it. That really he loves me but it's too dangerous for him to show it. But then I snap into reality and am ashamed of my thoughts. They are so childlike and I know, I just know that I can't change who he is.

Im awake in the darkness. I am alone. He is not sleeping beside me like he normally would. I glance at the bedside clock-taking note of the early hour. The sun has yet to rise and I am surrounded by a deathly darkness. My body and mind are no longer tired. I've slept too long.

My mouth is dry and I'm aware that I'm thirsty. Cautiously I make my way out onto the landing and down the main staircase. I try to remember where the kitchen is in the darkness. My hand touches against a light switch and a light flickers on to show the kitchen.

I grab a glass and fill it up from the tap. My mouth gulps down the water as if I haven't drunk in months not hours.

I go to leave and switch off the light. Just as I begin to turn I notice a small beam of light coming from the far side of the kitchen. My curiosity is aroused. Who would be up at this time in the morning?

I move over to the light and realise that the light is spilling from under a door. I open the door that I hadn't noticed before. The light comes from below and displays many steps. I can now hear a muffled banging sound. Almost like gun- shots. My heart freezes and a thin line of terror runs through me. My brain wills me to go back but my body wills me to go forward. The gun- shots are getting louder as I climb down the many steps.

I finally reach the bottom and push open the door in front of me. Artificial light spills into my vision. My eyes adjust and I see him there standing with a gun firing shots at a moving targets. He doesn't miss a single one.

I stand there watching him for a small moment; admiring his form. He's standing in no more than a pair of drawstring pyjama bottoms his torso on display. My eyes roam over the familiarity of his sculpted body. His arms are held out straight and he continues to fire without stopping for a break.

I'd like to think it was lust not love. But I know its not. I've had all that would cure my lust for him so it's not a wanting for his body because I still want more. Sometimes I lie awake at night trying to figure out why I love him and when it happened. Honestly I think I knew long before I fell in Love with him that I would.

I'd been sitting in a small coffee shop sipping preciously at my warm delightful coffee while in my boredom filling out a crossword. When I became aware of a shadow standing over me. I knew exactly who it was. I chose to ignore him and concentrate on a crossword clue, which I really couldn't get:

Widely cultivated ornamental, but poisonous flowering shrub with evergreen leaves and clusters of fragrant pinkish or red flowers.

"How about dinner Wednesday?"

"No." I said barely glancing up. I didn't want to meet his eyes.

"Ok. Thursday it is. I'll send a car to pick you up."

"No, no. Can't you take a hint? I just want you to leave me alone. Your turning into some sort of stalker."

From the corner of my eye I could see amusement in his eyes.

"Look, what is it you exactly want from me?"

"I thought it was obvious. Dinner."

"That's all one Dinner? What exactly do you hope to achieve? I get that you're all powerful and good-looking, but really you're not the guy for me. I have a boyfriend."

"I can sort that out." Back then I didn't realise the full extent of his words. To me he was just a rich millionaire. "I know you're not happy with him."

"You don't know anything. Look If I agree to this stupid Dinner will you just leave me alone."

"Maybe." With that he stood up and went to move away. "The answers Oleander."

Once he'd left the coffee shop I'd hastily filled in the answer. It seems funny then when I didn't realise just who and what he was. I was so relaxed with him and I wasn't scared of him like I am now. Then I knew he was connected to my father's – then accidental- death. I knew that I couldn't really hold it against him. It wasn't his fault or so I thought.

Then I had fought him with as much fire as I could. Now? I would send the odd insult his way. I wonder if I bore him now with my compliance. Sometimes I don't comply when I have the energy to resist him. I've never been one for denial or resistance. I think that's why I so readily accepted my love for him. It hurts sometimes but I know it would hurt more if I thought my feelings were reciprocated and found they weren't. I suppose a small part of me is glad he doesn't love me. If he did I think I would be terrified. What would the future hold for us? We would never be together it would be too dangerous. He told me once that if he ever fell in love they could never be together. So maybe I'm glad that he doesn't love me because at least Im with him if its only in body.

I like this theory but I think I'd rather like it more if he said he loved me.

A thin frown covers his lips. He's not enjoying it. He looks as if he's doing it out of necessity.

The targets are now moving at an incredible pace. He hits everyone and right in the bullseye.

He stops suddenly. I can see the sweat of concentration on his brow. His torso is heaving ever so slightly.

He drops the gun to his side and turns to look at me. His eyes deep and penetrating hit my eyes. His gaze is so strong that im almost knocked from my balance. His gun is poised and directed straight at my head.

I watch as he pulls the trigger. The bullet shoots through the air, too fast for me to register it or move. The bullet nestles into wall behind me a millimetre from my left ear.

My hand trembles as relief flows over me. Some may think that he missed, but he never misses. That little stunt was designed to scare me he had no intention of killing me.

"That was for earlier." A smirk appears at his face. He is referring to my slap earlier. See I can never win either way I end up losing.

He moves to the other side of the large room that I have never seen before. I notice that it is filled with gym equipment. He lifts his fists up and starts to punch viciously at the punch bag. I move nearer watching as his punches get harder and harder, as his face fills with more and more aggression. He seems unaware of my presence.

I place a hand firmly on his shoulder and he seems to carelessly brush my hand away, but with more force than it looks. I lose my balance and I can feel myself topple backwards. The ground is concrete and I know my head is going to hit hard against the floor. But just as my head should be hitting the ground I find my head hovering just centimetres from the floor. I feel his strong and sturdy arm wrapped around my back, his fingers digging into my waist. I open my eyes and see his eyes gazing down on me. There is triumph in his eyes.

Is there anything that this man cant do part of me realises with much agitation, while the other part marvels at his strength like a love- sick puppy.

"If it wasn't for me you could have cracked your head against the floor Pooja," he says.

"If it wasn't for you pushing me I wouldn't be in that danger," I say through gritted teeth.

"Touchy, today I see."

"Will you please help me up instead of leaving me hanging here," I scowl up at him.

"You're the helpless damsel in distress and I'm the hero, you see," he grins as he flings me up crashing into his body.

You'd have to be human to be a Hero I nearly say. His hand finds its self placed on my bottom. I push away from him; more worried what I'll do against his muscular, sweaty body. Which is having an effect on my body.

"Helpless, my arse, " I mumble to him. He raises an eyebrow in an irritating way, which shows me he doesn't believe me. I turn and storm away from him. I reach the gun shelf at the other end and pick up the gun he was using earlier.

I swiftly turn around and shoot while moving nearer and nearer. Then I stop my arm is aching. It's been a while since I last used a gun and a while since I had so much confidence. Maybe there is something in the water.

He's standing in exactly the same place as before. His head turns and he looks at the now swinging punch bag. 6 bullets spread across the width of the punch bag with an even distance between them.

He looks back at me a hint surprise in his eyes.

"That was for earlier," I say mimicking him.

"I'm impressed. Where did you learn to shoot like that?"

"My father." My eyes are like daggers.

His mouth opens and he's about to say something when a ringing sound interrupts him.

He moves over to the wall and lifts a telephone hanging on the wall.

"Yes?"

"Ok-"

"Yes-" He glances at me.

"Fine-" He hangs up.

He walks over to the gun shelf and takes two guns. He hands a small revolver over to me. His fingers brush over mine as he passes the gun, my stomach lurches at his touch.

"This might be useful. Now we are leaving we need to go get changed."

"What? You're giving me a gun?" I follow after him up the steps. "I could kill you..."

"But you wont," his confidence angers me but what angers me most is that he is right.

Guns

They say Love is blind. I can see the truth in those words. But that's the thing I can see. I see who and what he is yet I still love him.

Im curled up in his car; the leather-heated seats seem to provide me with more comfort than he ever will. He's driving and his arm swiftly moves the car through its gears. The car speeds along the deserted early morning road. The sun is just rising and there is eeriness in the atmosphere. I can hear the humming of the radio in the background it soothes my mind. I gaze out and watch while the landscape passes me by. We're travelling away from the bustling city and into the countryside.

And for once it is just he and I. Alone. There is no driver; there are no bodyguards. It is just I and he wrapped up in the small confines of his luxury sports car.

I glance over and see the look of concentration in his eyes as he stares ahead as the road bends and weaves.

His eyes flicker up to the rear view mirror and I see his brow furrow.

"What? What is it?"

"Unwelcome guests."

I turn and look out through the back to see a black car racing behind us. Its windows are darkened and I can barely make out the driver. It looks like no normal car that would be travelling down a country road at this time. I turn back and look at him.

"Do you think it's them?"

He doesn't answer me but I see the speed on the car grow bigger. The trees and fields rush past in a blur of green.

Then the unmistakable sound of a gun being fired erupts in my ears. I glance behind just to see the back window shatter showering the back with glass. My heartbeat quickens and all I want to do is scream but my fear controls me.

The car swerves from side to side trying to avoid the fire bullets. My stomach lurches as we move. I feel like I'm on an unpleasant roller coaster. I feel sick. I feel fear.

My head shoots round and I see there is a deep scowl written over his face.

"Damn it, they must have been spying on us," he mutters. I feel as if Im not there. I feel as if im in darkness and the only sound I can hear is the manic firing of guns.

He reaches into his shirt pocket and pulls out a gun and over his shoulder he shoots. I watch terrified as he shoots back. I pull my head forward just in time to see that the road is about to take a sharp bend and we aren't turning. There is a huge tree straight ahead. Kabir hasn't seen the bend. We should be turning. In my mind I can see the car crumpling into it. We still aren't turning. Oh god I'm going to die. Fear is gripping me like my grip on the seat; deathly.

" KABIR," I scream. He pulls round narrowly missing a bullet, which embeds its self in the dashboard. Another bullet thuds against my seat. The seats are thick and I'm still alive. I don't feel relieved I still feel bloody terrified. My body freezes. We are going to crash. The bend is nearing and we are going to hit the huge tree in front of us. Oh god I'm going to die screams through my head repeatedly. My fear grips my tongue and all I can do is watch.

Just as the tree looms dangerously close the car swerves round the bend at an incredible pace. My mouth opens and I gulp in air unaware that I had been holding my breath.

Kabir tosses the gun into my lap. I can't help but stare at it like it was an alien. He glances over at me.

"Shoot."

"But I- I..." I start not sure what to say.

"God-damn it Pooja. SHOOT. Your perfectly capable," he half shouts at me.

I pull myself round using the seat as a shield, but there is no car.

"They've gone maybe they made a mistake and they didn't turn in time," I say quickly aware my voice is shaking, hoping I'm right.

The expression on Kabir's face shows me that he's not convinced. He's right as always.

A familiar black car tears round the bend and is chasing us again. I can feel the engine below me growl in power as Kabir pushes down on the accelerator.

I pull the gun up and pause. My mind whirls then it is empty. I'm aware of more gunfire sounds. It's coming from me. The gun shoots and I can see bullets making holes in the front of the car. Bullets cover the cars window.

I see an arm appear at the side of the chasing car and it fires. I see the flash of the gun. All I can do is shoot and hope my bullets are having an effect. The windscreen of the chasing car shatters and I feel a small touch of triumph. I can now make out the drivers head, if only I can aim right. I have perfect aim but I find myself freezing. I'm going to kill a man. I'll become no better than he is. But im more scared of what will happen if I don't shoot. I wince as my finger presses on the trigger. I'm too late the bullet misses him as the chasing car swerves from side to side.

I feel the air tighten as a bullet whizzes past my ear just missing me. I hide behind the seat like a small child and I see Kabir glance over. I feel ashamed at my weakness.

"Here grab the wheel," he orders me. I grab it but it's hard to control the wheel by stretching over. So I move so I'm sitting on his lap. His arm reaches out of the side window and I can hear him firing. He moves back in and reloads his gun.

"This isn't working, you'll have to drive."

I nod.

"Ready?"

I nod again. He moves and my foot touches with the accelerator instantly. He's moved into the back and I can hear him firing.

I follow the winding road round at a dangerous speed. I can feel it if the men don't kill us the road will. I have to turn the steering wheel fast as we are moving so quickly I cant make out how the road will bend next.

I hear Kabir curse behind me but I ignore it and focus on the death trap of a road before me. We come to a narrow bridge and my stomach leaps in fear as I try to cross. It looks to weak to carry the load of the car.

I glance up into the rear view mirror just in time to see a bullet hit the driver in the forehead. The car swerves and crashes through the bridge and plummets into the river below.

I sigh but I carry on driving.

"Now what Kabir?"

"Keep following the road," he says. I can hear his breath is short and he sounds like he's in pain.

"Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," he shoots back at me instantly. Then he's next to me. He's clutching his shoulder.

"Your shot, we should stop." I say. I see the blood seeping through his shirt. I'm surprised. I always thought of Kabir as untouchable.

"Concentrate on the road," He mutters.

We travel in silence for a few hours or so. I can't help but check the rear view mirror often.

I can see that Kabir is bleeding more. His shirt is now covered in red. He shows no sign of pain on his face, he just clutches at his shoulder applying pressure.

A red light flashes up on the dashboard on front of me. I hadn't noticed before but now I do we've got nearly no petrol left.

"We're running out of petrol."

"We'll have to take a detour then. Turn right now."

Twenty minutes later we've turned off the road and are now driving down a dusty road, which looks no more than a footpath. We seem to be travelling deeper into the countryside. I feel as if we are lost. I want to know where we are going but I ask no questions. Then suddenly I can see a small cottage ahead. It looks tiny, like a model cottage not a real one. Thick green trees surround it. I stop barely a few metres from the cottage.

Its small and its grey bricks are crumbling. It looks deserted amongst the fields. I notice large woods at one side.

I step out of the car and glance around my surroundings. We really are in the middle of nowhere. Its mid afternoon but it feels later and I feel exhausted. My legs feel weak from driving. I look at the overcast sky and feel a few drops of rain on my face.

"Where are we?" I ask Kabir as he steps out of the car.

He ignores my question and walks up to the old wooden door. I follow and wince at his shoulder and the blood.

He pushes against the door and it opens to reveal a dusty room with a sloping roof. Kabir has to bend to fit through the door. There is a small fireplace with a stove in the corner. Two wooden chairs are scattered round the room turned over. To one side there is a small cupboard and a sink with a rusty tap.

I glance round the cottage its dark, damp, dirty and horrible sending shivers up my spine.

"We're not staying here, are we?" I ask barely trying to hide my disgust.

Kabir moves and picks up a chair and sits on it examining his wound.

"Yes."

"But its-" I begin.

"Its dry and its safe," He ends my sentence.

I sigh and watch as he removes his shirt. The wound is deep and I can see that the bullet isn't still in his shoulder. Which is a good sign.

I run a hand through my head and move over to the sink. I open the cupboard and find a small bowl. I fill up the bowl and move over to Kabir. I pull off my jumper and tear a strip off it. I dab water around the wound wiping away the blood.

Kabir flinches at my touch and his shoulder tenses. But he doesn't say anything. I feel as if he thinks this is my job. I am no more then his woman to serve him. I feel anger but I don't think I can handle an argument. So I keep wiping at the wound.

"I need something to disinfect the wound." When I look up his eyes are focused on me. There is a strange look in his eyes, which sends something through me. I can't read what he's thinking.

"Kabir?"

My voice seems to wake him from his trance.

"There's a bottle in the car in the boot of alcohol. You can use that."

I nod. I don't like the way he was looking at me it was scary and unusual for him.

I move quickly and make my way out to the car. It's raining and although its only light rain I can feel my body soaking up the wetness. I can't help but notice the bullet holes as I move round to the back. I shudder at how close we could have been to death.

I quickly swing open the boot and find the bottle. I wonder what Kabir was doing with this in his car. Wine, then maybe I could understand but vodka?

I shut the boot and go to move but I feel something dig into my back. It feels like the barrel of a gun.

"Don't move," a voice whispers to me and I feel their breath on my neck.

I can't take much more of this. In the past few days my life has been threatened several times. It's not normal and I'm still terrified.

I want to scream out to Kabir, but I know that in an instance the bullet will push through my flesh.

The gun slowly pulls away and I see out of the corner of my eye a figure move forward.

He is elderly maybe in his seventies. His grey hair is thin and wispy peeks out from his hat, which looks like a farmers cap. Cool blue eyes star out at me through the wrinkles. A thick beard covers his chin. He looks harmless that is apart from the rifle.

He holds a large rifle just a few cms from me. "Who are you?"

I say my name. "Who are you?" He repeats again.

"I told you my name, please just put the rifle down." His harsh gaze softens a little and the rifle is lowered slightly. My heart eases a little.

"Why are you here?"

"I- I don't know," I say truthfully.

He raises his rifle again and my body tenses.

"Don't lie to me. Tell me the truth or I'll shoot." He pushes up the rifle into my stomach.

"What are you doing on my property?"

I refrain from saying anything but I'm surprised anyone could be protective of this dump.

I don't answer and he scowls at me. "I warned you lady." His finger goes to the trigger. I almost feel like laughing. To have escaped death by men much deadlier then to be killed by a cantankerous old man. I close my eyes ready for my imminent death.

"Tej." I hear a familiar voice call.

Slowly I open my eyes to see that the old man has left my side and is now embracing Kabir. Tej pulls back and I can see a lopsided grin on his face. It feels strange to watch Kabir. He's never shown anyone the affection that he is showing this elderly man. In a strange way Im jealous of the old man. I wish that Kabir would show me some fondness. They seem to have forgotten me as they chat away.

"Sorry to interrupt this little reunion. But can someone tell what's going on?"

Tej turns to me. His voice is warm and friendly unlike before. "Sorry love, didn't realise you were Kabir's girl." I like the way he say's "Kabir's girl". I don't feel as if I'm a possession like normal but as if Kabir and me are a normal couple.

I expect Kabir to protest but he doesn't. Instead he goes to introduce me.

"Tej this is-pooja"

"Yes Kabir, we've already met. Sorry about earlier. But I don't often get visitors, especially not beautiful women like you. I have to be weary." He says with a twinkle in his eye.

"It's alright," I smile in return.

"Your man, when he was younger used to come down here all the time."

I glance at Kabir but his face is expressionless. He moves back into the cottage and I follow. Kabir sits down and tends to his wound, which is still bleeding. My jumper does little to help.

"That's a nasty wound you got there, son. Do you need anything?"

"Do you have anything that we could use as a bandage?" I ask.

"Aye," he mutters and goes through a door at the back of the room.

I pour a little alcohol onto a part of my jumper, which has no blood on.

Kabir gasps a little as I dab the wet material on his shoulder.

"Don't be such a baby," I mutter. I glance up and he scowls at me.

Tej enters the room with some white sheets. I tear off a long strip and wind it round Kabir's wounded shoulder.

"There that should help. The dressing will have to be changed again. We really should go to a hospital."

"No."

I look up and his eyes are cold and hard.

"Well, Kabir do you want to tell me what's going on? Don't get me wrong its great to see you again, but well guessing by the state of your car your not here on a social visit."

A small smile appears at the corner of Kabir's mouth. " There are some people after us-" Kabir glances at me. I know he doesn't want to say too much in front of me.

"I'll go out to the car and get my bag," I say while leaving the room.

I take my time getting my bag. I don't care that it's raining. I just want to wake up from this horrible dream and be back at my flat.

I walk slowly back to the house. I can hear their muffled voices. My curiosity overwhelms me and I pause at the door, trying to hear their words.

I can hear Kabir's voice but I can't make out his words.

"Yes. But why bring the girl? I mean she is beautiful, but why let her get caught up in all this?" Tej says.

I strain to hear Kabir's voice but I can't hear what he's saying. My frustration overcomes me and push through the door. Kabir stops talking and glances at me. Tej is looking at me with a strange look on his face.

There is an awkward silence and I can tell that they are wondering if I heard something that I shouldn't.

"Well I hear you too will need a place to stay. You can stay here. You'll need some petrol as well I hear."

I nod my head, and glance at Kabir.

"Yes Tej. Thank you."

"I'll go home now, and I'll come back in the morning with some petrol."

"Oh Tej, no you can't walk. Its getting darker-" I interrupt. I already feel as if I have known this man for too long, and I have already gained protective feelings towards him.

"No, my house is only a twenty minute walk away. I'll be back in the morning. You too can sleep in the room upstairs. There's a cupboard just under the stairs where I keep some stuff you'll be needing."

With that he picks up his bag and walked out of the door leaving me in a state of surprise at the short encounter. I am also amazed that the man seems so fond of Kabir.

I feel as if I'm in a different century then the 21st when I look around the old cottage. I glance over at Kabir and see a small smile on his lips.

"Why are we here?"

"We needed a safe place to stay."

"What I don't understand Kabir is that you have a million guards that could keep us safe, yet where are they?"

A low mocking chuckle comes from his throat. "Do you really think that guards would stop these people?"

"I don't know do I? Cos I don't have a fucking clue who these people are," I half shout at him.

"Lets just say that a business deal I was doing didn't go to their liking."

"What business deal? What happened?"

"Why do you always have to ask so many godamn questions?"

"Why do you always have to keep me in the dark? It's not just your life that's on the line; I think I deserve to know the truth. I thought you were the all powerful?"

He stood up quickly and was by my side in an instant. My heart full of anger was throbbing against my chest.

" I am powerful, I will control them. But I'm not ready just yet. And you....you deserve nothing. You are nothing."

His words hit me like ice and I stare into his menacing eyes. Its times like these that I really hate him, and that I could really kill him. I feel like a defeated child. I can't think of anything to reply because my heart is hurting so much.

This time I know what I'm doing but he catches my hand before it can hit his cheek.

"You Bastard, I hate you." I say so eloquently.

I storm out of the room and out into the cool air. All I can hear are his words echoing around my head. You are nothing.

I don't want him to know how much his words have affected me, because then he might know my true feelings. I hate him. I really do. I hate everything about him, but worst of all I hate that I love him. I hate that I reacted like I did. I've known that I am nothing to him. I suppose it being just he and I made me believe and see things that weren't there.

I'm tempted to run off into the fields. But I know I'll only get lost. Unlike in stories I know that my knight In shining armour wont come to rescue me instead he'll be massaging his huge ego.

The rain pelts down on my face. I want to go back into the warmth but I'm too stubborn.

The raindrops slide down my face like tear drops. Sometimes I wish that I could just go back to being a small child. Things weren't complicated then, feelings weren't like they are now. I want my mother to gather me up in her arms and look after me.

Finally my common sense takes over me and I go back into the room. Kabir has lit the stove in the corner of the room. The orange flames comfortably fill the room with warmth.

"Decided to come back have you?"

I ignore him and walk through the door that Tej walked through earlier. I come into a small corridor. There is a stairs directly in front of me. To the left I notice there is a toilet. Thank god. I find the small cupboard under the stairs and see that there is some food. There are also pots and pans and various tins of food. I grab a tin of baked bins with a pan and take it back through.

I don't even look at Kabir but I can feel his mocking smile. I stir the pan of beans slowly. I'm able to find two bowls. I pour beans into each bowl. I pass one over to Kabir who is currently polishing and re-loading his guns. There are several of them on the floor ranging from different sizes.

He picks one up and tries to stretch his left arm but his shoulder stops him. He curses and picks up the bowl.

"If I knew you were this great a cook, I would have employed you for your cooking services instead," he mocks me.

"Do you take joy in making my life hell?"

"No, I don't care."

His words don't hurt me now. I've known right from the beginning that he doesn't care.

I finish my food and stand up grabbing my bag. My clothes are still wet and I desperately seek the comfort of a warm bed. I climb the steep narrow creaky stairs. There is one room up the top of the house and it is freezing obviously there is no heating. There is a large bed that takes up most of the room. I remove my wet clothes and put on a big t-shirt as I forgot to pack any pyjamas.

I sigh and thunder back downstairs. Kabir is still with his guns. He glances up when he sees me. The t-shirt although big barely covers my bottom leaving my legs exposed. I expect to see a look of lust in his eyes, but they are only cold.

I place my wet things around the stove and I can't help wondering does he not find me attractive any more.

Kabir follows me upstairs this time. He quickly strips of his clothes and puts on some pyjamas. Of course he would remember.

We climb into bed at opposite sides facing away. The thin cover does nothing to make me feel warmer and I can feel my body shivering.

"If you moved closer to me then maybe you'd feel a bit warmer," he mumbles. I want to move nearer to him but my feelings are still hurt from before.

I lie curled up for a further 10 minutes or so, but I don't seem to be getting warmer.

Suddenly a thick arm places itself over my stomach and pulls me towards him. I can feel his light breathing on my neck. I start to stop shivering as he warmth gives me heat. I fall into a blissful sleep in his arms and even its not a sign of affection, I feel my heart swell.

I don't wake up in his arms. I wake up to an empty bed. I sigh. We haven't slept together in a while now. Several nights or so. I hate the idea that my body yearns for him, that I am intoxicated by him. I can feel a level of frustration rising in me that once was not sexual.

"Why are we here?" I said to him my eyes looking directly into his.

"Because they make great food." He smirked in that arrogant way of his.

"No, Why am I here?"

"Because I wanted to dine and wine a woman such as yourself."

I could feel his leg hand pressed against my thigh, running up and down. Part of me was intrigued by the man the other was repulsed. The repulsed part of me lifted his hand from my thigh and placed on the table.

I grabbed my glass of wine, which had been filled up yet again and gulped down the sweet scent.

"You know this is just dinner. I have a boyfriend who I love." Love was a strange word then, it didn't mean what it does now.

"Love? You love him so much that you slept with his best friend."

My gaze hardened, "How do you-"

"I know everything. There is no use in fooling me."

It was a drunken mistake. I wanted to tell him. We had drunk a little too much and Dhruv had been out of town. But I didn't need to prove anything to this greedy man, so I had bit my tongue.

"Desert?" The waiter asked his accent tinged

"No"

"Yes"

We both spoke at the same time. Then I had thought I had the control, but really I had never had it.

Kabir had murmured something and a few minutes later a chocolate desert decorated with red berries was put down before me.

"I said I didn't want any."

"You must try this. " He murmured his eyes fixed on mine, leaving me to wonder if he was talking about the desert or me.

He pushed the silver spoon into the soft chocolate sponge and I watched as thick liquid chocolate poured out of the centre. He brought the spoon to my lips and I was caught under his spell.

The warm chocolate caressed my tongue as it melted in my mouth. I felt the warmth flood through my body.

"It is better then sex, " I murmured without realising.

He lifted another spoonful to my mouth. "Not quite." His words sent a tingle down my neck. I couldn't look at him. I turned my head and looked out across the city.

"You like here?"

"It is a beautiful city. I would love to do some sightseeing."

"So would I."

I looked back at him and watched his eyes unashamedly roam over the low-cut neck of my top.

That night I had felt my head fuzzy from alcohol led up to the penthouse suite. He had unzipped my dress and started to kiss my back. His lips were soft against my smooth flesh. His movements were slow and warm.

I could feel myself bending to his will.

"No, I can't." I had stumbled forward.

"There's no need to be scared."

"I'm not scared. You bring me here, You take me out for an amazing dinner. You make me believe that you are a good man. You lead me here for one purpose, when you know how much I despise you." I moved to the window. I could see his refection behind me.

"I did not lead you under false pretences. You did not have to come. You did not have to come on the other dates I have taken you out on. You came willingly."

"No I did not. You forced me. You threatened me. You told me what would happen to Dhruv, and I could never let you do that to him."

He grabbed my shoulders and spun me round.

"I want you. And I get what I want. You did not come here for Dhruv. You came here for yourself."

"I love Dhruv."

"You do not know the meaning of Love." He as always had been right then.

He had kissed me forcefully. His mouth had softened and I had given into his will. We made our way to the bedroom. He peeled off his clothes with mine with amazing accuracy. His movements were slow and showed the mark of an expert. He had made me tingle he had made me groan inside.

When he had removed himself from me. I had simply whispered loud enough for him to hear, "I did that for Dhruv." Then I had risen from his bed and climbed into the shower. I don't know how many times I scrubbed my body but even after the soap had been washed off I did not feel clean. I felt violated, I felt disgusting and sick. I felt no more than a whore. I hated him. I hated him. I hated him. I hated him because he had not raped me I had willingly let him take me.

In the early hours of the morning I fled the suite and wandered the lonely streets of city. I managed to find myself to the airport and get the first flight home.

He had not searched for me, but he had not let me go. I wished he had, but now I wish he wouldn't. I wish he would look at me like he had done then and no more than a week ago.

Something between us has been lost and I am desperate for it again.

There are many beautiful women in this world. I am one of them. There are many beautiful people and things in this world. I am not one of them.

I see the way that people look at me. I see the way that men want me and women long to be me. Really all I am a painting pretty to look at but without much depth. What will they write on my tombstone she was beautiful once? Because looks will fade and I will be no more than a dried up bitter old woman.

That is if I live that long considering the events of the last few days.

What is my purpose in this world? To decorate it? To warm the bed of one of its enemies? I am a traitor. A traitor to those living good honest, decent lives. I am a traitor to my father's death. I am shunned from my family. I am shunned from my life, from my friends, from my dreams, from his heart.

Rejection does not bode well for a woman such as myself. A woman who grew up as a little child whose middle class parents provided well for. I suffered no trauma in my early years to lead to a torn, vulnerable but puts up a front woman. I led a relatively normal childhood. I wasn't an only child isolated and spoilt. My two brothers provided healthy competition fights and even though we would never admit it then, love. I wasn't devastatingly popular but I wasn't a so-called loser. I had my friends who I would laugh, hug, fight and cry with. I wasn't one of those girls who was a late bloomer. Right from when my bright big eyes encased by soft dark lashes opened it was evident I was a beauty.

My one gift is my one scorn. I used to wish that I could melt into a crowd that I could meet someone just once that liked me for me, not for how I would look on their arm. I suppose your thinking rather sarcastically- how bad it must be for me to be so beautiful. I see you roll your eyes. I don't expect sympathy or pity I have enough self-pity for myself, which is more than enough.

My perfect blemish free skin is a poor reflection of me.

I wandered through the turmoil's and joys of my teenage years. I passed through school gaining average plus grades. I had my first bra, my first car, and my first boyfriend. I was contented. I dabbled in everything from pot and drink to being a lesbian. I travelled around made and lost friends. I discovered my natural talent for charming those around me and entered into the backstabbing, non-stop party lifestyle of PR. I met Dhruv.

Dhruv. He was one of those genuine nice guys. He never played me, he never bragged, he never forced me into anything. He was nice, charming, good looking and building a successful career in advertising. I fancied myself in love with him. Dhruv was a dream a childhood fantasy. I think even before I met Kabir I knew that I didn't love him. I was very fond. There were no bouts of dizziness; my stomach didn't jump when he was around. My heart didn't pulsate. My mind didn't wander from random things back to him. I didn't feel insecure and yearned for his return of love. I wouldn't lie in bed next to him and watch his sleeping face for hours.

I didn't realise this until I met Kabir. I believed that I could not hate a man as much as I hated him. I remember the heat searing through my flesh after our first date.

"I enjoyed that meal. I would like us to do it again."

I looked into his eyes and felt his desire tingle in me. " I don't think that would be a good idea." I said quietly.

"Why not?" I could feel his warm fingers caressing my thigh.

"I said only the one meal. You've had what you wanted."

"Not quite."

I remember thinking how everything this man said was a sexual innuendo.

"Please, you know I didn't want to do this."

"Then why are you here?"

"Because you practically harassed me into it."

"Oh so you didn't enjoy yourself?"

I hesitated, "No."

His mouth curved in a self-satisfying smile, which infuriated me. "I see. You seem to have gone to a lot of effort for a woman who did not want to be here."

I glanced down at my tight fitting black dress, my hair bundled up elegantly. I was outraged at how right he was. The truth was over dinner there were moments when I had glimpsed certain warmth to him. He had talked and asked me questions about myself. Which I had replied and so easily opened up to him. Thinking back now he knew all there was to know about me even before the questions. He had laughed, he had charmed me, almost bewitched me. He had held his end of the conversation, but when I had left that night I had learned nothing more of him then I knew before which amounted to very little apart from one thing. His favourite colour was blue. There had been moments no doubt throughout the evening when pangs of annoyance had coursed through me.

I subconsciously touched my hair. "I prefer it down," he gestured to my hair, " Now how about we meet again. Next Tuesday."

"What if I refuse?"

"You have a boyfriend, Dhruv?"

I nodded my head slowly not sure where this was going.

"He's expecting to get a rather big ad campaign is he not rather soon."

"... Yes."

"Things could be re-arranged."

My eyes narrowed. "You wouldn't-" But I knew he would. He could do anything.

The car door swung open and I moved out. He followed. He stood beside me and looked down into my eyes. His hand lifted and he pulled the clasp holding my hair up and the thick folds of my hair floated down to my shoulders.

Within seconds he had climbed into his car and I could only watch as the black car crept away.

I awake and I can hear the twittering sounds of birds outside the window. The bed is empty and Kabir is gone. I pull on a pair of trousers and glance at myself in a cracked mirror. Thin grey bags hang lightly under my eyes. I make my way down the creaking narrow steps and find myself in the main room. Kabir is seated and tending to his wound.

"Your lucky the bullet only grazed your skin."

He doesn't acknowledge me but gestures to some more material. I bandage up his wound again in silence.

I move over to the door and prise it open. Cool sunlight floods in and my eyes re-adjust to the brightness. I step out into the fresh early morning cool air.

I can feel his presence following behind me.

"How long are we going to be here?"

"Not long."

"And then?"

"We go somewhere else."

"Can't you just give me a proper answer?"

A ringing sound interrupts us. I turn and watch as he pulls out his phone. He talks into the phone and I examine his face.

He still manages to look in perfect health and ruggedly handsome despite his shoulder wound. Two days worth of stubble line his chin making him seem darker and more mysterious. He's wearing a vest, which gives me full view of his body.

I wonder when he will touch me again, kiss me again. I can feel my lips tingle for his to be against mine. Maybe I was raped, so he feels he cant touch me. A shudder runs through my mind. I snap out of my thoughts before my mind runs wild.

"An hour? Ok. You have my orders," he says sternly. His eyes never leaving mine.

He hangs up.

"Was...was I raped?" I find myself shooting at him.

His mouth moves into not quite a smile, " What do you think?"

"I don't think I was." He nods his head accepting my answer, but im still left to wonder.

He eyes gaze at me inquisitively, "Why?"

"I just wondered, because well I thought maybe that's why you hadn't touched me." Inwardly I curse at how desperate and dependent I sound.

His hand curves round my jaw. "You prefer it this way don't you...no touching? Well we'll have to change that. A smug smile curves at his lips.

I stare back at him and wonder if he's being sarcastic or really he has got it all wrong. That really I want him to touch me. I push his hand away from my jaw, and push past him.

I can feel his eyes on my back. "Now don't do anything stupid. You've got a lot ahead of you."

I turn round and glare at him with as much malice as I can. I don't want him to start thinking that I actually like him.

He just laughs.

He knows how to wind me up so well it infuriates me. My hand curves around my locket. When I'm angry I find myself subconsciously rubbing it. The small silver locket hangs elegantly on a delicate chain that lies against my chest. I always wear it. The last time I saw my father he gave it to me. It was as if he knew he was going to die. I remember well that night.

I was barely fifteen years old when my father appeared in my room. It was early morning and the dusk light was sifting in through the curtains. The creaking of my door awoke me. My father stood in the doorway attired in his usual worn work suit.

My eyes flickered open and I could feel the sleep still in my eyes. He always left early before the house would arise and there would be the usual morning panic. He was a scientist and he worked a fair distance away for a pharmaceutical company researching new medicines.. It was a compromise he had to make if he wanted to live with us. He had to get up at a ridiculously early hour, before the birds would start their morning song and before the milkman would deliver his pints.

"Da-"

"Shhhh.... Pooja, it's still early. I'm just leaving for work. I've been meaning to give you a present. I meant to give it to you last night but I got in so late you were already tucked up in bed." He pulled out a small box and handed it to me.

I opened it and looked at the silver locket. It was oval shaped and a pretty flower pattern was engraved that curved around the locket. I prised it open and saw an old picture of dad and me. He held me on his shoulders; our smiles were youthful and full of mischief.

"Wow.... thank you dad.... but why?"

"It's to say sorry for not being here on your birthday last week, and remind you that your old pa still loves you and always will. If you ever get in trouble just hold onto the locket and take a moment to think and it will clear your mind. Now get back to sleep, petal." His lips brushed over my forehead and he was gone.

I smiled a sleepy smile. "See you later, dad." I rested my head against my pillow and fell into a soft slumber, my hand curved around the locket.

I wish I had known then that that would have been the last time I would see him. I would have said so much more. I would have told him I loved him. I would have held him in a warm loving embrace.

From that moment on whenever I felt panicked I would take a few minutes out and hold onto the locket. It always helped to clear my mind and ease my nerves.

There are voices outside. I snap back into reality. The voices are not familiar to me. I stand just as the door flies open. Two men stride in dressed heavily in black. I instantly reach for one of Kabir's guns on the side.

"I'll shoot." I say while my mind whirls. Where the hell is Kabir?

The men's' faces look back at me in shock. "We're not going to harm you."

Since the night I was attacked in my apartment I have become extremely wary of strangers.

Kabir pushes through the men. He says my name sternly. "Put the gun down. These men are here to protect you, not harm you."

Kabir's fingers brush against mine as he pulls the gun from me. I instantly feel ashamed of myself. I get the impression that these men now think of me as some neurotic woman. Their faces remain serious as they start to collect up our belongings.

"Kabir what's going on?" I watch as he pulls on a t-shirt.

"We're leaving, Aadi and Rey are making sure we don't come to anymore harm."

"What about Tej?"

"He won't mind. It's not safe to stay in one place for too long without the right protection."

He chucks a bag at me. "Now go and put these clothes on. Don't put any make up on."

I make my way to the toilet, too self-conscious to change in front of the leering eyes of Aadi and Rey

There is a pair of jeans and a v-neck top with a black jacket. The clothes are plain and are poor quality. Not the type of clothes I am used to wearing. I pull my hair in to a severe ponytail. Staring at my reflection through the dirty mirror I can see that I'm meant to look the opposite from my usual self, plain and as if I am nothing out of the ordinary.

When I re-enter the room I see that Kabir is dressed in a similar way. He glances up at me and acknowledges my appearance.

"I suppose that will have to do," he murmurs in dissatisfaction.

I follow him outside and see Aadi and Rey holding two black containers and hauling liquid over the bullet-hole ridden car. The smell is strong and unpleasant. There are two cars parked a little further up the lane. Kabir walks and gets into a dirty old looking ford estate. He tells me to get into the car. I climb into the tattered interior.

"Nice wheels, " I murmur sarcastically. He ignores me and after several attempts the engine begins to rumble.

I glance behind me just in time to see the black car go up in flames. Aadi and Rey get into a fairly non-conspicuous car behind us.

We drive for a few hours. It seems as if we are driving further into the countryside. Then we hit a main road, cars pass by unaware of who is in this car. Aadi and Rey are still following but at a safe distance.

We've been driving along the motorway for only forty minutes when we can see a hold up ahead. A few police cars are scattered up ahead. Two policemen are standing by the road telling traffic to slow and when to drive past.

There is a long queue of traffic. Slowly we gradually make our way forward. The two policemen like with every car rap on the windows. Kabir unwinds his window, as do I. The policeman next to Kabir starts talking to him.

The policeman on my side murmurs something quickly at me. I'm not certain that I hear right but when I look at him; his eyes are fixed on me seriously.

We pass through the diverted traffic lane and pass two cars that have crashed into each other.

Kabir says nothing; his eyes remain fixed ahead of us. My mind wanders if I heard the policeman right. I glance back and see Rey and Aadi behind us by only a few cars. But what is strange is that the police cars are no longer there and there is a steady flow of traffic back where they were.

We drive on for another half an hour and then I see a sign for a service stop.

"I need the toilet. Can we stop at the services coming up?" I say hoping that he believes me.

"What?"

"Can we stop I need the toilet."

He sighs and looks at me with annoyance. "Can't you hold it?"

"No I can't, look I wont be long. We've been driving all morning."

Kabir glances at me but I avoid his gaze. He shakes he head and signals for the turning for the services. He pulls out his mobile and taps a few numbers in. "We need to stop."

He hangs up and mutters a profanity under his breath, which I choose to ignore. My heart is racing already wondering what will happen next.

We pull up into a parking space. The service station is full of people milling around. There is a coach unloading a bunch of raucous teenagers. Kabir grabs my arm and pulls me through the sliding doors.

He leads me to the toilets. He goes to push the door but I stop. "What are you doing?"

"Coming in there with you."

"You can't," I blurt.

His eyes narrow and his grip tightens on my arm. "Why?"

"It's a public woman's' toilet. Won't it look a bit suspicious if you come in there with me?"

He pauses considering my words. "Fine, but you've got five minutes or I'm coming in there to get you."

I nod and feel a simmer of relief that he believes me.

I step into the toilet and see different woman entering and leaving cubicles. I scan the space. Now what?

Someone comes from behind me and whispers my name. I nod my head not daring to turn around.

"This way." The woman leads me to the back of the toilet, where there is an emergency exit. She wrenches open the door and we step outside. We are at the back of the services.

A man is waiting there. He is young I would say in his late-twenties. He is well built and is dressed in casual clothes, but his presence is strong. My nerves are racing. Have I just made a huge mistake? Have I just walked willingly into the arms of the people trying to kill me but a day ago?

The man's face is hard and serious he opens his mouth and his deep voice speaks at a controlled level.

"Miss I'm glad you followed our instructions. I am Special Agent Jay vishwas. This is Special Agent Saloni. We are part of an government organisation called MI6."

"MI6?" I choke out, not believing his words. I scan his face for a sign that this is some hoax. His small eyes stare back at me hard and lacking any signs of humour.

What the hell has Kabir been doing? The woman named Saloni moves forward and brings out a small box with a red light. She passes it over my body. "She's clean."

Oberoi launches into his explanation:

"There has been an ongoing investigation for the past eight years into Mr Mittal's and Guild corps activities. Eight years ago we were alerted to the fact that there were more than the usual accidental deaths that could be normal. This brought about a formal investigation. We believe that Mr Mittal is using Guild corp. as a cover for illegal business..." Oberoi trailed off.

My mind whirls; I knew that all of Kabir's business transactions weren't going to be the right side of the law, but for the government to be involved shocked me.

"Why are you telling me this?" The cool breeze blows against me chilling my skin.

"We haven't got long," Saloni speaks in a hurried tone.

"I'll keep it short. For the past few years we have managed to get agents into the Guild corps and close to Mr Mittal, but never close enough. Just as we catch on to something our agents seem to disappear in Mysterious accidents. We need someone right in the centre, someone so close to Mr Mittal that they could easily overhear important conversations. Travel round Guild corp. without it seeming suspicious," he pauses, " Someone like his mistress," as he speaks I notice his words tinged with frustration.

I stare ahead almost as if im not listening, but I am. I understand what he's saying. My eyes fix on the steel overflowing bins and the grotty cement floor. I'm aware of the two sets of eye's focused on me intently, judging me.

My eyes dart back to his, understanding the full meaning of his words. "You mean me?" I don't even try to hide my hysteric tone.

He nods his head. "You would be awarded adequately for your services. We've been so damn close, and we still are its just not enough. Mr Mittal is careful, too careful."

"I...I..." I stumble. The two agents glance at each other.

"You don't have to make a decision yet, you haven't got time. We will contact you soon. We wouldn't usually drag in someone from the outside but you would be able to gather valuable information without anyone batting an eyelid. Thank you. Please refrain from telling anyone of this encounter." A thin smile appears at his lip that doesn't reach his eyes.

Saloni disappears around the corner. I go to push the door open but I feel Oberoi's hand on my arm. "Be careful. Kabir Mittal is a very clever and dangerous man."

I know! I want to scream but I merely nod and stare into his eyes. Why should this stranger show- even if it's only a tiny bit- that he cares about my well-being?

Oberoi pushes open the door and I walk back. I turn my head just in time to see the door shutting and that the agent has disappeared as if nothing happened.

I walk to the sink and wash my hands not sure what exactly went on. I walk outside and see Kabir scratching his head in irritation. He glances at me and fear rifles through me. He knows. But when I reach him he acts as if he is totally oblivious to what just occurred.

"I was just about to come in and get you."

As we walk outside I glance to my right and look at Kabir. I wonder if he knows what just happened but he acts normally. I know im being paranoid. I don't know why I'm scared I've done nothing wrong.

We climb into the car and my eyes are fixed on him intensely looking for any signs that he knows what happened barely a few minutes ago.

He notices my gaze. "What?"

"Nothing." I say not to convincingly.

"Can't keep your eyes of me can you..." He does a mock sigh in arrogance.

If I weren't so terrified I would roll my eyes and return a smart comment but all I do is turn to watch out of the window. So that I don't have to look into his face and tell a lie, because I', not sure if he would believe me. I watch as we drive past the parked cars and people making their way to and fro from the services. As we take the turning out, my eyes lock with a pair of eyes for only a second. Om Oberoi's eyes have a fleeting warning look.

I turn my head to the side not daring to think about what has happened, but I do.

Questions without answers surround me, and I wish I had had more time to ask them more. Why now, If they have been investigating for eight years?

How do I even know that they are real agents? Were they the people shooting us down in the car yesterday? No, that wouldn't make sense. Why would they want to kill us? It doesn't strike me as the style of the man I met. Although it was brief I just have a feeling. Then who the hell were those men yesterday?

And what the hell is Kabir up to that he has at least two different groups after him.... maybe more?

One thing I do know and that's that Om Oberoi knows a lot more then he told me. A lot more, there is more to this story. And I don't want to know. Once I yearned for the truth now the truth terrifies me, and bit-by-bit I'm learning things, which I don't want to know.

I feel as if I'm stuck in a corny thriller, but this is real.

Then I remember last week the man that Kabir took down to the basement and killed. Could he have been a government secret agent? Could Kabir have been right that he was untrustworthy? But that man - he was working for the good side.

"There is no good or bad. There's no black or white. There's no right or wrong. Things happen because they must. We do things because we want to and have to. Can't you see that? You can think I'm bad all you want. But where are the good guys? What are they doing? The supposed good are corrupt and those that are, do nothing. Your living in a fantasy world not reality." His words had been strong and forceful.

"Dhruv was good," I had shouted back at him.

"Ah yes Dhruv," he spat, "Where is Dhruv? Where is the man who will have your heart? I'm here but all I'll ever have is your body. Dhruv is nothing, you know that. He will never amount to what I am. He will never be able to protect you like I do."

He had then been like his words and violently kissed my lips until they were swollen before storming out the room. I had been left to see the man under his icy façade. I had seen a glimpse of the real man. And part of me had fallen in love with that tyrant that night. His last sentence had been wrong though I didn't need his protection I needed protection from him.

His words echo around my head now. I don't agree with what he says completely about good and bad but I could see the truth in his words. I remember that night I had ranted at him for being bad and doing nothing but wrong.

But maybe there was a good side. The side that I had just met now. A side in a war about what exactly? Transporting illegal drugs into the country? No this was about something bigger much worse.

The worst part is that right now I'm wondering whether I can betray the man I love.

It isn't right that he ruins people's lives. Also that he makes his money from what must be illegal activities. It isn't right that I love him.

He glances over at me. I can almost see concern in his eye, but I know its just a trick of the light.

He moves his hand and rubs my knee reassuringly. "Don't worry this will all be over soon. Tonight we will spend the night in luxury. I will fix this little problem."

His words do nothing to soothe me; instead I am filled with guilt. His last few words only heighten my fear as well 'Fix this little problem'- means murder. How much more is there left to come, I wonder.

I look at him and he glances at me with a knowing look. What he knows I don't know. But he knows a hell of a lot more than I do. Everyone seems to, but maybe its better this way. If I betray him then I will know a lot more and I don't want that. But I know the people's lives that are lost will forever remain on my conscience if I don't.

I give a small unconvincing smile and wipe my dark hair from my face, and close my eyes.