The Enticement

Disclaimer: The characters and settings depicted on this story are the legal property of The Jim Henson Company. They have been used without permission and no copyright infringement is intended. No profit is being made off this story, and it was created for fan appreciation and entertainment purposes only.


~*~*~*~*~

When Sarah exited the bathroom, Jareth was sitting on the edge of the bed, waiting.

"Um, goodnight," she said. She reached back and turned off the bathroom light. As she lifted her arm, he saw her wince again.

"The hot water alone did not stop the pain," he observed.

"I’ll take an aspirin. It will be better tomorrow," she answered and began to walk toward her bedroom.

"I can relieve the discomfort now, if you will allow it," he told her.

She hesitated and then turned back to him.

"How?"

"I can massage the muscles until they are no longer tense," he said.

Her eyebrows shot up and she looked at him suspiciously.

"I’ll be fine," she answered.

He snorted. "You think that I have carnal intentions toward you? Your faith in my stamina is flattering, particularly considering that we are both exhausted."

"Why else would you offer?" Her voice was flat.

"I am aware that I owe you my life. Easing your pain would allow me to begin to repay my debt to you." He paused for a long moment. "I dislike being indebted."

He was careful to remain expressionless as he saw the indecision on her face. Her wish to escape her suffering warred openly with her distrust.

It was time to push her a bit.

He shrugged. "If you want to remain in pain, then do so."

"And this would be the perfect opportunity for you to make it a little worse, wouldn’t it?" she shot back.

"First you believe that I intend to seduce you and moments later you believe that I intend to harm you." Jareth allowed his voice to become derisive. "You should settle on one belief or the other, Sarah. Even I am not that fickle."

She looked abashed and then raised her head defiantly. "It’s just that you haven’t been very nice to me. What am I supposed to believe?"

"Perhaps this has not been my finest hour," Jareth admitted. "Recent events have been...disorienting. I am offering my assistance. But you may believe what you like."

She swallowed hard. "My neck does hurt," she said softly.

He nodded slightly and moved further onto the bed, then carefully tugged her down to sit with her back to him in the V made by his outspread legs. She held herself rigid and leaned forward, keeping as much space as possible between them.

"I am trying to help you," he said quietly.

After a moment, she moved back to sit straight up. She was not leaning against him, but she was not leaning away from him. Jareth smiled - she was willing to compromise.

It was a beginning.

He swept her hair away from her neck and began massaging the knotted muscles. As his fingers firmly stroked against her neck, her head slowly fell forward. She gave a breathless whimper as he found a particularly sore spot and he circled it lightly until the muscle had relaxed enough to endure greater pressure.

His thumbs slid down toward her back, pressing and releasing in an effort to loosen the knots he found there. Her robe began to restrict his movements and he was surprised when, after only a slight hesitation, she reached up and spread her collar open to allow him to reach the longer muscles running down her neck into her back.

He heard her make a slight humming sound in her throat, and he grinned to himself but said nothing. He continued massaging until her muscles seemed relaxed and she was swaying slightly at his touch.

"Lean back," he whispered and was pleased that she did so without question. He reached up, gently rubbing her temples with a circular motion. With a soft sigh, Sarah’s head fell back against his shoulder.

After a moment, he realized that she had gone to sleep leaning against him. Momentarily perplexed, he decided against waking her. Moving slowly, he shifted her and slid one arm along her back and the other under her knees. Rising smoothly, he picked her up and settled her on the bed. He pulled the sheet and quilt up over her.

He had not expected her to fall asleep, but it could work in his favor. He wondered what her reaction would be when she awoke in his bed.

He lay down beside her and closed his eyes.

~*~*~*~*~

Sarah was vaguely aware that she might be awake but her pillow was warm and it smelled good. She snuggled against the pillow and sighed contently. But there was also a vague impression that all was not quite right with the world. Her mattress was lumpy and it was poking into her leg, and her pillow wasn't as soft as it should be. But she was far too sleepy to worry about these things now. The pillow smelled really good and she was warm. That was enough of a trade off.

She began to sink back into sleep when her pillow spoke, its voice a low rumbling in her ear.

"Unless you are attempting to gain more of my attention than you already have, you should refrain from wiggling."

Sarah's eyes shot open and she realized that her head was resting on Jareth's shoulder. Worse, one arm was lying across his waist and one of her legs was between his thighs.

So that would mean that the thing currently poking her was...

"Oh, my god." Sarah gasped abruptly and flung herself back from him, scrambling to get away. "What the hell are you doing in my bed?"

"Your bed?" He sat up and arched an eyebrow. "You are in my bed."

Looking around frantically, Sarah realized that he was right. The light filtering through the curtains told her that it was morning.

"How did I get here?" she asked, confused. She looked over at the open door to her bedroom and then glanced down and saw that she was still wearing her robe.

"You fell asleep," he said. "I did not wish to wake you, and so I allowed you to stay here. Although, you moved closer to me during the night."

She remembered how wonderful it had felt when he’d rubbed her neck, but she didn’t remember anything past that point.

"I’m sorry," she stammered. "I guess I was more tired than I realized." She swung her legs over the side of the sofa-sleeper.

She turned to go to her room when his words made her freeze.

"I had thought you'd moved closer to me for a particular purpose," he said softly.

"Yeah, I could tell," she said dryly. She didn’t look back at him. "I’m going to get dressed."

~*~*~*~*~

Once in her room, Sarah sat on the edge of her bed and dropped her head into her hands. How humiliating. Jareth had thought that she was coming on to him. She couldn't blame him for thinking it. The way she'd been draped over him, what other impression could he have gotten? Although, he certainly hadn't seemed adverse to the idea. Her breath caught in her throat as she remembered the feeling of Jareth's arousal pressed firmly against her leg. Some distinctly feminine part of her nature gave a pleased sigh that she'd been able to cause him to react in that manner.

Sarah quickly shoved that thought away. She could not let Jareth know that she found him appealing. No matter how physically attracted she was to him, there were two important reasons that she couldn't have sex with him. The most obvious was that she didn't want to leave her life here behind and go back to the Underground.

She quickly gave herself another mental kick for making that deal. She should have known better than to trust anything to do with the Underground even in a dream.

But there was a less obvious reason for not being intimate with Jareth. The truth of the matter was that while she wasn't a complete innocent, she was still a virgin. She'd always wanted her first time to be with a man she loved and who loved her in return. She and Jareth certainly didn't love each other. Her romantic, starry-eyed fantasies about him had proved to be just so much unrealistic nonsense.

Sarah knew that she'd never actually been in love. Not even with Mark. How she could have ever trusted... No, her mind said as it shied away from that subject, no thinking about Mark. She had enough to deal with right now without adding that distasteful subject to the mix.

Her mind turned back to Jareth. Why had he offered to rub her neck? Was it only because he didn't like being indebted to her? The more Sarah thought about it, the more logical it seemed. Jareth was obviously extremely proud and she could believe that he would view her help as an obligation that he needed to repay.

Sarah's stomach gave a low growl and she glanced over at the clock and saw that it was almost 10:00 a.m. She needed to make something to eat and she still had all the supplies to put away. Sighing, she pulled on jeans and a sweater. She ran a brush through her hair and opened her bedroom door.

She didn't see Jareth but heard the shower running. She rebuilt the fire in the fireplace and went into the kitchen to put the kettle on for tea. Even though she'd complained to Gary about the price, she was now very glad she'd had the propane tank filled last month.

She picked up a couple of bags containing canned goods and carried them into the storage room. The generator was in there, along with an upright freezer, washer and dryer, and boxes of odds and ends that she'd never managed to make herself throw away after her family had died.

Well, she thought, not all of her family. Her mother was still alive but stayed so busy with her acting career that there was very little contact between them. Sarah remembered her mother's presence at the funeral as nothing more than a whirlwind of black silk crepe and bright red lipstick. Linda had flown in for the funeral and flown out three hours later after posing for pictures in which she'd appeared appropriately grief stricken.

Grief stricken. Saran shook her head. Linda's presence might have been a blur, but her last words to Sarah before driving back to the airport rang out vividly in Sarah's mind.

Her mother had wished her a merry Christmas.

~*~*~*~*~

Rest had done wonders for Jareth. His strength had returned, and the chills and nausea he'd been experiencing were gone. Unfortunately, his magic was also still gone. Without it he felt incomplete, as if he were only a shadow, something insubstantial. He had no place in this world full of iron and disbelief. He had to return to the Underground and Sarah's dreams were the key to that return.

While he showered, Jareth contemplated the best way to seduce her.

He hadn't been surprised when Sarah had moved toward him during the night, and so he had pulled her to him. He had no doubt that she was attracted to him. He clearly remembered the way she had looked at him when he'd first arrived in her home and her occasional blushes and stammers were equally as telling.

What had confounded him was that Sarah had made no advances. The women who turned to him in the night always wanted more than simple physical contact and yet Sarah had merely sighed softly against his neck and slipped back into sleep. He wasn't certain now that she'd truly been awake.

When she had started to stir, his body had reacted instinctively to having a warm, pliant woman wriggling against him and he had waited for Sarah to understand that he was responding and to escalate the encounter. But, again, she had not reacted as he'd expected. There had been no hesitant kisses or caresses, no whispered declarations of ardor.

In fact, after her initial confusion over her location had been dispelled, she had simply apologized to him and left the bed. She had not even made any outraged accusations of ulterior motives or demanded to know why he had not awakened her.

Sarah's actions were not those of the women to which he was accustomed. Seducing her might be a more delicate process than he had originally thought. He would have to obtain additional information in order to determine the best way to proceed. However, in order to do that, he would need to overcome Sarah's inherent suspicion of him.

He turned off the shower, and as he picked up a towel, he decided upon the most expedient way to accomplish his goal.

~*~*~*~*~

Sarah was arranging the cans on the shelves along the wall when Jareth came to the door. She took in the dark blue suit he wore and saw that he was wearing the gloves she had given him. It was a bit odd to see someone dressed so formally in a place she associated with casual vacations and relaxation. But, she thought, it was appropriate for him. Somehow, she just couldn't imagine him wearing faded jeans and a T-shirt.

She dropped her eyes as she remembered their earlier encounter and felt herself blushing. Damn, she had to stop doing that.

"I had thought this was a storeroom," he said.

"Yes, I'm just putting these things away," she replied. "How are you feeling?"

Jareth walked further into the room and looked around curiously.

"I am much improved," he said. "Have you looked outside this morning?"

"No." Sarah glanced at him. "Is it still snowing?"

"Yes," he nodded. He stepped closer to her and gestured toward the canned goods. "Would you like me to help you?"

"Look," Sarah said abruptly, turning to face him, "let's just call it even, okay? I feel better and you feel better. You don't owe me anything."

"Not even an apology?" he asked softly.

"An apology? From you?" she sounded incredulous.

Jareth looked at her thoughtfully. "Do you believe me incapable of it?"

Sarah nodded. "Well, yes, actually, I do. What exactly would you be apologizing for?"

He hesitated. "When I was ill, I made an inappropriate comment regarding your life."

"My "pathetic little life," you mean?" Sarah crossed her arms over her chest.

Jareth grimaced. "My comment was unkind and unfair. I know nothing of your life and you have my apology."

She looked at him silently for a long moment.

"I'd always heard that the fae were capricious, but you swing back and forth so fast that I can't keep up. Nice one minute, rude the next," she said finally. "I never know what to expect from you."

He arched an eyebrow. "And your attitude toward me has not fluctuated as well?" His tone was even.

Sarah started to deny his statement and then remembered her outburst after learning of his "acquaintances."

"All right. I accept your apology," she said slowly.

"Then might I suggest that we begin anew?"

"Anew?" Sarah asked. She frowned slightly. "What do you mean?"

He gave a slight smile and then said, "Allow me to introduce myself. I am Jareth, King of the Goblins."

Her mouth dropped open in surprise and she looked at him carefully. Was he making fun of her? He seemed sincere, but then, he usually did. That was his stock and trade, wasn't it? Even when that sincerity was false.

She bit her lip. Oh, well, she thought, if he gave her any more trouble, she'd just shove him out into the cold and lock the door. She grinned suddenly at the thought.

Lifting her head high, she pulled at an imaginary skirt and dipped into a curtsy. She watched a smile briefly tug at his mouth before he adopted a serious expression. When she rose, she held out her hand.

"I'm Sarah Williams. I'm pleased to meet you," she replied.

He took her hand, but instead of shaking it as she expected, he took her hand in his and bowed over it.

"It seems that you have a great number of filled bags in the next room and an equally great number of empty shelves in this one," he said. "May I assist you?"

"Yes, thank you," she replied with a shy smile.

"Where shall I begin?" Jareth asked. "Would you like me to carry the remaining bags into this room?"

"Are you sure you're feeling better? Some of them are heavy."

"I am quite well," he assured her.

Before she could answer, the teakettle began to shriek in the kitchen.

"Why don't we have breakfast first. Then we can sort out the supplies. Are you hungry?" she asked.

"Yes," Jareth said with a slight smile. "I seem to have missed dinner. Unconsciousness does make dining difficult."

Sarah blinked at him. "Did you just make a joke?"

His smile widened. "Did you think I have no sense of humor?"

"No, I knew you had a sense of humor. I just always though it was more..." her voice trailed off.

"Unorthodox?" he suggested.

"Vicious," she said slowly.

It was his turn to look surprised.

"Then it is a good thing that we have agreed to begin anew," Jareth said quietly. "Perhaps I can change your opinion of me."

"Maybe," Sarah met his eyes. "I guess we'll see."

~*~*~*~*~

After a quick breakfast, Sarah began arranging the supplies on the shelves while Jareth carried the rest of the bags into the storeroom.

"There," he said, as he placed an armful of sacks on top of the dryer. "This is the last."

Sarah nodded her thanks and then glanced around the room in dismay. The bags covered the tops of the appliances and almost all of the floor space.

"I didn't realize I'd bought so much," she sighed.

Jareth reached into a bag and pulled out a package of rice. "Shall I help you put these things on the shelves?"

Sarah smiled and said, "Not unless you want to do the cooking. I need to know where everything is and if we both put this stuff up, something's going to get misplaced. Thank you, though."

Sarah stood on tiptoes and reached up to put a box of laundry detergent on the topmost shelf.

"Allow me," Jareth said and he moved close to her, his body barely brushing hers and took the box and began to place it on the shelf.

She froze for a moment at the contact. Her heart was suddenly beating faster and it was difficult to catch her breath. She quickly lowered her arm and took a half-step back. Jareth didn't seem to notice her reaction; he merely put the detergent on a lower shelf and then reached back to the top shelf.

"There is something already here," he said and pulled down a small black and red case.

"Oh," Sarah exclaimed. "I haven't seen that in years. I'd wondered what happened to it."

Jareth held the case out to her.

"What is it?" he asked.

"It's my old backgammon set," she replied, brushing the dust off the case with her hand. "It's a game," she continued in explanation. "I used to be pretty good at it, too."

"I am familiar with the game of backgammon," he said. "However, when I learned it originally, it was called by a different name."

Sarah looked up Jareth and saw his intent expression as he regarded the case in her hands. The legends claimed that the fae loved games, she recalled.

She glanced quickly around the storage room. There wasn't anything in here that couldn't wait. She grinned at Jareth and held up the case.

"Want to play?" she asked.

Jareth gave a slow smile and his eyes suddenly gleamed. "I would be delighted."

~*~*~*~*~

They set up the game on the coffee table with Jareth sitting on the sofa and Sarah cross-legged on the floor, facing him.

Jareth examined the doubling cube. "What are the stakes?" he asked casually.

Sarah shook her head. "Nothing. We just play."

"But having something at stake always makes the game more interesting," he commented.

"I don't mean to be rude, but you don't have anything to bet. You don't have any money here," she pointed out.

He smiled faintly. He wasn't interested in money. As soon as she had asked if he wanted to play, he'd known exactly what he wanted.

"Why don't we play for answers?" he suggested.

"Answers to what?" Sarah asked.

"For every game that I win, you will completely answer - with total honesty - one question of my choosing, and that includes expanding on a yes or no answer. For every game that you win, I will do the same," he said mildly.

He saw the sudden interest in her eyes.

"I could ask anything I wanted and you would be totally honest?" she asked slowly.

Jareth nodded. "As long as you are willing to adhere to the same conditions."

She nibbled on her bottom lip and looked at the board. Finally, she looked back at him.

"All right," she agreed.

Jareth smiled. While he had no doubt that he could word the answer to any question she asked in such a way that it adhered to the rules without giving away more than he wanted, Sarah must be very certain of her abilities to agree to his terms so easily.

This promised to be most amusing.

"How many games shall we play?" he asked.

"As many as we want, I guess," Sarah shrugged and then grinned. "Or until I feel guilty over playing games instead of putting up the supplies."

Jareth picked up one of the dice and held the other out to Sarah.

"Shall we begin?" he asked.

Sarah won the initial roll and chose to play black, leaving Jareth to play white. The role reversal was a refreshing change. He had predicted being relegated to black.

To his surprise, Sarah was a better player than he had anticipated and he found himself enjoying the game immensely. It was with a great deal of regret that he deliberately made the subtle mistake that allowed her to win. But he wanted at least one advantage and this was his only opportunity to gain the particular benefit he wanted.

As Sarah moved her last piece from the board, she looked up at him in triumph and then leaned back, resting her hands on the floor and narrowing her eyes in contemplation.

Finally, she tilted her head, looked at him and asked, "When I was in the Labyrinth and you sent the Cleaners and your army after me, did you mean to kill me?"

He laughed. "If I had meant to kill you, Sarah, you would be dead. The Cleaners were only a test of your resourcefulness. If you had not pressed against the wall, the Cleaners would have simply stopped and blocked your way. My army was only supposed to capture you." He sighed. "They are overly enthusiastic at times, however, and can become caught up in the heat of the moment. You were in more danger from their incompetence than their skill."

Jareth smiled and arched an eyebrow. "Shall we play again?" he asked.

"Okay," she nodded.

This time Jareth was determined to win. While Sarah put up a valiant struggle, a fortuitous roll of double six allowed him to take the game.

He grinned but said nothing and began setting the board up again.

"Are you going to forfeit your question?" Sarah asked, puzzled.

"Of course not," he said, still moving the pieces back into opening position.

"But you haven't asked me anything." She frowned slightly.

"I believe I shall defer my question until I know better what I wish to ask," he said softly.

He saw comprehension flare in her eyes a split second before they narrowed in exasperation. He had set no time limit and she had agreed.

Sarah shook her head and pointed to the board. "If you're going to store up questions, then no more games. I don't want to be ambushed later."

Jareth had anticipated her response and made an effort to appear disappointed. He pretended to contemplate the situation for a moment and then offered his compromise.

"Any additional questions must be asked before the end of the day in which the game has been played. That should prevent an "ambush," as you call it," he said.

"Including the question you've already won," she said quickly.

"No," he shook his head. "I won that question with no time restrictions. That does not change."

She was silent for a long moment and then finally nodded. "All right. You can keep that one. But from now on, every question has to be asked the same day that the game is played."

"Agreed," he said with a smile.

~*~*~*~*~

They played backgammon all afternoon, each game getting progressively longer as they learned the other's strengths and weaknesses. Jareth had the distinct advantage of more experience and was the superior strategist, but the sheer luck involved in each roll of the dice and Sarah's unpredictability kept them well matched.

As Jareth moved the last of his pieces from the board, winning another game, Sarah's stomach growled loudly. She looked embarrassed and Jareth chuckled.

"I am a bit hungry, also," he admitted.

Sarah glanced at her watch. "It's no wonder. We played through lunch and it's time for dinner."

Jareth smiled as he began placing the pieces back into the case. All in all, it had been quite an enjoyable afternoon and he had won three additional questions to Sarah's two.

"Perhaps we should dine and then ask our questions," he suggested.

Sarah agreed and while she prepared dinner, Jareth added wood to the fire and lifted the curtain away from one of the windows. All he could see in the darkness was the swirl of blowing snow against the glass.

"It continues to snow," he told her.

"We'll have to bring in more wood tomorrow," she said, craning her neck to look at the wood box. "I think we've got enough for tonight. I just hope we don't lose the electricity. There's a generator, but we'd have to use the furnace sparingly and rely mainly on the fireplace for heat."

At his blank look, she shook her head and laughed softly. "It's not important," she said. "But I should have had a telephone installed up here. My grandfather never wanted one and I just never bothered. I didn't want the extra expense. I told Gary I'd call him, but I thought I'd be able to drive into Hague and use a pay phone. I didn't expect this storm."

In a few minutes, a delicious smell began filling the room and Jareth walked over to see what Sarah was cooking. She was sautéing onions and slices of meat. A pot of water was heating on another part of the stove.

"I hope you like beef stroganoff," she said.

"I do not know," he said. "I have never had it before, but it smells very good."

He casually leaned close to her and looked into the skillet. He noticed her stiffen and move away from him slightly. That was the second time his presence had made her uneasy. The first was in the storage room when he had deliberately brushed against her. He glanced at her and saw that she had her eyes firmly fixed on the food that she was cooking. A faint blush tinged her cheeks.

He smirked to himself. Her attraction to him was painfully transparent but, once again, he pretended that he had noticed nothing and moved away from her.

"May I help you in some way?" he asked politely.

"You could turn on the radio, I'd like to hear a news or weather report. I doubt that you'll get anything, though. The clouds are so low here that it may block reception, but it's worth a try," she said.

Jareth went to the radio and looked at it. After careful examination, he found a small button labeled 'power' and pressed it. He was rewarded with the sight of lights on the front of the radio. However, no sound came from the black boxes sitting on either side.

"I believe it is defective," he called to her.

"There's a button that slides from side to side. See if it's set on radio. If it's on CD or tape, then move it."

He found the button and slid it to the radio position. In a moment, the sound of static filled the air. Sarah heard the sound and gave him instructions on finding a radio station. He turned the knob labeled 'tuner,' but found only more static.

In a moment, she was at his side.

"Well, we're obviously not going to listen to the radio." She moved the button back to CD. "Let me show you how to work the CD player."

After a quick lesson, she pointed to several small plastic boxes lying on the shelves.

"Play whatever you like," she said over her shoulder as she returned to the kitchen area.

"These contain music?" he murmured as he examined his reflection in the shiny surface of a compact disc. "How astonishing."

For the next half-hour, Jareth entertained himself by playing snippets of each song on each CD that she had at the cabin. Most were classical, but there was some Celtic and New Age music interspersed with the Beethoven, Rachmaninoff and Mahler. He had just settled on a disc that held a variety of composers when he glanced in Sarah's direction. She was setting the table and had stopped to watch him. Her expression seemed almost melancholy.

"Is something wrong?" he asked.

She shook her head slightly and then smiled brightly. "No, nothing's wrong. Dinner's ready."

~*~*~*~*~

While Sarah set the table, she laughed to herself over the sight of Jareth absorbed in switching the compact discs and playing bits of songs. She thought back over his total focus on the games they had played that afternoon and how he'd smiled gleefully at each win and pouted slightly at each loss. There was a distinctly childish side to his nature, she mused. She corrected herself almost immediately. It wasn't so much childish as childlike. But then, he was fae and wasn't that how they were supposed to act? With a little shock, the logical conclusion of that bit of knowledge finally sank in.

Jareth wasn't human and it wasn't fair to judge him by human standards. Tricks and games and riddles were as much a part of him as his blond hair and intriguing eyes.

How boring she must seem in comparison, she thought plaintively.

"Is something wrong?" Jareth asked.

She blinked and shook her head. "No, nothing's wrong." She forced herself to smile brightly. "Dinner's ready."

She prepared their plates and as she moved to sit down, Jareth held her chair for her.

"Thank you," she said, surprised.

While they ate, she puzzled over the change in Jareth. Just yesterday, he had been rude and arrogant, and yet today he was charming and pleasant.

'He was sick,' her mind pointed out. 'He was dying. How charming would you have been in his condition?'

Maybe that's all it was, she thought. Or maybe that's what she wanted to believe. Illusion was part of his nature. So, which was the illusion? It was so difficult to figure him out.

Jareth spoke, interrupting her thoughts. "This dish is excellent," he said as he took a bite of stroganoff.

"Thank you. Um, have you thought any more about why you don't have any magic?" she asked. "Have you figured out what the Labyrinth wants you to do?" She looked down at her plate and held her breath.

Jareth took a sip of water. "I have thought about it, yes. But I'm not certain why the Labyrinth has left me here with no way to take you back to the Underground. I have apparently been set a task and yet I still do not know what it is."

She gave a silent sigh of relief. She was safe so far, she thought.

"You're taking everything so calmly," she said. "It was obvious that you weren't - aren't - happy about the situation, but I guess I... I expected you to throw a screaming fit." She smiled slightly. "I think I would have."

He looked surprised. "How would that have helped?"

"It wouldn't," she shook her head. "It was the reaction I expected, that's all."

"I will rant and rave if you would prefer," Jareth said with a faint smile.

"No, thanks, " she said dryly, "but I appreciate the offer."

"Well, I certainly wouldn't want you to be disappointed," he said softly.

Sarah looked at him quickly. His voice had almost seemed... suggestive. But surely she was wrong, he wasn't even looking at her, he had turned his attention back to his meal.