The Bed You Make
Chapter 45, continued

Unfortunately for Dara her shower was only half successful. Physically she felt like a new person... the state of her musings, however, was a whole other situation. Dara had tried, during her shower, to keep her mind away from certain thoughts. Five minutes in she'd conceded that the harder she tried to dismiss unwanted truths, the harder they fought to be acknowledged. Her particular unwanted truth was screaming at the top of its voice that Dara found her husband intensely attractive - no matter her protests. But only with the greatest of reluctance was Dara able to privately concede that she felt a physical pull toward Stefan that was becoming very difficult to deny. The man was unerringly polite, he did not raise his voice, and his expression did not falter. Even in rare moments of anger, Stefan's ire was couched in the most courteous language possible. He was handsome, rich, and loved his nephew. When viewed objectively, what wasn't there to like?

Even the occasional glimpses of the primal animal beneath the polished veneer did nothing to dull her attraction. Quite the opposite. Strong men were Dara's Kryptonite. A trusted college advisor had once cautioned her that she would never be happy with a man whose strength did not surpass her own. At the time she'd sputtered in indignation at the woman's assertion. Time and experience had shown the young lawyer the truth of her mentor's words. Dara preferred the challenge of an 'alpha male' in her life. Stefan Cassadine was definitely that. Problem was that he was a lot of other things, too. And it was those other aspects of the man that gave Dara reason to fight the attraction she felt for Stefan.

He'd made it plain from the beginning of their endeavor that he would do whatever it took to secure the future he envisioned for his nephew Nikolas. Dara had no doubt that included decimating her if that was what it took.

"I trust your shower was satisfactory?" Stefan's urbane voice jolted Dara from her musings. He stood just inside the door carrying a highly polished teapot and two bone china cups on a silver tray.

"It was... fine," she answered, once her heartbeat returned to normal. "But whatever problem I had is no fault of the accommodations. Or of that magic potion you plied me with last night." Dara gave Stefan a fleeting smile. "What was that, anyway?"

"A long-held Cassadine anodyne," Stefan replied. "I am pleased you found it effective."

"I did. It seems I underestimated how potent that vodka was." Dara grimaced. "Go ahead, say you told me so."

"That is not necessary," Stefan replied calmly. He placed the tea service down on the bedside table and poured Dara a cup, adding the splash of milk and sugar cubes she preferred. "We are both aware that I attempted - several times - to warn you."

"Gee, thanks. I'd rather you say you told me so." Dara gratefully accepted the tea. The rich aroma filled her nostrils and she inhaled deeply. "I think," Dara took a careful sip, "that I might have accused you of trying to poison me last night."

Stefan poured himself a cup of the pungent black Ceylon brew. He added no sugar or milk. "I took no offense to your inebriated accusations. Nor," Stefan added as he delicately squeezed a wedge of lemon over his cup, "was I perturbed by your insistent admiration of my ... 'man part' , I believe you termed it."

Only quick reflexes and a bit of luck prevented Dara from having a lapful of steaming tea. "Your- I- Your-"

continued