Melissa Williams couldn’t believe her luck when she saw the handsome young man with dark hair striding into the gallery. God, he literally took her breath away, and she really couldn’t take her eyes off him as he purposely headed toward her. There was that something about him that really fascinated her. She decided it was partially due to the way he was walking, with that easy and confident grace that told the world he wasn’t the type to be messed with, that he knew what his goal was and wouldn’t deter until he accomplished it. The aura she sensed from him was that of mystery and darkness, and it intrigued her even more, thrilling her to a new height.

This guy was the hard-to-catch type—the type that wouldn’t get into bed with her that easily. Then there was also the fact that he was way out of her league, but that made Melissa want him even more.

Her eyes gleamed with delight as he came toward her. God, just look at the way he walks. And his body? She was sure beneath that expensive Armani suit was a body to die for, with toned, firm muscles and, yes, six-pack abs. Her blood trilled at the thought of her fingers brushing against those abs.

As he came closer, she wondered if he swam. His body sure did indicate so, even if it were just for pleasure.

He stopped in front of her at the counter. His face—strong and breathtakingly gorgeous—was impassive. And those eyes of his. They were deep, sharp with intelligence, and very intense. The color really fascinated her. It was a type she’d never seen before. The color of the moon on a stormy night. Especially when lightning strikes. It had that odd pale lavender reflecting within. A mauve grey.

He put one masculine hand on the counter, a hand that told her it could be turned into a passionate lover’s. The thought of that particular hand on her body made Melissa go hot. She sighed as she gazed at his hand, her mind wandering.

“I’m here to pick up a painting,” he said, his voice deep, which caused Melissa’s heart to flutter within her chest with delight.

Melissa smiled pleasantly, her cheeks blushing a perfect pink she was sure would attract any male’s attention. She licked her fuchsia lips, hoping to draw his attention there. No such luck though, as the young man darted his eyes to the paintings around the gallery instead.

So what? He found Sakura Tanaka’s paintings way more interesting than her? Melissa wasn’t pleased about that and silently fumed. Was he to be another of the many men who came into this gallery only to see the pretty painter and buy her paintings? Was he to be another of the many men who paid no attention to her, the hot sales assistant?

Melissa was pissed.

“There’s only one painting to be picked up today,” she said, still eyeing the gorgeous dark-haired man with undisguised interest that practically screamed, Please look at me. I’m begging you. I want you!

The man turned to her, his eyes dark and intense. Still unsmiling, he said, “I don’t have a lot of time. Please hurry.”

Melissa was taken aback. Oh, for goodness sake’s! It was a bloody Saturday. What was he in such a hurry for? Obviously something very important, such as a party or something, considering the fact that he was dressed for one. Shit! That suit would probably cost as much as her entire year of salary.

Melissa cleared her throat and said, “I’m sorry, sir, but I need confirmation of your identity.” She secretly smiled. Now I get to know who you are, you hot thing.

“Is this some type of bar or something? Will a driver license do?” he asked, his dark brows rose.

Melissa blushed. “No sir, but we do get some weirdo coming in and claiming to have bought a painting but it was for someone else you see and, erm, naturally we don’t want that to happen again.”

“I see,” the man said. He took out a receipt from his pocket and gave it to her.

Melissa glanced at the receipt, recognized the client’s numbers, and gasped. “I’m sorry, sir, but you’re our regular.” She glanced up, her eyes large. So this was the man who had always bought Sakura’s photographs and paintings, eh? Shit! He was totally hot. And Melissa was rather glad Sakura had already left for the day, and therefore, couldn’t meet this piece of dreamer.

“I’m not. I’m picking it up for my brother,” he said.

Melissa sighed with relief. Thank God, she thought, because that meant that he shouldn’t be back here to see Sakura. She grinned and said, “I’m sorry, sir, I do still need to see your identification. Just to confirm, if you know what I mean.”

“Yeah,” he said, took his wallet out, and showed her his ID.

Melissa looked closely and said under her breath, “Darcy Princeton.” God, it suited him, she thought, and smiled pleasantly. “Thanks,” she said. ‘I’ll just go and get that painting now.” She headed over to the back of the gallery, making sure that her backside, which was nicely on display wearing the tight pencil skirt, swayed elegantly.

Darcy wasn’t paying attention to the brunette floozy who he found rather irritating and turned to marvel at the paintings that were surrounding him instead. Most were of cherry blossom trees in full bloom and some were of birds. He glanced at his watch to make sure he wasn’t running late and then turned to scan the other side of the gallery, having nothing else to do. That was when he saw the painting of the cherry blossom tree. His heart skipped a beat and then continued beating furiously. His stomach fluttered and his whole body tense. He couldn’t help himself and strode over briskly to take a closer look.

There, resting against the wall was the painting that reminded him of the cherry blossom tree on St. Joseph Island; the tree he had kissed Sakura under.

Suddenly it all came back to him.

* * * * *

 

Darce! My dear Darce!

Little Darcy saw the long, dark hair flying, the pale hand reaching out to him, and the pretty face laughing.

“You can’t catch me,” she sang sweetly as she ran away from him amongst the tall grass.

“Snow!” he shouted, racing after her. “Snow? Where are you? I’ll find you soon. I won’t lose you.”

“Really?” she giggled from afar, her voice light and echoing all around him. “You don’t even know where I am.”

Darcy twisted around in his spot, confused and lost amidst the woods. “I’ll find you. You’ll see. And when I do, I’m never going to let you go. You’re going to be mine forever and ever.”

A beautiful laugh followed. “Then find me. I’m waiting for you to find me. Darce, my dear Darce…”

Darcy found himself running until he was breathless. Then he saw a glimpse of white material. He sprinted toward it, and as he came closer, he saw her long hair.

“I got you now,” he chuckled and pulled her into his arms. They both fell to the ground and got into a fit of giggle.

“You found me, Darce dear,” she said. “I’m so glad. So very glad.”

“Me, too,” he replied. He made her sit up and then laid his head on her lap. “Now you must watch over me while I take a nap.”

She cocked her head to one side. “Sleep, my dear Darce, and I will watch over you.”

Little Darcy nodded and closed his eyes.

“Snow? Why does cherry blossom falls?” he asked suddenly, gazing off at the tiny petals raining on them.

“They are the tears of spring, Darcy, the tears of spring,” she replied, smiling as she, too, gazed up at the swirling flowers that surrounded them.

Darcy nodded and closed his eyes again. When he opened them some moments later, he felt something tickling his face. The first thing he saw was the clear blue sky above him. It was a beautiful spring day, and he didn’t want it to ever end. He turned his eyes to the left, and his heart glowed with joy as his eyes met his pretty adopted sister’s.

Sakura was watching him, a smile on her lips. She looked like an angel, Darcy thought with pride. With her long dark hair and pale skin; she looked just like Snow White in the fairy tale book.

“You’re awake?” she asked softly.

Darcy adjusted his head on her lap so that he could lie more comfortably. Her thighs were soft beneath his head, and he liked that. He liked that a lot. He only wished that he could sleep on her lap every night instead of his pillows. 

He reached his small hand out and started playing with her long hair, coiling the strands about his fingers. He didn’t know why but he just loved being with Sakura. She made him feel wonderful.

“Did you have a good sleep?” she asked.

“Yes,” Darcy replied.

“Did you have a good dream?”

“Nope.”

Sakura moved her hand and ruffled his dark hair. Darcy liked that. He liked that a lot.

“I don’t have good dreams either,” she whispered softly, gazing off into the distance.

Darcy looked up at her, noting her sorrow expression which in turned caused his own heart to rob with pain. Of course, he didn’t understand why.

“Do you have nightmares?” he asked.

He watched her nod her head.

“Well, if you have another one, I’ll come and sleep with you. I’ll protect you from your nightmare. I’ll be your bodyguard. I’ll be your prince, Sakura.”

She laughed softly. “You’re only a little boy, Darce.”

“I don’t care. I’ll still protect you even if I’m just a little boy,” he said firmly, giving her a dashing smile. He moved his hand from her hair to touch her face then, his little finger caressing her soft skin.

“You’re such a nice brother, Darce,” she said, returning his smile.

Darcy’s expression quickly changed to a scowl. He sat up abruptly which caused Sakura to gasp in surprise.  He turned to look at her long and hard, his mauve gray eyes intense on her face. “I’m not your brother,” he muttered darkly.

Sakura was taken aback. “But—”

“I don’t want to be your brother—ever!” he said firmly. “I want to be with you forever, but I don’t want to be your brother.”

“Darce,” Sakura whispered, her face pale and sad. “But I thought you like me.”

Darcy panicked. No! No! No! He didn’t want to upset her. He just didn’t want her to be his sister, that was all. So why was she so upset? Oh no! She was going to cry.

“I do,” he protested, trying to soothe her sadness. “I like you a lot.”

“Then why?” she asked. “Why, Darce? Why can’t I be your sister like Alaina and Tara?”

Darcy watched two fat tears rolling down Sakura’s cheeks. He didn’t understand why himself, but he just knew that he wanted to stay with her forever and that he didn’t want her as his sister.

“Because I love you. Because I never want to lose you, ever!”

* * * * *

 

Darcy felt his heart thumping loudly and furiously within his chest. His head was pounding at the reminder of their childhood.

Could this tree in the painting be the same tree on St. Joseph Island? But how? No! It must be his imagination. No, he reasoned himself. It was just very alike, that was all, and nothing more.

“Ah, there you are,” Melissa said from the distance. “It’s ready.”

Darcy turned to her then. “That painting, how much is it?”

Melissa blinked, momentarily confused. Then she turned her attention to the painting on the floor resting against the wall. The first thought that came into her mind was ‘it’s finished?’

“How much is it?” he asked again, his eyes intense.

“I’m not sure,” Melissa said uncertainly, taken by surprised by his tense tone of voice. “I’ll have to ask first.”

“Who’s the owner?” Darcy demanded.

“Ms. Tanaka,” Melissa said. “But she’s out.”

Darcy gritted his teeth. “I want that painting. How much is it?”

“I don’t know, sir,” Melissa replied again. “You’ll have to wait until Ms. Tanaka return.” Then she thought, ‘well that was stupid of you, Melissa’. She grinned pleasantly and said instead, “But I’m sure it’s not so much different from her other paintings. How about I look up in the computer for you? She usually logs in the price for her painting in the computer.”

“Please, do that,” Darcy said.

Once Melissa quickly rushed to the back of the gallery, he turned his attention back to the painting. He went down on one knee and inspect closer. He noted that the paint was still slightly wet.

“Sakura,” he said softly.

A moment later, Melissa came back out. “Thank god,” she said, laughing uneasily. “I’ve found the price. It’s five thousand.” The exact price, she thought, for that sexy red dress she had wanted for ages.

“Please be careful packing, apparently it’s still a bit wet,” Darcy said, taking his wallet out.

“Really?” Melissa asked. “I will. Oh, it’ll have to be check, sir. Our system isn’t working today.” That was a lie, but then again, Melissa was used to lying.

After he had signed and given her the five thousand dollars check, Darcy carried the two paintings out the door, leaving Melissa to wonder how she was to ask him out on a date.

Outside, Darcy carefully placed the two paintings in the boot of his car and then drove across from Soho to the other side of town to Princeton Hotel. After parking the car in private parking lot under the building, he headed up the stairs and came into the main foyer. He was struck with a hive of activities. There were people everywhere, guests of all assort, staffs going about their works, and those who were there for the fashion show.

He hurried past them toward the lift. Thank God, not many were there and when it dinged, he walked in. A couple of people got into the lift with him and when it closed again, Darcy sighed with relief. He hated sharing his space with other people, especially in a lift and especially when it was jammed pack with people.

His phoned beeped. He got it out of his pocket and saw that he had a text message.

Ding! He knew the door of the elevator had just opened again and more people were coming in. Darcy wasn’t paying any attention though as he was too busy reading the text from Conrad.

 

Darcy, where the heck are you? We’re at Mom and Dad’s penthouse. Meeting before the show. Hurry!!!

 

Darcy texted back: In the lift. Be there soon. He pushed sent. That was when he realized the lift was jammed pack with people.

“Shit!” he swore under his breath as he was being pushed back to the corner. Then he realized there was a lovely blond squashed right up against him. Oh God! He could feel her softness against his hard length. Her hair, the color reminded him of dust corn, was brushing against his chin. She had beautiful smell, he thought. It reminded him of spring, and instantly, the image of the cherry blossom tree came rushing back to him in full force. The gentle breeze, the warmth, the soft lips of Sakura—

He flashed his eyes opened and gritted his teeth. Without knowing it, his hand was lifted up with its own accord, ready to touch the lock of pale hair. Darcy held himself in check on time. Shit! He was just about to caress a stranger.

Then there was some more shuffling within the elevator, and she was thrust up against him even more, the side of her face snuggling against his brick wall of chest.

“Oh God! I’m so sorry,” she said breathlessly.

That voice. Shit! That voice. He knew he had heard of that voice before. No! It couldn’t be. How could it be? Sakura couldn’t be here. Not here! Yes, he must be going crazy, he thought.

* * * * *

 

“Fourth floor,” Sakura murmured to herself as she rushed along the corridor.

She couldn’t believe it. Jane had been right. Backstage was as hectic and busy as a beehive. Everybody was running around everywhere and doing everything, and now she was one of them. Except she wasn’t properly dressed like them in black shirt, black jeans, and comfortable shoes. She was wearing her long skirt, white frilly blouse, and a pair of heels. Yes, she looked elegant and lovely. And no, she was not comfortable in these to do this particular job which required her to run.

Now she was running toward the lift, hoping to get to the fourth floor on time so she could give these files to Chris Wilson, who was supposed to arrange all the wardrobe according to these lists that was in her clutch.

She got to the lift just in time as it was opening. Hastily, she rushed in, not looking at who was in there. The moment she stepped in, at least a dozen more people rushed in as well, pushing her back to the corner. She found herself squeezing against three other people, and one of those was behind her. She hadn’t time to look up at him as she was too busy texting Jane to tell her friend that she was on her way.

Oh God, she thought, this was not what she had expected. Being squished up against a stranger wasn’t part of her to do list. She hoped the man behind her, whoever he was, wouldn’t mind too much. She really did want to take a sneak peek at him but found it too embarrassing to do so. Holy Mother! She could feel the length of him—his hard muscular chest, his firmed abs, and the length of his long legs, against her.

Suddenly, there was more shuffling within the confined space of the lift, and Sakura found herself thrusting back even more against the stranger and her face snuggling against his massive, rock hard chest.

“Oh God! I’m so sorry,” she said breathlessly to him. Then the door dinged, opened, and Sakura rushed out with other people, hoping the stranger would accept her apology.

She wasn’t thinking much about him after that as she rushed toward the room she was told to. She knocked on the door, and it was instantly opened by Chris himself who she had met only half an hour ago.

“I got the list,” she said.

“Thank God,” Chris said and pulled her in. “Come on, help me take these down to the first floor.”

Sakura simply wanted to laugh. Here she was ready to meet her biological mother, but what was she doing now? Helping Chris carrying designer gowns.

Some twenty minutes later, they were back on the first floor where the backstage was held. She was just resting and massaging her arms when someone said, “Sakura?” loudly.

Sakura lifted her head and said, “Yes?”

A woman with brown hair and red face headed straight at her, looked her up and down and said, “You’re late.”

Without telling her as to what was going on, the woman got a tight hold of her wrist and led her away.

* * * * *