From Pemberley to Manhattan [COMPLETED]

Chapter 22

It all began as Nathalie decided to confront his boyfriend about his promise earlier. Doug had guaranteed he would find a way to infiltrate her bedroom, the promised land. She wore her sexy, pink lace nightie, and waited for him. Waited until she began daydreaming about Darcy's deep blue eyes staring at her, about his soft, puffy lips kissing every inch of her skin, about how proportional he must be and, if so, how impressive his–

Nathalie Estevez Brown! Control you flocking self!

She took a deep, ragged breath, and decided that if the mountain would not come to Muhammad then Muhammad must go to the mountain...

Making a long, embarrassing story short: Nathalie sneaked into her boyfriend's bedroom, only to find him fast asleep. Not able to make herself sleep (you know, being frustrated and thinking of Mr. Darcy proportionality and all), she went downstairs to the game room. Besides the heated pool and the ocean view, it was her favorite feature of the mansion.

There was a beige carpet in the middle of the room covering part of the hardwood floors. On the right side, there was a pool table and a shooting target behind it. On the back wall, there was a huge plasma TV, with a last generation home theater system. Right under the windows at her left, there were two leather armchairs with a coffee table between them. Facing the TV, against the front wall, there was a light brown, three seater sofa.

In that couch, looking adorably comfortable, was Darcy. Alone. All by himself. Just him, and his puffy lips, and his deep blue eyes. Oh, and his British accent. And, of course, the baritone voice.

"Can't sleep either?", she demanded softly as he noticed her presence.

Mr. Darcy didn't answer. Instead, all he did was stare at her as if she were a ghost. Marilyn Monroe's ghost, for the way his eyes were burning as he analyzed her inch by inch. Only then she remembered what she was wearing. Her Victoria's Secret nightie.

♥

"Darcy?!" The stress in her voice drew his attention back to her face. For a moment, he imagined he had fallen asleep in the game room, and was shamelessly dreaming about Miss Nathalie in her undergarments, something that had happened before during that week. "What are you doing down here?"

However, this time she was real. Still staring into his eyes, probably reading his desire in them, she sat by his side in the couch and hid part of her cleavage by hugging a pillow. It didn't help, since Mr. Darcy had his memory to tell him how perfect she looked underneath that pillow.

He cleared his throat. Once, twice, three times. Finally, he found his voice again. "Your brother was so kind to offer me poison to eat." Nathalie couldn't identify the sarcasm in his tone, but she was sure it was there. After all, her brother wouldn't hurt Darcy. Right? "Gladly, Miss Anna had been mistaken; it was not a deadly poison. Still, it did make me feel rather ill. So I am not in a position to sleep."

"Right", Nathalie didn't have many options for conversation topics at two A.M., so she used the easier one, "So, what do you think of the house?"

"It is acceptable", he replied seriously, looking around the room.

Nathalie chuckled, already feeling less ashamed, then glanced at the TV. "What are you watching, anyway?"

Darcy simply shrugged. He had no idea, neither did he care. Clearly, he was far more interested in what was going on in that couch. Avoiding his stare, Nat watched the movie for a few minutes before recognizing it.

"The killers", she affirmed automatically.

"I beg your pardon?"

She found the movie mediocre at best. But it had become a classic for two main reasons: it was the last cinematographic production in which Ronald Reagan had last acted before becoming President. And the only one he'd ever played the villain.

"Do you recognize that actor?", she pointed at the much younger version of the face that would later become one of the most famous in the world.

"I believe I have never been introduced to him", he considered, "and there's no reason for me to make his acquaintance, since the man is a scoundrel."

Nathalie just loved his sarcastic remarks; she knew not many people would understand his jokes. "Yeah, and the whole Iran-Contra Affair didn't help his reputation much, either", she remarked, still chuckling a little.

Again, Darcy was lost to the meaning of Miss Nathalie's statement. However, she'd mentioned it as a well-known piece of information; so he decided to proceed as if he comprehended all. Robert had advised him to do so. Therefore, he nodded as if he shared her opinion, and she went on.

"I never liked him much." Nathalie continued, "He was one of my least favorite Presidents."

"President? Do you mean this scoundrel led your country?", Darcy couldn't hold himself back. She was already looking at him suspiciously, when he stupidly decided to continue, "How could gentlemen vote for a man with no honor?"

"Well, as much as it hurts me to admit, he was elected by the ladies, too", she said after laughing, again bemused by his smart humor. However, his following observation would be anything but funny to her.

"Are ladies allowed to vote now?"

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