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Part 5

Mid May 1990

Sam put down the papers she was working on as the stewardess came back through the small first class cabin. "May I have some more tea please?"

"Of course, Madam." The stewardess picked up the empty cup and saucer.

Sam looked around her, comparing this flight to the one she had been on less than twenty-four hours ago. Today her companions were well-dressed people on their way to meetings. Yesterday, she had shared a RAF Tristar with thirty members of the SAS who had just finished jungle training in Sierra Leone and were on their way back to England. She had been dressed somewhat differently too, in mud-covered fatigues, having spent two weeks living in the bush herself.

Her tea arrived and she went back to her papers once more, reading the reports that Johnny had sent over as soon as she got home. She hadnít had time to study them last night. All sheíd had time for was a long hot bath, supper and a good nightís sleep Ė in her own bed for a change!

Johnny had been intending to attend the quarterly meeting of the European Anti-Terrorist Committee himself but an emergency had occurred and he needed to get out to the Middle East.

Sam moved her shoulders to ease a crick in her neck and yawned. In the past two days, she had spent twelve hours in a transport plane, six hours on helicopter trips and would be spending an hour or so on this trip from London to Paris. Maybe Johnny had been doing her a favour when he said that he needed her to spend more time in London. After two weeks of rain, leeches and mosquitoes, she was almost ready to agree. But the thought of giving up fieldwork entirely didnít appeal either. Sitting behind a desk planning and running missions was not going to give her the buzz that active operations did.

She took a sip of her tea. Johnny had been talking for some time about setting up a section within the department to take special responsibility for terrorism. With the fall of the Berlin Wall, counter espionage with Eastern Europe was becoming a lower priority. More and more countries were having problems with terrorist attacks, so it made sense to divert some of the resources that had been poured into international work back to the home front. Johnny had been one of the few intelligence chiefs to see the implications when the wall was demolished and had been the main architect of setting up this committee. He was a true convert to sharing information with his European counterparts. For him to miss this meeting, Sam knew that whatever was going on in the Middle East must be important.

Johnny had been on at her for the past two months to consider taking over as head of the new section. He kept telling her he trusted her judgement and experience. To lead a section at her age would be a big plus for her long-term career in the Security Service Ė she knew that.

She looked down at the papers again, she had read them four times now and had made notes on anything of interest. She had to give a brief report on any information that SIS had gathered in the three months since the last meeting. That was only a formality really, any intelligence of an urgent nature was sent immediately to all the countries that were members of the committee. There had been rumours of a new proposed IRA bombing campaign being planned and Samís main purpose was to find out if anyone else had any new information.

If she learned nothing about proposed IRA activity from the meeting she fully expected that her next trip would be back to Northern Ireland. She had worked there on and off for the past ten years and wasnít really looking forward to going back. On her last trip to the province, at Christmas, she had heard a rumour that the Provoís had managed to get her code name and possibly a picture Ė it hadnít been confirmed but Sam had known from the start that it was a risk she was running.

Since December she had started to take more care, checking under her car each time she left it anywhere other than in the secure car park at the office. The department had made some changes to the Range Rover she usually drove, fitting a device that would tell her if it had been tampered with. They also had fitted a panic button and upgraded the alarm system in her home. She saw the necessity for precautions but hated all of it.

An announcement from the pilot, telling them that they would shortly be landing broke into Samís concentration. Paris was her final destination today and from the pilotís reports about fog and the bumpiness of the flight, Sam hadnít been sure they would actually be able to land.

Having finished her preparations for the meeting, she was looking forward to getting to her hotel, having an early dinner and an early night. She hadnít had any time to herself in the past two months and planned to make the most of a free day tomorrow to go shopping. There were a number of official functions that she had to attend in the next few months and she wanted to buy herself a dress or two. She had seen something she liked on her last trip and was hoping to find something similar that was in her price range.

Her last vacation, in March, had been spent with Mickey Kostmayer and he had figured in her thoughts a lot recently. She had found herself thinking more and more about the five days and nights they had spent together, rather than less, as she would have expected. They had spoken on the phone a couple of times and their inability to get together again was becoming increasingly frustrating. There had been no men in her life since March and urges that had been re-awakened when she first set eyes on the handsome Company agent were refusing to be ignored. To put it crudely, she admitted to herself, she was as randy as hell.

Mickey stood at the United Airlines counter while the harassed woman behind the desk tried to help him. "Iím sorry, sir, there are no flights at all out of Paris today. The weather conditions arenít localised and we canít transfer you to Germany or Belgium to get a flight there."

"So what are you telling me? Do I have to spend the night here in the airport?" He had spent the past three weeks trying to avoid getting his ass shot off and now he was being stiffed by the weather. There were some days it didnít pay to get out of bed.

The woman took another look at his battered passport and business class ticket, "No, I can try to find you a room for the night. There wonít be a flight out until tomorrow morning and we will have a backlog of passengers to clear so if you want to do some sightseeing and take a later flight, I can amend your ticket now."

Mickey looked around; the airport was crowded and getting worse every moment. He didnít like the idea of spending hours there while United tried to find him a bed. Maybe he ought to get over to the embassy and find out who was working the Paris desk. There might be someone he knew and he could ask a favour and see if he could find a place to crash for the night.

"Okay, book me on a flight out tomorrow afternoon. Iíve got some friends in the city so Iíll see if I can stay with them, Iím not in too much of a hurry to get back to New York." Damn right he wasnít, he only had debriefing to look forward to and since everything had gone fine in Algeria, Control wasnít going to be too concerned about his report.

Taking the replacement ticket and his passport, then picking up his duffel bag, Mickey looked around for the exit. He saw a woman walking across the hall and the way that she moved was familiar. It was only when she turned slightly, heading for the exit, that he saw her profile. A wave of pure pleasure or maybe lust Ė he wasnít sure which Ė swept over him when he realised that it was Sam.

Memories of the time they had spent together came flooding back and Mickey knew he was smiling. They had spoken a couple of times on the phone since March and had agreed that it would be fun to get together again, but it just hadnít worked out.

What was she doing here?

She looked good, her black pants and a grey sweater did nothing to disguise her figure. He was surprised by how strong the urge was to see her close up and talk to her Ė if only for a couple of minutes. She stopped to put on her jacket and Mickey began to work on an intercept plan.

He watched her head for an exit, then he left the building by a different one, jogging so that he could get ahead of her.

He waited outside until she was just a foot away from the old fashioned, swing door and headed back into the building, pushing the door just as she pulled so that they collided in the doorway. Putting on an apologetic face, Mickey said. "Gee, Iím sorry. I didnít see you there."

He knew her well enough to see the fleeting change in her expression as she pretended to stumble, just as her handbag slipped off her shoulder and all its contents spilled onto the ground.

"Let me help you," he added in a loud voice.

The pair of them crouched down, "You working?" he whispered.

"No. You?"

"No." He shook his head. "Letís get outside, thereís more room."

They collected the contents of her bag and moved back outside. The fog swirled around them and the other people leaving the airport were nothing more than shadows against the light from car headlamps. The fog muted even the sound of the taxi driversí car horns. Sam dropped her case and threw her arms around him, hugging him tightly. Putting his arms around her waist, Mickey held her close, remembering how good her body felt against his.

She stood back and looked at him, smiling like her face would split in two, "Whatíre you doing here?" He had been going to ask her the same thing.

"Iíve got a stopover and with the fog Iím stuck here until tomorrow. What about you?"

"Iím here for a meeting the day after tomorrow."

Mickey saw a calculating look on her face before she said, "Do you need somewhere to stay tonight then?"

"Yeah, why?"

"Iíve got a double bed and I was thinking that you could share with me if you wanted."

Mickey smiled, he remembered that those had been the very words she used, in March, when she had invited him to share her bed for the first time. "Iíd like that."

"Do you have to talk to your airline?" Sam said.

"Nah, Iíve already got a replacement ticket for tomorrow." He pulled her back into his arms, wanting to hold her close again. He spoke deliberately, initiating the foreplay that he knew would only end when they got to her hotel room. "I guess I could tell them that I met a woman who offered to share her bed with me!"

She brushed her lips against his neck, "Keep it up Kostmayer and you might find yourself sleeping in the bath!"

He whispered into her ear, "I thought you liked that I could keep it up?" Her low laugh sent shivers down his spine and caused a clear physical response. Jesus he hoped that her hotel wasnít too far away. He hadnít wanted anyone this badly in a long time.

"Shall we try to find a taxi?" Samís voice was even more sultry than he remembered.

He discovered that Samís French was fluent when they checked in to the Hotel Britannique on the Avenue Victoria and she spoke to the woman behind the desk. Mickeyís French was rusty and barely good enough to get a beer or a woman so he let her do all the talking.

"She says there is no problem with you staying here tonight. I have a double room anyway."

Mickey looked at her and grinned, they had slipped into the easy rapport that had grown between them from their first meeting. "Double room? Expecting company?"

Sam ignored him and turned back to the receptionist who had spoken again. Sam replied and whatever she said caused the receptionist to look at them and smile knowingly.

"She said to leave our bags here and that the porter would bring them up in a few minutes." Sam rested a hand on his arm and her touch seemed to sear through to his bones, "I told her weíd carry them up ourselves."

Mickey moved closer putting his hands on her hips. "You did? Why?"

Sam licked her lips, "Because with what I have in mind to do with you, I donít want any interruptions."

"Is that a promise?"

"Oh yes."

In the elevator, Sam leaned forward against him, slipping her arms around his waist, acknowledging his arousal. He looked into her eyes and saw her hunger for him. That she wanted him as much as he wanted her gave him an enormous thrill. He was tempted to kiss her now but knew if he did that they wouldnít be able to stop themselves and would end up screwing like rutting animals in the elevator. Leisurely, gentle lovemaking was going to have to wait for much later.

Sam unlocked the door and almost before it had closed behind them their bags and clothes were scattered on the floor. There wasnít much space in the entryway to her room and she stumbled on one of his shoes, but he caught her before she fell. Enjoying the sight of her naked body, he held her at arms length for a moment before pulling her into his arms, glorying in the touch of her skin against his. He kissed her and lost himself in the sensation of her lips against his and her tongue in his mouth.

She broke away and gasped, "Do it now, Mickey. Please!"

He nodded and then remembered, "Shit! The rubbers Ė theyíre in my wallet!"

Laughing, they both searched frantically through the pile of discarded clothing until they found his jeans. He took out a foil packet and she grabbed it from him, tearing it open with her teeth and moving closer to roll the condom down over his erection. The touch of her hands on his cock had him gasping.

Putting his arms around her, he lifted her. He didnít need to ask, knowing exactly what she would want. She clasped her legs around his hips and her arms around his neck as he thrust deep inside her. She was wet and more than ready for him. Her groan of pleasure and the way she buried her face in his neck, nipping at his throat with her teeth, almost made him to come right away. But he controlled himself, pushing her back up against the wall, thrusting into her harder and faster until they came together, moaning in a flurry of sweaty arms and legs.

Mickey rested an arm over his eyes and thought about taking a nap. A combination of jet lag and Samís demands had left him feeling like a wet dishrag. Sam was lazing beside him on the bed, her arm draped over his stomach and her head resting on his shoulder. She sighed and nuzzled his chest.

Christ, it felt good to have her there.

His stomach rumbled and Sam looked up at him, "Youíre hungry."

"MmmÖ" He stroked his hand down her back, "How about a bath and then dinner?"

She trailed her hand down over his hip, stopping at his thigh. "That sounds good. Thereís one condition though."

"Whatís that?"

She smiled, beginning to stroke his leg, her touch doing pleasurable things to his senses. "Iím not doing anything in the tub that means I have to hold my breath."

"Thatís okay, you can be on top."

In a swift movement she slid off the bed and stood waiting. He rolled over onto his side and let his gaze wander from her face over her dusky pink tipped breasts, across her flat stomach, to the triangle of dark hair at the junction of her thighs and then down her legs, fixing her image in his mind.

He reached out and traced the scar on her side with one finger, remembering the night she had told him how she got it, before slipping his hand between her thighs, exploring the soft skin there with his fingertips. He dragged his gaze back to her face when he heard her sharp intake of breath.

She bent over him for a quick kiss and, when he released her, went into the bathroom. He lay there letting his mind wander until he heard the sound of water moving as she climbed into the tub and then her voice, "Are you coming?"

"Not right away, I hope." He heard her giggle at that.

Stretching, he climbed off the bed, picked up a condom from the nightstand and walked over to the bathroom.

For a moment he was content to stand in the doorway and watch her. He could see ripples where the mounds of her breasts broke the surface of the water as she breathed in an out. She had pinned her hair up and there were faint beads of sweat on her face glistening in the light. He could smell the spicy scent and see the sheen on the surface of the water from the oil she had used. Grinning like an idiot and feeling revitalised and ready for whatever might come up, he went to join her.

Late the next morning, after a night that she knew she would remember for a long time, and breakfast in bed Sam led Mickey out of the hotel, past the Place du Châtelet and away from the river Seine into the Rue St Denis.

"Are you sure you need to go shopping today?" Mickey looked at her.

Sam smiled at him, finding it hard to hide her amusement at the little boy look on his face. "I told you last night, I need to attend a couple of dinners later this summer and I donít know when I will get another chance to get to Paris."

"I was hoping that we could have lunch down by the river." Mickey looked up at the sky, "It looks like itís going to be a beautiful day and, donít forget, I need to be back at the airport by four."

"Itís okay, Madamís shop is never crowded. Not many people know where to find her. I saw a dress that would be just right the last time I was here."

Mickey looked at her and she could see his lack of enthusiasm in his expression. "Why is she called Madam? Sounds like a brothel keeper to me. You sure she isnít a white slave trader and the dress shop is just a front?"

Sam was beginning to wonder if it wouldnít be easier to give in and forget about her shopping today. If she hurried there might be time tomorrow morning she supposed Ė but she didnít want to rush Ė sheíd made her plans. "I donít know what her full name is, everyone just calls her Madam." She heard the snap in her voice and regretted it at once.

"I donít mean to be a pain. I hate shopping. The last time I went into a ladyís store was only because I was following someone for McCall and I nearly got arrested as a shoplifting pervert."

Sam stopped outside a small shabby looking store with several old fashioned hats in the window and pulled him to a halt beside her. He turned to face her and she rested a finger lightly on his lips, anxious to make up for her short temper. "Iíll make a deal with you, Iíll be as quick as I can here and then we can go for a walk and then have lunch. Howís that?"

"Iíve got a better idea, why donít I meet you back here in an hour. You donít need me to help you shop. I donít know anything about womenís fashions."

For some reason she couldnít explain, even to herself, Sam wanted Mickeyís company while she bought her dress. She thought quickly, smiling to herself when she remembered something that she was sure would give him some interest in her shopping trip. "You remember how much you like my lingerie?"

Mickeyís answering smile was so hot and his voice so low and husky with desire that Sam had to remind herself to keep breathing. "Oh yeah."

"Well, I buy it all here. Maybe we could find something else? And who knows, if we have an early lunch I might model for you back at the hotel."

"Scoutís honour?"

Sam laughed out loud, "Donít you trust me?"

"Nope. Youíre a spy and we tell lies for a living."

Suddenly serious, Sam said, "Iíd never lie to you, Mickey." His intense look made her wish she hadnít said anything.

Mickey looked around and his gaze finally focused on the nondescript building behind her. "Is this the place? Doesnít look like any fancy clothes shops Iíve seen."

"It isnít really a shop. Madam is more of an exclusive dressmaker."

"So she makes clothes to order?"

"She does, but I couldnít afford her prices, even with hazard pay! Madam makes up some outfits for the models to wear, so that her clients can see what they look like on. She sells those off at the end of the season. Iím lucky that Iím the right size so I can get fabulous clothes at really good prices."

"Another one of your well-kept secrets? Like the Italian restaurant you took me to before?"

"You could say that. I found this place when I followed someone in here once." Before he could ask more questions Sam turned and rang the bell. In moments the door was opened and a smartly dressed girl motioned them inside.

As they entered, Sam was sure she heard Mickey mutter something like, "I hope you realise that I wouldnít do this for just anyone, this is worse than being a guest of the KGB."

Stifling a giggle she looked around, there were a two other women in the store, both with an assistant in attendance. As usual, the store was brightly lit and crammed with clothes rails where garments hung haphazardly. There was nothing typical about Madam or her shop. A couple of the models were wandering around, showing off the latest styles.

An assistant came over and recognised Sam. She told her that Madam would not keep her a moment. She showed them to some chairs and offered coffee while they were waiting, which Sam accepted for them both.

"Madam wonít be long, Mickey," Sam said, trying to reassure him.

"Thatís okay." Mickey gave her a wicked smile and nodded towards the lingerie displays, "The models, do they show off the lingerie too?"

"No they donít!" At his exaggerated look of disappointment Sam couldnít help but smile. "Madam operates like a consultant, she has assistants to see to the mundane things like helping you to try on the clothes but she decides what she thinks will suit you."

"What? She tells you what clothes to buy?"

"No, not at all. She just has a wonderful eye and, at least for me, has never suggested anything I didnít like."

Madam appeared then, looking as beautiful and regal as usual. Sam hoped that sheíd age as gracefully and look as good. She greeted Sam warmly, kissing her on both cheeks. They spoke for a few moments and then, Madam turned her shrewd gaze on Mickey. She stared at him for a long time before muttering something very quickly in French.

Mickey looked at Sam, "What did she say?"

Liking the idea of keeping Mickey in the dark Sam said, "I donít think I ought to tell you. It will only make your head swell."

Sam saw him take a breath, as though he was about to complain, when madam began to speak in English with a thick French accent. Sam had never heard her speak English before and had assumed that she did not.

"I actually said young man Ė which Samantha chose not to translate Ė was that I thought she was a very lucky woman. I said that you have the bedroom eyes." Before Sam could protest she continued, "I knew several men like that in my younger days, one was an American who worked with the Maquis. He was like you, he had the same air of danger around him." She came closer and stared at Mickey intently, "I found him very exciting."

Stunned by the revelation that she had been part of the resistance Sam saw Madam suddenly seem to remember where she was and jump back into business. She rattled off several orders to a girl assistant who rushed off, returning quickly with a least a dozen dresses on hangers. Madam held them against Sam one at a time, sorting them into two piles. In the end she gave the smaller number back to the assistant who returned them to a rail on the far side of the room. The others Madam looked at again and more slowly. Finally she selected three, two black and one a deep midnight blue that she gave to the girl.

Sam had been through the selection procedure before and knew how Madam picked clothes, Mickey just looked stunned at the speed with which she worked. "Iíll just go and try these on." She bent down to whisper in his ear, "See, I told you this wouldnít take too long."

As Sam and the girl disappeared to a changing room, Madam came closer to Mickey. She reminded him a lot of pictures he had seen of Marlene Dietrich, she was tall, slim, perfectly made up and had an air of real class. This was a lady that was used to getting her own way. Her perfume was subtle but expensive, he would bet, and Mickey found himself responding to her. He got the feeling that she had done more for the Resistance during the war than just admire one of the members. In her day, the older woman would have been as dangerous as he knew Sam could be.

Madam sat down beside him and tugged on his sleeve, pointing in the direction that Sam had gone. "She is a lovely woman and one of my favourite customers, not because she spends a lot of money Ė I donít care for the hugely wealthy Ė but because of her heart. It is in the right place you know."

Mickey looked at the old woman; her eyes were sparkling with delight. "Yes I know sheís special." Feeling a little more comfortable he looked around to make sure Sam was still out of earshot. "Could I buy something for Sam today and could you send it to her in a few days, so sheíd get it when she gets home?"

She chuckled before answering, "Of course. What would you desire, monsieur?"

Mickey took a deep breath, he hadnít bought clothes for a woman in years, and the thought that he wanted to buy something now for Sam scared him. A voice in his head told him that this was all happening too fast.

He felt his face get hot, and he cleared his throat, feeling kind of embarrassed. Murmuring low he muttered, "Sam told me she buys her lingerie here."

A smile lit up the lined features, "Yes she does. What do you want to buy for her? A basque?" Madam gestured to a nearby wax mannequin wearing nothing but a skimpy corset that fastened at the front with lots of tiny hooks.

Mickey shook his head, although he had fantasised about her in something like the corset Ė heíd love to see her wearing that Ė he liked the idea of buying something that she could wear anytime. "No nothing like that. I want a bra and matchingÖ" unable to bring himself to say panties and not knowing what else to call them, Mickey gestured vaguely at his lower body, hoping that Madam would take pity on him.

He breathed a sigh of relief when she nodded and smiled.

"What colour? Red? Black?"

Mickey shook his head again, sure the older woman was testing him.

"White." The idea of her wearing something virginal appealed to him a lot. "And something plain and simple, but really special."

Mickey looked up as Sam came to stand in front of them in the first of the dresses and Madam whispered to him, "You know your lover, young man."

It was the first time the word lover had been mentioned by anyone else and it gave Mickey a thrill to realise that they were lovers, if only temporarily.

The first dress fitted Sam like a glove. It was made of lace over the top of another fabric. Ultra simple, it was tight, emphasising the narrowness of her waist and the curve of her hips. The dress reached to her knees, and Mickeyís first thought was that it was too long and didnít show off enough of her legs. He didnít think he could tell Sam that was the reason he didnít like it.

"Well?" Sam asked.

"Itís good. Maybe a little plain?" Mickey suggested, feeling totally out of his depth. Underwear he knew a little about. Dresses? Forget it! Set him down in the middle of a minefield Ė heíd be safer!

"I thought so too."

He breathed a sigh of relief, he had said the right thing and now there were only two more to go.

Sam went off to try the next dress and Madam instantly waved her hands. Another assistant came running and Madam gave her orders. In moments the assistant had returned her arms full of swatches of white fabric. At a few words from Madam she retreated, leaving the samples on a nearby counter.

Feeling a little like a pervert, Mickey walked over to the counter and looked through them, working as fast as he could. He wanted to surprise Sam but he found himself enjoying the way the light reflected on some of the fabrics and the soft sensuous feel against the skin of his hands. He had fun imagining how she would look in some of them.

As soon as his eyes fell on one particular fabric, so fine and sheer that it was almost transparent, he knew it was exactly the right thing. Showing Madam, he was relieved when she nodded her agreement. What he would have done if she had disagreed he didnít know.

"You know her size?" Mickey asked, as he handed her his credit card.

"Of course. I will have your gift made up and sent to her at the end of the week, yes?"

"Yes." Feeling really pleased with himself Mickey added, "You know her address?"

"Of course. Is there a message you would like to include inside the box?"

"Yes, well, er, tell her the gift is from me." He might be taking a chance in sending her lingerie but he figured heíd might as well go for it; Sam could only kill him once.

An assistant produced a white card and a pen and handed them to Mickey. Without thinking he wrote," The next time we can share MY bed" and his name. It was only after he had handed the card back that he realised that his words might be misunderstood. Part of him hoped that they wouldnít. He would be really happy to spend more time with Sam.

When Sam reappeared in a midnight blue velvet dress, Mickey was once more sitting admiring the lingerie on display in the store.

He liked this dress a lot better; it fitted in all the right places, showing her curves and legs. The colour was good on her too and she had fixed her hair up so that some tendrils of it hung loosely around her face.

"I like that. Why donít you go and try the other one so that we can compare them." Mickey suggested, hoping that she would hurry and not ask him any difficult questions. He preferred the times when she didnít wear any clothes at all.

As soon as she re-appeared in the last outfit Mickey knew there was no contest. She looked stunning, the black dress and jacket fitted like a second skin. This outfit would attract a dead man; he was glad that she knew how to look after herself.

"Magnifique." He heard madam whisper from beside him and he had to agree.

Mickey went over to Sam, "This is the one. You look amazing. When you wear this, youíll have to fight them off."

She stared into his eyes and for a moment it seemed to Mickey that she was showing him her soul. "I donít want to have to fight them off, Mickey. I hate all that stuff. You know itís not me."

Careful of touching the silk, he stroked her cheek. "I know, I know."

She rested her head against his chest and slipped her arms around his waist. It was an intimate gesture and Mickey was overwhelmed by feelings of tenderness towards this woman who, if he were ever to consider settling down, would be everything he could possibly want.

Putting his fingers under her chin, he tilted her head up until he could see her face again, "Maybe you can wear the dress for me sometime?"

She smiled at that, "Whenís your birthday?"

"December."

"Thatís seven months away."

"So whenís your birthday?"

She laughed, "Thatís not much better, it isnít until October." She looked at him mischievously, "We can look at the lingerie now if you like."

Having already been through that once, Mickey could be relaxed when he said, "Sure. Why not?"

Sam was happily anticipating the surprises she had in store for Mickey later that afternoon, as she led him down to the Quai de Gesvres. She was sure they would find a café right on the river in that area. In her mind it had the added advantage that it was just around the corner from the hotel. She had made plans. Madam was going to have the dress and the lingerie she and Mickey had picked out delivered to her hotel by lunchtime Ė along with the items she had discussed privately with Madam.

Enjoying the Spring sunshine they strolled into a park that bordered the Seine. To Sam, Paris had never looked so romantic, the trees were covered in new leaves and contrasted brilliantly against the azure blue sky. In the distance she could just see the Eiffel Tower. She found her sunglasses in her handbag and put them on.

Mickey took her hand and they walked on along the path winding through the park with their fingers entwined.

"So, have you been to Paris before?" Sam asked.

"Yeah a few times. Mostly on the way back from somewhere. I spent a weekend on R & R here once in 1984Ö"

He stopped speaking as though he had realised that he shouldnít bring up other women and Sam wanted to laugh. "I never imagined you lived a celibate existence, Mickey."

He smiled, "Nope, never celibate."

Sam leaned closer to him, not wanting her words to be overheard by a couple going past in the other direction, "I get the benefit from that experience Ė so whoís complaining?"

The path reached the river and they walked on beside it for a time in silence. The sounds of the traffic were muted by distance but Sam could hear the pleasure boats as they sailed up and down, loudspeakers giving a commentary for the people on board. It was all so picture postcard perfect.

A bit further on was an old woman sitting with a huge wicker basket of flower. As Sam watched, an older couple Ė maybe in their sixties Ė stopped and the man bought a small posy of flowers which he presented to his wife. She leaned forward and kissed him gently and the beauty of the gesture made Sam swallow tears.

She looked and saw that Mickey had seen the little scene play out too. "Do you ever think you will be part of a couple like that one day?"

He rested his hand on Samís neck, stroking her, "Nah. Our profession doesnít make for a very long life expectancy. I try not to think about the future too much anymore."

Sam had the feeling there was more to his comment than immediately apparent, something he didnít want to tell her yet.

"What about you?"

Sam shrugged, "No, for the same reasons."

When they reached the flower seller, Mickey took a small bunch of violets from the basket, fishing in his pocket for the twenty francs the seller requested. He presented them to her with a flourish. Sam smelt the delicate fragrance of the flowers Ė they were small and perfectly formed.

Remembering the older couple, Sam leaned forward and kissed him. It was only a kiss, meant to mean nothing more than thank you. Maybe it had something to do with the surroundings, but the touch of their lips was one of the most sensuous moments of Samís life. From the look on Mickeyís face, when they broke apart, heíd felt it too.

They walked on in silence for a little while, until Mickey stopped and stood resting his back against the fence that bordered the river. He put his hands on her hips and pulled her to stand between his outstretched legs.

Sam looked into his face and her mouth went dry, he was just so damn handsome. She felt her heart begin to race Ė what was happening to her? She hadnít felt this much like a giddy teenager in years. He leaned forward and kissed her again, this time, still clutching her flowers, she let herself sink into the kiss, feeling the sweetness and sensuality overwhelm her. It was as though they were in a cocoon of light. Safe and warm within his arms, Sam felt that she wanted to be there forever.

Then Mickeyís stomach rumbled.

Sam burst out laughing, "Thatís really romantic, Kostmayer."

He looked at her in amusement, "Hey donít blame me, youíre the one putting all these unreasonable demands on my body."

Sam leaned over and licked his ear lobe. "I'll tell you what, how about we find somewhere to eat and then we can go back to the hotel and you can explain how unreasonable I am. But remember I want full explanations and examples."

"So you want a practical demonstration?" His eyes were alight with laughter.

"Of course. Personal one on one tuition too."

"One on oneÖ? My pleasure."

"Mine too, I think." Sam couldnít resist having the last word.

They found a place to eat that they liked and, as it was only just after noon, they were seated right away. When the waiter arrived to take their order, Mickey asked, "Do you want to share a bottle of champagne? Letís celebrate."

"What are we celebrating?"

"How about being here together? That seems like a good reason to me."

Sam was touched by the romantic gesture and making sure her flowers were placed safely on the table, reached over and rested her palm against his cheek, "Youíre right Ė itís a good idea."

The waiter brought the wine and after he had let Mickey taste it, he poured two glasses for them.

Mickey picked up his glass and clinked it softly against hers, "What shall we drink to?"

"Serendipity? How about that?"

He smiled at her, "Okay. To a happy accident."

They drank the champagne slowly.

Anticipation was driving Sam insane with desire, "So how long will my lesson last?" She teased him.

"As long as you want it to. I take pride in my work."

"Do I get to grade your efforts?"

"No need."

"Why?" Sam was puzzled for a moment or two.

"I always get an A for this subject."

Sam felt a tingling sensation start in between her legs and she pushed her knees together. She had no self control where he was concerned, she would never be able to get enough of him. Theyíd made love this morning and she was still hungry for more.

She knew she had to eat something with the wine or she would make a complete fool of herself. Sam waved at the waiter and he brought them menus. She looked through it and chose something quickly. She wanted the food to stop her getting too drunk but it wasnít her first priority. She took another sip of her wine Ė it really was delicious.

The waiter took their food order and picked up the empty bottle, "Can we have another bottle?"

"Certainment monsieur."

"Jesus, Mickey, are you trying to get me drunk?"

"Thereís no need." He gave her a lecherous grin, "You already offered to let me have my wicked way with you later."

Sam laughed, "Oh yeah?" without the buffer of the champagne, she knew she wouldnít be feeling as comfortable with the personal direction the conversation had taken. "Itís more that Iíll have my way with you! You make me so randy!" She felt a blush rush to her cheeks.

He sat back in his chair and looked at her. Then he smiled a slow sensuous smile that sent shivers down her spine. "I could tell."

Scared and excited at the same time, she wanted to know how he felt about her. "It is very good Ė you know that?"

He reached across the table and took her hand, letting their fingers entwine. "Itís always been good."

Sam wasnít sure how to reply to that. Her palm suddenly felt sweaty and she knew he would notice. Why did he affect her like this?

Mickey let go of her hand while one waiter put down their plates and another opened the second bottle, pouring a stream of the sparkling wine into each of their glasses.

After both of them had concentrated on their meal for a while, Sam pushed her plate away with a groan. Sheíd eaten and drunk too much. And now, the early afternoon sunshine made everything seem too bright.

Watching as Mickey sat back in his chair, his glass held loosely, she focused on his hand for a moment and remembered how it felt to have his hands on her body. She wriggled in her seat. Damn it! She used to have more self-control!

He had seen her involuntary movement and, smiling, he looked around for the waiter. "Iíll get the check."

"You donít have to pay for it allÖ" Sam bent down to fumble under the table for her handbag. But she realised she had drunk too much when her head began to spin.

"I want to."

The sensuality in his voice made her breathe harder.

Sam waited in silence while he paid for lunch. "How long before you have to leave?" Up to now she had tried to forget the fact that he had to get on a plane later this afternoon.

"A couple of hours."

She put out her finger and moved it along his lower lip, "I think itís time for class."

He stood and pulled her to her feet, "Yes maíam."

Unsteady in the high-heeled shoes she had worn to go clothes shopping, she liked it when Mickey put his arm around her waist and began to guide her back to the hotel.

Giggling, Sam tried to put the key into the lock again. "You know, I think they must have given me the wrong key. This one doesnít work." She turned to Mickey where he was leaning against the wall.

He put down the boxes they had collected from the desk and held out his hand for the key. "Let me try."

Swaying slightly, Sam dropped it into his hand, "Okay."

When he tried to get to the lock, she stood in front of him and pulled his face down to hers.

She would have stayed there but he pulled her over to one side and tucked her under his arm as he worked on the lock. In less than ten seconds he had the door open and was guiding her into the room.

"How did you do that?"

He laughed as he dropped the key onto the nightstand. "Iím not as drunk as you are, sugar."

"Iím not drunk!" She turned suddenly and the room tilted alarmingly. "Okay Ė maybe a little."

He spread his arms and she went into them willingly, opening the buttons on his shirt. She brushed her tongue against his chest, "MmmÖ You taste wonderful."

He kissed her again and Sam sank back into his arms. For a minute she couldnít think about anything except what they were doing. But then the feeling that she had something to remember began to make its way into the front of her mind.

She broke the kiss, "I just remembered! I promised you a fashion show." Sam surprised herself. She usually never wanted to prance around partially undressed, she had always been conscious of the scars she carried, but now they didnít seem to matter.

"You donít have to."

She liked the idea of using her new clothes to excite him further and kissed him quickly on the mouth. "I want to."

Then, picking up the boxes, she scurried into the bathroom.

She opened the smaller box and looked at the two tissue wrapped packages. The smaller one contained the sky blue camisole and panties that she and Mickey had selected. The larger package contained some things that she had had Madam pack in the box once they had left the shop. She had spent much more than she intended, but she didnít care.

She tried to dress quickly, but she kept losing her balance.

"You okay in there, Sam?" His voice was muffled by the closed door.

"Yes. I wonít be a minute."

"Youíve been so long I wondered if you fell down the toilet."

"Cheeky bugger!" she called through the door and giggled.

She fastened the zip on her dress, put her shoes back on and with a quick look in the bathroom mirror to check that everything was in the right place, she opened the door.

He was sitting in one of the easy chairs in the room and she turned slowly so that he got a good view of her dress. She felt amazing, with an ache inside her that threatened to overwhelm her.

"I like that. You look really sexy."

"Good." She walked over and stood in front of him for a moment, then bending down, she made sure he got a good look at her cleavage. "But I think I had better take it off now, itís silk and I donít want to have to get it cleaned before I get the chance to wear it for real. Can you help me with the zip? I donít want to get it stuck."

Part of her mind was yelling at her for such wanton behaviour, sheíd never done stuff like this before. The other part was telling to keep on going and make the most of the next hour or so. With their schedules, there was no way of knowing when they could meet again.

"Sure thing."

His voice was as soft as syrup and Sam felt her stomach turn over. He was just so damn attractive.

As he stood up, she turned her back, sighing as she felt his breath, warm against her bare shoulders. He rested one hand against her neck, stroking just below her ear; Sam found herself pushing against his hand and almost purring with pleasure.

He pulled the zip down and the top half of the dress slipped down to her waist revealing the strapless, black lace bra that she was wearing. Taking a deep breath, she let the dress fall the rest of the way and stepped out of it, letting Mickey take in the matching garter belt, panties and sheer black silk stockings. The approval she saw in his face thrilled her.

"Wow!" He pulled her back into his arms. "I didnít see these when you got dressed earlier. Did you buy them this morning?"

Sam tried to understand what he was saying but his hands were on the skin between the lace tops of her stockings and her panties and all of her senses went into overload.

She swallowed hard, "I thought you might like it."

"Itís great." Leaving a hand on her thigh, he slipped a finger down inside one of the cups of the bra to stroke her nipple. It hardened at once, pushing at the lace.

Ducking his head, Mickey took each nipple in turn into his mouth, sucking through the lace, until Sam thought her knees would give way. Wanting him more than she had imagined possible, Sam slipped out of the bra and reached for the catches on the garter belt but he put his hand over hers, stopping her. "No, leave it on."

"Oh my," Sam breathed, as she kicked off her shoes and stood still while he stripped off all his clothes. Sam stared at him, letting her eyes move over him. She couldnít help herself, and without thinking she sank to her knees and took him in her mouth, tasting every inch of him.

He put his hand on her head to stop her, "No wait, as much as I like you doing that Iíve got something I want to try."

Leading her over to the bed, he tried to take off her panties, but the clips on the garter belt stopped them.

Sam kissed him and reached for the side of the panties and undid a small snap. She repeated it for the other side and the underwear slipped off.

"I was wondering about those snaps when I put them on," Sam said, trying to suppress a chuckle at Mickeyís amazed look, "Madam told me that she made sure that she included exactly what weíd want."

Mickey was still staring below her waist, and Sam nearly gasped when she realised what she looked like. In her whole life she had never dressed like this Ė for anyone!

Mickeyí s face was flushed as he guided her onto the bed and onto her knees. Then he knelt behind her. She was helpless, caught up in a vortex of sensual delight that left her powerless. She felt his smooth, rubber covered cock between her legs and then he was inside her, taking her with one long thrust. Holding onto her hips he sat back on his calves, drawing her back with him until they were both upright and she was sitting on his thighs. Her back was against his chest and her knees were spread wide apart. Sam could feel him deep inside her and the pressure against the front wall of her vagina was exquisite. Every one of his slow sensuous movements translated into the sweetest of sensations. "Please donít stop."

"Itís okay, Sugar. We can make this last a long, long time." His voice was low and she felt more than heard the words, recognising somehow a remnant of his Texan childhood in his accent.

Each gentle thrust and feather-light touch on her body with his lips or hands sent her into a new paroxysm of delight. His shaft, deep inside her was her only an anchor in a sea of sensation. Her entire body was throbbing and she couldnít be sure whether she wanted to laugh or cry. Breathless with desire, she was unable to do anything when his hand slipped between her legs, finding the place where their bodies were joined. Helplessly she let her head fall back against his shoulder but still he didnít stop the insistent movements of his hand.

"Ohhhhh! Iím coming, donít stop, please!" The sensation started deep inside her and spiralled out quickly, taking her over the precipice into an orgasm that seemed to roll over her again and again.

He came then, holding onto her hips, digging his fingers into her flesh as he spasmed. When he pulled away and flopped onto his back, Sam crawled into his arms. She found herself sobbing and had no idea why.

Sam realised she had dozed for a while when she woke alone. For a second or two she panicked. He wouldnít have left without saying goodbye Ė would he? Listening, she made out the sound of water running in the shower. She sat up and picked up the posy of violets he had given her from the beside table. They were still perfect.

She was touching the delicate petals when he came out of the bathroom, wearing only his jeans and with his shirt still undone, she moved over and he sat on the edge of the bed, reaching out to stroke her arm.

"I have to go, Sugar, I have to catch that plane."

"I know butÖ" She brought the flowers closer and pretended to smell them. She couldnít say it, she knew that she didnít want him to leave, but she couldnít tell him yet. She wasnít sure enough of the way she was feeling. It was all happening too fast.

"But?"

"Itís nothing." Sam knew she was changing the subject, trying to be objective. "Hey! You called me sugar."

"I guess I did. It mustíve just slipped out. Do you mind?"

"No." She smiled at him, "I kinda liked it." Sam was surprised, in the past; pet names had made her want to cringe. It must have been the way he said it, she decided, his voice as smooth as molten velvet. SugarÖ It had sort of rolled round and off his tongue.

She sat up and kissed him, letting the sheet slip down so that she could feel his skin against hers once more. He was a drug that she couldnít get enough of. Each time they made love it just got better.

He spoke reluctantly, "I have to go or Iíll miss my flight."

"I know." Her mouth was suddenly dry and she felt the familiar sting of tears. She was relieved when he moved away to start packing his few belongings so that he wouldnít see. She needed time to think.

Sam wondered what he was feeling. Did he feel the same way about her or was she just someone to pass some time with? Her instincts told her that she meant more than that to him, but they were both too damn good at hiding their real feelings.

"I guess Iíll see you around." She could hear the forced casualness in his voice.

The abruptness of their parting chilled Sam and she blurted out, "Iíll call you."

He smiled, "Iíll look forward to it."

He opened the door and Sam knew she couldnít let him go so easily, he was an important part of her life now.

"Mickey, wait!"

She jumped out of the bed and without considering the open door or her nakedness, threw herself against him, wrapping her arms around his neck. He dropped his bag and folded his arms around her waist.

"It was wonderful to see you again." She kissed him long and hard. "And remember I promised to wear my new dress for your birthday."

He gave her a patent crooked grin, "How could I possibly forget?" He patted her bare behind, "Though, I think I like you dressed the way you are now best!"

 

Chapter 6 coming soon...