"I've noticed that, yes. Do you mind?"
"Of course not." He drew away a few inches so he could look at her face. "It's been a very long time since I've felt this way, Catherine. And to think I had to come all the way to London to find you."
"I'm glad you did."
"Can I make a confession?"
"Of course you can."
"I didn't get much sleep after you left last night."
She smiled and drew him near, so her mouth was next to his ear. "I'll make a confession too. I didn't sleep at all."
"What were you thinking about?"
"You tell me first."
"I was thinking how much I wished you hadn't left."
"I was having very similar thoughts."
"I was thinking about kissing you."
"I think I was kissing you."
"I don't want you to leave tonight."
"I think you would have to throw me out bodily if you wanted me to leave."
"I don't think you need to worry about that."
"I think I'd like you to kiss me again right now, Peter."
"What about all these people staring at us? What do you think they'll do if I kiss you?"
"I'm not sure. But it's 1944 in London. Anything can happen."
"Compliments of the gentleman at the bar," the waiter said, opening a bottle of champagne as they came back to the table.
"Does the gentleman have a name?" Jordan asked.
"None that he gave, sir."
"What did he look like?"
"Rather like a sunburned rugby player, sir."
"American naval officer?"
"Yes, sir."
"Shepherd Ramsey."
"The gentleman wishes to join you for a glass."
"Tell the gentleman thank you for the champagne, but forget it."
"Of course, sir."
"Who's Shepherd Ramsey?" Catherine asked when the waiter left.
"Shepherd Ramsey is my oldest and dearest friend in the world. I love him like a brother."
"So why don't you let him come over for a drink?"
"Because for once in my adult life I'd like to do something without him. Besides, I don't want to share you."
"Good, because I don't want to share you either." Catherine raised her champagne glass. "To the absence of Shepherd."
Jordan laughed. "To the absence of Shepherd."
They touched glasses.
Catherine added, "And to the blackout, without which I would never have bumped into you."
"To the blackout." Jordan hesitated. "I know this probably sounds like a terrible cliche, but I can't take my eyes off of you."
Catherine smiled and leaned across the table.
"I don't want you to take your eyes off me, Peter. Why do you think I wore this dress?"
"I'm a little nervous."
"I am too, Peter."
"You look so beautiful, lying there in the moonlight."
"You look beautiful too."
"Don't. My wife--"
"I'm sorry. It's just that I've never seen a man who looked quite like you. Try not to think about your wife for just a few minutes."
"It's very hard, but you're making it a little easier."
"You look like a statue, kneeling there like that."
"A very old, crumbling statue."
"A beautiful statue."
"I can't stop touching you--touching them. They're so beautiful. I've been dreaming of touching them like this since the first moment I saw you."
"You can touch them harder. It won't hurt."
"Like this?"
"Oh, God! Yes, Peter, just like that. But I want to touch you too."
"That feels so nice when you do that."
"It does?"
"Ahh, yes, it does."
"It's so hard. It feels wonderful. There's something else I want to do to it."
"What?"
"I can't say it out loud. Just come closer."
"Catherine--"
"Just do it, darling. I promise you won't regret it."
"Oh, my God, that feels so incredible."
"Then I shouldn't stop?"
"You look so beautiful doing that."
"I want to make you feel good."
"I want to make you feel good."
"I can show you how."
"I think I know how."
"Ahh, Peter, your tongue feels so wonderful. Oh, please, touch my breasts while you do that."
"I want to be inside you."
"Hurry, Peter."
"Ohh, you're so soft, so wonderful. Oh, God, Catherine, I'm going to--"
"Wait! Not yet, darling. Do me a favor and lie down on your back. Let me do the rest."
He did as she asked. She took him in her hand and guided him inside her body. She could have just lain there and let him finish but she wanted it this way. She always knew Vogel would do this to her. Why else would he want a female agent except to seduce Allied officers and steal their secrets? She always thought the man would be fat and hairy and old and ugly, not like Peter. If she was going to be Kurt Vogel's whore, she might as well enjoy it. Oh, God, Catherine, you shouldn't be doing this. You shouldn't be losing control like this. But she couldn't help it. She was enjoying it. And she was losing control. Her head rolled back and her hands went to her breasts and she stroked her nipples with her fingers and after a moment she felt his warm release within her and it washed over her in wave after wonderful wave.