Rebel in Time

'Are you kidding? In St Louis if it's not a steak as big as a manhole cover, why then it's not a meal. I was almost a vegetarian by the time I got here six months ago. No, honestly, this has just been too much.'

'Good, you deserve it. What about dancing afterwards, work off some of the calories?'

'What about working them off at your place instead?'

She held his hand ever harder when she said this, then slowly licked her full red lips with the tip of her tongue. He responded to the excitement of the invitation. She was a sensual woman and there was an open promise in her words that he knew she would fulfil.

'Wicked girl,' he said and she smiled in return and nodded enthusiastically. 'But have an armagnac first while I finish my cigar. Anticipation is many times the better part of pleasure.'

She leaned her head against his shoulder when they drove away. He found some light music on the radio and she sang along with it. At his place he drove into the garage as they always did. He turned off the burglar alarm and unlocked the house door before he came around and opened the car door for her. She never noticed the sideways glance he gave to see if the matchstick was still in place.

'Drink?'

'Yes, please. Some more of that heavenly cognac, whatever you called it.'

'Armagnac. Which is brandy from Armagnac, just as cognac is brandy from Cognac. Only this is better.'

'I never argue with the experts.'

Marianne knew that she was a little bit tipsy — and she liked it that way. It made it easier to keep the mood going. Which mood was really an incredibly wonderful one. How long had she known Wes? Almost four months now. An occasional date, dinner, theatre sometimes, dancing, then to his place and to bed. Not that she really minded this very much. Except that she always had the feeling that this was all part of the package deal. No sex, no date. He had never said this in so many words, or even hinted at it. It was just a feeling that she had. A feeling she might have been very wrong about. Oh, how she hoped so.

And it was good tonight, better than ever. So natural and wonderful. They were on the couch and he had said something funny and she had laughed, then he had kissed her. And it was different, like the first time. Then, when he had let his hand slide gently onto her breasts she had actually gasped with pleasure. Even more so when he had cupped them to his mouth, his lips on her nipples.

It had happened then, on the couch, her clothes crumpled in all directions, like it was the first time happening all over again. Only later did he carry her, her warm naked body held close to his, up to the bedroom. Again, and still again. Sensations possessed her that she had never experienced before.

Then she screamed, he had hurt her, bit into her flesh, but he kissed and hushed her and she soon forgot it. He was just strong, too strong, but it was really all right.

For the first time ever she had actually dozed off after their passionate lovemaking. Everything was so different. She blinked her eyes awake as she felt him get out of bed and go into the bathroom. Marianne heard the sound of the shower running, like it always did after they had been in bed, but this time it lulled her to sleep again. She awoke suddenly with the bedside light in her eyes. He was standing over her, wearing his robe now, his hair still wet from the shower.

'More armagnac?'

'God, no. I have the strong feeling that it would simply destroy me.'

'Whatever you say. Gin and tonic like always?'

She nodded, watching him leave, her thoughts, emotions, wheeling around and around. The little routines were still the same. The shower to wash away the lovemaking, the drink, then the drive home. But tonight had been so different. She reached down for the robe he always left on the foot of the bed, but it wasn't there.

Had he forgotten — or were things really going to be different? She refused to let herself hope. It was the old joke, all the single girls streaming into Washington from all over the country. Work in the office, meet the boss, get acquainted with a handsome officer, romance, marriage, then back to Peoria or Macon — or even St Louis! — the envy of every girl who had stayed at home. But a joke, a dream that rarely worked out that way. Yet she still hummed as she kicked back the covers and went to the closet. You never knew, you just never knew. The air was cool; she liked the long woolly bathrobe of his that went right down to the ground. She pulled at it and it fell from the hanger and slipped to the floor. When she bent to pick it up she saw that it had fallen over a pair of saddlebags, the kind motorcyclists used. One of the bags was open and some papers were sticking out, blueprints, the identification clear on the corner.

She straightened and put the robe on and was back in bed when he returned to the room.

'Thanks,' she said when he handed over her drink. 'Yum, good.'