CHAPTER ONE

A soft, warm breeze ruffled a lock of blond hair on the forehead of a very contented Illya Kuryakin. A gentle hand delicately brushed it back, and a soft voice whispered in his ear:

"You look like the proverbial cat that swallowed the canary!"

The Russian turned his head to look into the astounding green eyes of Stephanie, his very attractive partner, whom he met 4 months before and who was now recovering from a very serious explosion that hurt her very badly during one of her missions as an active UNCLE agent.

Kuryakin had taken her on a much deserved long vacation, hoping not only to remove her from danger – at least momentarily – but also to have a chance to discuss his feelings, which were growing at an alarming rate and demanded some action from him. He soon discovered that they were reciprocated, and that discovery led to many passionate nights for the couple in their luxurious hotel, on a small Caribbean island.

He spoke in soft tones: "I was thinking that this vacation looks a lot like a honeymoon."

She flashed a dimpled smile at him: "Does that upset you?"

"On the contrary: I am thoroughly enjoying it!"

"Probably because it's not a real honeymoon…"

The Russian did not respond to her teasing comment, thinking that maybe, just maybe…

His thoughts were interrupted by an annoying beep coming from Stephanie's wristwatch. They moaned in unison: "Oh, no!"

When she opened the contact, Sir John Raleigh's voice came out of the communication device concealed in the ordinary-looking watch.

"Good morning, Miss Rogers! I trust you are enjoying your vacation?"

The woman thought 'I was', but aloud she said: "Yes, Sir John, quite so."

Meanwhile, Kuryakin was mumbling: "I really don't think he's calling you to ask about your vacation. He's calling to put an end to it."

Stephanie shushed him with a glare, and listened to her boss, who said in his imperturbable British accent: "I heard you, Mr. Kuryakin! Alas, you're right, but only in part. Miss Rogers, I called to ask you to make a very brief break from your holiday and carry out a small task for the agency. You won't even need to leave the island."

"Certainly, sir. What do you need me to do?" The Russian rolled his eyes at the woman's subdued tone.

"I need you to pick up a parcel from one of our deliverymen."

"And what I am to do with the parcel?"

"You can throw it in the garbage bin."

Stephanie and Illya looked at each other with a questioning gaze. "Pardon?"

Sir John's calm voice explained: " You see, it's just a test for the deliveryman. We need to make sure of his loyalty to the agency. He will be lured into selling the package to the competition by an alleged enemy agent; if he doesn't and delivers the package to you, then we will know we can entrust him with real deliveries."

The woman asked: "How will I know it's the original package?"

"Very good question, Stephanie! I'm glad your vacation isn't clouding your judgment. The original package will have a concealed device emitting a signal that your watch should be able to pick up. Be ready to be contacted by our man tomorrow morning."

The connection was cut off. Stephanie mumbled: "And a good day to you, sir!"

The Russian dryly commented: "He's not a very talkative man, your boss. And you certainly did not bite his head off for interrupting your vacation, did you?"

The woman just looked at him with a barely disguised smile, and asked: "Would you have bitten Mr. Waverly's head off for asking you a small favor?"

Affectionately thinking back at the utmost respect he felt for the late lamented UNCLE chief, Kuryakin had to admit that he would have reacted the same exact way.

Reaching from his deckchair, he snuggled in Stephanie's neck, softly whispering: "Well, we have until tomorrow morning. What do you say we stop talking about our mutual bosses and start discussing about what you want to do tonight?"

She smiled seductively at the handsome blond. "You know very well what I want to do, Mr. Kuryakin!"

He started planting featherlike kisses on her collarbone. "If it's the same plan I have in mind, then I'm in!"

When their lips met, he thought that he could never have enough of her kisses, which always sent his mind reeling. That funny feeling kept surfacing in his mind; maybe, just maybe…