By request, a sequel to Damsel in the Dress. As usual, only Yvette is mine, all others I'm borrowing. Thanks to purdys pal for giving me some ideas for this story!

11/26/2011 - Like Damsel in the Dress, I did some editing on this story.

Damsel in the Dress...Again

By WritePassion

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Yvette struck the match, watched the flame flare up a moment, and touched it to the two wicks. The candles spread their warm glow around the small table, and she smiled at the coziness of the whole scene. She set out her best china, some elegant pieces she found in a thrift store. Their bright white surfaces turned a honey gold in the light, and the silverware sparkled. Everything was perfect. The scent of beef Wellington wafted from the tiny kitchen. It was almost ready. Now all that she needed was for her guest to arrive.

Right on time, she heard a knock on the door. She rushed to answer it, but tried to keep her heart from racing. After spending the past few weeks getting on her feet, finding a job and a place to live, she finally had the means to properly entertain, and she looked forward to it eagerly. How many times she longed to repay the man behind the door for his kindness to her! Now she had the chance.

"Hi," Yvette breathed as she opened the door and beamed at her guest, her eyes only on him.

"Hi, Yvette." He grinned. "I brought you a little something."

"Oh, how thoughtful of you, Sam! Come in!" She stepped aside as she took the bottle of wine from him, and when he passed into the apartment, she couldn't help but slowly peruse him from head to toe. He was dressed in a nice suit, which was so unlike him. The dark gray was offset by a soft peach shirt that only Sam Axe could rock. She was impressed that he bothered, when the invitation was for just a casual dinner. Who was she kidding? She dressed up for the occasion in a light green wraparound dress that showed off every curve. Her matching pumps propelled her into the dining area behind Sam and his polished black shoes.

Sam whistled at the presentation and the low lighting. "Wow, you really outdid yourself, Yvette."

"Thanks. I...I wanted to properly thank you for saving my life." She fiddled with the neck of the bottle, her thumbnail picking at the label. The dangerous second guessing herself began to take root. She could see that he thought there was more to this, and while a girl could wish, she was afraid to be too bold and scare him off. "Um...why don't I chill this, and you can have a seat, relax, and dinner will be ready soon." She escaped to the kitchen to distract herself with preparations.

"You fixed the place up real nice," Sam remarked as he casually poked around the living area.

Her voice carried through the open space between the kitchen and dining room. "Thanks to all of Maddie's castoffs, and her generosity, the place feels like home."

The balcony sliding door was open, letting in a balmy breeze., and soft traffic sounds accompanied by the beat of salsa music from somewhere down the street filtered inside. Sam stood in the doorway and watched the last of the sunset paint the east a dark mauve. "You've got a great ocean view here."

"Yes, I like it a lot. It's not cheap, but I can manage it on my salary." She brought the wine into the dining area encased in a chilling bucket, then ducked into the kitchen for a few minutes. She returned with two plates and set one at each of the settings. "We can start with the salad. The Wellington is nearly ready."

"Sounds great."

Before Yvette could pull out her chair, Sam was there to take it for her. She wasn't expecting that. With a nod of appreciation, she allowed him to seat her while her esteem for him inched up a notch. As she would soon see, the man who usually wore loud Hawaiian shirts, loose khakis and casual shoes could embrace the finer things and act as refined as many of the high class men she was exposed to during her employ with the late Ms. Romana Roche. It reminded her of those happy times with her friend. She sorely missed her and still held out the faintest of hopes that she would be found alive one day. Yvette pushed those thoughts to the back of her mind and caught Sam up on her life since he pulled her half-drowned from the sea.

"I really like working for Mia," Yvette said with a warm smile. "And I think she's really happy with me. She always says I treat the ladies like royalty, helping them pick out dresses and paying attention to every detail as they transform themselves in her designs. I'm simply doing what I did for Romana." She looked up from her half eaten salad and locked eyes with Sam. "I knew she needed that boost to her self-esteem. Mr. Roche treated her like dirt..." She blinked the tears that threatened to spill out and ruin her mascara. "Sometimes it killed me inside to see her so sad."

"It sounds like you were a really good friend to her. Not just an employee."

"I tried. I just wish I knew where she was now." Yvette shook her head. "If...if by some miracle she's still alive, I wish she could come here and move in with me, and then she could live the kind of life I have now. Free...and happy."

Sam didn't want to burst her bubble, so he steered the conversation away from Romana. "I heard from Mike today. He's almost done with his mission for the CIA, just doing the debriefing shuffle." He smiled at her. "While he was down south, he did some digging and found out about a little raiding party headed by Freddie Roche."

Yvette's fork hung half way to her mouth, and she dropped it onto her plate. "Really? Was he able to stop it?"

"It's not going down until next week, and we're gonna be there to stop him." Sam shook his head. "What really baffles me is why Roche is getting involved this time. He usually lets his flunkies do the work for him. Maybe stealing five million in diamonds is a conquest he wanted to head up himself and get the glory." His gaze bored into hers. "I know you've been worried about him coming after you, but he's got bigger things to worry about now. There's no way he's coming back here unless he gets extradited for something in the States." For Romana's murder, he thought to himself.

Yvette let out a deep breath and visibly relaxed against the seat back. "Sam, that's the best news I've heard all day!"

"I knew you'd be happy to hear it." His smile widened.

A beep sounded from the kitchen, and Yvette stood. "Excuse me a moment. That would be the entree. Are you finished with your salad?" He nodded, she took his plate and hers, and retreated to the kitchen.

A few minutes later, she returned with plates of the beef Wellington, creamy scalloped potatoes and steamed broccoli. They talked of inconsequential things as they ate, getting to know one another better. As Sam spoke with a slightly reluctant tone about his past, dancing around the issue of other women, Yvette sensed that he was trying to prove himself to her, but she didn't know why. He was her hero, and as he became more and more human in her eyes, the attraction she felt towards him grew. She'd been around perfection and wealth for so long, real people with real flaws caused her to gravitate towards them. Sam drew her in more than any other.

At the end of the evening, she hated to see him go, but they both had work and responsibilities the next day. She escorted him to the door and held onto the doorknob, reluctant to let him leave.

"I had a great time tonight, Yvette. Dinner was fantastic. Thank you." He took a step closer, and she did her best to keep her breath even.

"Thank you, Sam, for everything you've done. You're my knight in shining armor." She smiled as the distance slowly closed between them. Her lips parted slightly, anticipating what she hoped would come next.

At the last second, his head tilted and he passed the mark, his lips pressing against her cheek in an all-too-brief, chaste kiss. He spoke softly. "I'll keep you up to date on our investigation."

"Th-thank you." Keeping the disappointment out of her voice took a herculean effort. "Good night, Sam. It was a pleasure having you here."

"It was a pleasure being here," he replied, flashing his dashing grin. "Night, Yvette."

Then he was out the door and it created a barrier between them.

"Lock up after me, okay?"

She heard his admonishment through it. "I will. Thank you, Sam." Her hands fumbled with the deadbolt and locked it, and she pressed her ear against the door to hear his footfalls retreat down the hall. When she couldn't hear them anymore, she whispered, "You are so daft, Yvette! What made you think he would ever be attracted to you?" She let out a little growl of frustration, turned from the door, and gave the messy kitchen a disdainful glance as she passed. It could wait until tomorrow.