Chapter 1

"Is this table to your approval, sir?" the maître'd asked.

"Yes, fine, thank you." Adam sat down; he could never get used to having his chair pulled out for him.

Tonight was his last night in Baltimore and since he was still dressed in a well-tailored suit from his meeting that day with the railroad executives to seal the deal on Ponderosa timber for the line extension, he decided to treat himself to another fine meal in the best restaurant in the city. He had enjoyed a fine meal there the night before that was paid for by the line president, so he wanted to eat again but this time alone. Having people around and having to keep up his end of the conversations often drained him and he found himself mentally exhausted after a long business trip as this one had been and now, he just wanted to be alone to savor the filet mignon that he planned to order.

"Wine list, sir?" the maitre'd asked, the waiter hovering behind him.

"Just bring me a carafe of one of your best."

"Yes, sir." The maître'd turned to the waiter who nodded and then left. The maître'd told Adam to enjoy his meal and then with a small bow, left. He remembered Mr. Cartwright from the night before and hoped that he would spend money as the group he had been with the night before had done.

Adam sat back, relieved to be alone and then he saw her, the woman from the night before.

Adam and his group were having a pleasant enough time and one of the men, the procurement administrator was telling a story about how he was once tricked into purchasing sawdust instead of finished ties when Adam, from his vantage point of being able to see the whole room, saw a lovely woman being led to a table. Adam was immediately attracted to her as she seemed to have a way of moving that invited a man's attention. And she had his. He watched as she sat alone yet she didn't seem the least bit self-conscious. After a quarter of an hour a man appeared and took a seat at her table. What Adam noticed was that the woman didn't smile at him and the man didn't take her gloved hand or lean in to kiss her cheek before he sat. Adam was sure they weren't romantically involved but the man kept pulling out his handkerchief and wiping his brow. The woman even seemed to find him distasteful. Adam concurred that the man represented someone else as the woman had looked as if to see if anyone else was with him.

Adam's attention was drawn back into the conversation but as soon as his response wasn't needed, he resumed watching he couple at the other table. When the waiter came over, the woman ordered for herself—that being a breach of etiquette-while the man shook his head, no, as if he wanted nothing. Then the woman glanced over at Adam and an odd expression came over her face; her mouth opened slightly.

For a moment Adam was taken by surprise; she held his gaze and Adam became disturbed by the sensuality of her face, her full, red lips and her dark eyes—her high cheekbones that gave her a foreign look. That was it—she reminded him of a Cossack and she was probably as cold-blooded as they were reputed to be. She seemed to know what Adam thought of her. Adam nodded slightly in recognition of her glance and then she quickly looked away, raising her chin in disdain and turning her attention to the man. To Adam, the man seemed to be pleading, begging and once the woman laughed derisively and smiled as if enjoying the discomfiture of her companion. She repeatedly shook her head or said no to the man's pleadings and then he rose, red-faced and angry with her and stormed out of the restaurant.

The people at the tables around the beautiful woman turned to look and behaved as if they were embarrassed to be a witness to the man's anger and yet the woman seemed nonplussed and when the waiter brought her the ordered meal, she began to eat. Adam watched the elegantly way she handled the knife and fork but after a few bites, she called for the waiter who bowed and scraped to her and escorted her out of the restaurant. Adam was sorry to see her go but apparently, at least to him, it seemed that she was upset—very upset at whatever had passed between her and the man and she had tried to not reveal the depth of her agitation.

The dark-haired woman intrigued him and so far this trip, he hadn't met any interesting women except for some of the men's wives, not having the time to visit a brothel even though in the past he had spent many a pleasant hour in one. But Adam had to admit that he had enjoyed watching the mysterious female walk away; the swaying of her full hips in the tightly-swathed skirt of her dress seemed to gesture to him to follow, promising delights to come. And then, just before she would be completely gone from his view, the woman had glanced back at him and a small smile played on her lips. Adam held his breath, watching the duration of two heartbeats before she turned and was gone.

And here the woman was again, sitting in the same restaurant and alone. Tonight she was dressed to attract a man-Adam was sure of that, and if she intended the man to be him, she was successful.

Adam called the waiter over. "That beautiful lady in the green gown. Who is she?"

"That, sir, is Lady Stockbridge." The waiter hadn't even had to look to know about whom Adam was asking.

"Lady Stockbridge?"

"Yes, sir. She often dines here but usually she is escorted." The waiter cleared his throat. "Her escort is sometimes, um, often a prominent government or public figure."

"Send her a glass of wine—what I'm drinking-with my compliments." Adam grinned; his assessment about her had been correct.

"Very good, sir."

Adam watched while the waiter walked over and informed Lady Stockbridge of his offer. When the waiter pointed him out for Lady Stockbridge, Adam raised his glass as a toast to her but she didn't return his smile, just dismissed the waiter with a comment and a wave of her elegantly gloved hand. Adam noticed the ruby and diamond bracelet on her wrist over the glove; it glistened and sparkled in the light cast by the chandeliers.

The waiter came back quickly. "I am sorry, sir. The Lady declines; she says it is no better than dishwater—that it was a bad year for French wine—not cold enough that winter."

Adam laughed deeply and the people nearest him glanced over. Even Lady Stockbridge looked to him.

"Ask her what year she approves of—I'll buy her a whole bottle—a whole vineyard-if she'll deign to let me join her." Adam waited, grinning. He watched the waiter talk in an obsequious manner to the woman and then, Adam saw her almost imperceptibly nod and the waiter came back.

"The Lady says that she would be delighted to have you join her as she is dinning alone tonight. But, sir, she has chosen a very expensive wine."

"Bring it to the table," Adam said standing up. "Oh, and for your trouble." Adam handed the waiter two silver dollars. "Cupid himself couldn't have done better," he told the waiter as he headed for Lady Stockbridge's table. And Adam noticed that she steadily watched him, assessing him with each approaching step. Adam smiled to himself; this was going to be quite the adventure.

TBC