The Secret Cabin, Russia

Anna spotted Paul standing a few feet away from the entrance, gazing at the stars. It was foolish of them be outside, but it was a beautiful night and she did not have the heart to drag him back in after all the months he had spent locked in a jail cell. Instead, she held up a bottle of vodka and asked if she could join him.

He nodded at her sadly. "I guess I could use some of that, thank you," he said, taking a swig directly from the bottle. Anna glanced at his muscular hands, the sight of which she had come to know by heart, while he held up the bottle to his lips.

"I wish you could have been spared that," she said, meaning every word of it.

Paul shrugged. "Which part? The part where I was captured by the Russian mafia, or the part where I realized that Holly will never be mine?"

"All of it," Anna replied gently.

He turned to her and smiled for the first time. "I'm sorry for not sounding more grateful. I am, really."

He sighed and Anna waited for him to go on. "I should have known that she would have remarried. I should have told her how I felt the last night I saw her instead of waiting and writing that stupid letter."

He ran a hand through his hair and shook his head. "Then again, I guess it wouldn't have mattered one way or the other. The only man she ever really loved is Roger. She never stopped, not for one minute. I remember when we used to date, how she would get this faraway look from time to time. I knew then that she was thinking about him, and it drove me crazy, especially since I thought that he had abandoned her with a baby on the way!"

"I'm not sure about what happened between the first time that they split up, but I gathered that there was a big misunderstanding at some point. I can guarantee you that Roger never got over her either. He dated a lot of women, including me, during the years that they were apart, but he never gave his heart away again.

"You and Roger dated?"

"For a few months, but it never got very serious. You see, he would always put a distance between his lovers and him; he would never open up about his feelings. The only time that he did was during one of our nights on the town; we had had one too many and suddenly he started pouring his heart out about that Holly person, and he simply would not shut up about her. I even think that he bawled a little. Needless to say, it was over between us soon after that."

Paul took another swig before handing her back the bottle. "I can imagine. You know what's funny, though?"

"What?"

"As rotten as I feel right now, I'm glad that she at least got married to him, instead of some random man. Had it been any other, it would have been much harder for me to accept. It's much easier to concede defeat when you feel that fate stepped in."

"Because they were destined for each other?"

"Apparently, since they found each other again. In any case, for the first time since I fell in love with Holly, I finally feel a sense of finality about the whole thing. I won't be with her; it's really over."

He cleared his throat and stiffened his back. He could always cry later, he thought.

"So what are you going to do now?"

"I don't know. Go back to France, I guess, and become a monk, or hang myself."

"Paul!"

"Alright, alright! I was joking, about the hanging part anyway. All I know right now is that this unrequited love story has come to a close. Whether this will prove to be the end of my entire love life is too soon to tell."

"Do me a favor then and give this monk idea a rest. You'll never meet women in an abbey, I'm just saying."

Paul burst out laughing, and Anna's heart warmed at the sound of it.

"What about you, Anna? What will you do if we ever get out of this?"

"I'll go back to London and report."

He gazed at her and she could see admiration in his eyes. "I can't wrap my head around the fact that you're a secret agent! I thought that you were the perfect secretary."

"I AM the perfect secretary! Not to brag, but I could handle most jobs that you could throw at me. That's what I've been trained to do. I could be a welder if I had to pass as one, and a bloody good one at that."

"I bet you would, but I guess you'd rather continue chasing the bad guys."

Anna's smiled disappeared and she looked dejected. "I don't know about that. My cover was pretty much blown to pieces tonight. Maybe I won't be able to get back on the field after this."

"Oh. I hadn't thought about that. I guess I am the one to blame for ruining your career."

To her surprise, he looked genuinely chagrined. "Don't be silly; it was my decision to save you, and I am very comfortable with that choice. Besides, maybe it's time for me to move on."

"How do you mean?"

Anna took a sip of vodka before answering. "I mean settling down, buying a house and, who knows, maybe I could find a nice chap to share the costs with."

"And have tons of babies. I bet that would have your eyes."

I wish they would have your smile, she thought.

"You know," Paul added, "I am going to miss you when this is all over. You've been a true friend to me. I hope we can keep in touch."

"You better mean it, because you won't be able to get rid of me just yet. For starters, you'll have to come with me to London to testify. I can't force you, of course, but I think that you're as eager as I am to see Vasiliev and Alexandrov behind bars."

"I would gladly swallow the key to their cell."

"Great! Only after that will I let you go back to France and become a priest, or whatever silly plan you have in mind."

"Deal."

"Is it very painful?" Blake asked Jack as she finished putting a fresh bandage over his wound. She fluffed his pillow and told him to lie down.

"Yes, but I can still handle it. What's harder for me though is dealing with the feeling of helplessness. I'm not too good on depending on others," he retorted with a wink.

"It shows," Blake answered good-humouredly. "I'll leave you to rest now," she added, not wanting to intrude on his privacy any longer.

"No, stay! I mean, if you don't mind. I've been by myself a lot lately, and I could really use the company."

Blake was surprised by the eagerness of his entreaty, but she picked up an armchair resting against the wall and dragged it next to the bed.

"I don't mind. I just figured you out for a loner, with the ranch in Montana and all that."

Jack prompted himself on his good elbow and laughed. "I'm no John Wayne, if that's what you imagined. I just love horses a lot, that's all. I might end up selling the ranch nevertheless."

"Really? I thought it was some lifelong dream of yours to own one. At least that's what Roger told us."

"It was and it still is, but it's a lot of hard work. Not that I mind, but I sometimes I wish that I had someone to come back to at the end of the day."

"Don't you have places that you can go?"

"There a small town about an hour from the ranch, and that's about it. I have to go there a few times a week to run errands, but there nothing really exciting going on," Jack explained, conveniently leaving out the fact that he had slept with most of the attractive women the place had to offer, and that all that awaited him there now were recriminations and a furious husband or two. Trying to imagine Blake's reaction if he told her the whole truth, he suddenly felt ashamed of his behaviour.

"Anyway, as you can see, the ranch is pretty remote, and it can get lonely at times," he concluded.

"Why don't you sell this one and buy one closer to civilization, then?"

Jack grinned at her determined expression. "Ah, the energy of youth! You make it sound so easy! But you're right, I could do that. I'm actually thinking about it; we'll see."

Blake sat up straighter, a little ruffled by his last comment. "I'm not that young, you know. I'm 24."

"Hey, I didn't mean to offend you, quite the contrary! In fact, it looks like your life is in much better order than mine. Your father told me that you've landed this exciting job at What's its name Foundation – "

"Spaulding."

"Right, and when I met you at your parent's wedding, you were dating this young man, I forget his name, but a very dashing fellow, I'll admit."

A cloud passed over Blake's face and Jack suddenly feared that he had put his foot in it.

"Dylan and I have parted ways. It's hard to believe that it was only a few days ago; it feels like weeks already! A lot have happened since then," Blake said, twirling her finger in the air to indicate their surroundings.

"Well, I'm sorry to hear that. He seemed like a great guy, and you're much too young to be broken-hearted."

He playfully ducked his head under his arm, expecting her to yell at him for referring to her as "young" again, but she just rolled her eyes and shook her head.

"What makes you think that he dumped me? Sometimes the girl gets tired before the boy does, although you wouldn't know anything about that, from what I hear," she slammed.

Jack opened his eyes in surprise and raised his hands in apology. "I'm sorry; I shouldn't have assumed."

"I'll have you know that I've never been dumped in my life!"

"Okay, okay! You don't have to get worked up over this! I was just making conversation. Jeez!"

Blake grumbled some more before calming down, while Jack stared at her with an amused look in his eyes. She was a firecracker that one, just like her father, and probably a little like her mother too.

"You're right though; Dylan is a great guy. I just wished that I could have loved him as much as he deserved, but it's always the same problem with me. I always feel like there is something missing."

"I know what you mean," Jack replied, and he truly did. He could not recall ever having experienced that special feeling everyone kept yammering about. With the passing years, he had come to the conclusion that there must be something wrong his heart, something that made it impossible for him to fall in love.

As if she read his mind, Blake echoed his thoughts. "It's as if I have a missing part, you know? The little piece that will allow me to finally fall for someone."

Jack chuckled quietly; it was refreshing to discover that someone shared what he considered to be his biggest flaw, and who was not ashamed to voice it out loud.

"To the risk of angering you again, it might still happen for in love, I mean."

"Because I'm so very young, I know. You're not that ancient yourself, by the way."

"I'm 36, so it means that I'll be turning 40 in four years."

"I can count, thank you. It's not THAT old," Blake said evenly, but Jack could see in her eyes that she felt that it was very old indeed, and it rattled him. "You still look good for your age," she added, unable to resist teasing him in her turn about his age.

The truth was that Jack was probably one of the handsomest men Blake had ever laid eyes on, but she had never really dwelled on that fact, mainly because she was with Dylan when she had met him at her parents' wedding, and because she had pegged him for a womanizer. She toyed with the idea of flirting with him, just for the fun of it, and then chided herself. Her father would definitely frown upon the idea of her putting the moves on his best friend. Instead, she decided to return to the subject at hand.

"Sometimes I even wonder if love really exists," she said while undoing her ponytail. Her hair fell into soft coppery ripples on her shoulders. She quickly gathered it up again and tied it in a loose bun. "If it weren't for my parents, and I mean my two sets of parents, I would think the whole think is a fabrication."

She looked at Jack expectantly and he realized that it was his turn to talk. For the last seconds, he had been fascinated with the sight of her hair being done and undone, and was wondering what it would feel like to run his fingers through her locks. Probably like silk.

"Right, yes."

Blake stared at him before getting up. "You have no idea what I've just said, do you?"

"I do! You were talking about your parents, all four of them, and about how much they love each other," Jack said hurriedly.

Blake smiled. "Yeah, they do. Anyway, you look like you're getting tired; I'll leave you to rest."

"Thanks for the talk," he replied before putting his head back on his pillow and closing his eyes. He heard the door close and let out a loud sigh. What had just happened there? What was he thinking, lusting after his friend's daughter? He tried to shake the vision of her smiling face as she taunted him about his old bachelor ways. He WAS too old for her.

And yet.

There was something so refreshing about her. She was smart and self-confident, without being conceited. What's more, he knew that she liked nothing more than a challenge. He felt like a life by her side would be anything but dull. He groaned out loud at the idea of Roger accepting him as a potential son-in-law. "When hell freezes over," he told himself.

As if on cue, there was a knock on the door and Roger opened the door. Jack felt his cheeks burning and to hide his embarrassment, he pretended that Roger had just waked him up.

"Roger! I thought you were sleeping already."

"No, I felt too restless to go to bed just yet, so I stayed in the living room for a while. I'm sorry to wake you; Blake told me not to come in, but I just wanted to check up on you."

"I'm fine. Now, why don't you tell me the real reason why you're not cuddling your wife as we speak?"

Roger pursed his lips and collapsed in the armchair that had been occupied by his daughter moments ago. Jack briefly wondered if she was asleep on the couch already, and whether or not she was comfortable.

"You owe me, buddy! Because of you, my wife won't speak to me," Roger said, rubbing his face. He was exhausted, yet he couldn't face the thought of spending the night next to Holly if she was to be keeping up her ice queen act.

"Right, how convenient to pin everything on good old Jack!"

"If you would have stayed put instead of running to Paul's rescue, then I wouldn't have had to leave her in the middle of our honeymoon to save you. She's really bummed about that, you know."

"She's mad because you left her alone, or she's mad because you put your life in danger?"

Roger cocked his head pensively. "The latter, I guess."

"And can you blame her?"

"Not really."

Jack rolled on his side and closed his eyes. "Why don't you just go and talk to her about it?" he muttered. "I'm sure that she's come to thaw toward you since you came back to her safe and sound."

"Well, there might be something else," Roger explained, determined to air out all of his marital problems with his friend. Jack sighed and opened his eyes.

"What is it?"

"I really gave her grief about wanting to rescue Paul at first. I couldn't understand why she cared so much."

"You mean you were jealous?"

Roger shrugged impatiently, annoyed that his friend could read him so well. "Wouldn't you be? He still loves her, you know."

"Yes, I did pick up on that earlier, but as long as she doesn't love him, then I don't see what the problem is."

"She slept with him and she didn't tell me about it!"

Jack sat upright and opened his eyes wide in surprise. "God! Really? I'm sorry, man. When was this?"

Roger suddenly felt ridiculous and wished that he had not brought up the subject. "Ten years ago," he finally mumbled.

Jack's expression remained frozen for a few seconds, and then he gave his friend a nasty look. "You mean that you won't let me sleep because your wife slept with a man a decade ago and didn't tell you about it? What else did she not tell you? That fifteen years ago, she had eggs benedict for breakfast? Sometimes, you're just too much."

Roger stared at Jack and the latter could practically see ruffled feathers grow on his back. "Well, she could have mentioned it when his name came up, or say, when you, my best friend, decided to risk your life for him."

"It wouldn't have made any difference to me. And it shouldn't to you either. Tell me, how many women have you slept with in your life, Roger?"

Roger had the decency to feel embarrassed; it would have been a difficult task to make an inventory.

"That's right; we're talking high numbers here. I was around after Peggy divorced you, remember?"

"What's your point?" Roger asked curtly.

"My point is that I'm fairly certain that you didn't tell Holly about all these women."

"She knows that there has been a few."

"But she doesn't know the details, and I'm sure that she doesn't want to, because it's not relevant to your relationship."

Roger grunted but let the words sink in. Holly had told him the same thing before they had parted ways in Helsinki. Yet he was aggravated that none of them seemed to sympathize with him. Surely he could not be completely in the wrong?

"I'll grant you that, but then explain to me why she was mad when she discovered that Anna and I have been lovers," he asked triumphantly.

Jack thought about it for a few minutes. He didn't know Holly very well yet, but he knew from the moments they had passed together that she was a sensible woman, and he felt inclined to give her the benefit of the doubt.

"Is it possible that she was mad at you because you had done the exact thing that you were reproaching her of having done? Hiding a past relationship, I mean?"

Roger's face fell. "Is it too much to ask for you to be on my side?" he said, getting up.

Jack couldn't help but laugh at his expression. "Come on, Roger! I am on your side, and I know that the best thing for you is to talk things out with Holly as soon as possible. It's not a question of being right or wrong; married people fight all the time, that's just the way it is."

"If you want me out of your hair, you can just say so."

"I want you out of my hair."

Roger made a face and opened the door. "Fine, I'll go. Goodnight anyway,"

"Goodnight, and Roger?"

"Yes?"

"It was nice talking to you again." The two men looked at each other and grinned, and then Roger left Jack to sleep.

Seconds later, he closed the door of the room where Holly and he were to sleep and realized that she had been waiting for him. They looked at each other awkwardly, unsure of how to act toward one another. Aside from the bed and a couple of wooden chairs, the only other furniture in the room consisted of a rug, a lamp and a scratched dresser. Roger walked up to it and started to unbutton his shirt, while vainly trying to think of a good opening for his apology.

"Are you still dizzy?" he finally asked instead.

"A little, but I'm much better now. I don't know what Anna gave me, but it was effective."

"Good. I guess we should get some sleep," Roger said, clearing his throat. More than ever, he felt the invisible wall that was now between them, and it made him oddly self-conscious. He was even thankful for the fact that the lamp only gave out the faintest of lights, making the room shadowy and dark. Trying to shake off his nervousness, he took off his shoes and pants, which he put on top of the dresser with his shirt. After all, he reflected, Holly was his wife, and intimacy had never been a problem for them, at least until now. They had to find their way toward one another.

He turned around, now in his boxers, and jumped as he bumped into Holly, who had been silently undressing as well behind him. They both stood facing each other in their underwear, contemplating each other. Holly was the first one to break the silence.

"I know that I've been a little cold toward you lately, but I've missed you," she said, running her fingers on his chest timidly.

Somehow, this was all the invitation Roger needed. He took hold of her and kissed her softly. They toppled on the bed, only to spring back up again, startled by the awful squeaking sound coming from the mattress.

"What is this?" Holly said, panting half from shock and half from desire.

"Broken springs, I would say," Roger replied, equally out of breath. "I guess that settles our fate for tonight," he added forlornly, now that he knew that they would be forced to spend a platonic night.

Holly came up behind him and pressed her body against his, only adding to his regrets. "If we're very careful, we won't wake them."

"Holly, you heard the bed; it's going to take them about two seconds to figure out what we're doing," Roger said, trying to be reasonable.

Holly grasped his shoulders and spun him around. "I can't wait anymore, Roger, and I don't want to. We've been apart to long already."

"But what about-?"

She put a finger on his lips to silence him. "It doesn't matter," she simply said.

The words floated between them before sinking into Roger's heart. It didn't matter if Paul was in the other room or hundreds of miles away. None of their past affairs mattered. All she wanted was to be with him, her husband. Meanwhile, Holly looked around and spotted one of the wooden armchairs that had been pushed against the wall. She led Roger to it and made him sit before she kneeled in front of him, ordering him to be quiet.

She kissed him on the lips before making her way down his chest, leaving a trail of kisses. Motioning him to lift his hips, she swiftly slid his boxers down his legs and tossed them aside, knowing she would find him hard for her already. Unable to wait any longer, she slid her tongue up his shaft while he inhaled sharply, grasping both arms of his chair so hard that his knuckles turned white. Then she took him in her mouth, her tongue twirling slowly around his cock, and grabbed it firmly with one hand, while with the other she cupped his balls, just strongly enough to make him moan with pleasure.

Never in his life had Roger wanted to shout his wife's name more than he did in that moment.

Exerting his last remains of self-control, however, he kept silent, and for the next few minutes, all that could be heard in the room was his ragged and erratic breathing. Holly gradually increased her rhythm, feeling her own arousal mounting inexorably. Before she knew it, one of her hands, as if with a mind of its own, sled down her own body and inside her panties. She vaguely wondered if the effects of the ecstasy had not totally worn off after all. Opening his eyes, Roger discovered his wife getting herself off while giving him head, and the picture made him want to explode right there and then.

"Holly, I'm near…" he murmured urgently, his words morphing into an almost painful groan as he caressed her head, but Holly only acknowledged him by increasing her pressure.

"Holly!" he repeated, now half-pleading and half-warning, while his hands plunged down her curls and clutched at them hard. He then realized that this was one of those times when she would not pull away until he was done and after a few more seconds, he leaned back into his chair and climaxed violently.

"Oh, God," he called out in a low voice a few minutes after, feeling as if he was coming to. He looked down at her and saw that she was smiling at him. She was about to get up when he rested his hands on her shoulders and kneeled down beside her.

"Wait a minute, I'm not done with you," he said, pushing her hair away from her face. He put an arm around her slender waist and pulled her close so that she could lean into him, then wedged a knee between her thighs, forcing them apart.

He slipped his other hand over her stomach and reached for her panties, which he slowly started to slide down her legs. "Rip them out," he heard her murmur against his neck. He took hold of the hem and gave a hard pull, feeling the lace tear between his fingers. He then began to lightly caress the small of her back and her inner thighs, his fingers never stopping on her skin for more than a few seconds. She waited; she was willing to let her desire slowly rise up again, knowing that his touch would be that much sweeter when it would come.

He finally reached between her legs, and found her slippery from desire. Her hips started to move rhythmically as soon as he slid a finger inside of her and found her clit with his thumb. "Oh, Roger, yes!" she said, throwing her head back, answering the question he did not even need to ask. Yes, she wanted it, and yes, he was doing it so right.

"Take off your bra," he commanded, feeling himself grow hard again and aching for her to be completely naked. She removed it with trembling hands and threw it aside, exposing her breasts. Bending over her, he took one of her nipples into his mouth, his tongue mirroring the movement of his thumb and leading Holly into a state of frenzy that only he could relieve her from. As his eyes met hers, almost delirious with lust, Roger was tempted for a second to lay her on the floor and to take her, but he knew from the way she dug her fingernails into his skin that she was too close to orgasm from him to stop. Closing his eyes, he increased the pressure of his fingers until he felt her whole body starting to shake uncontrollably, a fine layer of sweat covering her skin. He went on relentlessly, whispering words of love in her ears, to which by then she could only answer incoherently. Then after one last flick, one hungry bite on the shoulder, she collapsed in his arms with a shiver and a strangled cry.

They rested against each other for a few seconds; Holly's head nestled against Roger's shoulder.

"I've wanted to do something like this since I walked out of that hotel room," Roger said, running his lips over her neck. "I'm sorry that we fought, Holly."

"Me too." There was so many things that she wanted to say to him, about how much she had been scared of losing him, and how proud she was that he had rescued Jack and Paul, that she barely knew where to begin. Instead, she hugged him tightly, pressing her entire body against his. It was only then that she realized how aroused he still was, so when Roger motioned her to get into bed, she lay down on the floor and gazed at him expectantly instead. She wanted him that night like she never had before, and her invitation could not have been clearer.

Roger joined her on the floor and entered her in one swift motion, finding her still wet from her recent orgasm. He started to move slowly in and out of her, following the rhythmic pressure of her legs wrapped against his back. Holly closed her eyes and gave into the sensation, lips parted and hair spilled on the floor like liquid fire. Thrusting deeper and deeper into her, Roger gradually became overwhelmed with a need, like he had never experienced before, to reach her very core. As if sensing his urge, Holly snapped her eyes open and took in the vision of his features twisted in a desire that was almost painful, and which echoed her own. She pulled him to her and began whispering in his ears, spurring him on, each of her sentences punctuated by a thrust of her hips:

"I love you, Roger…and I want you to have all of me…and… oh, God!"

Roger silenced her with a kiss and a guttural groan; he grabbed the foot of the bed for a better grip and started to pump fiercely into her. Holly pressed herself against him, two tears of joy escaping her eyes. It did not take long for her upper body to jerk upward and her sex to clench convulsively around his, sending them both over the edge.

They lay one on top of the other, their limbs intertwined, until they regained their breath. "I think Russia agrees with our sex life," Holly finally said, a smile playing on the corner of her lips. Roger nodded and smiled in return.

"Come to bed now," he said, picking her up and carrying her to the bed, which welcomed them with another ear-splitting squeak, and where they immediately fell asleep. They knew that words would come later, but for now, the wall that had been standing between them only moments ago now lay in ruins on the ground, conquered.