Mary POV

"Oh my God, I'm one of those women, aren't I?"

"One of what women?"

"You know, one of those with a big sappy smile on my face, and thinking that all is right with the world because I'm all in love, and every unattached person I see, I suddenly want to fix them up so that they can be just as deliriously happy as I am…bleh, I can hardly stand myself."

John laughed as he unlocked the door to his penthouse suite.

"What's so damn funny?" I said as I followed him inside.

"You," he answered.

He grabbed me as he kicked the door closed behind us and he kissed me hard, backing me into the wall.

"You know what I want?" he asked after several, arousal-inspiring minutes.

"I'm hoping it involves getting me out of my clothes and a re-creation of something from chapter nine of Kama Sutra."

He laughed again and looked at me questioningly.

"Chapter nine?"

"Yeah, it's…oh, never mind. I can show you better than I can tell you."

"I'm just wondering when you read Kama Sutra."

"I was a curious kid," I said as I tugged on his suit jacket. "And my mom was always too sloshed to tell me anything about sex other than a man will say anything to get into your pants, honey."

"So you read that?" he asked, still smiling.

"Among other things."

"Good to know. I might have to pick up a copy."

"No need. I've got it in one of those unpacked boxes at my place."

"I'd say we need to finish unpacking then."

"Definitely. But first, I think I interrupted you," I said as I successfully rid him of his tie and dress shirt, and then I pulled his t-shirt over his head before running my hands across his chest and then delving lower to tackle the belt buckle.

"I like your idea better. For the moment, anyway."

He started kissing me again and my hands faltered as I struggled to undo his belt, because damn, the man knows how to kiss.

I finally gave up altogether and dropped my hands, leaning my head back against the wall as he continued his vigorous and pleasurable assault on me.

I got so caught up in it, I'm not even sure when he managed to get my blouse off of me.

Or my pants.

But suddenly, I was down to next to nothing, and he was still in his slacks, so I forced my lethargic hands into motion and remedied the problem.

"So show me," he whispered as he slid his hands behind me to unhook my bra while his lips worked over my neck.

"I think at this point, I'm showing you everything I've got."

He chuckled and moved his lips up to my ear, taking the lobe between his teeth in a way that just drives me crazy.

In a good way, I mean.

"Chapter nine," he murmured.

Oh.

Believe it or not, I'd actually forgotten.

I was having such a good time right here up against the wall.

But I'd apparently piqued his curiosity now, and who am I to argue with his inquisitive nature?

"Okay, but keep in mind I'm going strictly from memory. I might not get it exactly right."

"I'm pretty sure that won't matter."

It didn't.

And for the record, I think I did get it right.

Chapter six, too.

We were both sweaty and exhausted but completely satiated by the time we finished, as we lay sprawled sideways across the massive bed.

"Tomorrow, I'm going to find that book," he said.

"I'm going to have to stretch out first next time."

"You did just fine," he said.

He trailed his fingers along my back in a soothing pattern that was surely going to put me to sleep. I should probably shower first, but I wasn't enthusiastic enough about that thought to make it a reality.

Not when he was still making me feel good.

Talking, touching, making love…the man just always knows exactly what I need.

And it was nice to be back here, in his suite.

We hadn't stayed here in a while, and of course we were at Mike's last night due to safety precautions.

But I felt okay about coming here tonight.

Despite Alex's suggestion that maybe the Millennium wasn't safe, I had to disagree.

There are security cameras everywhere, and a special key is required to get to the top floor, and aside from that, John had, at some point during the day, hired a bodyguard who made a sweep of the entire floor when we arrived while John and I waited in the lobby, and then the guard had escorted us up in the elevator, and he was currently parked in a chair at the end of the hall that leads to the suite.

The most dangerous thing we did was swing by my apartment on our way here.

Our guy in question obviously knows my name, so it probably wouldn't be hard for him to find where I live. Not like Bobby and Alex, or Lupo and Bernard. I'm pretty sure he doesn't know their names, or he would've used them to impress me.

But so we went to the apartment and Lauren and Bernard were with us.

I made a quick trip through, just grabbing enough clean clothes to get me through the week, and then we waited while Lauren did the same because she and Bernard were going to his place.

Not that we thought she was high up on the hit list, but if they know my building, and they'd put eyes on the place at all, then it was possible that they'd seen her, too, so it just made sense.

In fact, I wish I'd considered that last night, but I didn't, and nothing happened, so I couldn't afford to beat myself up over it.

I just had to be smarter in the future.

About everything.

Because last night, I'd only instructed everyone to be vigilant.

But today, I'd changed my directive.

Maybe because after day two we still had too many loose ends that didn't add up, and my conversation with Christina hadn't shed light on things like I might have hoped.

It was the first time we'd really talked, because aside from the car ride from the marshals' office to the air strip on Long Island, I hadn't spent any time with her.

Her indoctrination process had been handled by my team.

Or more specifically, largely by Anna Holly.

Christina was quiet and sullen while we were in the car.

We drove around for a while, with Bobby and Alex behind us, until they gave us the all-clear and headed back to 1PP.

At that point, McInnis turned the car towards New Rochelle.

The Secret Service has a house there that they use from time to time, and when need dictates, we borrow it. They have agents who man the security of the home, so it frees up our marshals to track the threat rather than babysit.

We try not to wear out our welcome in these kinds of situations, but without a doubt, this time it was a necessity.

We got to the house and I went through the security process with the intake agent, and then we moved Christina into the home.

"Give us a minute," I said to McInnis.

Because I was livid about the text I'd received earlier, the one stating that Christina had a prepaid cell.

McInnis raised his eyebrow at me, clearly knowing my level of anger but not familiar enough with me to know what I was going to do about it.

I had to appreciate his concern, and so I made the decision to let him hang around.

Either he'd like my approach or he wouldn't, but maybe it was better to find that out now.

"Or not," I told him agreeably. "I was going to do this in private, but you know what, Christina? You've been dicking around with us since you got into the program, and considering you haven't shown us any respect, then I'm not going to give you any either. Now give me the damn phone."

"What phone?"

I stared at her hard, but she barely flinched.

"Okay, let's get something straight. I know you don't know me yet, so I'll give you some time to get up to speed."

I paused for a second, and then said, "Are we good?"

"Good?"

"Yeah, good. You know…I mean, the learning curve is over. Here's the way it works. You get one screw up with me and you just used it, so the next time you lie to me, you won't have to worry about the Albanians killing you because I'll do it myself. Understood?"

"Um…yeah."

"Good. So what's it going to be?" I asked as I pulled my gun from its holster.

And okay, so maybe that was a little over the top, but whatever.

I mean, it's not like I actually pointed it at her or anything.

Instead I just popped out the magazine and looked at it briefly before slamming it back into place, creating a nice, gratifying sound, and then I asked, "Are you going to give me the phone?"

Two seconds later, I had the contraband in my hand.

"Why would you do something that'll get you kicked out of the program?" McInnis asked her.

"I needed to be in touch with him."

"With him," I repeated. "Derek?"

"Yes."

"And Anna?"

She hesitated, but then eyeballed the gun still in my hand and nodded her head.

"You know she's dead, right?" McInnis said, and it belatedly occurred to me how all of this was effecting him.

She was his partner.

And true, according to the files I'd read on my team, the two of them had only worked together for a short amount of time, but still…it doesn't usually take very long for that protective bond to form.

"Anna?" Christina asked in surprise.

"And Derek," I said. She paled visibly, and I added, "What's wrong? Did you think they were just ducking your calls?"

"I didn't…I wasn't…"

And then she did something completely unexpected.

She threw up.

And I've got to say it…if she'd gotten it on my shoes, I might've used my gun on her.

She did get it on McInnis' shoes though and he looked at me with a mixed expression of surprise and disgust as Christina ran for the bathroom.

"That did not just happen," he grumbled as he pulled out his handkerchief and started swiping at his shoes.

"You think she can do that kind of thing on command?" I mused as I looked towards the bathroom where she was still retching.

"It's in her file," he said. "She gets migraines."

"That one came on pretty fast."

McInnis stood back up and said, "Can you not mention this to anyone?"

"That she yakked on your Tanino Crisci shoes?"

"How'd you know?"

"How'd I know you're wearing thirteen hundred dollar shoes? Because I get paid to notice things. And in case you forgot, I live with a guy who has money, and he happens to have a few pair just like them. So tell me why we're keeping this a secret?"

He sighed and looked down at his shoes again and then tossed his soiled handkerchief into the trashcan.

"Daniels was making fun of me about the shoes," he admitted. "He says they're not practical for the job and that I'm trying to show off that I have money. Which I don't. I mean, I do have some, but I just happen to like shoes."

"Okay," I said with a nod. "I get it. My lips are sealed."

"I need to lie down," Christina mumbled as she finally emerged from the bathroom.

"We still have things to discuss," I told her. "I've got a couple of people who want to talk with you, and I expect you to answer their questions. And frankly, I've got a few questions myself."

"I can't right now," she said as tears filled her eyes. "Please. I need to take some medicine and get into bed. Can we talk tomorrow?"

In the end, I conceded.

Mostly because she was as white as a sheet and she looked like she might fall over at any second, and I felt slightly bad for her since she'd just learned that two people she may have cared about were dead.

And I only say slightly because the jury's still out on whether or not their deaths are partly due to her negligence, but still…I might be a hard ass, but I do have a heart.

So McInnis and I left, and I gave strict instructions to the agents that no one…absolutely no one…was allowed into the house unless I was in attendance.

No phone authorization…no notarized documentation…just me in person.

Of course, if something happens and I end up dead, I'm not sure what'll happen to Christina, but I'm going to keep my fingers crossed that I manage to stay alive for a while longer.

But considering all of our unanswered questions, and the flagrant regulations violations, and the fact that creepy guy from the phone yesterday hadn't called back yet, I felt like I needed to up the alert.

So starting tonight, my entire team was shacked up in a Witsec safe house, although Dunn – or Jennifer as she kept insisting – was less than thrilled.

"You're really putting a cramp in my nightlife, Mary," she'd said to me.

"Better you be a living spinster than a dead party girl."

"Uh huh. Says the woman going home with the gorgeous billionaire."

"You think he's gorgeous?"

She rolled her eyes at me and smiled.

"He's a Greek God, okay? And yeah, sure. I'll go play gin rummy with Daniels while he bitches about his wife spending the week at his in-laws in Vermont."

"Vermont? I'd think he'd only be bitching if he was the one having to spend the week up there."

She laughed and then said good night, and I felt like I'd really made a lot of headway with my team.

They seemed to have a good time at Steve-O's, and McInnis was not only impressed with my enforcer-routine I used with Christina, but also with the fact that I was more than willing to keep his secret.

I mean, hey, I can understand a shoe fetish.

I don't have one, but I do have an odd fondness for my Levi's, so who am I to judge?

But all in all, I was pleased with our progress, both on the case and on a personal level. Mike Cutter looked a hundred times better than he had when I saw him on Sunday night, and he seemed relieved that none of my team held any animosity towards him.

I'm not sure what he was expecting…a public stoning, maybe.

But the truth of the matter is that he was a victim, just like Anna.

And it was only by the grace of God that he came out of the incident alive, because the nut job with the gun could've just as easily shot him instead of hit him.

"What are you thinking about?" John asked me, his voice a low rumble as his fingers continued their random pattern over my sweat-dampened back.

"Isn't that supposed to be the girl's question?" I teased.

"Are you calling me a girl?"

"After a performance like that? Not on your life."

"Good. So?"

"Earlier. You were going to tell me what you wanted when I sort of got us off track."

"I like the way you get us off track," he replied with a smile, and then he leaned closer so that he could kiss me, this time slowly and wonderfully sensuously.

"We might have to get off track again," I murmured against his lips.

"First…I've got something for you," he said as he got up from the bed and moved over to the entryway where his jacket was lying on the floor.

"Wait, let me guess. You bought me another bed from London."

I sat up and watched him as instead of getting anything out, he just picked up his jacket and brought it over to the bed.

"It's nice, but I'm not sure it'll fit me. And really, it's already been worn, so…"

I stopped abruptly when he pulled a box from the pocket.

"You said yes when I asked badly, so I think I'm safe to try to put a little romance into it this time."

"Okay," I said, surprising myself by sounding breathless.

I mean, I feel breathless.

I've got this incredible man standing in front of me…incredible, naked man…and he loves me and wants me to marry him.

Enough so that he already bought the ring, because the name on the box was from a jeweler in London, so he had it even before this morning…even though he surely had to expect that it would take me a lot longer to say yes.

Hell, I thought it would take me longer. Out of stupidity of course, because a blind man can see that he's perfect for me, but still…

"Okay, so….this is still a good idea, right?" he asked cautiously.

"How long have you been carrying that thing around with you?"

"It's been in your apartment," he said with a grin.

"At my place?"

"Hey, you gave me a drawer. You didn't specify what I could put in it."

Before I could respond, he pulled me up from the bed and then opened the box with one hand as he took hold of my left hand with the other.

"Yes," I said.

"I didn't ask yet," he teased.

"You committed to buying the cow, remember?" I reminded him, and I can't help but feel nervous and excited and just so freaking ridiculously in love.

"Not my most romantic statement," he said. "But Mary…I love you, and I can't think of anything I want more than for you to be my wife."

And out of nowhere, my eyes suddenly filled with tears.

I mean, as I mentioned, I was married once before.

I've even sort of been in love before, although not to the man I married.

But I've never once felt like this.

"You're going to keep me in suspense?"

"Yes. I mean, no, I'm not. I'm saying yes. Again."

He slid the ring onto my finger and then wrapped his arms around me, hugging me tightly to him.

"Was this proposal better?" he whispered into my ear.

"This was pretty damn good. But you know, the first one was kind of nice, too. You were all bloody, and I looked like a frumpy old maid…it's the stuff memories are made of."

He chuckled lightly and kept hugging me and then he ran his hands over my back and said, "I want us to buy a house together, either before or after we get married, it doesn't matter. But let's get a house and then I'll get my dog back from Rocco and the three of us can live happily ever after."

"Yes, but only to two of those things."

"No house?"

"Let Rocco keep Dynamite. He loves that dog," I pointed out. And he really does, which is why I forgave him for keeping the dog's original name. "We'll get our own."

"Huh," he said thoughtfully. "Yeah, you're right. We need to get one with a surly disposition that matches yours."

"Wow, two seconds after I say yes and you're already insulting me."

He pulled back from me and put his hands along my cheeks, kissing me firmly before saying, "What can I say? Your sarcasm is infectious."

"You make that sound like a communicable disease."

"Yes, but the best kind of communicable disease," he joked.

"Uh huh. So…you still didn't tell me what you want. From earlier, I mean."

"Sure I did. You. A house. A dog. The whole kit and caboodle."

"And that's it?"

"No, you know, there is one more thing."

He let his eyes slowly wander down over me in such a way that had me tingling from anticipation, despite the fact that he wasn't even touching me anymore.

"Anything. I'm feeling generous, so take advantage," I offered suggestively.

He smiled and took me by the hand, weaving his fingers through mine and then he said, "Well, I think we need to start at the beginning. Show me chapter one."

TBC...