In no time at all, Sydney was packed and on a plane. The name on her ticket
was Sydney Emily Beck. She had chosen it in remembrance of the woman who
had taken over the mother role in her life. Michael's last name turned out
to be Viscardi, although he claimed not to be Italian. "French born.
American bred." He had claimed with that lopsided grin.
"So, Michael, tell me about this place. And why I had to pack so much stuff." She turned to him after takeoff.
"Okay. First of all, you're coming along on my vacation. We will be there for awhile. And this place is a ranch owned by my. my former employer." Sydney's eyes widened. Those words gave her chills up her spine. And brought up a mind numbing suspicion. "They lent it to me. I go there because it has a nice recording studio. How well do you sing?" He was turning this into an interrogation.
"I have no clue. You had better be grateful, cause I would never do this. I have had no training." She trailed off, thinking of her next question. He opened his mouth to comment, but Sydney cut him off with, "No, it's my turn. But first, you have to be completely honest with me."
Michael's face instantly became tense. He had the feeling he would have a hard time lying to her. But he nodded to her anyway.
"Okay here it goes." she bent towards him and lowered her voice. "Is it your dog that was barking yesterday morning at the ungodly hour of three?"
Michael cracked up, his joyful laugh filling the cabin. Relief pumped into him. "Yeah," he stage whispered. "Donny's mine. Sorry if he woke you up." They spent the rest of the time teasing eachother.
The flight from Colorado to Montana was supposed to be a short one. Unfortunately, a storm had hit Montana, and it took forever to land. By the time they got to the ranch, it was almost ten at night. They arrived at a darkened cabin, lit a fire, and explored. The bottom floor was one big room, with a kitchen, small living area, and a bed in one corner. There was a door, which led to the small studio. A spiral staircase led to a small loft, which held one more bed.
The second they arrived, Sydney was struck with her own stupidity. She was a former spy! She knew better than this! She had left with a strange man, went to a strange place to do something completely out of character.
And she felt fine about it. She felt safe.
'Oh well.' She thought desperately. 'Dad always said follow your instinct.' She was drawn out of her thoughts when he began talking.
"So, what floor do you want? It doesn't matter to me." Michael turned to find her right behind him, her face close to his.
His hands raised to cup her face as she whispered, "Uh, bottom." This time it was Sydney who leaned in and pushed her lips to his. Her mind shut off as she reveled in the simplicity of a kiss. Michael wrapped her arms around him and she pressed her body into his. His muscles tightened as she ran her hands down his back. He kissed his was down to Sydney's neck and she giggled breathlessly.
"Wait." she gasped. "What are we doing?"
Michael pulled back slightly. He made one assessing glance, then grinned devilishly. The look made her want to melt. "Well, we were kissing." he muttered as he pulled her in again.
"So, Michael, tell me about this place. And why I had to pack so much stuff." She turned to him after takeoff.
"Okay. First of all, you're coming along on my vacation. We will be there for awhile. And this place is a ranch owned by my. my former employer." Sydney's eyes widened. Those words gave her chills up her spine. And brought up a mind numbing suspicion. "They lent it to me. I go there because it has a nice recording studio. How well do you sing?" He was turning this into an interrogation.
"I have no clue. You had better be grateful, cause I would never do this. I have had no training." She trailed off, thinking of her next question. He opened his mouth to comment, but Sydney cut him off with, "No, it's my turn. But first, you have to be completely honest with me."
Michael's face instantly became tense. He had the feeling he would have a hard time lying to her. But he nodded to her anyway.
"Okay here it goes." she bent towards him and lowered her voice. "Is it your dog that was barking yesterday morning at the ungodly hour of three?"
Michael cracked up, his joyful laugh filling the cabin. Relief pumped into him. "Yeah," he stage whispered. "Donny's mine. Sorry if he woke you up." They spent the rest of the time teasing eachother.
The flight from Colorado to Montana was supposed to be a short one. Unfortunately, a storm had hit Montana, and it took forever to land. By the time they got to the ranch, it was almost ten at night. They arrived at a darkened cabin, lit a fire, and explored. The bottom floor was one big room, with a kitchen, small living area, and a bed in one corner. There was a door, which led to the small studio. A spiral staircase led to a small loft, which held one more bed.
The second they arrived, Sydney was struck with her own stupidity. She was a former spy! She knew better than this! She had left with a strange man, went to a strange place to do something completely out of character.
And she felt fine about it. She felt safe.
'Oh well.' She thought desperately. 'Dad always said follow your instinct.' She was drawn out of her thoughts when he began talking.
"So, what floor do you want? It doesn't matter to me." Michael turned to find her right behind him, her face close to his.
His hands raised to cup her face as she whispered, "Uh, bottom." This time it was Sydney who leaned in and pushed her lips to his. Her mind shut off as she reveled in the simplicity of a kiss. Michael wrapped her arms around him and she pressed her body into his. His muscles tightened as she ran her hands down his back. He kissed his was down to Sydney's neck and she giggled breathlessly.
"Wait." she gasped. "What are we doing?"
Michael pulled back slightly. He made one assessing glance, then grinned devilishly. The look made her want to melt. "Well, we were kissing." he muttered as he pulled her in again.