"Ok, I'm good, let's do this. And remember the rules!" Anna said, stepping
out into the light of the room.
Sark adjusted his black suit as he turned to face her, his expression blanked when he saw her. Anna had on an intense red dress, with a low neck exposing creamy skin and a deep 'v' in the back. Her hair was coiled up, a few stray strands framed her beautiful face. Sark took a breath as he looked at her, feeling that thing he'd felt when he'd seen her for the first time in the airport lounge. He still hadn't found the words to describe it, and wasn't even sure if he wanted to. He opened his mouth to say something, his bright blue eyes softened. "You look...--"
Her dark brown eyes made a circle. "Save it for someone who cares." She couldn't help but notice that he was a good-looking man and could definitely pull off a suit quite nicely. She sighed on the inside as she thought, too bad all the hot ones are lacking personality, well that and are enemies of the US.
Sark tried to avert his eyes; he knew he was staring intently at her. "Well, you really know how to take a compliment."
She grabbed her purse and checked her reflection in the mirror over the dresser. "Because what woman doesn't love compliments from a criminal? They're always the most special. Can we just do this, if you could stop staring at me for one second!"
Sark sat on the bed, putting on his shoes. "I wasn't staring. You're not really my type!"
"Oh right....not inflatable, gotcha!" Anna laughed at her comment before her face turned threatening and serious. She pushed his back against the wall.
Sark smirked, "Rough and tough usually isn't my style. But I'd try it just for you."
"The only rough play we'll be having is when I kick your ass," She stated, glaring at him. "Speaking of that," she leaned it close to him, making it so that she was looking him straight up in the eyes, "you should know that if you betray the CIA, betray me......the deal is off. Which means I can use any means necessary to get what I want. I could torture you to no end and kick the living shit out of you." Anna stepped away from him and brushed her fingers over her bare upper chest. "So, personally, I hope you don't help us out." She started to walk towards the hotel. Sark ran to catch up with her. "Everyday, your purity and goodness becomes more and more obvious to me."
She continued to stare straight ahead. "I don't get paid enough to be nice to you."
"Now is that something a wife would say to her loving husband?" Sark said, intertwining his arm with hers as they approached the hotel entrance.
Anna tried to jerk her arm away but Sark's breath caught her ear. "Ah, ah, ah.....we're supposed to be married....didn't you review the mission, superagent?
Her eyes got smaller, as she glanced at him through the corner of her eye. "Shut up. I know what I'm doing."
Sark's arm snaked its way around her slim waist, his hand sliding across her smooth back. "I don't doubt you know what to do."
"Are you actually this cheesy all the time or is part of the act?" Anna retorted through clenched teeth. "I mean, do these lines actually work for you?"
Sark smiled graciously at the doorman. "Usually I don't have too. Women just fall at my feet."
"From revulsion."
"You're a difficult one though."
Anna sighed as they walked through the corridor of the brightly lit hotel. "Either that or actually have a mind....which I'm sure you're Barbie imitator girlfriends do not!"
Sark tried to swallow his laugh. "Wow, jealous already? I think our relationship is progressing nicely."
"If by progressive, you mean non-existent."
Sark smiled brilliantly as they entered the dining hall, where the party was being held. "Mr. and Mrs. James," he stated in a pleasant manner to the host, holding the guest list. "And isn't my wife looking smashing tonight!" Sark gave Anna a quick peck on the cheek.
Anna's eyes flashed disgust as they made their way into the lavishly decorated dining hall. "I hate you, you son of a bitch."
"It's all in the act......which you haven proven yourself to be expert at." He pulled out a chair for her at a round, large diner table. He sat down beside her, reading the name cards on the table.
"Yeah, well act this, jerk!" She tossed her 'purse' which was packed with gear, some of which was pretty heavy, casually at his chest. Anna smiled sweetly at him as she stood and went to the waiter.
Sark realized that this was not going to be an easy night.
*********
"I'm not dancing with you, I'm not dancing with you," Anna repeated through a forced smile. Sark put his hand on her neck gently. "Well if you have any better ideas on how to get to the other side of the room without simply walking over there obviously, tell me!"
Anna sighed in defeat. "And you said I couldn't do this mission alone...."
He took her in his arms on the dance floor and to any casual observers, the two looked entirely natural and complete in that moment. What those people didn't know is that the whole they were dancing, looking serene and pleasant, they were having a heated argument about the best way to access the door.
"Now?" Anna asked impatiently into Sark's ear, sending shivers down his spine.
Sark hand traveled back and forth across the tender skin of her lower back thoughtlessly. "We might want to wait until the changing of the guards." He felt her tremble under his touch. "What, nervous are we, superspy?"
Anna pulled back slightly, looking him straightly in the eyes. "Just sickened." She moved closer to him again, her cheek resting on his coat slightly and she closed her eyes for a moment, imagining that she was really just dancing; she wasn't an agent on a mission; she wasn't dancing with someone on the Most Wanted List; she was just in this moment.
"It's time."
Anna pulled away, looking distracted and frazzled. Sark watched her, amused. "What—enjoying that, were you?
She recovered quickly, returning his glance icily. "Just trying to keep my gag reflex in check, that's all."
"What a lady!" He danced them over to the corner of the room, where she took some sort of gadget from her purse and placed it on the wall. "Ready?" she asked.
Sark watched the guards closely. "In one...two....now!"
Anna pressed the button, and the lights in the ballroom went out for a moment. When they were back on, no one noticed that the attractive young couple had disappeared.
*********
Sark and Anna took the elevator to the basement floor, where they met a decked out guard. Anna took him out with a straight sucker punch. She tried to hide a grin when Sark, looking impressed, commented, "I'm having vivid flashbacks."
They hurried down the hallway to a large doorway, opening a small keypad. "Tell me you know this code."
Sark closed his eyes briefly, trying to recall it. "59024234." The door started to slide open and Anna and Sark were met with the confused but hardening stares of two beefy guards, their machine guns dangling around their necks. Anna and Sark glanced at eachother, their eyes speaking volumes. She kneed one of the guards in the groin, while Sark twisted the arm of the other one. Both were down in seconds but Anna watched horrified as five more started coming down the hallway and an alarm started to ring.
Again, Anna's eyes met Sark's. "Bail!" they both exclaimed at the same time. They tore down the hall quickly, jumping into the elevator back down to the main floor.
Sark and Anna hurried down the red-carpet stairs and walked quickly into the first ballroom. Her eyes scanned the room, seeing it was a wedding reception. Her eyes met Sark's instaneously. "We need to sit down, now!"
The room was fairly quiet as Anna and Sark took their places at a table with a few empty spots in the corner of the room. A passing thought entered her mind; they were crashing someone's wedding! Anna pulled an abandoned purple shawl lying on a nearby chair around her shoulders as Sark pulled off his dinner jacket and rolled up his shirt sleeves. 'Sark, pull out some of the pins in my hair!" Anna ordered in a low whisper. He unwound her hair pins, his hands moved through the soft chestnut curls as they cascaded across her bare back. "Sark, the guard are going to come in, look around the room and see us--we need a diversion!"
Taking her cue, Sark tinkled his glass with the silver knife lying on the table. "What are you doing?" Anna asked, her eyes watching worriedly as people looked over to them.
"You wanted a diversion, you got one. Keep your back to the door, move to the center of the room. Sometimes the most obvious things are the most hidden. Oh....and this is for being difficult this evening." Sark stood up with his glass, making his way to the center of the room. "I think my lovely wife would like to say something to the bride and groom on their special day," he said graciously.
Anna stood up slowly and moved infront of Sark, pulling the purple shawl around her shoulders, her hair falling prettily in ringlets down her back. She looked around the crowd apprehensively and noticed that the groom and bride smiled, even though they had no idea who she was. *I'm going to kill him*, Anna thought, turning around to pierce his eyes with a look of pure hatred. "Ugh...well, I just wanted to say to--," she glanced at the nearby cake for their names, "Bob and Sherry....here's to a long and happy--" She broke off, her eyes filling with tears and she put her hand on her chest, trying to swallow the lump in her throat. Anna wiped the corners of her eyes, trying to compose herself. "Oh my God, wow, this is so emotional. To see two people, so in love--" She broke down again, bowing her head. "You know, obviously I can't do this. But I think my husband *Dick*, knows exactly what to say. Dick?" she emphasized the name
Anna lifted her head, her eyes dry now as she smiled sweetly at Sark. He came up beside her, his hands on her waist. "You are something else."
Sark turned towards the bridal table, addressing them with applause. "I think what my beautiful wife was trying to say--well, she couldn't quite get it out. Might be that chemical imbalance thing; a bit off her rocker, this one," he started, nodding towards Anna. "In fact, you know sometimes she makes up these fantasies, you know? Or even pretends to be someone else! Can you imagine? I mean this one time she actually pretended to be a woman named Isabella...a complete stranger to me?" He laughed and Anna forced herself to smile at him, as the rest of the guests looked flabbergasted. "When we first met, she pretended to hate me.....but I knew, right from the start.....that she was enraptured." Sark held up his champagne glass to Anna, sensing the guards scanning the room for them as he heard the rustles of their weapons
Anna grabbed her flute too and downed it in heartbeat, prepared to exact a little public revenge. "If by enraptured, darrrrling, you mean disgusted. He's a bit cocky you see. And seems to think he's the best looking guy to ever walk this planet. But come on---and talk about pretending over here--" She pointed at Sark. "This guy put on this act the first time I met him just to try and sleep with me---at an airport no less. And he was still kind of seeing someone at the time. Honestly, who does that?!" The guards had given up the search in that ballroom and the crowd was looking restless and uncomfortable but a few of them looked amused and interested as Anna and Sark argued.
"You attracted me, what can I say? How I don't know. You're a bit of a frigid bitch," Sark retorted, his eyes glinting in the dimmed lights.
Anna opened her mouth wide and a loud sound came out. The guests were stirred up by his words and starting whispering to one another conspiratorally. "Well, what's so great about you? You lie, you cheat--"
"Cheater!" some people in the crowd cried out. The bride and groom now looked severely stressed.
"You steal.....I mean, what don't you do? You are such a bastard, do you know that? I must say, ladies, the English--not so great" Anna said furiously, drinking another glass of champagne.
Sark clapped his hands together. "Oh and you Americans are so much better. You have no sense of humour, no fun......gee, I wish I could be like you and be so damn boring all the time. You're living the good life. Cheers!"
"Go to hell." Anna exclaimed in a singsong voice and started to walk away but turned around suddenly. "Wait, wait, just for all you ladies who want to make a try on *Dick* here. Though his name suggests......well, he's seriously lacking." Anna clapped her purse on his crotch and strode from the room, removing the purple shawl as she did. Sark just stood in the center of the hall, his expression surprised and incredulous but also a bit impressed too.
*********
Sark left the wedding reception with a smile on his face. Even he had to admit that that Anna was never boring. "Damnit, where is she?" he wondered aloud as he searched the empty halls. He felt two hands grab his jacket and pull him into a dark room of some sort. "What the--?" Sark was cut off by a soft hand that covered his mouth.
"Honestly, you're supposed to be this big, English spy and you can't keep it quiet for more than 2 seconds," Anna whispered into his ear, warm breath tinkling his neck. "We're in a utility closet--in case you didn't notice those security guys, you know, the ones armed with MACHINE GUNS, were just around the corner. They're still looking for us! And we need that information!"
"Listen, I know a way we can get upstairs. But you'll have to trust me," Sark informed her plainly.
He could see Anna shaking her head firmly. "No way. I make the calls here. You're in custody; you don't get control!"
Sark spun her around and lifted her chin so their eyes would meet. "Damnit, you only have me. Either trust me or we don't make it out of here and you go back to the CIA with nothing. I get nothing if we succeed and nothing if we don't so there's zero in it for. I'm offering my services."
She closed her eyes, exhaling deeply. "Fine. But I don't trust you."
Sark rolled his blue eyes in frustration. "Ok, whatever. But we need---," he rumaged through the closet, "there, wear this!" He handed her some sort of clothing item and started unbuttoning his shirt. Anna lifted up her eyebrows questioningly before giving in and turned her body from his, pulling off her red dress. The closet was getting extremely hot and their skin touched, eliciting invisible sparks.
"A maid's uniform?"
Sark looked her over. "I think they prefer the term 'staff'!" He himself had on a pair of old coveralls. He rolled up their clothes and threw them in the mopping bucket, removing the necessary gear from Anna's purse. "Ready?"
Anna glared at him suspiciously. "No."
Sark half-smiled. "Good." He grabbed her hand and led her out the closet, pushing a cart full of hotel maintenance items.
Anna felt nervous; she was putting everything into this man, a man renowned for his treachery and deception. Where they would end up was anyone's guess.
Sark adjusted his black suit as he turned to face her, his expression blanked when he saw her. Anna had on an intense red dress, with a low neck exposing creamy skin and a deep 'v' in the back. Her hair was coiled up, a few stray strands framed her beautiful face. Sark took a breath as he looked at her, feeling that thing he'd felt when he'd seen her for the first time in the airport lounge. He still hadn't found the words to describe it, and wasn't even sure if he wanted to. He opened his mouth to say something, his bright blue eyes softened. "You look...--"
Her dark brown eyes made a circle. "Save it for someone who cares." She couldn't help but notice that he was a good-looking man and could definitely pull off a suit quite nicely. She sighed on the inside as she thought, too bad all the hot ones are lacking personality, well that and are enemies of the US.
Sark tried to avert his eyes; he knew he was staring intently at her. "Well, you really know how to take a compliment."
She grabbed her purse and checked her reflection in the mirror over the dresser. "Because what woman doesn't love compliments from a criminal? They're always the most special. Can we just do this, if you could stop staring at me for one second!"
Sark sat on the bed, putting on his shoes. "I wasn't staring. You're not really my type!"
"Oh right....not inflatable, gotcha!" Anna laughed at her comment before her face turned threatening and serious. She pushed his back against the wall.
Sark smirked, "Rough and tough usually isn't my style. But I'd try it just for you."
"The only rough play we'll be having is when I kick your ass," She stated, glaring at him. "Speaking of that," she leaned it close to him, making it so that she was looking him straight up in the eyes, "you should know that if you betray the CIA, betray me......the deal is off. Which means I can use any means necessary to get what I want. I could torture you to no end and kick the living shit out of you." Anna stepped away from him and brushed her fingers over her bare upper chest. "So, personally, I hope you don't help us out." She started to walk towards the hotel. Sark ran to catch up with her. "Everyday, your purity and goodness becomes more and more obvious to me."
She continued to stare straight ahead. "I don't get paid enough to be nice to you."
"Now is that something a wife would say to her loving husband?" Sark said, intertwining his arm with hers as they approached the hotel entrance.
Anna tried to jerk her arm away but Sark's breath caught her ear. "Ah, ah, ah.....we're supposed to be married....didn't you review the mission, superagent?
Her eyes got smaller, as she glanced at him through the corner of her eye. "Shut up. I know what I'm doing."
Sark's arm snaked its way around her slim waist, his hand sliding across her smooth back. "I don't doubt you know what to do."
"Are you actually this cheesy all the time or is part of the act?" Anna retorted through clenched teeth. "I mean, do these lines actually work for you?"
Sark smiled graciously at the doorman. "Usually I don't have too. Women just fall at my feet."
"From revulsion."
"You're a difficult one though."
Anna sighed as they walked through the corridor of the brightly lit hotel. "Either that or actually have a mind....which I'm sure you're Barbie imitator girlfriends do not!"
Sark tried to swallow his laugh. "Wow, jealous already? I think our relationship is progressing nicely."
"If by progressive, you mean non-existent."
Sark smiled brilliantly as they entered the dining hall, where the party was being held. "Mr. and Mrs. James," he stated in a pleasant manner to the host, holding the guest list. "And isn't my wife looking smashing tonight!" Sark gave Anna a quick peck on the cheek.
Anna's eyes flashed disgust as they made their way into the lavishly decorated dining hall. "I hate you, you son of a bitch."
"It's all in the act......which you haven proven yourself to be expert at." He pulled out a chair for her at a round, large diner table. He sat down beside her, reading the name cards on the table.
"Yeah, well act this, jerk!" She tossed her 'purse' which was packed with gear, some of which was pretty heavy, casually at his chest. Anna smiled sweetly at him as she stood and went to the waiter.
Sark realized that this was not going to be an easy night.
*********
"I'm not dancing with you, I'm not dancing with you," Anna repeated through a forced smile. Sark put his hand on her neck gently. "Well if you have any better ideas on how to get to the other side of the room without simply walking over there obviously, tell me!"
Anna sighed in defeat. "And you said I couldn't do this mission alone...."
He took her in his arms on the dance floor and to any casual observers, the two looked entirely natural and complete in that moment. What those people didn't know is that the whole they were dancing, looking serene and pleasant, they were having a heated argument about the best way to access the door.
"Now?" Anna asked impatiently into Sark's ear, sending shivers down his spine.
Sark hand traveled back and forth across the tender skin of her lower back thoughtlessly. "We might want to wait until the changing of the guards." He felt her tremble under his touch. "What, nervous are we, superspy?"
Anna pulled back slightly, looking him straightly in the eyes. "Just sickened." She moved closer to him again, her cheek resting on his coat slightly and she closed her eyes for a moment, imagining that she was really just dancing; she wasn't an agent on a mission; she wasn't dancing with someone on the Most Wanted List; she was just in this moment.
"It's time."
Anna pulled away, looking distracted and frazzled. Sark watched her, amused. "What—enjoying that, were you?
She recovered quickly, returning his glance icily. "Just trying to keep my gag reflex in check, that's all."
"What a lady!" He danced them over to the corner of the room, where she took some sort of gadget from her purse and placed it on the wall. "Ready?" she asked.
Sark watched the guards closely. "In one...two....now!"
Anna pressed the button, and the lights in the ballroom went out for a moment. When they were back on, no one noticed that the attractive young couple had disappeared.
*********
Sark and Anna took the elevator to the basement floor, where they met a decked out guard. Anna took him out with a straight sucker punch. She tried to hide a grin when Sark, looking impressed, commented, "I'm having vivid flashbacks."
They hurried down the hallway to a large doorway, opening a small keypad. "Tell me you know this code."
Sark closed his eyes briefly, trying to recall it. "59024234." The door started to slide open and Anna and Sark were met with the confused but hardening stares of two beefy guards, their machine guns dangling around their necks. Anna and Sark glanced at eachother, their eyes speaking volumes. She kneed one of the guards in the groin, while Sark twisted the arm of the other one. Both were down in seconds but Anna watched horrified as five more started coming down the hallway and an alarm started to ring.
Again, Anna's eyes met Sark's. "Bail!" they both exclaimed at the same time. They tore down the hall quickly, jumping into the elevator back down to the main floor.
Sark and Anna hurried down the red-carpet stairs and walked quickly into the first ballroom. Her eyes scanned the room, seeing it was a wedding reception. Her eyes met Sark's instaneously. "We need to sit down, now!"
The room was fairly quiet as Anna and Sark took their places at a table with a few empty spots in the corner of the room. A passing thought entered her mind; they were crashing someone's wedding! Anna pulled an abandoned purple shawl lying on a nearby chair around her shoulders as Sark pulled off his dinner jacket and rolled up his shirt sleeves. 'Sark, pull out some of the pins in my hair!" Anna ordered in a low whisper. He unwound her hair pins, his hands moved through the soft chestnut curls as they cascaded across her bare back. "Sark, the guard are going to come in, look around the room and see us--we need a diversion!"
Taking her cue, Sark tinkled his glass with the silver knife lying on the table. "What are you doing?" Anna asked, her eyes watching worriedly as people looked over to them.
"You wanted a diversion, you got one. Keep your back to the door, move to the center of the room. Sometimes the most obvious things are the most hidden. Oh....and this is for being difficult this evening." Sark stood up with his glass, making his way to the center of the room. "I think my lovely wife would like to say something to the bride and groom on their special day," he said graciously.
Anna stood up slowly and moved infront of Sark, pulling the purple shawl around her shoulders, her hair falling prettily in ringlets down her back. She looked around the crowd apprehensively and noticed that the groom and bride smiled, even though they had no idea who she was. *I'm going to kill him*, Anna thought, turning around to pierce his eyes with a look of pure hatred. "Ugh...well, I just wanted to say to--," she glanced at the nearby cake for their names, "Bob and Sherry....here's to a long and happy--" She broke off, her eyes filling with tears and she put her hand on her chest, trying to swallow the lump in her throat. Anna wiped the corners of her eyes, trying to compose herself. "Oh my God, wow, this is so emotional. To see two people, so in love--" She broke down again, bowing her head. "You know, obviously I can't do this. But I think my husband *Dick*, knows exactly what to say. Dick?" she emphasized the name
Anna lifted her head, her eyes dry now as she smiled sweetly at Sark. He came up beside her, his hands on her waist. "You are something else."
Sark turned towards the bridal table, addressing them with applause. "I think what my beautiful wife was trying to say--well, she couldn't quite get it out. Might be that chemical imbalance thing; a bit off her rocker, this one," he started, nodding towards Anna. "In fact, you know sometimes she makes up these fantasies, you know? Or even pretends to be someone else! Can you imagine? I mean this one time she actually pretended to be a woman named Isabella...a complete stranger to me?" He laughed and Anna forced herself to smile at him, as the rest of the guests looked flabbergasted. "When we first met, she pretended to hate me.....but I knew, right from the start.....that she was enraptured." Sark held up his champagne glass to Anna, sensing the guards scanning the room for them as he heard the rustles of their weapons
Anna grabbed her flute too and downed it in heartbeat, prepared to exact a little public revenge. "If by enraptured, darrrrling, you mean disgusted. He's a bit cocky you see. And seems to think he's the best looking guy to ever walk this planet. But come on---and talk about pretending over here--" She pointed at Sark. "This guy put on this act the first time I met him just to try and sleep with me---at an airport no less. And he was still kind of seeing someone at the time. Honestly, who does that?!" The guards had given up the search in that ballroom and the crowd was looking restless and uncomfortable but a few of them looked amused and interested as Anna and Sark argued.
"You attracted me, what can I say? How I don't know. You're a bit of a frigid bitch," Sark retorted, his eyes glinting in the dimmed lights.
Anna opened her mouth wide and a loud sound came out. The guests were stirred up by his words and starting whispering to one another conspiratorally. "Well, what's so great about you? You lie, you cheat--"
"Cheater!" some people in the crowd cried out. The bride and groom now looked severely stressed.
"You steal.....I mean, what don't you do? You are such a bastard, do you know that? I must say, ladies, the English--not so great" Anna said furiously, drinking another glass of champagne.
Sark clapped his hands together. "Oh and you Americans are so much better. You have no sense of humour, no fun......gee, I wish I could be like you and be so damn boring all the time. You're living the good life. Cheers!"
"Go to hell." Anna exclaimed in a singsong voice and started to walk away but turned around suddenly. "Wait, wait, just for all you ladies who want to make a try on *Dick* here. Though his name suggests......well, he's seriously lacking." Anna clapped her purse on his crotch and strode from the room, removing the purple shawl as she did. Sark just stood in the center of the hall, his expression surprised and incredulous but also a bit impressed too.
*********
Sark left the wedding reception with a smile on his face. Even he had to admit that that Anna was never boring. "Damnit, where is she?" he wondered aloud as he searched the empty halls. He felt two hands grab his jacket and pull him into a dark room of some sort. "What the--?" Sark was cut off by a soft hand that covered his mouth.
"Honestly, you're supposed to be this big, English spy and you can't keep it quiet for more than 2 seconds," Anna whispered into his ear, warm breath tinkling his neck. "We're in a utility closet--in case you didn't notice those security guys, you know, the ones armed with MACHINE GUNS, were just around the corner. They're still looking for us! And we need that information!"
"Listen, I know a way we can get upstairs. But you'll have to trust me," Sark informed her plainly.
He could see Anna shaking her head firmly. "No way. I make the calls here. You're in custody; you don't get control!"
Sark spun her around and lifted her chin so their eyes would meet. "Damnit, you only have me. Either trust me or we don't make it out of here and you go back to the CIA with nothing. I get nothing if we succeed and nothing if we don't so there's zero in it for. I'm offering my services."
She closed her eyes, exhaling deeply. "Fine. But I don't trust you."
Sark rolled his blue eyes in frustration. "Ok, whatever. But we need---," he rumaged through the closet, "there, wear this!" He handed her some sort of clothing item and started unbuttoning his shirt. Anna lifted up her eyebrows questioningly before giving in and turned her body from his, pulling off her red dress. The closet was getting extremely hot and their skin touched, eliciting invisible sparks.
"A maid's uniform?"
Sark looked her over. "I think they prefer the term 'staff'!" He himself had on a pair of old coveralls. He rolled up their clothes and threw them in the mopping bucket, removing the necessary gear from Anna's purse. "Ready?"
Anna glared at him suspiciously. "No."
Sark half-smiled. "Good." He grabbed her hand and led her out the closet, pushing a cart full of hotel maintenance items.
Anna felt nervous; she was putting everything into this man, a man renowned for his treachery and deception. Where they would end up was anyone's guess.