I was released from the hospital shortly after my meeting with the Gestapo. They made no effort to halt my release. We both knew they had no reason to hold me further for questioning. If anything, my honorable and dedicated service had made theirs all that much more pathetic.

I had been granted five days furlough before I was due to report for duty in France. Five days of pushing the war aside, living without the reality of killing or the thought of being killed. Five days to deal with the heroin addiction which still lurked within me. Five days to kill the shameful carnal desire Guest had awakened within me.

I was walking down a narrow side street, making my way to a small hotel which would offer the solitude and privacy I craved. By my side was Agathe, able to share my furlough with me. Father Leon had compassionately adjusted her duty schedule to enable us some precious time together before my departure.

All of the time we had spent together since we had been reunited, Agathe and I had shown nothing but restraint. Only professional respect had passed between the two of us. We had shared no light caresses, no lingering touches, not a knowing look promising something more when we were alone. . .

I was ready to put an end to the façade and I had no doubts Agathe was, as well. After being so near one another for the last few weeks, we could not stop but give in to one another.

We reached a private area of the roadway with no one around us. My arms went around her body and I kissed her. As the kiss continued, I pulled Agathe close to me. It nearly seemed like a miracle, something which during my darkest days I had thought I may never live to feel again.

I held a beautiful woman's body. A body I craved. I could feel the stirring of physical desire.

Touching Agathe, savoring her taste, thinking of. . .

Guest.

Damn Guest to Hell for what he had taken, and given to me! He had raped me of my naiveté and taken my self-respect, leaving behind the knowledge of the power of the sexual pleasure which could transpire between two men. It was a lesson I would never forget. How could I, when the pleasure I had felt at his hands and his mouth was destined to become the measuring stick for my sexual satisfaction.

It begged an unpleasant question: Would Agathe, or any woman, physically satisfy me to the same level as Guest had done?

The moment of my self-doubt was shattered by a car horn. Agathe and I hurriedly separated, straightening our clothing. We were blocking the narrow street, preventing a car from passing. We pressed ourselves to the wall, allowing the car enough room to pass. The driver proceeded to drive by slowly, but not before he shouted a few things out the open window to me, a grin on his face.

"What did he say?" asked Agathe, smiling to the motorist, as she smoothed her hair.

I found myself slightly coloring. "He suggested it would be safer if we move our activities indoors, and away from the street," I politely only partially translated.

I lightly kissed her hand before releasing it. "Shall we at least take one of his suggestions?" With a wicked grin, I motioned her forward and we continued up the street to the hotel.

"Oh?" Agathe gave me a knowing grin. "Which one?"

"You'll see," I promised.

Laughing, we quickened out pace. With the incentive our brief embrace had provided, it wasn't long until we had reached our destination.

One would never suspect a hotel was at the far end. Still well maintained despite the war, the hotel's entrance was through a lush courtyard, making it appear to be a private residence. The gardens were blooming and the air was filled with the scent of jasmine and lilies. Their heavy scent carried into the lobby.

The lobby was intimate with a small, but well stocked, bar to the side. Waiters in smart jackets worked the room, serving drinks to handsome couples lounging on the well-placed sofas. I saw no Wehrmacht soldiers, but I had not expected any to be staying here given the hotel's seclusion and expensive rates. I had no desire to meet any of my fellow officers. I wanted nothing more than to focus solely on Agathe.

We approached the front desk and a look of recognition crossed the owner's face.

"Ah! Signor Dietrich! It has been a few years since I have had the good fortune to see you. Good to see you have not forgotten us," he said in heavily accented German. He leaned towards me. "And the lady! Even more lovely than the last one," he added softly in Italian, with a wink.

"She is, indeed," I said, smiling at Agathe. "Very much so." I turned my attention back to the owner. "Do you have a room available?"

"Of course, of course! For you, Signor Dietrich, there is always a room available!" He quickly looked at the registry before sliding it towards me. "Your usual room? It is currently vacant. I remember you valuing your privacy." He again looked at Agathe and gave me another wink.

I nodded. The owner gathered the key while I signed the registry.

"I believe you know the way, Signor Dietrich?" He picked up our small bags and indicated the stairs.

I had always preferred this room. It was off to the side at the end of the hallway, and overlooked the Mediterranean Sea. Best of all, it was private, with no other rooms nearby. The owner opened the door and placed the bags inside.

I slipped him several Reischsmarks as he handed me the key.

"We desire not to be disturbed," I told him.

"I will notify the staff, Signor Dietrich," he said solemnly, but with a twinkle in his eye. The owner glanced over to Agathe. She had walked over to a table to place her handbag down. He nodded towards her. "Enjoy your stay."

I locked the door behind him. Finally, we were alone.

I threw my cover on a chair and turned to admire her.

The late afternoon light shone through the open window, catching Agathe in its glow. The sun brought out the subtle bronze highlights in her short hair. I could see the outline of her body through her thin clothing. The full hips, the long legs and what lie between them, beckoning to me.

I found myself aroused by merely looking at her. As much as I desired, no needed her, I would give Agathe the respect she deserved. I restrained myself from tearing off her clothing and taking her immediately.

As Agathe marveled at the beauty of the ocean, the waves rising, cresting and lapping at the beach, I stole up behind her.

I slipped my arms around her, gathering her in an embrace, feeling the body I desired pressed against mine. I began kissing her neck. Her light feminine scent was intoxicating. So different than the heavy, artificial odor of Guest.

"Would you like dinner delivered to our room?" My lips continued their slow path up her neck. I brushed aside her hair, my fingers marveling at its silkiness. My kisses were persistent, lingering at the intersection of her ear and jaw.

Her smile stirred the muscles which lay beneath the skin my mouth was worrying.

"Mmmm . . . I believe I could be persuaded to consider such an idea."

Nearly purring, Agathe tilted her head to the side, allowing my roving lips greater access. Her cool fingers caressed the warm skin on my jaw for a moment before slowly tilting my chin upwards. Her lips found mine, light pressure soon giving way to the insistence of a tongue. As the strength and depth of our kisses grew, so did my passion.

I needed more than just a kiss. I needed to be with a woman, this woman. I yearned for the satisfaction which Agathe could bring me, a sensation completely unlike anything that I had felt at the hands of Guest—

I calmed myself with a deep breath. As I exhaled, I pushed everything but Agathe from my mind. With renewed focus, I considered how I should begin unwrapping the marvelous gift I had been given. The anticipation was even sweeter, as I knew what laid beneath.

I undid her blouse with a deliberate slowness, it's thin buttons easily slipping through my fingers, before pulling the hem from the confines of her skirt. Parting the material, I pushed it from her shoulders. The unwelcome garment slid down her arms, falling to pool on the floor.

Hands calloused from the work of war, rasped across the curve of her waist, as rough as they would have been across the silk of her discarded blouse. Gently, my fingers climbed up her smooth back. The clasp of her brassiere was hardly an obstacle in my path. With a practiced flick of my fingers, the band parted. I let the delicate undergarment fall aside. It landed to nest upon her blouse.

Agathe laid bare was a beautiful sight, a balm for my abused masculine soul. After a moment to admire, my hands covered her, the fullness of her breasts thrusting against my waiting hands.

With a slow rotation of my palms, I teased the soft globes until the nipples crowning them became engorged and hard enough to bite into my skin. As much as I loved the sensation of the soft yearning flesh straining against me, I radiated my caresses outwards with feathering strokes. When my fingers climbed to the peaks, I caught the pointed tips between my fingers, pinching and pulling.

Agathe gasped, her nipples lengthening and tightening. Had her gasps not given way to moans of pleasure, I might have suspected my attentions were causing her pain.

Her kisses became deeper, more insistent, more demanding. With one of her hands on my shoulder, the other at the base of my neck, she pulled herself more tightly against me.

I began a slow journey down her body, traveling a trail I already knew so well. The smooth valley of her waist led to the curvature of her hip, then to a length of taut thigh. Down I traveled, until I caught the hem of Agathe's skirt, rucking it.

Hidden under her skirt, my fingers again began their leisurely ascent. I paused to stroke the supple skin of Agathe's inner thigh, warm and bare of stockings. My hand tarried there for several seconds, before continuing its purposeful roaming. Soon enough, I had reached the edge of her panties, the thin barrier of fragile silk protecting the treasure which I so insistently sought.

Delicately, I began rubbing her. With a tip of a forefinger, I slowly circled what lay beneath the already damp fabric. I repeated the motion slowly, again, and then again. A mewling noise and the flexing of Agathe's hips made it plain she wanted more than just the teasing flicking glance of my fingers.

Gladly, I gave it to her. Rhythmically, I worked the now sodden fabric into the chink of her sex, my thumb beating an accompanying light steady rhythm against her clitoris.

Agathe panted, grinding and straining against my hand. I could smell her arousal, the heady, earthy scent of a woman, willing and ready to be taken. In response, my desire flamed, burning to new heights.

It was all I could do to resist the urge to lay her back and bury my face between her thighs.

I knew from experience it would be the work of a mere moment to get Agathe off in that way. But as much as I knew she would enjoy it, it wasn't what I wanted.

Instead, I contented myself with fantasy. I imagined the tip of my tongue replacing my fingers, picturing perfectly her surprisingly violent reaction to the most delicate and intimate of caresses. At the thought of how, Agathe taste as she burst and broke under my mouth, I felt myself leaping, twitching, and growing even harder.

There was no denying it. My excitement was as great as hers.

But still, I restrained myself.

Unhurriedly, I continued massaging her, feeling her, bringing her to life. A ragged sigh escaped her and she opened her legs wide, allowing me greater access.

My hand slipped inside her panties.

Delicately, I stroked open her lips, splitting them, dipping between them to find what hid so well. She was dripping wet, moisture seeping from her and slicking my fingers as they were welcomed inside of her.

I began pleasuring Agathe in earnest.

"Yes. . ." escaped her in barely a whisper.

Her hand soon joined mine, guiding me as I found the right tempo. I plunged in and out of her, following the rhythm she had set.

I curled my fingers inside of her and she stiffened and strained, her back arching. Agathe was close, so very close.

"No, not yet." I gently denied her as I slowed my motions. "The pleasure will be all that much more intense if delayed. Wait."

"I'm not sure I can." Agathe moaned. "It's been too long, Hans."

"Much too long," I agreed, barely able to bite back an answering groan of my own as she clamped down on my fingers.

I was enjoying giving Agathe pleasure, even more, witnessing her pleasure at my hand. My arousal continued to grow along with hers. Senses sharpened, the indescribable feeling of being aroused to the point of madness—

As denied her, there was no denying myself. I needed a woman to fulfill me.

Agathe knew. She began touching me through my trousers, seductively exploring, seeking to reciprocate the pleasure she was receiving. She lightly rubbed me through the thin fabric, as if assessing what she might find underneath.

Just as Guest had done before he. . .

A memory flashed through my mind. It was the memory of Guest's first explorations, when he had fondled me in a similar way, the prelude to the overture of an astonishing climax.

Suddenly, doubt impeded upon my pleasure. Could Agathe do the same?

Distracted, I unintentionally paused my actions. A whimper escaped Agathe.

As if aware of my conflicts, she turned to face me. Hunger lurked in her dark eyes, the desire echoed by her flushed skin. She reached up to my blouse, carefully undoing each button, drawing out her movements before shucking the blouse from my shoulders.

Her fingers moved along my chest, stroking it, unconsciously tracing the numerous, jagged scars which shone starkly white against my tanned skin. She bent down, capturing a nipple, her tongue gently teasing it until it was hard. I closed my eyes, savoring her delicate touch as she moved to the other one, repeating her actions.

While still sucking on me, her deft hands slid down my chest to my waist. Slowly, she undid my belt and trousers. Kneeling, she removed one boot and then the other before sliding my trousers and shorts down my hips. She gave my dick a light lick before removing my clothing, leaving me wonderfully exposed to her.

Agathe compelled me to sit in a nearby chair. Standing in front of me, she bent down and took my face between her hands. Her lips grazed mine, her tongue darting into my mouth before she began to trail kisses down my neck and chest. Again, she stopped to again tease each nipple. Her hand sliding down between my legs, she began to stroke me. Lips following hands, her kisses reached my abdomen. She parted my thighs and sank to her knees between them.

"I know what you need, Hans, what you want from me."

"Yes, Agathe. Give it to me. I must have it now. . ."

I closed my eyes, relishing the anticipation of what I was about to experience. Deliciously powerlessness in my lust, I embraced her desire to dominate me. Mein Gott! How I needed her at this moment to prove myself as a man.

Her mouth was beautiful, dripping wet, accepting and inviting. Her tongue reached out to touch and taste, hesitating before it began dancing around the head, exploring, every movement calculated to build my pleasure.

A sharp gasp escaped me when Agathe began to slowly suck. The pressure was gentle, persistent, and gratifying, just as it had always been in the past. Her other hand fondled my balls, layering sensation upon sensation, creating a symphony of pleasure. I couldn't stop myself from pushing myself further into her mouth wanting her to take me completely.

My head dropped back as I was overcome by the indescribable sensation of being engulfed by the warm, willing, and talented mouth of a woman whose only goal was to bring me to the heights of ecstasy.

I was beginning to ascend towards the peak more quickly than normal. My heart rate was increasing and my breathing became more labored. The only sounds in the room were my rasping pants and the moist sucking of her luscious mouth.

"Yes, oh yes!" My hands tangled in her hair, urging Agathe on. "So close!"

Agathe gave an answering hum of encouragement.

"Oh, God. Please! Don't stop. Finish me, make me cum!" My voice was hoarse, barely above a whisper.

The begging plea sounded vaguely familiar.

It took me a few seconds to realize that I had originally said the words to Guest.

It seemed like a lifetime ago. Had it only been a few weeks before?

From far off, I could hear her voice. "Come in my mouth, Hans. Give it to me! I want everything you have to offer. I want to hear how much you're enjoying me."

Raising my head, I opened my eyes and looked down at the person between my thighs. I wanted to lock eyes with her when I came, for her to see the power and enjoyment she had given me.

But it was not Agathe I saw.

It was Guest.

In a flash, I was transported back to the horror I had experienced in Ater. I was no longer in a plush room being pleasured by a beautiful woman. Instead, I found myself in a dank basement being tortured and abused by a sick man.

This time, I was unable to remove Guest from my mind.

The pleasure I had been experiencing by Agathe's skill began to recede. What had previously felt so right suddenly felt—

Off.

God help me, I began comparing Agathe's efforts to those of Guest's.

Agathe was suddenly hard-lipped and hollow-mouthed when compared to my memory of swirling caresses of Guest's agile tongue and the enveloping warm, soft darkness of his mouth. Moving too fast, Agathe was not allowing me the opportunity to enjoy what she was doing.

Actions which had always satisfied me in the past, but now felt jarring and unnatural.

It wasn't what I wanted, no matter how I much adored the giver.

It was nothing at all comparable to the pleasure I had received from one who I had hated.

Agathe continued for several minutes with little results to show for her labor. Despite her dedicated efforts, I had no choice but to admit I wasn't going to climax. As she began to tire, her actions became harsher and even less pleasurable.

My hands, cupping her chin and jaw, I attempted to guide her, willing her to slow and soften her mouth.

Instead, my efforts seemed to only increase her anxiety about finishing me. She began escalating her efforts.

Embarrassingly, I began to soften. It was something which had happened to me only a few times in my entire life. And then, only when I had been very drunk. And never under the focused attention of a skilled woman's mouth.

I cursed myself for falling short in this essential test of my manhood. The worst of it was, not only had I failed myself, but also Agathe.

What man wouldn't kill to have a beautiful, willing woman taking all he had to offer? At this moment, I had more than any normal man could dream of desiring.

But then, I wasn't a normal man any longer.

Was I?

I was unable to stop thinking of Guest and his talents. He had known exactly how to pleasure me, making me cum with so little effort.

Something snapped within me for what I had allowed to occur in Ater. It mattered little that I had not invited it. What mattered was that I had actually enjoyed what had been done to me by another man.

And of all men, I had allowed myself to enjoy it with Guest. I despised myself for my weakness and the desire which still burned along with the tragic ashes of the memory.

I needed Agathe's body, and not just physically. I needed her to prove, without a shadow of a doubt, what I was not. I had to prove the episode with Guest, no matter how pleasurable, could be repeated just as incredibly with a woman.

And, I would.

A violent desire swept through me, as dark as anything I had ever felt. I wanted to use Agathe, to pry her legs apart and to dive between them, burying myself to the hilt in the wetness and warmth and the sensation that could only come with fucking a woman hard.

I pushed her off me and stood. Surprised by my sudden action, Agathe stumbled backwards, her expression questioning.

Before she could give voice to her thoughts, I grabbed her by the shoulders, turning her, propelling her forward. I pushed her down onto the table, her upper body lying prone across the polished surface.

Agathe was a strong woman and attempted to rise, but I was stronger. I pinned her in place, a forearm across her back as I hiked her skirt, exposing her glorious ass. Soon, I had it laid bare. The tiny stiches holding the silk and lace together had offered no protection from my desire.

I thrust my hand between her legs. Despite her noises of protest, I found Agathe as deliciously wet as she had been before. I twisted my fingers inside of her. Soon, they coated my palm.

Moving my hand to my own length, I slicked myself with her moisture, and my mind jumped to Ater and the memory of the sinful pleasure gained from my mind-numbing debasement. In mere moments, I found myself harder than I had ever been before.

I forced Agathe's thighs apart with my knee, opening my way to the path I desired. With one hand, I grabbed hold of her hips, steadying her. With the other, I guided myself to her entrance.

One fluid, powerful motion later, I was sheathed up to the hilt.

Agathe gasped, startled by the abruptness with which I had taken her. She started to say something.

I reached up, clapping my hand across her mouth to silence her. I had no interest in listening to her words.

My only interest was in taking her body.

And such a body! Never had Agathe felt so exquisite. In her shock, Agathe had gone still, but her muscles had tightened to relentlessly clutch at every centimeter of me. With no barriers between us, the tight hot embrace was beyond compare. With great effort, I held myself still, savoring the feeling of being inside her.

Regaining her senses, Agathe started struggling. Trying to escape what she no longer desired now that it was being forced upon her, she writhed and pushed against me. As her movements became more and more desperate, an answering response, equally as desperate, rose within me.

It quickly became more than I could stand. With a growl, I began to fuck her.

At first, I contented myself with slow measured movements. Quickly, I found myself wanting more. I took it from Agathe with deep plunging thrusts.

Eyes closed and my head thrown my head back, I relished a pleasure which I was now certain could only come from one source. Any doubt of me being able to achieve satisfaction with Agathe, or with any woman, had dissipated.

The hard slap of skin against skin punctuated the end of my every thrust, accompanied only by the desperate sounds of my labored breathing. My fingers bit into flesh, finding purchase. I pushed and pulled her hips to meet mine as I buried myself deeper and deeper, into her beautiful body.

As my pleasure increased, so did my tempo. I willed myself to slow down, to take my own earlier advice. But, I was unable, unwilling, to do so.

The all too familiar delicious feelings had begun to rise, bringing with them the tightening of the muscles in my lower body. Fire ran along my nerves, pooling in my groin before traveling the length of my cock. I had reached the point of no return.

I could not deny myself any longer. I came hard, crying out as I did so, nearly sobbing in utter abandon at the joy of my release.

A few more thrusts and I collapsed on top of her, breathing as heavily as if I had just out run a demon which had been chasing me.

Which, with Agathe's help, I had.

When she attempted to move, I stilled her. I did not want her to unseat me. I did not want anything to mar the beautiful sensations I was still experiencing.

Finally, my racing heart slowed, and my breathing calmed and deepened. It was only after I softened did I allow her to move. I released my hold on Agathe, enfolding her into my arms. My cheek rested on her back, and I could feel the warm swell of her body as she breathed. I gently began kissing her smooth skin.

"Thank you," I whispered to her, "for what you gave me, for what you allowed me to take. It is what I wanted. And, it was what I needed."

Agathe said nothing.

Yes, I had proved my masculinity. I had regained everything which Guest had stolen from me, but Agathe had paid the price for its recovery.

I slipped out of her and abruptly pulled on my shorts and trousers. Going to my bag, I pulled out a bottle of brandy. Taking two glasses from the sideboard, I poured us generous measures. I downed mine in a single take.

I refilled my glass and immediately shot it back again.

My back still towards her, I leaned forward letting the heavy piece of furniture take my weight as I steadied myself. After a moment, I raised my head.

In the reflection of the gilded mirror, I watched Agathe as she recovered.

As she pushed herself up from the table, I could see the evidence of my pleasure thick and opaque, trickling down her thighs. She started to pull up her panties. Finding they were ruined, she instead wiped herself with them before discarding them into the waste can. Then, she pulled her skirt down, her fingers absently trying to smooth the wrinkles.

The entire time, Agathe had not uttered a word. I found myself holding my breath, waiting for the derision and hatred which would surely come.

Finally, she looked up, her eyes on the reflection of my own.

I was deeply disgraced. I wanted to look away, to hang my head in shame at what I had become, but I forced myself to look her in the eye.

She crossed the room, her expression preoccupied, her focus on my back.

I had not felt self-conscious when she had changed my dressings professionally in the hospital. Now in a private setting, I was suddenly embarrassed for her to see my external lesions. I reached into my bag for a blouse and slipped it on, quickly tucking it into my trousers.

"You certainly took what you wanted, Hans," Agathe said.

Not meeting her eyes, I nodded, reaching for the brandy again. There was no arguing it.

"Has it been that long since you've had sex? I mean, we both agreed that given our separation, we could be with others. There was no need for your actions."

"Actually, it hasn't been that long since I've been with a woman," I admitted. Yes, there had been numerous women, but only one man.

She reached for her brandy. I frankly expected her to throw her drink in my face and leave. Instead, she drank it down before placing the glass down firmly on the sideboard.

"What happened when you were a prisoner?" Agathe asked.

I turned to face her, but only to refill her glass.

She studied me intently, her expression hard.

I ran my hand through my hair.

"You are very much aware that I was tortured, Agathe."

"Something else happened. Something you are not sharing. You have always been an intense lover. But this time, this time you were like a man possessed, Hans. It was as if you wanted to take something from me for yourself."

I reached for my cigarettes, and promptly lit two, handing her one. I sharply blew a stream of smoke to the ceiling.

"I would have freely offered you anything, if I'd only known what to give. Tell me what happened," she pressed. "I can help you."

She had helped me, but I was not about to share how or why. "I don't discuss the particulars of the war with women, Agathe. Not you, not my mother, not with my sister. Not with any woman. You are very much aware of my stance."

Agathe smoked in silence as she waited for something more.

Indecision and shame rose within me. Agathe knew nothing of my heroin addiction or my sexual encounter with a man. I knew I could never, and would never, share these two defining moments with her.

Gathering my strength and my resolve, I finally turned to face her.

"You well know I almost died when I was tortured. And you've seen how the abuse ruined my body. But really, that was the least of it." I paused, carefully choosing my words, "More so, it impacted my mind. Like the scars on my back, I'll carry the memories of it with me always."

Agathe nodded. "It would be expected." Her voice was clinical, as if she was talking to me as my nurse instead of as my lover. "Perhaps, it would help if we talked?"

There was nothing I wanted to do less. "I will say nothing more. I am unwilling, and unable, to share any further details with you."

I stubbed out my cigarette, signifying the end of the conversation.

We spoke little after that, both lost in our own thoughts. For lack of anything better to do, we went down to dinner. There was no longer any need to have it sent to our room as originally planned.

The owner was surprised to see us, immediately recognizing the tension between Agathe and myself. He raised an eyebrow in question, but receiving no answer left us to ourselves and to our miseries.

As we dined, long silences were punctuated by infrequent words. Agathe excused herself before coffee. I was almost relieved to see her go.

As I sat there alone, crushing regret weighed upon me. Regret at what could never be undone, regret at what I had done. As much as Guest had made a victim of me, I had in turn made Agathe mine. It was a thing, which even in my darkest hours, I could have never imagined myself doing.

Though, courtesy of Guest, I admitted the list of those things was becoming longer every day . . .

With a startling and sickening clarity, I finally recognized Guest's true end game. It hadn't really been about the gold. Ultimately, his goal had been to obliterate everything which had defined me as a soldier, and as a man. Methodically, he had determined all those things which I had held dear about myself. Using every trick in his arsenal, he had worked to turn them all against me in order to achieve his goal of destroying the man I was.

In the end, it seemed Guest had succeeded in accomplishing his objective.

That realization alone filled me with more self-loathing than anything else which I had suffered at his hands.

I indulged in self-hatred and very fine cognac for quite some time, until a gentle hand touched my shoulder. It was the owner, letting me know that due to the late hour, the bar would be closing.

The thought of returning to my room, and seeing the man I had become reflected in Agathe's eyes was more than I could bear. I inquired if there was another room available.

The owner regretfully informed me there was not. I thanked him and bid him goodnight.

I hesitated at the stairs, unwilling to face Agathe and the consequences of what I become. But, there was no avoiding it. I hoped I at least had enough strength of my former character remaining to meet what awaited me with grace.

Mercifully, Agathe was in bed when I returned. I slowly showered, prolonging the time before it would be necessary for me to join her in the large bed.

Unable to delay anymore, I slid under the cool sheets, careful not to touch her.

I had no idea if she was awake or had already fallen asleep. Regardless, what I had to say needed to be said.

"I used you, in a way which I would have never even contemplated using a common whore. I should have made love to you properly, in the way that you deserve," I said softly into the darkness.

I received no response. I do not know what I had expected, or even what I had wanted, to hear from her. However, there was one more thing which I needed to say to Agathe.

I took a deep shuddering breath. "I ask for your forgiveness, Agathe, for the way I treated you. And, if you cannot find it in you to forgive me, the only thing I will ask is you remember me the man I was, and not the man I have become."

Suddenly mentally and physical exhausted, I rolled onto my left side, distancing myself from her.

The bed shifted along with Agathe as she closed the distance I had put between us.

I flinched when her slim fingers barely brushed the horrific scarring on my back. As she traced along the thin raised welts, I ground my teeth and willed myself still, subjecting myself to her exploration without protest. After all, I had allowed her to witness a much uglier part of myself.

"I am truly sorry for what you went through, Hans. And, I'm so sorry for the memories which you are still being forced to endure." Agathe's voice was thick with emotion. "If I had the power, I would do anything to excise them from you and to restore you, whole and unbroken, as to how you were before."

Pushing down my own emotion, I rolled over, raising my arm as an invitation. She came to me, laying her head on my chest. My arms went around her, pulling her to me.

I stroked her hair, trying to comfort both her and myself. "Oh, Agathe, if only you could. If only anyone could. Unfortunately, it's now a part of me that will always remain."

Agathe looked up at me. In her dark eyes, there was grief. But beyond that, they also held a slight spark.

Gently, she touched her lips to mine. The tender kiss increased in demand and intensity, our tongues soon violently intertwining.

I rolled on top of her and she brought her arms up behind my neck, pulling me close.

This time, free from the interference of my memories of Guest, our coupling was as intense as before. However, this time, mutually so.

As our incredible shared passion culminated in mind-blowing pleasure, I found the true release I had been seeking all along.

We did not leave our room until the late afternoon, the following day. The hours were filled with continuous ravenous sex, each of us demanding more from each other than we had in the past. Agathe had been a willing partner in the past, but now I did her longer and harder, sharing the erotic variations I enjoyed.

Finally, we ventured out, to enjoy Italy with its beautiful springtime weather.

We were slowly walking along the Mediterranean shore, appreciating the pleasantness of the late afternoon. If one didn't know any better, it would be impossible to tell that a world war was being waged a short distance away.

We rarely spoke during our walk; instead, we enjoyed each other's company in the few remaining moments we would share.

We came across a low stone wall and sat down, waiting for the beautiful sunset. A breeze picked up, and I pulled her close. We said little, and I could feel the soft rise and fall of her body against mine.

I looked past her and gazed out across the Mediterranean.

"The war will be ending, Agathe," I said to her softly.

"I look forward to returning to life as it was before," she responded, looking out over the sea.

"Life will never be the same." My frank words surprised her and she turned to me.

"What do you mean? How will it be different?" Her uncertainty clearly showed on Agathe's face.

I shook my head slightly, not having a ready answer for her. My life would always be measured and determined by the war.

"Hans, tell me. You think Germany is going to lose the war, don't you?" Fear was now showing in her eyes.

"I do, and badly." I looked beyond her, at the sea, not wanting to answer her questions. The sun would be setting soon, just as it would be for Germany.

"When?"

"A few years, probably 1945."

Agathe laid her head on my chest, resigned to the fate.

"What will happen to Germany? What will we do?"

"Live, darling, and regain our lives."

We sat in silence for several moments, my arms around her protectively.

I quickly made the decision I had been debating internally over the last day. I had resisted it, attempting to push aside my growing feelings for Agathe.

Perhaps the fortune-teller had been wrong about Troy, just as she would be wrong about the woman I would marry. Perhaps she had not been. I could not know. I only knew what I wanted at that moment for me, future be damned.

I would take the risk of defying the fortune-teller's will. I instead, I would determine my own destiny. No, I would not be marrying an American redhead. I would instead marry a lovely, statuesque German brunette and she would be the one to bear my son. I would not foolishly lose Agathe again due to my inaction and an idiotic adherence to a prophecy that I had heard so long ago.

I turned Agathe to face me. I cupped her flawless face with my hands and tenderly kissed her on the lips. Taking her hands gently into mine, I looked deeply into her eyes.

"Agathe," I softly whispered to her.

"Hans?"

"Marry me when the war finally comes to a blessed end. I want you to become my wife when sanity returns."

Agathe pulled back from me. A look of surprise and confusion appeared on her lovely features. She did not speak for several seconds.

"I must ask you, Hans. Why me? And why ask me now? Why not wait until the war actually ends to propose?" She left unsaid the very realistic possibility of me being killed in combat in the meantime.

I was slightly taken back by her questions. Her response was different than what I had expected to receive from a woman to whom I had just proposed.

"Agathe, I want to share with you the future we are dreaming about. If only I had pursued you before the war, we would have had years together instead of only a scant few months. Things would have been different."

She nodded, but did not look convinced.

I thought about what reasons could be causing her reservations. Did she suspect what had happened to me by Guest? I was eager to dismiss her reservations. "Are you concerned my proposal is due to the passion and intensity of the war? And that I will rescind my proposal once our lives have returned to normal? If so, then let me tell you, nothing will change from what I feel for you at this moment."

"Oh, Hans, wars have a way of pushing couples apart after initially drawing them together. I've seen it before." Agathe shook her head. "I would never want you to have regrets or feel obligated to fulfill your promise to me."

I listened as Agathe voiced her concerns about my intentions. It gave me pause, and I asked myself if I was marrying her for the right reasons. Suddenly I remembered Irene stating that I would someday find the right woman.

But was I mistaken about Agathe being the right woman for me? Was I marrying her for the right reasons, because I loved her? Or was I marrying her as an attempt to remove me from the desires and doubts Guest had awakened within me?

"I have seen enough of death and destruction," I said, more to myself than to Agathe. "I look forward to spending a quiet life with you after the war. I look forward to learning how to live again. Agathe, I'm asking you to wait for me until we can put the horrors that we've seen behind us. Say yes and make me the happiest man alive," I begged her.

Suddenly, Agathe's face alit from within and her eyes sparkled. Then a smile that quickly appeared that made her unbelievably stunning.

"Hans, I will patiently wait for you if the war should last for the next decade." Agathe continued to smile. "My answer is yes!"

I pulled Agathe to me and kissed her passionately, never wanting to release her.

When we paused, I bowed over her hand. "I will formally ask your father for your hand in marriage and his permission to marry you the next time I return to Germany on leave."

Suddenly, she pulled away from me. I was taken back by her next words.

"I would prefer to keep our engagement a delicious secret, Hans, between just the two of us. I ask that you don't approach my family or inform yours. Besides, asking permission for marriage just isn't necessary in these modern times."

I was puzzled by her request. "I am a traditionalist, especially in a matter as serious as marriage. I would want to ensure we received your father's blessing of our union. Is there a reason why you desire the secrecy from our families?"

"I truly believe that you will honor your offer, but I don't want you to feel any familial pressure if you should grow to feel differently towards me. I want you to marry me because you love me, not because of any forced obligation."

I drew her to me, kissing her deeply again. I looked into her eyes and spoke sincerely.

"Agathe, my love for you will never change nor will my proposal. However, if this is what you desire, I shall honor your request. I will wait and remain faithful to you until we are married."

Sleep eluded me this evening. Normally, I collapsed and slept for hours when I was away from the front, especially after having hard sex with a woman over the course of several hours.

I kissed Agathe on the forehead and slipped from bed. I went to smoke on the small balcony of our room, looking out over the beautiful Mediterranean lit by the waning moonlight. I cursed the war for demanding my departure in the morning. I was envious of other men who had the luxury of staying with their loved ones as chaos descended upon the world.

I was emotionally and physically exhausted from the constant strain of events over the last few weeks. My next orders were returning me to France and I would again be assigned to Rommel's staff. It seemed as if my life was as much inter-twined with Rommel's as it had been with Troy's.

My thoughts drifted from the beautiful Agathe to somehow settle on Troy. I became angry at myself for allowing him to interrupt my intimate thoughts of my fiancée. Why did Troy always appear at the most inopportune moments in my life? I cursed him. It was bad enough on the battlefield, but even worse when I was with a woman.

At least my combat with Troy in the desert was over. Despite my bluff to Lenz, I didn't believe for an instant that he would be returned to the United States back to his ranching life of "hitting cows".

Troy's wounds were serious, but he would survive them and even overcome them. It was highly unlikely I would face him again in combat. Would Troy be reassigned in Europe or to the Pacific theatre? My analytical side told me it would be Europe, and eventually France. I also knew that Troy would be there for the final end of Germany in Berlin, just as he was for the Afrika Korps' end.

I wondered how our lives were still to be inter-twined in the future.

I tried to convince myself, Troy had departed from my life and would longer be a part of it. There would be no Troy in my future.

At that, I forced Troy from mind. He would not haunt my final moments with Agathe. I would not allow it. I would leave Troy and everything associated with him behind in the past, just as I had done with the desert.

I heard the soft step of Agathe's footsteps before her arms went softly around my waist, her hands slipping inside my robe.

"Wouldn't you rather join me in bed?" she purred before beginning to kiss my neck. "So I may give you something to cure your insomnia and abate your desire?" Agathe reached for my cigarette and took a deep drag on it before returning it to me. "Your passion continues to become stronger each time we are together. There is an edge and intensity that continues to grow."

"I was not with my future wife before," I easily lied to her. There was more to this explanation than I cared to admit. I took a final drag on the cigarette and then threw the half-smoked butt away. I turned to face her, gathering her nude body in my arms, the climbing geraniums offering us privacy from others. We were bathed in the moonlight's glow and she looked radiant.

"And if I am to come back to bed with you, what do you have in mind?" I asked her seductively.

"Use your imagination . . ." Agathe responded innocently, slipping off my robe. She began to lightly cover my chest with kisses as her hands caressed my body.

"I have quite an imagination," I said in a low voice. My hands traveled down her taut body, reaching her hips.

"Yes, you certainly do. I find your imagination very creative and exciting . . ."

"Then surprise me, Agathe darling. I want to always remember my final night with my future bride before I returned to combat."

I kissed her hungrily, roughly crushing her body to mine, my arousal and strong desire for her instantly returning.

I had no way of knowing but my passionate words to her were prophetic.