A cleverly disguised Kuryakin watched from across the street as his partner and 'that woman' entered L'hotel Chevalier Blanc.
Illya thought it ironic, the place being called 'the white knight' hotel. Yes Napoleon was indeed a white knight himself, but perhaps a bit tarnished when he was sleeping with the enemy, Angelique.
He had no ideas what Solo saw in that cow of a woman, and supposed, given Napoleon's over active libido, that this was merely a wanton act of lust.
Napoleon said it was undercover work (tongue in cheek of course) to see if he could glean any intelligence (an amusing thought) from Angelique.
Solo in turn would feed her false intelligence as well. It was all for naught as what she gave him was worthless, as what he gave her was as well.
Angelique peeked through the curtains of their hotel room, loosely wrapped in a bed sheet.
"Darling, Is that gendarme standing across the street that insufferable Russian partner of yours?"
"I have no idea; he is quite the master of disguise and can be quite unrecognizable at times….why don't you come back to bed; I'm feeling a bit lonesome."
Angelique remained at the window for a moment, and just for a brief second, she let the bed sheep slip...giving Kuryakin an eyeful, just to let him see what he was missing.
Not that she'd ever have sex with that insipid little Russian, but still one must be prepared for the most unpleasant of assignments.
She had a fleeting thought, despite her dislike for Illya, and wondered what it would be like to go to be with him? Rumor has it that people from his part of the world could be quite passionate...all those cold winter nights and such.
"Hmmm…" She put aside that titillating thought, coming back to the present; it was time for some lustful love making with Napoleon.