A lot of the readers of Rekindled Fire suggested there might be more to the story. Guess what? There was. Upon thinking about everything that Jack and Irina have gone through I decided there was more. :wub:
All characters belong to JJ Abrams.
B)
So I present...
A SEQUEL TO
REKINDLED FIRE.
LAURA DOESN’T LIVE HERE ANYMORE!
Irina sat up in bed. She felt her heart racing and looked around. There was no one else but her and Jack in the room. He was asleep, his face turned toward the dressing table. His breathing was steady and slow. She looked at the clock. They had gone to bed early and both had fallen asleep almost instantly. They’d had a long day sightseeing in Moscow and they had ended up at the General’s dacha outside the capitol. He invited them to go to dinner with him. That had been a long affair with the three of them consuming nearly an entire bottle of vodka.
What had awakened her? She got out of bed, pulling her robe over her naked body. She looked at Jack who was motionless. She stood staring at this man whom she had loved for so many years. She saw those stern lines around his mouth were more relaxed now than when she had seen him that day at the operations center those two years ago. Irina turned toward the kitchen, which was next to the living room. She would get a cup of tea.
Her hand was on the doorknob when she heard it again.
“Laura?”
She froze. Then turned around. It had been Jack. He was talking in his sleep. Her stomach turned as she closed the door, her mind racing and her heart pounding. Was he still in love with Laura? She had died in an auto accident in 1982. She remembered the second time she had seen Sydney at the Center. What had she said then? Irina stared without seeing at the kettle. Oh yes, Sydney had just returned from the mission to Helsinki. She had been tired.
“Laura Bristow died twenty years ago in a car accident. You are not my mother.”
The words had stung Irina with their coldness.
She put on the kettle to heat up the water. She took down a cup and got out the sugar and tealeaves. Why was Jack still thinking about the person she had pretended to be? The kettle whistled. She poured the water and waited for the tea to seep. She had buried her past. Some of it was too painful to keep inside. Her ability to do the highest level of meditation had made it easier.
Taking her cup with her, Irina walked into the living room and sat down. It was not light yet. She glanced at her watch. Five o’clock. She tucked her feet under her and studied the tea as if expecting some magical information to appear. There was nothing. Irina sighed. There was no magic answer. She would have to wait for Jack to tell her why after twenty-two years he was still thinking of her as Laura. As far as she was concerned, Laura was dead and had been since the accident. She finished the tea and decided to go running. There would be few people out. Maybe running would help clear her mind as to what she should say to Jack.
Jack opened his eyes and stretched. He reached out for his wife, but the bed beside him was empty. He sniffed. Nothing. No breakfast or coffee smells were emanating from the kitchen. He stood up and stretched again. He’d slept well, but then he always slept well next to Laura. He’d been putting on his robe when that thought occurred to him and he stopped, one arm in a sleeve, the other out. Laura? Why had he thought that name? He put the other arm in its sleeve, pulled the robe together and tied the sash.
He opened the door, frowning as he wondered if he had said her name out loud. Evidently, Laura had been on his mind. He headed for the kitchen, looking for Irina, but she wasn’t there. He saw a note on the table.
“Jack,” it read, “I’ve gone running. Will be back by six-thirty.”
That was okay, except yesterday she had awakened him to go with her. She had told him he needed to work off a little of his weight. He told her he would be happy to show her just how fit he really was and they had gone out for a three-mile jog. He was glad that Grigor was behind them in the Mercedes. Irina had offered him the use of the car on the way back, but he proved he was just as fit as he had said, although breathing a little heavier than she. So why had she gone without him today?
He looked around the kitchen. He found the coffee maker and then the coffee. As he waited for it to drip, Jack glanced at the clock. It was almost six thirty and time for her to return. He looked in the refrigerator for food. He could do eggs and toast again. He set the table. Coffee was done, so he poured himself a cup.
Damn, he thought, why had he been thinking of Laura? He wasn’t dreaming about her. He’d been dreaming about Irina and how she had changed. How he had changed. He wondered if she had noticed. Jack sighed and stood up. Maybe he’d have time to shower before she returned. She had promised to take him to #2 Dzerzhinskiy Square where her SVR office was located. He poured out another cup, stood up and walked back into their bedroom. Their bedroom! She told him the apartment was not just hers anymore, but now belonged to both of them.
“Since I am no longer able to be with you in the United States, this will be our home.”
He had protested, but she insisted. She was determined their relationship be on an equal basis. Yesterday she filed papers, changing the ownership of the building and apartment into the name of Mr. and Mrs. Jonathan Bristow. The clerk at the city property division had been surprised, especially after Irina had produced her identification card. Of course, knowing she was a Colonel in the Sluzhba Vneshney Rasvedki had a lot to do with the quickness with which her request was handled. Still the clerk had been extremely curious about the two of them. It was obvious he was an American.
Sipping his coffee, Jack entered the bathroom. He reached into the shower and turned it on, then put the cup down and removed his robe. He looked at his reflection in the mirror and snorted. What fat? He thought he looked in good shape for a fifty-five year old man. He grinned to himself, remembering their lovemaking their first night and the next day. Even with a twenty-year absence, he had given her everything she wanted as she had him. Neither, it seemed, had lost their desire or their fire and love. What she had done, though, still haunted him at times. Sometimes in his dreams he saw Laura with Sydney. He remembered how much she seemed to love their little girl. Little by little, however, he’d begun to understand everything and his hatred was being overcome by forgiveness. It was something he’d never considered until recently.
He started, realizing he’d been standing looking in the mirror that was now hazy with steam coming from the shower. He turned and entered. As he soaped himself he chuckled thinking how different the Russians were when it came to getting into a shower. Irina always started with cold water, then hot and ending with cold again. She said it made her brisk.
He felt air on his back. He turned around to see Irina, naked, step inside, a slight smile on her face. She was sweaty and breathing hard.
“You’re late,” he said.
“You started without me,” she answered. She took the soap from him and began soaping herself all over, her eyes never leaving his.
He watched appreciatively, the lathering she gave to her lean, hard body. She was still so beautiful to him. Age had added a few lines and gray hairs, but they were a graceful addition to her. Water cascaded over his back, as he leaned forward and kissed her, hard. The soap dropped to the floor as she responded.
“I love you,” he said quietly, then kissed her again. “Let me,” he said, picking up the soap. He lathered her back, buttocks and thighs. His large hands roamed freely over her. Then, to her obvious delight, Jack took the bottle of shampoo sitting in the corner of the shower, poured some into his hand and began shampooing her luxurious chestnut brown hair. She closed her eyes, leaning into him. He moved around to the front of her, letting the water hit her. She raised her hands to help rinse the shampoo away.
He kissed her nipples, her neck and turned her to kiss her shoulders and then her back, letting his hand roam over her breasts and down the front of her abdomen. She moaned. Jack grinned, even though she could not see him. She squirmed, breathing hard. He ran his hands now through her hair, making sure all the soap was gone, but also massaging her scalp.
She leaned forward on her hands, her head directly under the stream of water. She reached for the cold. He stopped her.
“A cold shower is not what I had in mind,” he whispered.
They made love then as daylight became brighter. Finally, Irina lay contentedly in Jack’s arms. She felt so comfortable and, she smiled, fulfilled. His left hand rested casually on her hip, stroking it. She was facing him, using her left hand to stroke the lines on his face. They seemed softer now, making him less stern, less forbidding.
“Jack, you’ve not told me what happened to you when --” she paused, “when I left you and Sydney. I think it’s about time.”
He looked at her. His mouth tightened and his eyes grew distant as he remembered those awful days. “I didn’t go through what you did,” he said.
She put her left hand on his lips. “It doesn’t matter who went through the most. I want to know about you. Until I was brought to the operations center, I didn’t know where you were or what you were doing the past twenty years.”
He took a deep breath. “The F.B.I. decided I might be a conspirator. They put me in prison and in solitary. I underwent extensive questioning.”
“What, no unrestricted interrogation?” She said perhaps a little too sarcastic. Then she saw the look on his face. “Oh Jack, I’m sorry.” She leaned forward and kissed him gently on the cheek.
He sighed. “I can see your point of view.” They both were thinking about her visits to Camp Harris and what she had gone through with the CIA’s chief interrogator.
“How did you get free?”
“Some friends in the CIA, including Arvin.” He paused, thinking. “It was about then Arvin decided he’d had enough of the government’s bureaucracy. He had become fascinated by Rambaldi and wanted to learn more about him. He told me that he was going to join up with The Alliance and wanted me to join him too.”
She sat up. “Is that when you became a double?”
He nodded. “I told the CIA about his offer. They told me to go with him. They wanted to know what he was up to and I was their only way to get the information. It was kind of them saying if I didn’t, they would have to let me go. It was too risky for them to keep me.”
“What happened to Sydney? Who took care of her?”
Jack closed his eyes. “I hired a nanny for her. I had some money, you know. We were saving for a larger home. If I remember right, some of the money was yours.”
She winced, saying, “It was all yours after –“ She didn’t finish.
“Anyway,” he continued, “I made arrangements with my bank to pay the nanny and for her to have money for food and other necessities. Emily took an interest in Sydney too. I was always grateful to her for that – and Sloane too.”
Irina didn’t say anything. She was aware of how much Sloane “loved” their daughter. There had been something different about him, as Sydney grew older. She didn’t however discuss this with Jack, as he was Sloane’s best friend. Irina decided to keep this fear from Jack, as she doubted if he would even believe it.
At the same time, she had to deal with her own “job’s” danger and more fear than she wanted to have. She and Jack had been married ten years. That had been a long time to be a spy in such a sensitive and intimate relationship. Her love was growing for both her daughter and her husband. It was causing her to weigh the consequences of her being “pulled out” by the KGB or giving herself up.
“Did Sloane go with them?”
Jack looked at her surprised. “No, I don’t think so. He was working and getting ready to pull out of the CIA. He had a lot on his mind. No, Emily was the one who took Sydney places.”
“So how did they prove you weren’t Laura’s conspirator?”
He was surprised by the use of her married first name. “Records of your flights to and from cities where the killings took place were analyzed. I was pretty much on duty and in place at the office most of the time. And,” he paused, “six of the agents killed, I had no connection with in any way. It just took my friends a little time to check all the facts. Once they had everything perfectly laid out, they went to the F.B.I. and it was resolved. They let me go.”
She looked at him sadly, “I hope some day, you can forgive me for doing a job that was becoming increasing difficult for me. I told you that the illusion of our marriage was slowly dissolving. It was becoming more and more real. That night in Hawaii, when Sydney was conceived, was the beginning. If the FBI hadn’t – “ She left the rest unsaid, as he understood.
“Jack, it’s getting late.” She moved off the bed. “You get dressed and I’ll make some breakfast.” She threw on her robe and left the room.
Jack had the uncomfortable feeling that there would be more conversation about their past. She hadn’t finished. There was something else on her mind. He dressed quickly and walked to the kitchen. She had a plateful of scrambled eggs and black bread, which she had toasted and buttered. A new cup of coffee was poured. He sat down reaching for the toast.
“I’ll get dressed and be with you shortly.” She left him.
Ten minutes later as he finished his coffee and third piece of toast, Irina returned. She wore comfortable clothes: black pants, red Cossack blouse, and black boots. She had brought out a coat and hat, which she had thrown over the chair near the door. She poured herself another cup of tea, picked up the last piece of toast and ate quickly. Her cell phone rang. Jack kept her from answering it. He picked it up instead.
“Jack Bristow.” There was a twinkle in his eyes as he watched her. There was evidently silence at the other end. “Jack Bristow. Can I help you?” He laughed, answering in Russian. “Do you want to speak to my wife?” He handed her the cell, chuckling.
She blushed. “Derevko.” She listened a moment. Then said in Russian, “I’ll be there in twenty minutes.” She folded the phone and laid it next to her plate. “Something’s come up. Go to the window. See if Grigor is there.” He was, so the pair of them left the apartment.
Grigor had a big grin on his face when he saw them leave the building. He hurriedly opened the rear door. Irina smiled as Jack threw a fake punch at the big Russian’s abdomen.
“Mr. Jack look very happy.”
Jack grinned back at him. He enjoyed talking to the big man and he was aware that when he wasn’t with the woman he loved, Grigor would be there to protect her. “I am.”
Grigor drove quickly into the Kremlin and to Dzerzhinskiy Square. Irina had brought Jack a badge, which he was to give to the guards who would stop them. Jack made sure he had his passport handy too. It was stamped with a special pass that would allow him inside the SVR headquarters. At the gate, Irina handed her ID card to the guard. Jack was asked to step outside the car. Both Irina and Grigor watched in amusement as two guards gave him a thorough security check.
Jack chuckled. He was in a good mood. Nothing could irritate him today. He went along with whatever SVR wanted. Finally, they let him return to the car. Grigor pulled into the parking spot assigned to Irina. He held the door for them both and they walked to the entrance where this time Jack had only to show his papers before being passed through.
They went up in the elevator to the fifth floor. The men and women who inhabited the floor during the day were staring at the couple as they proceeded to her office. Some were smiling and others were staring suspiciously, wondering why the Colonel was bringing him here. None, however, were going to say anything to her or to anyone else. Derevko was regarded as the most daring and successful black ops agent Russian intelligence had ever had. She had run a crime cartel under orders from her government and had destroyed several other Russian criminal organizations. How she had accomplished that was not known. Rumor had it she had turned over millions of dollars to the government. Money she had taken from the other crime syndicates.
“Jack, do you mind waiting here for a few minutes?” She smiled.
“Of course not.” He looked around for a chair. There was one near Sophie’s desk. “May I?” He asked her in his best Russian.
Sophie regarded him with wide eyes, nodding. She busied herself with the incoming mail and tried to read it while sneaking glances at the handsome American. Some of the history of Irina and Jack had come across her desk. She was absolutely thrilled now to see him up close. One thing she knew was that Irina loved her husband. She had told Sophie that if she heard any gossip about them, she would fire her. So as much as Sophie would have loved to talk, she didn’t. Colonel Derevko was not to be disobeyed.
Jack spent the next thirty minutes watching and being watched. A succession of men, some in uniform and some not, entered and left Irina’s office. Sophie had gone in a couple of times and returned with orders. She was careful not to look at him, but Jack didn’t mind. What he saw reminded him of the CIA in Langley.
Irina’s door opened and Grigor beckoned to him. “She’s say come in, Mr. Jack.”
He jumped up and entered through the door. Grigor walked over to where Irina was sitting and stood facing the window. Jack was surprised. Why was he doing that?
Then he smiled at her. “Business taken care of?”
“Yes, but I have something to share with you.” She motioned him to her computer. “Sloane has been sighted.”
“What?” Jack leaned over her shoulder. He looked at the map on the screen. “Where?”
She used the cursor to show him. “In eastern Kashmir in the mountains near China. We don’t have any agents there to check this out. How about the CIA?”
“You’re asking for help?” he said with a little sardonic lilt.
She turned to look at him sharply. “Sloane is someone both our countries need to track down.”
Jack’s face became serious, “Of course. I‘ll have to check to find out if we have someone in place nearby. I know we have men in Pakistan and in Afghanistan. Can I use your computer?”
“Hummm? Yes, but let me put you on a secure line. Just turn around for a moment.”
He laughed and turned as she quickly entered her password and a message. “It’s yours,” she said, getting up from the chair. “I’m going out to talk to Sophie. Take your time.”
As she walked to the door, Grigor followed. He stepped directly behind her. He was big enough that Jack could not see Irina at all even as tall as she was. He paused, his hands over the keys as he realized what Grigor was doing. He was her bodyguard in every sense of the word. She would never be assassinated in her office. Jack started typing quickly. He glanced at his watch. The message would arrive on the night watch at Langley.
He typed the message using a special password that would identify him. He kept the message simple asking: Do we have any agents in place in Kashmir or Nepal?
Ten minutes later, the answer came back. “No!”
Then he typed, “do we have satellite coverage of both Kashmir and western China?”
Ten minutes later, the answer came back. “No. Why?”
He typed “Arvin Sloane has been sighted somewhere in the area.”
Five minutes later a response came up on the screen. “We can make arrangements for a course change. Give us the closest coordinates.”
Just then, the door opened. Irina entered followed by Grigor. Jack turned and smiled at her. “Do you have any co-ordinates of the sighting: city, place anything?”
Irina shook her head. “Someone thought they saw him in Khalatse, a city near Leh. It’s right near the border and a very sensitive area for India. Of course the operative word is ‘thought’.” She stared at him. “Should we send someone to check this out?”
Jack closed his eyes for a moment, thinking. “Do you have any operatives that speak the dialect there? It’s an extremely sensitive area, actually more like volatile. I wouldn’t think Arvin would headquarter himself where he might be seen or even recognized. Foreigners would stand out like a sore thumb. Still he thinks outside the box. That’s why we’ve had a hard time finding him.”
She stared at the computer screen, and then quickly typed something onto it. “I think we might be able to get someone inside that doesn’t speak the language – a tourist.”
He walked over to her desk and looked at the computer. They watched as it filled with the information Irina was looking for in the travel section. “There’s nothing offered from our country.”
“Try the U. S. We have an awful lot of people who like to travel to odd spots on the globe.” He gave her the search engine to use. “Try Google.com.”
In a few minutes, they had successfully tracked down several tours into the area around Leh in the northeastern part of India. There was a travel agency located in Washington D.C. Jack sat down and typed a quick note to the Deputy Director of Operations he would be replacing in a few days.
He got up and looked at his wife. “O.K. I think he can take it from here. I’ll ask him to forward a copy of any reports he gets to your personal email.”
“Is that wise? Too many snoops around.” The word sounded funny with her slight accent.
He chuckled, then leaned close to her, whispering, “Does that mean Sophie?” He glanced behind him, but Grigor was standing looking out the window, keeping Irina’s back covered. “I’ll send you the information when I get home. Do you have an encrypted address?” He rubbed the back of her neck, then kissed it.
“Jack,” she said, her breath quickening. “Not here.”
Grigor laughed, causing both of them to look at her bodyguard. Obviously he had overheard enough to know what might be going on behind his back. Irina reddened and began to read some more reports from the stack on her desk. Jack returned to the chair in front of her.
Smiling to himself, he considered how things had changed. He was going to be the new DDO, which meant he oversaw all foreign counter- intelligence work. He only reported to the Director of the CIA. He would be the one to set up “games” against all foreign countries, including Russia. And he was married to their Deputy Director of Operations, Irina Derevko. The irony was hard to contemplate or to believe. Furthermore, she was slated to become the Director of the First Directorate when her father, General Mikhail Probukov, retired and that looked like it would be soon.
He remembered when Devlin, who he was replacing, first told him Irina Derevko had given herself up. What emotions he had at the mention of her name. He had hated her so much that he had almost quit for fear he would do something awful, something that might put him in prison again. His mind took over and he forced himself to stay calm, deadly calm, in an effort to keep Sydney away from her mother. Of course he had tried to set her up, but that had failed, mainly because Vaughn was such a moralist. Jack had often wondered why he worked for the CIA.
Now he sat across the desk from this utterly delightful love of his life. He had never loved another woman, but Laura, no – Irina. He frowned. Why was he thinking about Laura? He was falling in love with someone else. Someone who was like Laura, but in this world, was not! He could see Laura. He had such a mental picture of her that she seemed real, just as Irina was now. Jack felt his heart racing. Then it seemed to flutter. He looked at Irina. She was busy reading. He felt a peculiar sensation. He was looking at a woman, who was a ghost. That ghost inhabited his mind, his thoughts both day and night. “I wonder,” he thought, “if I talk in my sleep? I’ll have to ask her.”
They lunched in a small restaurant that Irina liked. The manager had welcomed her as a long, long friend. They dined on black bread, freshly baked, and borscht also freshly made. Jack had to admit it was the best he had ever tasted. He told the manager and the waiter to give his compliments to the cook.
Irina had taken the afternoon off, so they decided to walk back to the apartment. Grigor, of course, was close by. It was a gloomy day. The weather report stated that heavy rain would occur in the evening and during the night. However, they expected clearing tomorrow and the forecast called for plenty of sun for the next three days.
“Jack,” Irina stopped and turned to look at him. “I would like you to marry me again, but this time I want to use my real name.” She studied his face, almost holding her breath.
“Why?”
“Because Laura doesn’t live here,” she touched her heart, “anymore. She’s dead. I’m alive and I love you, Jack Bristow, as much as any woman could love a man.”
People were staring at the couple. They were impeding progress along the street. The two were oblivious, of course, of anyone but each other. Her eyes searched his face for the answer. He was staring at her, and then he smiled and took her in his arms and kissed her. Someone close by whistled.
“I think that’s the best proposal a man could get.” He kissed her lightly on the cheek. “How soon and where?”
“The day after tomorrow.” She smiled, turning and taking his arm. “We must hurry and get the license though. The registrar’s office will only be open until three.”
Two hours later Grigor drove up to City Hall. Irina had told him to bring the car. They were going out to her father’s dacha for dinner. Then they both told the big bodyguard what was going to happen in two days. He was a little confused as he thought they were already married. They explained and he chuckled approvingly.
That night Jack solemnly asked the General if he would give his daughter away on Saturday. The General had been surprised, thinking the same thing as Grigor. “Aren’t you married?”
“Yes, Papa, but as Laura.” She answered. “I want to be Mrs. Irina Bristow. I want it to be Jack and Irina, not Jack and a ghost.”
“Then by all means, I give her to you Jack and good riddance.” He laughed. “Good thing, Aleksey is here. He can be Best Man.”
“Oh Jack, Sydney?” She thought of their daughter.
“Let’s call her.” He took her hand and walked outside, the General following. It was starting to rain and with the storm clouds, he wondered if the call would get through. He punched in the number for Langley. He knew Sydney was ending her career there since Vaughn was now stationed at headquarters. He had a videophone, so he turned the cell so that it faced the two of them.
Moments later, they heard someone say “Hello?” They waited for her to realize there was a video. “Hello?” Sydney’s face appeared on their tiny screen. She smiled when she saw the pair of them. “Mom? Dad? What’s happening?”
“Sydney,” said Irina, “your father and I are going to remarry day after tomorrow.”
“And,” added Jack, “we want to know if you and Vaughn can come?”
“It’s short notice, I know, sweetheart,” said Irina, “but we had to ask?”
“Of course, I’ll come. How romantic.” Sydney started to sniffle. “Let me work things out. I’ll call you back in two hours.”
“Fine,” said Jack. “We’ll await your call.”
The civil wedding took place on Saturday afternoon. Aleksey was the Best Man and Sydney, the Maid of Honor. The General grinned the entire time. His heart he told Grigor later was bursting with happiness. Of course, Grigor was there as well as Sophie, Irina’s Secretary, who had orders to tell everyone back at the office all about it. The women wanted to know about clothes; the men about the dinner after.
Jack wore his dark navy suit with a small boutonnière and Irina had on a red dress, her favorite color, with heels to match. Technically, they were married, so Irina said no to wearing white. She carried a small bouquet of flowers. Sydney wore a green silk dress and carried a small bouquet. She had asked Vaughn to come, but he refused stating he had too much work to do. Sydney didn’t press him, as she knew he still had too many issues with Irina. Someday the two would work things out.
The General had insisted on hosting the dinner afterward. He was, after all, father of the bride. He planned the dinner and the place. When they arrived at the address he had given them, they found half the office staff from Irina’s floor was there and they all had gotten a head start on the vodka.
As Irina and Jack entered they were greeted with whistles, shouts of congratulations and there was loud dance music from a band the General had hired. As both Jack and Sydney spoke excellent Russian, no one was hard pressed to remember English. There were not many women present, so Sydney was kept busy dancing with one after another of her mother’s SVR department employees. Jack and Irina did not try to catch up with the guests’ drinking.
When they finished dinner, they bid the General and Sydney goodnight and left with Grigor who would drive them home in her black Mercedes limousine. He would be going back to bring Sydney when she was ready. Irina sat with her head on Jack’s shoulder and he had his arm around her. They said nothing, each with their own thoughts.
Then Irina sighed, “Grigor, shut the window.”
He did. She turned to Jack. “Is she still here?” She put her hand over his heart.
“Who?” Then he realized whom she meant – Laura. “No, my darling. She doesn’t live here anymore.” He put his hand over hers. “And not here either,” he added, touching his head. “The memory has died. Instead, you are in my dreams.” He kissed her hard as the car drew up to their apartment.
They stood outside the apartment door. Jack held her hand as he punched the date they had mutually agreed upon earlier. As the door lock clicked, Irina pushed it open, but before she could move, he had swept her up into his arms and carried her over the threshold. She laughed at the decidedly old-fashioned idea of the groom carrying his bride into their home.
“Something I had to do, dearest.” He said when she looked at him quizzically.
He set her down and shut the door. “Some tea?” He said. She smiled and pulled him into the kitchen. He watched her get the cups and saucers down. The sugar and cream put into their containers. She scooped out some tealeaves and put them into her very old teapot. It was made of fine china and she said it belonged to her grandmother. Her parents had kept it after the very old lady died. It was over a hundred years old at least. It was a treasured heirloom, which she had kept hidden from prying Party eyes.
In minutes, the tea had seeped and was poured into their cups. Jack kicked off his shoes as Irina had done as soon as she stepped into the apartment. She sat opposite him and they looked at each other. The silence was welcomed after the raucous afternoon and evening.
“I wish you didn’t have to go back.” She said quietly, looking into her teacup. She lifted it, looking at him with such sadness.
“You Russians,” he said, shaking his head. “We’ll find a way to be together. We could always meet half way – London, Paris?”
“Yes, I suppose we’ll have to do that, but I like the idea of having you next to me at night.” She put the teacup down, then smiling, said seductively, “Let me take off your clothes.”
He grinned, stood up and they walked out to the bedroom. She stopped him at the door and undid his tie, then his belt. She removed his jacket. The chair next to the door received those items. Irina kissed him, as her long fingers undid his shirt buttons. Then she pulled him slowly toward the bed. There, she unfastened the cufflinks off the shirt and dropped them on the bedside table. She kissed the inside of his hands one after the other. Moving behind him, she pulled off his shirt. She ran her hands up under the undershirt he wore, feeling the hard muscles of his back.
“Irina --?” He closed his eyes, feeling the pleasure she was giving him as he had done to her so many times in the past.
She gently pulled the shirt off. She leaned forward, licking his nipples, stroking his back. He pulled her chin up and kissed her. “Don’t take too long,” he whispered. She was so beautiful, he thought.
Irina’s hands went to his pants and she drew the zipper down slowly, looking up at him. He was breathing hard. She slowly drew the pants down, stopping once to kiss him on the inside of his right thigh. He stepped out of his pants. Now he was wearing only his boxers. She unsnapped the button at the waist and they dropped to the floor. She looked at him and smiled. “There, my darling, undressed and – ready.”
Jack’s hands turned her around. He unzipped the red dress, drew it up over her head. He stopped. She was wearing no bra and no panties. He tossed the dress into the corner. She turned into him, “Surprise!”
