She Would Not Keep Him Away

They had met in the South of France, in a small resort where he had been working. The consultancy had engaged him to deal with a hotel business, in a client's group of companies, that were not reaching their performance targets. That a London-based company took him on had offered a return to the mainstream of life after a bruising and financially wasting divorce. He'd gotten through to better times and in doing so he had pursued a parallel life; on the one side was his knack for getting a project over the line and on the other, to act as discreet company for women who had become cynical of married life, were divorced or simply wanted to live out their days a little differently from their friends or what passed for 'normality'.

The trick in living that dual role, he had soon learned, was to never become emotionally involved with any of the women the agency, owned and run by Rebecca Lambert, referred him to.

Marie-Therese was not to learn of his 'assignments', back home, until they had drained a cocktail or two, seated on the terrace of the hotel he was staying at, a boutique place that was not in the group under scrutiny. He had not confessed to leading a double life outright, but how Marie had talked of her troubles and what she had sometimes resorted to in finding the particular company she wanted, had persuaded him to 'open up' on the other life he often led. That he had become attracted to the woman he saw before him had offered ample excuse to talk pursue matters further.

'I like the mystique of an arrangement I may choose to make with an agency I sometimes use, you understand?' she had smiled, slicked her lips suggestively with her tongue before she lifted her glass to her parted lips. She was flirty and suggestive, and she had also declined his suggestion that spend time together. 'The moment will come, Jake. Give me your card, please? I have a daughter who lives in England and I visit her...stay in a London hotel and not at her home. Her husband and I do not get on, so...so there it is.'

He had seen her nimble fingers, beautifully manicured, turn his card over and over. 'I have been with that agency for a year or so.'

'Then I may call them and say I have seen what others have written about you. There will be no photos, I suppose?'

'Now, there won't ever be a photo. What you see is what you get, Marie.'

They had parted at the end of the evening on the best of terms, but not as lovers. That, she had said on a parting kiss to his cheek, would have to wait.

♥

'You've been recommended to a new client...she's French!'

Becca had left the briefest of instructions, telling him it was a last-minute inquiry, an unknown referral, and a new assignment in every respect. The clients she had been enthusing over in previous calls were now more circumspect, and non-committal. Marie Therese Cassini had mailed Becca to request the services of someone that matched Jake's description and his attributes. She had accepted, telling their new client that the agency had a perfect escort to allocate to her.

Marie Therese had left an address, a hotel on Park Lane, London. The message had been delivered in a clipped tone and it said that she expected Jake to be there by mid-afternoon, that day. There was nothing more. He had dressed accordingly and now carried the soft, tan leather, bag that could be mistaken for a briefcase, its bulk giving no clue that its contents were more prosaic. They were always carefully checked, a packet of three condoms the first item to be packed. Along with them went a neat flat leather case for toiletries that he had purchased in Burlington Arcade on a last visit to town, and other essentials were carefully packed to maintain a well-groomed appearance. A neatly trimmed stubble beard testified to his virility.; Marie Therese had said as much his to him in the nearest thing to a compliment that he had heard from her when they had been together that evening three weeks ago. The travel pack included a pressed shirt and smaller items of clothing.

He did not feel out of place at all as he walked along the corridor to her suite and chuckled at the thought of what he had left behind only a few weeks ago, the conclusion of his work as a management consultant. No one was getting hurt by the life that he led and attendance on women was taken in his stride.

Marie Therese had a thin-lipped smile that revealed neat even white teeth, the work of an expensive dentist; from his initial impression of the woman. They were too youthful in the aging, narrow and pointed face of an ash blonde beauty, slender-bodied and firm-breasted, thanks to some cosmetic surgery that had not been resorted to on the rest of her. At their last meeting, he had taken her to be a woman of a certain age whose vivacious personality had to be coaxed into being seen. Her severely plucked, thin, eyebrows and dark mascara accentuated the slant of her penetrating blue eyes, disconcertingly direct in their quick reassessment of him. A thin, pointed nose completed the image of a haughty, seemingly unapproachable, woman whose slender, carefully tended figure, again held an immediate attraction for him. She had the softest of tans to her skin that had a seductive smoothness that he would be easily drawn to.

Marie Therese greeted him with an aloof, 'Bonjour,' but corrected herself. 'Hello, Jake.'

Her soft voice and accent appealed and, despite their long conversation weeks ago, and what he had imagined would be continued now, he answered politely, almost formally, taking the hand that she offered and bent to kiss it. The dab of perfume on her wrist was both expensive and exquisite; a silk dress lent refinement and revealed shapely, firm, breasts. defined Marie's shoulders and exposed a deep hollow at her throat; a string of pearls an added distinction. She brushed back her ash-blonde hair that he remembered from their first meeting.

Jeez, he was calling on a wonderful, mature, and captivating woman. How was he not to get involved with her and not break every rule? He was not meeting a matronly woman who required his attention, and yet she was playing the role of an 'ice-maiden', pretending not to be desirable or alluring or to keep his attention on the figure of the woman he had called upon. He drew a deep breath and kept hold of his heart, it seemed, from thudding to the floor.

'Is this a game we have to play out? We have met before and now we go a step further.'

'In my ways, Jake.'

He now knew why Becca had given few details of this particular assignment, or allocation as they were called by Becca. It was just another deal to her. He had to think quickly and consider. What was the next move to be?

Well, it was a case of acting out the part of a lifetime, so far. The metaphor was wearing a bit thin; he had felt this way before, every time he met someone new, a woman that he would never see again once the allocation was over. Would Marie-Therese be any different despite their meeting weeks ago? This was not likely to be the satisfying romp it had become with others. So, the only problem was...could he keep it up?

His reflective smile turned to a soft laugh.

'Is something wrong, Jake?' The lady arched her eyebrows and regarded him with a fixed stare. 'You have not said anything.'

'Pardon,' he bowed and gave her an impudent smile. Each situation needed a new approach. 'The desk was expecting me.'

Hell, what a thing to say, gauche, but he was floundering, wished to leave, but Becca had made clear that the address alone meant a decent pay-off. He would have to endure whatever awaited him.

'I told them that my 'husband was arriving, later.' She sat down on the large sofa and crossed her toned and slender legs. There was a smile on her thin lips, for the first time, as she gauged his reaction. Her voice was captivating, the dropped 'aitches' an endearing trait.

'May I get you a drink?' Jake offered with a smile.

There must be some redeeming feature in his predicament. Oh yes, the money. He was being paid for this allocation, so it was for better or worse.

'Yes, please, and do you need one?' She beckoned and held out her hands to him.

'No!' he laughed self-consciously, shaking his head, 'not for the reason you think, no.' He felt a gentle squeeze.

'Pour le courage?' she winked and gave him a mischievous grin that softened, for the first time, the hauteur that had dominated her expression. It was the start of a thaw, he hoped.

'No. An occasion such as this is nothing new for me,' he said to her across the room as he poured a glass of Champagne and returned and stood close to her, offering a fingertip caress to her cheek. 'I've not forgotten how you looked the last time we met. I wanted the woman that I saw then. Now I'm being gauche.'

'The feelings I have now are different for me too.'

Jake now took off his jacket and casually dropped it over a chair, conscious that the woman he was to pay court to followed every move that he made. The whole routine offered a welcome contrast to the perfunctory preliminaries that had so often been a part of other allocations.

'You have a certain Gallic look and good taste in clothes. I never know whom I may be with. 'Who', that is important in a man.'

Marie Therese had made her appraisal and he had passed one small test.

'Please, excuse me for my behaviour just now?' He touched her bare arm impulsively, applying the shortest stroke to the cool skin. Marie Therese did not respond to this advance.

'I 'ave done.'

She looked at him now as if to gauge the man before her again after an unexpected and considerate touch.

'You do not have the arrogance that I have seen with others, but then they were so much younger than you.'

There was again the flicker of a smile.

He only bowed his head for an instant in acknowledgment of the barb, if she had intended to deliver it. He would soon experience what his touches and remarks provoked in her. Until then, he realized that the thaw in these opening moments had been temporary.

'You could check and see if they have attributes worth rediscovering or to be preferred, even now.'

Calmly, he put his glass down on the ornate table before them.

'Not so hasty, Jake,' she said restraining him. 'There is such a thing as 'Vive la difference''? Her tone had melted again, just as quickly as his temper had risen.

'Are we talking about variety and it being called the spice of life?'

'That's quite so, Jake. You will know of this yourself, from the meetings you 'ave...with other women, yes?'

'They're not so many...'

'But enough for you, yes?'

She smiled engagingly, for the first time. The conversation had all the formality of an interview or a preliminary skirmish in an otherwise tense negotiation. He would refrain from confessing that she was only the sixth client of any true style that he had visited or with the income to merit the journey. The occasion now was unique; he had not attended upon a woman in such smart, even sumptuous, surroundings. He had indulged himself, taken the trouble of purchasing an expensive suit to acknowledge that this assignment, and its location, was a 'step up' to a new order of things.

'The expectations and the results, they remain the same whoever it is.'

Jake stood up and walked to the large window. Doing so offered respite, the chance to consider how to progress this particular rendezvous. He saw the traffic below his vantage point weave silent intricate patterns in the street.

'Your life has taught you that, Jake?'

'Episodes in my life...events in my life have.' He turned to her and smiled. 'It's not the time or place for a philosophical debate, is it? People don't always have to connect, or even do so... despite being 'close'.'

Her slender body was elegant, so slender if set or held against his powerful physique. She was like a bird in the hands of a giant. She had moved to stand beside him, her glass held elegantly between her extended neatly manicured fingers. He watched them stroke the frosted bowl.

'I don't believe so, Jake, what you say. You have to connect, in some way, not just in the physical sense, otherwise, everything is just...biologie?'

It was that voice, the accent, which softened her projection of cool remoteness, the unapproachable demeanour that had prompted the second thoughts. As she spoke Marie Therese gave a phlegmatic shrug of her shoulders, a typical gesture of acceptance if he decided to leave her.

'For me, it is as much about what goes on here...as in here.' He brushed his fingers lightly on her forehead then offered a gentle touch to her breastbone. 'That is who I am after all I've just said and you may have seen the last time we met.'

Marie Therese grabbed at the hand he rested upon her.

'There will be no sentiment between us in this arrangement, none at all!' She moved away from his touch upon her, a hand sweeping in a dismissive gesture. 'You are here for a few hours, then - phut! We are soon finished.'

Jake laughed, unintentionally, at the coarse image that came to mind of their coupling. He prevailed upon her once more and touched the necklace of pearls that hung onto her chest where there was so much to delight him. What he took to be a loose pendant of pearls dangled down, into the fold of her dress, between her firm breasts, the skin a soft golden brown.

'It goes around my waist; it was made especially for me. You will see.' There was now the curious beckoning grin, the lips drawn against her teeth. 'Are you not impatient to end this discussion?'

'Possibly,' he teased back and felt the nagging ache in his belly, the stiffening of his prick. He wanted the woman, just as he had done on first meeting her. 'I'm in no hurry unless you have the next rendezvous to consider.'

'That is later, much later, and if I am not pleased with what we find together. As for us, you and me 'ere together now, it is very simple isn't it Jake? I don't want any complications?'

'Yes, I understand.'

'You should, a man of your age and sophistication if I can call it that.'

It was not a description that he readily associated with himself, but he was watching and learning. Given time, he hoped, these encounters would become softer in context and not so brutally honest in their intent. It was a subterfuge to make this episode easier to accept and to help him see it through. The trouble was, he had to fancy the woman, or for her to have other redeeming features to occupy his thoughts as he made love to her. Marie certainly did.

'I know, Marie Therese, that it's to be a physical exchange nothing more.'

He did not look at her and now gazed out of the window; a dead pigeon lay in the well, behind the parapet wall.

'Correct,' she replied emphatically. 'You get money and I get you, for a while. No kissing, no tendresse, we simply 'ave a frisson, un grand plaisir. If you are good we do some more and you can try to prolong the plaisir.'

'I understand, Marie.' He turned to look at her and their eyes met.

'Marie Therese! I don't like my name being shortened. It is lazy; your language encourages that!'

Enough of this, Jake thought.

'Marie Therese, tell me? When do I get to see the rest of these pearls against your skin?' His fingers offered a tentative caress to her throat. 'What other jewels await me?'

She gave the smallest sign of acceptance and watched as his fingers now moved down over her arms and took hold of her tiny wrists.

'You understand how it must be, don't you Jake?' She stared at him; there was not a flicker of emotion to be found in them. 'Well?'

'It's not a problem, Marie Therese.'

He understood only too clearly; she expected sex without any emotional context; for him to manage that, the engagement would cost Marie Therese a lot more. As the teacher of that new trick, she would have to pay very well. He undid his tie and loosened the top buttons of his shirt.

'Good.'

'The only problem is...that I am not a machine,' he spoke out his concerns as she idly touched his exposed skin. 'You can buy those from someone else and close yourself off, completely.'

'I don't want, or pay, to have lectures,' she replied, averting her eyes from the uncompromising stare that he now gave her, 'nor do I wish to be changed.' She turned on her heels, kicked off her shoes, and began to walk to the bedroom. 'Come, no tenderness just your strength...show me something special.'

'That's extra,' he laughed and caught her hand to make her stop for a moment. 'Special treatment is only given if you understand that there is a bond between us. I'd have to look into your eyes...maybe kiss you...but you don't want that, you've told me.' Jake now moved his hands to her slender neck and caressed the smooth skin. 'You...don't want that, tendresse...do you?'

'Viens, you must be with me!' she gasped, shivering as his hands slid over her body, pressed between her legs, and rubbed the silk of her dress against her skin.

'In a moment, Marie Therese, in a moment.' He offered the lightest of kisses but she averted her face, such a show of intimacy not to be pursued.

'No...'

'There's to be none of that, Marie Therese, tenderness or concern, is there?'

'Persuade me...make me feel different...then, we'll see?'

'You want me to wait when you know that I want you?'

She waved airily over her shoulder before turning to him. 'Viens? Tu sais ce que je veux.'

Marie Therese moved away but paused once more, leaned against the bedroom door, and waited for him to draw near. There was no contact, initially, as Jake breathed on her lips; then, Marie Therese put her hands on his hips pulling him closer. She saw the fixed stare of his eyes, over her shoulders, towards the large bed with its heavy counterpane. He drew up her dress, felt under the hem, and touched her thigh. Stockings and even a garter! Soft silken skin between them and the thinnest covering to her fold moistened by his progressive caresses.

'Wait...a moment longer, Jake. I'll be with you in a minute or two.'

She slipped out of their embrace and became a lady who sought to look after herself and prolong the moment of seduction.

We are each playing a part, Jake smiled. This allocation was going to be interesting, a true debasement of all that he felt should pass between two people, so intimately joined. He could perform, imagine it was anyone else if necessary, just so long as he did not have to look into those seemingly emotionless and uncaring eyes. It was her means of defence against what she had aroused in him and that she sought not to concede to.

Why did she resort to these liaisons if this was how she felt and that he had not suspected, not even when they had met in that bijou resort hotel and flirted, no more? How was he to melt the heart of the ice maiden...or was it a matron dressed in her chic clothes, her carefully tended figure and hair, all revealing a worldly woman?

♠

By the time he left her, in the early evening, Marie Therese had known of his tenderness and much more. It had been a game that she enjoyed playing, making no effort to help or coax him into her arousal, in not giving any clue that she truly wished him to sleep with her. But the cool reserve and the indifference she had shown had soon been dispelled. He had been muscular in body and his taking of her, exercising supreme control until, at last, she had consented to see him -- face to face and naked in each other's arms.

She had relented, permitting him to hold her seemingly frail body to him, excited by the intense crush of his arms. She had come to him all right, kept her mouth to his lips, and sought no respite in their energetic movements that brought exclamations, cries of release, and a final groan of pleasured fulfilment; her wrenching claims upon him as he jabbed into her wrecking them for its intensity.