Honor gave in to the impulse and brought them to a stop before they left the cloakroom so she could kiss him and lick around his lips again, easily because her ridiculously high heels made it unnecessary to go on her tip-toes. She had 'cleaned' him up before they left the cloakroom, using her tongue to eliminate any trace of her cum and his from his member, and she imagined she could taste it all on her tongue as she laved it over his amused lips.

She was still pouting because she hadn't wanted to leave the cloakroom quite yet, but, as he quite reasonably pointed out as he kissed her bared breasts, he was one of the co-hosts of the event, and his people were certainly already looking for him. Although, given his very noticeable companion's absence along with him, many of the attendees would be able to hazard a guess at what, or who, had taken him away from his own party.

Much to her gratification, Marq was apparently as anxious to leave for the hotel as she was, and he stood to say his farewells as soon as it was polite, leaving the newly announced executives of the newborn Phoenyx Elektronik to bask in the aftermath of a successful launch of their new company.

She spent the drive back to the Grand Imperial on his lap, wearing nothing but her chain and shoes, silent as Marq wordlessly undressed her and removed the mask from her face even before Mongkhut had pulled out of the conference centre's massive compound.

She had also said nothing when he had stopped and pulled her to him earlier, at exactly where she had met him at the top of the staircase into the Conference Center. There, in public, he had kissed her, his hands grasping the bared skin of her hips, and then, as she breathlessly stared up at him, pouting for another kiss, he had unhooked the tiny bandeau and taken it off her body. She had shivered at the sudden sensation of the evening air on her suddenly uncovered breasts, brown tips already hardening to point at him.

He kissed her again, this time holding her breasts and stroking his fingers over her nipples, making her hiss with pleasure.

Honor suspected that the mask had a lot less to do with her lack of shame than her already made decision to be his odalisque, to completely dedicate herself to his pleasure. Modesty was explicitly not a part of that arrangement. So she had walked down the staircase with him, her jiggling breasts and the chains grasping her nipples proudly bared to the night, pushing aside the scandalized stares that followed her.

That she would soon be completely nude was a foregone conclusion. Every womanly instinct screamed it as he looked with barely controlled hunger at her, and she only wondered, only slightly apprehensive, if it would happen before or after they got to the car. Thankfully, Marq had been thorough in saying his farewells and no one interrupted them, and she made it into the car still clothed, if barely.

He began to masturbate her as soon as he pulled her naked body unto his lap, her squeal of delight helping him find the proper rhythm for his fingers as they stroked between her spread legs. His mouth did not remain idle as he attacked her lips, her neck, her breasts. It wasn't long before she squealed against his marauding lips, going stiff in his arms, shuddering wildly as a gush of liquid escaped her slit, soaking his fingers, creating a familiar large wet patch on his pants.

He held her as she came, and then he did it again, stroking her at a slower, crueler pace. And she cried out and squirted again, soaking him and his pants even more.

She didn't give him the opportunity to try for a third time; she got off him, going to her knees on the car floor, her hands attacking his belt and buttons. She made a growling, hungry, angry sound as she yanked down his pants and underwear in one go, forcing him to lift his butt off the seat with an amused sound as she uncovered his cock. She let out another growl as she swallowed him into her mouth, his chuckle swiftly transforming into a loud gasp of pleasure.

She neither knew nor cared how long she spent on her knees in front of him, stroking and sucking his cock as Mongkhut drove them through the Thai capital city, hearing only his sharp breathing and feeling the repeated stiffening of his body as she pleasured him, his quiet gasps of enjoyment guiding her as he rapidly grew to full hardness.

He stopped her suddenly, her cry of protest ignored as he pulled her up. He captured her lips as he brought her over his erection, her complaint abruptly silenced as she realized what he wanted, the casual display of masculine strength as he lifted her in place sending a familiar disturbing surge of aroused heat through her. She shook as he deliberately entangled his hands in her nipple chains, clutching at him and moaning against his mouth, not breaking the kiss as he sank her down on his cock.

He finally let go of her lips, his presence inside her coupling with the tugs on her nipple chains, making her squirm on top of him.

She started to ride him as he grasped her breasts again, gasping as she slid him in and out of her body.

He growled, his hands leaving her breasts to grasp her hips, holding her still.

"Don't move," he growled. He brought her head down and kissed her again, hard. "Don't. Move."

She obeyed, stilling, her confusion plain as she looked at him.

He pulled her head down again, his mouth inches from hers. "Just let me be inside you, Miss Banet."

She ignored the dangerous surge of emotion that flooded through her then, crowding it out of her mind as she leaned forward the rest of the way, capturing his lips with hers. "Anything you want, Mr. Haydn," she whispered afterward.

'Just' having him inside her turned out to be not quite as easy as it sounded. It took less than a minute for her to realize that keeping still was going to be impossible, especially since he made no effort to keep his hands, or lips, to himself.

To be fair, neither did she. She kissed and licked at him, touching, caressing, grasping, reciprocating ... retaliating.

The nipple chains had slipped off at some point, and she cried out, spasming as he used his teeth and then his tongue over her still rudely pointing nipples. She moaned and surrendered her neck to him as he cupped her breasts and licked and kissed his way up to her lips, squirming and grinding on him as he made his way along the sensitive arch of her throat with his tongue, meeting her parted lips before repeating the same mesmerizing circuit back to her nipples.

She was on the brink and desperate when he returned to her lips, and she put her hand between them, between her legs, feverishly questing fingers finding the erect nub of flesh over her slit, stroking, pressing, and then shrieking as she released another gush of liquid from her opening.

She found herself collapsed weakly on top of him when she came back to herself, his arms wrapped around her heaving naked body, his cock still wonderfully, deliciously sheathed and full inside her.

She gazed at him wordlessly for a long moment, before she started bouncing on him.

Or, at least, she tried to.

He stopped her, again, holding her waist. "No, Miss Banet."

Her mouth fell open, eyes opening wide, incredulous. "You want me to just sit here? Like this?" She glanced down at where they were conjoined, feeling her face burn at the liquid mess.

"Yes, Miss Banet." he responded, "Why not?"

She stared at him, her expression a mix of confused amazement and lip-parted arousal, until he brought her head down and kissed her again, long, slow and exploring.

When the kiss finally broke, she was even more breathless, remembering him just keeping his member inside her on the barge from Ayutthaya, remembering the slave girl's mentor in the movie 'sitting still' on her beloved Emperor, and also thinking, 'Why not?'

But she had to say it; "You're a very, very odd man, Mr. Haydn."

He grinned. "Thank you, Miss Banet."

She sniffed, furling her lip. "That wasn't a compliment."

He raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"

She leaned down and kissed him. "It's a statement of fact."

He grinned. "I can accept that."

She looked down at him again, finding that she was moving on him as she sat up, unconsciously grinding on him, rolling her hips in an achingly slow belly dance, making him move inside her.

"Can I do this?" she asked.

He nodded after a moment, and she smiled indulgently as he cupped her breasts, amused by his all-too-male obsession with them as he fondled and weighed them in his hands, sucking in her breath as he teasingly played with her still-pointing nipples.

"Can I do this?" he asked.

She nodded, biting her lip at the sparks of sensation, leaning into his hands.

A minute later, she did something else, smiling evilly as he let out a gasp, feeling him shake as she repeated the kegel squeeze around his cock. "Can I do this?"

He grasped her hips. "No, Miss Banet."

Her grin went wider as she squeezed again. "You can't stop me, Mr. Haydn."

The predatory glint was back in his eyes as he roughly brought her down and kissed her.

Her grin was still in place when he released her, and she squeezed him again.

This time, she didn't get any reaction. None at all. "No fair!" she pouted.

Which led to another slow exploring, breath stealing, kiss.

She was still moving on him, and squeezing him, when he let her go. "So we're just going to stay like this until we get to the hotel?"

"Is that a problem, Miss Banet?" he asked.

She smiled. "No, Mr. Haydn."

In fact, she found that she was curious about it: could she really stay on his cock, for the entire ride to the hotel? Just how long could she keep Marq Haydn inside her? Why not find out?

He matched her smile as he brought her head down again.

There wasn't much talking for a while as he kissed and explored her body, and she moaned her enjoyment as she kissed and touched him back, surrendering to the pleasure of just having him inside her, touching her, to being his odalisque.

The car was still making its way through nighttime Bangkok, taking the free way along the Chao Phraya, and she could see the lit up Wat Arun in the distance as she leaned back to let him play with her breasts, crying out quietly as he licked and sucked on the swollen brown nubs that continued to rudely point at him.

"So what did you think of the launch?" he asked.

She gave him a curious look, breathless from both the assault on her nipples, still wet and shiny from being in his mouth, his heavy presence in her pussy, and confusion at his strangely sudden desire for conversation.

"You really want to talk about that now?" she asked.

He smiled. "Why not?"

She shook her head. "Again, you're a very, very odd man, Mr. Haydn."

His smile became wider. "Again, thank you."

Honor squeezed him, and grinned as he stiffened in reaction, confirming her suspicion, his discipline broken as she caught him off-guard.

He grasped her waist, conceding. "Well? What did you think?"

"You really want to know?" she asked.

His hands began to stroke up her belly. "I value your opinion, Miss Banet."

The rush of warmth that suffused her made gathering her thoughts somewhat difficult, not to mention his presence inside her and his hands being effective distractions on their own. So she simply told the truth. "I thought it was a great presentation."

"Really?"

"Yes. I even got some of the techie nerdy automotive stuff," she confirmed, sincerely. "Helios and Nomi are very lucky you came along. Especially Helios."

He smiled at her, all the way up to his eyes. "Thank you, Miss Banet."

She kissed him. "You're very welcome, Mr. Haydn."

There was no talking for a while.

Until he held her waist, slowing her for the umpteenth time. "I saw you talking. To David Brenner."

Honor froze, staring at him. He was inside her and she was shamelessly naked and writhing on top of him in a moving car, and he wanted to talk about another man? "You want to talk about ... about David? Now?"

"Yes," Marq said.

He grasped her breasts, making her arch forward as she was forced to replay the encounter with her fiancee in her mind.

She had needed something to drink when they made it back to the hall after their adventure in the cloakroom. She had worn back her mask and dress in the darkness, only becoming aware of how the sheen of moisture on her skin made it stick and cling to her body as they exited the cloakroom.

He noticed, and she was kissed hungrily for it, and she had the sudden premonition that his next choice of dress for her would be a lot more sheer, and cover even less. It filled her more with excitement than trepidation.

They were just in time for Marq to be called on stage again, and she had made a beeline for one of the tables stacked with champagne and wine flutes that dotted the hall floor. She looked for the small tumblers of water instead ... and almost choked on her third glass when she heard a familiar voice behind her.

"If you're really thirsty, try the Rosé."

She took another sip of water, composing herself before turning around, even more thankful for the mask.

David Brenner held a glass in each hand, the one with the pink liquid extended toward her.

"Hello. My name is David."

She deepened her voice, adopting the mild French accent she had used on Herr Gertner. "Hello, David."

"May I have the pleasure of knowing your name, Miss ...?"

She smiled at him, "Ramya Armaan."

"You look absolutely beautiful, Miss Ramya Armaan, if you don't mind my saying so."

"Thank you, Mr. David ...?"

"Brenner." David said, smiling and rakishly handsome. "David Brenner."

She saw the curiosity and desire in his eyes, but not a hint of recognition. Again, how could he possibly imagine that his sensible, faithful and oblivious fiancee would be standing in front of him in Bangkok?

Not only that, the woman in front of him was clothed in something out of every man's most erotic fantasies, there was a tattoo curling around her body, her hair was cut shorter than on any style he had ever seen on Honor Banet, and she was many inches taller than his fiancee ... because 'his' Honor would never wear heels so high. His eyes flashed over her neck, his mind noting again the absence of the dot his fiancee sported above her collar bone.

And then there was the mask covering three quarters of her face.

"You really should try the Rosé. It is very good," David continued.

She shook her head. "I don't drink alcohol." A week earlier, before she had become Marq Haydn's odalisque, that would have been a lie. But right then, she knew it was the truth; Marq did not like alcohol, so while she was his odalisque, neither did she.

David blinked in surprise, but recovered quickly. "Oh. I apologize." He placed the flute with the Rosé on the table. "Well, if I may ask, who are you here with?"

Honor paused before answering, knowing he had seen her with Marq, and deciding to go with the truth. "I am with Marq Haydn."

"So you're with Ascent Kapital?"

"No," she said. "I am just with Marq."

"So you're his ... wife? Or girlfriend?"

Honor suspected that David was very well aware of Marq's relationship status. Knowing him and his thoroughness, she was certain he had researched that very question before coming to the event.

Honor found herself marveling at the twist of fate that led to her being propositioned by her own fiancee halfway across the world, another man's semen still warm and trailing out of her body.

"No," she repeated. "I am just with him."

"I see," David said, and this time he made no effort to hide his eyes' survey of her body. "So you just met here in Bangkok?"

Honor smiled at him when his eyes made it back up to her face. "Yes. We met here in Bangkok. We have an ... 'arrangement.'"

His answering smile was openly predatory. "I'd like to meet you too, Miss Armaan. Very much."

"But are we not meeting now, Mr. Brenner?"

He laughed. "I meant somewhere more ... private."

She took another sip of water. "What makes you think I'd like to meet with you? In private?"

"Because that's the nature of your business, is it not?"

"And what type of business is that, Mr. Brenner?"

David stepped closer to her, his smile broadening. "'Arrangements.'"

She raised an eyebrow, tilting her head up to look at him, distantly wondering if he would recognize her from being so close, and finding that she didn't care if he did. "Oh?"

His voice dropped low. "After Haydn leaves Bangkok ..."

She laughed, interrupting him. "I'll be leaving Bangkok too." She finished the water and placed the glass back on the table. Marq was heading off the stage, she saw. She met David's eyes, saw the longing and frustration, but still no hint of recognition. "It was nice 'meeting' you, Mr. David Brenner."

And then, she walked away from her fiancee.

She glanced back at David as she reached the table, finding Marq already seated, eyes on her as she slid in beside him. She leaned in and kissed him, the warmth in her abdomen flaring up. So she took his hand between her legs, guiding his fingers to her slit, giving him a smile of welcome as she shifted herself forward, breaths coming faster, as one digit, and then another, obligingly entered her ...

Honor came back to the present, where she was naked and it was his member, not his fingers, inside her, and she was in a car being driven through the center of Bangkok.

"He didn't recognize me," she said, and then she leaned forward and kissed him, hard, nipping at his lip for emphasis, grinding down on his cock. "And I don't want to talk about another man right now." She kissed him again. "Am I clear, Mr. Haydn?"

He smiled. "Yes, Miss Banet."

Talking stopped again, only hard breathing and rough gasps as she writhed and quivered on top of him, reciprocating as he kissed and fondled her body, his erection sheathed inside her and swiftly driving out all thought.

"We're here," he suddenly said, releasing her lips, bringing her out of her delirium.

They were pulling into the Grand Imperial's driveway, she saw.

She turned back to him, a lewd smile on her lips. "We better speed things up then, Mr. Haydn."

She began to move him inside her, bouncing on him, riding him faster as he grasped her hips.

Then she gasped in shock and protest as he stiffened and abruptly lifted her off him, quivering at his erection's sudden exit from her body. She was still on his lap, breathing loud and harsh as she stared at him in unabashed confusion.

He brought her head down and kissed her again. "We'll finish this upstairs, Miss Banet," he said when he broke the kiss, his breathing elevated, lips inches away from hers.

She glowered at him, aware of her arousal at the ease with which he manhandled her body, aching with how much she wanted him back inside her, his cock at full mast and distractingly pressed against her mons. "I hate you."

He laughed, "No, you don't."

She glared and pouted, but she didn't resist when he sought her lips again.

 ________________________

Honor left her dress in the car. But she did wear the mask for the journey through the lobby and up to the suite.

She also wore his dress shirt. Barely. She only buttoned it up to just above her belly button, exposing her body chain, which Marq had insisted on reattaching to her breasts himself in the car as Mongkhut waited outside by the door. Her nipples poked proudly through the white cotton, as much from the attention he had lavished on them as the nooses that had them in their grasp.

She held his hand as she walked ahead of him through the lobby. Maybe the skeletal staff and the handful of guests still up at past one in the morning were scandalized at the sight of the masked and nearly naked woman leading a man behind her as she swiftly made her way to the elevator banks. Maybe one or both of her breasts was exposed by the scandalously open shirt falling open as she strode to the elevator bank, thanks to her absurd stripper heels adding an extra sway to her hips, but she didn't look down to confirm or pay attention to the people around them.

Because she simply didn't care.

By the time the doors dinged open on the sixteenth floor, the shirt was fully open, and there was no more question about her breasts, and more, being exposed. She unmelded herself from him, releasing his lips, and led him by hand out of the elevator, making no effort to close the shirt as she walked out in front of him through the hallway.

He was content to just follow behind her, until she let go of his hand to provocatively gather and tie the shirt over her belly, her butt exposed as she strode on in front of him.

It was only a few feet away from the door marked '1615', but he reacted still.

She gasped as he pressed her against the door, arching as he grasped her breasts and then crying out as his newly freed penis slid into her from behind. She laughed as he rode her, sliding in and out her pussy, aware that any of the room doors could open and she would be seen being taken like a shameless whore, and not caring in the least.

Somehow, minutes later, the door was opened, and they made it into the suite after that, still joined.

Somehow, she found herself standing and braced against the wall of the suite's entrance, the mask and the shirt torn off her, nude except for the heels still on her feet and the chain clasped to her body, to her breasts. An equally naked Marquin Haydn was inside her, except from the front, breaths coming harsh and fast, lips meeting repeatedly as they moved with each other. She came as he rode her, eyes rolling in her head as liquid gushed out of her pussy, barely hearing his grunt of effort as he held her up, continuing to fuck her through her orgasm.

She held on to him as he buried his face in her neck when he finally came inside her, calling her name as they collapsed to the carpeted floor.

Somehow, they made it to the bed in his room. She took the time to take him into her mouth, finding his cock still slimy from her fluids and his semen as she cleaned him up. Then she held him as he fell asleep; the strange, disturbing mix of joy and pride welling through her as he nuzzled her breasts, listening to his breathing slow along with hers.

She was in danger, she realized, as she gave in to the impulse to kiss him again. But at that moment, she couldn't bring herself to care.

She was his odalisque.

________________________

She woke up in the middle of that night to finally call her mother and father, going out into the living room as Marq slept, worn out from the event, and then, by her.

Alain Banet had congratulated his daughter on finally taking some time for herself though he had predictably chided her for not letting her parents know that she was flying halfway across the world, admonishing her to be careful. Jaya Banet, after asking if she was safe, had just asked her if she had seen any of the sights and taken pictures.

Val - short for Valor - her brother, had happened to be with their parents, and he had teased her about being so spontaneous, wondering who this new person was. Her sisters Grace and Faith had done the same thing when she called them.

Despite herself, not knowing why, she had told Marquin Haydn about her siblings and their names, and her heart had warmed as he commented in appreciation of her father's decision to name his children after virtues. In exchange, he had told her about his own younger brother, Marcel.

She felt no small amount of guilt at the realization that she was mainly calling her family to head off any undue concern which would lead to them seeking her out. Which could easily lead to someone calling David, and the premature discovery of what she had really been doing in Thailand ... and with who.

She felt even more guilty about not telling any of them that the wedding was no longer happening, that she was not going to be Mrs. Brenner, because he was having an affair with her married neighbor.

She finished the call with her older sister, Grace, when Marq came looking for her.

He was sporting an erection and, quite reasonably, he had come seeking his odalisque. So when he reached her on the couch, she shed the bathrobe she was wearing to deal with it so he could go back to sleep.

Which he did as she lay on top of him on the couch afterward, her pussy again filled with his cum, the taste of him still on her tongue, deliberately choosing to ignore the dangerous surge of emotion on the edge of her consciousness as she listened to his breathing slow, his arms around her as he dozed off.

________________________

Marq growled again, grasping her waist, and Honor shuddered as he sharply pulled out, feeling his cum spattering on her bum, remaining bent over to catch her breath, hearing his own harsh breathing behind her.

She finally let go of the railings and straightened up, smiling as he roughly pulled her up against him, his hands reaching up to cup her breasts as she arched invitingly, hissing and shuddering in reaction as he ran his fingers over each still pointing brown tip.

She had been naked for two days, Honor realized when Marq led her out to the balcony. That is, if one ignored the different breast and body jewellery sets Marq had apparently found the time to get for her.

It was warm but breezy at sixteen floors up, and goosepimples had risen on her skin, her already swollen and pointing nipples tingling as she stepped out under the late evening sky.

He noticed, as he always did, and she had been made warm quite soon enough.

She wondered, not for the first time, at his practice of coming on her body. Since she had woken up, he had come on her breasts, on her belly, and now, she could feel the slimy warmth of his semen on the swells of her butt, sticking beween them.

It disturbed her that she had enjoyed it, a lot, like now, each time. But only a little.

He had only come inside her twice that day. And the first time was in her mouth that morning.

She had enjoyed that immensely too.

She suspected sensible, disciplined Honor Banet might have considered a man repeatedly releasing his semen on her body degrading, like a dog marking his territory. But the Honor that was Marq Haydn's odalisque only felt an almost addictive surge of pride and joy every time she made him come, inside her or on her skin.

Two days, she thought again, wonderingly; two days of constant sexual attention, of being kissed, eaten, fondled, licked, fingered and fucked. Two days of having every part of her being relentlessly explored and used.

She felt her face heat up; she had been nothing if not an eager participant, reciprocating with equal enthusiasm.

She turned her head, puckering her lips in invitation. He took them with his, grasping her harder against him as he roughly kneaded her breasts.

She enjoyed that too, being naked and fondled out in the open air, all sense of modesty and propriety set aside.

Then one hand left her boobs, trailing its way down her belly. His fingers met no resistance as they went between her legs, making her shudder and break the kiss with a sharp intake of breath as he easily found what he was looking for, swollen and peeking eagerly out of its hood.

Honor grasped the railings again, spreading her thighs wider for him, another quiet gasp escaping her parted lips as his questing fingers slid into her pussy. She came quickly, and noisily, liquid gushing out of her as she shook and spasmed in his arms, knees going weak. He held her tight, holding her up as she rode her orgasm to its end.

She spun around to kiss him before she had fully caught her breath, pressing her body hard against him as she threw her arms around his neck, giggling as his hands grasped her butt.

It took a while before she got her fill of that.

"We'll be launching the prototype fairly soon," Marq said.

"Is that where you're going next?" Honor asked. She felt a sudden sense of disquiet as the words left her mouth; where he was going next, after Bangkok, was none of her business, she had told herself firmly. To no avail.

She was still naked, as was he, and they were still on the balcony. And she was lying back against him on the chaise lounge, legs obligingly spread wide open, exposing herself, letting him touch and caress her. His hands never stopped moving. His fingers trailed over her breasts, cupping them and teasing each erect nipple before going over the swell of her belly, and then lower still, making her shudder on top of him.

She had at first thought he was humoring her, but she had soon become convinced that he was genuinely interested in her views, even as he continued to insatiably explore and play with her body like a favorite toy. At any other time, having a conversation under the circumstances would have struck her as beyond strange, but, like his 'renegotiation' of their deal, Marq Haydn was clearly not of the opinion that sex precluded talking about anything and nothing.

Even topics as far afield and alien as nuclear and geothermal energy, even if he had to briefly recap the latest developments in the science and engineering to her.

Like the one square kilometer artificial island named Solar Isle that he was talking about, made almost entirely of a new and patented type of flexible and buoyant solar panel that Ascent Kapital had invested in and was launching in the Indian Ocean.

Earlier on, she had given him a crash course in the economics of running a bakery, and at some point, the art and science of molecular gastronomy. That had been while they were experimenting yet again with seeing just how long they could stay joined together - just like her, Marq had easily noted the similarity with the 'sit-still' act in 'The Odalisque.' Like every other time, they had discovered it wasn't very long at all before someone lost control.

It had been him that time; one moment, she had been explaining how to make mango caviar, somehow managing to maintain her train of thought while contending with an erect penis inside her, and the next she had been on her back and struggling to catch her breath as Marq mindlessly pistoned into her pussy. She had cursed and sworn at him, and then she had come, clutching at his body as she felt him empty himself inside her.

She quivered, eyes closing as a finger dipped inside her opening, her mouth opening in a silent sob of delight as he went deeper, arching as she covered his digits in her liquid.

"Not just yet," he said, kissing her neck as he explored her. "That's about a month away."

She could smell herself in the night air, and it got even stronger as he brought his cum covered fingers to her lips for her to lick clean. He liked that, she knew, feeling his cock stirring against her spine, which meant she was getting to like it too. A lot. The sheer nasty wickedness of it; of being naked, fucked, fondled and masturbated on a hotel balcony, by a man who was not her fiancee, and then hungrily licking their combined fluids off his fingers, was not something sensible disciplined Honor Banet would even contemplate.

"So you're going back to Zurich?" Why was she asking questions about where he was going next?

"No. Not just yet," Marq said. "We ... are going to the beach."

She turned her head sharply. "We?"

Her lips were close enough for him to kiss, so he did, grinning as she responded, kissing him back instinctively despite herself. "Yes, Miss Banet. Tomorrow."