The pulsating music called to her soul. Cassandra forced opened the paint-encrusted window and leaned out her seventh floor hotel room. A full moon gave the street below a surreal illumination as if she were dreaming. Dancing figures spilled from the overflowing bar, moving to the percussion-heavy music of Phil Collins. In the darker, sheltered doorways, she could make out lovers entwined, their bodies pulsating to the music as well. The sight filled her with raw aching hunger for love.

As she breathed in the warm moist sea air, she felt the Wild Thing come upon her. She tried to resist, but it was impossible. Between the full moon, the driving rhythm of the music, and the hunger of her body, the battle was lost before it began.

***

The music continued to call to her as she brushed out her long blonde hair and applied a hint of blue eye shadow to enhance her large blue eyes. Then with a touch of rouge and lipstick, she smiled at the reflection in the mirror. The woman she saw was beautiful and sexy, an exotic stranger.

She opened the suitcase and sorted through fleece, flannel and wool hiking clothes. There was absolutely nothing fit to wear, all quite impossible!

She looked at the beauty in the mirror. Her body was lean and sensual in the dark blue silk nighty. She smiled at the reflection and turned her body to look at her backside. The nightie was open all the way to the small of her back with only slender rope straps crisscrossing over her muscular shoulders. The silk cut in at the waist and then flared softly over her hips and stopping shortly thereafter. She turned to study the front. The silk rope straps held the fragile cloth that formed over her full breasts.

Wearing the nightie, she left the room with only a twenty-dollar bill and the key to her room. When she stepped out into the warm sultry coastal Australian air, she was free of the inhibitions of Cassandra. Where Cassandra would have been self-conscious by the admiring looks, the Wild Thing reveled in the attention, searching the faces for someone who could fill her need.

She entered the bar and surveyed the pickings. While there were several possibilities, the one that looked most promising was a severe looking man in his early thirties at the far end of the bar. She sensed from him a hunger almost equal to her own. She made her way toward him, enjoying the feel of hot flesh against her as she squeezed through the crowd. The silk garment was so thin, she felt positively naked.

She squeezed between him and another man seated at his left. In the close quarters, her shoulder and arm pressed against him. He pulled away at her touch. She turned towards him, causing her right breast to brush his shoulder. “Sorry, it’s a bit tight here.”

He seemed mesmerized with her barely covered breasts beneath the blue silk. She tilted her head a bit lower trying to catch his glance. Instead of meeting her eyes, he returned his stare to his drink.

His rejection did not discourage Wild Thing. His loneliness radiated from his lean muscular body, and from the look in his face a moment before, he was ripe for the picking. She ordered a diet coke when the bartender came by and then turned her body out to face the crowd. She could feel countless eyes upon her, mostly adolescent boys, but their desire fed her flame.

A handsome young boy in his early twenties asked her for a dance. She leaned in close to her sulking prey. “Will you hold my key.”

“Pardon me?” He stared at her in confusion.

She laughed and leaned in even closer, her flesh burning into his flesh wherever they touched. “I said, would you watch my key? I want to dance, but as you can see, I have no pockets.”

The man allowed himself a moment to study her dress. “There’s no pockets.”

“So will you?” Her voice was low and throaty. She spoke only an inch from his ear.

He pulled slightly back. “Will I what?”

 “Hold my key.” She took this opportunity to study his face. It was certainly rugged terrain. The wrinkles at the corners of his mouth and between his eyes were proof that he usually spent his day in worry. There were a few light scars across his cheekbones, which suggested he was no stranger to fights. Given the breadth of his shoulders and the firmness of the muscles on the arm she presently pressed against, she suspected he was normally the victor in these encounters.

His eyes grew hard and wary. “I think you’ve got the wrong guy. I’m not looking for anything tonight.”

She laughed and let her head fall back, exposing her white slender neck. Then tilting her head prettily to one side, she leaned towards him. “Then you’re the perfect guy, because I’m not selling anything. I’m just looking for someone to hold my key for me without getting any ideas.”

Before he could reply, she took her key and tucked it into his shirt pocket. Then she disappeared into the crowd.

***

Marcus was pissed. Why the hell had she given him her damned key? She could have given it to any other guy in this bar, and it would have been gladly received— anyone but him.

He reached in his shirt pocket and withdrew the key. A folded twenty-dollar bill fell on the counter. His anger flared. She put her money in his pocket too? What did he look like, some god damned bank? He swallowed his drink in one hard gulp and motioned for the bartender to refill his glass.

He studied the key. It belonged to a respectable hotel. Not one in which a hooker would ply their trade. From her accent, he guessed she was American, probably a tourist, but not very smart one. What a stupid ass thing to do—give a strange man your hotel room key. Both the name of the hotel and the room number were on the large plastic tag.

He stared through the crowd at the key’s owner. She wasn’t hard to find. Every person in the bar watched her. She danced to the music with utter abandonment. Her sensual rhythm of her swaying body mesmerized him. My God, he thought. She’s a snake and snake charmer fused into one.

The bartender must have filled his glass six times while he continued to watch her impromptu floor show. He noticed that her body had a sweaty sheen now and the silk dress clung even more tightly to her body than it had before. And what a beautiful body it was: tall, thin and muscular, like an athlete, or maybe a professional dancer. He’d certainly pay good money to watch her move across a stage.

At midnight, the band took a break and opened the mike up for Karaoke. This was normally when Marcus would call it a night, but he couldn’t until the dancing spirit returned to claim her key and money. A group of hormone raging pups presently mobbed her. He wondered if he should rescue her, but decided to remain where he was. A little scare would serve her right.

The bartender poured him another drink. “Your lady friend sure can dance— a little too much, if you get my drift. The two big fellas will see she gets back here safe.”

Marcus almost replied that if he had wanted her back, he certainly wouldn’t need any help keeping off a few half-grown pups. Instead, he just tapped his empty glass for another hit. He sipped the drink and waited for the temptress to return for her key. No way in hell he was going to let her see him watching her.

However, the look on the bartender’s face made him change his mind. The two bouncers, who were supposed to return her to the bar, were lifting her onto the stage. God, her legs were endlessly long, and the dress was dangerously short. He suspected the raucous applause and shouting from the dance floor was due to the view she gave them. He turned and faced the bar. Idiot girl. How much taunting could those poor boys take before their hormones overrun the little sense they have?

As the music began, Marcus knew she could sing off key and it wouldn’t matter. Those boys were probably stone cold deaf from the hammering of their raging blood. Yet, when the first sweet tone of her voice carried across the room, he almost dropped his glass in shock. He sat his drink down, listening, hoping to find some flaw, something to save him—yet her voice was perfection incarnate.

She sang a Bette Midler song about love being like a rose. He felt like she was singing it directly to him. Slowly, he turned in his chair.

Her eyes locked onto his. The voice…the body, it was too much to resist, and when the song ended and the bouncers forced a path back to his side, he was very glad he held her key.

She pressed close to him with her back to the hungry swell of male hormones behind them. Her skin shimmered with moisture and she smelled of earthy musk. When she laid her hand against his chest, he thought his heart would explode.

She leaned in to him, very close to his ear. “Still have my key?”

He could feel the warmth on her breath on his cheek. Combined with her burning hand on his chest and the sweet smell of her breath, he struggled to control his need to take her. Hell, he was in no better shape than the young pups he held in such contempt.

“I do. But unless I can get you out through the back door, you’ll never leave here without being accosted.”

She slipped her hand in his. “Then I put myself in your hands.”

Marcus grimaced at his new responsibility. He looked at the bartender who stood before them, just as mesmerized as the rest of the pups. Motioning him closer, they soon devised a plan of escape out the back door, where one of the bouncers would have Marcus’ car ready to go.

***

Everything went as planned, and Marcus had his sex kitten across town before the pups realized their quarry had not just gone to the lady’s room, but had left the building.

He glanced over at her. She didn’t seem concerned as he drove out of town, further away from her hotel. She should be. She should be damned terrified.

“Don’t you want to know where we are going?”

She laughed softly. “I assumed your place.”

Her matter of fact acceptance unsettled him. Who was in control here? “Right, and do you know why?”

She tilted her head and studied him with clear amusement. “I thought I did, but perhaps you had better tell me.”

“Your hotel is too close to the bar. If even one of those guys saw you entering —”

“So you’re taking me to your place for protection?”

“Unless you have somewhere else you want to go.”

“No. I can’t think of anyplace I’d rather go.” She lifted her bare feet onto the dashboard and massaged her calves. “God, my muscles are tight. I haven’t danced like that in years.”

“Really? I would have guessed you were a professional dancer.”

She laughed. “Not in this body.”

“I’ve never seen anyone dance half so well.”

She looked at him in surprise. “Thank you.”

With her legs on the dashboard, her short dress became even shorter. Even in the darkness, he could see where her endless legs finally met the pretty lace panties that covered her firm buttocks. The view made it hard for him to keep his eyes on the road.

When they arrived at the estate, Andy stepped out of the guardhouse. He was about to wave him through, when he saw Marcus had a passenger. He stared in the window. “What’s up?” he asked as he eyed the girl with her long legs propped on the dashboard.

“Just a friend. She’ll be leaving in awhile.”

Andy chuckled. “I’m supposed to frisk her you know.”

“I’ll do it myself, thank you.”

***

Marcus pulled the car up to a small house built a few thousand feet away from the stone mansion. He opened the door and led her inside. As he locked the door behind them, she ambled toward the couch. He reached out and pulled her against his body, kissing her hard, but pulling away before the passion got too far to stop.

 “I’m sorry, but I really do have to frisk you.” He turned her to the wall and placed her hands with seductive gentleness against the stucco wall. He ran his hands down her arms, over and in between her breasts, down her waist. With a gentle nudge from his knee, she spread her legs wider and pressed against him as his hands traveled down from her waist. When his hands touched her between her legs, she moaned with passion and need. His body demanded to answer that need. Pushing aside her panties, he drove himself deep within her warm moist center.

When he climaxed, he turned her to face him, expecting disappointment in her eyes. It had been too quick and impersonal with her pressed against the wall like a criminal. He deserved to see resentment.

She had a right to be angry. She had spent the entire night seducing him. Yet, he couldn’t even wait until they were comfortably in the bedroom.

To his surprise, all he could read in those gorgeous blue eyes was insatiable hunger. Her breath was rapid and moist as it escaped through her red hungry lips. Her breath still smelled like cinnamon. He crushed her to him and devoured those moist lips.

She responded with an equal fire, wrapping her arms about him, pressing so hard against him that he wondered why they didn’t melt under the intensity of heat.

Never breaking his kiss, he maneuvered her towards his bedroom. By the time he eased her onto the bed, they had managed to shed their remaining clothes and his body was once again rigid with excitement.

This time, however, he took his time, kissing and teasing every portion of her body, until it resonated with his every touch.

“Please,” she whispered, arching her body against his, wrapping her strong arms about him.

“Please what?”

When her eyes met his, he saw nothing but hunger in hers. “I need you,” she whispered. “I need you inside me.”

Unable to resist her any longer, he pushed himself deep inside her warmth. He struck unbearable pleasure, almost as if they had tapped into something beyond mere physical bonding. He had never experienced anything close to the heights of emotions that swept across him. He could hear cries of pleasure, and wondered if they were his or hers, and then realized it didn’t matter, for at the present, they were one entity, one soul.

For the first time in his life, he was not alone.

***

Marcus woke early in the morning. They had made love through most of the night, and he had hoped to sleep in late. However, something had pulled him from his peaceful slumber, and now he knew what woke him.

She was gone.

He sat up, suddenly wide-awake. He searched his house. He had hoped maybe she was in the kitchen fixing breakfast, but the house was silent and empty.

He was putting on his boots, when the phone rang. He grabbed it in one ring.

“I need a taxi to go to…” Andy’s voice paused and spoke to someone, “Where do you want to go?”, and then spoke into the phone, “I need a taxi to go to Gouvner Hotel.”

Marcus sighed in relief and embarrassment. “I’ll be right down.”

Thank God Andy was still on duty. This lapse of security could have cost him his job. Letting the girl into the compound was stupid. Letting her roam about unattended was inconceivable. He didn’t want to think about what might have happened.

He drove his car to the gatehouse and entered the guard shack. He saw her huddled in a chair, wearing his trench coat. Her hair, now oily from their night’s exertions, was pulled back into a ponytail held by a thick orange rubber band that had been sitting on his kitchen counter. She was a sad cry from the ‘fox’ he had enjoyed in bed.

“I’ll take you back to the hotel.”

Her pale skin flushed. She looked away from him. “That’s all right. The guard called me a taxi.”

“He called me. Now let’s go.”

She remained rooted to her spot. “It’s really not necessary…”

Was this really the same woman he had made love to last night? This morning she seemed almost frightened of him. She certainly hadn’t been last night. “Mornings after!” He shook his head in exasperation. Grabbing her by her arm, he led her to his car. Once she was secured inside, he turned to Andy. “Thanks. I didn’t hear her get up this morning.”

Andy smirked. “Must have been some night to make you sleep that soundly.”

Marcus stared at the woman in the car. It had been an extraordinary night. “Where’d you find her?” It bothered him she had managed to get out of bed, acquire his coat from his closet and leave without him hearing a sound.

Andy grinned. “I noticed her the second she stepped out of your house. Couldn’t miss the furtive body language, as she closed your door extra quiet-like.”

Marcus endured Andy’s enjoyment of the situation. It wasn’t often that a woman wanted to escape him.

“Then what?”

“She came straight to the guard house. Wanted a taxi to take her home.”

Marcus nodded and looked at the manor house. “You going to write this up?” He kept his voice as even as he could make it.

“Write what up?”

Marcus reached out and grasped Andy’s shoulder affectionately. “I owe you one.”

Andy smiled. “I’ll claim that debt some night over beers. You can tell me what went on last night that made you sleep so soundly.”

As Marcus climbed in his car, he studied his passenger. He still couldn’t believe she had been able to get out of his bed and wander about his house without him waking. Could she have drugged him? He didn’t see how, but it would be prudent of him to have some blood tests done just to be certain.

The drive was in silence. Neither one was willing to break the chill that had settled over them.

The moment Marcus pulled the car to the curb in front of the hotel she jumped out of the car. He had to move quickly to catch up with her before she disappeared inside the hotel.

“One moment please.” He snared her arm and pulled her to a halt.

Her expression was half-fear and half-embarrassment.

“My dates don’t normally run off in the middle of the night.” He straightened the collar of his trench coat. “Any reason why you did?”

She glanced down at her feet. “You looked so peaceful, I just thought …”

“You’d take my trench coat and leave.”

She blushed with shame. “I was going to send it back.”

“Right.” He untied the belt. “Let’s see what else you were going to return.”

He opened the trench coat expecting to find other possessions tucked neatly inside, but there was only her fabulous body draped in the flimsy silk dress. He ran his hands over her, more for the pleasurable memory, than out of necessity. The dress was much too thin to hide contraband. He searched the inside pockets of his coat and pulled out a Monte Blanc pen worth a couple of hundred dollars. He raised his eyebrows at her.

She stared at the pen in horror. “It must have already been in the coat. I didn’t realize there was an inside pocket.”

“Right.” He put the pen in his jacket pocket. He went go through the remaining pockets. He found nothing else but an envelope with his address on the face. He held it up and looked at her.

“It was in your trash. I needed your address so I could return your coat.”

He tucked the address in his pocket. His body surged with inexplicable anger. Grabbing the lapels, he pulled her against him and kissed her hard. He wanted to remind her of the pleasure she had felt the night before, how she had pleaded for his touch, but it was as if he kissed a different woman this morning. This one was timid and afraid, trying to push away from him.

Disgusted, he released her and headed back to his car.

“I’ll leave your coat at the front desk,” she called out to him, her voice hesitant and uncertain.

The anger raged through his veins as he turned to her. “Tell you what. Keep the damn thing for services paid.”

She looked as though he had slapped her. Good, he thought, as he jammed his body into the car and sped off. Serves her right.

***

He stopped by the lab and had blood drawn. He wanted to verify the bitch hadn’t drugged him.

By the time he returned to the estate he only had time for a quick breakfast and shower before work. Anger sustained him through the afternoon. By eight, he was so dogged tired that all he could do was drag himself to bed. Flashbacks of their love making filled his dreams. Had it really been that good?

Early next morning, he drove back to the Gouvner Hotel in search of her. He had let it end badly and he wanted to fix that. In truth, he didn’t want it to end at all.

He couldn’t ask for her at the desk, she had never given him her name, but he knew her room number. He took the elevator up to the seventh floor and found room 716. The door was open and the maid was cleaning the empty room. She looked up in surprise.

Marcus smiled to put her at ease. “Excuse me, but I’m looking for the young lady who is staying here.”

“She’s gone,” the maid replied.

“Gone,” Marcus repeated, as if the word were a sentence to eternal hell. “Do you know where?”

“To the airport, I think.”

“When?” Maybe if he hurried, he still might be able to catch her.

“Yesterday afternoon, I think. The desk could probably tell you.”

Marcus nodded.

The desk clerk told him a Cassandra Johnson had checked out early yesterday morning. He remembered calling an airport shuttle bus for her.

“I probably wouldn’t have recalled her— people are in and out of her all the time—but I had seen her come down the night before in a really hot outfit. I mean hot!”

“And yesterday morning,” Marcus prompted. He knew all there was to know about the hot outfit.

“Flannel sweat suit and a trench coat five times too big. Wet hair in a ponytail and no make up. If I hadn’t known it was the same girl, I wouldn’t have recognized her. It’s amazing what a dress and makeup can do for some sheilas.”

She had kept his coat. He was glad. Had she thrown it in the trash, he would not have blamed her. His comment about ‘payment for services provided’ was completely unwarranted. He had just been pissed because she had been so determined to escape him. That was normally his role. He was the one who would send the ladies off with a peck and a kiss. He wasn’t accustomed to being dismissed. Nor in this case was he ready. Something quite extraordinary had occurred between them last night and he wanted to experience it longer. Unfortunately, she hadn’t. When he kissed her this morning, there had been nothing. Her wall was already constructed and he was on the outside.

When he returned to work, he called a contact at the airport and asked him to search yesterday’s flights for a Cassandra Johnson. He grew worried when the reply came that no Cassandra Johnson had boarded a plane yesterday. His concern deepened when the immigrations query returned with no visa issued currently for a Cassandra Johnson from the United States.

“Shit!” he whispered, calling the lab to see if the blood tests were finished. “Who the hell did I let in here?”

He had his entire house, guardhouse and the space between swept for electronic devices. He quizzed Andy again to ensure that she had walked directly from his house to the guard shack. Despite Andy’s assurances, he extended the electronic sweep search into the manor house.

The blood test came back fine. She had not drugged him. His deep sleep was the result of nothing more than contentment and sexual exhaustion.

He might have been able to write the whole episode off, if not for two serious facts. First, she used an alias—not the normal behavior of a tourist. Secondly, she had singled him out from the moment she entered the bar. She had seduced him with a purpose in mind. And whatever that purpose had been, it was fulfilled by this morning.

That left him with the question: What had she succeeded in doing?

This was no longer a minor transgression. He needed to bring it to the attention of his boss, but to do so would not only get him fired, but Andy as well.

So he remained silent, standing on the brink of disaster, waiting for the inevitable sign that would forecast his fall.