He also frequented the local brothels and toured the town with several of these women as constant companions.
The agents had followed the fun-loving president from his lavish palace to Monaco, then Nice, and finally Cannes, before he finally ran out of money, whereupon he sailed back home to wring more taxes from his poor, benighted citizens.
It was at this point that Bree and Sam returned to headquarters, reporting that the World Bank had wasted its time and money.
During their whole time together, Sam had been the perfect gentleman. Bree could see he was interested in her as a woman but, like the boy scout that he was, he kept his hands and thoughts to himself. Bree found it most infuriating.
She knew he wanted to say something, but his self-control was complete.
Bree was more than willing to indulge their more carnal desires. Sam was a very handsome man, with a hard, muscular body from constant exercise, and a warped sense of humour that appealed to her. The idea of spending the night in his arms did not scare her in the least. If only he would get over his reticence and make the first move.
Much to her disappointment, the invitation was never issued and they parted company after their debriefing.
A second assignment, a couple of weeks later, was completed with the same result.
This time, the strain was beginning to show. Sam was withdrawn and testy. Bree tried to draw him out but the more she tried to flirt with him, the more he withdrew from her. It began to affect their work.
They finished the assignment barely on speaking terms.
Their superiors were totally unsatisfied with their report and made the pair know of their displeasure in no uncertain terms.
Chastised, they retreated to their separate homes to lick their wounds alone.
Bree slammed her front door behind her. It was all too much.
She strode around her apartment, lashing out at the furniture, pretending to dust, while making plans. Something had to be done and if Sam wouldn’t make the first move, then it was up to her.
Bree felt better for having come to a decision. She picked up her phone and dialed Sam’s number. He wasn’t home, so she left a message on his answering machine.
‘We have to talk. I’ve made a booking at the Four Seasons for seven pm. Make sure you’re there on time.’
Sam had spent his time at the gym, sweating out his misery. He had pounded his body to the limit and still not been able to rid himself of the malaise that clouded his mind.
He had moved from the gym to the gun club, where he had murdered numerous targets and still felt no better.
As he drove home, he realised there was only one thing for him to do. He had to ask his superiors to be assigned another partner. Preferably a male partner. That way there would be no more complications.
When he arrived home, Bree’s message was on the machine.
Sam listened and nodded.
Yes. Tonight at dinner would be the best time to break the news to her.
Sam arrived at the restaurant a few minutes before the allotted time and, as their table was not ready, he was directed to the bar. He perched with a drink in his hand and studied the other diners.
Except for a table of tourists, the entire restaurant consisted of couples. They looked into the eyes of their companions as they ate their meals. All were oblivious to what was happening around them. He envied them. With Bree no longer his partner, perhaps he would be free to think of her as more than a business associate.
Her arrival roused him from his reverie.
She saw him at the bar and waved, smiling.
If the men in the restaurant had been paying attention to their companions before, then the spell was suddenly broken by the woman walking towards Sam.
The men turned to watch Bree, and well they should!
Her red dress was skin tight over her well muscled body. The hem slashed high showed her long legs to the full, and the neck-line dropped almost to her navel revealing wide expanses of her chest, accentuating her full breasts. Sam had never seen her look more desirable. As she drew closer, the scent of her perfume reached out to him.
Bree smiled at the look of awe on his face.
‘Got you,’ she thought. ‘Now to reel you in.’
They ordered a small entrée of seafood pieces, followed by a dinner of lamb and salad, accompanied by a bottle of Bree’s favourite chablis.
‘What did you want to talk about?’ asked Sam.
‘There’s no rush. I’ll get around to it later. What did you want to talk about?’
Sam cleared his throat, trying to collect his thoughts. ‘I was thinking. Our assignment didn’t go well. Perhaps we may have to do something.’
‘Like what?’
Sam took a sip of his drink. ‘I thought it might be for the best if we asked to be assigned different partners.’
Bree didn’t react, which surprised Sam. Instead, she regarded him over the lip of her glass as she took a sip.
Finally, she said. ‘Do you think that’s the way to solve the problem?’
‘I think we’d both work better apart.’
Bree nodded. ‘Perhaps.’
‘Then you agree? We’ll ask to be reassigned.’
‘If no other solution presents itself,’ she smiled.
Sam couldn’t believe how well she was taking it. He had expected her to put forward some sort of objection to them being separated. Now he was feeling unsure of himself. Did she want to get rid of him? Is that what she had wanted to tell him?
They ate their main course in relative silence. Sam attempted to make small-talk but Bree simply smiled at him and gave some simple answer that cut further discussion of the topic in question.
After the waiter had cleared their dishes and brought the desert menu Bree excused herself.
‘I’m just going to check my make-up. I’ll be back in a second.’
Sam watched her walk towards the ladies’ toilet. So did most of the other men in the room, much to their partners’ disgust.
When Bree returned she stood behind Sam’s chair and placed both hands on his shoulders. Bending down, she surprised him by kissing him lightly on the cheek while pushing something into the top pocket of his jacket.
Returning to her seat, she casually raised her menu and scanned the list of sweets on offer.
Sam reached into his top pocket to find out what she had placed there.
He pulled out a ball of silk and began to unroll it.
Suddenly he realised he was holding the briefest pair of women’s underwear in his hand. Bree’s underwear.
He blushed and hastily shoved the item back into his pocket. Bree was still studying the menu.
‘What?’ he mumbled.
Bree