Nikita was boarding the London bound Concorde from La Guardia. She was walking a tight rope; a little ecstatic, a lot excited and a bit elated. She was agog - a new home, a new career, a new life, and perhaps even a husband. She didn't want to wake up - the focus on the target. Keep your eyes on the ball.

She sat in the wide body, comfortable aircraft, opulent and lavish - starting with the Mimosa and fresh fruit compote and ending with the service. She would soon be arriving at Heathrow and Michael would be there. The 5th of June had taken its time.

Michael, Nikita thought, was a supernatural occurrence in her life. She had prayed for him. She had prepared for him. She had thanked God he had already been with her. And if he went away... Nikita would be content, because her life had once been complete and immaculate. She had lived more in the past month than she had in all her life.

Nikita's rested her head on the seat. She was wearing a powder blue suit the color of her eyes; the skirt barely touching the top of her knees; the jacket short and fitted, now hanging in some bulkhead closet; and the camisole trimmed with antique lace. The sandals - same blue - had been removed and a pair of sock-like slippers were now on her feet; her purse under her seat. "Count of Montecristo" played on the screen attached to her dais although she was not watching.

Her thoughts were on Michael. Michael was the definition of 'handsome'-comely, elegant, aristocratic, virile. His green eyes, spirited; communicative with the change of color; deep green, moss, leafy, verdant, emerald, hazel, gray. She had seen every one of those shades as he, without speaking, had expressed and demonstrated his love and desire for her.

His hair was sometimes curly, sometimes straight, sometimes unruly, always perfect; the color as changeable as his eyes. The factions were as distinct as precise as the physique - inspirational. The somewhat roman nose; the cheekbones a woman would kill for; the lips - ahh those lips, they were enough to loose sleep over.

Nikita was startled by a flight attendant showing her the menu. She smiled inside - the street rat was living the high life - she ordered the filet. When the meal was over, including desert, wine and an incredible tea, Nikita went to the lavatory to refreshed further. The hot towel scented in lemon and violets did not do the trick.

She brushed her teeth, combed her hair - she was wearing it loose to be able to clip it back when she again wore her little hat - and sprayed some perfume - Joy de Jean Patou. She saw her reflection in the mirror and was pleased. Rarely did she think she looked good; perhaps Michael's influence had increased her self-confidence, for she felt beautiful.

She asked for the movie again and watched it this time. She finished her novel "The Gauntlet." She slept a bit, no dreams just resting; she ordered water, skipped the next meal and got ready for the landing. There was an announcement pointing out some landmark she was not interested in because her anxiety was building. She found her complicated passport - Australian citizenship, US residency and British and French Visas. She filled out the appropriate form for Customs and put her jacket and shoes on.

Michael was pacing, surprising because he was usually so cool. His family and Madelyn had allowed him to pick up Nikita at the airport by himself. The couple needed to connect; Michael's lips quirked at the thought that perhaps they should rent an Airport hotel room to say their hellos.

He had a bouquet of peonies he had picked up at an Airport florist. He had an umbrella - after all it was almost summer and this was London. But most importantly Michael had a small red velvet box, an antique in its own right which contained the most dramatic 18th century ring - 4 carat square cut blood red ruby surrounded by 16 each 1/4 carat diamonds.

The ring had been his mother's engagement ring. Belonging to his father's family, it was the color of their finest wine and it got passed from son to son to son. Michael's hand flipped the little box around. He hoped that Nikita liked the ring, liked his answer to her proposal and liked the prospect of a life with a virtual stranger who now could not live without her.

He could envision her living in his Chateau, traveling with him, working next to him, pregnant, with their children, happy. Michael smiled again - yes the 5th of June had surely taken its time.

The announcement came over the loudspeaker in the private traveler's club. Nikita's plane was finally arriving. Michael took a last swig of his Evian and lime. He caught his reflection on the mirrored door - blue jeans, green tee, brown boots, wild curly do - copper and blonde ringlets on his forehead. His dark glasses perched on his head.

She spotted him as she left the immigration area; he was leaning against a column chatting with an elderly man - smiling. Nikita could hear him translating from some language she didn't recognize and pointing. He felt her before he saw her, the porter pushing a cart with her 5 pieces of luggage.

He smiled at her, pushed off the column and moved swiftly embracing her tightly. "I missed you." He said kissing her head and then her mouth. "I love you."

"Hmm, I missed you more. I thought I would never get here, be in your arms." She whispered. "Love you too."

He smiled, kissed her again and said in her ear "Patience."

She told him about her trip, about the sale of the house, about the packing. She showed him her diploma. All this while they walked to the parking lot. He laughed, hugged her, beamed with pride and then he gave her the flowers.

She loved the peonies, asked if those grew in England...he answered that they did better in France if she planned to be the one growing them. She laughed and asked if he was driving. He said he had the chauffeur bring him so he could enjoy watching her seeing London for the first time.

She laughed and told him, she had plenty of time to do that...she wanted to be able to properly greet him and winked her clear blue eyes. Michael laughed, pinched her butt and told her to behave - after all in London he was a Lord.

"Hmm Royalty" Nikita said smirking.

He released her hair from the clip, pushed it behind her ears, held her face between his hands and kissed her again. The porter was rolling his eyes at all the public displays of affection. "We haven't seen each other in so long..." Nikita told the man.

"Uhu". The man said.

Michael laughed they'd arrived at the limo. He'd ordered it parked in the closest entrance to the garage so they could get out of there without much traffic. She looked at Michael and wondered - "Do you have a sun tan?"

"Yep", by now he was almost carrying her.

"How did you get a sun tan? Hillinger wouldn't let me get a tan." She said smiling.

"Hillinger?" Michael said.

"Yeah, it was a surprise, he took pictures." She said saucily holding his hand.

"What kind of pictures?" Michael asked as he tipped the porter so handsomely that the man did a double take.

Lady Adrian's chauffeur, who had been with her forever, bowed to Nikita when Michael introduced her. She got in the car as Michael and the chauffeur talked while closing the trunk. "She is beautiful Lord Michael."

"Thanks Chaucer, I think so too." Michael padded the man in the back.

"Baby, what kind of pictures?" He seriously asked.

Nikita was puzzled "The campaign pictures, what else?"

"The engagement ones I ordered?" He said broadly smiling and pulling the little red box from his pocket.

She let out a shriek, jumped on his lap, and before she could see what was inside the box, she was kissing him. His lips, his eyes, his forehead, his eyebrows, his ears; nibbling on his neck, his chin, his lips - he was laughing, saying over and over - "The answer is yes, I will marry you."

He repositioned her on the seat, fell to one knee and said. "I know you have asked me, I know I have agreed, but I want to do this the way I have dreamt. "Kita, I have never felt the way I feel about you, the way I feel with you, and I love you with an intensity that terrifies me. I can't live without you. I love you - will you please marry me?" He opened the ring box and she let out a gasp.

"Yes Michael, I love you...now get up here - I want to properly thank you when you lay that rock on my finger." She said laughing, tears streaming down her face.

He sat up and again brought her to his lap. The ring fit her perfectly and she wondered how he had gotten her size - who cared. He put his arms around her waist and placed his forehead to hers. "I love you baby. Vous c'est mon coeur."

///////

Nikita kissed his mouth, deeply, softly, a caress to end all tarrying. Her hands nestled around his neck, fingers deep within his curls. Then, she removed her shoes, then Michael's. She proceeded to remove her jacket; her thin camisole reflecting the lace bra beneath it; her hard nipples clearly visible through the thin material covering.

Michael watched in fascination as she extracted her bra without removing her camisole. First the snap of the bra in the back, movement which caused her breasts to push forward and shamelessly tempt him. Then one shoulder strap, then the other and finally pulled it from her body to be discarded behind them on the limo floor. His eyes focused, fixed, following every tantalizing move.

Then came the skirt, by this time Michael was softly and with pause, kissing her nipples through the satin camisole - wet patterns forming around the area where the areola jutted out. The button of the skirt dislodged, motion that again regaled Michael with a mouth full of breast and eliciting a moan from both equally aroused lovers.

She sat on his lap wearing a progressively wet camisole and a strip of white lace she obviously considered a panty. Her legs bare now wrapped themselves around his waist. He had turned giving her plenty of room in the spacious seat. She moved his mouth to hers by holding his chin, he looked up, gray eyes glazed in supplication.

Michael was beyond continuos thought - he was one giant nerve ending. His skin so sensitized it prickled just with her breath. His penis demonstrating his situation by having developed a mind of its own; it jumped around against Nikita's stomach searching for a base of ingression.

She was in command, he was allowing it and he followed her mouth with his, not catching up - tongue flicking out, desperately needing to lick her somewhere - anywhere. But she was busy herself, kissing every inch of skin she could reach. She lingered on his lips - licking softly, rushing away from his tongue when it tried to make contact. Flirting with his quickly disintegrating control.

He had his hands on her hips and he was guiding her to ground itself against her very wet apex. Remember he was still wearing his trousers - so the zipper and the weight created havoc with both their sexes. She thought she was moaning - not a sound coming out. He knew he was humming - a chant of an ancient mariner or a yoga instructor - just Hmmmmm.

She moved to remove his pants and he almost cried - desperately missing the contact, his hands searching for her breasts, like a blind man feeling his surroundings. His eyes never leaving hers, no words - who needed them. She moved quickly, knew he couldn't hold up - hell, neither could she. And when he saw her kneel above him, he attached himself to her breast, and ripped the scrap of lace in one quick move, eliciting a sigh from the woman, as he quickly inserted his previously wetted fingers in her channel.

She was crying softly, panting as he finger fucked her desperate hole - thumb caressing her pebble. Her hips moved up and down imitating her sounds. Her head thrown back in total abandon, her hair loose making her look feral and wild. He was holding unto his penis duplicating his finger movement with his fist. His eyes shuttered, would open every once in a while to catch a glimpse of the siren above him. He felt her grind herself unto his digits, her inner muscles massaging him there and she let out a rasping groan, moved both his hands and fiercely plunged herself unto his manhood.

Michael let out a gasp, then a groan, grabbed her waist with both hands, gave her a look of desperation, of apology, of need and he started to move with purpose. His very hard, very large over sensitized rod plunging in and out of the woman, whose vagina was collapsed around his penis. He wouldn't pull out much, just enough to feel himself against her inner walls like a battering ram, destroying any barriers.

She was an electrical wire - live with a charge of electricity that consumed her. He looked at her ferally and issued an order "Touch yourself Kita - pleasure my sight."

She was falling apart, her eyes begging to allow her to stop, for the pleasure was too much. Her orgasms had no beginning, no ends, just one continuous invasion of her senses that was threatening to drive her insane.

He was coming, could feel it, told her so - "Kita baby I'm going to cum."

He gained control and maneuvered his explosion with the precision of a master sculpturer - around, no stop, a little to the left, cut here, pound there, soften this corner, sharpen that one. He was digging his hands unto her waist, pushing on her ass, biting on her nipples, on her chin and on her neck. His tongue out of his mouth, finally licking his way to heaven...what did the French call it - "Le Petit Morte? It was much more than that.

Michael positioned his luge for a final run - her canal slick with all the juices that were flowing and smoothly - a world cup performance - he slid unto heaven - exploding in a firework display of orgasmic fulfillment - "Shit Kita, what you do to me...I Love You!" The words screamed who cared who heard - The Lord got laid - there! /////

Nikita and Michael held each other for some time. Their rapid heart beats and laborious breathing relaxing. The early evening was wet and brisk. The traffic busy, the automobile lights glancing through the foggy ambiance.

"Driving in this city must be really hard." The blonde beauty said kissing Michael's lips softly, his eyes closed. She was admiring her ring, smelling her flowers.

"Kita...I may sound a bit melodramatic, but I must tell you this." He was stroking her back and helping her get dressed. "When we join it is enchanting - I feel that nothing can stop me - only you. I have mapped your body in my mind, I know everyone one of your curves, every one of your swells, everyone of your..." He kissed her and looked down, embarrassed at this display of weakness on his part. "While you were gone I missed you so much I felt...I felt a physical pain inside me."

She smiled, her clear blue eyes dancing. She kissed him, softly in an almost venerating way. "Michael do you know that my life was awful when I was a child, when I was a teenager...when I was in the foster care system I had to run. When I was afraid, and there were many many nights when I was terrified...my dreams kept me going, made me pick myself up and go forward." He nodded his head, stroking her hair and her eyebrow. "You my darlings were my dream."

He kissed her and went to say something, but she stopped him. Their clothes in some semblance of order (except for the torn panties and the wet camisole.) He took the brush from her hand, moved her so he sat behind her and started combing her hair.

"You were the secret agent. Madelyn said that the man in the dreams was the one I needed to protect me, to take care of me, to stop the vulnerability of my existence. And it was you. How do I know - your circumspection, your care, your attention, your soft voice, your need...I have no doubt it was you I conjured up. And because of you, because of my dreams I survived, I progressed, I was able to get to this place...I'm never leaving, no matter how it gets. I love you." She said and smiled "I am not your weakness, I am your strength."

"And vice versa." He said. "No more serious talk. Wait until you meet my family. A bit odd I assure you, but...quite loving." Michael told her.

"Hmm, do you think I will get used to driving in this continent?" She added.

"And if you don't, I'll get you a chauffeur. Kita, you now are wealthy." Michael said finishing her hair. "There." Handing her the brush.

She asked putting the brush in her purse. "Do I call your grandmother..."

Michael interrupted, "Adrian will be fine, that is what I call her."

They arrived at the mansion and Nikita's mouth opened in awe. "Jeez, Madelyn told me it was big, but this is...big!" She laughed. "She says it is yours."

"It is, but Paul has always lived here, so I consider it his." Michael said "Perhaps we should give it to them as a wedding present." He added as they drove the long driveway.

Nikita asked confused "A present to them for our wedding?"

"No, a present to them for their wedding." Michael answered softly, kissing her again.

"Wait - who? What wedding?" She asked.

"Paul and Madelyn...I see...chemistry. She has not said anything?" Michael asked very interested.

"No...yeah, she said she couldn't wait to do the 'buck tooth rumba' with him."

"She did not." Michael added laughing.

"She's been hanging around with your Grandfather Walter." Nikita laughed also.

The limo came to a stop and Michael told her, kidding. "The man is impossible - promise you won't get too friendly with him."

"Too late Michael - I am in love with him already." Nikita said as the Chauffeur opened the door.

The door of the mansion also opened Steven ran out screaming for Nikita. A German Shepherd puppy running next to his feet, tripping the yelling boy "Down Hazard." Nikita herself hurried out of the limousine, she had missed Steven.

"Steven, I missed you, and who is this?" As the dog jumped and stood on his back legs to greet the blonde woman who picked the boy up and hugged him fiercely.

Out came Madelyn, Walter, Adrian and finally Paul who gasped when he saw Nikita. She didn't recognize him and smiled hugging Madelyn, then Adrian and Paul. Finally Walter said, "Come here Sugar. Did you tell Michael we are running away together?" Everyone laughed, including Michael who hugged the pony tailed, bandana-wearing motorcycle riding old coot - "Walter is insatiable Kita."

"Michael" Lady Adrian scolded. "That's supposed to be my secret."

The evening went splendidly, Paul was quiet, observing. Michael had noticed but said not a word. At first he thought that Paul didn't like Nikita, he stayed clear of her. Paul decided, once Steven had gone to bed that he would come clean, what did he have to loose, he wasn't even sure if any of these coincidences were real.

"Nikita, do you remember me? We have met before." Paul said.

Michael stiffened, he didn't know what to expect. She cocked her head and said, "I don't think so. When did we meet?"

"I was the husband of the woman that shot you." Paul said, pointing to her scar, covered now by the plastic surgery Paul had paid for and good make-up.

"Oh God" Nikita said and moved to hug Paul. "I was never able to thank you before, I am so sorry for any trouble I may have caused. I don't understand why you paid for the surgery..."Walter, Madelyn and Adrian watched quietly.

Paul interrupted and Michael stood up, his face - granite. "I should apologize to you. She was mad, on drugs..."

Now Nikita interrupted "I am sorry Paul. Michael told me about your loss, about your pain...but now you have Maddy." She laughed.

"Nikita." Madelyn almost yelled. Lady Adrian covered her smile and Walter let out a laugh.

"...to help you. She is a terrific therapist." Nikita said winking at Maddy and Michael laughed.

"Could we talk later about this Paul, please." Nikita said.

"Absolutely...did you bring your medical records from the hospital stay?" Paul asked trying to determine if she had seen the DNA test.

"No, I figured I would never need them again. It was this great big envelope, so I pitched them when I packed. Why did you need them for insurance purposes?" She innocently asked.

"No, just for curiosity sake." Paul added.

They went out to eat in a very stuffy restaurant near the Clinic. They gave Nikita a tour of the offices, not of the actual facility where the patients were. They gave her a quick tour of Walter and Adrian's mansion, this property would also be Michael's some day. Adrian had a remarkable green thumb and the gardens, under her close supervision, were spectacular.

Nikita commented "Lady Adrian these gardens are sensational."

"Call me Adrian Nikita. You are going to be my grand-daughter." Adrian said. "And hopefully my friend."

Nikita laced her arm with Adrian's and smiled, kissing her cheek. Walter came behind the two women, separated them and put an arm around each woman's shoulders. "My two girls."

Michael joined them and took his Grandfather's arm from around Nikita and smiled. "Walter, she is taken - see the rock?"

"Just because you are tall, rich and look like your handsome Grandfather, don't think you could beat me if I put my mind to taking her away from you. The thing is I have this old broad that drives me wild. So you can have Sugar. " He laughed, so did everyone else.

(End of Part One)