“A field agent shouldn’t make assumptions,” Janson said, but he could feel the pulse beneath her warm, silky skin, and it seemed to keep rhythm with his own.

“I remember something you once wrote, about interagency cooperation between nations. ‘To work together as allies, it is important that any unresolved tensions be addressed through a free and open exchange.’” There was laughter in her eyes. And then something softer, something like heat. “Just close your eyes and think of your country.”

Now she stood closer and parted her bathrobe. Her breasts were two perfectly shaped globes, the nipples swollen with tension, and she leaned toward him, cupping his face now with her hands. Her gaze was warm and unwavering. “I’m ready to accept your diplomatic mission.”

As she started to remove his shirt, Janson said, “There’s an ordinance in the reg book prohibiting fraternization.”

She pressed her lips to his, smothering his halfhearted demurrals. “You call this fraternization?” she said, shouldering off her robe. “Come on, everyone knows what a great deep-penetration agent you are.”

He became aware of a delicate fragrance that emanated from her body. Her lips were soft and swollen and moist, and they moved across his face to his mouth, inviting his into hers. Her fingers gently stroked his cheeks, his jawline, his ears. He could feel her breasts, soft yet firm, pressed against his chest, and her legs thrust against his, matching his strength with hers.

Then, abruptly, she began to tremble, and convulsive sobs came from her throat even as she gripped him all the more fiercely. Gently, he pulled her face back, and saw that her cheeks were now stained with tears. He saw the pain in her eyes, pain that was compounded by her own fear, and her humiliation that he was now witness to it.

“Jessie,” he said softly. “Jessie.”

She shook her head, helplessly, and then cradled it against his deeply muscled chest. “I’ve never felt so alone,” she said. “So frightened.”

“You’re not alone,” Janson said. “And fear is what keeps us alive.”

“You don’t know what it’s like to be afraid.”

He kissed her forehead tenderly. “You’ve got it wrong. I’m always afraid. Like I say, it’s why I’m still here. It’s why we’re here together.”

She pulled him to her with a savage intensity. “Make love to me,” she said. “I need to feel what you feel. I need to feel it now.”

Two intertwined bodies rolled over on the still-made bed, flushed with an almost desperate passion, flexing and shuddering toward a moment of fleshly communion. “You’re not alone, my love,” Janson murmured. “Neither of us is. Not anymore.”