Chapter 47: In For The Kill

The Chardonnay Harry sipped tasted like blood in his mouth. He busied himself by mentally calculating how much of his public service salary would go for it. He smiled flirtatiously at the woman across from him, a tiny, round glass table separating them.

"How is it possible," he asked, "that you are more beautiful each time I see you?"

Hard to please Julia found herself blushing at the corny statement, pleased at the compliment and warmed by the wine. She was feeling especially adventurous tonight and seeing the lengths he had gone to, it seemed he was as well. "Is that why you vanished for three days?" she asked teasingly, a slight accusation in her voice. "To test your theory? I had almost returned to Chicago you know."

George laughed loudly, throwing his head back in the process. He had to remain in character or this cunning fix of a woman would tell something was off. "Did you miss me, my sweet?" He asked teasingly. "Did you miss what I do to your body?"

Clearing her throat, she changed the topic, not ready to test those waters yet. "Where did you go?" she asked, genuinely curious.

Harry's brows went up in surprise, "I am surprised you're asking. Really. You always struck me as not caring about my personal business."

"Did I now?" she asked, feigning surprise. "You never complained."

"And I still am not," Harry answered easily. "Just surprised is all."

Julia pouted at him, looking approvingly at the dinner set up. He certainly had gone all the way. Harry noted her gaze, impressed with himself that his plan seemed to be working. So far, at least. They had always met at their favorite hotel for their rendezvous, but this time, he decided things would be done on his own terms and turf. Well, not exactly his turf, he thought, as this was still a hotel room, but at least he had found it and paid for it himself this time.

He found a hotel in the area -- not billionaire standard, but a good one -- and paid for his room to be transformed into the ultimate romantic dinner location. Candles, roses, wine and a three-course meal. The hotel had certainly outdone itself. The bill gave him a headache every time he thought about it, but he focused on the bigger picture. His honor had been lost, as far as he was concerned, and had to be retrieved. This was the only way.

He raised his glass and she raised hers in response with a wry smile, her red-painted lips that were once alluring to him looking more like that of a pretty witch now. "A beautiful night for a beautiful woman,” he toasted. "Cheers."

"Cheers," she responded, taking a big gulp of wine and smiling flirtatiously. "Careful now," she said in her most sensuous tone. "One might be forgiven for thinking you were starting to fall in love with me."

"Nothing of the sort, I assure you," he laughed, knowing accepting would be a huge error; a woman like Julia wanted no long-term unions. Nothing that would potentially put her marriage at risk and get her cut-off. Her comfort was priority; more important than all else. "It's been difficult not to," he flattered her, looking at her hungrily, "but I've managed."

Her pupils were dilated, and she was beginning to look aroused.

For Julia, the combination of Chardonnay, a good dinner, the ambiance and a delicious British man seed was too much for her to handle. Dragging herself out of her chair, she moved to his side. Leaned down to kiss him and unbuckling his belt in the process. Smiling into his eyes, she whispered, "I did miss you. I see you missed me too." She added, referring to the tell-tale bulge in his pants, and with that, she went down on her knees.

What she would never know, was that the bulge in his pants was no longer thanks to her seductive body, but an aphrodisiac Harry had taken prior to this.

***

Harry held his breath as he read the opening words of the first entry contained in the book. He looked around nervously, wondering what he would be charged with if Julie woke up and saw him snooping around. He was at The Continental and Julie was in her bed, asleep. Or at least he hoped so. He had thought long and hard about his next move and had concluded that, if he hoped to get any information from her, it wouldn't be from her lips. She was highly cautious and was yet to let a loose word slip, even in her slightly drunk state or in the throes of orgasm. And he had tried.

But tonight, Harry had thoroughly dealt with her body, pleasuring her with the skills and vigor of a Roman god. The combination of food, spiked liquor and sex would keep her asleep for a while, he hoped. He had searched her purse quickly, delighted to find a diary with a lock. The woman had trust issues, he surmised, seeing no other reason why she would lock her diary. Or at least, she had dirty secrets. Oh well, it wasn't a big deal to pick the lock. It had a simple mechanism, and was more of a precaution than an actual security attempt.

The lock opened easily with a few twists and turns using the hair pin he carefully slipped out of her hair.

What he had found was much more than he could have ever hoped for. The journal wasn't your regular kind of journal. It was a detailed one, by the looks of the length of each daily entry. He settled down to read, setting his timer for fifteen minutes.

Lamentations about how she grew up in less than convenient conditions were the talks of the first few pages. But there was nothing about Isla or Richard's case even at thirty percent of the diary, and that was what he needed.

Ten minutes later, he was on the verge of giving up on the mission when his eye fell at the words on the page he had reluctantly turned in the book. The entry read,

July 21, 2009

Finally, I have found a way to hurt- really hurt my adversary...