Michael walked into Madeline’s office and waited until she acknowledged him.
“Yes, Michael?” Madeline asked as she looked up from her computer screen.
Madeline had seen Michael enter her office and knew that he was going to ask for permission to take Nikita out. This mission was going to hinge on how believable they were as a married couple. The terrorist was a security freak. Every room in his home was monitored, audio and video, and he prided himself on looking at the tapes of all visitors personally. If there was even a hint of shyness in either of them the mission would fail. At least that was going to be the reason that Michael gave her for this evening out. Madeline knew better. Even though Michael hid his emotions, from himself as much as everyone else, she could see how much he cared for Nikita. This mission was an excuse to explore those feelings he denied.
“Nikita and I need some time to get into character for this mission. It would hurt our appearance as husband and wife if she cringed when I reached for her, or if I flinched when she caressed me. Tonight we’ll go to dinner, maybe dancing and then spend the night at my apartment. In the morning we’ll be back here, ready to go.”
“That sounds acceptable. Leave early. And be back here by seven o’clock in the morning. I’ll want to talk to you both about your evening before you go out on the mission.”
Madeline smirked internally. Michael turned to leave, but before he could get to the door Madeline stopped him.
“By the way, have fun.”
As the doors closed behind him Michael could have sworn that he heard her laughing.
Nikita met Michael at the restaurant. She wanted to shock him, and succeeded beyond her wildest dreams. She walked through the doors purposely five minutes late, and she could feel the moment his eyes fell on her. About ten seconds later he recovered enough to pick his chin up off his chest. Her hair was in an upsweep, tendrils falling and caressing her neck. The dress she wore was as he requested, long. It had thin spagetthi straps that barely kept the dress from sliding down her body. It gently skimmed her curves in front and fell to the ground in a pool of silver silk. Michael came to escort her to her seat and finally got a look at her back. All of her back. As far as he could tell the back of the dress began at the curve of her ass. If he looked not very closely he could see the shadow of her crevice. If she’s wearing anything under that dress, it’s a miracle. As they walked he could see that there was also a slit on the side. A very high slit. With every step her right leg was revealed to the thigh, which revealed that she was, in fact, wearing something under her dress. Thigh-high hose, with lace banded around the top. Michael thanked God that they reached their table without him embarrassing himself with a display that would leave no doubt in Nikita’s mind how he felt about her.
Nikita mind was reeling as she took in Michael’s reaction to her dress. His eyes went from irritated murky green, to welcoming warm green to blazing hot silver-green in about five seconds. The desire in his eyes was readable from across the length of the restaurant. As he rose to take her to the table Nikita noticed what he was wearing. He was in a suit and tie but it took her a second to notice the difference. The jacket and pants were black, but the shirt was the most subtle shade of hunter green she had ever seen. If he stood anywhere but in full light you would swear that he was in all black but once the light hit the shirt you could see the green come out. And if she was not mistaken there was a hint of silver woven into the band collar. As he took her arm to lead her to the table she heard the swift, shuddery intake of breath. So, he finally got a look at the back of this thing. Then he placed a hand at the small of her back, and her breath matched his own. With that short gasp of air, she took his scent into her. He smelled of woods, and outdoors, and soap, and under every other fragrance she could smell him. Just him. Mysterious, masculine, sensuous, strong enveloping, and... erotic. By the time they reached the table Nikita was reeling from the sensations.
“You look exquisite. That dress. I am in awe.” Michael hoped she couldn’t see the effect that dress was having on his control. “How does that thing stay up?”
Nikita smiled at him as she pulled herself back together. “Sheer will-power and audacity. Besides I paid too much for this to have it leave me before I’ve gotten my money’s worth. I must say that you do clean up quite well. And are my eyes deceiving me or is that an actual color that I see you wearing.”
“I do own a few items that are not black. I just don’t have occasion to wear them very often.” Michael wondered what she would think of his closet at home. He had one entire room devoted to clothes. His choices at Section were practical. Since he never knew where he was going to be, black was always acceptable. Though since Simone’s death he rarely wore any of his more colorful clothes, even when he was alone. They were too much a reminder of what it felt like to be truly alive. “Besides, you wear enough color for five people. In one outfit.”
Just then the waiter came to table to take their orders. Michael preferred his own cooking but if he were to take Nikita to his place now things would escalate far too quickly. And forget about cooking at her apartment. I’m surprised that she can even boil water in that little postage stamp called a kitchen.
<”We’ll start with the mixed greens salad, vinaigrette dressing. Then we’ll have the salmon, with the wild rice, and asparagus. And the ‘92 Pindar White Zinfandel.’> Michael ordered authoritatively, in French.
“Very good, sir. I’ll be out momentarily with your salads.”
“How did you know that I liked fish. Or that I wasn’t allergic to any of the things that you ordered?” Nikita asked. Just a bit surprised that he would order for her, without verifying her wishes.
“I’m your husband. I should know these things about you. Don’t you think? Besides your allergies are in your file.” Michael was smirking at the look of consternation on her face. He leaned close to her and kissed her ear. “Don’t you like what I ordered for you?” he asked in a sensuous whisper. “Next time I’ll have to make you a meal myself. After all you do for me I thought you would like a night out. Dinner, dancing, romance. You know all those things we haven’t done in ages. What better time than our anniversary, darling.” Michael looked at her mournfully as he sat back in his chair. “Don’t tell me that you’ve forgotten our first date. Two years of watching you. Waiting for my chance. Finally getting the nerve to ask the most glorious woman that I’d ever seen to dinner. Then being together ever since that night. The past two years have been nothing less than splendid. Jeanette, I have something for you,” he pulled a small box out of his jacket pocket. Just then the waiter came back with their salads. “Here, open it after dinner. I wouldn’t want to be responsible for you losing your appetite.”
They spent the next two hours enjoying themselves. Michael opened up and let Nikita see his other side. She always suspected that he had a sense of humor. But Tonight he was outrageous. He had this way of deadpanning the most ridiculous statements that had her rolling, figuratively of course. He was also giving her insight into his intellect. She knew that he was very intelligent. Had known this for ages. It was one of his attractive qualities. But he saw so much more than anyone ever gave him credit for. And he had the ability to study, intensely. If life had been different for him he would probably have multiple degrees from the best colleges and universities in the world. But his brilliance was not off-putting. He didn’t make her feel stupid for not being as well read as he was. He made sure that she could draw parallels to her own unique existence.
Michael could not remember a more enjoyable conversation. Nikita was an absolutely captivating dinner partner. She held her own in every conversation, no matter the subject. She actually appreciated his sense of humor and gave as good as she got. He loved watching how her mind worked. Whether she was ferreting out the punchline in one of his jokes, or if they were discussing assisted suicide among the terminally ill. But all through dinner he could see her eyeing the small, beautifully wrapped box sitting next to her plate. Finally the waiter brought their coffee to the table.
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