Kirsten had managed to find a light blue gown that bared her shoulders and arms and showed the merest hint of delicious cleavage. Her gown came to mid calf and Luke thought her mid calves were excellent, as were her shoulders and cleavage. In short, he felt damned lucky to have her on his arm.
Despite being in deep mourning from the recent loss of her son, Mamie Eisenhower had offered to help and suggested a secondhand dress shop to Kirsten and it was where she’d found the dress. Kirsten gratefully accepted her help. She knew that doing something to help someone was one way for Mamie to cope with her terrible personal loss.
Pragmatically, Kirsten hadn’t yet decided whether she would keep the dress or sell it back next week as so many women did after a big event.
They’d eaten from the bountiful buffet—grilled salmon had tempted them and they’d succumbed—and had a glass of local wine by Inglenook which was surprisingly good. They followed with a glass of Krug champagne.
A band was playing in the corner, but no one paid it much attention. Luke was intrigued by the stares they were getting. Beauty and the Beast, he decided, and he knew which one he was.
A slightly high pitched man’s voice intruded. “My dear, I have no idea who you are, but you could have chosen better blindfolded.”
Luke grinned. “Kirsten, allow me to introduce you to Major, I mean Colonel,” as he saw the eagles on Patton’s shoulder, “George Patton, sometimes mentor, sometimes aggravating, but always a friend.”
Patton reached over, kissed Kirsten’s hand, glanced down her cleavage, and said something in French. To his astonishment, she responded in kind.
“My God, Luke, where did you find this beautiful pearl beyond price?”
Kirsten squeezed Luke’s arm. “I was a damsel in distress and he my knight errant. After that, it was impossible not to like him.”
“You are truly meant for each other,” Patton sighed.
“And when did you become a colonel, George?” Luke asked.
Patton shrugged. “About ten minutes after they took me from the 7th Cavalry and said they had something special and important for me to do. Don’t ask, because I don’t frankly know what it is and, if I did, probably couldn’t tell you much at all. Secrets, you know. All I do know is that I’m to be in Seattle on Monday, and, trust me, I have no idea why. Some special project with the Brits is the rumor, and that may be good news. The Brits have been snuggling closer and closer to us. I don’t think they’re quite ready to jump in on our side, but a few months from now? Who can tell?”
He laughed. “And as to the rank, who knows. Maybe I’ll be come a field marshal if this war lasts long enough.”
After a few more comments, Patton departed. Luke and Kirsten socialized with those they knew and found that number surprisingly large. Of course, all his acquaintances wanted to meet Kirsten, not chat with him, and he felt a twinge of jealousy. What the hell did she see in him, anyhow? He told himself to stop acting like a little kid. There were five men to every woman at the party, so of course Kirsten would be the center of attention and why shouldn’t she enjoy the hell out of it. After all, wasn’t that why he’d brought her, so she could get out and enjoy herself? Luke, he thought to himself, sometimes you are a complete jackass.
About eleven, Kirsten suggested they leave and Luke concurred. Things were getting just a little bit rowdy; the senior rankers had departed. As Luke turned towards the hotel entrance, she took his arm and steered him to an elevator. “Eight,” she told the stone faced operator.
Like a lamb, Luke allowed himself to be led down a hallway to a door on the eighth floor. Kirsten took a key from her purse and unlocked it. It was not a hotel room. Instead, it was a suite and it had a stunning view of the city.
“I believe in planning ahead, Luke. I hope you don’t mind. The suite belongs to Mr. Griffith and Elise borrowed it from him. He believes in helping our soldiers, while the Army, of course, helps him with his movies.”
“How could I possibly mind?” he said. Was this really happening?
“Help me undress.” Yes it was.
He did as ordered and, when she was naked, she undressed him. They looked on each other for a second and then couldn’t contain themselves. They rushed into each others arms and barely made it to the bed. Their coupling was frantic and intense, a tangle of bare legs and arms and clawing hands.
A short while later, their second time was a good deal more sensual and sedate as they took delicious moments to explore each other.
Later, they sprawled in the overlarge tub in the ornate bathroom and sipped glasses of Beringer wine that Kirsten had arranged for. “You will marry me, won’t you dear Kirsten?”
“Of course, dear Luke. I love you more than you can imagine. But I won’t marry you until this damned war is over. I have no urge to be a widow a second time. Maybe I could deal with losing a lover, but never another husband.”
She ran her hands over his body, pausing at the many scars. “Just how many times have you been wounded?”
“I’m not too sure. I suppose it depends on how you define the term.”
“Well, stop it.”
“I’ll do my best.”
She slid on her side, exposing a luscious pink nipple. He leaned over and kissed it and she giggled. “Now you tell me—do you plan on staying in the Army?”
“No. I made that decision a while after I met you. I realized that I couldn’t expect you to be a wife of an officer who would never rise very far, regardless of his abilities.”
“Well then, just how do you plan on supporting me?”
“Southern California is rich and lush and people are dumping prime properties at pennies on the dollar, sometimes pennies on the ten dollar. The pessimists seem to think the Germans might win. I don’t, so I’ve been putting my savings into buying farms and,” he sipped his wine and grinned, “some wineries. I don’t know much about either, but I know I can learn.”
She nodded thoughtfully. He was taking a chance with all his hard-earned money and his future in the military on her behalf. By leaving the Army, he was also throwing away a pension, however small.
As to their investing in wineries, the Prohibition Amendment appeared truly dead. Only thirty states had ratified the amendment and it seemed to be losing what popularity it had. Wine-making was an intriguing thought and one she’d looked into for herself. There were more than two hundred vineyards in the Sonoma Valley alone.
She smiled as she realized that she’d been idly stroking his manhood as she used to do with her husband, and it had responded magnificently. Dear, dear, she thought, it has been a while for the poor man. And for herself as well, she added.
She straddled him carefully, so as to not splash water on the floor, and guided him into her. Like the first times, she gasped with pleasure and half closed her eyes as he filled her. He thought she looked like a cat ready to pounce on a mouse and he was the mouse.
“Go slowly,” she purred, “Very, very slowly.”
George Catlett Marshall hated being called a genius. All he wanted to do was do his job in the best manner possible. Nature, however, was conspiring just now to make him look like a fool. He stood on the east bank of the Columbia River tributary and looked across the rapidly flowing water. His engineers were crawling all over the bridge destroyed by Klaus Wulfram, and had already determined that, yes, it could be rebuilt, but, no, it wouldn’t be anytime soon. It was all he had expected, but he was supposed to solve the problem. After all, he was a genius, wasn’t he?