The Harold Palmer Affair Part V

[Silktie]

Warning: Contains suggestive language


My, what big, erm, lips you have



On Friday morning, Harry stepped through the doors with holdall in hand. Beth happened to be passing and eyed the small holdall speculatively.
“Harry-“
Her boss held up an authoritative hand. “I am not discussing what underwear I packed with you. In fact, if you ever mention the topic to me again, you will find yourself back in Colombia so fast your head will spin. Are we clear?”
She retreated. “Yes. I was merely going to compliment you on being an efficient traveller. No woman could ever last a weekend with the contents of such a small bag.”
He eyed her suspiciously, not convinced in the least, before proceeding to his office.

As he passed Ruth’s desk, he turned his head to greet her, but the words died on his lips when he saw the magazines scattered all over her worktop. As far as he could see, they were all women’s magazines or gossip rags. In fact, she was currently perusing a copy of Hello! with a headline screaming that some androgynous starlet he’d never heard of was caught scrumping a second rate footballer.
“Ruth, what are you doing?” He’d never in a million years clocked her as being interested in the latest social gossip.
She looked up to find him staring at the magazine in her hand distastefully.
“Research,” she responded before turning a page.
Harry lifted an eyebrow inviting her to explain further.
“Oh. I’m supposed to be a PA, so I thought I’d better be able to hold a discussion about more basic things than ancient literature, politics or terrorist threats. Besides, who knows what kind of woman Mr Fedorov will be bringing along for the weekend?”
He’d also wondered about that, but decided that now was not the time to voice his suspicion that the woman was likely to be a stripper or high class prostitute.
“Good thinking. Are you packed and ready?”
She nodded at a small suitcase by her feet in response, and Harry was pleasantly surprised at its modest nature.
He smiled, and murmured confidentially, “Don’t show it to Beth. She’ll probably accuse you of betraying your female brethren.”
She frowned in confusion at the comment as he disappeared into his office.

Truth be told, Harry was worried about the weekend. Not for the obvious reasons, although the extent of self-control he might be called on to display was of great concern. But as he sat in his office and watched Ruth slog through the magazines, his greatest worry was about their safety. Alec was right, they’d have no back-up, and as much as he admired Ruth’s skills, she wouldn’t be much use if things turned violent. And he could hardly pack a gun to a dirty weekend. That’d be hard to explain to their host, should he find out. Oh that? It’s for a little role-play we like to do… He shook his head at the absurd thought. What they needed was a safehouse nearby, where someone could leave them a few emergency supplies. With a sigh Harry picked up the phone and called one of his contacts in the DGSE. He hated working with the French, but he had no option. He was not going to endanger Ruth any more than was necessary.

* * *

It was seven o’clock when they pulled up to the private airstrip just outside London. Harry switched off the engine and they sat motionless, staring at the jet waiting on the runway.
“Still time to change your mind,” he said, not sure which answer he hoped for most. If she didn’t go, she’d be safe here in London, but if she did go, he’d get to spend a whole glorious weekend in her company. When he looked at her, she shook her head wordlessly, and truth be told he never really expected a different answer. Ruth was one of the bravest people he knew, and she would never shirk her responsibility.
“Okay. But you need to remember that I’m in charge, Ruth. I will determine when our safety has been compromised. So if I say we go, or you go, you follow that order without argument. Our lives may depend upon it.”
He looked extremely serious, and she could see his deep seated fear for her safety in his eyes, even though he tried hard to hide it.
“I won’t forget,” she reassured him, “you’re in charge.”
Harry held her eyes for a moment, assuring himself that she meant it, before getting out of the car and collecting their bags.

They were alone on the flight, as Fedorov and his mistress had apparently gone to France the night before. Ruth was glad of the respite. She sat quietly next to Harry, the warmth of his arm pressed against hers a reassuring reminder of his presence. His concern over their safety, and more specifically hers, had shaken her somewhat. But she knew unequivocally that he was the person she trusted more than any other, and she would willingly put her life in his hands. He had proven more than once, after all, just how far he was prepared to go to keep her safe. No, they would be all right, Harry would see to that.

That left her with thoughts of sharing a room and a bed with him for a whole weekend. How on earth was she going to do that without doing or saying something stupid? She couldn’t afford to lose focus, but to be in his alluring presence for 24 hours a day was going to make that extremely difficult. How strange, she thought, that despite knowing him for so long, she should still find him so irresistible. His eyes were closed as he leaned his head back against the headrest, and she could study his features unobserved. There was nothing outstandingly attractive about that face, except that it was his. Coupled with everything she knew about him, the good and the bad, it morphed into a package she had no resistance against. He was one of those exceptionally rare men whose character made you look closer, and notice that a face that looked ordinary at first glance, was in fact much more than that. He had a gorgeous mouth, she thought, and the most beautiful eyes, and… The list was endless. And now, finally, she didn’t want to pretend anymore that this wasn’t true. In that moment she was happy, sitting quietly next to Harry in a rare instance of relaxation. So she closed her eyes and leaned into him, enjoying the feeling for the rest of the flight.

* * *

It was dark by the time they reached Fedorov’s house. What they could see of it as the taxi’s headlights swept over it, looked authentically rustic and beautiful. As they got out of the car, Fedorov opened the front door and a rectangle of light spilled out onto the gravel drive. A woman appeared behind him, blonde, thin, with enormous breasts. They both boggled at the sight and Ruth heard Harry mutter, “Dear God,” despairingly under his breath, and had to bite her lip to stop from laughing.
“Ah, you made it,” Sergei greeted.
He ushered them inside before making the introductions.
“This is Anastassia.”
She held out a long, slender hand. “Call me Tasha,” she said with a bright smile, in an irritatingly high-pitched voice.

They shook hands with her, Harry swiftly pulling his away when he felt her caressing the back of his hand with her thumb. Ruth noticed the flicker of discomfort that crossed his face and wove her arm through his possessively. In response he slid his arm around her and pulled her snug against him, leaving the blonde under no illusions as to which woman in the room he preferred. The corners of her mouth turned down in displeasure and she folded her arms, pushing up her breasts even more. Harry was gazing into Ruth’s eyes and didn’t notice.
“I’ll show you your room and leave you to settle in, then we can have dinner,” Fedorov announced before leading them up the stairs.

As soon as the door closed and they were alone, Harry put his finger to his lips and got Tariq’s gadget out of his shaving bag. While Ruth unpacked and enthused about the lovely house, the large room and the huge bed, he thoroughly swept the entire room and en suite for bugs.
“Clear,” he finally announced and both heaved a sigh of relief.
They sat down next to each other on the edge of the bed, leaving a respectable gap between them.
“Wow,” Ruth said, “our hostess is quite a woman.”
“You think so?” Harry sounded decidedly grumpy.
“She has impressive assets,” Ruth replied with a straight face.
“Hmpf,” Harry huffed, unimpressed. “There is nothing natural about that woman.” He counted off on his fingers. “She’s not blonde, that’s not the nose she was born with, and she looks like a guppy from too much botox. To cap it all, those fake breasts are so stiff that a man is likely to lose an eye if he should miscalculate in the heat of passion.”

Ruth’s attempts not to laugh became futile and it escaped her in an inelegant snort. She found him unspeakably adorable when he went off on these little rants of his, and the image his last words evoked pushed her over the edge. Harry fell quiet as a smile grew on his face. He could never stop himself from lightening up when she laughed like that; it was like music to his ears.
“Come on, we’d better get out there.” He stood and turned to the door.
“Wait.” Ruth stopped him by placing both hands on his chest. “Lose the jacket and tie,” she advised, and before she’d thought about what she was doing she’d slid his jacket off his shoulders and was reaching for his tie.

Her brain caught up with her actions and she froze, her eyes leaping to his. They glittered back at her in the muted light, and she became painfully aware of everything: that they were in Provence, in a lovely old house, alone in a beautiful room with a balcony and a huge and comfortable bed. And that her hands were resting on his chest, so that she could feel the warmth of his skin through the shirt, and that the rhythm of his breathing had become deeper and faster. Harry’s hands came up and folded gently around her wrists, before sliding up and covering hers. Wordlessly he moved her hands to his tie, encouraging her to finish what she’d started, before sliding back down her arms and lightly resting there. She couldn’t tear her gaze from his as her hands completed their task, slowly undoing the knot before pulling the copper-brown silk from his collar and dropping it on the bed. His thumbs were drawing patterns on her forearms as her hands went back and loosened his first three buttons, before sliding inside the collar and around his neck.
“Ruth,” Harry breathed, when a loud knock shattered the moment. Both took a reluctant step back.
“Dinner’s ready,” Tasha called through the door, and Harry rolled his eyes at Ruth as if to say, duty calls.
She nodded, and their eyes held for a moment longer before they turned to the door in unison.

Dinner was a strange affair. The food was delicious, and Sergei took great pride in boasting about the French chef he employed. Ruth was saddled with making conversation with Tasha as Fedorov ignored the women and tried to draw Harry out about his job. Reading all those magazines seemed to have helped as Ruth chatted away with the other woman, and she smiled warmly at Harry when he gave her an apologetic look. However, Tasha was not to be denied and soon she had monopolised the whole conversation, blabbing on about celebrities she knew, none of whom Harry had ever heard of, and how she had been at what suspiciously sounded like an orgy with some of Roman Abramovich’s footballers.

Harry tried to get the conversation back to some sort of intelligent level by addressing Sergei.
“What do you think of Putin’s latest move to-“
“Ooh!” Tasha interrupted. “Putin… is he that new Russian defender Chelsea signed?”
Harry stared at her incredulously, and opened his mouth. Ruth’s hand clamped onto his thigh and squeezed hard, and he shut his mouth again reluctantly.
“I could do with some more wine, couldn’t you darling?” she smiled sweetly at Harry.
“Yes, yes I could,” thinking that all the wine in the world could not lessen the torture of this evening.

Fedorov and Tasha left to see to it. Ruth took the opportunity to give Harry a warning look.
“This is intolerable,” he complained in response.
“It’s not that bad.”
“Not that bad? Ruth! The woman is an ignorant simpleton-“
“Shhh, they’re coming,” she hissed, and pulled him in for a kiss, trying to distract him from his displeasure at the situation. Harry was more than happy to be distracted, and kissed her back enthusiastically until they were interrupted by Tasha plonking the bottle on the table with undue force.

Harry saw their chance to escape. “Sergei, would you mind awfully if we, er, retired for the night?” He smiled suggestively. “You did invite us over for a dirty weekend, after all.”
Sergei laughed. “Yes I did. Of course, we’ll see you in the morning.”
Harry practically jumped up from the table, then blatantly took the bottle of wine and tucked it under his arm.
“Goodnight then. Tasha,” he nodded in her general direction before shepherding Ruth out of the room with his hand on her backside.

tbc

[pookster]

*smirk* at Harry and Ruth in this. Nice moments between them - especially the scene in the bedroom. Very nice.

[Aria]

Another great chapter, Silktie. I almost feel sorry for poor Tasha as she might not live through the weekend if Harry has his way

[Fidget]

Another great chapter, I can't wait for the next one

[Tineke]

Nice chapter again, Silktie.
Particularly liked this sentence: 'He was one of those exceptionally rare men whose character made you look closer, and notice that a face that looked ordinary at first glance, was in fact much more than that.'

[Sparky]

Another great chapter - love how the lines are starting to blur between the operation and 'real life'!

[cateau1]

Thank you for being a fast writer ... I don't think I could wait weeks between these great episodes!

[A Cousin]

TeaLady - you're on! Get over there and plant some bugs!

Fantastic (again) Silktie! I hope you don't get tired of hearing that because I never get tired of saying it.

I love that Ruth is capable of packing light.
I love Harry's assessment to Tasha. (Lose an eye...HAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!!)
I love Ruth's revelation re: Harry's face. Very well put.
I love the tie-removal moment, although I prefer the red one... Tasha seems to have taken lessons in H/R interruption for Tariq and/or Dmiitri.
I love that the characters you made up are as vivid as the ones we already know.

The only thing I need is a bit of forearm and bicep action. Given the recent picture posted in the PF thread. Pretty please? With a cherry on top?

[DogSoSmall]

I second my American Cousin. I think we all have that image burned onto our retinas at the moment!

Lucky old Ruth. A whole weekend in his "alluring presence".

[Tea Lady]

*goes and books ticket on Eurostar (not using my credit card)*

What I don't understand though is where is Harry going to sleep if there is only one bed?

I'm certainly keen to see a bit of bicep action if possible. Hoping there is another 50 or so chapters to come Silktie.