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Page 52.

"Luxembourg became a banking and tax haven like Switzerland."

"With rich friends in high places around the world," Rick echoed.

"Whatever. There's good and there's bad. Not all zillionaires are bad; I was owned by one of the worst. It's a mix. So Luxembourg started making connections with China—smart, but dangerous—like a flea sitting on an elephant, drinking lots of nice blood until you get squished."

"It's over our pay grade," Rick concluded. "We have so much else to worry about, like survival." He liked to voraciously read popular history books. He wanted to understand more about where humans had been and where they were going. He hoped to gain admission one day, somehow, into a university, gain his degrees, and teach. That all seemed a long way off right now.

They explored the small house of Romain and Mélusine. From photos decorating the living room, Rick noted that she was an attractive, pale-skinned young woman. Romain was the darker-haired and café-aut-lait colored of the couple, a handsome young man with a determined expression and intelligent dark eyes in the photos. Hopefully, he was an ally in this crazy venture.

"She said to take the guest bedroom," Hannah told Rick.

The walls inside the house were white plaster, like the whitewash outside. This was offset with dark wood wainscoting and crown molding that gave it a kind of Bavarian look (so Rick thought of it). The living room was cozy, with a plush faux-bear skin rug on a plank floor. Book cases brimmed with old-fashioned print books, and a million knick-knacks (marble statuettes, stone vases, glass photo frames, and more). Against one wall stood an extra-large video screen set in a media center with the latest sound speakers.

The kitchen was modern and sleek—small but tidy, and functional.

The bathrooms were clean and fragrant.

They did not venture upstairs, where Mélu and Romain had their large bedroom and bath.

Downstairs by the rear entrance was the smaller guest suite, consisting of a little bedroom with double bed, and a bathroom with shower but no tub. The floors downstairs were set in glossy, brick-colored Spanish pavers, covered with throw rugs. There were more bookcases, photos, and knick-knacks.

"We have to shower," Hannah told him.

Rick threw his backpack on the bed. "With my last ounce of strength. You go first."

She giggled. "Want to shower with me?"

"Oh my lord. You'll see me naked, and my flag has been at full mast all day long around you."

"I will lower your flag after I raise it," she promised. "I will blow the bugle and give you taps."

They wandered into the bathroom in the guest suite. It was a square room with sink and shower, and a separate little toilet off to one side, up a step, with a door for privacy.

"I need to find the laundry," Hannah said as she peeled his clothes off for him.

He obliged, unbuttoning and unzipping and peeling hers as well.

In a few moments, they stood adoring each other in the pink.

"I don't even want to touch you," she said, "not because you are dirty and smell like a bear in the forest, but if I start I won't stop."

"Licking each other's ice cream," he finished her sentence. He thought of the abuse she had been through, and was glad she retained a healthy interest in life, sex, and ice cream.

"Man-flavored ice cream," he said suggestively as they stood in the glass shower cubicle, surrounded by steam, and lathering up with Mélusine's lemony-scented herbal soap.

She cupped his privates and pressed them to his body with an eager hand. "Oh baby, I didn't know you would feel so nice." She leaned into him and gave him a long, tonguey kiss.

He took her naked form, wet and soapy, into his hands as he responded tongue-on-tongue.

They showered long and hard, soaping and scrubbing each other.

"We deserve this," he said.

"We worked hard for it," she agreed. She tossed an arm over his neck, pulling his head close to her small, pink-nippled breasts. "Try some woman-flavored ice cream."

He mouthed her firm boobs, one after the other, and made happy sounds. At the same time, his hand explored the fur on her Venus mound, and the moist, yielding cleft that melted open as he touched down there. She stood slightly up and apart on the balls of her feet as she let him touch her where he wanted (and she wanted). She steadied herself with her hands on his shoulders. "I am going to fall over in ecstasy," she whispered. "Oh yes. There. And there. That's right."

They toweled dry quickly and marched hand-in-hand to the bed.

Crawling under the covers, they entwined like one body. The feeling of her skin on his, her bones and muscles against his, her blood throbbing against his, her breath going in and out in ragged gasps like his own, made him crazy with desire. She clawed at him with her small, delicate, but surprisingly strong and determined hands. "Take me," she whispered. "Oh god Richard take me I am yours every bit of me my heart and soul, baby, do me now all the way. Put that rod inside of me and make me come. Oh god oh god oh god how I need you. And I love you, I do."

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