The first one had come, surprising her with its suddenness, when she watched her husband, his dark head between her pale thighs, kissing, nibbling, sucking, and licking her. The view was a completely different one from just gazing down her torso at him. Mesmerized by the portrait of him even as she felt his mouth and tongue on her clit, she went over the edge in an explosion of sensation that left her gasping for breath. And the night had continued on in that vein. At one point she had taken him in her mouth and milked him dry, his salty, creamy cum spurting down her throat, and he had groaned with his pleasure as he watched her in the mirror.

"Wake up, baby." Ryan's voice pierced her consciousness. "We're going to be landing shortly."

Ashley slowly opened her eyes. "How shortly?" she asked him.

"About forty minutes," he said.

The dream lingered, and frankly she was hot. She really needed to be screwed right now. "You promised me something," she murmured against his ear. Then she got up and headed for the first-class restroom, glancing over her shoulder once as she went to make meaningful eye contact with him.

Ryan couldn't help but grin when he realized to what she was referring. He waited a moment, and then followed her. The compartment was a bit larger than the one in tourist or business, but it was still small. He squeezed into it, throwing the lock shut, pulling her against him as she unzipped his trousers and slipped her hand in to fondle him. The thought of what she had in mind had already begun to have its effect, and it didn't take long for his^penis to stiffen and lengthen. "You are a very bad girl," he said softly as he backed her up against a bulkhead, his hands pushing up her skirt to her waist, discovering she wasn't wearing any panties. "Very bad." He chuckled as his hand cupped her mound, and he found that she was wet. Very wet.

"I was dreaming of last night," Ashley said, her lips against his lips. "You woke me up just as I was sucking you off," she told him.

His hands cupped her buttocks. She wrapped her legs about his middle as he raised her up just enough so that he could push into her wet, hot vagina. Sinking to the hilt, he whispered in her ear, "I love it when you're bad, baby." Then he began to fuck her with quick, sharp strokes until they both quickly climaxed and collapsed weakly against each other. "Welcome to the Mile-high Club, Ash," he said softly, kissing her mouth.

"You are probably the best husband in the world," Ashley said with a deep sigh. She pulled her skirt down. "I really was dreaming about us last night, and when you woke me I was so hot. Now I'll make it home." She turned and washed her hands in the tiny sink, then dried them. "I'll go first," she told him, and slipped from the small compartment, walking back down the wide aisle to her seat. Reaching into her bag she pulled out a small pair of silk briefs, and, since there was no one around them, Ashley slipped them on as Ryan reached their seat.

He grinned. "You weren't wearing those when we got on the plane?"

"Hey, you said you were going to initiate me into the Mile-high Club," Ashley answered. "I thought it better not to wear them until after we had our little rendezvous."

He laughed, genuinely amused. If he had let nature take its course, could he have found a better wife, a life partner, a mate, than Ashley? He didn't think so. And it had been so easy to fall in love with her. He had told Bianca that very thing a couple of nights ago. Restless, he had gotten up and wandered downstairs to the main salon. He had seen Bianca out on the tiled terrace smoking, and had joined her. They really hadn't had a moment alone to talk privately, and they had a lot of catching up to do.

It had been twenty-three years since he had last seen her. He was surprised to see how well she had aged. Hardly at all. Of course, her elderly husband was dead now many years, and he was curious as to why she had never remarried. She had laughed that husky laugh of hers that he still found sexy, and said she enjoyed her freedom.

"I am wealthy. I have my interests, and am on several committees regarding the preservation and well-being of Venezia, cara . When it amuses me I take a lover, but never for too long. And I am very discreet. I am content as I near sixty. My family understands, and I do not have to be alone if I do not choose to be."

"I never had an opportunity to thank you," Ryan said quietly.

"Thank me? For what, cara ?" the contessa asked him.

Ryan smiled. "For taking a boy and turning him into a man that summer. Whatever I've learned about pleasing a woman, Bianca, I learned from you when I was sixteen. I couldn't have had a better tutor. Thank you, cara ."

She laughed. "It was very bad of me. I should not have seduced you, Ryan. Your poor mother. I will never forget the look on her face when she confronted me with it. It was very wrong of your sister to tell her. Our affair would have ended quite naturally when you returned to America in September. I was so sorry your mother felt she had to take you and your sisters home immediately, but at least your father remained to finish his course those last two weeks. He moved in with Venutti, you know."

"I didn't," Ryan said.

"Have you thought of me over the years?" the contessa asked him.

"I have, Bianca, with gratitude. That summer is a bittersweet memory," Ryan told her, and he took her hand and kissed it. "To have loved you once made me realize the treasure that I have in my Ashley. You were my first love. She is, will be, my last love."

"She is a charming and intelligent girl, cara . I hope you will tell her about our summer one day. Perhaps you should have told her about it before you came."

"It is in the past, Bianca," Ryan said. Yes, it was in the past, he thought. The door had closed on it years ago.

"We'll be landing shortly, Mr. and Mrs. Mulcahy," the steward said. "You might want to fasten your safety belts. Weather is fair in New York, and the temperature is currently fifty degrees. Will you have anything to declare?"

"No," Ryan said. "It was a business trip."

"Then you should zip right through customs," the steward replied.

"Bill will be meeting us," Ashley reminded her husband. "And how about those nightgowns in my luggage?"

"Declare them if you want," Ryan said, "but they're women's clothing, and it's your bag, and we'll get through faster if we don't."

"There is a decidedly larcenous streak in you, Ryan Mulcahy," she told him.

They landed smoothly, collected their two bags, and breezed through customs. Bill was awaiting them immediately on the other side of the barrier with a porter, who carried the bags to the car to be loaded into the trunk. Seeing all the people around them vying for taxies, Ashley appreciated the convenience that money could buy. Bill piloted them home without incident, and as they came up the driveway in the dusk of early evening, Ashley realized how glad she was to be home.

The camera system had been installed and perfected at Ryan's business while they had been in Venice. And Frankie had turned a large room and a small adjoining room at the top of the house into an office for her brother while they had been gone.

The next day Ashley returned to Lacy Nothings, and Ryan went upstairs to his new offices to check on the workshop in the city.

Driving down to the shop, Ashley enjoyed the last of the autumn color. In the back of her Solstice were the six negligees she had purchased from Valentina in Venice. She wanted Nina to see them before she sent them into the New York shop. Nina was already in the shop waiting for her. The two women embraced.

"Was it wonderful?" Nina wanted to know.

"It was perfect. The contessa is lovely. She showed me all the high points of Venice herself while Ryan worked to get her piece of furniture packed and ready for shipping. The palazzo was incredible. We could see the whole city and the Grand Canal from our bedroom. And, Nina! The bed was seventeenth-century, with a mirror in the canopy! Oh, the food was good too, but a little too much seafood for my taste."

"A mirror in the top of the bed?" Nina chuckled. "I'll have to program that into one of my fantasies for the Channel. Maybe I'll go to Venice and take Casanova for a lover. I think I'll be a sexy sixteen-year-old virgin for him."

Ashley giggled. "You know, I had such a good time I didn't even miss the Channel. I'm probably not going to need it now. Ryan and I are getting along terrifically. And wait till you see what I brought back from Venice for the New York shop. I found a source. She has silkworms, a mulberry orchard, peasant women who actually spin the silk, and she designs the most gorgeous negligees. I bought six."

"We can't sell them?" Nina said.

"They are going to be outrageously expensive, and I believe the city shop is the only one in which we'll carry them. Valentina will ship me six garments, three times a year. Everything is handmade. She just can't do any more, and she has her own shop. We'll have them for Christmas, Valentine's, and the June brides." She set the embroidered satin lingerie case on the shop counter and opened it up.

"Wow!" Nina said, looking down at the ice blue silk nightgown on top. Carefully she examined it, noting the almost invisible stitches. "It's only two pieces," she said. "It's amazing. And it's so simple, but my God, it's sophisticated and elegant. I agree. This is strictly for the city shop. We couldn't sell this in Egret Pointe." She looked at the other five garments. Then she said, "You want me to ship these to Suzette?"