Hart to Hart Fan Fiction An Anthology of Hart to Hart Stories Written Between 1999 and 2016: Hart Scene Rewrites

By Leslie T.

Introduction

The Hart Anthology 3 contains all my rewrites of episode scenes that I thought could have been done better. Some are actual scene rewrites pulling from scripts or what I would have liked to have seen, while in others I add new scenes based on what I would have liked the episode to have done instead. You‟ll also find Romantic Harts, which is written from an unaired script. Please don‟t share this document with others. Everyone should obtain it from me or from where I‟ve posted it. This is only so I can keep tabs on it (I‟ve had a story stolen twice). If you‟ve received this document from someone other than me or where I‟ve posted it, please let me know. I hope you‟ll enjoy these stories. Thank you for reading!

P.S. The table of contents on the next page is interactive. You should be able to click on the title to be taken to the story.

Table of Contents

Introduction ...... 2 Two Harts are Better Than One: Scene Rewrites ...... 5 ‘Till Death Do Us Hart Movie Ending Rewrite ...... 22 Hart of Darkness Rewrite ...... 27 Romantic Harts ...... 33

Two Harts are Better Than One: Scene Rewrites This is a slightly alternate version of Two Harts are Better Than One, except Jonathan doesn’t succumb to jetlag (my change). Note, that this story is suitable for people who like highly charged intimate scenes. I referred to the first draft script, which has some differences from what was aired. I’ve put those lines in red so you can see how much the script changed from draft one to what they filmed. This story contains rewrites from only a couple of scenes: meeting in the bar (and that night), Jennifer finding Bowly (along with her and Jonathan running from him), and the proposal at the end. You can assume that the scenes not rewritten between these ones are the same. At the end, I share a few other notes about what was different from the draft script and the show.

The Meeting

Jonathan Hart sat at the bar of the Ritz hotel, nursing a drink when what he really wanted was to take a nap. He hadn‟t originally planned to fly non-stop from Los Angeles to London. Instead he‟d planned to have a day or two in New York, to check on the office there. Then he‟d head to London to finished the Kingsford Motors deal. But all of a sudden, Kingsford board members were skittish about the deal. Jonathan shook his head. He should tell them, “Take the money or don‟t.” It didn‟t make sense to them why they‟d be nervous. Just like it didn‟t make sense that the media thought the deal was newsworthy. Sure, the financial reporters and market followers would be interested, but general media? Why did they care so much that they had a reporter using deception to get the story. He took a sip of his drink. An exotic floral scent teased his senses as a women sat in the stool next to him. “Double vodka martini straight up.” Jonathan glanced at woman. The scent and the smoky feminine voice, matched with the woman carrying them. Her skin was smooth and creamy, the kind he‟d enjoy touching and tasting. Her auburn hair was pulled up, but looked soft, perfect for running his fingers through. It had been awhile since he‟d picked up a woman in the bar, but the tension in her jaw suggested she was having as lousy of a day as he was. “Rough day?” She nodded. “Um hmmm.” Jonathan knew women. Knew how to read them. This one didn‟t want to be bothered. And yet, he couldn‟t seem to help himself. “Are you an American?” “Yes.” Her tone and quick glance at him were both short and curt, again stressing her desire to not be bothered. “I‟m an American too.” She gave him a wan smile. “Small world.” He must be a glutton for punishment because despite her disinterest, he was intrigued. “Excuse me Mr. Hart. There‟s a reporter on the telephone. He wants to know if you‟re in the bar.” Jesus, they‟re tracking him to the bar. “You can tell him that not only am I not in the bar, but as far as you know, I‟m not even in the hotel and that goes for any journalist that may call especially a woman called Jennifer Edwards.” “I‟ll take care of it, sir.” “Thanks very much Joe.” Now he could get back to the intriguing woman sitting next to him. “The press.” “The press? Forgive me, are you famous? I‟ll bet, you‟re an actor.” He pushed away the annoyance that when he was just a regular Joe she wasn‟t interested, but now that she knew the press was hounding him she was. “No. I‟m a businessman.” “Oh.” She turned back to her drink, proving his point. Oh well. No reason he couldn‟t at least have a conversation. “But the press around here...I seem to be the best thing that‟s happened since the Watergate break in.” She shook her head, pleasing him with her disgust of his situation. “Why don‟t they just leave some people alone?” She sipped her drink, and he watched her neck as she swallowed. Her neck was long, graceful, and he found himself betraying his previous thoughts to leaving this to a simple bar conversation. “That Jennifer Edwards. Very pushy. I know just the type. She‟s probably a chain smoking, love starved matron, who peeks through key holes to get a story.” “Hmm.” He liked that she was annoyed for him. “She even came here and broke into my apartment and said there was a leak coming from the top floor, not knowing that my apartment was on the top floor.” “What a nitwit.” He studied her more in her buttoned up blouse, dark skirt suit, and hair pulled back. She was a professional, and yet even though her outfit revealed nothing, there was a sensuality about her. She looked at her watch. “You waiting for someone?” “Yes. As a matter of fact I was. Apparently I‟ve been stood up.” Whoever that guy is, he‟s the biggest bonehead in the world. She was finally looking at him, giving a longer glimpse into amazing hazel eyes. He‟d never had trouble asking women out, but it had been awhile since he asked a stranger. He was older now and he almost felt a little foolish. “Let me ask you a question.” “What?” “Would you consider having dinner with a complete stranger?” Her eyes flashed with intrigue, giving him hope. “The London by night tour?” “A great site to see.” “Well then, I suppose I shouldn‟t miss it.” He studied her, wanting to inventory her beauty and grace. “Jonathan Hart.” He extended his hand. “Louise Tobin.” She placed her hand in his, warm and firm, and he couldn‟t stop the image of those hands touching him intimately from flashing in his mind. “Shall we Louise?” “Whatever you say, John.” Ug. He hated John. “Jonathan.” She smiled, and the beauty of it hit him right in the chest. “Oh, I‟m sorry, Jonathan.” Good Christ he was in trouble. The way his name rolled off her lips, sent his senses soaring.

Jennifer walked out of the bar, glancing over her shoulder to make sure he was still there. She tamped down on the happy dance bubbling inside her. She was going to interview...no have dinner with Jonathan Hart. She pushed aside the niggle of guilt at her deception. It wasn‟t the first time she‟d lied to get a story. But as she reflected on the five minutes at the bar with him, she saw a man who was just trying to enjoy a drink and forget about business. Not just any man, either. She‟d researched Jonathan Hart before attempting to track him down and discovered he was the true Horatio Alger rags to riches story. He had a reputation for generous philanthropy, and he was fair, but wasn‟t afraid to be aggressive when needed. He‟d once been a playboy, although his sexual exploits were either fewer or he was more discreet, as he wasn‟t appearing in tabloids as much as he once had. The one thing that hadn‟t been correct were the photos. They hadn‟t done justice to just how devastatingly handsome he was. His eyes were a clear blue that hinted at mischief. His smile was both disarming and electrifyingly sexy. It had taken her several moments to get her bearings straight when she realized she‟d sat next to him in the bar. Her brain warred with whether or not to launch right into her interview. But then he told the bartender he didn‟t want to be bothered by reporters, especially her. It was all she could do to not dump her drink on him at the way he described her. Well! She didn‟t have to peek through keyholes when the man picked her up in the bar. But, she‟d have to ignore his looks and his charm, and instead focus on her goal; interview Jonathan Hart. But as the night wore on, her guilt grew while her desire for a story decreased. Jonathan was turning out to be everything a woman would want, and if she wasn‟t misreading the signs, he was enjoying her company too. They started with drinks at Winston‟s club, where he shared some of his adventures growing up, including running an underground craps game when he was nine to paying for college tuition one year with winnings from betting on horse racing. She‟d gone into the evening knowing she couldn‟t tip her hand by asking him questions about his trip to London, so in many ways their date was like any other, getting to know each other. But the more she did, the more she regretted deceiving him. There would be no second date when he learned of her deception and that bothered her. It had been so long since she met a man with charm and manners. Who was authentic and funny. Who she‟d like a second date with. They had dinner at The Society Restaurant, were she told him of some of her adventures on her horse, Sweet Sue, and the one time she ran away to live in the Egypt section of her father‟s museum. She told him about her adult adventures to Kenya and China, although not about how she wrote about her trips. Through it all the champagne flowed, until she felt like she was on a cloud. A cloud she never wanted to come down from. At Churchill‟s Presents, they danced and she knew she‟d regret whatever came of the night. Not drinks or dinner. Not even what might happen if she went home with him. But not telling him the truth of who she was. Of course, she could tell him now, but then the wondrous night would end. She could not do the story, but her journalistic integrity would be called into question. The was between the proverbial rock and a hard place. “How would you feel about more champagne back at my hotel?” She was ready to give him whatever he wanted. She suspected part of it was that she was tipsy already, but another part of her knew with clarity that if one night was all she‟d get, then one night she‟d take. And when it was over, she‟d have to live with the guilt of hurting him, which made her pause. He didn‟t deserve that simply because she wanted the pleasure his sexy eyes promised her if she went home with him. But maybe he‟d forgive her. “Yes.” The taxi pulled up to the Ritz. “Seven pounds exactly.” Jennifer got out of the taxi while Jonathan handed the driver the money. “Thank you very much.” Jonathan staggered out of taxi and towards the steps. He grinned up at her and her heart stuttered in her chest. “Did you give him a good tip?” She tapped his arm with her purse. “Yes. Sister Kate in the first race tomorrow at Epson.” She smiled. “Who‟s riding?” “He is. We‟re walking.” He headed up the steps, swinging his trench coat over his shoulder, smacking her face and knocking her some. She looked up at him. “You’re walking.” He turned, his brows furrowing as he realized she was sitting. “I like a woman who‟s down to earth.” He reached out a hand to help her up. “Thank you.”

Jonathan was well past tipsy, but not quite too drunk to know what he was doing. He‟d been captivated by her beauty and grace in the bar, but throughout the evening, she‟d been charming, funny, open...everything he liked in a woman. She was worldly and sophisticated, and yet, down to earth, and not because she‟d fallen on the steps. It was clear she was raised in wealth and privilege, and yet, she was conscious of and cared about world and social issues. She was smart. Really smart. And, he couldn‟t deny, so sexy. Her suit was tailored and yet it still showed very little. But there was no doubt that the body it covered was beautiful. What he could see, her legs, were long and strong, and once he‟d had a few glasses of champagne in him, he had a hard time not thinking about them wrapped around his waist. The chemistry between them was palpable, and he was sure she felt it too. So he‟d asked her back to his hotel. He felt like it was Christmas morning and he‟d just gotten the one thing he‟d always wanted when she said “yes.” He‟d taken a brief stop at the loo at the restaurant to find a pay phone to call back to the hotel to ask room service to deliver champagne. Now, back at the hotel, he opened the door for her and followed her in. “Ah, this is nice.” She headed toward the living area of his suite. “Look at the pretty flowers.” “Look at this.” He wrapped his fingers around her arm and guided her to his room. “Ah, the bedroom.” Her eyes scanned the room and he waited for her reaction. Her gaze stopped on the champagne sitting on a cart across the room. “Someone thought of everything.” “It‟s the British way.” They stood in the doorway, her exotic scent of orchids making him more drunk than the champagne. Her head turned to him and the desire to kiss her nearly brought him to his knees. “With a little help from you?” She was so close. All he had to do was dip his head toward hers and taste. With all the strength he could muster, he nodded toward the champagne. “Champagne?” She was smiling, her hazel eyes gleaming. She was the most stunning woman he‟d ever met. “I‟d love it.” She smiled that stunning smile and entered the room. He followed her to the champagne, but between his jet lag and the booze, he found himself feeling a big woozy. Or maybe it was her. He couldn‟t put his finger on it, but there was something about her. “That nonstop flight from Los Angeles really is too much. The jetlag is...” He tapped the side of his head and then sank to sit on the edge of the bed. “I‟m sorry.” “Can you help me open this?” He picked up the bottle of champagne. “Of course.” She took the bottle from him. “It would be my pleasure. Allow me.” She took the bottle, wrapping a towel around it as she popped the cork. As he watched her, her comment about helping the British struck him as funny, considering why he was in London in the first place. “What‟s so funny?” He hadn‟t realized he‟d laughed out loud. “You wouldn‟t know about this, but the reason those reporters are hounding me is because me. I‟m helping the British.” She popped the bottle, and her lips wrapped around the top to keep it from overflowing. The vision woke up another part of his anatomy. She poured their champagne. “You?” “Kingsford Motors and me. But don‟t say a word.” She handed him a flute, and with hers, sat beside him on the bed. “My lips are sealed.” She clicked his flute against his. “To the British.” “To Max.” The both sipped the golden bubbly. “Kingsford? Don‟t they make cars?” Jonathan loosened his tie and yawned. “They won‟t for long unless their cash flow doesn‟t change.” “Oh, I get it. Hands across the sea.” “Dollars.” “Dollars across the sea.” The need to lay down was acute, but he couldn‟t fall asleep now. Not with a beautiful woman sitting on his bed. Okay, not just another woman, maybe. But this woman. He wish he could figure out what it was about her that tugged at his heart as equally as forcefully as his libido. “You see, I‟m in a position to do this because of the devaluation of the pound, and see when the pound goes down, you...” He yawned. Jennifer watched him. “Maybe I should go. You‟re exhausted.” “No.” God, please no. He gave his head a shake. Then downed his champagne. “If you‟re tired...” “I‟m having a wonderful evening.” She smiled, and it gave him all the energy he needed. How was it this woman was still available? Why hadn‟t another man been equally as captivated by her beauty and ensured by her intelligence and wit? “I am too.” “Will you have breakfast with me?” She drew away, her brows drawing together in confusion. “That would be lovely. I‟ll see you tomorrow then.” He shook his head, damning the jet lag and liquor that was putting him off his game. He reached out and took her hand before she could stand. “What I was trying to say is that I‟d like you to stay the night. This isn‟t just a one night thing. At least for me. I want to see you.” She smiled again, filling his chest cavity with emotion. She bit her lower lip as if she was uncertain. “But maybe you didn‟t intend to stay—“ Her fingers pressed against his lips and he couldn‟t help but kiss them. “I‟m in your bedroom, sitting on your bed, I think it‟s safe to say I intended to stay with you.” He nodded, happy he hadn‟t misinterpreted her actions and yet, disappointed as it appeared she saw this night as a onetime thing. He waited for her as she watched him, whatever war going on in her head reflected in her eyes. “You‟re not at all what I‟d imagined, Jonathan Hart.” “You imagined me?” “All night long.” His libido ramped up. He reached out to cup her face with his hand. “I‟ve been imagining you too. Stay.” Not wanting to put off what he‟d wanted from the moment he‟d met her, he leaned forward, capturing her lips with his. The instant his mouth touched hers, all signs of jet lag and fatigue vanished, replaced with white hot desire surging through his body. She tasted divine, and quickly the tentative, testing kiss became all consuming as he devoured her mouth. Fortunately, she was as greedy as he. Her fingers thread through his hair, pulling him closer. A tiny, sexy moan escaped her lips, and he was eager to discover what other noises he might be able to seduce from her. Unable to wait any longer to find out, he slid his hand up her thigh, under her skirt. He legs were lean and tone, and he wanted them wrapped around him more than he wanted his next breath. In a frenzy, they tugged and grappled with clothing. Finally...finally, she was bare and his breath caught in his throat. She was perfection. The beauty every artist attempted to capture on canvas. Her skin was peaches and cream, and his mouth salivated wanting to taste every inch of her. Her breasts were round, her nipples taut as if they were begging for his touch. “You‟re so beautiful.” The words caught in his throat. He was no stranger to women or to his own desire for them. But this, this was something else entirely. She bewitched him like no other woman ever had. He stood, took her in his arms and kissed her again. He cursed when he realized he wasn‟t completely undressed. He needed her skin to skin. But she helped him, pushing his pants and boxers down. Then she wrapped her fingers around his steel length and he‟d nearly lost it. He couldn‟t remember ever feeling so hard, so desperate. “Need a minute.” He grabbed his pants from the floor, fumbling with his wallet for a condom. He only had two, dammit. By the time he tossed the foil packets on the bedside table, she was on the bed, laying in a seductive pose, her eyes watching him, her lips quirked up in a sexy smile. His heart rolled over in his chest. “Jesus, what you do to me.” He lay beside her, pulled her close and consumed her mouth, his tongue mimicking the things to come. “Tell me what you like.” “I like whatever you want to do to me.” He let out a long groan. This strong, intelligent woman had just handed him the reins, turning over her body and pleasure to him. God he hoped he could make her happy, because he knew for certain one time, even two times, would never be enough for him. He wanted to pleasure her and have her wanting more. “I want to touch and taste every inch of you.” A shiver ran through her body, boosting his confidence that she was as affected by him as he was by her. “I‟m desperate to be in you, but I want to take my time.” “Yes.” He kissed her, again, and then started his journey to discover the secrets of this woman. With mouth and hands, he traced her body starting from her jaw and neck, collar bone and lower. He cupped her breast. It fit perfectly in the palm of his hand. She gasped when he stroked his thumb over the sensitive tip. “Jonathan.” He wrapped his lips around the tip and suckled. “Yes.” She arched into him, offering him more. Her hands clutched his head, holding him there. He gave both breasts ample attention before continuing his journey, down over her belly, quivering from his touch. He kissed a trail to her hip, sucking lightly, not caring if he left a love mark. It was juvenile, but she was his. Her legs were long, and he learned the area just behind her knee and the outside of her ankle were particularly erotic for her. He made his return journey on the opposite leg and wondered if she‟d let him taste her at her center. Not all women liked it. For some, he had to work up to it. But he didn‟t know if he‟d have another chance, and he felt certain he‟d regret never having all of her. He hovered over her mound, blowing slightly. She opened her legs, inviting him in. She was wet for him. He drew his tongue over the length of her folds, causing her to cry out his name and arch to him. And then, he feasted, using his tongue and lips to drive her wild. He pushed her higher and higher, and then would let her teeter, before starting again, until finally, she was begging. “Come for me.” He inserted his finger pushing up and forward to find that one perfect spot as his lips suckled her most sensitive nub. Her cries were like music to his ears as he sent her soaring, her body contracting around his fingers, giving him a prelude to what it would feel like to be inside her. She was uninhibited and free. He lifted his head, letting his fingers bring her down. She was so damn beautiful with the sheen of perspiration on her forehead, her mouth drawn into an “O” as the pleasure washed through her. He let her rest for a moment, as he reached for the condom. But then she pushed him on his back, and straddled his thighs. Her eyes narrowed in a wicked, seductive gleam as her fingers drew down his chest, catching on his nipples and wrangling a hiss from him. He didn‟t remember his nipples being so sensitive. “My turn.” She leaned forward, gently biting his earlobe, before running her lips along his jaw and lower. “I won‟t make it.”

“You will.” Jennifer‟s body hummed with the after effects of Jonathan‟s touch. She wanted to return the favor. To let him know the truth of her feelings, and her desire, through her touch. She‟d already decided to dump the story, but that wouldn‟t change the betrayal he‟d feel when he found out who she was. He might not forgive her and give her a second chance. And so she needed to make this night count. But God how she hoped he‟d understand, because no man had ever made her feel the way he did. It didn‟t make sense to have such a connection after a few hours, but she did. And she wanted it to last more than one night, although she knew chances were it wouldn‟t when she confessed who she was. She wasn‟t usually one to surrender total control to a man, especially to one she didn‟t know very well, but the minute his hands were on her, she knew she could trust him. Knew he‟d make her feel divine. And he didn‟t disappoint. Her body still pulsed from his expert mouth on her. And now she wanted a turn to show him how good they could be together. She leaned forward and kissed him, firm, but leisurely, hoping to temper his need enough that she could have a turn to explore his body. To discover what he enjoyed. “Let me touch you.” He groaned low in his chest, but he didn‟t stop her as she ran her hands over him. Then her mouth was on him, her tongue flicking over his nipple. He let out a expletive, and she smiled knowing she was his undoing as he‟d been hers. She moved lower, lower, learning every inch of his body, except the part that wanted the most attention. “Louise.” She flinched, hating that it wasn‟t her real name on his lips, begging her to take care of him. It was a reminder of her deception and she hated herself for it. She pushed it aside, focusing on him. She ran her tongue over one round sack and then the other, his hips bucked and he swore again. She admired the steel hardness of him, long, thick and she couldn‟t wait to feel him moving, pulsing inside her. But first...she dragged her tongue up his length, then swirled it around the rim of his engorged tip. “Oh, Jesus. I can‟t.” He pushed her away, as he fumbled with the condom. She smiled, taking the packet from him. “Let me.” But he shook his head. “Can‟t.” He snatched the condom back. She sat back, watching as he sheathed himself. Then he levered up, his lips immediately going to her breast, while one hand slid between her folds. “Tell me you‟re ready.” She maneuvered herself over him, and sank. Her breath caught as he filled her. He was magnificent, his hard length touching every sensitive point inside her. And yet it was more than the physical that connected him. It was as if a cord was tethered between her heart and his. She ignored the pain she knew would come when that cord was ripped apart. He swore again. “Perfect. So damn perfect.” She had to agree and because she did, tears came to her eyes. They could have something, she was sure of it. But any chance was gone, because she was lying to him. Even now, joined and as close and intimate as two people could get, there was a barrier. She wrapped her arms around him, held him close. She inhaled his scent, savored the feel of him pulsing inside her. She wanted to capture and hold this moment forever. But he had needs, and his hands encouraged her to move over him, faster, harder. His thumb pressed between her thighs, and her own need ratcheted up. Together they moved in a perfect dance, reaching higher and higher. They‟re breaths ragged, yet in sync. Their hearts thundering yet beating in time. And then she was flying again. He yelled, bucked and he joined her, their bodies riding out the storm together.

Jennifer lay beside Jonathan, watching him sleep. He‟d fallen asleep almost instantly after disposing of the condom and returning to bed. She hated herself and yet knew she couldn‟t have played the situation any differently. Not if she were to have this night. Had she told him who she was in the bar or even during the evening, she‟d be in her own bed, her body never knowing the wonders he could give it. But it was unfair of her to go this far. Her stomach roiled at her betrayal. He‟d asked her stay the night, but she knew she couldn‟t. As much as she wanted to stay this night and other nights, it wasn‟t right. It wasn‟t fair to him. Or maybe she was just a coward. So she slipped from bed, and dressed quickly. She watched him sleep for another moment, the bitter sweetness of love and regret storming inside her. She took the rose sitting in the vase and laid it on her side of the bed. With one last look, she left the room. In the lobby, she headed to the public phones and called her editor. “Brooks? It‟s Jennifer. I know it‟s late, but I got a lead on the Jonathan Hart story.” “Jennifer? That‟s smashing. Give me everything. I‟ll put a rewrite man on it and we‟ll make the morning‟s edition.” She shook her head. “I don‟t know all the details, so you can‟t print a thing until someone talks to Kingsford to corroborate.” “Kingsford Motors?” “Yes. He‟s here to bail them out. But Brooks, I can‟t do the story. You‟ll need to put someone else on it.” “What? Why? That‟s front page stuff.” “Promise me you won‟t run the story until you find another reporter to get all the facts.” “The Dispatch can‟t sit on this thing forever, but I‟ll assign it to Harris and won‟t print anything. So how‟d you get the story?” She breathed a sigh of relief. Harris was her friend and an excellent reporter. “Let‟s just say we chain-smoking, love starved matrons know how to peek through keyholes.”

Finding Brooks

Jennifer made her way into Brooks Kerr‟s home, angry at him and broken-hearted that he‟d ruined any chance to make things right with Jonathan. Maybe it wasn‟t fair to blame him, after all, she was the one who‟d lied to Jonathan. But Brooks had promised he‟d not publish anything. He said he was going to give the assignment to Harris. So why was the story on the front page with her byline? She was sick with grief that the result was there was no fixing things with Jonathan. To see his distress and of course his anger at Jennifer Edwards solidified her belief, that any chance they might have had would be gone when he learned the truth. She tried to find a way out, but there was none. They attempted to have lunch, be he was preoccupied with finding Jennifer Edwards and she, of course, with confronting Brooks. Jonathan had invited her dinner at his hotel that night since they decided to cut their lunch short. Would she be able to put off his finding out about her until then? Would Brooks have an excuse that she could use that Jonathan would forgive? She wouldn‟t hold her breath. She shouldn‟t have called Brooks at all. She could have stayed the night in Jonathan‟s strong arms, and told him the truth. And now all hope to discover whether or not the feelings that had bloomed over the course of the evening would have a chance to grow were gone. “Brooks.” She called out as she made her way to his office. He was slumped over typewriter as if he‟d fallen asleep there. “Brooks.” She reached out to wake him. When she touched him, he slid from the chair. “Brooks!” She grabbed at him, trying to keep him from hitting the floor in a thud. In her arms, he was lifeless, cold and gray. Oh God. He was dead. Just then the door opened and Jonathan walked in. She looked from where she held Brooks on the floor. “He‟s dead.” Jonathan‟s eyes narrowed. “If he‟s Brooks, that makes you...” “Jennifer Edwards.” “And quite possibly a murderer.” What? No. Jennifer gently lowered Brooks to the floor. “I know what you‟re thinking. I can explain.” She saw the shock and hurt in his eyes. She hated herself for putting it there. “I walked right into this didn‟t I?” With disgust on his handsome features, he moved toward the door. “You can‟t leave me with him! I never wrote that story. This whole thing is a mistake.” She bolted after him. “My mistake was talking to you.” He walked out. His words were like a stab to the heart. “Where are you going?” Jennifer followed him out of the flat. “To phone the police.” She caught up to him, grabbing his arm she turned him to her. “Look, I know how you must feel. I‟m sure I‟d feel the exactly the same way, there really is an explanation to this.” He yanked his arm from her hold and made his way to the phone box. He deposited the coin as he pressed the phone to his ear. “Operator, may I have Scotland yard.” “Scotland Yard? Just give me five minutes to explain.” She hated that she hurt him, but now terror coursed through her blood. She wasn‟t a murderer. “They‟ll probably give you twenty-five to life.” Desperate now, she pleaded with him. “Brooks sent in that story. I hardly told him anything.” “Inspector Drootin, I‟d like to report a murder.” Oh God. “All I told him was we had dinner together.” “Just a minute inspector.” Jonathan pressed a hand over the phone receiver. “Dinner? What about the rest?” Inside she wept. “I told him I couldn‟t do the story. And not to publish anything until he assigned a new writer to check it out.” His hard blue eyes weren‟t swayed. “Inspector, I think there‟s a woman involved in all this. You may need to question her.” He turned to Jennifer. “He wants to know your name. I do have your real name now.” She knew she deserved his scorn, but each angry word, the way his eyes stared at her as if she was the very scum of the earth tore at her soul. “Please Jonathan.” His cool eyes glowered at her as he spoke into the phone. “I‟m trying to get it inspector. She‟s not very cooperative.” Jennifer scanned her brain for something to make him see reason. Yes, she lied to him, but she didn‟t write the story and she certainly didn‟t kill Brooks. He was her friend. Jonathan stared at her, and the intensity of his hate nearly brought her to her knees. “Armed and dangerous? I promise you, she‟s dangerous.” She knew he wasn‟t talking about Brooks murder, but how she hurt him. Before she could respond, a shot rang out, shattering the glass of the phone box. Jennifer ducked. Jonathan grabbed her hand and sprinted across the street. “If there is an explanation for all this, I hope I live the hear it.”

They reached Jonathan‟s car and he opened the back door, shoving her in before jumping in after her. “Hey. What‟re doing here, Louise?” Max glanced at her through the review mirror. “Her name is Jennifer and I think we‟d better get out of here, Max.” Jonathan looked out the back window for the shooter. “Jennifer?” “I‟d only been trying to get my story. No one else could get to see you.” Gun fire sounded again. “You‟re Jennifer Edwards?” Max‟s caterpillar brows rose up to his hairline. “If you two don‟t mind, do you think we could get out of here?” An third shot rang out. “Someone‟s trying to kill me.” Finally Max realized the gravity of the situation and stepped on the gas. He pulled out into busier London streets. Jonathan hoped he remembered to keep to the left side of the road. “As long as I‟m getting shot, would one of you tell me why?” “If your boss would have listened to me—“ “If I would have listened to you! If you hadn‟t printed that story, I wouldn‟t be in this trouble.” The woman had some nerve. God what it did to him to see her over Brooks Kerr‟s body. For a brief, beautiful moment, he‟d thought he‟d finally found a woman he could commit to. That he wanted to commit to. And all the long she was lying to him to get a story. Jesus, she‟d slept with him for a story. “I told you -- I didn‟t print that story. I gave up the story. And what do you mean „I wouldn‟t be in this trouble?‟” Max made a hard turn, sending Jennifer practically into Jonathan‟s lap. Even now, knowing she used him, betrayed him, and possibly murdered someone, her scent, the feel of her firm yet soft body made him long for her. Fortunately, now that the jig was up, she didn‟t feel the need to use her feminine wiles on him, and scooted back to the other side of the car. “I mean that now that everyone knows about the merger, someone‟s very determined to prevent it. Killing me would solve all their problems.” “Oh really?” For someone who lied to him and murdered her editor, she didn‟t seem very chagrinned. “Yes. Really.” “You‟re so cocksure, aren‟t you? It would have to you they‟re after -- the great Jonathan Hart.” The car careened and Jonathan held on to the handle to keep from sliding to her side. “Did it ever occur to you that they‟re after me -- for printing that story?” “Let‟s hope you‟re right.” Jennifer flinched and drew back as if he‟d slapped her. He shook his head at his cruel words. Yes he was angry and more hurt that he could have ever imagined. But saying he hoped the shooter was after her was uncalled for. He didn‟t want her to be the target. “I‟m sorry. I didn‟t mean that.” He could see the strong woman in her, but she struggled to pull herself together. “No. You‟re right. Maybe you could just let me out. There‟s a police station just up the way.” “I can‟t shake „em Mr. H.” Jonathan scanned the streets as they flew by. He saw a curve in the road. Thinking they‟d have a moment out of sight from their pursuer, he told Max to pull over. Jonathan opened the door. “Come on.” Jennifer slid out. He pulled her into a doorway as Max drove off. “You could have just left me.” “Yet I didn‟t.” He glanced around the corner. “I suppose I‟m forever indebted to you.” Geez she was a piece of work. “A thank you wouldn‟t hurt. But keep it on ice, we‟re being followed.” He saw the man pull up, park and get out of his car. The way his hand was in his pocket told Jonathan he had a gun. Jennifer looked around him. “You‟re right.” “This way.” Jonathan pulled her toward the signs for Glass Bottom Boat Ride. They rushed toward the boat, but Jonathan realized it was pulling away. “How‟s your broad jump?” “We‟re about to find out.” They took a running leap, tumbling on the deck of the boat. On lookers stared at them. “Thanks for waiting.” Jonathan then looked toward the dock were their attacker stood watching as they drifted up the Thames. Jonathan helped her up. She looked up at him, with those amazing hazel eyes. Eyes that had clouded with desire when he touched her. He shook his head of the image. Maybe she wasn‟t a murderer, but she had lied. Lied and slept with him to get a story. He let go of her once she was up and made his way to the back of the boat. She followed and stood next to him. “Can I ask you something?” “Since when have you needed my permission?” She inhaled deep, as if she knew she deserved his disdain. “Why didn‟t you turn me in when you had the chance.” “There really wasn‟t time.” She stared up at him, the slight smirk on her face suggesting she didn‟t buy it. The truth was he could have turned her in, so why didn‟t he? “Or maybe you can tell that I‟m telling you the truth.” “No, it wasn‟t that.” “I was telling the truth.” Maybe she was, but it didn‟t change that she lied. “Why did you let me make love to you?” Guilt shone on her face, but she didn‟t turn away. “Because I wanted to make love to you too.” “But you wanted the story more? I asked you to stay. But you left. Leaving a rose like you cared.” God, this conversation was killing him. It was like twisting a knife in his heart. “I did...do care. And I didn‟t leave because of the story. Well I did, but not how you think.” He swore he saw sincerity in her eyes, but didn‟t want to trust them. So he turned away, not wanting to allow her to ensnare him again. “I knew it would be difficult enough for you to believe me when I told you who I was. I had to get the story out from between us. So I left, but only to call Brooks and tell him I couldn‟t do it. He agreed.” “The rose was a nice touch.” She sighed, in resignation. “Thank you.” She stood next to him stoic and yet, it appeared all the fight had gone out of her. “You still haven‟t answered my question.” “Why I didn‟t turn you in?” He studied her as she nodded. She turned her head, looking up at him with those amazing eyes. “It‟s not because I thought you‟re innocent.” She bit her lip, and turned her head down. He wondered if she was trying to keep from crying. “I like your eyes.” Her head whipped up, her gaze meeting his straight on. “You do?” He nodded. Jesus, he couldn‟t fight it anymore. She would probably break his heart into a million pieces, and yet the desire to have her overrode the need to protect himself. She looked up at him, with such hope and ... love? He bent toward her, unable to stop himself with the need to kiss her. When his lips touched hers, he was back to last night. To the perfection of her. To the taste of her. She pulled back, only inches though. “You believe me.” He kissed her again, thinking he could spend the rest of his life kissing her. “I didn‟t say that.” He took her mouth, wanting to lose himself in her all over again. “But deep down in your heart you know it‟s true.” She clutched his coat, pulled him close and kissed him. “I didn‟t say that either.” He slid his hands to her back, and pulled her closer. “Jonathan, tell me you believe me.” God he loved how his name fell from her lips. In that moment, she could have whatever she wanted. “I believe you -- Louise.” She drew back before he could kiss her again. Her mouth in that perfect “O” he‟d seen when he‟d made her come the night before. It made him wish they were back at the hotel so he could have a repeat of the night. “I believe you -- Jennifer.” She smiled, and it was stunning. Like the sun had come out. The sound of the engine changed and boat slowed down as it neared the dock. “You realize our friend only had to wait to follow us off the boat.” Jonathan scanned the area looking for the man that wanted one or both of them dead. “Or he could have gone back to the hotel to wait for us there.” He jerked his gaze to her, struck by her statement that they‟d go back to the hotel together. He still stung a bit from her deception, but he believe her when she said she‟d asked to be out of the story because she wanted to be with him. Thinking of the story reminded him of the merger. “I‟ve got to sign those papers this afternoon.” “Any ideas?” He took her hand as they made their way off the boat. “Thank you.” “You‟re welcome.” She stared up at him, her brows drawn together in confusion. “For what?” “For think I might actually have some good ideas.” “Oh. Well, do you?”

The Proposal

Bowlly and Charles were in custody, and the Kingsford deal was done, but there was no relief. Jennifer was not only blowing in the wind, but odds were she was not interested in hearing his apology. He‟d totally mishandled this situation, and he was terrified he‟d ruined any chance at a future with Jennifer. He‟d just figured if she was distracted by the police, she‟d be done when he was. Then they could resume the beautiful relationship that had started the night before. Jonathan clutched the two dozen roses as he and Max made their way to the hotel exit. “I think you better handle this alone, Mr. H.” “I suppose you‟re right. Now that I‟ve completed one merger, I better to work on the more important one.” He just hoped she‟d give him time to apologize, grovel, and then make the most important pitch of his life. It was amazing the clarity he had about his feelings for her. Yes, she‟d lied to him, but he understood why. In fact, if she‟d told him the truth in the bar, he‟d probably have never seen her again. He certainly wouldn‟t have asked her for dinner. And then he wouldn‟t have met the most amazing, intelligent, funny, kind women in the world. He believed her about calling Brooks to re-assign the story to someone else. Her eyes were expressive, and he‟d seen her sincerity, her guilt and her profound sadness at her potential loss from her deception. But she didn‟t have to lose. Neither of them did. Her stories about Africa told him she had an adventurous spirit. He hoped she was willing to go on the biggest adventure of her life with him. The hotel manager approached them. “Mr. Hart. Congratulations. I just heard the news about Kingsford Motors.” “Thank you, Calvin. Have there been any messages from Miss Edwards?” Calvin shook his head. “No sir. But I did take the liberty of calling her paper and they‟ve indicated she is heading back to the United States.” Panic shot through Jonathan. “When?” “Today, sir.” Just when he thought he had his life all figured out, his hopes and dreams began to fade away. “Max, we‟ve got to stop her.” “Easier said than done, Mr. H.” “Is there a problem Mr. Hart?” Calvin stood in earnest waiting to be of help. “You‟re right---she won‟t talk to me.” “And she won‟t talk to me, because I talk to you.” Jonathan turned to Calvin, who quirked a brow, waiting to be of service.

Jennifer‟s brows furrowed as the car pulled up next to the Tower Bridge. The place where she‟d nearly lost her life and she‟d lost the man. She shook her head at her stupidity. She‟d believed he‟d forgiven her, and then he turned around and fed her to the wolves. She wouldn‟t have guessed him the type for payback. At least not at that level. The rational side of her said it made sense. He believed she slept with him for a story, so he‟d used his charm and delicious kisses to disarm her and prepare her for his own payback. But God did it hurt. She rubbed a hand over her heart, as if it might stop the pain. It was crazy how deeply she felt for him after only two days. But she did. She was in love with him. She wondered how long it would take to get over it. Fortunately, her anger at him helped push down the sorrow and regret. But why was she at Tower Bridge? The inspector said he had more questions. Did he need to walk her through the scene of her abduction? The car parked and her door opened. Jonathan Hart peeked in. “You! I should have known you were behind this.” She welcomed the anger, but to look into those beautiful blue eyes made it difficult to push away the pain. He reached toward her, but she recoiled. “Touch me and I‟ll have you arrested.” He sighed, and his expression was pained. “I had to get Kingsford to sign the papers. You were making a scene. Besides, you came out of it alright.” “No thanks to you. You couldn‟t just tell me you had to go and we could meet later? We did have a dinner date, you know.” She shook her head. “You got your revenge, Mr. Hart. Take me back to the airport.” “There‟s something I want to ask you. After that, I‟ll take you anywhere you want.” “Whatever it is, the answer is „no‟” Why was he doing this? Why was he insisting on punishing her, hurting her more? She hadn‟t known her heart could break anymore than it already had. “I‟ll admit I wasn‟t very helpful. But if you remember, I wouldn‟t have been in this trouble if it weren‟t for you.” “I said I was sorry.” “So did I.” He quirked one brow. He fully expected her to listen to him. She was annoyed at herself for being drawn in again, because she got out of the car to hear what he had to say. “What did you want to ask me?” “Over there.” Jonathan nodded toward something behind her. She stared at him for a long moment, and then turned to where he indicated. At first she didn‟t see anything, and then movement on the bridge had her looking up. A banner unfurled. “WILL.” And then another, “YOU.” Until finally, she saw the message. WILL YOU MARRY ME? This had to be a joke. She turned to him and then back to the bridge. And then she looked at him again. “You‟re crazy, you know that.” He nodded. “I know.” “After all this trouble, you still want to marry me?” “I‟m sure we don‟t be getting in trouble on a weekly basis.” He was serious. She couldn‟t wrap her brain around it. “But...but you live in Los Angeles and I have an apartment in New York.” “I don‟t want your apartment. I want you.” Her heart flip flopped in her chest. He wanted her. He wanted to marry her. She could barely catch her breath. His hand reached out, caressed her cheek. Then he leaned forward, and softly, gently kissed her. Her brain was fogged, her emotions in overload. “But my clothes are all in New York.” “They have nice clothes in L.A.” He captured her lips again, this time with a little more heat behind them. Reminding her how good they were together. How well they fit. At least when they were getting along. When he thought she was Louise. “What‟ll I tell my father?” A horse and carriage sat on the river bank, with a driver in full livery and powdered wig. When the driver spoke, Jennifer realized it was Max. “Tell him you‟re getting married already-- it‟s getting hot in this wig.” A woman with flowers approached, but Jennifer was too caught up in Jonathan, in this crazy situation. “But my plane ticket.” It was a dumb statement. Her plane was already on its way to New York. He smiled. That devilish, sexy smile. “I‟m Jonathan -- fly me.” The flower woman took the ticked from Jennifer. “Manna from heaven!” Then she danced away. Jennifer might of balked at having her ticket taken, except she couldn‟t pull her gaze away from Jonathan. “Marry me.” She sucked in a ragged breath. “I don‟t know what to say.” From the carriage, Max called, “This wagon‟s a rental -- say “Yes‟” Jonathan studied her for a moment, and then stepped back. The glimmer in his eyes dimmed. “Alright, come on. I‟ll take you to the airport.” In that moment, the answer was so clear. Why was she even vacillating? “No. Forget the airport. Max, how about once around the park.” She clutched Jonathan‟s coat lapel and pulled him to her for a kiss. She poured everything into it. Then Jonathan helped her into the carriage and they rode off into their happily ever after. *“You‟re crazy. Whatever made you think I‟d say yes?” “I knew you were in love with me the moment you left the flower on the pillow.” “In love with you?” She balked at the idea, although now that she thought about it, she was probably in love with him the minute he spoke to her in the bar. “I was ready to have you marched before the firing squad.” “I‟m glad you‟re going to march me down the aisle.” He kissed her again and it finally sunk in that she‟d be able to kiss this lovely, good man every day and every night. She was a lucky girl indeed. “You guys have it easy. Do you know how much this wig itches? It‟s murder.”

Differences from Draft One to the Show

*The part about “Whatever made you think I‟d say “yes” is actually in the car at the end, but I moved it here for the rewrite.

After leaving Brooks, running from Bowlly, they‟re in the car, but Max gets the attention of the police and drops Jonathan and Jennifer off to talk with them. Policeman: “Very nice. I would say you people have a bit of explaining to do.” Jonathan looks at Jennifer. She looks at him wondering if he’s going to turn her in. Jonathan: “One thing I can explain, officer, is that I’ll never use this employment agency again. They assured me that this driver had an impeccable record.” He turns to Jennifer. “Is that right, darling?” Jennifer: Taken off guard. “Quite, dear.” Jonathan takes her arm. “It’s just too dangerous to be in the same car with that man.” They walk away. The cop turns to Max who says, “How are ya?” I can see why they got rid of that above scene because you‟d think with Bowlly after them, they‟d just tell the cops they were being chased by a gunman.

On the boat, my script has seven kisses during that scene as opposed to the three we see.

When they get off the boat, Jennifer mentions she‟s hungry and they get a snack. She spills on herself, and when Jonathan leaves her to get a napkin, Bowlly snatches her. Jonathan sees this and pursues them. He and Bowlly fight, but Jonathan loses and Bowlly takes Jennifer. Jennifer: “I’m an American reporter! If I don’t make my deadline, everyone’s going to find out about it.” Bowlly: “Miss Edwards, I’m a professional. If I do anything to you -- no one’s going to find out about it.” Jonathan tries to get to the car Bowlly takes her in, but he gets knocked down and unconscious.

Jonathan still calls to tell Max to take the phone off the hook, even though in this version, he wasn‟t thrown in the Thames. When he gets back to the hotel is different: Max: “Mr. H, I got the phone off the hook, but tell me why?” Jonathan: “It’s because of Jennifer.” Max: “Say no more. She’s still driving you crazy, eh?” Jonathan: “I’m afraid she is...but not the way you mean. I’ll be honest with you, Max. She’s staring to grow on me.” Max: “Yeah, I know hat you mean. I kinda like her myself.” Jonathan: “It seems that someone wants Kingsford Motors out of business.” Max: “But what does Miss Edwards got to do with that?” Jonathan: “It wouldn’t surprise me if in a few moments I get a call telling me not to sign the papers. If I cooperate, they won’t hurt Jennifer.” Max: “Hurt her?” Jonathan: “If they can’t call, they’ll have to deliver the message in person.” Max: “And whoever delivers the message can probably lead you right back to Jennifer.” Jonathan: “Exactly.” Also, Bowlly slips the note under Jonathan‟s door, instead of leaving at the desk.

‘Till Death Do Us Hart Movie Ending Rewrite

Like many other fans, I was disappointed with the ending of ‘Till Death Do Us Hart. For me, the biggest frustration was the vow renewal for their 20 year anniversary. Throughout the series and the movies, Jonathan’s romantic gestures were big and romantic. Renewing vows along with someone else’s marriage vows, in a hospital room, is not the Hart way. In this rewrite, I’ve changed that scenario. I’ve taken out the vow renewal with Simone and Peter, as well as the twin cab driver at the very end of the movie. I hope you enjoy my ideas of what should have been done. - Leslie T.

“I love Munich, but I have to say, I‟m glad to be leaving this time.” Jennifer relaxed on the leather seats on the Gulf Stream as it glided through the air over Europe. “I have to agree.” Jonathan handed her a flute of champagne and sat next to her. He probably shouldn‟t be drinking, as Tom was the only pilot with Freeway Jr. as a co-pilot. But he had every faith in Tom‟s flying ability to risk it. Just one drink, anyway. “Still, it was nice to see Simone and Peter get married and make a home for Max.” “It wasn‟t as nice as our wedding.” Jennifer smiled, and as always it stole his breath. “No one‟s wedding was as nice as ours. Speaking of weddings. We missed our anniversary.” “Delayed.” Jonathan took a sip of the fine golden bubbly, knowing he‟d pique her interest with that one word. “Delayed?” One gorgeous auburn brow rose. He nodded. “So, where are we heading anyway?” He loved how she always played along with him. “London.” “Ah... London.” “You see, I figured what better place to celebrate our lives together than in the place where it all started.” “Have I told you how romantic you are?” “On one or two occasions.” He lifted his glass. “Here‟s to the London by night tour, Louise.” “And to jetlag.” He winced. “That hasn‟t happened again since.” “No.” She sent him a knowing smile. “You‟ve always be very alert.” Jonathan had never quite been able to let go of his embarrassment of not only falling asleep on a woman as sexy and dynamic as Jennifer the night they met, but thinking they had made love when in fact they hadn‟t. Fortunately for him, she didn‟t hold it against, or tease him about it too often. It was one of the many things he loved about her and why he always sought to give her whatever he could. Right now, it was a walk down memory lane twenty-years later. After the plane landed, they went directly to the Ritz and had the bellboy send up their bags and Freeway Jr. up to their suite while they immediately went out for a night on the town. They visited all the same haunts, drank, danced and reminisced. They returned to their suite, not quite as tipsy as the first time, but not quite sober either. “What a lovely night.” Jennifer flowed into the suite. “Look at this.” Jonathan took her elbow and led her to doorway of their bedroom. “Ah, the bedroom. Somebody thought of everything,” she said eyeing the ice bucket holding a bottle of champagne. “It‟s the British way.” “With a little help from you?” Just like the first time, she turned her head toward him, her lips a whisper away from his. Only this time, he could kiss her. The first time it had been agony to resist. Not that he didn‟t think he could. She was, after all, coming into his bedroom. What else could that mean? Still, there was something special about her and he wanted to do everything right. “Champagne?” He motioned toward the waiting bubbly. “I promise I won‟t fall asleep.” “But will you respect me in the morning? We‟ve only just met.” Her soft, pink lips were so close. God he wanted to kiss her. “If I remember correctly, I respected you the first time.” “But the first time we didn‟t make love.” “True. But I thought we had.” She laughed. “I wasn‟t very memorable.” He winced. He‟d hated that. Believing he‟d touched her, but having no memory of it. “You know, I was already half in love with you before we finished the first drink.” She smiled, her hand sliding up chest. “Maybe we can change this scene. I think I‟d like to skip the champagne and go right to dessert.” Was it any wonder he loved this woman? He leaned forward, his body pressing hers against the door jam. But before he could kiss her, she moved away. Her hand wrapped around his tie and pulled him with her into the room.

For twenty years, he‟d been the only man she‟d slept with. The only man she wanted to sleep with. So many of her friends had turned to affairs, saying their love life had become boring. Jennifer knew every inch of his body and he knew hers. They knew what gave each other pleasure, but even so, it was never, ever boring. Jonathan could be creative and Jennifer wasn‟t afraid of a little adventure when it came to sex. And even when love making was tame, every time he touched her, she felt it deep in her soul. “I wonder how many people make love in the same bed they‟d made love in the first time on their twenty year anniversary?” She slipped her arms around him. “Not many people make it to twenty years.” His lips skimmed along her cheek, her jaw. She sighed and settled into his embrace. The time for talking was done. Her lips found his, sought to show him just how much she loved him. How much she loved how he loved her back, emotionally and physically. They shed their clothes on the way to the bed. He lay over her, flesh to flesh, heartbeat to heartbeat. His hands slid, slow and deliberate over her body, teasing and coaxing her response. Her body heated, and she arched to his touch, seeking more. No, this never got boring. And she gave as well. Her fingers sliding over his steel length as it pulsed and hardened to her touch. “Jennifer,” Jonathan whispered, his cue to her that he was ready. She opened for him, took him deep and closed around him. He stilled, lifting his head to look down on her. His brilliant blue eyes clouded with desire and so much love it made her ache. They didn‟t need words, as she held his gaze, letting the awe of her love, his love fill her. He kissed her, his lips slow, deep, drugging. Slowly they moved together as one. They took their time, gradually rising, higher, higher. But it didn‟t take long for need to take the reins and as it did, they moved faster, deeper, stronger, climbing together until Jennifer felt that pierce of pleasure spear through her. As she shattered in his arms, she felt him let go, and together they rode out the storm.

Jennifer woke the next morning, reaching for Jonathan even before she opened her eyes. At first her hand found nothing, and then it touched something shaggy. She popped one eye open to find Freeway Jr staring down at her. “Well, good morning.” Freeway Jr. barked and then licked her hand. It was then she noticed the scroll of paper stuck in his collar. “What‟s this?” she asked taking the paper. Unrolling it she found a note.

I had to get some things done. Tom will be by later to bring to you lunch. Happy Anniversary. Love Jonathan.

She frowned. What things did he need to do? She pushed away her disappointment at not being able to spend the next few hours in bed naked with her husband. She got up, showered, dressed, had coffee and read the morning paper, half expecting an article about Kingsford Motors. Tom arrived around lunch as promised. As they pulled up to the Tower Bridge, Jennifer realized that perhaps Jonathan‟s errands didn‟t have to do with work. Jonathan stood waiting for her, looking so handsome and distinguished in his overcoat. He opened the door. “Will you get out of the car so I can talk to you?” “I‟m feeling a little put out that you left me this morning.” She frowned, but knew it wasn‟t convincing. “For just one minute, will you get out of the car so I can talk to you, and then you can go back to the hotel if you want to.” “One minute?” “One minute.” Jennifer worked to hide her amusement as she exited the car. “You‟ve got 50 seconds left.” He smiled at her. “Turn around.” A little thrill went up her spine as she realized he was recreating that magical moment from twenty years earlier. The first time, she‟d been angry and hurt. This time when she turned, she leaned back against him. His hand slid around to her belly, pulled her closer. She watched as signs unfurled on the bridge

Will You Marry Me Again?

She laughed, turned and slid her arms around him. “After all we‟ve been through, you want to marry me again?” “Right here, right now.” Her brows lifted in surprise. “Right now.” He nodded. “Flowers for the lady?” And older woman, holding a large bouquet of flowers interrupted. “Well?” Jonathan‟s brow rose, waiting for her respond. Jennifer took the flowers. “I‟d marry you every day and twice on Sundays.” Jonathan reached into his pocket, pulling out several bills and handing them to the flower woman. “Just what I was hoping to hear.” He took Jennifer‟s arm, turned her until she saw a minister approaching them. “You really did mean here and now.” “Of course.” “I take it your bride said yes.” The minister was a rolly polly of a man, with a twinkle in his eye and red in his cheeks that suggested he might have been spending time in the nearest pub. “She did.” “Excellent. Then shall we get started?” “Absolutely,” Jennifer grinned at Jonathan, unable to contain her delight. “We are gathered here to renew the vows taken twenty years ago by this man and this woman. Do you, Jonathan Charles Hart, reaffirm your vows to this woman, Jennifer Edwards Hart?” “I do.” Jonathan‟s voice cracked, weakening Jennifer‟s resolve not to be overcome with emotion. “And do you, Jennifer Edwards Hart, reaffirm your vows to this man, Jonathan Charles Hart.” “Oh, I do.” Jennifer bit back a happy sob. “I understand you have your own vows,” the minister said. Jonathan nodded, and took Jennifer‟s free hand. “Jennifer, I thank God every day that you walked into the bar at the Ritz. At the time, I had everything I needed except someone to love. And then there you were. So beautiful, smart, brave... with a giving heart. Twenty years ago, on this spot, you agreed to join your life with mine, making me the richest man in the world. And I promise you that I will continue to love, honor and respect you, every day for the rest of my life... and beyond if that‟s possible. I love you so much. So, so much.” Jennifer swallowed the lump in her throat. She knew this man. Everything about him, his heart and soul. And yet, he could still surprise her with his love. “And you Jennifer?” the minister said. Jennifer might have teased Jonathan that she hadn‟t had a heads up to prepare a vow. But she didn‟t need time. No, her feelings were all there, right at the surface. All she needed to do was find the right words. “Jonathan, you‟re the love of my life. When I walked into the Ritz bar, I was in a low point of my life. Not just in my work, but personally. I never thought I‟d find someone who could love me, respect me for me. Until that night. And as we talked and danced and I fell in love, but I was also devastated, because it all started with a lie and how would you be able to forgive that? But you did. And you‟ve brought such love and joy and adventure into my life and I love you so, so much. It‟s difficult to be a writer and not be able to find the words that tell you how much I love you. Maybe that word hasn‟t been invented yet. But I promise that I will spend every day of my life, letting you know that my love for you is deep and pure and unconditional.”

Jonathan wiped away one of her tears, letting his own trickle down his cheek. He didn‟t know what he did to deserve her, but he vowed he‟s spend every damn day letting her know that she was his world. “The ring?” the minister asked. Jonathan reached into his pocket and pulled out a platinum ring, inlaid with 20 diamonds. He slipped the ring on her finger. “This ring is a symbol of my undying love for you. It‟s 20 diamonds represent the years we‟ve had, the years we have to come.” Jennifer looked up at him. In her hazel eyes he saw all the love and passion he felt for her reflected back to him. “Your vows have been reaffirmed. You may kiss your wife.” Jonathan was ahead of the minister as he‟d already wrapped his arm around her and pulled her in for a kiss. His lips lingered, brushing against the soft, delicious mouth he knew he‟d never get enough of. He didn‟t want the moment to end. “Ahem. Your ride is here, Mr. Hart.” Reluctantly he pulled away. “Now you‟re really stuck with me.” Jennifer laughed, the sound of it filling his heart. “I think I‟ll make do.” He took her hand and led her to the horse drawn carriage that arrived for them. “Shall I take her once around the block?” the driver asked. “No. Take us back to the hotel.” Jennifer gave him a quizzical look. “I want to consummate this marriage. Make sure it sticks.” She grinned, her brows waggling. “Good idea.” He pulled her close, kissed her again, delighting in her and the life they‟d made. And the many years they had to come.

Hart of Darkness Rewrite There are many episodes that had scenes I felt could benefit from a rewrite. Not just because it was an unbelievable scene (i.e. Robin Wall dance), but because the scene could have gone deeper and been more emotional. Hart of Darkness has two such scenes, plus, what I feel is a missed opportunity. The first scene is in the hospital room when they‟re packing and Jonathan asks Jennifer to toss him the apple. That scene is cut strange (when Hershel walks in) making me wonder if something was eliminated. Looking at the third draft script, there is an emotional section that isn‟t in the show. For that scene, I‟ve tried to fill in the strong emotions Jonathan must be feeling (after all, just a few days before he was watching her sleep...now he can‟t see her at all), and included the bit that was cut from my version of the script.

The missed opportunity is when they get home. Jonathan is facing the possibility that he won‟t see again. He‟s learned from Jim that other senses will heighten. So...I‟ve always thought there should be a love scene while he‟s blind, where he loves her with his senses (remember To Coin a Hart?). Of course, it was 80s TV, so they couldn‟t show the sensuality of sex without sight, but still, they had sex when he didn‟t know who she was (What Murder). So...of course, I‟ve put that in when they get home, before he gets juice.

Finally, the last scene, I felt, could have tugged at our heart strings a little more than it did by drawing out his first sight of her, so I added that. ~ Leslie T

Jonathan Preparing to Leave the Hospital

Jonathan stood just inside the door of his hospital bedroom as a wave of self-doubt washed through him again. Someone was out to get him, but he was blind, literally and figuratively, to who that might be. Worse, without his vision, how could he protect Jennifer from the person who wanted him hurt, maybe even dead? Jennifer. He wasn‟t one to wallow, and yet, how significantly their lives would change if his vision was gone forever. So much of what they did and enjoyed in life required vision. The sunrise from the bow of their sailboat while floating in the middle of the Pacific. The sunsets on safari in Africa. He shook his head, willing the negativity away. He listened as she moved about the room, packing his suitcase so they could finally go home. But once there, then what? He knew the layout of his home, and yet, he suspected it would still feel like a maze. He reflected back on his flash course in living blind from Jim, a competent, independent blind man. Surely, with time, Jonathan would have that too. Maybe he should start now. “Darling, you see that basket of fruit on the night stand?” “Yes.” “There‟s an apple in it.” “So there is. Do you want it?” “Yes. But don‟t bring it to me. Toss it to me.” “Toss it?” He heard the hesitancy in her voice. He pushed away the flash of annoyance that she didn‟t believe in him. After all, he couldn‟t see. How could he catch an object he couldn‟t see? “Toss it.” “Are you sure?” He nodded. “Um hum.” “Alright. Here it goes.” The anticipation was nerve-racking, but then he felt the apple against his hand, and he grappled in the darkness to hold on to it. “That was great!” “Not bad, huh?” Jonathan‟s confident rose a measure. History had taught him he could achieve great things if he put his mind and back into it. This didn‟t have to be different. “How‟d you do that?” “Jim taught me.” He tossed the apple back toward where he‟d heard her sweet, supportive voice. “That‟s great.” Her scent enveloped him and then her hand was on his shoulder, and his concerns and fears pushed their way to the surface again. “Darling?” “What?” “When they take the bandages of tomorrow, suppose I can‟t see.” Her fingers tightened and gave him a small shake. “Jonathan.” The tone had him picturing her fierce, determined face in his mind‟s eye. “There‟s not a single think in the whole world that will ever change the way I feel about you. Alright?” He knew it was true, but it was comforting to hear. “Alright.” He took a breath. “You‟ll have to take care of me.” She laughed. “Are you kidding? We have to take care of each other. And from what I‟ve seen, you can take pretty good care of yourself.” If he was blind, it would be an adjustment, but she was here. His rock. The old life might be gone. But Jennifer was creative and adventurous. With her, they‟d forge a new life with new adventure. “So, I‟ll just finish packing all this up.” She left his side, and felt the loss of her scent and touch immediately. Jim was right. All the other senses were heightened. “Let me help you with the suitcase.” He stepped toward the bed and felt for the suitcase handle. “Jonathan, I haven‟t-“ He lifted and felt the suitcase tilt, heard the soft thump of everything tumbling out of it. “Damn!” All the doubt and fear flared again. “I can‟t see.” Jennifer was there and he reached for her. His hands sliding up her arms until he could cradle her face. “I can‟t see you.” That was the thrust of his anguish. The thought of never looking into her gorgeous, intelligent hazel eyes. To never be on the receiving end of her radiant, sometimes coy smile. To not watch as pleasure washed through her when they made love. Just the other morning, he was filled with awe and joy at watching her sleep. It could all be gone. It was torture of the worst kind. “Darling.” Her voice was gentle, loving. He tilted his head forward until it rested against hers. “I can‟t bear not to see you.” Her breath hitched, but she didn‟t speak. What could she say? Nothing. And she knew it. But she held him. Loved him. And he did his damnedest to keep her image sharp in his mind. Because it was possible the memory of her beauty might be all he‟d ever see again.

Arriving Home from the Hospital

“Mr. H! Welcome home!” Jonathan stepped through the door, for the first time experiencing his home through sense of smell and ambiance. He sniffed the air. “Max, you make yourself bacon for lunch?” “Hey, you‟re psychic.” “Better get used to it, Max.” Jennifer‟s hand rested on his arm, leading him through the foyer. “This calls for champagne, but you‟re on medication.” “Actually, I‟d like to change.” “You know, me too. Let‟s go up stairs.” Jonathan wanted to find his own way. The sooner he acclimated to his situation and surroundings the better, but when she wasn‟t touching him, he felt untethered to the world. Like he was floating in darkness. So he let her guide him to the stairs and up to their room. “I think I have it from here,” he said once he felt the hardwood of their bedroom floor. “You sure?” “Yes. You go change. I‟ll meet you out here.” “Okay.” There was hesitance in her voice. So he smiled and nodded to let her know he was good. When he heard her open her closet, he used his cane and free hand to navigate into his side of the dressing area. He reached his dresser, only to realize, he couldn‟t pick his clothes. What if he picked items that didn‟t match? He swore under his breath. And then cursed again that he was feeling sorry for himself. He was the type of man to wallow in self-pity. He made his way toward the sink, turning on the water and splashing a little on his face. Then he rested his hands on the basin, and stared straight ahead. If he had his sight, he‟d see his blue eyes and that familiar face he saw every morning. “Jonathan?” Her hand rubbed down his back. “I‟m alright.” He wasn‟t, of course. He put his arm around her and pulled her close. He dipped his head to the curve of her neck, inhaling her sweet, exotic scent. He still had this. He might be missing his sight, but his other senses were sharp. He could experience her through scent, touch, sound, and taste. He moved his hands up her sides, until they found and cradled her face. He leaned forward, found her lips and drank. They were soft and tasted of mint. He kissed her, letting his hands slide down, along her luscious curves, under her shirt to soft skin. “Jonathan. The doctor said-“ “I need you.” He heard the desperation in his voice and hated his vulnerability. And yet, he trusted her to understand it. To give him the strength he needed at that moment. “I need you.” He kissed her again. For a moment, he thought she might continue to resist, but then her body went pliant against his. They made their way, by memory, to their bed. He laid with her across it, determined to rediscover her with all the senses he had left. He took his time undressing her, letting his fingers caress along her fine, soft, graceful lines. His hand brushed over her breast. Were her nipples always so taut when he loved her? His hand slid along her thigh. He swore he felt the goose bumps on her skin as she shivered to his touch. His fingers stroked between her thighs, and her body tightened and arched. Was she always so responsive? Slick? Yes. He‟d never completely ignored his other senses when they made love, but he‟d never completely tuned into them either. Now he was focused on every little movement, every moan and gasp, and the way her body heated, and her skin turned damp with perspiration. He imagined her skin was rosy, flushed from his touch. And then he did it all again, but this time with his lips and tongue. Her skin tasted divine. He suckled her breast, his own desire building as she arched into him and called his name. Just as his hands hand done, he didn‟t let mouth miss a single spot on her body. He dragged his tongue over the angle of her ankle, and back up to the back of her knee, and then along her inner thigh, were he lingered long enough to leave a mark. He pushed away the thought that he wouldn‟t be able to see that mark, his mark, on her beautiful porcelain skin. “Jonathan.” She gasped and reached for him. But he wasn‟t ready for that yet. There was one last place he needed to taste before he gave over to his own pleasure. He settled his shoulders between her thighs. “I want you.” Her voice came out on a harsh gasp. “You will.” “Jonathan.” “I promise, sweetheart.” Not giving her a chance to change his mind, he drew his tongue along her folds, and gloried at the mix of gasp and moan he‟d wrenched from her. Then he flicked his tongue over the hard center of her desire, sweet with her pleasure. He hadn‟t ever missed this in the past, but he‟d never savored it either. Not like this. But now, he would know her with all his senses. He feasted on her like a man dying of hunger. With each lap or flick of his tongue, or suckle of his lips, taking everything... her exotic scent, sweet nectar, and divine sounds that told him he was pleasuring her just right. It was the most beautiful music he‟d ever heard. And then she was there, her body tightening. For a brief moment, sadness washed through him, that he couldn‟t see her beautiful body as it shuddered to his touch. He pushed it aside, and instead, worked her, drawing out her pleasure until he felt her go limp. Only then, did he give any thought to his own needs. He shook off his remaining clothes, and slid up her body, and in one, strong thrust, joined his body with hers. She gasped, and clutched at him. His hands went around her and he held her still against him, focusing on the thundering of her heart beating in time with his. The way her fingers clung to his back, and then loosened as they caressed. How her body, massaged him nestled inside her. In that moment, he realized he still had more than any man deserved. He‟d be a big whiner if he complained about his sight when he had this woman and her love. “I love you.” His voice sounded strained to his own ears. Not from holding back pleasure. But from the intense emotion coursing through his heart. Her hands pressed to his cheeks, lifted his head. He couldn‟t see her, but he knew she was studying him. What did she see? “You‟re my life, Jonathan. Everything.” The emotion welled until he thought his heart might burst through his chest. He kissed her, completing the circuit of their joining. Their bodies, their hearts, and their souls, now moved as one, slow at first, but gained speed and intensity as desire and need bloomed and finally blossomed. The pleasure was pure and powerful as it radiated from his center outward. Even better, she followed him, her body arching as her release tore through her, her body drawing out his pleasure. They lay silent, Jonathan acutely aware of her breathing and the way her body slowly relaxed in his arms. He kissed her temple, sending thanks to God she was in his life. “Are you okay?” Her voice was sweet, drowsy, as it usually was after love making. “Perfect.” It wasn‟t just a line. Yes, he wanted to see her again. But his blindness opened his eyes to how much he‟d missed by letting other senses relax. Now he knew just how full and wonderful his life was, with or without sight. “But I‟m thirsty.” She laughed. “You worked hard.” “I love you.” “And I love you.” He gave her another kiss. “I‟m getting some juice.” “Let me go with you.” He shook his head. “No. I can have Max...actually, I‟ll get it myself.” He understood enough about human nature to know that his lack of vision would knock him for a loop again, but in this moment, he felt invincible. He was in his own home. He could navigate to the kitchen and get juice. She didn‟t say anything for a moment, and he waited to see if she‟d let him have his independence. “You be careful.” “I‟ll be fine.” He gave her quick kiss again, and rolled out of bed. Knowing his pajamas were in the top drawer and his robe hung on the inside door of the closet, he was able to dress himself, and make his way downstairs. Yes, he‟d find a way to life a full life whatever the outcome of his eye injury.

After Fight with Arnold

For a moment, when he felt the warmth of the fire and realized they weren‟t in the dark after all, Jonathan feared Arnold would get the best of him. That Arnold would kill him and send him to be with his sister, Alice. But if he succeeded, what would Arnold do to Jennifer? Where was Max? Had Arnold already killed him? It was those thoughts that had Jonathan swinging the cane and barreling toward Arnold, even though he had no bearings. They hit bricks...the fireplace?...and grappled, falling to the floor. They rolled until finally Jonathan got the upper hand. Driven by fear and anger, he punched at Arnold, hitting him the face, once, twice, three times. “Jonathan!” God, he hoped Arnold was out. He scrambled back. “It‟s alright.” Jennifer‟s hands help him back. “It‟s alright.” Disoriented, he let her guide him away. “It‟s alright, darling. It‟s over.” He felt the chair, and maneuvered himself into it, feeling angry and out of control, as disorientation pushed him deeper in the dark. He reached up, needing to remove the bandages. “Take these off, will you?” He was desperate for the light. “It‟s killing me.” “No darling. The doctor said you‟re supposed to-“ “Please...take them off.” “Alright, shh...shh...” He bent his head forward, letting her unfasten the bandages from behind. His hands rested on her arms, as if he needed to hold on to her or he might slip into a black abyss. He was vaguely aware of flicker and warmth hitting his eyelids. Slowly, afraid of what he might see...or not see... he opened his eyes. The firelight danced in her hazel eyes, and cast a golden hue highlighting her auburn hair. Like an angel. She was the most beautiful sight in the world. He‟d never forget this moment. This second chance to see her for the first time again. “Can you?” A tear fell down her cheek. He reached out, wiped it with this thumb. “Yeah, I can.” She let out a relieved gasp, and launched herself into his arms. He held her tight, even though what he really wanted to do was just look at her forever. But he held her, remembering that his sight wasn‟t the only sense available to him to experience her. He inhaled her scent, felt her body pressed into his and her arms holding him so tightly back. He‟d always be thankful for his sight, but he vowed to never let his other senses become neglected either. He would use every one of one of them to savor her every day.

Romantic Harts By Rewritten by Leslie T

Romantic Harts is written from a work draft script of Hart to Hart, dated March 3, 1982. The script was never turned into a show. What’s fun about this script is that it pays homage to The Thin Man, not just when Max mentions the movie, but also, Frank and Frances Bentley are described as older Nick and Nora types. The plot is from the script with a few minor changes on my end, plus a couple of love scenes. I’ve included a copy of the script, so you can compare for fun. – Leslie T.

Chapter One

Jonathan stood at the doorway to the dressing area/bathroom, watching Jennifer slip the robe from her shoulders, exposing the creamy, soft skin he‟d just spent the last half hour devouring. Even well-sated from just loving her, his body responded again. She opened the shower door, and stepped in. A glance over her shoulder with a coy come-hither gleam in her eye, told him she knew he was there and wanting her all over again. On one hand, it wasn‟t surprising the way his body responded. Or his heart. Jennifer was the most amazing women he‟d ever met. Not just beautiful and sexy, but smart, and not afraid to show it. And he loved her in a way he‟d never knew existed until he met her, and fell, fast and furious into love. Thank God she loved him back. With the same unconditional intensity. On the other hand, sometimes the powerful swell of emotion that would overtake him, with just a glance at her, surprised him. It was a wonder his heart didn‟t burst from his chest at times. And of course, her ability to arouse him only minutes after being completely sated, defied biology. Not that he was complaining. He headed toward the shower, dropping his robe along the way. He opened the door to the shower, hit with heat and steam, and her sexy female form. “I was afraid you got lost.” She smiled coyly at him over her shoulder. “The blood left my brain so it took me a little longer to get moving.” She turned, slid her arms over his shoulders. “Didn‟t get enough this morning?” “There‟s never enough.” He dipped his head and kissed her, long and languid as he had when he woke her this morning. He‟d had many lovers before Jennifer, but none had so completely satisfied him emotionally or physically, deep down into his soul. And none had as many moods to love making as he had with her. Long, slow, luxurious love making, or fast and furious romps when need was too much for finesse. Sometimes it was more erotic and other times, playful. No matter what, it was always beautiful and filled him with awe.

Jennifer slid into the kiss, welcoming his taste against her lips. She couldn‟t deny the ego-boost she got when he was ready, willing and able to touch her again so soon after making love. She loved that he couldn‟t get enough of her, because it was the same for her. There were times when she wanted to run off to a deserted island where it would just be the two of them and their love. For so long, she‟d never thought of love or marriage. Not that she had anything against it, but she‟d never had much luck with men. For a time, she thought her expectations were too high. And then she met Jonathan and knew she‟d been waiting for him. For a man who wasn‟t threatened by her smarts or assertiveness. A man who saw her as equal and pushed her to pursue any and all her dreams. A man who touched her, physically and emotionally down to the very core of her soul. It didn‟t hurt that he was handsome and smart, and extremely talented with his hands, and lips, and… “Oh…” She gasped as he pushed her against the shower stall wall, lifted her leg up over his hip, and thrust long and deep inside. “Jennifer.” His lips ran from her jaw, to her neck, to her shoulder, where he bit lightly and then sucked. She‟d need to wear a scarf or choose a dress other than the one she‟d planned for that day to cover the love bit. She didn‟t care. It was a little immature, but she liked the love mark she occasionally found. Sometimes on her shoulder, over her breast, between her thighs. Love making with Jonathan was never routine. Whatever he wanted, she‟d do. And sometimes, she was the one coming up with the fantasy or game. He withdrew and thrust again, pushing away all thoughts but him, pulsing inside her. She gripped his shoulders, and tilted her hips, taking him deeper. He let out an explicative. Or maybe it was her. The sensation of him thrusting and throbbing inside her, the hot water sluicing over her skin, over his skin, had every nerve ending firing on full. “Jonathan.” She gasped his name as the first wave of pleasure rolled through her. His fingers dug into her hips as he pushed her up again before she could recover. “Again.” He growled the command. She‟d be a pile of Jello when all was said and done, but that was okay. There was nothing more important than their love. Than joining with this man in every possible way. The tension built, then coiled, tight, tighter, until she cried out as her world burst into a million sensations. He groaned, trust and she knew he was with her, his pleasure mixed with hers in a perfect harmony. She clung to him as she came down from the high. She knew their love was rare. She couldn‟t imagine anyone loved as much as they did. It was a sad thought, because what they had was the center of all their joy and happiness. To think so many people didn‟t have that was heartbreaking. He lifted his head, his brilliant blue eyes twinkling at her. She smiled at him, and then leaned in to kiss him. “If we don‟t get dressed soon, we may never get out of here.” Even so, he continued to hold her, seeped inside her. “Although…” He ground his hips against hers. She laughed. “I suppose there will be other auctions.” He gave her another quick kiss. “But not many have old French antiques.” That wasn‟t completely true, but few had French antiques once owned by Napoleon and Josephine. “So, let me take you the auction and we can resume this later.” “I‟m going to hold you to that.” She patted his cheek, and then picked up the soap.

“Do you have the invitation?” Jennifer followed Jonathan down the stairs. “It‟s in the car.” When he reached the bottom, he stopped, and waited for her before making his way to the living room. He reached out his hand, and smiled. Her breath caught, as it always did when he was in a tux, smiling at her. She considered leading him back upstairs to resume their adult activities. He brought her hand to his lips and kissed it. It told her he knew exactly what she was thinking. He added a wink, a promise that he‟d let her have her way with him later. “What a knockout.” Max, with a cigar in his mouth and a duster in his hand, stopped cleaning as Jennifer and Jonathan entered the living area. “Why, thank you, Max.” Jonathan grinned. He did look exceptionally handsome in his tux, but she knew she didn‟t look so bad in her black dress, with a shawl to cover the morning‟s activities. “I think that compliment was being tossed in my direction, darling.” Jennifer smiled to Max. “And it‟s appreciated.” Max took the stogie from his mouth. “What‟s the occasion?” “Occasion?” Jonathan asked. Jennifer made her way to the coffee table, looking for the auction catalog. “For the monkey suit in the middle of the day. Last one I saw at this hour was when Housewife‟s Matinee played an old „Thin Man‟ rerun.” “Right, well they always did overdress.” Jennifer rifled through a stack of magazines. “Today is that private auction we told you about. French antiques.” “And it‟s formal.” Jonathan tugged at his tie. “Max, have you seen the catalog for the auction? It was here last week.” Jennifer scanned the room. Max went to the end table and picked up and thick glossy pamphlet. “I think I just dusted it.” He handed it to her. “Y‟know, if those suggested opening bids are any indication, every items in there is gonna go for a bundle.” Jennifer turned to Jonathan. “That reminds me, darling. Do you have the checkbook?” Jonathan smiled, patting his breast pocket. “If we‟re going to get there in time to use it, we better go.” “Oh and Max, don‟t forget we have the cocktail party tonight.” “It‟s all taken care of Mrs. H.” Jonathan held out his arm. “Shall we?” She wrapped her arm around his. “We shall.” “Have fun, but be careful,” Max called after them. Jonathan and Jennifer stopped. “Be careful?” Jennifer asked. “If ya wave or nod or scratch your nose…or even sneeze, they can count it as a bid. I hadda buddy who went inta an auction once with hay fever, and came out with a spittoon that cost him three thousand clams.” Jennifer laughed. “We‟ll be careful.” “Besides, I don‟t think there are any spittoons in this auction.” Jonathan escorted Jennifer to the car.

The gavel echoed through the small but impressive room. “Sold to Rodger Heggen for sixteen thousand.” The auctioneer waved his gavel toward the winner. “You won‟t be sorry sir. That clock is a bargain at any price.” Jonathan leaned toward Jennifer sitting next to him. “A bargain?At sixteen thousand dollars?” “It is from the reign of Louis XIV.” Jennifer whispered as she read the description of the clock in the catalog. “For that kind of money, Louis should come along to wind it personally.” Jennifer smiled, enjoying Jonathan‟s humor and contradictions. He had enough money to buy thousands of Louis‟clocks, but deep down he was fiscally responsible. Not that he never splurged or spent millions in a single transaction. But underneath it was some sort of value, whether an asset or it was something that would bring her joy. She loved that about him. His devotion and constant wanting to make her happy. All he had to do was smile and be hers. But the gifts were fun too. The auctioneer‟s assistant handed the auctioneer a ring box. He opened it, showing off the exquisite doomed ring, surrounded by diamonds. “Our next item is a one-of-a-kind commissioned by Napoleon Bonaparte as a gift to Josephine in 1804, when Napoleon became emperor of France. “C‟estmagnifique.” Jennifer admired the ring. “This is the one I‟ve been waiting for.” Jonathan smiled. “I thought you had a ring.” “This ring was part of one of the greatest romances of the 19th century.” “Well then, it‟s only appropriate that it now be part of one of the great romances of the twentieth century.” Jennifer smiled, squeezing his arm to let him know she agreed. Their love was like no other. And considering what happed to Napoleon and Josephine, Jennifer knew her and Jonathan‟s love was above and beyond the doomed emperors.

“We‟ll start the bidding at ten thousand dollars. Do I hear a bid?” In the back of the room, a small dog barked, but Jonathan ignored it. His focus was on getting the ring that would make his beloved happy. “Ten thousand.” “Eleven thousand,” a man from the back of the room called out. “Fifteen,” another woman offered. “Sixteen,” a different man called out. “Twenty,” Jonathan upped the ante. He didn‟t want to be there all day. “Twenty. Thank you sir,” the auctioneer said. “Twenty one thousand,” the first man called. “Twenty-two,” Jonathan said. “Twenty-two-five.” “Twenty-five,” called the man from the back of the room. “Thirty,” Jonathan tossed out. “That ring is awfully popular.” Jennifer turned in her seat to glance at their competition. Jonathan was curious too, but he‟d learned long ago that looking suggested concern in an auction and he didn‟t want anyone thinking he couldn‟t play this game for as long as it took to get Jennifer that ring. “Thirty-one.” The man from the back of the room called out. “Thirty-one-five.” Jonathan rolled his eyes. Who went up only five hundred dollars on a thirty thousand dollar ring? “Thirty five thousand.” “Oh Jonathan, are you sure? I mean, it‟s only a ring.” A man entered their row. “Would you mind moving over two, please,” he said to the couple sitting next to Jonathan. He pointed to Jonathan. “A patient of mine…a little…” He made a circular crazy signal next to his head. Jonathan scowled, but turned his attention back to the auction. The couple moved so the man could sit next to Jonathan. The woman with him carrying a yorky moved past them and took the seat next to Jennifer. “Thirty eight,” the man called and then leaned toward Jonathan. “Excuse me, but I really want that ring. It‟s for my wife. She can‟t live without it.” Jonathan rolled his eyes. “Forty.” He leaned toward the man. “Sorry, but my wife feels the same…and if she wants it…” “You don‟t seem to understand.” “And you don‟t seem to be bidding.” Jonathan smirked. “Forty-one.” “Frankie has always been highly competitive,” the woman said to Jennifer. “Well, he might have met his match in my husband.” “I wouldn‟t be so concerned if it wasn‟t my money he was bidding with.” “Forty-five,” Jonathan said. “This is really very silly, old man, I can go as high as you can.” “You can try.” Jonathan tried to focus on his main goal; get the ring for Jennifer. But now it had become a competition. One he didn‟t plan to lose. “Forty-six.” The man pulled out his wallet, flashing large bills at Jonathan. “What would you say to a deal? Just between us?” “I‟d say keep your money. You‟re going to need it. Fifty!” “Fifty-one,” the woman in back called. The yorky began yapping. “Quiet please, Ralph. Daddy‟s bidding.” “Ralph?” Jennifer looked at the woman and the dog with the bow tie collar sitting next to her. “He goes everywhere with us.” “We would have brought our dog, but his formal collar is at the cleaner.” Jonathan smirked and squeezed Jennifer‟s hand. “Fifty five thousand.” “You‟re being very pig headed about this. If you don‟t mind my saying so,” the man said. “And you‟re getting on my nerves. Why don‟t you just give up?” Jonathan finally turned to glare at the older, distinguished looking gentleman. “Give up? Why don‟t you mind your own business?” “I don‟t know who you think you are, but…” “Sold to Mrs. Montgomery for sixty-one thousand dollars.” “Sold?” Jonathan and the man said in unison. “Well, I hope you‟re satisfied.” The man pursed his angry lips at Jonathan. Then he turned his attention to the woman. “Come on Frances. We‟re going.” “It looks like we‟re going. Nice talking to you dear,” the woman said standing and making her way to the man, while Ralph still yapped. “That was certainly strange.” Jennifer frowned as the couple left. “That guy‟s a jerk.” He tried to shrug off the annoyance. “I‟m just sorry I lost the ring for you.” She smiled, and as always, it was like a balm on his agitated soul. “It‟s alright. I guess we‟ll have to just make some romantic history of our own.” “I‟m certain that can be arranged.” Jennifer waggled her brows and since there wasn‟t anything else in the catalog they wanted, it seemed like a good time to go home and make history. He escorted Jennifer out of the room and into the lobby toward the front door. A skinny, short, older man with thick glasses stood at the exit. “Professor McCann?” Jennifer said. “Jennifer. Jonathan. What a pleasant surprise.” “Playing hooky today?” Jonathan stood next to Jennifer with his arm around her. “Research really. As you know, Napoleonic history is my specialty and this was a chance to get a look at some of the items. Even though the prices are out of my league.” Jonathan‟s brows pulled together skeptically. “Out of your league? Don‟t forget, Richard, we‟ve seen your home when you hosted the benefit for the Museum of Art.” “I know this is last minute, but Jonathan and I are having a cocktail party this evening. Just a few friends.Very informal. Would like to join us?” “It sounds wonderful, but some friend are in town from New York and-“ “You‟re welcome to bring them along,” Jonathan said. “Really, we‟d love to see you. About nine?” “Well…fine. Thank you.”

Finally in the car heading home, Jonathan still felt the tension from the auction. “I hate to admit it, but that guy really got me upset.” “He knew what he wanted and was certainly determined to get it.” She cocked her head to the side. “Actually I though his wife was kind of nice. In some strange way, they almost reminded me of us.” “Us?” Jonathan glanced at her incredulously. “You‟re joking.” Jennifer shrugged. “Well, I don‟t see the slightest similarity. I‟d much rather think of us in terms on Napoleon and Josephine, which reminds me, I‟m really sorry about the ring.” “There‟ll be other rings. Besides,” Jennifer lifted her left hand. “This is the only ring I really care about.” Jonathan reached for her hand and pulled it to his lips.

Soft jazz wafted through the house as Max makes the rounds filling wine glasses. Jennifer stood with Jonathan in the foyer, talking to Professor McCann who‟d just arrived. “I‟m so glad you could make it tonight, Richard.” “What do you suppose is keeping your friends?” Jonathan‟s hand rested on Jennifer‟s lower back. “They were coming directly from their hotel. Maybe they‟ve had trouble finding the house.” Max approached, refilling Richard‟s glass. “Thank you, Max.” He took a sip and then turned his attention to the Harts. “That was quite a shock about Anne Montgomery.” “The woman who won the ring today?” Jennifer asked. Jonathan frowned. “What happened?” “I just heard it on the radio. The police found her in her bedroom. Strangled.” “Strangled?” Jonathan‟s arm instinctively tightened around Jennifer. “How awful.” The doorbell interrupted. “Can I park this with you for a minute Mr. H?” Max handed Jonathan the tray of hors d‟oeuvres and then opened the door. “It‟s them.” Jonathan hissed under his breath when he saw the same man with the wife and yappy dog that ruined his chance to get the ring. “And they‟re not alone.” Jennifer‟s eyes went straight to the woman‟s hand. “You mean the dog?” Jennifer nodded toward the woman. “I mean the ring.”

Chapter Two

“Jonathan and Jennifer Hart, I‟d like to meet my friends, Frank and Frances Bentley.” “Yes, we‟ve met,” Jonathan said tightly. “We had no idea it was your party we‟re crashing tonight,” Frances pulled the still yapping Ralph closer. “What a pleasant surprise.” Frank‟s tone suggested there was nothing pleasant about the surprise. “Now Frankie,” Frances chastised. “Play nice.” Although she wasn‟t excited to have them there, curiosity about the ring got the best of Jennifer. She reached out her hand to pet Ralph as an excuse to get a better look at Frances‟ ring. “How good to meet you under less competitive circumstances.” She studied the dome ring, until Frances tucked her hand under Ralph. “I…uh…hope you don‟t mind that we brought Ralph along.” Jennifer turned to Jonathan. “He goes everywhere with them.” Freeway ran in, stopped at Jennifer‟s foot and barked. Ralph jumped free of Frances, and the two ran off towards the kitchen. “Ralph!” Frances called. “It‟s alright. Freeway probably just wants to show off his bone collection.” Jonathan said. “I take it you two met at the auction today?” Richard‟s quizzical gaze traveled between the Harts and the Bentley‟s. “Yes. We were after the same ring.” Jonathan eyed the ring on Frances‟ finger. “Which apparently you got after all.” Jennifer nodded toward the ring. Richard followed Jennifer‟s gaze and his eyes widened in surprise. “The Napoleon. I thought Mrs. Montgomery won that. Rest her soul.” Frances shifted uncomfortably. “Ah…this? No, this isn‟t…I mean…Uh…” “What my wife is trying to tell you in her charming but inept way, is that she wanted that ring so much, I had a copy made for her. A consolation prize.” Frances blew out a breath. “Yes. That‟s it. Isn‟t he a doll?” Jennifer looked at Jonathan, who expression suggested he wasn‟t anymore convinced than she was. “Well, now that you‟re here, come in and meet the others.” Jonathan extended his hand and backed away from the door to let them in. Jennifer moved to stand by his side. “Richard, I think you know most everyone. Would you introduce your friends around? We should see if Max needs any help in the kitchen.” “I‟d be glad to.” Jonathan and Jennifer followed their guests to the living room and then made their way to the kitchen. “Max isn‟t in the kitchen,” Jonathan said loud enough for Jennifer to hear. “Max. Get in the kitchen.” Jenifer said to Max as she passed him. “What‟s up Mrs. H.” Max said as the door to the kitchen swung closed behind him. “A woman was killed today and I think it was for that ring Frances Bentley is wearing.” Jennifer turned to Jonathan. “We should call Lieutenant Gray.” “Frank explained the ring. It‟s a copy.” “Sounds good to me.” Max turned to leave. “He had a copy made? Since this afternoon?” Jennifer didn‟t hide the incredulity in her voice. “I see your point. One hour photos maybe, but not four-hour rings.” Jonathan‟s brow knitted together. “Exactly.” “Still we don‟t know that that is the same ring Mrs. Montgomery had. We can‟t just call the cops on our guests.” “Why not? Maybe we should, for once, call the cops first.” “She‟s right. You two get into trouble a lot.” Max nodded. “In a house full of people? What can they do?” Jennifer rolled her eyes. “They could have a gun. It wouldn‟t be the first time our houseguests were in danger from another uninvited guest.” Jonathan rubbed his hands up and down her arms. She knew he was trying to calm her. He was going to work his charm to get her see things his way. And it almost always worked, dammit. “ Let‟s see how the evening goes, and then we can call Lt. Gray.” She pursed her lips. “I‟ll get more scotch.” Max headed down to the cellar. “I don‟t like it.” “We‟ll be fine.” Jonathan gave her a quick kiss then edged her out of the kitchen. “Let me get some food so they don‟t know we‟ve been in here considering calling the police.” Jonathan laughed. “Good thinking.” “Hors d‟oeuvres?” Jennifer carried the tray into the living room and offered the treats to Frances. “Thank you.” Frances picked up a pate on a cracker and ate. “Oh, it‟s delicious.” “Max made them. It‟s amazing what one can whip up in an afternoon.” Jonathan sent her a warning look, but she smirked and moved on to offer the other guests the food.

The evening went off without a hitch. No guns. No fist fights. Just a regular quiet cocktail party. Jonathan was bothered as much as Jennifer was about the ring. And nearly reconsidered calling Lt. Gray each time the ring glinted on Frances‟ finger. What were the odds Frank could have a copy made so quickly. Maybe Jennifer was right. It wasn‟t their job to sort out if the ring was related to Mrs. Montgomery‟s murder. Ultimately, he decided to wait. A fewhours later, he was wishing his guests a safe drive home and looking forward to a quiet rest of the night with Jennifer. Only Richard and the Bentley‟s were left, sitting on the sofas around the fire place. “It‟s been a wonderful party.” Richard set his empty class of scotch on the table. “We should be going too, so you can get some rest,” Frances said. “Nonsense. Stay,” Jennifer said. So much for letting Lt. Gray do the sleuthing. “We haven‟t had a chance to talk all night. And it‟s barely…” “Midnight.” Frank glanced at his watch. “You see, the night is young.” Jonathan would have laughed. Jennifer‟s investigative senses had kicked in. Max entered from the kitchen, picking up Richard‟s glass and other party items. “Jennifer is right. We must have a number of mutual friends in New York. Jim Blake, the attorney?” The Bentleys shook their heads slightly. “Charlotte Meyer, the sculptress?” Jennifer offered. “No.” “Jersey Miller?” Frank asked. “The bookie?” Max stopped mid-wiping of the bar. “Him and me go way back.” He left the bar moving closer to the conversation. “And Sy Fuller?” “Tommy-the-hook‟s manager…sure we talked last week.” Frank nodded, and for the first time that night looked like he might be enjoying himself. “Haven‟t seen him in years. Say, did he ever get married again?” Max asked. “Sure, plenty. He loves getting married.” Jonathan scanned the group. “Wouldn‟t coin collecting be less trouble?” “I want you to know that these are all friends from Frankie‟s side of the family.” “Now, now, Frances, you like them too.” “Well, yes, except for that stumpy fellow.” She pinched her face into distaste. “Stumpy Jackson?” Max‟s brows lifted in surprise. Frank nodded. “Small world.” “Max, perhaps our guests would like some coffee,” Jennifer suggested. “Huh? Oh, sure thing Mrs. H.” Max turned to Frank. “Wanna help? Give us a chance to catch up.” “I‟d love to, Max.” Frank stood and followed Max into the kitchen. “They certainly hit it off,” Richard said once the two men disappeared behind the door. “My husband has a colorful past. In fact, my mother was dead set against our marriage. She didn‟t think I should choose a man whose best quality was the ability to pick the Daily Double. But Daddy decided it was enough.” Jennifer smiled. “Well, it‟s obvious that Frank is crazy about you. I mean to have that ring copied and all.” And maybe murder, Jonathan thought. There was a lot he‟d do for Jennifer. And he supposed he‟d kill for her. But not for a ring. “You know, I‟m thinking about doing the same for Jennifer.” Frances jerked back. “Having her copied?” “The ring.” Jonathan laughed. “Were did Frank have it made so quickly?” Frances eyes widened. “So…quickly?” “Yes. That‟s one jeweler we simply must know.” Frances eyes scanned the room and settled on the catalog from the day‟s auction. “Oh, you thought he had it made today?” She gave a nervouslaugh, that Jonathan wasn‟t buying. “Please, our jeweler can‟t change the battery in my watch in an afternoon. He had it made weeks ago from the pictures in the auction catalog. Just in case we couldn‟t get it here.” “Now that is thoughtful.” Jonathan cast a glance to Jennifer to see if she was falling for this line. “I wonder if I might… could I see the ring? Can I hold it?” Frances looked toward the kitchen, probably hoping Frankie, with his quick wit probably honed from working the streets of New York, would appear. “Hold it…well, certainly. I suppose.” She pulled the ring from her finger and handed it to Jennifer. Jennifer held the ring up, studying it in the light. Jonathan wouldn‟t have said he was an expert, but he had some experience with jewelry and to his untrained eye, the ring looked real. Jennifer slid the ring on her finger. “Frances, this is absolutely beautiful.” She held her hand out for Jonathan to see. “Isn‟t this a wonderful copy, Jonathan?” “Incredible.” “Please be careful.” Frank‟s voice came as he entered the living room caring a tray of coffee. Max followed with another tray of cups. “Even though it‟s a copy, it was rather expensive.” He set the coffee down. “Actually, I really think we should be going Frances.” “Going?” Max‟s cigar drooped from his lips. “Yes, I think you‟re right, sweetheart. It has been a long day. The flight, the auction…everything.” “Of course, we certainly understand. I‟ll just…” Jennifer tugged on the ring to return it to Frances. Her gazed jumped to Jonathan with a mixture of embarrassment and horror. “What‟s the matter, darling?” “Well…” She tugged harder. “It seems to be…stuck.” Frank reached out and grabbed her hand, tugging at the ring. “It can‟t be. Here.” Jonathan moved forward, ready to pound on Frank for grabbing Jennifer. “Frank, you‟re hurting her.” Frances stood up. “Maybe some butter,” Richard suggested. “Please, trust me. This ring isn‟t going anywhere. I‟m sorry.” Jonathan took her hand, and could see it start to swell around the knuckle. “Don‟t worry. I know a jeweler who can cut it off first thing in the morning.” “I can only hope you mean her finger.” “Frankie!” “I feel just awful about it, but at least it‟s just a copy.” Frank and Frances look a little sick, but Frances regained her composure. “Jennifer has a point Frankie. Let‟s get Ralph and go back to the hotel.” “I‟ll round him up for ya.” Max headed to the kitchen where Freeway and Ralph had been playing. “Tell you what. We‟ll get the ring off and meet you and D‟Orsay‟s for lunch tomorrow.” Jennifer perked up. “That‟s a wonderful idea. The food is sensational. Our treat. Why don‟t you join us too, Richard?” “I appreciate the offer, but if I miss another day of classes, my students will start to think they can do the same.” Richard and the Bentleys headed to the foyer. Both Frank and Frances kept glancing at the ring. Fortunately, Jennifer‟s brilliant idea and acting ability would allow them to keep the ring until they could get an expert to look at it, and possibly call Lt. Gray. Max entered from the dining room door with Ralph and Freeway. “Thank you Max.” Frances took Ralph. “Did mommy‟s little angel have a good time?” Max nodded. “About two slippers worth.”Max held up two slippers. “Oh. I am so sorry,” Frances said. “S‟okay. Freeway was the ringleader.” They all said goodbye and Max closed the door. “As soon as everyone is through the gate, I‟ll switch the security on.” “Thanks, Max. Good night.” Jonathan wrapped an arm around Jennifer. “What a night.” “You handled it beautifully. You‟re performance with the ring was Oscar worthy.” “No, darling. It‟s really stuck.” “Good night all.” Max headed back to the kitchen to turn on the security.” “What do you say to a trip to the second floor, Mrs. Hart?” She smiled, and as always, it dazzled. “I think my passport is current.”

Jennifer stood at her bathroom vanity, dipping her finger in the lotion jar, sinking it until the white cream surrounded the ring. Then she pulled it out, using her other hand to coat the ring and her finger beneath it. “Darling, what are you doing?” Jonathan called from the bedroom. “Using my night cream.” She worked the ring, wiggling it and tugging it along her finger. “You‟re not coming to bed with that stuff on your face are you?” Frustrated, she wiped her finger with a towel and headed to bed. “I was using it on my finger. I thought maybe it would help.” “What would help, is for you to relax.” Jonathan smiled up at her and patted the bed. “I know I‟m not an expert on nineteenth century French jewelry, but if this is a copy, I think it could fool Josephine herself.” “We‟ll have our answer to that at the jeweler‟s tomorrow morning. For now, there‟s another answer I‟m looking for.” His brows rose expectantly. She smiled as she recognized the gleam in his eyes. “Oh? And what‟s the question?” She climbed under the covers, moving toward him. “The question is-“ Jennifer pressed a finger to his lips. “Whatever it is, the answer is „yes‟” Jonathan smiled and pulled her to him, covering her mouth with his. She moaned as she sank into his embrace, into his kiss. He pulled back, his hand laced with her fingers, bringing it to his mouth. His lips slid over her finger, sending an erotic charge straight to her center. His gaze caught with hers, and she saw that same flash of excitement in them as she felt. He released her finger, sucking on the tip slightly. “There‟s only one thing that could make this more perfect.” “I bet I can guess what that is.” He nodded. “Chocolate cake.” It took her a moment to register what he said. “Chocolate cake?” He nodded. “You‟re joking.” He dragged a finger along her collar bone. “With lots of frosting.” The electric heat spiked again, she understood his meaning. Visions of his mouth and tongue lapping up chocolate from her skin fogged her brain. She kissed him. “One midnight snack coming up.” She rolled out of bed and put on her robe. “You‟re too good to me.” He winked at her. “You bet I am.” She gave him a seductive smile before slipping out the door of their bedroom. She entered the kitchen, flipping on the light, and heading to the covered cake plate. She lifted the lid to reveal a chocolate layer cake. “How can Max do this to us?” Oh well. She‟d burn it off. And then some. She smiled at all the different ways she‟d burn off the cake. All of a sudden, the lights went out, startling her. “Jonathan?” Had he decided to move their snack to the kitchen? But there was no response. “Is someone there?” She caught movement. A figure rushed toward her. She was able to move away just before it reached her. “Jonathan!” She ran toward the refrigerator. The figure lunged toward her. She swung the door open, causing him to jerk back. Light shone on the face of a young, twentyish man holding a knife. “What do you want?” She started to back away. “I want that ring, Mrs. Hart.” He pushed the door to the refrigerator shut, and advanced on her with the knife. “No…please…” The lights clicked on. “Jennifer?” She turned to see Jonathan and Max entering. Jonathan‟s eyes narrowed and darkened. He reached out a hand, pulling Jennifer to safety, but his gaze stayed on the intruder. “Just hold it there.” The man lunged, jabbing with the knife. Jonathan pushed Jennifer back, and grabbed the man‟s wrist banging it down on the counter, forcing the knife to fly out of the attacker‟s hand. The man wrangled away, swinging his fist at Jonathan. The two men, struggled as Jennifer searched the area for something she could us as a weapon. But Max pulled her back. The man landed a blow on Jonathan‟s jaw, sending him sprawling on the floor in front of them. “Jonathan!” Jennifer dropped to her knees, as the man raced to the kitchen door, setting off the alarm as he escaped into the night. But Jennifer was more concerned with Jonathan, cradled unconscious in her arms.

Chapter Three

“I‟ll call the police.” Max picked up the phone. “Jonathan?” He stirred in her arms, lifting his hand to his jaw. He moaned slightly as his eyes opened and he sat up. “You‟re hurt.” Instinctively, she leaned forward to kiss the red bruise forming on his jaw. He winced and she pulled away. “You need something for that jaw, Mr. H?” Jennifer helped Jonathan to a chair in front of the fire place. “No thanks, Max. The only thing that really hurts is my pride. I didn‟t get a good look at him.” “I did and if I see him again, I‟ll recognize him enough for the both of us.”

They gave their statements to the police including information about the Bentleys and the ring. “I‟ll send someone to talk to them.” Lt. Gray jotted a note in his notepad. “Well, it wasn‟t them.” Jennifer said. “This man was too young.” “They could have sent him.” Jonathan rubbed his jaw. “He‟d had to have already been lurking around.” Max handed Jonathan some ice, who accepted it after all. “The alarm was on. It didn‟t go off until he ran off out the back.” Lt. Gray finished taking their statement. “You two gonna be alright? I can have someone stay.” “I doubt he‟ll be back tonight.” “And tomorrow, the ring will be gone.” “We‟re supposed to meet the Bentley‟s for lunch. Maybe you could intervene.” “So far, there‟s nothing to link them. Unless that ring is found to be the real deal.” Lt. Gray stood. “Like I said, let me see what I can learn and I‟ll let you know.”

The next morning, Jennifer showed Mr. Hardgrave, the jeweler, her finger. “Normally we‟d have to cut this off.” “I hope you‟re not talking about my finger.” Jennifer swallowed the ball of panic at the idea of having her finger lopped off. Mr. Hardgrave laughed. “No, the ring. But a doctor buddy of mine showed me another way to get stuck rings off. We can try it first. Hold on. I need to find some dental floss.” “Offering dental services on the side?” Jonathan rested a reassuring hand on Jennifer‟s back. “No. When I learned of this technique, I bought some just for this type of situation.” Mr. Hardgrave opened a drawer. “Ah, here we are.” He pulled out a plastic container of dental floss and cut a yard-long string. “Give me your finger.” Jennifer held out her hand, and watched as Mr. Hardgrave slipped one end of the dental floss under the ring. Then he started wrapping the dental floss round her finger toward her knuckle. “This might feel uncomfortable as it will be tight.” “You‟re not going to hurt the blood flow are you?” Jonathan winced at the sight of her finger turning shades of red and blue. “Not long enough to cause permanent damage.” Jennifer held her breath, because it was uncomfortable. “Okay, now I‟m going use this shorter end to unravel the floss, and the ring should just slide up the finger. Ready?” “More than ready.” Mr. Hardgrave tugged on the floss, unwrapping it from her finger, and slowly the ring moved up her finger. The skin around her knuckle started to look like a stuffed sausage and she wondered if this would work, but then the ring slid over her knuckle and to the thinner part of her finger. “It worked.” She pulled ring from her finger, and freed it from the dental floss. “Like magic. And saved the ring, which is a nice one.” Jennifer rubbed her finger to get the blood flowing again. “You missed your calling, Mr. Hardgrave. You should have been a doctor.” “It‟s a little late for me to be changing careers, but I can always use the flattery.” Jonathan reached in to his pocket and pulled out several large denomination bills. “Think of it as sincere appreciation. “Thank you Mr. Hart. You can‟t get more sincere than that.” “As long as we‟re here, could you examine the ring? It‟s supposed to be a copy, but I‟d still like an appraisal.” “I‟d be delighted.” He took the ring and started to examine it through his jeweler‟s loupe. “Mmm. Even today‟s finest craftsmenhave trouble getting this kind of detail out of a casting. I‟d say this is early nineteenth century…at the latest. Congratulations, Mrs. Hart, you haven‟t got a copy. This is the genuine article.” Jennifer glanced at Jonathan wondering if they were about to have lunch with murderers.

“Jonathan, if this ring is authentic…” Jennifer examined the ring as they drove to the restaurant for their lunch date. “Then Frank‟s story about having it made for Frances isn‟t.” “That would make the Bentleys involved in Anne Montgomery‟s murder after all.” “Either that, or they know the fastest fence in town.” “And the man in our kitchen?”Jennifer shivered at the memory of the young man wielding the knife. “Interesting that he knew the ring was with us, instead of the Bentleys.” Jennifer looked at her watch. “We‟re supposed to meet them for lunch in an hour. All of a sudden, I‟m not hungry.” Jonathan took her hand, kissed it. “You‟ll feel better after we‟ve exchanged the ring for some answers.” “That‟s the problem Jonathan, Frank‟s answers are always convincing.” She suspected that‟s why they hadn‟t heard from Lt. Gray yet. Frank had probably spun some yarn that sounded realistic.

At D‟Orsay‟s, the Harts were seated at a corner table. “Thank you Pierre. We‟ll order when our guests arrive.” Jonathan wasn‟t particularly hungry either. At least not for food. He was hungry for information and an explanation. Hearing Jennifer call out to him with panic in her voice still echoed in his brain. Finding that man threatening Jennifer with a knife made his heart stall. Even the memory of it made his chest contract. He told himself that maybe the man only planned to cut the ring off, which would have been bad enough, but not deadly. But then he thought of Anne Montgomery, and knew the man had murder on his mind. He shuttered and pushed the though aside. The waiter brought and poured champagne. Jennifer sipped from the flute. “You don‟t think Dom Perignon ‟46 is a little too hospitable, considering our guests may be involved in murder.” “No, I think it‟s toohospitable considering what almost happened to you last night. But maybe we can charm the truth from them.” “Catch more flies with champagne than vinegar?” “Exactly.” Jonathan nodded toward the older couple coming their way. “And it looks like our guest are circling for a landing now.” Jonathan stood. “Jennifer, Jonathan, good to see you again.” Frank extended his hand to shake Jonathan‟s. “My, what a lovely restaurant.” Frank helped Frances into her seat. “Jennifer deserves the credit.” Jonathan sat. “This is her discovery.” “Only one of several discoveries lately.” Jonathan glanced at her, noting her comment towards the ring. “And champagne. Really, you shouldn‟t have,” Frances said. “That‟s what I said, but Jonathan is…Jonathan.” “How sweet. Isn‟t it Frankie?” “Where‟s Ralph?” Jonathan asked. “I thought you were inseparable?” “He‟s at the hotel. We had to change hotels last night, and Ralph didn‟t get a lot of sleep.” Frank said. “Plus, he never hits it off with head waiters. They‟re usually too high-strung.” Jonathan wondered if that meant Lt. Gray hadn‟t talked to them. Had he found them at their new location? Frank nodded toward Jennifer‟s hand. “I see the ring-ectomy was a success.” Jonathan frowned, studying Frank to see if there was a hint of deception or guile. “Not thanks to a visitor to our house last night.” “He tried to remove it with a carving knife.” Frank and Frances exchanged startled glances. Surprise?Or guilt? “He was after my ring! How terrible.” “We‟re not sure it is your ring, Frances.” Jonathan figured it was time to stop playing around. “Our jeweler tells us it‟s a genuine antique.” “Which means it belonged to the late Anne Montgomery.” Jonathan waited and watched, and anticipated what the Bentleys might do. “Oh dear, Frankie. Things seem to have gotten out of hand.” “To put it mildly,” Jennifer muttered. “I guess it‟s time we leveled with them, dear.” “Or with Lr. Gray at homicide. It‟s up to you.” Frank paused. “It‟s true, that ring is authentic.” “Then you admit-“ “That there are two rings,” Frances said. Jonathan looked at Jennifer to see if was buying this story. Her hazel eyes looked as dubious as he felt. “Napoleon commissioned a pair.” Jennifer pulled the ring from her purse. “Then…this isn‟t Anne Montgomery‟s ring?” Frances shook her head. “No dear. Frank boughtit for me in New York eons ago as a wedding present. The jeweler told us about its history.” “And when we read that its mate would be auctioned in Los Angeles, we hopped the next plane,” Frank finished explaining. Frances put her hand over Frank‟s. “A sentimental journey.” But Jonathan wasn‟t convinced. “So why the story about it being a copy?” “When we heard about that poor woman‟s death, we thought…” Jennifer frowned. “You thought we…?!” “You were the only other serious bidders.” “And when you spotted my ring, well, Frankie didn‟t want to take any chances.” “But murder?” Jennifer looked to Jonathan and back to the Bentleys. “How could you think such a thing about us?” Jonathan shrugged and patted Jennifer‟s hand. “I guess the same way we could think it about them, darling.” She gave a wan smile. “Good point. It looks like we owe each other an apology.” Frankie lifted his champagne flute. “I‟ll drink to that.” “And so will we.” Jonathan lifted his flute and they all clinked glasses. Jennifer handed the ring back to Frances. “I‟m so glad to have it back.” “Don‟t forget, someone else wants it too.” Jonathan warned. “Which is why our next stop is the airport.” Frank said. “Do you know anything else about the rings that might explain why people want them badly enough to kill?” Jennifer asked. “There really isn‟t much more to tell,” Frank said. “Napoleon commission the two rings and an exquisite necklace called the The Heart of France for his and Josephine‟s coronation as Emperor and Empress of France.” Jennifer smiled at him at Jonathan, loving him with her eyes. It always made his heart overflow awe.“How romantic. That‟s just the sort of thing you would do.” “But, supposedly the second ring was for Napoleon‟s mistress. Jennifer‟s expression dropped. Jonathan squeezed her hand. “And that‟s where the similarity ends.” “In any case, in the confusion following Waterloo, the two rings and the fabulous red diamond that gave the necklace its name, just disappeared. End of story.” Jonathan studied the domed sparkling ring Frances held in her hand. “Until the two rings reappeared.” Jennifer sighed. “We don‟t seem any closer to an answer than we were before the history lesson.” The waiter arrived at the table, handing each one a menu. “At least we‟re closer to lunch. Intrigue does wonders for my appetite.” Frances opened her menu.

The lunch was pleasant and Jonathan determined that Jennifer had been right; there were some similarities. He imagined in 30 years, they might be similar to the Bentleys. “Thanks, Jonathan. The chocolate mousse alone was worth the price of admission.” Frank extended his arm to shake Jonathan‟s hand outside the restaurant as they prepared to go their separate ways. “I‟m surprised you didn‟t try the Napoleon,” Jennifer said. “They were tempting, but I think we‟ve already bagged our limit on French imports.” Frank laughed. “Goodbye my dears. The next time you‟re in New York, lunch will be on us,” Frances said. “It‟s a date.” Jennifer gave Frances a hug. They watched as the Bentley‟s walked to their limousine. The driver got out and opened the door for them. Jennifer clutched Jonathan‟s arm painfully. “Jonathan. The Bentley‟s driver. He was the man in our house last night.” “You‟re sure?” The man turned to Jennifer, smirked and then got in the car. “I‟ve never been more sure of anything in my life.” The parking attendant pulled up in their Mercedes. “Whatever he‟s doing with the Bentleys, it‟s not by accident.” Jonathan bit back his annoyance at being duped again. “Oh Jonathan. He can‟t be working for them. He just can‟t be.” “Well, there‟s one way to find out.” Jonathan helped Jennifer into the car, then rushed to the driverside and hopped in. He pulled out, speeding to catch up to the Bentley‟s limo. As they got closer, the limo begins to go faster, weaving through traffic. “They‟re trying to lose us.” Jennifer gripped the handle of the car as Jonathan worked to keep up with the limo. “Not if I can help it.” Jonathan accelerated as he realized they were coming up to an intersection. If he missed the light, he could lose them. The limo sped through, but the light changed, and Jonathan pressed down on the pedal, to keep up. A truck entered the intersection at the same time. Jonathan swore as he swerved to avoid a collision. The car spun, and Jennifer screamed. He had a moment to wonder if he‟d made the wrong decision. He knew they were impulsive and too curious. Had their behavior let him to make a fatal move? The car finally came to a stop on the other side of the intersection. Immediately he turned to her. “Jennifer.” She swallowed and nodded. “I‟m fine, darling.” Her gaze jerked out the window. “Then again…” Jonathan spun his gaze to see the limo pull up beside them. The driver‟s side window lowered revealing a gun pointed at them. Chapter Four

“Jonathan, Jennifer, I‟m so sorry you‟ve become involved in this.” “Richard?” Jennifer looked to Jonathan and then Richard. What was going on? “But you‟re just in time for the drawing room scene.” “If this is where we find out the chauffer did it, we‟re way ahead of you.” Jennifer still couldn‟t wrap her head around what was happening. Perhaps their near miss in the car had scrambled her brain after all. “Whelen was just following orders…mine.” “And we thought Quasimodo was with you.” Jonathan spoke to Frank, but nodded toward Whelen. “He came with the car. Compliments of our friend here.” Frank gave a nod toward Richard. “Next time we‟ll rent.” Frances didn‟t hide her disdain for Richard. “If you wanted the ring so badly, why weren‟t you bidding at the auction?” It seemed so obvious to Jennifer. She must be missing something. “As I told you Jennifer, it was out of my league. With Whelen‟s help, I didn‟t need to bid.” “You just had to see who won,” Frank said. Richard nodded. “I had hoped my quest would end with Ms. Montgomery, unfortunately…” Richard pulled out the ring from Anne Montgomery. Using a small jeweler‟s tool, he poked at the base of the dome, which popped open to reveal a hidden compartment. “As beautiful as this ring is, for my purpose, it‟s worthless.” “You mean there‟s supposed to be something inside?” Frances asked. “He probably thought it only worked with Cracker Jack, dear.” “In the course of my studies, I came across the original design sketches.” He held out his hand toward Frances indicating he wanted the ring. She hesitated until Whelen pointed his gun at her. Richard took the ring, and like the first one, popped open the dome. Tilting it, a large red, sparkling stone dropped into his hand. “The compartment was just the right size and shape...” “The long-lost Heart of France,” Jonathan finished. “A rare red diamond. Perfectly cut and well over five carats.” “It must be priceless.” Jennifer couldn‟t help but admire the red stone. “I‟m sure a price can be negotiated, Jennifer, at the private auction I have planned for it.” “And what do you have planned for us.” Frank‟s words echoed Jennifer‟s thoughts. “We‟re all going for a little drive. But first, if I may suggest a drink.” Richard went to the bar and pulled out a bottle of scotch. He poured four large tumblers full of the liquid. “Isn‟t it a little early in the day?” Jonathan said. “The professor wants you to have a drink. Let‟s not disappoint him.” Whelen waggled the gun towards Jonathan. “Straight scotch?”Frances asked. “I suppose a Brandy Alexander is out of the question.” Jennifer knew it was dangerous to be flippant, and yet, there was no doubt Richard had a sinister plan for them. Her smart mouth wouldn‟t change that for the worse. “Well…cheers…” Frank held up his glass and drank. Frances, Jonathan and Jennifer reluctantly followed suit. When their glasses were empty, Richard refilled them. “Come on everyone. Bottoms up.” Jennifer looked to Jonathan. Getting drunk probably wasn‟t worst way to die, but ultimately, she didn‟t want to die at all. Whelen waved his gun at her and she drank as did the rest of them.

The limo sat parked at the edge of the steep cliff dropping into the Pacific Ocean. Jonathan sat in the driver seat, with Jennifer next to him. In the back, sat Frank and Frances. “Uh, „scuse me, but this isn‟t the car we came in.” Jonathan hiccoughed. “It was little, an‟ yellow….” “An‟ cute.Very cute. I remember distinc…distinc…absolutely.” Jennifer craned her head to see Whelen standing outside the door. “All set, Professor.” “Release the break. Goodbye, my friends.” Whelen released the break and the car began to roll forward toward down the steep grade. “G-bye, don‟t forget to write.” Frank saluted Richard as they rolled off. “I know a little place near here where we could get a nightcap.” Jonathan turned in his seat to look back at Frances. “‟S too early.” “Okay, then what about a daycap?” Frances giggled. “Don‟t look now, but I think they‟re trying to kill us.” Jennifer pointed out the front window. Jonathan shook his head. “How can you tell?” Fog clouded Jonathan‟s mind and vision. He shook his head to clear it. “With all this fog…oh…that‟s better.” Jonathan grabbed the steering wheel, cranking it to the left. The limo swerved, dirt and rocks skidded off the edge of the cliff. The right tire dipped, as if going off the edge but then the car shot back out toward the road. “Jonathan, are you in any condition to drive?” “Me? I thought you were driving.” Jonathan manipulated the wheel, but his hands felt separate from the rest of his body, so the car weaved and lurched down the steep road. “Just aim it down the center line, dear. It always works for me.” Frances offered from the back seat. “That‟s a good idea.” Jonathan gripped the wheel tighter, and squinted his eyes to focus on the yellow line. “Which one?” The edge of the cliff zoomed up on them again. Jonathan cranked the wheel, sending everyone in the car lurching to the right. As he came around a turn, he nearly hit a parked highway patrol car. “Jonathan I think Richard is following us.” “I hope he‟s not going to offer more scotch.” “I know I‟ve had my fill,” Frank agreed from the back. “I hear a siren. Or bells. I get them mixed up,” Frances said. “It sounds like a policeman. Dijou run a stop sign?” Jennifer turned to look over her shoulder. Frank turned too. “It is a policeman. Following Richard.” “Good. Then he can drive.” Jonathan started to slow down, but Richard‟s car hit their rear bumper, making it swerve and lurch forward. “Man the lifeboats, we‟ve hit a reef.” Jonathan bit his lower lip, focusing on getting the car under control. “No such luck. It‟s our bartender.” “Tell „em I‟ve gone on the wagon,” Frances said. “Jonathan, look out.” Jonathan took his gaze off the review mirror to see a car coming up the hill toward them. He jerked the wheel, swerving to the left-hand lane, forcing the oncoming car to veer into his lane to avoid him. Jonathan righted the car and checked the review mirror again just in time to see Richard‟s car veer out of the way of the oncoming car by going off the cliff. Jonathan pulled over to the side of the road, blowing out a breath. The police car pulled up behind him, and walked up to the car. Frank rolled down his window. “I‟ll have a cheeseburger an‟ milkshake…to go.” “An officer of the law. Thank goodness,” Frances said. Jennifer pointed to the back. “Officer, arrest the men in that car back there.” Her eyes narrowed. “Where‟d it go?” “We‟re safe from Richard, but I‟m pretty sure, we‟re headed to jail.”

Chapter Four

Jonathan sat next to Jennifer in the living room, unable to keep from touching her, to remind himself they were safe and alright. Across from them on the other couch, sat Frank and Frances. They‟d indeed been taken to the police station and then, later to the hospital to make sure they didn‟t suffer from alcohol poisoning. Fortunately, the officer had seen Richard‟s car try to hit the limo before going off the cliff. And Lt. Gray was able to make the connection between Richard and Anne Montgomery‟s death. So they were released and after a night of sleeping it off, they all met again at the Harts to have dinner before the Bentley‟s headed back to New York. “The Beef Wellington was delicious, Jennifer.” Frank lifted his glass of water in toast to Jennifer. They all were done with alcohol for the time being. “Oh. Thank Max. That‟s his specialty.” “Now we owe you two wonderful meals, dears.” Frances was snuggled next to Frank, his arm holding her tightly. Perhaps he felt like Jonathan did, that their near death experience was too close. “And we have every intention of letting you even the score the next time we‟re in New York.” Max entered from the kitchen, carrying four brandy snifters on a tray. “Okay, let‟s see hands. Who wants an after dinner drink.” Jonathan‟s stomach roiled. “Max please. We‟ve barely recovered from the scotch.” Jennifer flinched. Max set the tray down and picked up the bottle. “I just thought after Beef Wellington, Napoleon Brandy would hit the spot.” They all laughed, although to Jonathan‟s mind, they all looked a little green, just like he felt. “I‟ll just leave it there, in case you change your mind.” “Are you sure you wouldn‟t like a drink, darling.” Jennifer looked up at him with those gorgeous hazel eyes. “Darling, you‟re all the intoxication I need.” Then, not caring he had an audience, he dipped his head, and drank from her luscious lips. “Remember when you used to talk to me like that,” Frances said. “Remember when you used to listen?” But Frank smiled and kissed his wife. “If there‟s nothing else…” Max stopped, realizing no one was paying attention. “Well, I hate to see this go to waste. He grabbed a glass and a bottle, taking them both back to the kitchen with him.

Jonathan entered the bedroom from the dressing area. The Bentley‟s headed back to their hotel and would be on their way home tomorrow. He was already thinking of a surprise trip to New York for Jennifer. They could shop, visit the Bentleys, and perhaps take an Affair to Remember-type trip to the top of the Empire State. Jennifer entered the bedroom from her side of the dressing area. She wore a dark green negligee with a matching robe. His breath caught, as it often did, at her beauty. He made his way around the bed to her. She gave him a knowing smile. “Ah, are you craving chocolate cake again.” He shook his head, as his hands rubbed up her arms to her shoulders. “You‟re the only dessert I need.” His lips trailed along her jaw, nipping at her ear, as his fingers pushed the robe aside. She sighed. “No frosting?” The robe pooled at her feet. “You‟re all the smooth, creamy sweetness I need.” His lips caressed her neck, and over her shoulder, as he tugged the straps of her negligee aside, until it too fell to the floor. He looked up, long enough to admire her beautiful dancer‟s body. Then he kissed her again, moving her toward the bed. He pushed her sit on the edge of the bed, until she laid back. “You‟re more intoxicating than any fine wine.” “Or scotch.” She laughed. He only smiled and kissed her again. He dragged his tongue down her neck and along her collar bone. “Delicious.” She sighed and he felt her go pliant, surrendering her pleasure to him. He moved to her breast, taking it into his mouth like an ice cream cone, then releasing it to swirl his tongue around the tightened nipple. “Mouth watering,” he murmured before taking the other breast between his lips. Her fingers threaded through his hair, holding him to her breasts. She let out a small whimper when his attention left her breasts, and he moved lower. Her hips gyrated instinctively and he smiled. She knew his destination. But he took his time getting there, tasting, licking, laving her lower and lower. “Jonathan.” She gasped in frustration when he bypassed her most sensitive area and suckled on the inside of her thigh. “Mmm…” He hummed against her thigh. “The sweetest nectar.” She moaned in anticipation. Not wanting to make her wait a second more, he laved his tongue through her folds. Her hips jerked, and she let out a long groan. And then he feasted, using his tongue and lips to drive her up and up, slowing down long enough to let her hang, before pushing her up again. He knew it was a sweet torture for her, and one that ended in a powerful pleasure that she always returned to him in spades. “Jonathan.” His name came from her lips in a gasp, letting him know she was at the tipping point. He slipped his hands underneath her hips, and focused his lips and tongue on her most sensitive nub. Immediately, she cried out, her hips gyrating against his mouth. He stayed with her, working to extend her pleasure as long as possible before bringing her down. He kissed her inner thighs, and began to work his way back up her body. “Better than any chocolate,” he whispered against her lips, and then he kissed her, hoping she understood just how much he loved her. The only thing he needed in his life was her. That point was always brought home in the moments he thought he might lose her. Nothing…not Hart Industries…not the money…not the success…nothing was more important than her. Before he‟d met her, he thought he‟d had a full and happy life. Yes, he‟d wanted to find someone to share it with, but until she came into his life, he hadn‟t understood how incomplete he‟d been. Or how the love of another could so completely change what he‟d thought was important. He moved to adjust her on the bed, so he could start loving her all over again, but she pushed him back. Her hands cradled his face. “One good turn.” Her eyes glinted in that way that made his groin twitch. He scooted off her and stood next to the bed, as she sat up. With that sexy knowing smile on her face, she hooked her fingers in the waist band of his pajama bottoms and pulled them down. The evidence of his desire sprang out, and she immediately drew him into her mouth. He let out an expletive as pleasure speared sharp, making his hips jerk forward. She hummed around him, and he hardened even more. He threaded his fingers in her hair, and closed his eyes to focus on her magnificent mouth.

Jennifer gloried in the power she felt when this strong viral man succumbed to her ministrations. Jennifer loved adventure, but she didn‟t like danger, and the fear of losing him it sometimes brought. She‟d never been prone to believing in fairy tales or the need for a man to make her life complete. She supposed she didn‟t need him to be successful, but she needed him for her happiness. No one had ever made her feel so powerful and loved. Everything she‟d once thought was important, faded away, replaced by her love for this man. He was everything to her. And once again, she‟d almost lost it because curiosity got the best of them. She pushed that way, and instead focused on loving him. Her tongue swirled around the rim, and then she sucked him deep into her mouth. He let out a low, long, feral groan, letting her know she was doing it just right. She cupped him, caressing him as her mouth worked him. “Jennifer.” The strain in his voice told her he was getting close. She readied to take him all the way, but in an instant, he‟d withdrawn, hoisted her up, and then laid her further back on the bed. His hips settled between her thighs and he sunk in, slow, deep and oh so perfect. She wrapped her legs around him, to hold him within her. Savoring the feel of him pulsing, growing inside her. He began to move in long, slow strokes, and she moved with him. He was taking his time, and she was okay with that. Long slow love making was one of her favorites. Hard and fast was great too. In fact, every way they made love was perfection. They rolled, and she was on top, riding him, rocking against him, until they rolled again. This time, he levered up, grabbing her hips and lifting as he trust in and out. When they rolled again, he suckled her breasts as she rocked against him. Before he could change positions again, she moved off of him. He growled in protest, but his eyes shone with erotic interest at what she had in mind. She turned from him, kneeling on the bed, and gripping the headboard. She looked at him over her shoulder, and hungry desire gazed back at her. He maneuvered himself to kneel behind her, his hands on her hips. “You undo me.” He whispered against her shoulder as he cascaded kisses. Then he slid in from behind. Their love life was filled with different paces and positions. They both preferred making love face to face, watching the other as love and pleasure overtook them. But there was no denying the erotic charge that came from other positions. He moved in and out, his fingers gripping her hips. She met him thrust for trust, push back against him, each time he pressed forward. His hands slid around to her belly, pulling her back, so she was flush against him. Her hands reached back to grip his thighs. One of his hands, slid up to her breast, lightly kneading and pinching the hard nipple. His other hand, moved down, his finger sliding between her folds and rubbing circles over her most sensitive center. She gasped as need coiled tighter and tighter. He was assaulting all her senses. Her head dropped back to rest on his shoulder, as he continued to move inside her, and touch her in every erotic spot. Then his lips sucked lightly on the spot just below and behind her ear. Stars burst behind her eyes, as he sent her hot fast, and furious to exquisite pleasure. He was the most skilled lover ever, as he was able to maintain the intense pleasure, drawing it out, until she thought she couldn‟t breathe. And then slowly, he brought her down until she felt like a limp noodle. But he only gave her a moment, before he turned her, laid her on the bed, and hooking his arm under her knee to open her, he thrust in again. She gripped him, and held on, knowing he was about take her on a wild ride. But he held still. She opened her eyes, gazing in the most brilliant blue eyes, clouded with desire, and filled with love. “One more.” His voice was hoarse, telling her he was straining to hold back. But she knew his pleasure often came from hers. “I want to come with you.” Every time he did this, she wasn‟t sure she had one more in her. But every time, she did. His hand slid between their bodies, his fingers touching her again. His head dipped, suckling her breast, and immediately the slow shimmer of heat began to build again. He must have known, because he started move, slow and controlled, in and out. Building and building the need, until once again, he had her on the cusp. Her head arched back and her body tightened as she reached the pinnacle. And then, he let go of his own control, switching gears from slow and steady, to fast and frantic. He growled, as he levered up on his hands to gain better purchase, and he pounded against her, pistoning in and out of her. Her fingers gripped his hips, knowing she was about to shatter into a million pieces. “Come, Jennifer. Now.” And there it was. Pleasure so pure, so intense, so deep, her toes curled and her body convulsed. She managed to open her eyes long enough to see him, as he let go, and his own pleasure slammed into him. Together they moved, drawing out the exquisitesensations, and slowly riding them down, until he collapsed on her.

He started to roll off her, but she held him to her. She loved the weight of him on her, the feel of him inside her. In these moments, they were one in every way imaginable. Not just their bodies, but their beings. Their souls. “We beat them all.” She whispered in his ear. He lifted his head. His breath was still labored, but he managed to raise one brow. “In what?” “Love.Romance.Happiness.” He smiled, dipping his head to kiss her. “I agree.” Then he cocked his head. “Even more than Napoleon and Josephine?” “Absolutely. Their marriage didn‟t turn out so well. But you and I, we have what no one else seems to have. Maybe ever had.” He smiled. “It does seem like everyone one we know doesn‟t make it or doesn‟t seem happy in their relationships. We on the other hand…ah Jennifer…you‟re a part of me. My very soul.” She nodded, so pleased he understood. “It‟s sad, really.” He frowned. “Sad that you‟re part of my soul?” “No.” She tugged on his hair. “That no one else has what we do. Why do you think that is?” He shrugged. “I think partly they forget to put each other first. They put too much weight on the other person to make their life right. Sometimes it seems like they don‟t like each other.” Jennifer nodded. “You don‟t think I make your life right?” “What I mean is that they get lazy and expect the other person to be the source of all the happiness, without returning the favor. We understand that our happiness comes from being together, working together, making our lives instead of waiting for the other person to make us happy.” “I love you.” She pulled his head down so she could kiss him. She poured all her love into the kiss and felt him stir inside her again. She smiled against his lips. “Am I making you happy now.” He grinned. “You‟re amazing, you know that?” “Yeah, I do.” “And I love you beyond reason.” She nodded at him. “Are you feeling like some chocolate now?” Heat flashed in his eyes, and she felt him pulse to life within her. “Next time.” Then he kissed her, and together they proved again that their love was the love of a lifetime.