They said little of substance until the two of them had completed the ten minute walk from the main exhibition hall and were safe inside the suite in the Desert Inn.

'Do you think, I upset Russ?' He broke the silence as he helped her out of the short lightweight coat, she had worn to preserve a level of decorum. 'It's not going to cause trouble for Gaynor and yourself.'

'Don't worry!' She moved towards him and put her arms gently around his body, placing them loosely under his jacket. 'He's rather a bully and likes to have his own way. He'll get over it!' Her head was now resting on his shoulder and his hands were trying to avoid exploring the almost complete nakedness of her back. 'Pull me in tight! I need to feel you, hug you and hold you.'

'That's wonderful. And if I may say so, all of a bit sudden! Don't let it stop!' His hands started a thorough investigation of that perfect body. 'Do you realise, that until today, I've hardly touched or even shaken hands with any woman, let alone one as spectacularly gorgeous as you, since Catherine died. Her death hurt me so much!' He dropped his head and it fell in beside hers and he started to cry. 'I'm sorry! I must behave myself, I've only just met you!'

'Why be sorry! We've so much in common, that a good mutual hug from someone who understands will do us both the world of good! Anyway, with all of the research I've done about you. I feel that I know you well enough already.' She was wiping his tears away ever so gently with the fingers of her free left hand and pulling him in firmly with the other. 'I know how it all feels! John, my awful and vicious husband did the same to me. Since he died, all I've done is work, more work and look after my Cassie. I've been out twice with other men since and all I ever feel is guilty.' She started to cry as well. 'Does it feel like that for you?'

'I would feel very guilty, if I went out with a man!' They both laughed through the tears, hugging each other tighter. 'Perhaps, we should get showered and changed.'

'Russ, won't mind, so long as we're not too late!' Her hands had removed the jacket of his suit and were now at his tie. 'You're so tense you must be relaxed. Dr. Lucinda will soothe away all those nasty feelings.' She removed his red-striped shirt, carefully folding it and placing it on the bed. 'I won't do anything that your mother wouldn't have done and might still do for you.'

'She wouldn't do anything for me! I haven't seen her for twenty-five years!'

'I am sorry!' She motioned him, to sit on the padded dressing stool, which she had placed in front of the enormous mirror. 'I won't hurt you! Trust me!' As he went to speak, she put a finger to his mouth and he obediently kept quiet.

She started at his shoulders, digging those immaculate fingers deep into his strained and tired muscles, tendons and fibres. Bones clicked back into their proper place and all tension flowed away, as she proceeded to walk those strong fingers, up and down a back, that had not relaxed for months and had had to endure the worst of British Airways, Holiday Inns and hire cars for the last forty-eight hours.

'Where did you learn to do that?'

'I've always known how to do a bit. But another redhead from Sunderland called Rosie in San Francisco taught me!' She bent over and gently kissed him on the lips. 'She used to do all the stars. They were very demanding.'

Again she used her finger to stifle his reply and she made him turn on the stool, so that she could slip off his shoes and remove his socks. 'I like the Church's shoes, but where did you get these socks?' She held one disdainfully to her nose. Again the silencing finger, as he made to speak. 'Stand up. It's time for our shower!' He quickly obeyed and her hands undid his belt and fly, before dropping his trousers gracefully to the floor. 'I see that you're aroused and that you'll need to change your pants.' She tut-tutted and then placed a hand each side of the waistband of the offending garment and slowly drew them to the ground, so that he could step out. As she regained her full height, she kissed him on his thigh, at his waist, on both nipples and shoulders and finally on his lips.

'Now it's your turn to undress me!' She turned away from him. 'I don't shower in my jewellery and my underwear! And I'm too old to start now!' Again she silenced him.

His hands felt under that luxurious mane of hair and found the clasp to the choker at the back of her neck. As he removed the piece, he stroked that neck and she stretched and preened in appreciation of the attention and of the release. His hands then found each long and gold, dangling and sparkling earring as she turned her head slightly to present them and these he unclipped from their respective piercings. He reached and placed all of the jewellery safely on the glass of the dressing table.

She was still turned away from him, as he knelt down beside her and unhitched each suspender from the lacy tops of her stockings. He then unclipped the belt and threw it with a stripper's flourish onto the bed. She showed her disapproval of the rather tasteless action, with a slow shake of the head. He now turned her and put both hands on her shoulders to guide her onto the stool, before sitting to the front. She presented each slim leg, to allow him to slip off an Italian stiletto shoe and carefully remove an extremely sheer, red stocking. He examined and kissed each smooth, pedicured and red-nailed foot, before he lifted her carefully to her feet.

Demurely, she now turned away, allowing him to unclasp her bra and peel it from her shoulders. Initially, as she turned back towards him, she modestly covered herself with her arms and smiled like an innocent virgin. But as she turned further to face him, she unfolded her arms and dropped them to her sides, revealing her full and firm breasts, with their very prominent and erect nipples, outlined with lipstick. Finally, he released the tiny red thong to reveal her sex. He was about to remark on her shaven state, when she silenced him again. He responded by kissing her tenderly just above that most sensitive and sexual of all places and then he trailed the kisses up her body to her mouth as he regained his feet. Her smile wasn't so innocent anymore.

'Come!' Her command was obeyed absolutely and instantly, as she led him by the hand as one would a child, to the shower that was large even by Las Vegan standards.

She controlled the water, allowing it to flow and fountain over and between their faces, bodies and legs, as they squeezed and caressed each other in the soft, warm water. They were running late and getting later, so she turned away his advances and kisses, and signed through the noise of the water, that they should hurry. Grabbing the shampoo, she asked him to bend his head, so that she could wash his beard and thinning hair. She followed by unwrapping a new bar of the sweet-smelling English soap from the hotel, with which she lathered and caressed every square inch of his body, letting the powerful jet of water wash it all away.

It was now her turn to be pampered and he reciprocated fully, before they returned to hugging, squeezing and kissing under the cascade of clear water.

***

They had dried their bodies and hair at an unseemly pace and by eight, he was ready to leave, dressed in a fresh short-sleeved shirt and a pair of lightweight woollen slacks. But, Lucinda was still fixing her hair and make-up, seated at the mirror, with one of the Desert Inn's beige dressing-gowns, wrapped over the red underwear and stockings.

'There! I'm ready.' She announced as she rose from the stool. 'There's just the small problem of what to put on. All I've got is rather a plain skirt and top, as I was expecting to go home to my daughter, not cavort around in a hotel bedroom and then visit a seedy night club.' Her anger was not very real.

'I'm not keeping you, am I? You didn't have anything else planned?'

'No! I nearly always get home late during COMDEX, so I get my mother over from England for Cassie. I already phoned using my mobile.' She was now looking through his wardrobe. 'You haven't got a nice cocktail dress have you?'

He blushed. 'No!'

'Just teasing!' She then walked to the bed and picked up his discarded red-striped shirt, sniffing under the arms in a mock test of both the shirt's and his cleanliness. 'Hilditch and Key of Jermyn Street! Very nice cotton! Good! It looks new.' She had now thrown the dressing-gown to the floor. 'Will it fit me?'

'My pleasure! It was freshly laundered before I left and I've only worn it since I showered and changed this lunchtime. All the dirt and sweat has been gathered here in Vegas.' He searched on the bed and retrieved his gold and emerald cuff-links. 'I'm afraid the stones clash with your hair, but you'll need these!'

No-one could say, that the shirt was a perfect or even a modest fit, worn as a mini dress reaching to mid-thigh, as the shoulders were too large and the slits at either side, showed quite a lot of bare tanned flesh above the tops of her stockings. But as something to wear for a night-out in Las Vegas it was adequate, if not sensational on her. More so, after she fitted the links to the double cuffs, added her own choker and earrings and undid a few buttons to reveal more of her cleavage. 'I think it really needs shoulder pads. And have you got a belt?' She indicated the shortcomings by pulling and clasping the shirt, as she stood checking herself in the mirror. 'You can see the bra straps. Do you think I should remove it?'

'I'm afraid it's no to the shoulder pads and the belt. But yes on the bra.' She scowled coquetishly and lifting her makeshift dress, complied with his thoughts. As she smoothed the shirt back down, he thought back to his youth. 'You remind me of an old shirt advert, from probably before you were born, which was captioned something like, Looks even better on a man.'

Copyright 1998 by Ewart Higgins