Bleeding Hearts Pt. 01

AUTHOR'S NOTE - I've not posted in way too long a time. I've been busy writing and marketing my books. For those of you who are new to my work, I am published on Amazon under my pen name, Cara Basker.

I've not forgotten the readers who choose to follow me here. This is for you. I plan a two part, maybe three, posting here of what are the opening chapters of my soon to be published fourth book in the Helena's Family series. New readers need not have read the other stories in the series nor the books that grew from them to appreciate this part of the tale. I hope you will be enticed to read them. I'm pleased and proud to say they are well received. SPOILER ALERT FOR NEW READERS - I recommend that you skip the next paragraph and go directly to the story.

Many readers have asked for more background on Queen Helena. I've decided that the best way to provide that is as a part of telling the story of how Helena and Diana met and decided to be mates. It seemed natural to me that Helena would share details of her past with her new partner. All of my books are romance novels. That the main characters are Vampires simply adds an element of excitement and fantasy that having them be accountants, fashion models, homemakers or other human pursuits lacks. The inevitable conflicts my stories engage arise in later chapters as Helena tells Diana her history.

DIANA

Italy, 1980

God, I love skiing. The speed. Negotiating uneven terrain. Moguls. I live for moguls. I've skied pretty much everywhere in Europe, but my favorite has to be Sauze d'Olux. The slopes are technically challenging. The night life is abundant and more affordable than Cortina d'Ampezzo, for example. Even better, it attracts a large number of British skiers. My Italian is good. It has to be since I'm a senior professor at one of the finest girl's schools in Italy. My German is passable. My French downright embarrassing. I haven't conquered the whole nasal, informal manner. I blame it on not being a smoker.

Sauze affords me the opportunity to meet and socialize with people who speak my native language and who share my formative culture. Tonight I have a date with a beautiful financial executive. If she socializes as well as she skis, I might get to practice my other tongue skills.

I need to get moving. I've obsessed for an hour about what to wear. She apparently thought me sufficiently appealing in my skiwear that she asked me to dinner. I want to show her the full package. Dress or slacks and blouse? Dress, I think. Easier to lose if the occasion presents. Plus, my legs are my best feature. I wear my dresses short enough to show them off, cold weather notwithstanding. Stockings and heels are my secret weapon. At a shade over 180 cm, my legs are fully half that. At 45 years old, I'm pretty proud of my figure. No one thinks their face pretty enough, but I receive a lot of compliments so I suppose I shouldn't be too hard on myself.

When I got to the Ristorante Ciao Paise, she was already seated. I'm always punctual which means she was either eager or one of those annoying early people. If you look like her, you can carry it off I suppose. I would guess her height at around 160 cm, maybe slightly more. Dirty blonde hair in a professional bob and hazel eyes. Her smile was brilliant, her teeth more white than I normally expect from a Brit. She stood as I approached. I hugged her and kissed both cheeks. We're in Italy after all.

"Diana," she said brightly. "I'm impressed. You clean up extremely well. I love that dress on you."

If I'm honest, I had to agree with her. My thick dark hair caressed my shoulders as it framed my face, highlighting my brown eyes. I look more like a light-skinned Italian damsel than my British roots. "You've bested me in the cleaning up department if you don't mind my saying," I responded. "Have you been here long?"

"Long enough to order wine," she said with a wink as she handed me a glass. She raised hers in a toast "to an evening of discovery. Oh, I hope you don't mind, I took the liberty of ordering for us. The chef's special is a seafood pasta the server advised should not be missed. It seems the chef only makes it a few nights a year. Something about tides and fish having to be just so."

"Why Carolyn, if I didn't know better, I would think you're trying to seduce me."

"And if I were?"

'I would say you're off to a good start."

"Is that a yes, already?" She laughed.

"It isn't. It also isn't a no. More of a positive-leaning maybe. I'm famished. A good meal, some good wine, this one is excellent by the way, and some relaxing conversation will greatly increase the chance of success."

"Good answer. shall we begin with the whole personal resume' part of the conversation?"

"Seems like a place to start. Do you want to or should I?"

"I've risked overstepping by ordering for you. I confess I was eager for this evening, for this night, hopefully. I don't want to control the show more than I have already. You choose."

"Fine," I said. 'You already know I'm a professor at a girl's school and that I was born and educated in England."

"Where in England?"

"Where which? Born or educated?"

"Both?"

"Born in Chelsea. My folks were working class. Dad was a welder. Mum worked part-time in a flower shop. The fact that I was an only child made it easy for her to do that while I was in school. I was a bit of an over-achiever and won a scholarship to Cambridge. I graduated top of my class which gave me access to a wide array of well paying teaching positions."

"With all the good schools in England, how is it you ended up in Italy?"

"Circumstance. Isn't that the case for most people? I taught for a bit in England. I tried several schools. At the last one, the headmaster had a contact who knew of a vacancy at the school where I now teach. I like the school. The staff are well-respected, a pleasure to work with. And, I love skiing. Taking this position met both my professional and recreational needs."

"Watching you ski, I would think there is some Scandinavian blood in your family tree. You're an excellent technical skier. You have some of the best form of anyone I've skied with. I'm not talking just about skiing. You're a pleasure to watch."

"You're no novice yourself. You managed to keep up, for the most part. I like your form as well."

"Years of lessons, plus yoga and pilates. I'm much better at tennis. I wouldn't have kept pace even if I could. I preferred the view," she said with a laugh.

"Flirt. you're incorrigible."

"Hey, I know what I like."

Just then our meal arrived. She ordered a second bottle of wine and we spent the next few moments savoring the culinary creation.

"Your turn," I said after we had given proper respect to the chef's efforts and began to slow our eating.

"I'm from London. Dad is in finance. Mum is a socialite parent. We weren't exactly posh, but we weren't middle class either. I did my University work in the States. I graduated from Princeton then went straight into banking and finance. I love it. It's my calling. I didn't need to look outside England for work. It was assumed I would join Dad's firm. I started at an entry-level position and have quickly worked my way up to a step below partner. That will come in due time. I've a brother who is a barrister and a sister married to a surgeon. She followed in Mum's footsteps."

"No marriage, long term relationship?"

"Who has the time? Sure, many of my peers marry. They're mostly men. Those marriages tend to be performative bonds rather than romance. You know, nice house, expensive cars, beautiful wives. All part of the image. I want more than that. Playing at being married takes more energy than I choose to devote. I suppose, someday I might find someone. What about you?"

"Mum and Dad passed two years back."

"Oh, I'm so sorry."

"Thanks. You needn't be. I'm healed. I only mention it because they hoped for grandchildren. That ship sailed long ago. I had a string of not overly serious relationships. There was one bloke. Mum thought the grandchildren thing might happen. I tried for her sake, but in the end, he and I, mostly me, decided it wasn't the right fit. I suppose I would marry if the right person happened along. I don't know how many opportunities I have left. I've not abandoned hope but I'm beginning to doubt that the right he or she exists."

"You're bisexual?"

"I am. What about you?"

"I prefer women if I'm honest. That's a problem and part of why I'm still single. In my profession, a lesbian relationship would be professional suicide. I've had people tell me, including Mum, that love is more important than status and money. Easy for her to say. She has always had both."

"Except here you are with me. You've suggested we spend the night together. Isn't that a risk for you?"

"It's not a problem unless we're caught in public in an intimate embrace or someone finds us in bed together. I've long since mastered the art of one night encounters and vacation dalliances. I was in a long-term, secret romance for almost two years. She ended it when I couldn't commit and just come out. I sometimes hope for more. But, shielding myself has become habit."

"How long are you here?" I asked.

"The rest of the week. And you?"

"Same," I said.

'Look, we're neither of us young and naive. Fair warning. I'm not very coy. I hate wasting time. It's too important to me. So, I'll be direct. I would love for this evening to end with me in your arms. I don't know if that means just tonight or all week. If you're of a similar mind, I propose we see how the night goes and figure out tomorrow over coffee in the morning?"

"I'm of a similar mind," I said with a smile. "I do have a question."

"Which is?"

'Yours or mine."

"Definitely mine. The firm spared no expense for a lovely suite and if I need to be reached, it would make a better appearance if I'm by my phone. Does that suit?"

"Yours it is. You ordered, let me pay."

"Nonsense. Some very rich clients want us to spend their money. The firm demands to see their expense account well used. Most of my social engagements result in increased business. This one is simply pleasure. Or, at least I hope it will be."

"If you insist."

"I do," she laughed.

"Allow me to hire a car. Now would be a good time, don't you think? Well, right after this last swallow of wine."

"Done," she said as she emptied her glass as well.

* * * * *

Based on her earlier comments, I decided it best for appearances sake not to kiss her or touch her during the cab ride. That took remarkable restraint. Once in her suite, the facade crumbled. No sooner had the door closed behind us than she had me pinned to the wall kissing me passionately. "Please," she said, "no more talking. Fuck me."

I started to tell her that would require her to remove at least some of her clothing but she was already tugging at her blouse and slacks. I stood with one hand on my hip, looking as relaxed as I could and watched her unveiling. It was not smooth or sultry. She had a goal. Get naked. I barely had time to compliment her body before she had me back in her grasp in a deep kiss while her hand searched under my dress. Her tongue probed my mouth as her hand caressed my sex until she found the opening she sought and slipped a finger inside. She was rewarded with a deep moan.

That was all it took to end my passiveness. I managed to break our kiss and pull my dress over my head. I don't usually wear a bra, so that left me in panties and stockings. She began kissing down my body, her lips and tongue moving from my neck to my shoulders until they slid over one breast and she captured my nipple. My gasp told her she had found one of my vulnerabilities. I have hyper-sensitive nipples. I've managed more than one orgasm just from nipple play. Without breaking contact, I was able to guide her to the bed where we somehow made it to a prone position without stumbling. She was quick to take control and attacked my other breast while I slipped out of my panties.

It was clear that despite her plea for me to fuck her, it was I who was going to be ravished. I relaxed and let her take charge. I'm not normally submissive, nor particularly dominant. I'm flexible and enjoy both roles in sexual encounters. I knew her time would come soon enough so I abandoned myself to the pleasure.

She continued her journey downward, caressing and kissing my stomach, even dipping her tongue into my navel. Her touch was insistent but also very gentle. Her kisses light but impactful. When she made it to my hips, kissing each in turn, I braced myself for the inevitable onslaught on my most sensitive region. I wasn't disappointed. Her tongue parted my lips and played over every inch, licking, probing, teasing. Her tongue teased my clit as her finger continued to explore my folds. She pulled her finger out so her hands could capture my breasts and tweak and roll my nipples. My breathing came in short gasps accentuated by an occasional grunt or moan.

This was not lovemaking. It was pure passion. I held her head in place with one hand. Her tongue alternated between my clit and pushing into me. My other hand covered her hand on my breast. Not surprisingly, I didn't last long before my hips began rising and falling and my stomach muscles and internal muscles began a steady, urgent rolling until the wave crashed over me. I let out a long, guttural moan followed by a high-pitched squeal as my orgasm overwhelmed my senses.

She had the good sense to back off and ease her ministrations as my orgasm peaked and began to ebb. She stayed in place, gently teasing small gasps and tremors until I sagged back into the bed, spent. She looked up at me from her position, smiled a Cheshire Cat grin and whispered her joy at my response and her pride in her effort. She slid up the bed and kissed me. The taste of my own sex on the lips of another woman is a powerful aphrodisiac.

"That was amazing," I managed to say, may voice barely audible. "I'm going to need a minute."

"Take the time you need," she said softly, her hands gently caressing my belly, hips and breasts. "I still want you to fuck me, in case you missed that part earlier."

"That is GOING to happen. I kissed her gently a few minutes then rolled her onto her back. My hands began to wander over her body, teasing, touching, exploring. Turns out we share a nipple sensitivity. Not that unusual. Most women I've been with do as do most men, though few, in my experience, are patient and relaxed enough to receive that pleasure.

My kisses became more insistent as did my stroking and probing. I followed her blueprint and kissed down her body to her center. My tongue played the same games hers had on my most sensitive areas with a similar result. One big difference. When her orgasm hit, her thighs shook like she had been hit with an electric current and she screamed. When she calmed down and I had teased her through her orgasm and afterglow, I crawled up into her arms and kissed her gently.

"Fuck, that was good. You are. You are. Well, you know. That was way better than I had expected. We're not leaving this bed all week."

"That might be a bit of a stretch," I laughed. "You're pretty damn good yourself. That's for sure. I'm well fed, sated and now I need sleep. The wine and the lovemaking have me completely knackered."

"I'm pretty wiped out myself. Before we both drift off, thank you for a wonderful evening."

"And you," I said softly already half asleep.

* * * * *

I woke the next morning to find her sitting on the sofa, naked, with her legs crossed and the phone and a newspaper in her lap. She smiled and said "Good morning. I trust you slept well."

"I did. How long have you been awake?"

"Half an hour, give or take. Just looking at financials and checking in with the office. Fortunately, nothing I need to do at the moment. How do you feel about breakfast?"

"Coffee, juice and pastry for me."

"Great. I'll call for room service."

I took a quick shower as we waited for breakfast. It arrived just as I was dressed. She had donned a robe and ushered the staff person in with his tray.

"We said last night we would decide what to do about today in the morning. Here we are. What are you thinking?"

"I'm thinking you're smart, accomplished, beautiful and a great lover. I would like this to be more than a one-off," I said, a soft hopeful smile on my face.

"Your analysis is spot on," she laughed. "I'm all those things. As are you. I don't want this to be a one-off either. Why don't you give up your room and stay here the balance of the week? Save you some money."

"As tempting as that sounds, it wouldn't save me any money since the trip was paid in advance to get the best rates. Besides, when you woke up this morning, rather than staying in bed and cuddling, you checked with your office and went straight to work. I assume that's a morning ritual even on vacation. It seems reasonable that you have some time alone."

"I'm sorry I didn't mean to offend. You're right. I'm a creature of habit. I can never relax until I've cleared my mind that I'm not needed at the office."

"Oh, don't apologize. I'm not the least bit offended. I get it. Your career is a major part of who you are. You made that clear. I would love to monopolize as much of your time as I can this week. I also have a need for some time alone. I brought some exam papers to pore over and some lecture notes to finalize. I propose that I head back to mine for a bit and we meet in a couple of hours on the slope. Then, if you don't break something important on the mountain, we can have dinner together. This bed is pretty comfortable. I would not object to spending tonight in it."

"You ARE a find. Thank you for understanding. I absolutely love your plan. How does 1400 sound for skiing?

"Perfect. We can grab a quick bite at the chalet."

She stood, kissed me, and reached under my dress to cup my sex. "I want more of this."

"That's a good thing, because this wants more of you."

The week went by too quickly. It was one of the best weeks I can remember. Carolyn and I spent most waking hours together, skiing, shopping, going to the movie theater, and live music venues. Nights were full of passion. We learned about each other in the most intimate detail. The orgasms were frequent and powerful. The final night we lay together lightly caressing and kissing. Neither of us wanted to take on the topic of tomorrow but we knew we must.

"Carolyn, what time do you leave tomorrow?" I asked.

"I need to head to the airport around 10. What about you?"

"I leave a couple hours after that. I wish we didn't have to go."

"Do you love me?" she asked hesitantly.

"Wow, I don't know how to answer that. I didn't expect that question. There's been so much passion and energy between us. How is that not love?"

She practically purred as she said, "that was the answer I was hoping for. I feel the same. That's a problem as I see it."

"Because of your career, right?"

"Yeah. Because of that. I have to go back. When I do, I'll be in full executive mode with all its demands and expectations. Not having a female partner is one of them."

"Carolyn, I'm not asking you to give up who you are. I'm not asking for anything. I just don't want this feeling to end. It's been too long since I've been in this situation."

"Diana, I don't want this to be our last time together. I would like us to get together again after this week. Can we do that?"

"I travel to London every few months and I have a bit of mad money that I can use to fly somewhere for us to meet."

"I would like that. I don't know what the distance will do to us, but I would like to believe the door is open. You realize there will be limitations. We can't be nearly so open in London as we have been here. Our meetings will have to be somewhat secretive. How do you feel about that?"

"I understand, I think. I just know that I'm not ready for this to be goodbye. I won't lie. It's unlikely I can live in a clandestine relationship over long, but I'm willing to try it to see. You're worth the emotional risk."

"It's sorted then. I propose we meet next month. What about the last weekend? Any preference where?"

"How do you feel about Amsterdam?" I asked.

"I love it. The museums and nightlife are amazing. It's also one of the best places to not stand out in a crowd. Our relationship is much more tame than others we will likely encounter there. It's a date." Her smile was huge. "I can take care of the details. The hotel is my treat as are the meals. I would pay for your flight but that would raise questions from our payroll people."

"I'm not comfortable with you paying for everything. I don't want to be a kept woman or feel like your mistress."

"I'm not paying. The firm is. You could never be my or anyone's mistress. Though the idea of you in a leather corset with thigh high boots and a whip is not a bad image."

We both laughed at that. Finally, I kissed her and said, "can I sleep here tonight? I'll get out of your hair in time that you won't miss your flight?"

"Not only can you, I'd be crushed if you didn't. Leaving you will be difficult as it is. I can't do it tonight."

Carolyn called three days later. She had made arrangements for our trip to Amsterdam. We talked by phone every couple of days. When the big day arrived, we were excited to see one another again. We made love but it wasn't quite the same. It still had the sense of urgency. It had been weeks after all. But, the closeness was not what it was that week in Sauze. We both said we loved one another but I didn't feel it as deeply and I could tell she didn't either.

We set a date for the following month in London. This time the phone calls came further apart. When I got to London, she seemed much more concerned about what we did, where we went and that we might be seen. I left London without a specific date for another meeting. After that, the phone calls came further apart and the conversation seemed more like two friends catching up than two lovers considering how and whether to make a life together. It hurt.

I wasn't in love with her, but I had hoped for more. I realized that Carolyn loved her life and career more than she would ever love me. I wrote her a long letter. She called. We talked for hours and finally agreed we worked best as friends and promised to see one another from time to time. I knew we wouldn't.

Out Of The Blue

After a few weeks of feeling sorry for myself and crying, I decided to move on with my life. After all, it wasn't so bad. I had my friends, basically work colleagues, the students in my classes. I told myself that it was still possible to find the one, but I wasn't confident. I had a couple of dates. They didn't go beyond dinner or a day at the local park. No romance. No kissing. Definitely no sex.

One of my friends from school tried to fix me up with her cousin. She was nice. Pretty. A lot of fun. We went on a boating date out of Genoa. No spark though. Fully six months after my week with Carolyn, two of my friends got tickets to see a play. A new play, La Vera Stories de Piero d'Angers, was being presented at the Teatro Della Posse in Genoa. It was a comedy though that word means different things in the Italian theater scene. I agreed to go. It felt nice to dress up for a change.

We arrived about 20 minutes before curtain to find we had seats with a perfect view of the stage. They should for what they cost. The seat next to me on the aisle was empty. I reasoned that there was little chance a single person would be at the play in such a premium seat so I could spread out a little. Plus, I wouldn't be bothered having to interact with some stranger I might find an unappealing seat mate.

A few minutes before curtain, a shadow crossed my vision. It turned out there was a single ticket holder who owned that seat. My initial disappointment was quickly replaced by a sense of awe. There stood perhaps the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. Tall, exquisite figure, piercing green eyes, shoulder length chestnut hair and a face that defied comparison to any other image of beauty. I almost forgot to breathe for a moment. I had to shake my head to realize she was speaking to me.

"Good evening. I apologize for arriving so close to curtain. I believe this is my seat. Am I correct?" Her Italian was impeccable. She held out her ticket and I compared it to mine. I was so taken aback that I answered her in English when I confirmed the seat beside me was hers. She sat gracefully, thanking me and smiled the brightest smile I had ever received. Her eyes were captivating. I could swear they seemed to glow. She settled in just as the orchestra began the overture. All through the first act, I kept stealing glances at her, hoping she wouldn't notice. I was acting like a teenager in the presence of a matinee idol.

When the first act curtain fell, she was gone. I went to the lobby. I needed wine. That woman was beauty brought to life. As I was standing sipping my wine, she suddenly appeared at my side. I couldn't stop myself. I said, "I can't believe my good fortune to be seated next to the most beautiful woman in the theater." I had the good sense to speak in Italian this time. I expected her to walk away.

To my surprise, she answered me in English. "I was about to say the same thing about you. My name is Helena."

"I'm Diana,", I replied. "If you would rather we converse in Italian, we can. Allow me to say the name Helena fits you. I get this sudden image of a thousand ships."

She laughed gently. "I assume English is your native language. As for your ships comment, it's interesting you should say that. I was actually named for Helen of Troy. It seemed a bit boastful to me to compare myself to such an historical beauty, so I opted for Helena. Thank you for the compliment. I gather Genoa is not your home."

"It is and it isn't. I'm a professor at a girls school nearby. I'm originally from England."

"How delightful. Are you enjoying the play?"

"I am. I teach creative writing so the dialogue is interesting. I'm sufficiently fluent in Italian, so I'm able to follow. What's your take?"

"I find it amusing where the playwright intended it to be. I'm much more impressed with my seat mate than with the acting. Not a comment on the play. Rather, a compliment to you."

The house lights dimmed calling us back to our seats. She walked me back as if we were old friends. I introduced her to my companions. When she looked away, they gave me a well done sign. Not like I had accomplished anything more than meeting the person sitting next to me.

When the final curtain fell, Helena escorted me to the lobby. She said, "it occurs to me that the two most beautiful women here ought to have dinner."

"I would like that," I said with a smile, somehow managing to appear and sound like it was a perfectly normal request I got all the time. She asked for my number. I watched her leave and get into a limousine. Damn. Beautiful AND wealthy? I knew I was completely out of my depth.

Helena called two nights later and we made arrangements to meet for dinner. She said she would pick me up at mine. At the appointed time, a limo pulled up to my door. Helena got out to greet me. "I thought we might dine at my place tonight. My chef suggested a meal no restaurant in Genoa can match. If you think me too forward, we can go somewhere else. I promise to be a lady and not impose on you. You can return here whenever you choose."

"I did sort of get dressed up for a night out. But, I fear I'm outclassed simply by your limo. It is YOUR limo, right?"

"It is," she said with a smile and wink.

"This chance meeting of ours is completely whimsical. Dining at your house is not even the maddest part. I gratefully accept. This way, I can interrogate you without worrying about bystanders," I said jokingly.

"My thoughts exactly," she replied. She was not joking.

The drive to her house found us engaged in simple conversation, mostly about the play and our meeting. All conversation stopped when we arrived. It was not at all what I expected. It was an ultra-modern architectural masterpiece built into the hillside. Almost a fortress, which despite the glass facade, appeared impregnable. It screamed wealth.

When we got to the front door, it opened revealing a neatly dressed man. "Welcome home, my Lady, he said in perfect Italian. She introduced me and he welcomed me as well.

"Please take Diana's purse and wrap. Do you know when dinner will be ready?"

"Yes, my Lady. The chef says 40 minutes. She has arranged a light snack in the library and decanted a bottle of wine."

"Thank you. Please tell her that suits perfectly." She took my hand and led me through a hallway. "Allow me to give you a quick tour." I felt like I had walked into the pages of the most prestigious home magazine. The furnishings were exquisite. There was abundant artwork and sculpture, all of which seemed old. I doubted any were prints or replicas. Each piece was likely more valuable than my entire cottage. When we arrived at the library, she handed me a glass of wine, took one for herself and offered a toast. "To beauty. May it never fade." The wine was as pleasant to my tastebuds as her house was to the eye.

As we finished our toast, we were notified that dinner was soon served. "Rather than sit at the huge dining room table, why don't we eat in here?" Helena suggested. "A bit more intimate, I think."

I agreed, which prompted a flurry of activity. Several staff members quickly and efficiently erected a small table, richly appointed with linens, silver and china. As we took our seats, a stout woman entered with a young woman and young man in tow bearing trays filled with food. Helena introduced the woman as, Gianna, her chef, and introduced the two kitchen staff with her. Gianna made sure our plates were filled with food that looked and smelled amazing. The staff withdrew with Helena's thanks and left us to enjoy their efforts.

It surprised me that Helena took the trouble to introduce each staff member. She seemed to have a genuine relationship with each, a bit warmer with Gianna, who Helena said had been with her for a number of years. My first thought was of an old-world upbringing and grace, unusual in the newly rich. When she began to laugh, I realized I had said that part out loud.

"I am so sorry. I meant no offense," I said, my face flushed in embarrasement.

"Ther's nothing wrong with what you said," she replied in a gentle tone. "It's something I hear often. I consider it a compliment. I much prefer honesty, even whrn it is unintentionally expressed."

As we ate, the conversation turned, as could be expected, to personal history and present activities. For my part, that portion of the conversation went much as it did at my first dinner with Carolyn. I couldn't look away from Helena's eyes. They were definitely glowing. I wasn't exactly mesmerized but I felt something. More of an overwhelming sense of calm coupled with a desire to share more than I otherwise would.

"Well, I've learned much about you," said Helena. "I assume you're curious about your dinner companion."

It was like a cloud had lifted. I blinked several times and my mind suddenly felt sharper. "Oh, you must be bored to tears. I'm sorry this has been such a one-way conversation. I feel I've been a bad guest."

"Not at all," she laughed lightly. "Your life interests me. I find myself wanting to know more about you than anyone I've met in a rather long time. I'm the one who has been asking the questions. You've been a perfect guest. Now. I insist that you turn the tables. Ask away."

I didn't know where to begin. I had so many questions. "I suppose the most pressing question is why are you single? I assume you are or I wouldn't be here telling you my life story."

"I am indeed single. I've not always been so. I had a partner who passed away a while ago. It has taken me until now to feel like there was anyone I wanted to know well enough to consider spending the time and energy."

"I'm so sorry for your loss."

"Thank you. I appreciate that. Did you miss the last part of my statement?"

"No, I didn't miss it. I'm struggling to understand it. What exactly are you saying?"

"I'm saying that I find you extremely comely. Your face and figure are exquisite. Our conversation has been enjoyable. I'm not suggesting we're engaged in anything more than getting to know one another. I'm also not ruling out any possibilities following this very pleasant evening of companionship."

"Ok," I nodded. "In that case, I'll risk the questions I've been stifling since we met. You aren't my first encounter with wealthy individuals. Most have wanted more from me than you are suggesting. I'm trying to figure out if you're royalty or simply a member of some wealthy family. I would have expected to see at least a trace of someone of your obvious beauty and status in a newspaper or tabloid."

She laughed a delightful, but full-throated sound. "Right for the jugular, I see. Who is this rich woman? I'm sure the unspoken part of that question goes something like 'and why does she want to spend time with a nobody like me'. I've already answered the unspoken part. The first part is far more complicated. I'm from an extremely wealthy family. Our wealth comes primarily from investments and a wide variety of businesses we own."

"Would I know the names of your businesses?"

"Some. I won't go into their listing. I highly doubt that most of their shareholders, executives and directors even know who we are or that we exist. We value our privacy above all else. We're quite good at keeping our names and faces out of the spotlight."

"Makes sense. I imagine that's hard to do. I mean, look at this place. Anyone approaching it would be insanely curious and would want a glimpse inside."

"True. But, unless invited, which is a rarity, they would not get close enough to get the view you did. I have quite an elaborate security system and a well-trained, loyal staff."

"The few financial articles I occasionally read list the richest men in the world. I assume one of those is your Father?"

"You shouldn't assume. The truth is I'm the head of this family. Those men of whom you speak do not approach the level of wealth I and my family have attained."

"You inherited your wealth then? And, now you run things?"

"No. I've created my wealth myself."

I sat there a moment stunned. "Helena. This is 1980. I've never heard of a woman who can claim what you just did. Sure, there are women heads of state and royalty, but none like you in the corporate world. I can't imagine the men who control the financial levers welcoming you."

She smiled. "Very astute. They don't. The few I've met usually want to know me in the bedroom, not the boardroom. My family is quite close. I tend to spend my time with them rather than socialize. Tonight is a rare exception. I'm a bit of a recluse."

"Ok, so you're a self-made, multi-millionaire executive. Your English is excellent. Your Italian sounds natural. I suspect you haven't always lived here."

"I wasn't born here. I'm originally from Eastern Europe. I've lived all over. Paris, Switzerland, Germany among other places. I own houses in several countries and move about between them. My family is spread out across several continents. Having interests in so many places means I must be fluent in a number of languages. I try to speak with individuals in their native language. It's a bit of a game I play with myself to see if I can do it. My family prides itself on its members' ability to be fluent in several languages."

The conversation moved to discussing different places she had lived and places I had visited. After a time, Helena said, "This evening has been a delight. I think we should break here and return you to your home before I say or do something that I will probably not regret. If you will recall, I did promise to be a Lady this evening."

"I do. Thank you for that. I too have had a wonderful time."

"Do you mind I If ride back with you to your home? We can chat more about travel if you're inclined."

"I should like that," I said.

When we got to my house, her chauffeur quickly opened her door. She then opened mine, offered her hand and walked me to the cottage. "Do you like opera?" she asked.

"Very much," I said with a smile.

I have a private box at the Teatro Communale d'ell Opera. Sunday evening they are showing Gianni Schicci, showcasing the young soprano Daniella Dessi. Do you know her work?"

"I do. She's amazing. Pretty. Such beautiful big brown eyes."

"You realize you have beautiful big brown eyes, right?"

I blushed.

"Would you like to accompany me?"

"That sounds lovely. Thank you."

"Is it British custom to say thank you to someone who asks you on a date?" She said with a slight chuckle.

"It's not. Is that what this was, a date?"

"Most assuredly," she said. She held my hands, smiled and me and said, "You've not answered.

"I accept then."

With that, she turned, got in her limo and drove off. I closed my door behind me and leaned against it for a few moments. "This one could be trouble, Diana," I thought. I allowed a thread of fear to creep in. A hope that her need for privacy didn't doom a possible future as it had with Carolyn.

Getting To Know. You

Helena's private box at the theater was as well furnished as her home. It even had its own private entrance and refreshment service. We enjoyed a lovely wine as we watched and listened. Daniella was in exceptionally strong voice that night. We stayed in the box a bit after the curtain fell finishing our wine and talking about the performance. I was surprised when there was a knock at the door. Helena bid the person enter and in walked Daniella. I couldn't believe my luck. I was talking with Daniella Dessi. Clearly, not the average night out.

On the ride home, Helena informed me that Daniella was a bit of a protege'. She had been introduced to Helena years ago before she was a star. Helena had financed her lessons and gotten her an audience with a top agent who worked for a company that ultimately was owned by Helena's family. Meeting Daniella was surprisingly NOT the highlight of the evening. Having my hand held during the ride would have been until her chauffeur opened my door to help me exit. It was then she leaned into me, placed her hand behind my head and drew me in for a firm but tender kiss.

The next day she called and asked me to go with her to an art showing two evenings hence followed by a light supper. She said there was an artist she had been sponsoring who was having a showing of her work. We entered through a side door. It turned out that it was a private showing just for her. The artist was not present. The gallery manager walked us through the exhibit as she explained the artist's comments to her about each piece. Helena purchased two pieces, one for her house she said and one for mine.

"Helena, I couldn't. This is is beautiful but, I could never afford something like that. Thank you, but I can't."

"Why not? Because I'm buying it? Understand this about me. I don't see status or class. I want to give you a gift because it makes me feel good to do so. You said you liked the piece when you first saw it. Someone has to own it. Why shouldn't that someone be you? Please accept it for what it is, a memory of this evening, nothing more."

"In that case, thank you. It's beautiful."

"Beauty merits beauty. Now, shall we dine?"

This time the library was already set up for our intimate meal. It was a bit difficult to concentrate with her foot rubbing up and down my calf. On the ride home there was kissing. Neither of us had yet made an overt attempt at seduction. I was unsure what to think about that, but I liked not having the pressure. When we arrived at mine, she walked me to the door while her chauffeur took my gift inside then returned to stand beside the limo.

"What shall we do next?" she asked with a teasing smile.

"Do you mean now? Because I'm tempted to ask you to come in for however many hours it takes to get to know you," I whispered.

"That sounds appealing. I like you, Diana. As you said on our first date. I'm a bit more old-world in my thinking. I would prefer to defer for now."

"I didn't mean to offend you. Waiting makes a certain amount of sense. I wanted you to know the idea had crossed my mind. If you want, I would love another date. You scare me, though."

"I'm not offended. I AM intrigued now. Why do I scare you?"

"I need to tell you about my last relationship, Helena. About six months ago, I almost fell for a financial executive from London who insisted our activities not be public. She feared her career would suffer if certain people learned of her desire to be with a woman. She was probably right about that. I tried to make it work, but between the secrecy and distance, the feelings faded and we drifted apart. It was painful for me. I've tried dating since. Men and women. No one has interested me until now."

"I'm sorry that happened to you, Diana."

"Thank you. The only reason I'm telling you is because I find myself wanting more with you. Who wouldn't? You're gorgeous. You're wonderful company. You're smart and knowledgeable. But, with the private box at the opera and the private gallery showing. Dinners at yours. I can't help but get flashbacks to her demands for secrecy. It bothered me with her but it doesn't seem to bother me with you and I don't understand why not. I feel there's a definite spark and it's not just because I'm horny. I'm scared that those negative feelings will resurface and I'm not as strong as I would need to be if they did."

Helena grabbed me in a tight hug. She kissed me. Passionately this time. "Diana, I'm so sorry that woman hurt you. I promise you I'm not her. Yes, I'm secretive. It's not because I'm ashamed to be seen with you nor because I worry what any human would think. I'm simply a very private person by nature. When I said I like you, that was not some school girl phrase. It means I trust you and I desire you. I don't, as they say, go out on the town. I'm the opposite of a socialite. It's one reason I don't find myself in the papers.

"I would be proud to be seen with you the few occasions on which I'm in public. You haven't noticed but my limo has been followed each time you've been with me. I have security with me wherever I go. We are practiced at not being noticed."

"Thank you. That helps a lot. I just this instant realize something. It wasn't the secrecy itself that bothered me about her. It was the reason for it. She was scared of what people would think and do. Her thoughts and actions made me feel ashamed. I won't live like that. I choose who I am, not anyone else. Especially not people I don't even know. What you describe is caution. I want to do whatever you feel comfortable doing." Then, I kissed her.

"You've given me a thought. I shall call you tomorrow to discuss it. Until next time." She kissed me again, then turned to leave.

"Helena," I called. She stopped and looked back. "I like you too."

I could hear her laughter and imagined her smile as she got in the limo. As she drove away I watched long enough to notice a car fall in behind.

Two nights later she called for a date. She asked if I would go to a restaurant with her. Of course, I said yes. I fully expected it to be an out of the way place where we would be alone. Instead, when she picked me up she took me to an exclusive restaurant that I would not have been able to afford even if I was able to get a table. We entered through a side door, not exactly public, but not in the middle of all the activity. We were seated in a small quiet area with several other tables around us. She refused a menu and quietly told the server to notify the chef that we had arrived.

We had a meal to remember. It was clear the staff knew they were attending someone more important than their normally high-value clientele. That only seemed to make them act more discretely.

The chef came to each table near us, then to ours. He said his visit to the other tables was so that his visit to ours would not draw undue attention, but our presence was why he had emerged from his kitchen. Helena thanked him and congratulated him on his creation. She asked if he would agree to speak with Gianna about the dish. That seemed to be an extremely high compliment judging from his reaction. After dinner, Helena asked me whether the driver should head for her place or mine.

"Yours. Definitely yours," I said as I kissed her.

If I thought the ground floor of Helena's house was grand, nothing prepared me for the master bedroom. Spacious did not begin to describe it. Furnishings that looked like they could have been from the 17th century with a large bed in the middle of the room. Tapestries on the wall and very heavy curtains. I thought it interesting that all the windows had similarly thick treatments. I would have preferred a light gauzy drape to allow natural light. But, for this house, her choice seemed to fit.

I didn't have a lot of time to savor the ambience of the room. Helena took me in her arms and began kissing me. She was as eager as I was. Her tongue licked my lips and separated them. Mine danced over hers trying to taste her. Her hands were busy with the zipper of my dress. It quickly gave way and dropped to the floor leaving me in a camisole, panties and stockings. She stepped away and stared intently into my eyes. I swore hers were glowing fiercely. I concluded it was just the lighting. She told me to strip. I didn't think nor hesitate. I took everything but my stockings off.

She was busy with her own clothing and was amazingly fast at divesting herself of everything.

She took me in her arms again and led me to the bed lying beside me facing me. Her mouth and hands went immediately to my breasts. She tweaked, licked and even bit down gently on each nipple alternating her kisses. For my part, all I could do was hold onto her back and head running my fingers through her hair. That and moan in pleasure. She lifted her head and looked at me. "You have exquisite breasts. I should have told you. Nipples are my undoing. I love their texture, their reaction to kisses, to touch. The way they go from soft to hard. It's an aphrodisiac for me."

"You didn't hear me complain did you?" I replied. "My weakness is ears and neck. I love being so close to my partner when she moans with pleasure. The vibration adds so much for me. You can spend as much time as you wish on my nipples. They're quite pleased with your efforts."

Helena returned to my breasts. After a short period of time she began to move lower, kissing my abdomen taking tiny nibbles with her teeth but not leaving a mark or actually biting. That was a new experience for me. I never had a lover do that. I had to admit, it was a nice touch. Her kisses soon reached my navel and slid down to my hips. Her hands were not idle. Her fingers found my core and stroked gently, outlining my lips and teasing my clit.

When her fingers entered me, I nearly flew off the bed. I was much hornier than I imagined, or she was much more skilled than I expected. Regardless, my breath was becoming ragged as her hands, lips and tongue worked their magic. When she took me in her mouth, sliding her tongue over my lips and began to probe I knew I wouldn't last. She teased until she felt me begin to shiver and start my orgasm, then she attacked my clit with her tongue. That did it. My orgasm exploded. Every muscle seized. My back arched. I forgot to breathe for a second then I heard a deep grunt turn into a keening squeal and realized it was me. I never wanted her to stop.

I grabbed her head with both hands trying to keep her where she was. She not only knew how to tease an orgasm, but she was exceptional at staying where she should through its peak to the inevitable collapse. It was then she slid up and began showering my face and neck with kisses ending in a deep kiss that seemed like she was trying to inhale my soul.

We lay there. Me taking shallow breaths, her looking at me with a self-satisfied smile. "You weren't exaggerating when you said it's been a while were you?" She whispered.

I could barely respond. "No. I wasn't. I didn't expect to have that powerful an orgasm or for it to be so quick. I'm used to being fucked, by men and by women. I'm not used to being made love to, especially by someone so seemingly dedicated to testing whether my heart would explode with my orgasm. I know. I'm not making sense right now. I'm trying to say that was...... well you could surely tell how that was. That level of response is not normal for me."

"That's quite the compliment. Tell me you're in perfect health and I don't need to worry about your heart giving out. I intend to do more of this."

"I'm fine. It was an expression. A clumsy attempt to tell you how much of an impact your lovemaking made. I've not experienced an orgasm like that ever. I think the topper was all the little nibbling you did."

"Oh, that. It's just something I've picked up over the years. I have to remember not to go too far with it. It's difficult to stop when your partner is as responsive as you are."

"You can do that all you want. You can do everything you did all you want if the result is even half what that was. I don't know that I'm capable of returning the favor with that much success right now. Maybe after a bit."

"Shh, don't speak of it. I had a small orgasm when you did. There's no way you could have felt it with your reaction. I like how you taste. I promise next time you can lead. How does that sound?"

"It sounds terrific. I like that you're thinking of a next time. How about tomorrow?" I said laughing.

"Not tomorrow, I won't be around. But, soon? I'm eager for you to square your debt."

"Just say when. You're welcome to come to mine, by the way."

"Thank you. Would you mind terribly if we kept coming here? Security, you know."

"I understand. Still, it would be nice. I would like you to at least see how lovely the artwork you gave me looks."

"That I can do. I promise my main concern is security, nothing more. I never want you to feel the way that other woman made you feel."

"Oh Helena," I said, tears filling my eyes. "You really are perfect. You're going to make me fall for you and I'm not sure I'm ready for that."

"Since my partner died, you're the first person I've wanted to know beyond a superficial relationship. How about we enjoy each other and let time lead where it will."

"Agreed. It's sorted then," I replied.

"Good. Now, I do have one rule by which I've lived and am not ready to break just yet. I would love for us to fall asleep together, but I'm used to waking alone. Do you mind if we take you home?"

"I was sort of hoping to wake in your arms. But, I won't cause you any discomfort. May I suggest that one of these nights we fall asleep for a bit and have your staff rouse us and take me home?"

"That sounds like the perfect solution. Why wait for some future time? Why not now? I suggest two hours."

"Oh yeah,"I said as I snuggled into her side.

She pressed a button on her bedside phone and left instructions for staff to wake us at the agreed upon time. It was only a couple of hours, but the ability to snuggle and drift off brought a feeling of closeness I didn't realize how much I needed. When I got back to my place, I was surprised that I was able to go back to sleep as soon as I hit my bed. I woke refreshed, sated and eager to see Helena again.