"What's your cover?" I asked her.
"I'm a journalist", she said with a faint smile, as she watched admiringly my features, which she had defined more than once as "fabulous" and "stunning".
I whispered:
"You're amazing as always. Or even better."
We now stayed with our back to the window. Pavel said:
"Guys, what an extraordinary couple you are! Every time I see you together I'm telling myself: here are Paris and Helen reborn."
"We're better," I said. "We exploit our physique, not merely enjoy it, don't we, Helen?"
She covered my mouth with her little hand and gave me a look with a glimpse of sadness.
"Your cover is good", said Pavel. "You want to interview him, about what?"
"Big western capital and the new Russian economy, profits and perspectives. I represent "Life and Money", an important business edition."
"You have an ID and all?"
"My photo has been placed on the site of the edition, with all my personal archive of publications."
"Good. Will you cope by yourself, or would you need his help?" Pavel nodded in my direction.
Somehow the question sounded horribly ambiguous. Lena grinned and said:
"We can start together, I'll do the rest."
Pavel made a gesture of impatience:
"You know what I mean. In the sense of language. I don't encroach on your professional skills."
"She will do everything that's needed," I assured Pavel, with a pang in my heart. "Don't doubt."
We gave a long look to each other like loving spouses before parting for indefinite time.
I had thought a lot about our possible life together like husband and wife. The more I thought about it the more I doubted it. Perhaps we would be fit to live together when we're not fit to live any normal life at all. We're spiritual and emotional cripple; hard as it is, I have to admit it. The flowering age is short, in a few years on Lena's wonderful face would appear first visible wrinkles, as there are already some on my forehead and cheeks, then some more years pass and only our eyes, ever more tired and dull, would remember us our glorious days of heroically merry love. It's sad, but there's no escape. If we quit all our present life and found a sound family with children (they must be fabulously beautiful!), in some profound sense we'll be dead sooner than if we continue our present lavish existence. So we must enjoy our rare moments together like our supreme bless and not ask for more.
"You must have much to talk about alone", Pavel's words are coming to us like from a distance. "Take my key and go to my room. We have got half an hour." My dear friend Pavel, so understanding and kind, and generous. I took the key, thanked him with a nod and looked at Lena. She answered with a slight imperceptible nod of the head. We went away almost running. We knew how it would be, and the knowledge of it made us hurry.
There wasn't any foreplay, only wild ripping off of our clothes on each other. Then, when we were down and naked, and she deeply moaned taking me in, I covered her face with fiery kisses, from her full lips to her tiny ears, to her turgid nipples. She was trembling and boiling. Her coarse breathing which accompanied her powerful sinuous movements of the belly turned me on ever more. I didn't notice how many minutes later there was a mighty cry, we squeezed each other like two boas in the last mortal embrace.
After a minute or two of total exhausted quiet she whispered:
"Next time you will kill me."
"Or you will kill me."
"And perhaps it would be the best exit for us both. I can't imagine it can be better than how it has been now."
I had a vague impression I heard something like that from her the last time we met, but I might have mistaken. Besides, I fully shared her feeling.
We stayed some minutes pressed against each other, giving tender kisses to what happened to be under our lips. The touch of the lips was like recharging the batteries, I felt that in some minutes more I would be ready for a second time, more human and sweet.
But in that moment my cell-phone rang. Happiness can't go on beyond reasonable time, it becomes tiresome. I jumped out of the bed and answered the call.
"Sorry to interrupt your sweet dialogue," said Pavel's voice, without a shade of irony. "They have come back."
"I'll be downstairs in three minutes."
"No need to hurry. Call Mary in five minutes, that'll do."
"Ok."
I gave a look to Lena. She was stunningly gorgeous, with a glowing face and bright shining eyes. She asked:
"Time to go?"
I was already in a businesslike mood:
"Shall I tell him about you or do you handle it on your own?"
"I'll do it myself. If it comes from you it might be suspicious." She began dressing. When she was nearly finished, she moaned:
"Boy, I'm entirely out of shape. It's like having to run another heat after a final. Am I attractive?"
I didn't lie when I said:
"You're fabulous. Did you know that satisfied love gives a woman a particularly exciting look? Do you know what Pushkin said about that look? I don't remember the exact words, but the sense is that he recognizes happy lovers from their eyes, because they bear a languid flame – an immodest sign of pleasures."
She smiled languidly:
"I wish you were right. Inside I'm a total wreck. I hope I'll be ok by tonight."
Did she say it on purpose? I felt uneasy in my heart.
I kissed her on her lips which were already going cold (or, at least, I had that feeling).
When shall we meet like that again?