9 comments/ 39989 views/ 8 favorites Twilight Express Ch. 01-07 By: MelinaReilly Chapter One: Melina The sleeper train from Osaka to Sapporo pulled out of Kanazawa station. Melina returned to her newspaper, content that no new passengers had boarded; she was enjoying the solitude of the near-empty salon car. It had been Melina's idea to take the night sleeper to her next assignment. During her 11 months in Japan, Melina had spent almost all of her time in high-rise offices when she wasn't in a tiny furnished apartment. Since she had a week off before her next assignment, she wanted to relax and finally be a tourist. The Osaka office manager had tried to talk her out of it, explaining that the bullet train would get her to her destination quickly while the sleeper would take 21 hours. But Melina insisted, explaining that she hadn't yet had a chance to see rural Japan - which was true - and that the slower train service would be more enjoyable. "It won't all go by in a blur, like with the shinkansen," she said. And the sleeper trains' names themselves appealed to her in a kitschy way: Cassiopeia. Sunrise Seto. Moonlight Nagara. Dream Nichirin. She was traveling on the Twilight Express, the Osaka-Sapporo service. The Japan Railways brochure had featured photographs of the Twilight Express' interiors, and the rich wood paneling and brass fixtures had reminded her of the Orient Express. Melina was traveling to Sapporo to set up her company's third new in-house research department, a cost-cutting measure that had also proved to provide advisors with more accurate data. She worked for a global investment firm that had expanded into Japan during the mid-1990s during Asia's economic crisis. The VP who had recruited her had described the expansion by paraphrasing Rothschild: "When the streets run with blood, we expand." Although she was the only researcher fluent in Japanese, she was also one of the youngest, not quite 29 years old. She had hardly been able to believe her luck when she was chosen for the overseas assignment. But the reviews from Tokyo were even better than she had hoped. The local staff admired her near-perfect Japanese and her respect for local etiquette as much as her research skills. She wasn't like other foreigners who were appalled that the entire world didn't speak English. After almost a year in Tokyo and Osaka, she was headed north for the third and final department setup. Her assistant Yoko was already there and was setting up the computer servers. Melina picked up her newspaper again, hoping to find a sudoku puzzle or even a New York Times crossword. But suddenly she had company. A tall Japanese executive - well dressed but a bit intimidating - had taken the next table and was looking directly at her. She looked up at him, nodded politely, went back to her newspaper. Chapter Two: Shinichi He looked at his watch. Shinichi's station was just over two hours away, but he was determined to not fall victim to karoshi, death from overwork. He decided to have a drink in the salon car. He turned off his laptop, gathered up his overcoat and briefcase, and made his way through the narrow corridor past the sleeper cars. Since the tourist season was over and it was mid-week, all but one of the sleepers were unoccupied. When he arrived at the salon car, Shinichi could not believe his luck. At first he found it hard to believe that the lone foreigner at the last table was the same one he'd first seen over a month ago. She was dressed in a knee-length skirt and silk blouse, with her dark red hair loose around her shoulders. But she looked up at him, and her clear green eyes confirmed her identity. She half-rose, nodded politely and sat down, tucking her pleated skirt under her thighs carefully. He sat down at the next table, slowly exhaled. Forgetting all sense of decorum, he watched her slowly turn the pages of her newspaper. Shinichi had first seen the red-haired gaijin several weeks ago at a cocktail party in Osaka. The party had been held in the luxury hotel next to his office building. His banker friend Hitoshi Miyahara had invited him earlier in the day after meeting him in the elevator. They were discussing the building's rent increases, plotting how they might minimize their own, when Shinichi first spotted the foreigner. He had watched her from across the room as she politely bowed when introduced, presenting her business card in exchange for others' cards. She had been careful to dress conservatively in a dark blue skirt suit and white blouse. It was soon obvious that although she was young, she was remarkably well versed in local etiquette. She never made foreigners' mistakes like laughing loudly or insisting on shaking hands. As he studied her, he realized that she wasn't a conventional beauty at all. She was fashionably thin but unfashionably pale. Her delicate mouth was not quite even; the lower lip fuller than the upper one. She had only partially succeeded in arranging her thick auburn hair in a loose French twist. But it didn't matter, didn't matter to him at all. He began wondering how he might be introduced. Suddenly she looked directly at him from across the room, as if she had literally felt his gaze upon her. Her clear green eyes studied him for several seconds before she returned to her conversation. Now Shinichi was determined to meet her. He began to think how he could ask Hitoshi to introduce him, as he was fairly sure she worked for his company. Simply walking up to her would be considered rude. But then a junior architect joined them, and it took Shinichi several minutes to escape. Still trying to think of a businesslike lie that would result in an introduction, he looked up, searching for her in the crowd. She was gone. Shinichi excused himself, walked quickly to the front door, looked around the hotel's plaza, searching the crowds of rush hour pedestrians. There was no sign of the foreigner. He stared at the pavement, angry with himself for missing the opportunity. The next day he found himself at his drafting board, unable to concentrate on work. Instead he kept staring out of the window at the sidewalk below, half-hoping he would spot her among the pedestrians. Finally he closed the blinds. During the next weeks, Shinichi kept telling himself that his attraction for the woman was nothing more than curiosity. He had never felt a particular desire for a foreigner. But he continued to think of strategies to find her while working at his drafting board or sitting in meetings. Chapter Three: The Office Fantasy When working late, Shinichi sometimes found himself fantasizing about seducing the young gaijin in the private domain of his office. In his favorite scenario, she would visit his office after receiving a forged note from Hitoshi (the real author being the cunning Shinichi) asking her to visit him after work Friday to offer her professional assistance. He imagined her taking a seat in front of his oak desk, an oversized antique he had brought from England. She was wearing a suit with a shorter skirt than she'd worn at the cocktail party, expensive hosiery that showed off her legs, black Dior heels. "May I ask what I can do for you?" she asked, obviously wondering why an architect would consult a financial researcher. "I'm afraid Mr. Miyahara didn't go into details." "I'm not 100% sure," Shinichi said, leaning back in his leather chair, inspecting his prey. She was fine-boned, smaller than she'd appeared at the party. Her demeanor suggested she hadn't much experience with men. "Hitoshi thinks you might be able to help me set up a better billing system for our larger clients." "It's not my specialty, but I can take a look." There was a knock on Shinichi's office door. His office manager said that she was the last to leave, so she would lock the front door behind her. The foreigner realized that they were alone. She looked at Shinichi, only to realize that he was looking at her in a rather un-businesslike manner. She buttoned up her jacket. Shinichi pulled up his billing system software on his laptop and offered his chair to his visitor. "Here. Sit down and take a look at what we're running. Maybe you'll see some ways we can improve the monthly reports." She moved behind his desk and sat down, dwarfed by his large leather executive's chair. Shinichi stood behind her, watching as she scrolled through the entries and eventually began making notes. He realized she was wearing his favorite perfume. He leaned over the back of the chair to watch her. "You smell delightful," he said. "Is that Miss Dior?" She nodded but said nothing. After looking through the billing reports, she said that the client breakdowns could be more detailed, but that the overall system seemed more than adequate. She rose to go, only to have Shinichi gently push her back down in the chair. Was he simply being polite? If so, it was in a most un-Japanese way. "Hitoshi mentioned you've been putting in a lot of hours. Please join me in a drink. It's Friday, you know. Hopefully you're not having to work tomorrow." She hesitated. She'd been too busy to have lunch, and drinking on an empty stomach could be risky. "I'll have a very small whatever you're having." "I have some single malt from Scotland I'd like you to try," he said as he poured their drinks. "It's called Cardhu -- pricey, but I think it's worth it." She drank a bit too much too quickly as he read through her notes. He had been right, though -- it was an excellent malt. "Thank you so much for coming by. I can see why Hitoshi suggested your taking a look at the system." "You're welcome, sir," she said. He was amused by her formality. "You must let me return the favor somehow. You're looking quite stressed." He reached down from behind the chair and began to massage her shoulders, inwardly celebrating that he was finally touching her, even through layers of clothing. At first she froze, but she eventually leaned back, eyes closed. She had beautiful long eyelashes. Suddenly he stopped. "Thank you for the massage. It was very kind of you," she whispered. She stood to go, but he stepped in front of her. "Take off your jacket, please," he said, politely but firmly. Her eyes widened. She tried to think of a polite way to reject his request, but was stymied by the situation. How could she question her employer's best friend? She slowly pulled off her jacket, laid it on top of her briefcase. Shinichi suddenly picked her up and sat her on his desk, pulling her shirttail out of her skirt, which had ridden halfway up her thighs. She held on to the desk's edge facing him, her expression a mixture of surprise and alarm. She then tried to pull her skirt down with little success. He tilted her face upwards towards his own, one hand under her chin. "You're one of the most enticing young women I've ever had the privilege to meet." She blushed pink, said nothing. "I would have never thought Hitoshi to be a matchmaker," he lied. "He mentioned to me just last week that he thought we might ... well ... get along." Although she was beginning to suspect a plot, she was at a loss as to what to do, especially as she found Shinichi rather attractive. He reached down and unbuttoned the two top buttons of her shirt. Her pale skin felt wonderfully smooth under his rough fingers. He could feel the pulse in her neck beating as quickly as a bird's. Holding her by the hair, he kissed her gently until he felt her begin to respond. It was the signal he'd been waiting for. He was through with talking. He eased her down on her back, moving quickly so she wouldn't have time to resist. She lay still, wide-eyed and confused. The sight of the red-haired gaijin lying across his desk, ready to be sacrificed to his desires, was all the encouragement he needed. Standing in front of her, he pushed her knees apart and positioned himself between them. Realizing she was trapped, she closed her eyes, heart racing. He slid his hands slowly up her thighs, pushing her skirt up inch by inch. He was pleased to discover that wide lace bands held up her stockings. Eventually he felt the warmth of her soft inner thighs, then the thin layer of silk covering her nether regions. He realized she was trembling. He gently touched her through the silk panties, hearing her sharp intake of breath. He began to pull them down. But then he stopped, took a pair of scissors and carefully cut them off instead. As he slowly ran one finger over and then inside her, he felt as if he'd won a coveted prize. Her delicate pubic hair was baby-soft, only slightly darker than the auburn hair that had first drawn him in. Her silky wetness had a just-washed smell, but with enough of the familiar scent he loved. He began rubbing her tiny pink clit with rough fingers, watching her react. Soon she was no longer the reserved young woman of an hour ago. Instead, she was turning into a delectable, cock-hungry bitch in heat, arching her back, hair disheveled. He took his hand away and stood over her, his face above hers. She looked up at him, breathing in shallow gasps, her eyes more black than green. "Do you want me to continue?" She nodded. "Do you want me to fuck you?" She only hesitated a second. "Yes," she stammered. "Will you do anything I ask?" he said. "Y-y-y-es. As long as I know how." He softened, touched her cheek. "Don't worry about that, dear." He helped her off the desk. She stood wavering in front of him, dizzy from the liquor, a far cry from the proper young executive of an hour ago. "On your knees." She slowly sank to the floor in front of him as he sat down in the leather chair. "Do you know what to do?" "I think I know what you want ...". She left the sentence unfinished. "What do you think I want?" he whispered. "Show me." She reached over, fumbled with his trousers, finally freed his pulsing cock. Her touch was wonderfully gentle as she slowly took him into her mouth inch by inch. Shinichi leaned back as she alternately tongued and sucked him, sometimes sliding his length into her throat for a tantalizing few seconds. If she was a novice cocksucker, she was also a gifted one. Although he was sorely tempted to come in her open mouth, the thought of fucking her on his desk was the greater temptation. He returned her to the desk. Holding her legs wide open, he teased her for a long minute, rubbing his cock head against her as she squirmed helplessly. He heard her whimper as he finally began to enter her, watched her expression change as he slid into her inch by inch. It was every bit as erotic as feeling her slick wetness close around him. He began fucking her slowly, increasing his pace until he realized the force of his body was pushing her across the desk and away from him. She hadn't been able to hold on to the desk's edge any longer. "Wrap your legs around my waist, quickly," he whispered. Leaning over, he put her arms around his neck, then lifted her from the desk. She was even lighter than he had imagined. He sat down in the chair, moving her legs apart so her knees were on either side of him. She fit perfectly. Holding her by the hips, he began forcing her down the length of his cock. He unhooked her bra, sucking her already-erect nipples as she rode him, her green eyes looking into his own. She leaned over and kissed him deeply, her red hair a soft curtain as she rode him. "Nobody has ever fucked me like this, ever," she whispered. Shinichi felt his cock harden even more, unable to control his sudden orgasm. He shoved himself deep inside her as he came, his eyes closed, his fingers digging into her slender hips. After weeks of fantasizing, Shinichi decided that he had to meet the foreign temptress, even at the risk of looking temporarily foolish. He called Hitoshi's company and asked for the foreigner, thinking he could bluff his way through any interrogation. But a new receptionist politely told him there were no foreigners currently employed in the Osaka office. He put the phone down slowly, feeling despondent, again angry with himself for postponing his actions. The only option left was to tell Hitoshi the truth and ask about the foreigner's whereabouts. But Shinichi kept postponing his enquiry, not wishing to embarrass his friend. He need not have worried. Three weeks later, he entered the salon car of the Twilight Express and found her sitting there, almost as if she had been patiently waiting for his arrival. Chapter Four: The Salon Car Melina felt the tall man's eyes upon her from the next table and wondered why he wasn't reading a newspaper or manga like any other salaryman. She stared at her own newspaper, stymied by the sudden attention but not wanting to return to her tiny sleeper. He finally spoke. "I'm sorry to stare, miss, but I'm sure I've seen you before." He explained that he had seen her at a cocktail party in Osaka several weeks ago, but had not been introduced to her although her boss Hitoshi was one of his closest friends. She relaxed, thankful he was not some well-dressed madman, and offered to share her table with him. He ordered drinks for them both. Melina studied him as she drank. He was tall, at least 5'10", tanned, probably from the northern region of Japan. He was wearing an expensive suit, not one of the cheap and shiny suits she saw so often. His name was Shinichi Sakakura. She guessed him to be in his early to mid-50s. His scrubbed, rough hands and wide shoulders suggested he was not afraid of manual work: something in his favor. A child of working-class parents, Melina did not care for pampered young executives with baby-soft hands. During the next hour and a half, she learned that he was an architect with an office in Osaka. He was no stranger to the sleeper train as he often took it to his country home; like Melina, he preferred the sleeper's traditional atmosphere to the bullet train. He had spent 18 months studying architecture in England. He had friendly brown eyes with just the right amount of laugh lines. His English was remarkably good, although most of their conversation was in Japanese. During their second drink, Melina suddenly suggested they play poker. Shinichi was visibly surprised when she produced a pack of cards from her handbag and began shuffling like a casino dealer, suggesting they play for moderate stakes. He found himself losing a near-embarrassing amount of money to the canny gaijin during the first 20 minutes. He began to worry that he might be forced to write her a check if his luck didn't change. Shinichi studied the foreigner as she studied her poker hands. He was no less intrigued than when he'd first seen her. She was intelligent and polite, with a dry sense of humor that reminded him of England. She didn't rattle on about herself for hours. And her physical presence did nothing to suppress his seduction fantasies. He began to wonder how he could spend time with her alone. If she continued to Sapporo alone after he departed the train, she would disappear once again, probably for good. It was too depressing to risk. After some thought, he decided to invite her to his country home. He would offer her the use of his spare bedroom, and she could rejoin the train tomorrow night. But she had not flirted with him at all. She was probably just killing time. The train passed a small clearing and he realized his stop was only 20 minutes away. He fell silent, played his next hand badly, and began shuffling the deck mindlessly. Finally Melina asked if she had somehow offended him. Suddenly he decided to tell her the truth. "When I first saw you in Osaka, I couldn't stop looking at you," he said. He told her about his wish to be introduced to her during the party, his disappointment when she suddenly departed. She sat looking at him, unafraid and curious, waiting for him to speak again. Twilight Express Ch. 01-07 "I know this is a great risk, and I beg you not be offended, but I would like to invite you to be my guest at my house tonight," he said. He stumbled on, mentioning the spare room, offering to take her sightseeing, promising to take her straight to Sapporo any time of the day or night if she wished. Suddenly she stopped him in mid-speech. "I accept your invitation. Thank you very much. It's extremely generous." Chapter Five: The Moon Watching Platform As he helped Melina alight from the train, Shinichi felt as if he was in charge of transporting a rare and fragile antique. As usual, his car and driver waited for him outside the station. He exchanged seats with his driver, took him home. Shinichi felt odd driving with Melina in the back seat of the black Lincoln like a taxi fare. Thankfully she agreed and moved to the front seat, knees together like a visiting princess. However, she was quiet during the drive to his house. Her silence worried Shinichi. Was she already regretting her decision? Finally they arrived at the short gravel driveway that led to his house. He hoped its remote location wouldn't frighten her. Carrying her suitcase, he unlocked the door, opened it for her. She stepped inside and removed her shoes. After a short tour, he went to the kitchen to make tea for both of them. As he waited for the water to boil, he watched Melina walk slowly around the main room, stopping to study the first blueprint of the home. She kept both hands behind her back, her right hand gripping her left wrist. It was if she were afraid to touch anything for fear of breaking it. Shinichi's home was furnished with a mixture of traditional and Western furniture. An oversized black leather sofa dominated the main area. It was a plain, L-shaped sofa, but the seating area was as wide as a single bed. Shinichi had figured that since he often fell asleep on the sofa while watching television, he might as well have one that doubled as a bed. After they had finished their tea, Shinichi cleared away the cups and returned to the living room, only to see that Melina was gone. He felt a sudden panic. Had she decided to leave? He checked the front door and saw her shoes parked next to his, her black Tumi suitcase still in the guest bedroom. He finally found her on the back porch. A full moon illuminated the area, making lights unnecessary. Shinichi imagined her as having just landed on the porch a minute before, magically delivered by a kindly goddess in response to years of devout prayers. She turned and smiled at him. "Is this what you call tsukimi, sir? Moon viewing? And is this the harvest moon -- chushu-no-meigetsu?" She looked a little mischievous. "I understood that the first moon-viewing party was held in the year 909, when Kyoto was still the capital of Japan." Shinichi bowed deeply to her. "I bow to your superior knowledge, Melina-sama." After his first sight of her in the salon car, he had completely forgotten why he had decided to work at home that week: it was because of Hounen-Odori, the harvest moon holiday. He joined her at the railing, explained that the holiday was his reason for heading to the country mid-week. "How do you plan to celebrate?" she asked. "I understand it's traditional to write waka poetry, but I'm afraid I'm not much of a poet." " I'm not much of a poet either," he admitted. Then he added quietly, "I cannot think of any better celebration than your accepting my invitation. Thank you." His words had the effect he'd hoped for. She looked up at him wide-eyed. "You're welcome," she whispered. He reached down and touched her hair. Suddenly the events of the last weeks flooded his mind: his first sight of Melina, her disappearance, his failed search, his disbelief when meeting her on the train. He moved in closer, took her face in both hands and kissed her gently. He felt her hesitate for a few seconds. Then she began to kiss him back, tilting her head slightly and standing on her tiptoes. He felt a sudden warmth course through his body as he pulled her close. They stood on the porch for several minutes, eventually leaning against the vertical railings to keep their balance. Melina unbuttoned the top three buttons on his shirt, sliding her soft hands across his shoulders and down his upper arms, tracing the muscles with her fingers. She put her face on his chest, then slid her mouth gently across it as if she were tasting him. Shinichi could wait no longer. He led her to the leather sofa, sat down next to her. He felt as clumsy and desperate as a schoolboy as he unbuttoned the top buttons on her blouse, then pushing her blouse down and over her shoulders and upper arms. Except for a fine silver chain, all she wore underneath was a plain black slip. He slid the shoulder straps down a couple of inches, tasted her neck and shoulders. He pushed the slip down further, exposing her breasts; they were as beautiful as he had imagined, perfectly symmetrical with budlike nipples. He touched them gently with his fingers, watching as they responded. Melina seemed torn between shyness and desire. While her pulse was racing and she made no move to stop his advances, she was unable to look directly at him for more than a few seconds. He caressed her for several more minutes, touching and licking each nipple until they were fully erect. He carefully arranged several sofa pillows before lowering her to them. Her half-unbuttoned blouse's sleeves held her arms at her sides while the slip pushed her breasts up and forward, but she made no attempt to remove them. She closed her eyes. He carefully removed her lace panties, then ran his hands over her soft thighs, working his way between them until she finally relaxed enough to let him slide both hands between them. Fantasies are almost more rewarding than realities. Shinichi realized he was experiencing the opposite. The foreigner's pale skin was silkier, her kisses more arousing, her shy demeanor more tantalizing than he had imagined. He felt as if he were drowning. He slid two fingers upward and just inside her, her warm wetness like delicate petals. Next he ran his fingers upwards until he found her clit, already beginning to swell. He rubbed her slowly, gradually increasing the pressure until she began to cry out quietly and her body arched to meet him. "Kirei dayo," he whispered. She opened her eyes for a second, looked up at him before shyness took over again. Slowly he positioned himself between her thighs and began to enter her, whispering still, please, holding her hips. Melina turned her head to one side, her hair spread across the sofa in waves. She was tight as a virgin and Shinichi was finding it difficult to continue slowly instead of ramming himself into her. He hesitated, then gently spread her legs even further apart and upwards, pinning them under his arms. Finally he was completely inside. He slowly, deliberately began moving inside her, savoring her wetness and warmth, watching as she dug her nails into the sofa's leather. Her arms were still trapped by her sides by her half-buttoned blouse but she made no move to free herself. Eventually he moved closer, releasing her legs as he increased his rhythm. He reached down and held her by her hair as she wrapped her legs around him. Suddenly Melina opened her eyes, looking up at him as if she had finally recognized his true identity. Chapter Six: Surrender Even though she had always been true to her own desires, it took some time for the ever-analytical Melina to fully realize the situation. It had all happened so fast: meeting Shinichi on the train, realizing her growing attraction to him as they drank and talked and played cards. And when he finally confessed to his initial attraction to her in Osaka, she had felt as if she'd received an expensive, perfectly wrapped gift. When she moved from the back to the passenger seat of his black sedan, he had reached around her with the seat belt to assist her. Melina had caught herself half-wishing he would try to kiss her. And by the time they finished their tea, her attraction to him had increased. While she was unsure of how far she wanted to go, she wanted to send him a signal. The porch had seemed an ideal place. She had surprised herself by not only responding to Shinichi's touch, but also realizing that she was willing to give herself to him just minutes after their first kiss on the porch. The chemistry was as powerful as if he had drugged her tea. She imagined him standing in the kitchen, her teacup in one hand and a small vial in the other, as he carefully added a single drop of a rare and expensive philter. And although she had felt a certain amount of shyness as he undressed her -- it had been almost two years since she'd last been with a man - she had also felt a new, deep sense of arousal, as if he had removed more than her clothes. Now, all she could think of was how Shinichi felt inside her, huge and hard. He held her legs tightly against him while her half-buttoned blouse trapped her arms at her sides. His dominant approach touched a new and erotic nerve. It was though his control of Melina's body had freed her to concentrate solely on how it felt to be properly, thoroughly fucked. She whimpered softly underneath him, dug her nails into the soft leather as he increased his rhythm. Shinichi sensed that her initial shyness had disappeared. Now he felt in command and responsible for her pleasure, combined with his right to enjoy her body as he wished. He unbuttoned her blouse, freeing her arms. In a single, graceful movement, he moved himself underneath her so that she was on her knees and riding him. He pulled off her blouse. All that was left was the black slip, now bunched around her hips. She leaned back with her hands on his thighs as she pushed herself down, taking him as deeply as she could. She rode him for several minutes, her head thrown back. Shinichi could see the outline of her breasts perfectly silhouetted in the dim light. He realized he would not be satisfied until he watched her come. He pulled her close and rubbed gently until he could feel her wet, tender clit swell and then harden. Suddenly he felt her relax inside, and then clench him tightly as she dug her nails into his arms, pushing him into her even deeper. He heard her softly cry out his name. She fell forward as her orgasm continued, her forehead on his shoulder as she twitched helplessly. Shinichi returned her to her back and held her by her ankles, spreading her wide apart. He began plunging into her like an animal, feeling himself grow even harder as she arched her back to meet him, his orgasm just seconds away. Suddenly he jerked himself out of her, marking her belly and breasts until she was drenched with come. Looking down at his signature, he dipped one finger into the thick white liquid and put it into her mouth. She gently sucked his finger clean. He retrieved it, dipped two fingers into her filled navel, presented them to her. Shinichi spent the next few minutes tracing sticky paths on her belly and breasts, occasionally offering his fingers to her. Finally he kissed her and wrapped her in his discarded shirt before going to fetch a blanket for her. She closed her eyes. As he pulled his trousers on, he looked at Melina lying on the sofa, his white dress shirt sticking to her damp body. Again, he could not believe his good fortune. Chapter Seven: Home When he returned to the living room, Melina had tucked one arm under her head and appeared to be asleep. Shinichi considered wrapping her in the blanket and carrying her to his bed. But when he drew close, she looked up at him, a shy smile on her face. He sat down next to her, peeled off his shirt and carefully washed her with the warm cloths he'd brought. Then he wrapped the blanket around both of them and pulled her close to him, her head on his chest, until she fell asleep. But Shinichi did not join her. He was wide-awake, thinking of the evening's events and of Melina. What now? Would she want to stay until the weekend, or insist on rejoining the train the next evening? And was she as attracted to him as he was to her? He felt no less smitten with her after taking her; instead, he wanted her more than ever before. He kept thinking of their first kiss on the porch, how her face had felt between his hands. He remembered the first time she smiled at him in the salon car; it was during his description of his first days in England and his various innocent faux pas. She had such a pretty smile. And his memories of her on the leather sofa -- arching her back as he entered her, whispering his name, cleaning his sticky fingers with her tongue -- kept reappearing in his mind, like photographs hidden in a bedside drawer. More than once, he found himself guiltily wishing she would awaken so that he might attempt to seduce her again before sunrise. Finally he stood up, carefully carried her to his bedroom. She was even lighter than he imagined. As he covered her with a quilt, she stirred and opened her eyes. She touched his face with her fingers. The sight of Melina reaching up to him from his bed filled Shinichi with a pure joy, simple and profound. He lay down next to her, took her in his arms. He felt her slide her arms around him, holding him close, forehead on his shoulder. He heard her whisper goodnight, Shinichi-san. For the first time, his country house felt like a home.