Two hours later Martin and Darleen Kelly shared a small pitcher of Martinis in their bedroom as he dressed. Darleen sat on the bed, propped up against the headboard with a large pillow behind her. At thirty six she looked every bit as good as the younger Janet, but her own self criticism and fear of growing older blinded her to the fact. Her black hair was cut in the latest Sassoon style. She wore a mini-shirt that revealed a year round tan on her full, sensual thighs and nearly every man she came into contact with looked at her with more than just idle curiosity. She was a beautiful woman, but no man could take advantage of her and she knew it. It was usually the other way around.

"It's working out better than we thought," she said. "Do you think she's ready?"

"Ripe for plucking," he said, smiling at his pun.

"You are too, too funny," she told him. "I hope you're right, though."

"Have I ever been wrong about a woman before?" he said, not waiting for an answer. "You should have seen the look on her face when we drove away. Janet is the loving wife alright, but she has been so neglected by Greg that there will be no trouble at all. And even if there is, I can change her mind. With what I know about Greg, I could convince her of anything. No, sweetheart, getting her hot, little body between the sheets will be no trouble at all."

"No, I suppose not darling, not with that fatal charm of yours," his wife answered with a slight tone of sarcasm.

"But don't forget your part of the plan," he said, ignoring her jibe. "Greg probably won't be that easy."

"Don't be so sure of yourself, Martin. With the right circumstance he'll probably be as easy as you are," she said with a coquettish smile. "I can show him one helluva lot more than that pretty little wife of his and I'll bet he knows it. You saw how attentive he was the last time they were here. If you hadn't said no, I would have taken him to bed right then."