"Please don't, M'sieu'. It's not necessary."

"But I feel like a cad…"

She had laughed once more. "I like you the way you were… and shall we say about two-ish tomorrow…?"

"T-Two-ish…?" he repeated, his iniquitous rogue's eyes beginning to dance excitedly. "You overwhelm me, Ma'm'selle…"

"It's Madame, darling, and there is a fee attached," she had said quite matter-of-factly.

"Fee? Whatever it is, it's not enough. I'll double it," he had responded, licking at his thin lips salaciously.

"And Rafael mustn't know. It would hurt him deeply, cheri. I'm sure you understand."

"Of course, of course! The utmost decorum, darling. I understand," he'd said in his rich depth of voice. "Ah… what a marvel you are, my dear. I wonder if he realizes how fortunate he is to have such a mistress? But then… I'm sure he does. Have you met Madame Girarde and their adopted child, Igat? What a splendid little girl. Beautiful… beautiful child…"

She could remember little of his conversation following the mentioning of Igat. The name alone was like a paralyzing bolt of lightning jolting through her whenever it was spoken. Even now as she recalled his throaty voice rolling the name from his lips, a sensation of agonized longing spiraled through her. Her eyes moistened and she bit at her full, lower lip. Had she met their adopted child…? Dear God… her own baby! Her own Igat! Why else was she living but for the day when they would be together, away from all of this… her own sweet little darling, Igat…?

Damn… she had to get a hold on herself, and right away. Certainly, she couldn't walk into his suite in this mood or he'd quickly lose his double-fee ideas. Double fee… hmmmmm… four hundred dollars… not an untidy sum… and she intended to hold him to his promise. Four hundred… that would make her twenty-two hundred in the bank.