The Accountant's Wife

"I love you, Mrs James," I told her.

Her lips latched onto mine and her pussy ground against my hard cock. "Just fuck me, you beautiful man. I love you and that wonderful cock of yours." Her hand slid down between us to grasp that part of me.

A few yards away a small boat bobbed in the swell. I drew her over to the boat and pushed Rebecca up and in. I followed her and found her lying on her back on an old sail. Her arms raised to pull me close, her legs wide to greet me.

My cock head pushed apart her pussy lips. She pulled me close with her legs, impaling herself on my shaft until I filled her. I groaned in pleasure as her soft passage gripped me, sending ripples along my cock. Her mouth opened and her eyes glinted with lust in the moonlight.

We let the swell of the waves set the rhythm of our lovemaking. This was love, not raw sex. We moved slowly, languidly, our body heat warming the air around us. Deep long thrusts into her core as she buried her face into my neck, nibbling my skin.

It seemed it was hours later that we both reached our mutual conclusion, Becca had been stifling her cries as little orgasms had been building up to the big one. I felt my balls tighten as I grew close to mine. She felt me throb and grow and surrendered to her body's need. She wailed as she came and felt my cum spurting into her core. She shuddered and shook in my arms.

I rolled to the side, tipping the fragile craft, almost tipping the pair of us into the sea. Cold water splashing over the side, "Christ how to spoil the moment," she snorted, then pulled me close to kiss me. "I do love you." Then she stood and dived over the side and began swimming towards the beach.

The sand still retained some of the sun's heat, but we both shivered in the night air. I rubbed her down with my shirt before she slipped on her dress, the fabric clinging to her damp body. I pulled on my jeans, tossing my boxers into the sea to join her lost thong, then we headed back to the village and the yacht. I thought that for a brief moment I saw a shadow move in the distance, further up the path.

The main act: in the present.

There had been a couple of major changes to our lives since that holiday. The first and most important was that our family had grown by one. We had created a merman as a result of our midnight swim. Nine months later we had a son who we named David Conrad James, but everyone called him Davy.

The other big change was the reappearance of my parents back into my life. Ever since my eleventh birthday and my first term at Kendrick Hall prep school, I'd only seen them a few times a year. Sounds odd, I know, but they were always travelling on Academic research trips. It wasn't that they didn't love me, I'd always known that they did, but they loved their shared passion for anthropology almost as much.

My father, Simon, suffered a minor heart attack. Usually, that wouldn't have been a big issue if he had received medical care at the time. Dad had his attack deep in the Amazon jungle. It took Mum four days to get him to civilization and proper medical care, and the resulting damage to his heart was more than it should have been.

As a result, my parents rethought their lives. Dad took an early retirement, due to his poor health. My mother went part time at the university and refused to travel. They put their large home up for sale and began looking for a smaller place closer to us. Most weekends they would stay with us as they looked at the local property. Jessica reveled in all the new attention she was getting, Davy was too young to appreciate it yet, but no doubt he would soon.

My business was going from strength to strength. The upside of which was I was able to employ a couple more forensic accountant investigators. A bonus for me was that I didn't need to travel as much and when I did they were usually short trips. If I were lucky, Rebecca would come with me, although recently she'd been too busy.

It had started five months earlier when Rebecca arrived home from work. Her face was drawn and pale; she looked uncomfortable. I got a token kiss; then she made a fuss over Jessica and Davy. I poured her a glass of wine, and she sipped from it absently as she got the daily update from Larissa, our au pair.

That evening after both children fell asleep and we were able to relax on the patio watching the summer sun dipped below the horizon. I asked her about her day

The first thing she said was, "Guess who turned up at our office today?"

"Do you want me to guess or are you going to tell me?"

She smiled, but then she grew serious, "Marcus Forde."

I grew cold at hearing that name. For fun, I'd checked with Mary about our Mr. Forde after the holiday, and I discovered that his reputation as a woman chaser was justly deserved. One of the issues he'd been having when he'd joined us on the yacht had been that he'd seduced the wife of his boss, and he had a long history of chasing married women.

"Christ, the dickhead who turned up at the yacht. I thought he was long gone, whatever happened to him?"

"My team had solved that issue before our holiday was over, so I never had any reason to see him again until this afternoon."

I paused for a moment; I remembered the way he'd looked at Rebecca, and it had disturbed me. I'd been very relieved he'd not crossed our path again.

"Why did he come to see you," I asked.

Rebecca didn't answer me straight away. Instead, she played with her glass. "Dad called me yesterday; Roger has a problem, a big one."

"Let me guess, Marcus has fucked up again." I tried not to smile.

Rebecca didn't smile, she just looked concerned which worried me. "It seems like it; a couple of years ago Roger put Marcus in charge of a group of companies in Eastern Europe. The local authorities are investigating Marcus and the senior management for fraud and bribery of local officials. It's a serious crime in both Europe and Romania. The fines alone could be in the multi-million Euro range. Roger could even lose the companies."

Now it was my turn not to smile. "So Roger wants Conrad and Winter and Associates to defend him and his bloody nephew?"

"In a way, the companies are part of a separate European division, she said, "so, Roger is off the hook. As I'm based over here, Dad wants me to take the lead and defend Marcus and the rest of the senior managers."

"Oh, hell no," I said without thinking.

Rebecca gave me a surprised look. "I don't get to choose my clients, Mike. I may be in charge over here but when Dad tells me to jump, the only answer I'm allowed to give is 'how high'."

"Becs, this has gone on too long. You don't need to work anymore; I earn far more than we can spend, just pack your job in."

As soon as I said it, I knew I'd gone too far. She stared at me; her lips were pale and tight. I didn't regret saying it; I just wished I'd approached the idea a bit more diplomatically, but it was something I'd been thinking about ever since Davy had been born.

"I'm not giving up my career," Rebecca snapped. "I've spent too much time and effort to get where I am now."

"I'm not suggesting that you give up the law. I know how much you love that, but you don't need to work for your father, how about looking for a job locally? At least consider going part time and find someone else to handle this case."

She shook her head, and I knew that there was little chance I would be able to make her change her mind. I tried, though.

"We knew him for less than a day," I said, "and as far as I could see he spent most of that time trying to seduce you. He's got a history of seducing married women. Now you'll need to spend months with him. Your team dealt with him last time, why can't they do it again?"

"It's too big a case this time. You don't like him, do you?"

"He gave me no reason to like him, did he?" I gave her a questioning look. "I guess that this is a big case for you, but I'm convinced that he'll use the situation to get close to you. Don't work on it on your own; get someone else to run the point for you."

She gave me an angry look in return. "What hurts, is that you seem to think that I'll fall for his charming smile; don't you trust me?"

Fuck, "Of course I trust you; it's him I don't trust. Do you recall me telling you about Karen's friend Geraldine, the lawyer? She nodded, and I continued. "When I mentioned Marcus, she thought his name sounded familiar and somehow linked to Geraldine. She asked her and Geraldine told her about a married local artist he tried to seduce."

"Mike, I'm not an impressionable schoolgirl, I can look after myself. I've got to take this case, Dad's insisting, but I promise I'll keep everything professional. Hell, he gives me the creeps, so you've got nothing to worry about."

There wasn't anything more to say about it, other than to retire to our bedroom and confirm how much we loved each other until we both fell into an exhausted sleep.

The next few months passed, seemingly without incident. Rebecca saw Marcus several times at her office in London, and she would come home vocal about her frustration with him. On four occasions, she and a couple of her associates flew to Romania to interview and take depositions from the senior managers who'd been arrested with Marcus.

The first time she'd flown to Romania, I'd asked her why she needed to travel if Marcus was in the U.K.

"The only reason Marcus was allowed to leave the country was that Roger posted a five-million-euro bond," she said. "He won't do it for the others, so I need to go there to interview them."

Mid-November I got back from a two-week trip to Australia. A case I'd dealt with earlier in the year had gone to court, and I was a witness for the prosecution. I hadn't been keen on going, and I tried and failed to get Rebecca to come with me.

Rebecca was waiting for me as the taxi dropped me off at home. When I saw her, she looked drawn and nervous. Something had changed, and I instantly thought about Marcus. She hugged me and wouldn't let me go for what seemed ages.

"What's up?" I asked.

"Just hold me," she said. "I've just had a rough few days, and I'm so pissed off with Roger and Dad."

I did as I was told, and after a few minutes l felt her begin to relax, and I was able to lead her into the kitchen and get her to sit down.

"Tea?"

"Please."

As I prepared it for her, she gathered her thoughts. She never told me anything about her cases other than very general details. Today she broke her own rule which told me how upset she was.

"Roger has made a separate deal with the Romanian government behind my back. He's sold the companies involved to a group of Romanian businessmen and the government has dropped the charges against all the senior managers."

"So, Marcus gets off Scot free, the jammy bastard."

"Yes and no, the Romanian government have dropped their charges, but the European Commission has decided not to play ball and is going to carry on with their case against him. Roger's livid; he called Dad and told him that if Marcus doesn't get off, we won't get any more of their business."

"If it's so important to your father, why isn't he sending someone over to take the case?"

"He can't; I am the firm's expert on European law, I'm also the only one who has the correct credentials for the European courts. Come on, you know it's why I work here."

Shit, I knew that I was just venting my anger on the wrong person. "Is he guilty?"

She gave me an exasperated look, "Of course he is, but that's irrelevant as far as Roger is concerned. I've got my instructions. I have to get him off." Her expression changed to one that radiated a degree of nervousness that raised my sense of agitation.

"Why am I sensing that I need to be worried?" I asked.

"You don't, only I'm going to need to spend a fair amount of time with Marcus, and I know you're not going to be happy about that."

"Too fucking right I'm not."

"Don't worry love; I'll keep it professional and all aboveboard."

"Hell it's not you I'm worried about, it's him!"

"Mike, you've got nothing to worry about, I've seen him three times this week, and he's been the perfect gentleman each time."

It took me a while to take it all in, not helped as I was tired from the 24 hours of travel. "Three times!

Rebecca gave me an entreating look. "I love you and our children too much to let a silver-tongued asshole spoil our life."

I drew her into a hug, "I love you, too."

That's how we left it, both tiptoeing around our feelings for the next few days. I had no proof that Marcus considered Rebecca as anything more than his lawyer. I just had a gut feeling that given even the slimmest chance he would actively pursue her if he wasn't already.

Over the next couple of weeks, I did the one thing I promised I would never do; I started a financial investigation into one of Rebecca's clients, our Mr. Forde. It's a lot harder when you're not given access to a company's records, but I have a pair of computer geniuses working for me who were more than happy to work on the dark side after I explained why. They warned me that their research was going to take a lot longer than usual.

They were still delving into Marcus a month later when the evening of Winter and Associates European branch annual Christmas party rolled around. This year, Conrad and a couple of the senior partners were flying over from America to attend. I suspected that Marcus's case had something to do with their decision to attend. All the staff and partners were invited. A couple of weeks before the party, the firm had decided to change the date to the second Friday in December. Something of a surprise as it had always been on the second Saturday in December.

When Rebecca told me the change, I gave her a surprised look. "I thought I told you I'm away the latter half of that week; I don't get back until Saturday."

"Christ, I thought that you were going to be back on Friday," she said. "Is there any chance you can change the dates? I can't move the date of the party. Dad has insisted we hold it on Friday."

I was sure I couldn't; there were personal reasons I needed to go, but I didn't want to tell her that. "I'll see what my client says," I told her.

I had no luck, so Wednesday afternoon I flew to Rome. The client was a small family run investment bank, and the owners were related to Francesca via her mother's side of the family. They handled a lot of Francesca's accounts, so I had a soft spot for them. I'd helped several of their clients out of tricky situations in the past at her request. This time they had the problem, they had discovered a large shortfall in their accounts and the brothers that owned the bank were refusing to contact the police. They'd been sitting on the discovery for some time waiting for me to try and find their missing funds.

"Signor James," the bank president said. "We can't let anyone know; if they think their investments are not safe they withdraw their funds. It will ruin us." He looked nervous and admitted that several large transactions were coming up over the next few days and that they doubted they had the funds to cover them. As some of the missing funds belonged to Francesca, I was eager to solve the problem.

By Thursday evening I was sure no crime had been committed, their missing funds turned out to be an absolute cluster fuck of an accounting error. Over several months, funds had been transferred to a dormant account in error. It was as simple as a three being transposed to an eight in the account details. It took me most of Friday morning to prove it to the satisfaction of the bank's owners, and start the process of recovering the missing millions.

I tried to call Rebecca and gave her the good news. Her assistant answered Rebecca's phone.

"Rebecca James phone, this is Marcia, can l take a message."

"Hi Marcia, it's Mike."

"Mike, I was sorry to hear you can't make it tonight. Did you want to talk to Rebecca? Only she's in a meeting about the Forde case, and I can't interrupt it."

I sighed, shit that meant she was with Marcus. "That's a pity, only I've got some good news. I've finished here early so it looks like I should get back in time to make the party."

"Oh that's nice, she'll be so happy you can make it. I'll let her know. So you will be here in time?" She queried.

"I'm booked on a flight after lunch. I won't have time to go home to change, but I've got a decent suit with me. I'll come to the office; I should be there late afternoon."

"It's not at the office this year," Marcia said with a hint of surprise in her voice. "Didn't your wife tell you?"

It was the first I'd heard that it wasn't at their offices and I wondered what else I hadn't been told. I told Marcia I hadn't been aware and made a note of the new address. It seemed that it was going to be at a restaurant in Knightsbridge.

Of course, the best-laid plans of mice and men: the flight home Friday afternoon was seriously delayed because of a French air traffic controller strike.

Again, I tried to call Rebecca from the departure lounge. This time it went straight to voicemail. "Hey love, I'm sorry, it looks like my flight's been delayed. I'm flying into Gatwick; we are due to take off at six. It's a two and a half hour flight. I'll get the Gatwick Express into town and come straight to the party. I'll give you a call when I land."

As it was, the flight was delayed a further hour, and we landed at eight-thirty. I only had a carry-on bag, so I was through immigration and customs in less than half an hour. I paused for a moment to gather my wits. It was a lot later than I expected; should I just give up and head home? As I pondered, the address system announced the next departure of the Gatwick Express train service to London would depart in 10 minutes. I found myself hurrying across the airport building towards the station. The journey into London only took 30 minutes. A 20-minute taxi ride and I alighted at the entrance of the restaurant.

I was surprised to see a sign on the door telling the world that the restaurant was closed for a private event. I'd eaten here before, and it was a bit large for the limited number that was usually at the Christmas party. I'd known that there were private dining rooms and I'd just assumed the party was in one of those. The rather large man, effectively blocking the doorway while eying me suspiciously was further evidence of the private nature of the event.

He said, "Private party," as he held out his hand to stop me entering. "I need to see an invite before I can let you in."

What invite, I thought? Rebecca or Marcia hadn't mentioned anything about an invite. Then I remembered I'd told Marcia that I'd call Rebecca when I arrived. I fumbled for my phone and found I'd forgotten to switch it back from the flight mode. There were no missed calls or messages. I called her again; her phone only rang once before going straight to voice mail. Crap, I left her a brief message to say that I was here.

I turned back to the man in the doorway. "Look, I was supposed to come with my wife, Rebecca James," I explained. "She's a senior partner of the firm that's holding this party. My flight was delayed, so I assume she's already here and has got my invite... or did she put my name on a list?" I asked hopefully.

He shook his head, "I don't have a list mate, as far as I understand it's invite only. I've got strict instructions, no invite, no entrance, I can't do anything."

"Can you just get a message through to her, or anyone from Winter's; they will vouch for me."

He hesitated and then spoke briefly into a microphone pinned to his lapel. He touched his ear as he listened to a response. His face resumed its blank expression, and he studiously ignored me.