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We met in a suite, in a posh hotel in Amsterdam. I walked in at the scheduled time and checked in as he had not yet arrived, the flight he was arriving in was late, I was told. The first time he entered the suite, our eyes met as we exchanged greetings and pleasantries. His eyes paused for a fraction of a second on my lips, making my heart skip a beat. I hurriedly looked away and pretended to be in complete control of my feelings. As he excused himself and entered the washroom, I could smell his masculine fragrance that spread throughout the room as the hotel staff brought in his luggage and left with a polite nod. Soon he emerged out looking fresh and relaxed. As I offered to make him a drink from the assorted collection in the cabinet that was in the room, he refused, calling me to sit down in the couch area with a sway of his hands. I was a sexy baby doll dress and walked my way with confidence to the couch. As he sat on one corner looking at me with his deep eyes, I was simply. My mother — and my only living blood relative, my father having passed away from influenza when I was very young – and my stepfather flew in from the antipodes where they’d been living for many years. That was the first time I’d met Cassandra’s uncle and aunt and I have to say that — with hindsight – I’m of the opinion that they didn’t like me very much from the moment they met me. An opinion, that was reinforced by their actions over the following few years. Of course we had all of our friends, most of our — the company was in the process of being converted into a partnership — employees, and representatives from quite a few of our clients there. On the whole I thought everything went off very well. Cassandra and I spent our first night as a married couple in the honeymoon suite of the same hotel we’d hired for the reception. The following day we set off on a tour of the country. We’d talked about going abroad, but for some reason decided to visit some parts of the UK that Cassandra.
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