My snort wasn’t very elegant. “That’s ’cause you speak it too well.”
She nodded toward my book, her expression friendly. “Do you need help with your schedule?”
“I just need to know if the train I hear comin’ down the tracks is the Orient Express.”
“It is. Are you going to Vienna?”
“If that’s Wien on the map, then yeah.”
“Not to worry, you’re in the right place and that’s our train. Are you in a sleeper car for the night?”
“I paid for a couchette.”
Again, her nose wrinkled—an affectation that made her seem younger. “You do know you’ll be sleeping with five other people.”
“I’m carrying a backpack,” I said, my tone dead-panned. “You know this isn’t a luxury vacation for me.”
“I’ve reserved a sleeper car. It’s about eighty Euros extra, and I only have to share it with one other person…” Her voice trailed off, but a question glinted in her pale-blue eyes.
Realizing I’d just had a longer conversation with this woman than I’d had with anyone since I’d set down in Paris a week ago, I felt reluctant to dismiss her suggestion. “You said you reserved yours…”
“If no one else has reserved the space, just sit in the car with me and you can pay the attendant when he comes.”
“I’m Nicole, by the way,” I said, adjusting my pack on one shoulder to hold out my hand.
Her firm grip surprised me. “Annegret.”
She continued to hold my hand, and I fought my natural inclination to pull away first, not understanding if this was just one of the many European customs I didn’t get.
When her thumb caressed my palm, my breath caught. Again, an unspoken question lay in the intensity of her intelligent gaze.
“Annegret…” I began, but the train finally arrived, pulling to a halt next to our concrete platform.
She released me, picked up the small overnight bag at her feet, and walked to the doors sliding open on the car marked “1.”
First class. The cut of her thin wool suit—a short, body-hugging jacket, a slim skirt that reached mid-thigh—snuggled close to her lithe figure. Definitely first class. My eyes trailed down her body, past the swell of her small bottom to her nude legs, and then snagged on the clunky leather and cork sandals she wore.
“Strictly for comfort. Like your Nikes,” she said, catching my startled glance and sounding just a bit breathless, perhaps even anxious. “Coming?”
Maybe I’d read more into that little caress than I should have. Or maybe she worried that she’d really offended me this time.
Fact was, I wasn’t so much shocked as secretly thrilled. Annegret with her straight blonde hair and tall lean body was an attractive woman, and while I’d never had a sexual encounter with a woman before, it wasn’t like I hadn’t ever entertained the thought.
However, back in my own neighborhood, the opportunity had never presented itself, and frankly, there was no way in hell I’d let word get around that I swung like a pendulum. Here, I could take a chance. After all, I’d come to Europe seeking adventure and an expansion of my narrow horizons.
I followed her up the steps into the sleeper car, trailing behind her down the narrow corridor as she checked the numbers on the doors until she came to hers. She glanced over her shoulder, excitement shimmering in her eyes, and entered the tiny cabin.
Two red upholstered chairs sat side-by-side under a window. A wall with seams running down its length must be where the fold-down beds lay hidden.
“Stow your pack in the bin over the door,” she said, as she chose another compartment.
We took our seats. My gaze roamed the narrow room, taking in the amenities—the sink, the linens and towels stacked in a cupboard. All the while, I felt her glance burning over my skin as the sensual tension escalated in the room.
The attendant arrived just as the train lurched out of the station. Annegret presented her ticket; I gave him my flexi-pass and enough Euros to secure the berth. After arranging for snacks and tea in the morning, I sat while Annegret pulled down the shade over the window and at the door, and turned the lock to assure our privacy.
All the while she moved about in silence, I felt my palms sweat and my heartbeat thud against my chest. Was this really what I thought this was all about?
When she turned back, she smoothed her palms down the side of her skirt and cleared her throat. “You don’t have to do anything, Nicole. We can just talk.”