The idea of returning to New York had been Paul's. Whatever he would do there for a livelihood, Janet had no idea, but he had abruptly come to the conclusion that he had never been cut-out to be a diplomat. He had made the decision himself, following their clearing up the mess of the Palais de Plaisir with the police, Madame Leduc's arrest, and her own week's stay at a legitimate sanitarium where Leduc's fiendish hypnotic hold over her was eliminated, along with discovering that he had been injecting harmless distilled water into her and through post-hypnotic suggestion, forcing her to believe she was addicted.
Following medical advice, they had booked passage on the St. Croix once more for their return trip home, in order that she might enjoy a much needed rest. And so far, these first two days, she had really reveled in the relaxing luxury, she mused, as she stretched out in her deck-chair beneath the brilliant Atlantic sun.
However, relaxing her body was one thing; her mind was another. Leduc was dead, but the erotic fires he had ignited within both Paul and herself would never die… and last night together in their stateroom had been the proof of that. Never had she dreamed in her Puritanistic upbringing that sex could be so beautiful… so fulfilling… especially with the aid of the Dhattura aphrodisiac she had managed to take from Leduc's quarters before the police confiscated everything. But even with the delicious enjoyment that both of them had found in each other, they had readily admitted they would never be happy confining their now greedy sexual appetites to the limited scope of one husband and one wife. They had enjoyed the pleasures of variety too well to go without again.
Well, thank God we both agree on it anyway, Janet thought. It's going to make for a perfectly happy marriage…
Her thoughts were interrupted as she looked up and saw Paul walking along the deck toward her, a young man and girl beside him. Paul was smiling as he approached and the young man had his arm around the waist of the girl. As they drew closer, Janet recognized the dark-haired girl as their former maid in Paris.
"Janet, honey, look who I discovered on their way to New York. Francine and her new husband, Jean Laprese. Isn't that wonderful? They're on their honeymoon."
"How marvelous!" exclaimed Janet, a tiny thrill rippling through her at the handsomeness of the young man, and at the feel of his hand as it encircled her own in felicitation.
"I never dreamed we would meet anyone we knew aboard this ship," said Francine warmly in her pleasant French, as Paul caught hold of her hand.
"Darling, I was just telling them that this calls for a drink," Paul said, and Janet detected his quick wink in her direction.
"Of course it does," she agreed, getting to her feet. "We'll have some champagne sent to our quarters. Oh, this is simply wonderful. I just know we're all going to have such a grand time together."
"M'sieu' Arden tells me you have only been married a very short time yourselves," said Jean Laprese to Janet with a wide smile as she took his arm gently, brushing her breast against it, and they fell in behind Francine and Paul.
"Yes, we're still newlyweds," Janet replied, giving his arm a little squeeze, then pausing to turn around and say to the giant mastiff lying by her deck chair, "Come Vailante, lover… I couldn't go anyplace without you."