Kaori covered a yawn with her pretty fingers. It had been a long day… a long night too. Her phone read 4:32 am. She glanced at Ma?l. He looked at her in understanding. He stretched his arms up and yawned so loud everyone turned to him. His mouth was wide open, comically so. He finished his yawn, seemingly oblivious to his audience.

  Noi laughed. He called to one of his junior officers. The man was nursing a bottle of Lao Khao and looked positively smashed.

  “Oi, nong Dam! Mi hong wang mai krap?”

  Dam looked up at Noi, then at Ma?l and Kaori. He stood up, picked one of the key cards from his pocket and handed it to Noi.

  “Grand Deluxe Room 3506, chan 35,” he said in English, visibly impressed with his accomplishment. Rightly so, Ma?l thought, looking at the nearly empty bottle of whiskey. That the man could stand and talk seemed nothing short of a miracle.

  “Come with me,” Noi said. Ma?l and Kaori were already standing. They waved goodbye to every one and followed after Noi through the hotel’s plush corridors. Kaori felt right at home—she’d spent a considerable amount of time in high-end hotels. Ma?l was gawking, taking in the sumptuous decor of the hotel, much to Noi’s amusement. He stopped in front of the lift and handed him the card.

  “Your room is on the 35th floor. I’ll tell the hotel staff before I go tomorrow morning. You can sleep in. Call me when you guys are up and about. You got my number, right?”

  He walked away, but Ma?l ran after him.

  “Kob Khun Krap, Pi Noi” Ma?l said with a respectful Wai.

  “Ah, Mai pen ray, Ma?l” he said, dismissing the thanks with a tinge of embarrassment, “it’s only natural.” Being drunk made him emotional and he didn’t deal well with gratitude, even when he was sober.

  Ma?l and Kaori found the room without any issue. It was large and had a balcony overlooking the river. A very nice room, although Ma?l felt it should have been… more? He’d seen the hotel from the outside a number of times and it was considered a landmark in the city. Perhaps that was more due to its exceptional location, yards away from the city center, but in a sort of oasis, by the river. The place was old, built when Bangkok was a lot smaller. Either way, he’d imagined impossibly high standards. In reality, the room was not that different from those of the better hotels Ma?l had visited in the past. It was decorated in a neoclassical style, with soft rugs and teak wood paneling, a sofa, and a king-size bed. The bathroom was surprisingly large, with two sinks facing each other and a sizable bath tub.

  Ma?l went in the shower. When he came out, Kaori was sprawled on the bed—dead to the world, her shoes still on. He felt a sense of wonder, just looking at her. He leaned over, inspecting the lines of her face, her skin so smooth, so perfect, her lips so soft. She was so innocent, so pure, so brave, so… her mouth opened slightly and she began snoring.

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  Caught by surprise, he nearly fell backward. He chuckled to himself. She might look like an angel, but she was very much a woman, and a spy no less, though she couldn’t look any less like a spy. Then again, wasn’t that exactly how a spy should look like?

  His knowledge of the trade came from non-primary sources—James Bond movies and a handful of espionage books he used read as a child. The fabulous adventures of Lieutenant X. Fond memories, but he thought he had outgrown the genre. He looked at the delicate form laying on the bed—clearly, there was more to be enjoyed in espionage than he had previously realized. In fact, he was well on his way to becoming a spy himself.

  He began to remove her shoes, careful not to wake her. She didn’t move as he slipped his fingers delicately along her calves, pulling her socks off. She twitched and he stopped. She was still snoring softly. God, she almost made snoring sound elegant! After waiting for a few seconds, he untied her belt and began tugging on her pants, a fraction of an inch at a time, slowly revealing her curves. She was still sleeping soundly. He opened the buttons of her shirt, that same shirt he had bought for her at Don Quijote, an eternity ago, and fumbled around her back to untie her bra.

  She groaned, muttering something. He stiffened, inspecting her face. He remained still, holding his breath. She moved her head to the side. He waited a few more seconds and resumed his delicate struggle against the clasp. Finally, the clasp surrendered, releasing its precious treasure. How did she keep something so tight all day? It couldn’t be comfortable.

  He stepped back, admiring her relaxed figure and appraising his next challenge. Could he really remove her shirt without waking her up? Books had made it sound so easy.

  The gentleman removed the princess’ clothes off before tucking her comfortably into bed.

  There. One line, nothing to it. Looking at it now, the task seemed near impossible. First, his growing desire disqualified him as a gentleman. Second, the logistics were daunting. He had to roll her over, pull her arm back while sliding her shirt’s sleeve off, roll her back the other way, pull on that sleeve, then either lift her or tug the shirt from under her. Then do it again with her bra. Maybe he could do one sleeve and the bra at the same time? Probably, but still impossible.

  How could she not wake up at some point? It seemed ludicrous. Did fairy tale princesses use sleeping pills? He leaned over her again, listening. Her snore was now little more than a whisper, her breathing regular. Too regular, he realized with a start. Was she faking? He peered closely at her eyelids, trying to discern a telltale glimmer of awareness. Nothing.

  “I know you’re not sleeping,” he whispered softly in her ear. “If you don’t move I will…” he let the sentence trail off… what was an acceptable “threat”? He caressed her face with the tips of his fingers, tracing her lips before languorously gliding down her neck and pausing just above her chest, like a climber setting camp at the base of a mountain. Her breathing quickened slightly.

  “Last warning.” he murmured.

  No response. Her eyes were still closed. She looked so peaceful and innocent.

  That’s enough, he thought. He suppressed his growing desire and placed a gentle kiss on her forehead before tucking her in the cover. He climbed to the other side of the bed, shimmying in his large body in the surprisingly small space she hadn’t claimed.

  The room felt silent. Nothing moved. Frustrated, Kaori turned to face him.

  The foolish man was sound asleep already!

  She crawled over him, placing her head on his chest, where it belonged. Sadly, he wasn’t faking. I should have taken his threat more seriously, she thought, allowing sleep to take her.