001

France Charente Maritime

Jana let her gaze rest on her sleeping husband. He was still asleep on his stomach, as always. She grinned, gave him five more seconds, and noticed his lips move.

"Are you awake already?" Mark murmured sleepily, yawned and slid even further back into his bed.

"For a long time, how was the duel yesterday?"

He frowns thoughtfully.

"So bad. Let's face it, that's it for the semifinals.” The white t-shirt revealing a patch of tanned skin as he turned to face her, left arm draped loosely over his eyes. "My nerves. My nerves. Man, was I shaking."

"I know, dear!" The back of her hand passed over his mouth. "Come on you night owl."

"Why do we have to get up so early again?"

"Because I'm hungry, that's why."

"Now give me at least a few minutes. What time is it?"

She reached for the alarm clock that was right next to the bed and waved it in front of his face.

"Today you were able to sleep in for a really long time." His eyes widened.

"Six o'clock!" He made a growling noise and blinked sleepily at Jana.

"Now come back to bed." Pale light fell through the bedroom window. "Come here," he whispered urgently.

"Do you like me?" She smiled, leaning over his torso. A finger slid down her mouth, pulling her bottom lip down slightly. A twinkle came into his eyes and both hands gripped her hips tightly. "One damn sexy witch you are, if I may say so."

"I know!" She then gently brushed up his shirt and ran her fingertips over his torso. Her slender fingers slid further down, slipping under the hem of his panties.

"Stop it, damn it," Mark gasped a moment later. His breathing came in rags. "Do you want Annie to wake up. He braced himself with his elbow. "Come on, make us breakfast that really fills us up." After these words there was a pause in silence. She drew in a sharp breath, while her upper lip trembled.

"Spoilsport!!!"

He stroked his chin absentmindedly.

Offended, she crossed the tiny hallway and squinted over at him. Heavens, why was he grinning like that now? She dawdled barefoot to the wardrobe, gradually rummaged around in it with both hands for an eternity and couldn't decide.

– minutes passed –

"Did you fall asleep in front of the wardrobe?" he asked, not taking his eyes off her. "You're not sleeping, are you? Are you sleeping?"

Shaking her head, she fished out a piece of clothing. Pulled on a top and reached for her matching beaded necklace. Then she slipped into light-colored shorts that pinched a little and examined her reflection from all sides.

"Look at Mark?"

"Hmm!!!"

"I'm sure I'll cut a great figure in that top," she whispered, turning her pot belly with a mischievous smile in her eyes.

"You look good," he said charmingly.

"I look fat!"

A deep, loving growl came from his throat. He stared up at Jana from below and his violent stomach growling broke the silence.

"I'm going to the baker's," she murmured and gently stroked her bulging stomach. Thanks for reminding me I'm fat.

"Phew, it's hot today." A hot breeze caressed her slightly tanned skin. We'd better spend the day at the beach if it's that hot anyway. Nice on a lounger with a view of the sea.

In a good mood, she continued down a long, narrow path, humming. Reached into the blooming lavender bushes and passed an empty tennis court. There, a local greeted her friendly, who came towards her with a big grin on his face and nodded happily.

Through winding streets we went further uphill, with a beautiful view of the sand yachts. Sand, sand, and more sand.

HAAH! Fun factor until you drop.

She finally reached the lovingly furnished boulangerie breathlessly. Here you could be really picky and choose the best rolls.

"Come on!!!" Jana tore at the front door with difficulty. A heavenly scent immediately enveloped her. Just the smell of the sweet aroma brought back childhood memories in her. How exciting it was back then, when you couldn't wait to finally unpack the sweet pastries in the bag. And as the saying goes, if a pregnant woman eats a lot of sweets, she will have a girl. Well, I'm more hungry for sweets at the moment and I'm sure I'll have a sweet princess again

Jana waited in line for what felt like an eternity and it was still a while before it was her turn. With the coffee and the bag in hand, she made her way back. Took a sip and felt the warm liquid slowly spread through her body.

"Simply delicious," Jana murmured, noticing that her stomach was growling strenuously. She would love to eat a bunch of delicious, crispy rolls with all sorts of things right now. She grinned, looking forward to a delicious, long breakfast.

Lost in thought, she overlooked the receding hairline man leaning casually against a tree. A name was emblazoned on his strong upper arm in blue scrawled writing. The whole time he stood there, smiling. But then he suddenly stretched out his left arm, looked around briefly and when nobody was to be seen, he attacked Jana from behind. Hard, his arms wrapped around her bulky stomach from behind and roughly yanked her back. She groaned loudly in pain. The coffee mug slipped from her hands and the warm brown liquid spread around her feet.

"Oh my god, please don't!"

A hand went over her mouth. She bit. Violent!

"Bitch!" he cursed. "You'll be sorry."

A whimpering sound escaped her throat as a damp cloth with chloroform neared the tip of her nose. She tossed her head angrily to escape the foul stench. But he held her relentlessly, grabbed her head and pressed the cloth more firmly over her nose. At first she was still wriggling her arms, swaying on her knees and inhaling the smell deeply in panic. The bag fell to the ground. Angry, she tried to kick him. In vain. Dizzily, she studied the tattooed scrawl on his arm, read the word - Èirinn - but then the ever-intensifying scent clouded her senses and she fell asleep.

Shane sat very still and waited. The nervousness subsided slowly and he could now think more clearly. No matter how bad the story might be. The place of delivery, he thought. That's what it was all about now. That's the most important.

He looked around the ship's main cabin, his eyes fixed on the woman in the triangular berth. Daylight was still streaming through the hull windows. She was sleeping. He held an ashtray in his hand, stroked it and exhaled with an uneasy feeling in his stomach. So now it was time. Leon expected commitment from him at all times and he wouldn't refuse. His job was simply to kidnap the woman, tie her up and sail to Ireland, nothing more. He yawned briefly, thinking of Leon. The conversation with him reverberated through his head like a malicious echo.

I can't forget her, Shane. It just does not work. Nobody loves her like me. Nonsense, somewhere there is always someone who loves her. That's exactly what I feared. That's why I'm here. Tell me, Leon, are you starting again? Isn't there a more elegant way to solve this? Shane knew Leon was stuck in fantasies and this madman had put his gun in his face in response: Is that elegant enough for you.

God damn Irishman! What do you feel in your stomach when you are threatened. Yes, there is anger and Shane's mouth twisted contemptuously. The gun blocked his left nostril. The expression Leon made didn't bode well. You didn't play with him. He had the upper hand. Always. The moon cast a transparent shadow on the calm sea. Two hours later, Shane was firmly gripping the wheel with one hand while stroking his sweaty face with the other.

"She is it. So it really is her”, he whispered and his lips formed into a dubious smile.

Finally!!!....