I turned to stare at her. The headlights of an approaching car illuminated her face and for the first time, I got a good look at my companion. She was beautiful. It was the kind of beauty that makes men abandon all caution. For a full minute I stared into her fathomless blue eyes. “What’s your name?” I whispered. “Almira. It’s Arabic. It means: a princess.” “You are a _princess_.” She laughed. “I am.” We continued to stare into each other’s eyes, neither of us moving or speaking. We said a lot without saying a word ... Messages and replied. Offers and acceptances. It was the first time in my life that I had carried on a long conversation with my eyes. I drove to the nearest motel. The modern log cabins clustered at the edge of a forest, but although the small buildings were close together the surrounding trees and bushes gave each an appearance of isolation and serenity. Only the brightly-lighted brick office building struck an incongruous note. The clerk was bald, unshaven and engrossed in a pin-up girl magazine. He looked up as we entered the office, hid the magazine, took the cigar from his thick lips and asked, “Can I help you?” “Got a cabin?” I inquired. He replied with a little speech of three dozen words that said in effect, “Yes.” While I fumbled for my wallet, I saw him glance at Almira’s left hand and the wedding ring that wasn’t there. He looked at me and smiled. One of _those_ smiles. Then he looked at Almira ... really _looked_ at her for the first time. He had difficulty taking his eyes from her. He gave me a key and I clutched it in my palm as if it were a key to paradise. He pronounced a number and I memorized it as if it were a password to eternal ecstasy. As we walked to the cabin, I was acutely conscious of every surrounding detail, as if inner excitement had sharpened my senses abnormally. My ears registered the crunch of our feet on gravel, the hum of tires on the distant highway, the whispering of the wind in the trees and even the chatter of invisible crickets. Each sound seemed distinct, almost thunderous. It was a small cabin. I turned on the lights, locked the door and sat down. My knees felt weak. She undressed with majestic poise, and without a trace of shyness. She was not ashamed, though I never took my eyes from her. She acted as if it was the most natural thing in the world for her to undress before an audience. When she was undressed, she turned and smiled at me. The smile seemed to say, _You may look but I’ll never let you touch me_. Her body was unbelievably beautiful, white and voluptuously formed. My temples started pounding. I found myself thinking, _I don’t want you. I love my wife. I don’t know why I came here_.... She smiled again, turned out the lights and reclined on the bed. And then it began.