All 141 people aboard were killed. You probably didn’t read about it in the newspaper. That would be because no American newspaper reported it. Afte... all, it was a Russian-made aircraft. It was a charter flight. It was transporting Russian and Ukrainian miners from Moscow to Norway. Why would anyone in America care about the deadliest aviation accident ever in Norway? Why should we care?” he asked. I shrugged. I had no idea what his point was, but I assumed it would be an interesting story. " Put some music on Sparks. Lets have a good time eh ?". Yip it was Christine speaking. It was only half 2! "Open the bottle Sparky". I poured the drinks but nobody seemed that interested to drink for some reason.I put on some music and it was Christine who again spoke “Lets play cards”. “Snap” I replied laughing "No Taboo ! Yes girls it'll be fun and erm... good fucking fun ! Fucking being the main object !".Claire, Katie, and Me, just looked at each other in a sort of stunned amazement !. Jones’ DNA and then I made up the results. Of course, there was no match. But I can’t tell you who the father is. I’d need a sample of his DNA for that.”“That’s okay, I know who the real father is. There’s only one other man it could be,” she said, casting a tender glance across at James.In this maelstrom of emotions, I actually felt a sense of loss and humiliation. I’d spent the last two and a half months thinking I was going to be a father again. And sure, it had turned my world upside down. Halfway across the room they heard a discreet muffled knock. Kesselring’s lips twisted into a half-smile, “The wine.” He turned to the door, accepted the wine and handed the deliverer something. Turning back he smiled again, “And now the prize,” wine in hand he re-crossed the room.Downstairs she’d sensed his masculinity, his male heat. Her body had involuntarily replied with a heat of its own. Downstairs she’d thrilled at the prospect of having this man, of taking his seed, of subduing his.