I think I know why I gave myself so completely to this man, how I was capable of it with someone I had met only six hours before. Apart from the excitement of his looks, his authority, his maleness, he had come from nowhere, like the prince in the fairy tales, and he had saved me from the dragon. But for him, I would now be dead, after suffering God knows what before. He could have changed the wheel of his car and gone off, or, when danger came, he could have saved his own skin. But he had fought for my life as if it had been his own. And then, when the dragon was dead, he had taken me as his reward. In a few hours, I knew, he would be gone--without protestations of love, without apologies or excuses. And that would be the end of that--gone, finished.All women love semi-rape. They love to be taken. It was his sweet brutality against my bruised body that had made his act of love so piercingly wonderful. That and the coinciding of nerves completely relaxed after the removal of tension and danger, the warmth of gratitude and a woman's natural feeling for her hero. I had no regrets and no shame. There might be many consequences for me--not the least that I might now be dissatisfied with other men. But whatever my troubles were, he would never hear of them. I would not pursue him...........And for all my life I would be grateful to him, for everything. And I would remember him forever as my image of a man.
A secret agent? I didn't care what he did. A number? I had already forgotten it. I knew exactly who he was and what he was. And everything, every smallest detail, would be written on my heart forever.
from the novel The Spy Who Loved Me by Ian Fleming, 1962
Please stop and visit my favorite James Bond web site:
The Commanders Club
