Irene's fork was half way to her mouth when Sam thanked her.  She gave a bawdy smile, chewed and swallowed and then, eyes dancing mischievously, looked pointedly to his lap.  "YOu must admit, Mr. Markham, that I do give good head..'s-up." she said, dividing the word for a beat, a grin tugging at her mouth.<br/><br/>She took another sip of wine, seeming to consider things.  "I think we'll have many, many good nights followed by mornings even better, Sam.  I just feel it.  I don't know what you've done to me..."  She chuckled low.  "Well, I know what you've done...  But, I mean you've affected me since we met.  I thought I needed a nice, quiet farmer and I guess I really wanted a strong, gentle man."  She sighed.  "Funny what our brains don't know that our hearts just do..."  She reached a foot under the table to rub the side of Sam's leg.  "Damned lucky day when you settled at my bar," she said, growing serious.