“Good morning,” she said.
“I must have dozed off.”
“Why? You couldn’t possibly be tired; it’s after nine. We must have gotten, oh, two or three hours of sleep.”
Stone rolled over on his stomach and put his head in her lap. “Scratch my back,” he said. “That’s all I have energy for.”
She began scratching his back. “You have sheet marks on your back. That’s what comes from sleeping on wrinkled sheets.”
“It’s the price you have to pay,” Stone muttered, burrowing his head farther into her lap.
“Now that’s a nice place for your head,” she said.
He pulled the robe back and burrowed into her, feeling with his tongue.
“Nicer still.” She lay back on the bed and turned toward him, giving him more access, then she took him in her mouth. They both were becoming excited now. Two minutes later, they shared an orgasm.
“I didn’t know I had that left in me,” Stone said.
“I’m glad you did. Want to do it again?”
“You want me to die right here and now?”
“Poor baby. You take a nap.”
Stone woke from his nap to find a tray next to his head bearing a sandwich and a glass of iced tea.
“See what you get when you’re nice?” Holly asked.
Stone struggled into a sitting position and found the remote control for the bed, raising it to support his back. “What about you?” he said.
“I had lunch in the kitchen, so as not to disturb you. Daisy and I have already been for another, longer walk, too.”
“Such energy!” he said, biting into the sandwich.
“Such a long time since I watched a naked man eat a sandwich,” she replied, smiling at him.
“So what’s your plan for the day?”
“I don’t suppose it would do any good to keep watch at the La Boheme again,” she said. “I must have scared Trini out of Little Italy by now. You think Lance knows more than he’s telling about Trini?”
“I think Lance always knows more than he’s telling. He surprised me last night, with this consultant thing.”
“I think I might do it,” she said, arranging herself next to him. “This is a very nice bed. Does it vibrate?”
“Yep.”
“I’m getting tired of my job,” she said.
“Which job? Me?”
“No, my chief’s job in Orchid Beach.”
“I thought you loved it.”
“I did for a long time, but it’s becoming more and more routine. I mean, I’ve improved the department, trained people better and all that, but it’s not as though I have to do it for a living.”
“That’s right, you’re retired army; you have a pension.”
“Yes, and Jackson left me very nicely fixed, too.”
“That was very nice of Jackson. Why don’t you travel, see some of the world?”
“I’m an army brat,” she said. “I’ve seen the world twice.”
“What do you want to do, then?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m enjoying myself in New York, but I’m not sure I’d want to live here.”
“New York is a better place to live than to visit,” Stone said.
“If you say so.”
“You’ve hardly started to see it. We haven’t eaten anywhere except Elaine’s.”
“Do you ever eat anywhere but Elaine’s?”
“On occasion,” Stone said dryly. “Why don’t I take you somewhere else tonight?”
“I’m yours.”
After lunch Stone showered and went down to his office.
“Good afternoon,” Joan said pointedly.
“Don’t start. I’m still tired.”
“I won’t ask why.”
“I just didn’t get much sleep, that’s all.”
“I won’t ask why.”
“Anything happening?”
She handed him a large brown envelope. “This was hand-delivered half an hour ago.”
Stone took the envelope to his desk and opened it. Inside were two contracts, for Holly and himself. Lance hadn’t wasted much time. The employer was listed as the Woodsmoke Corporation; its address was in the Seagram building. He read Holly’s first.
It was surprisingly brief and straightforward. It guaranteed her a thousand dollars a day, or any part of a day, and deluxe travel, should she need to.
His was much the same, but he crossed out the daily fee and inserted the words “his usual hourly or daily rate.” That should keep Lance from calling on him too often.
He called Holly, and she came downstairs. “Lance has been busy,” he said, handing her the contract. “This seems all right to me. If you want to sign it, I’ll messenger it back to Lance.”
She read it and signed it. “By the way,” she said, “could you please stop being jealous of Lance?”
Stone looked shocked. “Me, jealous? Of Lance?”
“There were a couple of times last night when I thought you were going to slug him.”
Stone blushed a little. “I’m sorry if I seemed that way. I’ll work on it.”
“I should think that, after last night, you wouldn’t have anything to feel jealous about.”
Stone got up and closed the door.
“What, on the desk?” Holly asked. “There’s a bed upstairs, as I recall.”
“I just don’t want Joan to overhear this. She’s giving me a hard enough time already.”
“Oh, I was looking forward to doing it on the desk.”
“I’m already a shell of my former self,” Stone said, sitting down.
“Yeah, sure,” she said. “You’ve got a lot more mileage left in you.”
“If I have a month to rest.”
She got up and opened the door. “You’ve got until after dinner,” she said, then she went back upstairs.
Stone hoped he could recover in time. He gave the signed contracts to Joan and told her to copy and return them to Lance.
17
STONE TOOK HOLLY to the Four Seasons, because it was the most elegant New York restaurant he could think of, and because it was within walking distance.
Holly had spent the afternoon shopping and had come home with bags from Armani and Ralph Lauren, the result of which was a black Armani dress that made Stone forget he had had too much sex the night before. They settled into a good table in the Pool Room.
“What would you like to drink?” Stone asked.
“A vodka gimlet, three-to-one, straight up, shaken so cold the bartender’s fingers stick to the shaker.”
“Two,” Stone said to the waiter.
“Would you like a particular kind of vodka?” the waiter asked.
“Anything will do,” she replied. When the waiter had gone she said, “Vodka is nothing but grain alcohol that has been cut in half with water. I don’t know what the big deal is about brands. It’s not as if it’s eighteen-year-old Scotch.”
“I agree,” Stone said. “Do you always give such explicit directions when you order a drink?”
“Just with vodka gimlets,” she replied. “Bartenders never measure, and they always put too much vodka in them.”
“You’re a control freak, aren’t you?”
“Just with vodka gimlets.”
“The dress is… You make that dress look gorgeous.”
“Well put, and just in time. I thought you were going to tell me the dress makes me look gorgeous.”
“Certainly not,” said Stone, who had been about to do just that. “You don’t look like a cop at all this evening.”
“Even higher praise! You know, there just isn’t any way to look feminine in a police uniform, unless you’re wearing shorts.”
“You wear shorts?”
“We’re in Florida, remember? Actually, I don’t, but I encourage some of my female officers to.”
“Which female officers?”
“The ones who look good in shorts. It encourages tourism.”
Their drinks arrived, and they sipped them appreciatively.
“Now that’s a vodka gimlet,” Holly said. “You can tell if it’s right by the color. It should have a pretty, green tinge.”