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He couldn t wait. It was all he could do to last until he could get the rest of his
clothes off and the condom pack opened. He had to grit his teeth at the feel of her hands
on him.
Kate!
Then he brought her astride him and thrust deeply into her, losing himself in the
intense pleasure of her body, a pleasure he could die from. He wanted to tell her how
good it was, but he couldn t.
Lost.
He was lost, and he never wanted to be found again.
Everything was happening so fast. It was going to end too quickly. He was too far
gone for restraint.
He wrapped his arms tightly around her as he reached his noisy and unrestrained
climax. She collapsed against him, spent, and he kissed whatever he could reach, his
breathing ragged, his body exhausted. When she would have moved away from him, he
kept her where she was. He didn t want it to be over. Not yet.
Not yet
She lay on top of him, and after a while he rolled her onto the bed so that she
could stretch out beside him. He brushed her hair back from her face because he wanted
to see her eyes.
They were so sad.
 I didn t hurt you, did I? he asked.  I didn t mean 
She pressed her fingertips against his lips.  You didn t hurt me.
He didn t quite believe her.
She suddenly smiled.  Well, she said, giving a long sigh.  So much for playing
hard to get.
He slept the sleep of a happy, satisfied man and he woke up cold, hungry and
alone. He didn t know where he was at first an all-too-familiar response for someone
who had fallen asleep in as many strange places as he had. But then he remembered. He
would remember for as long as he lived.
He turned over painfully so he could see the clock.
Oh-five-twenty.
Maybe she had to go in to work again, he thought, listening for some sound of her
in the house. But he would have heard the phone if it had rung, surely.
Maybe she d had second thoughts about all this and she d moved to some other
part of the house to get away from him. He managed to sit up on the side of the bed and
get his shorts on, and then to get to his feet. He had no idea what he d done with the cane.
Kitchen, maybe. That was the last place he remembered having it.
He struggled to the bathroom, and he had to hold on to the wall to get there. He
still didn t see Kate anywhere and he didn t call out to her. The cat was waiting patiently
by the door when he came out. It was clearly glad to see him, doing the ballet turns again
and then escorting him the rest of the way into the kitchen. It went directly to the kitchen
cabinet where the packets of cat food were kept.
 No way, chow hound, he said.  I know when you got fed last.
His cane was leaning against the kitchen table. He took it and walked to the back
door, then onto the patio. To his surprise the cat came with him outside a decision it
regretted almost immediately. It shot under the potting table and assumed a panicked
crouch. Kate s car was conspicuously absent from the driveway where she d left it.
Doyle stood staring at the empty spot, breathing in the cool morning air as if that
was all he d come out here for.
Okay, Kate. Now what?
Clearly she saw this situation as a one-night stand, and she was behaving
accordingly. It wasn t the first time she d disappeared when he was asleep in her house,
but the other time she d at least left some reasonably informative notes so he d have
some idea about what he was supposed to do.
So where is she?
There were no birds stirring yet. No sounds at all except an occasional vehicle
passing on a distant, more heavily traveled street. It occurred to him after a moment that
it was daylight enough for someone Mrs. Bee to see him standing outside in his
underwear. The notion didn t bother him enough to make him go back into the house.
 The cat suddenly jumped up on the table and leaned in his direction.
 What? he said, reaching out to briefly scratch its ears.  Is the coast clear now?
A sudden spasm in the muscles in his right leg caused him to grab the edge of the
table. The cat scattered, jumping at the back door as if it expected it to open like the ones
at the grocery store.
 Ah, damn! he said, bending lower. It was clear that the sudden and spectacular
resurrection of his sex life had done nothing for the rest of what ailed him. And the more
the pain escalated, the more real the prospect of yet another surgery became. Lieutenant
McGraw had come almost all the way back, but he didn t have the same kind of damage,
and Doyle might as well get adjusted to that fact. He could see the rest of his life turning
into one trip to the operating room after another. He did not want to go to damn Texas!
He leaned against the table, breathing deeply, at war with his own body,
struggling to get the upper hand. After a moment he was able to make it as far as the door
to let the still-freaked-out cat back inside.
A car pulled into the driveway, and he turned to look, still holding the door open.
Kate parked in her same spot and got out. She was wearing khaki shorts and a little white
T-shirt and carrying a white paper bag. He was immediately aware of two things how
glad he was to see her, and, unless he was very mistaken, how glad she was to see him.
More than he expected. Maybe more than she expected.
 Are you trying to upset the neighbors? she asked, gesturing toward his boxer
shorts and the neighborhood in general.
 Nah. I was hoping your sisters would drop by.
 Oh, please. I m not ready for that.
 Have you got to work today?
 No.
 Outstanding, he said.
She stopped in front of him, awkward suddenly, as if she d just found herself in
completely strange terrain and she wasn t at all sure what direction she should take. He
couldn t stop staring at her, and he couldn t stop remembering. He was remembering so
well that she suddenly blushed or he thought she did.
 I brought breakfast, she said in an attempt to hide it. She held up the bag.
 Some other time, he said, opening the door wider so she could go inside.
She didn t go, and he took the bag from her and gave it a toss. It
landed& somewhere.
 Don t you want to know what it is? she said, trying not to smile.
 Later, he assured her, propelling her inside.  I have other, more pressing
matters to take care of.
 Like what? she asked, her eyes full of mischief. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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