shoulderblade to just behind her ear “—write another, and let me play the hero—”
“Have you any—suggestions?” she replied, finding it difficult to reply when his mouth followed where his finger had been.
“In that ‘Burning Passions’ series, perhaps?”
She pushed him away, laughing. “The soft-core porn for housewives? Andre, you can’t be serious!”
“Never more.” He pulled her back. “Think of how much enjoyable the research would be—”
She grabbed his hand again before it could resume its explorations. “Aren’t we supposed to be resting?”
He stopped for a moment, and his face and eyes were deadly serious. “
“No,” she admitted. “I always sleep like a rock when you get done with me.”
“Well then. And I—I have needs; I have not tended to those needs for too long, if I am to have full strength, and I should not care to meet this creature at less than that.”
“Excuses, excuses—” She briefly contemplated getting up long enough to take care of the lights—then decided a little waste of energy was worth it, and extinguished them with a thought. “C’mere, you—let’s do some research.”
He laughed deep in his throat as they reached for one another with the same eager hunger.
She woke late the next morning—so late that in a half hour it would have been “afternoon”—and lay quietly for a long, contented moment before wriggling out of the tumble of bedclothes and Andre. No fear of waking him— he wouldn’t rouse until the sun went down. She arranged him a bit more comfortably and tucked him in, thinking that he looked absurdly young with his hair all rumpled and those long, dark lashes of his lying against his cheek— he looked much better this morning, now that she was in a position to pay attention. Last night he’d been pretty pale and hungry-thin. She shook her head over him. Someday his gallantry was going to get him into trouble. “Idiot—” she whispered, touching his forehead, “—all you ever have to do is
But there were other things to take care of—and to think of. A fight to get ready for; and she had a premonition it wasn’t going to be an easy one.
So she showered and changed into a leotard, and took herself into her barren studio at the back of the apartment to run through her
Without knowing what it was she was to face, that was all she could do, really—that, and have a really good dinner—
She showered and changed again into a bright red sweatsuit and was just finishing that dinner when the sun set and Andre strolled into the white-painted kitchen, shirtless, and blinking sleepily.
She gulped the last bite of her liver and waggled her fingers at him. “If you want a shower, you’d better get a fast one—I want to get in place before he comes out for the night.”
He sighed happily over the prospect of a hot shower. “The perfect way to start one’s—day.
She showed her teeth. “Don’t count your chickens, kiddo. I can be very nasty!”
“
She saw his expression and abruptly stopped teasing. “Andre—please don’t say it—I can’t give you any better answer now than I could when you first asked—if I—cared for you as more than a friend.”
He sighed again, less happily. “Then I will say no more, because you wish it—but—what of this notion—would you permit me to stay with you? No more than that. I could be of some use to you, I think, and I would take nothing from you that you did not offer first. I do not like it that you are so much alone. It did not matter when we first met, but you are collecting powerful enemies,
“I—” She wouldn’t look at him, but only at her hands, clenched white-knuckled on the table.
“Unless there are others—” he prompted, hesitantly.
“No—no, there isn’t anyone but you.” She sat in silence for a moment, then glanced back up at him with one
