'Good thing you had an umbrella,' Hawke said, crossing the room and sitting in a well-worn leather club chair by the hearth. He was wearing a faded flannel shirt the color of smoke and grey pleated trousers. On his feet were a pair of scuffed leather boat moccasins he'd bought at some ship chandlery in Key West.
'Yes, isn't it?' She giggled, tugging at her wet sari.
'You look as if you barely escaped drowning in the street.'
'Ah. Well, I did actually have an umbrella, you see, but I neglected to employ it until I suddenly found myself standing at your front door, pushing your bell.'
'That would explain it,' Hawke said, smiling, though of course it didn't.
'Please forgive me for intruding, Alex. I can't really explain it, but I had this overwhelming urge to see you tonight.'
'Name a man who would not be flattered.'
'Join me in a drink?'
'No, thank you. I quit.'
'Good for you. I wish to God I could.'
'You can.'
'Well, not tonight obviously…I've been thinking about you, you know. That's silly, of course you don't know. But I have. Ever since seeing you again at Highgrove.' She gazed into the fire for a few long moments and then said, 'I felt drawn to you. The moment I saw you and then when I heard your voice again.'
'Well, we have something very much in common, don't we?'
She sighed, looking back into the crackling fire.
'We do, Alex.'
'A sad coincidence of loss.'
'Do you believe what they say? That time heals all wounds?'
'No. My mother and father were murdered before my eyes when I was seven. That event is seared into me. It feels like a steel ball in the center of my chest. Sometimes it glows red hot.'
Hawke saw a single gleaming tear roll down her cheek. She didn't bother to brush it away.
'I'm just so lost without Tony. Nothing makes much sense anymore. All my plans, my dreams. Children. A little house somewhere. Do you feel that way about her, about-'
'Anastasia.'
'Anastasia, yes, I'm sorry, such a lovely name.'
'I did for a long time. Just getting up and living through another day seemed like sheer folly. But, now, I think losing my mother, both my parents the way I did…it hardened me. Inside. Made me stronger somehow. I never felt the same way about life after they died. I looked at other boys who had their mothers, their families. I had no one. No one but me. I put my trust only in myself.'
'A lack of trust in anyone else. Or anything else.'
'Yes. That, too. And a smoldering anger at God.'
'Oh, yes.'
'You're shivering, Sahira. How rude of me. Would you like a blanket?'
'That would be lovely, thanks.'
'Splash of scotch as well?'
'Good Lord, no. I'm rarely this tipsy, you'll be relieved to learn.'
'I'll be right back.'
WHEN HAWKE RETURNED WITH THE BLANKET, Sahira hadn't moved. She was leaning toward the fire with her bare arms wrapped around her knees.
'This should do the trick,' he said, draping the woolen blanket around her shoulders. He collapsed back into his chair looking at her profile in the flickering firelight. 'Better?' he said.
'Hmm. Thanks. Much.'
'We'll find them, you know, these bloody bastards who killed Tony. Sword of Allah, for God's sake. We'll run them to ground sooner or later and put the sword to them. I promise you.'
'Yes. It helps to hear you say that. We now have a common enemy, don't we?'
'Another awful thing we have in common,' Hawke said.
'Alex, may I ask a favor?'
'Anything.'
'May I spend the night here?'
'Here?'
'Yes.'
'Are you worried about the storm? I could easily drive you home.'
'No. It's not that. I don't-don't want to be alone tonight.'
'We've certainly no shortage of guest rooms. I'll ring Pelham. He'll make sure that we-'
Hawke reached for the telephone, but Sahira reached up and stayed his hand.
'Not a guest room, Alex. I want to sleep with you, in your bed. I want to wake up in your arms. Don't worry. We don't have to do anything. I just have this overwhelming need to be close.'
'Any port in a storm, so to speak.'
'No, Alex, don't misunderstand me. I want to be close to you. I've wanted it for a long time. Ever since that first afternoon we all met, when you and Tony gloriously had your shirts off, playing rugby in Hyde Park. I never told you, of course, because of Tony.'
'Told me what, Sahira?'
'That I always wanted to be with you instead. From that first day. It's awful, I know. Don't look at me that way. I did love him very much. Adored him. He had a marvelous mind and the kindest heart. And he made me laugh, thank God, after all the bloody twits from the City. Forgive me, but this is something I had to tell you. You don't have to say anything, I wish you wouldn't, so please don't feel uncomfortable.'
'Well, Sahira, I don't-'
'And now that I've unburdened myself and told you the truth, you can drive me home if you wish. Perfectly understandable were I in your place. But I would give the earth to hold you for one night. Just one night. Easy question, yes or no.'
Hawke stared into those dark brown eyes for what seemed an eternity. He could come up with a thousand reasons why this was idiocy. But the simple and uncomplicated truth was, sitting here, looking at this beautiful woman, he discovered he wanted someone to hold too. He smiled down at her and gave his answer.
'Yes.'
She reached up and put her hand on his knee, whispering the words, 'I was praying you would say that.'
They sat like that for a long time, her hand on his knee, both staring into the fire, neither feeling the need to speak. Hawke put his hand over hers and squeezed it gently. Even this, Hawke thought, even this small comfort is something I still need. Moments like this. Anastasia would want this for me. I know she would.
'Would you mind if I shed this soaking sari?' she said suddenly. 'Even with the blanket, it's miserable.'
'What's the old joke, 'you need to get out of that wet dress and into a dry martini'?'
She got to her feet and handed him the blanket. 'Will you hold this for me a moment?'
'Of course. You'll find the loo is right-'
She put a finger to her lips and said, 'Shhh. This will only take a minute.'
And then, standing before the fire and smiling down at Hawke all the while, she began to disrobe, unwinding yards of glistening silk from her wondrous body.
'Sahira, do you really think this is a good idea?'
'I really do.'
When she was naked, standing in the shadows of the dying fire, the beautiful sari puddled at her feet, she leaned forward and put out her hand to him. The movement made her large dark-nippled breasts sway dangerously close to his lips and Hawke felt faint memory stir, as something inside him was rekindled for the first time in an eternity.
'Will you please take me to bed, Lord Hawke? It's past my bedtime.'
THE RAIN BEAT STEADILY AGAINST his bedroom windowpanes, the storm unabated, now accompanied by tumultuous thunder and sudden lightning strikes nearby that filled the high-ceilinged room with white fire. The
