Stone half smiled and shook his head. “I’m keeping her.”
“She isn’t a pet.”
“Oh, she is. Such a little pet.” If Mimi wasn’t mistaken, that smile was almost a sneer. “Don’t look so shocked. I mean it affectionately. Of course.”
“You’d better treat her right, Stone.”
“Or? Oh, don’t worry. I will. I’ll treat her right. Just the way she wants to be treated.”
Mimi had to concede defeat. There was nothing she could do against the peculiar power Stone radiated. Her only chance now was to see that he didn’t manage to cut her out of Anna’s life. If she could just keep contact with her friend, perhaps there was some hope.
“Good,” she said, breathing out, feigning relief. “That was all I wanted to know, Mr. Stone.”
“Call me John. Please.”
“I care deeply for Anna, and I wanted to be sure that you did too. We both want what’s best for her. Can we shake hands on that?”
He eyed her at a slant, clearly suspicious, but eventually decided to take the easy, nonconfrontational route she suggested, accepting her hand and pumping it earnestly. “I’m glad you see it that way.”
“Will Anna be back at work tomorrow?”
“I’m not sure. She’s very tired.” The wicked glint returned to his eye and Mimi shuddered, picturing for a second Stone on top of Anna, an insatiable satyr draining every vestige of energy from her. “Let’s leave that up to her, shall we? And now I really must be going. I have an appointment with a jeweller. Goodbye, Mimi.”
Mimi gasped and half rose from her seat, contemplating pursuit, but he was already away, threading through the lunchtime crowd, towards the door and then off in the direction of Hatton Garden.
“My darling.”
He woke her with a soft stroke of her brow. She put a hand up to her forehead, thinking that her own hair had created the sensation, forgetful of where she was or who might be with her for as long as it took her eyes to clear and the fog to dissipate from her brain. Then the crinkled golden brown eyes and the beloved smile appeared through the haze, like beacons, bringing her home to the man she loved. She felt almost guilty for leaving him, even though it had only been in sleep, as if she had been unfaithful in some way.
“My dream girl.”
“Oh, John.” She tried to speak, but her voice was heavy and cracked. She had been dozing and drifting all day, and she didn’t feel quite connected with reality. It was as if John had taken her to a different place, a realm of the senses, and nothing mundane existed anymore. It was the effect of all the sleep and the sex, she was sure, but it was pleasant, in a drugged sort of way. “I’m so glad you’re back. I missed you.”
She submitted to his kiss, a gentle one for him, and struggled to sit up.
“Didn’t you see me in your dreams?” he asked, pretending disappointment.
“Oh…I expect I did.” She twisted her ankles and wrists, trying to bring her body back to her. It seemed to have floated away while she slept. “Did you have a good day?”
“Hmm. Yes. Productive. Interesting. But I preferred the night.” He slid an arm around her shoulder and arranged her so that her legs rested over his lap. Their foreheads touched and he pressed a finger to her lower lip, dragging it down. “Didn’t you?”
She giggled, blushing. “If every night’s going to be like that, I need to get to the gym more often.”
“You don’t need to go to the gym. I have a gym here.” His hand felt so good on her neck, so warm and strong. She reclined her head, like a cat being fussed over, nuzzling him. “And besides, sex is the best exercise there is. The way to get more stamina is to just keep doing it.”
“Oh yeah?” She buried her face in his fingers, too coy to look at his seductive smirk.
“Oh yeah, Miss Rice. It’s a scientific fact. So perhaps you should take off that shirt of mine and prepare for your workout.” The hand was kneading her shoulders now, underneath the creased cotton of the shirt, and his lips found the hollow of her nape and caressed it, teasing, finding every nerve ending there as surely as if they had access to a map.
“Oh, God, John. But I’m sore…it’d hurt… But oh God. Oh John.”
“It won’t hurt. I promise you.”
“John, I…”
She let him lay her on her back, removing the shirt as she descended into the bank of pillows.
“Your nipples look sore,” he commented, and it was true that they had been throbbing all day, but as soon as he touched them, she found that the electrical impulses generated by his fingertips cancelled out the pain. “Are they?”