“So we’ve got Ohira interested in this spot, plus a nonexistent Takagi salvage ship nosing around,” Cahil said. “What the hell could be out there?”
“Don’t know. Maybe they lost something; maybe they found something. Whatever it is, it makes me wonder why Noboru followed me to the village. Was it me, or the location?”
“That is a good question,” Cahil said with a grin. “So when do we go?”
16
Fayyad checked the chicken alfredo to make sure it was simmering properly, then went into the living room and turned on the stereo. He selected a CD — Vivaldi’s Four Seasons—and hit Play. Strains of music filled the apartment. He scanned the dining table to make sure everything was ready for her arrival.
She had called the day before. “Are you at home?” he asked.
“No, no, darling, I’m at a pay phone.”
Good girl. “I’m glad you called.”
“How could I not? You’re all I can think about. When can I see you?”
“Tomorrow night. I will cook for you.”
“That sounds wonderful.”
Fayyad gave her directions and hung up. It rang again immediately.
“Is Heloise home?” said the voice.
“Who?”
“I’m sorry, I think I have the wrong number. I was dialing five four two eight.”
“No, sorry, wrong number.”
Fayyad frowned. Why were they contacting him now? It wasn’t scheduled for another four days. From a compartment in the jamb of his bedroom door, Fayyad retrieved a sheet of paper and matched 5428 to a safe-call location.
He drove to the phone booth, dialed, and waited as the overseas operator connected him. The number’s prefix told him it was Larnaca, Cyprus. A minute later, Mustafa al-Baz’s voice came on the line.
“Give me a report,” al-Baz said.
Fayyad said, “The next contact wasn’t due until—”
“I am aware of the schedule. Give me a report.”
Fayyad did so, then mentioned his dinner with Judith the next evening.
“Judith, now, is it? Enjoying our work, I see.”
Fayyad clenched the phone. “Why have you called me?”
“Things are not moving quickly enough.”
“Not quickly enough? What—”
“You are taking too long. Bed the whore and get on with it.”
Fayyad felt his face flush. Motherless bastard! She is not a… What in Allah’s name was he doing? Focus… think! Al-Baz was clearly agitated. Why? What was their hurry?
Fayyad had run dozens of honey traps, and this one was proceeding with amazing speed. Soon he would move to the next phase. The senator was likely to react badly, he knew, but how badly? And how fast could he get results? If not fast enough, Fayyad asked himself, what were the consequences for al-Baz — and for him? There were three options, he decided. Either they would abandon the operation, allow him to continue at his own discretion, or demand drastic measures.
“I will move forward in a few days,” Fayyad said. “I don’t dare go any faster.”
“Just do it, Ibrahim,” al-Baz ordered. “Quickly.”
Fayyad forced the call from his mind, checked to ensure the bedroom was prepared, then returned to the kitchen and opened the wine.
Judith’s hands shook on the steering wheel as she pulled beside the condo, an expensive ranch-style fronted by hibiscus hedges and plumeria-draped eaves.
Arranging the evening had been easy. Herb was working late on some committee finding, which really meant he was at his little bimbo’s apartment. Though Judith had long ago ceased being jealous, the humiliation still stung. Acquaintances no longer spoke her name without preceding it with “poor” or “too bad about.”
Well, not anymore, she thought.
She tingled with anticipation. It couldn’t be wrong, she told herself, not the way it felt. She took a deep breath—Leap, Judith! — then checked her makeup in the rearview mirror, took one last look at her dress — a black strapless Givenchy — got out, and walked up the path.
She rang the bell. The door opened. Paolo stood there, staring at her, not smiling. Oh no, she thought, what—
“Judith… My lord, Judith, you look stunning.” He extended his hand, drew her into the foyer, and shut the door.
“Is that Vivaldi?” she asked.
“Yes.”
“I love Vivaldi.”
“I thought you might.”
She melted into his arms and pressed her face against his chest and inhaled his musk. “Oh, I’m glad I came.”
Over dinner they talked very little, simply watching one another in the flickering candlelight. Afterward, they sat together on the couch, sipping wine and listening to Mendelssohn’s A Midsummer Night’s Dream. It was a fitting choice, Judith thought. This felt like a dream. She felt her inhibitions slipping away. She wondered what they would feel like together.
After a time, he put on some Mancini and asked her to dance. As they moved, everywhere their bodies touched, she tingled. God, the way he held her… moved his hips against hers, his hand pressed into the small of her back, eyes fixed on hers, his lips at her throat…
She was breathing faster now, pressing against him, feeling his hardness pressing back. “Paolo, I… it’s been so long for me, I don’t…”
“Shhh, Judith. Don’t say a word.”
Once in the bedroom, he took gentle command of her.
They stood kissing for a time, and then, turning her, he lifted her hair and kissed the nape of her neck, one hand resting on her stomach, the other unzipping the dress and letting it slide away. She wore a black lace bra and matching panties, both newly purchased. He turned her again. Judith watched his eyes wander up and down her body and was suddenly embarrassed. He gently lifted her chin and grazed his fingertips along her jawline, down to her shoulders. His touch left gooseflesh.
Judith leaned her head back and closed her eyes.
His hands glided over the slope of her breasts and down her flanks to her hips.
Judith moaned. “Oh, God…” Never had a man done this before… taken such care and time.
He undid the front clasp of her bra, and her breasts fell free, heavy and flushed. He did not touch them, instead kneeling at her feet and carefully removing her panties, kissing her belly as he did so. He stood again and gently cupped her breasts — adoringly, she thought — his thumbs grazing and circling, grazing and circling. Very slowly, he leaned down and touched his tongue to her left nipple.
“Ohhh!”
A shiver of electricity shot through her. She cradled his head as he took the other nipple in his mouth and bit ever so gently. Judith’s knees buckled beneath her. He caught her and swept her into the air.
Once she was laid out on the bed, he stood beside it and undressed. Judith watched him, transfixed. When he was fully naked, she couldn’t help but stare. “Oh, my. Is that for me?”
He smiled. “Si, Judith. All for you.”
He lay down with her. She could feel his hardness pressing against her belly. She parted her legs, ready for him, wanting him, and was surprised at what he did next. He kissed her breasts, then trailed his tongue down to her belly, her thighs. And then inward. Oh, my God, he’s not going to… down there? She had read about this in Harold Robbins novels, but certainly it wasn’t something real people did.