Kara said nothing. She knew she really hadn't come back in any true sense. But here, tonight, now, she was back. And she wanted to be with Rob.
He ran a finger up her left arm to the deltoid.
"Look at the definition. You've been working out?"
"Nautilus and aerobics."
She shivered as his finger continued over her shoulder and down to her breast where it circled the nipple. They kissed again.
"I've missed you like crazy," he whispered into her ear.
"I've missed you, too, Rob. Especially like this."
He pulled his head back and smiled at her.
"I didn't know feminist writers went in for this sort of stuff."
"We like it as much as the next person. Maybe even more."
"I suppose you want to be on top."
"You've got it."
Laughing, they made their way to the bedroom where they took turns being on top.
Eventually they ended up side by side. Kara lay with her head on his shoulder.
Rob said, "We got to try this more often. Ten years is just a tad long for a dry spell. Think we can get together again before the end of the century?"
"I think I'd like that. This was wonderful. Rob."
And she meant it. She couldn't remember the last time it had been this good. She felt relaxed, content, emotionally complete. She knew the feeling wouldn't last long, but she relished the sensation while she could. She realized how much had been missing from her life. She knew it wasn't just the orgasm, it was the intimacy. She had been avoiding intimacy since she'd left New York. It had become a pattern of behavior: Don't get to know a man well enough to allow an emotional bond to develop. Keep him at arms' length at all times. A couple of the members in one of the women's groups she belonged to had misinterpreted that and Kara had found it necessary to put them straight: She wasn't interested in a relationship with anybody. The pattern had developed into a reflex, one she'd had to suppress tonight.
She was glad she had. This was good, this was right, this was rare and precious. Snuggled against Rob, with his arm around her shoulder, she felt warm and secure, and best of all, alive.
She drifted off to sleep.
I've done it! I've sent out the warning! What a stroke of genius! What a brilliant move, even if I do say so myself!
And the swine hasn't the slightest idea what I've done. Obviously. If he did he would be raging at me. And punishing me severely.
I cannot escape punishment.
So what? That was a given when I began this little project. If he intercepts the warning, he'll make me suffer. If she receives the warning, she will show it to him, or someone else will tell him of it, and the result will be the same, although probably worse in the latter scenario.
So, whether I succeed or fail, I shall suffer dearly. The anticipation of it is worse than a sword poised over my neck, waiting to fall. Decapitation—ha! That would be a pleasure compared to what I face.
But whatever I suffer shall be worth it. Not for her sake alone. At first I thought my scheme to warn her was pure selflessness, but that's not the case. No. I'm doing this more for myself than for her. This is my Spartan uprising, my storming of the Bastille, my Boston Tea Party. With this act I put him on notice that he has not broken me.
I only hope my warning reaches her. For if it does, and if she heeds it, I will have wounded him, and he has never been wounded before. Knowing that is worth any punishment.
It should reach her by Thursday.
And then all Hell may break loose.
February 18
2:32 A.M.
Rob awoke in the dark to a delicious feeling. He had a huge erection. And it was in Kara's mouth. He groaned and arched his back as she worked her lips and tongue up and down the shaft. There'd been oral sex during their affair ten years ago, but never like this. This was fabulous. Rob closed his eyes and drifted on the pleasure.
He felt Kara's weight shift as she straightened up and straddled him. And then he was inside her and she was bucking her hips up and down, sliding him in and out of her at an ever-increasing rate. He looked up as she leaned over him, her breasts bobbing, her eyes closed, her upper lip caught between her teeth. When he reached up and ran his palms over her hard nipples she moaned and increased the tempo of her hips. Rob matched her thrust for thrust until they reached a furious pace. Finally, when he knew he could hold back no longer, Kara suddenly stopped her undulations. As he exploded within her, she straightened and stiffened and shuddered as a soft, high-pitched scream escaped through her clenched teeth. Then she collapsed beside him and they both lay there panting.
When he caught his breath, when he could speak again, Rob turned to her.
"Kara, that was fantastic. What—"
Without a word, Kara turned her back to him.
"Kara?" He propped himself up on one arm and shook her shoulder gently. "Kara?"
She was sound asleep.
Rob stared at her bare back in the darkness as a mix of feelings washed over him. He was annoyed and he was confused, but there was something else. He didn't recognize it at first. An alien feeling, a new experience: he felt… used.
Which was ridiculous. Kara didn't use people. Kara wasn't—
A thought struck him with an icy shock that sent cold tendrils writhing along his body.
Who had he just made love to? Kara… or Janine?
Rob didn't sleep the rest of the night.
▼
7:52 A.M.
Kara noticed that Rob was unusually subdued at breakfast. He'd always been a morning person. Even last week, after sleeping in a chair all night, he'd been unbearably cheery. Not today. He looked tired and seemed troubled as he leaned against the kitchen counter and sipped his coffee. Preoccupied.
Not Kara. She was up.
Two—count 'em—two nights in a row with no craziness. No writing on walls, no stunts with knives, nothing! And no sleeping pill last night.
Maybe good sex was a better medication than Halcion.
Either way, everything was beginning to fall into place. If she continued on this kind of even keel she might consider finding a therapist in Philadelphia to work this through. Between the Jefferson Medical Center and Hahnemann she was sure she could find a psychiatrist of Dr. Gates' caliber to continue her treatment. She'd mention it to him during their session today.
And it would be so good to be back in Pennsylvania. She could ship Kelly's things home and sift through them at her leisure, keeping the personal items—the yearbooks, the photos, her records, things like that— and giving the rest to a charity.
But returning to the farm meant leaving Rob. A part of her—a big part of her—didn't want to leave him. Last night had been wonderful, and waking up with him beside her had made the morning brighter. There had to be a way they could work something out.
She watched him and felt the desire rise up in her again. She wondered at that. Making love to Rob last night must have started some sort of chain reaction within her, causing her body to want to make up for all the years without him. It had been too long. She was actually sore down there. She even had a vague memory of a sex dream last night during which she'd practically raped Rob. And strangely enough, Dr. Gates seemed to have been there. A weird dream. But dreams weren't the real thing. She'd been disappointed when he got up and took a shower first thing this morning. She'd been hoping for a reprise.
"Something bothering you, Rob?"
At the sound of her voice he started and sloshed a little coffee onto the back of his hand.
"No. Everything's fine. Why?"