“How about six. I’d like a drink earlier than seven. Can we get Sandra Harrington to join us? By the way, how’s she doing?”
“I’m heading back to the embassy now to work on her problem.” Frederick’s tone made it known that Stone shouldn’t have asked that question about Sandra. Evidently, the situation was tougher for him to handle than he had expected. Frederick rose, casually taking in the surroundings. He leaned toward Stone. “Do you know anything about nuclear weaponry?”
“They make a big noise.”
With a dismissive glare, Frederick marched off across the grounds in the direction of a roofed bandstand where musicians assembled.
The sun overhead worked its way through the leaves, bringing the August afternoon heat. Over at the bandstand the musicians had begun a classical piece Stone didn’t recognize. Frederick had disappeared into the gathering spectators.
He got up and stretched, his attention caught again by the extensive lawns and shimmering flowerbeds beyond the trees. As he strolled, his mind searched for names of places and contacts he knew in South Africa. The operation was more important than he had imagined. Abdul Wahab, his adversary from France, was involved, and Frederick had him back in business.
A passing young Parisienne in a tight tank top surprised him with the look. Stone hadn’t realized he’d been walking along with a smile on his face.
Chapter Fifteen
Marshall Bunting lay face down on his bed, searching with his hand for a cool spot on the sheet. There wasn’t. Through the night he and Patience had worked over the entire king-sized bed. She lay on her back now, breathing gently, peaceful, her head turned away. The sheet had slipped off one breast. Bunting found the nipple enticing, soft and plump. His hand came up to caress it with his fingertips but stopped. He didn’t want to wake her just yet.
He carefully rolled on his back and shut his eyes. Too bad he had early meetings at the consulate. He’d like to spend the rest of the morning here in bed. He enjoyed this period after lovemaking, lying around, letting his imagination wander. At the same time, he learned a lot about his partner as the two lay naked. As if baring their bodies made it easier to bare their souls.
What would Patience’s reactions be to their lovemaking? Good God! His old flame, Valery, used to issue what amounted to formal critiques.
His eyes wouldn’t stay closed. They drifted over to the beguiling nipple. He felt a warm surge and an insisting twitch. Oh hell, he thought and turned to let his finger touch its satiny surface. Its texture changed.
A small sound came from her throat. “That’s nice.” She smiled but her eyes stayed closed. His fingers worked the nipple to a hard point, and then strayed down. Her legs opened. She sighed, and flipped over, and in one motion straddled him.
It was pretty quick. She clutched and dug in her nails when she came, but she wasn’t a screamer. She collapsed on him, then slipped off and turned on her back with a soft laugh.
He smiled. He hadn’t been laid like this since when? Ever? Patience gazed at the ceiling, around the room, finally coming to rest on his face. “Hello there.” She slid out of bed and made a beeline for the bathroom. “Don’t go away. Be right back.”
He admired her body as she scampered out the door. Long legs, great ass, and other dimensions he’d always been partial to. A few moments later, she hurried back, jumped into the bed, and pulled the sheets up halfway. With chin resting on her raised hand, she announced, “I think everything unfolded quite well last night. Are you satisfied as well?”
Bunting broke up in laughter and slid close to her and ran his hands through her black hair. He gave her a soft kiss on the lips. “Now, my dear, are we speaking about the great dinner reception we put on for those visiting Washington congressmen?”
She ran her finger from his forehead down the length of his nose. She drew back and looked up. “Mind you, I don’t do this sort of thing as a matter of course.”
“Hosting a splendid dinner, or having wild sex with me?”
She didn’t answer, just gazed at him with her sparkling blue eyes. A moment passed and her expression changed. “What time is it?”
“About seven.”
“Bloody hell! I’ve got to get home and get myself ready for the council meeting downtown.” She jumped out of bed and began looking for her clothes.
“Take a shower here and I’ll get us some breakfast.”
Bunting found his robe and relaxed in the chaise, listening to messages on his cell phone. The butler brought breakfast on a large silver tray — scrambled eggs, rolls, juice, and rich coffee. Patience called from the shower asking for shampoo, and the man barely suppressed a smile as he set the tray down on the table. He poured Bunting a cup of coffee and discreetly left the room.
Last night’s tryst had come as a complete surprise. Of course, he had made his normal seductive moves, more out of fun engaging in the chase than expecting a conquest. He had learned years ago not to expect to always grab the victory torch. Fact of the matter, it was when the object of a quest suddenly agreed, or better still, surprised the hell out of him by unexpectedly dropping her drawers, he became lightheaded — in that confused way that men experience as they hurry to slide their zipper down.
He thought back at the previous night’s events. The last guest had departed the mansion and his household staff had started the cleanup to be finished the next day. He had taken Patience in his arms and kissed her, thanking her for helping him out with the reception. They moved from inside the mansion to the outside portico and had brandies. She drained her glass, looked up at the Southern Cross in the clear sky, said that she was too tired to drive home, and said it was time to go to bed. Just like that!
In bed, she showed no sign of being tired. She clutched, nibbled, scratched, and wouldn’t let go of him whether they were on the bed or after they had fallen to the floor. Somehow, during their journey around the bedroom, they found themselves on the French embroidered loveseat. By this time, after two serious coital encounters, Bunting was hoping for time to refill, but she was impatient for more. Taking him in her hand, she repeatedly squeezed as she blew and licked his ear. Her persistent efforts along with his breathing in her body scents of sandalwood and musk proved fruitful, and they had one last spasm of love.
He was smiling to himself as Patience burst from the bathroom, claiming she had time for only coffee. Eyeing the breakfast spread, she announced she’d have some eggs. After talking about the traffic she would encounter going into the city, Bunting asked matter-of-factly if she heard anything new about Dawid van Wartt or Abdul Wahab.
“For some reason, you appear obsessed by those men.”
Bunting paused; perhaps he was revealing more information than he could possibly obtain from her. “Maybe I just don’t understand the South African social milieu. Van Wartt dealing with this man Abdul Wahab doesn’t make sense. I only inquire because Van Wartt had sent me that invitation to attend his function two weeks ago.”
“In your capacity as ambassador, you must receive many strange invitations.”
“Yes, but enough of that. Let’s talk about you. I want to know everything about you.”
She looked at her watch. “Perhaps later? I must be going.”
“Will I see you tonight?”
The question appeared to catch her off guard. Carefully placing her cup on the delicate china saucer, she said, “Yes, but …”
“I’ll pick you up and we’ll have dinner at a quiet place.”