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.“Have you been to see your boss yet?” Grant’s question came out in a laid-back way, as satiated-sounding as she felt.He lay beside her, smoking a thin, smelly French cigarette, with the saucer he used as an ashtray balanced on his flat stomach.Joanna wanted to tell him to put the cigarette out, but it was just too much effort.She’d had more sex in the last few months than she’d had in her entire life.“He’s in Germany,” she pointed out lazily, stroking his calf with her foot.It was early afternoon, and instead of being downstairs diligently working to pull this project together, she was up in her room.Drinking wine and having sex with her lover.Her lips curled down.What was her world coming to?“We could teleport together,” he offered, taking a drag and blowing out a cloud of thick smoke.“I don’t want you to go alone, darling.”If she went alone, and somehow another wizard discovered that she’d teleported, there would be a lot of questions asked, Joanna knew.Grant would get into a great deal of trouble with the Council if it was discovered that he’d gifted her with extra powers.Halves couldn’t teleport.Besides being nervous that someone would catch her doing it, shimmering gave her a headache.It was an acquired skill.The fact that Grant had given her the power was sweet and loving.And was another small sign of how much they loved one another.The trust they shared.Her stomach tensed as she remembered going back in to speak with Henry, once she’d realized that she didn’t have a vital bit of technical information for the thermal blanket.Henry frequently forgot to document his work, and it was common for one of them to have to ask him for something they needed.Just as she’d been asking Henry for the information, he’d collapsed.It had frightened her on more than one level.The kidnappers wanted the technology for the thermal blanket in exchange for her son’s life.And by God she was going to give them what they wanted.A rare surge of emotion made her lightheaded, or maybe it was the stink of the cigarette.“There’s nothing I can do for Henry.” She swung her legs over the side of the bed and slipped on a flannel robe.“The person I want to see is Casey.”Grant blew out a smoke ring.“I know.Believe me, I want your son to be safe, just as much as you do.”Her heart ached as she heard the sincerity in his voice.“The thermal blanket will be here first thing in the morning.” She crossed to a small table to pour herself another half glass of wine.Grant’s dark suit hung on the outside of her closet door.He was very particular about his clothing.She picked a speck of lint off his pale yellow shirt and said over her shoulder, “Henry would want me to be here to oversee the placement.More important, I don’t want to take the chance of missing a call.”She held up the almost empty bottle of wine.Grant nodded, grinding out his cigarette on the plate before placing it on the bedside table.He was ready to make love again, she saw.As much as she loved him, kissing him after he smoked those vile things was like licking an ashtray.Besides, she was already sore in embarrassing places.“I’m sorry I asked about him.You’re stressed out enough without feeling guilty over not visiting your mentor.” He held out his hand.“Come here, baby.I’ll give you a massage, just the way you like it.That will relax you.”And maybe, she thought, padding back to bed, glass and bottle in hand, it didn’t matter what he tasted like.He loved her more than any man ever had.They would do anything for one another.She knew that.God.She was so, so lucky to have him.She handed Grant the bottle, left her glass on the side table, and slid across the tangled sheets beside him.As it always did when she was near him, her irritability dissolved within seconds.She remembered that it had been there, but only on a cerebral level.It was as if there was a barrier between herself and her emotions.Whatever it was.Love.Stress.Insanity for all she knew, Grant kept her on an even keel, and right now she needed him.Tucking her against his body, he sipped his wine.“Do you think a person in a comatose state can hear someone talking to them?” he mused, stroking her arm.His touch was hypnotic, and the glass of wine she’d drunk earlier had made her sleepy.“I don’t know.” She didn’t want to think of Henry Morgan trapped inside his body, able to hear, but not capable of responding.It would be like being buried alive.Was this her way to cope with depression? Had she somehow learned to disconnect from her emotions? Joanna wondered about it, not terribly worried one way or another.As Grant petted her, she rested her head in the hollow of his shoulder, and closed her eyes.Then laid her hand on his smooth, sleek chest and stroked his cool skin [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]