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She raised her head to peer at him, puzzled.
“What happened?”
“Nothing unusual,” he answered, sheepishly. “If I tell you, will you blush?”
“It depends.”
“It just occurred to me that I’m not a teenager anymore. In fact, I’m far away from those days, but I look at you, hold you close, and my body reacts as though I’m sixteen instead of forty-three,” he confessed, grinning when her cheeks pinked. “I see you know what I mean.”
He leaned in to kiss her, but since the sofa wasn’t wide enough for them to lie side by side, he slid to the floor, taking her with him. Lowering her gently on top of him, mindful at her injured knee, he kissed and caressed her, showing her how deep and intense his feelings were for her. Clothing vanished and skin to skin, they clung to one another.
“I love you,” he whispered, his voice husky, his skin slick with perspiration.
Together like this, bodies can’t lie. Linda had to know he was telling the truth. He wanted her and he knew she wanted him just as badly. They made love passionately, desperately. She gave herself to him completely, body and soul.
“I love you, too,” she whispered.
He knew she meant it with all her heart.
Chapter Thirteen
The alarm’s shrill scream pierced Gerard’s eardrums at five a.m. Monday morning. He reached to turn it off before Linda knocked the clock to the floor and smashed it.
Since their plane left at eight, they’d packed last night. After a quick shower, they had a light breakfast, then dressed casually for the plane ride. Mrs. Adams would be arriving around ten to clean the house and spend some time with Pirata.
Linda had a carry-on bag containing clothes, toiletries, and other essentials necessary for the journey, as well as a knapsack, folded inside to hold the souvenirs she expected to purchase, while he’d crammed everything including his computer into his oversized backpack. After checking the luggage once more to make sure they hadn’t forgotten anything, Gerard called and ordered a car.
They arrived at the airport in plenty of time and had another cup of coffee while they waited. By the time they boarded, they were wide awake and excited about the adventure.
It came as a surprise when Linda admitted her fear of flying.
“But you love traveling.”
“I do. I force myself to fly so I can conquer this phobia, but so far it hasn’t disappeared. It isn’t just taking off and landing. It’s the entire flight. I’m just not convinced God intended me to fly.”
After takeoff, a painful procedure as she squeezed his fingers white, Gerard prepared to distract her by talking almost non-stop during the three and a half hour flight.
“The police called me when you were in the bathroom,” he began.
She stared out the window watching the buildings get smaller and smaller. When the plane tipped gently to the side for its turn, she closed her eyes, once more squeezing his hand in her death grip.
“What did they say?” she asked, eyes still closed.
“Well, the security cameras showed a suspicious looking man in a hoodie, none of his face visible, entering the building after dark. I’ve explained to them that I’m on a business trip, but Danielle has volunteered to take a look at the images and see if she recognizes the man.”
Linda’s eyes flew open and she loosened her grip. “Oh, how very helpful of her,” she said, her voice laced with sarcasm. “Did you give her a new key to your apartment?”
Gerard fought to keep a straight face. Linda’s jealousy was unnecessary but flattering.
“I did, yes.”
“Let’s hope she takes good care of your poor fish.” She sighed. “So, even though they have an image of the potential burglar, it’s a dead end?”
“I think so. Now that they know it’s an individual, they can estimate his height and weight from that image, but unless Danielle sees something else, that’s it. Patterson assured me they would pursue all leads, but I’m not getting my hopes up. When we get back, I’ll install an alarm system.”
“That’s the best thing you can do. It was the first thing I did when I bought the house. You can never be too— Oh God!” Turbulence made the plane tremble as if it were a car traveling on an unpaved country road. Linda gripped his hand again. “Uhm… Tell me more about your friend in Romania,” she begged, puffing like a steam engine.
“I will, but you have to slow your breathing, or you’ll hyperventilate and pass out. There’s nothing wrong,chérie, just slight turbulence. Now, let me tell you about Jean-Paul. He’s almost seventy. Like my father, he was born in Paris. The two met during their mandatory military service, remained friends throughout medical school, and afterwards until my father died.”
