“Hieronymus?” Lopez repeated. “Indeed?”
“I suddenly need some air,” I said. “Detective, would you escort me outside?”
“Not just now.” He said to Max, “Tell me more about Esther’s brave confrontation.”
Obviously intent on doing a little matchmaking, Max said enthusiastically, “Well, Lysander, who saw some of the episode from his position on the sacrificial altar—”
“Where was this Lysander?” Lopez asked, blinking.
“He says that Esther walloped Hieronymus with a cast-iron candelabra!”
“It was just a candlestick.” When Lopez gave me a dark glance, I wished I’d kept my mouth shut.
“She saved lives!” Max said.
“So this man—Lysander—was a witness?”
“If you pull out your notebook,” I said to Lopez, “you can forget about a free ticket to the show.”
“Oh, you’re going to see Sorcerer!” Max said. “Me, too! Perhaps we can go together! What night would be good for you?”
“Uh…” Lopez looked to me for help.
“Will you take me outside now?” I said to him.
“Perhaps we could have dinner together before the show,” Max said to Lopez. “Oh, unless you’re Lithuanian? I have nothing against Lithuanians, mind you, it’s just that trying to share a meal with one can be a little complicated for me.”
“Okay,” Lopez said to me. “Outside.”
“Or, no, here’s an even better idea!” Max said. “We’ll take Esther for a late supper after the show! Won’t that be nice?”
Lopez’s hand in the small of my back urged me to speed up as we crossed the floor and headed for the exit. I kept stumbling.
“Why are you only wearing one shoe?” he asked.
“I lost the other. It upsets me to talk about it.”
We passed through the curtain covering the doorway and let it drop behind us. Then he let out his breath.
“Okay, remember how I said I’d rather you stayed away from Max?” he said.
“Yes…”
“Right now, I’ll settle for you just keeping him away from me. Deal?”
“Deal.” I stepped a little closer and toyed with his tie. “So…are you off duty yet?”
“Officially. But…” He shook his head. “I caught a homicide tonight.”
“You make it sound like catching a cold.”
“So I still have to go back to the house and do all the paperwork I left lying around—”
“Heigh-ho, the glamorous life.”
“—when I found messages from you on my desk. One of which asked me to come here right away.”
“Oh.” I leaned a little closer to him. “You dropped everything for me?”
His coal-black lashes veiled his eyes. “I did.”
“That’s nice,” I said. “Even though I am a tax-paying citizen entitled to the dedicated protection of the police force.”
“What happened tonight?” he murmured, leaning a little closer to me, too.
“It doesn’t matter now. It’s over.”
His lips looked full and firm, and I really wanted to know what he tasted like.
He whispered, “You’re not going to tell me, are you?”
I whispered back, “Are you ever going to kiss me?”
He smiled a little and I felt his breath on my cheek just before our lips met. His mouth was warm, and he tasted sweet and unfamiliar, lush, tempting—and a little bit like coffee. His lips were pillowy, even richer than I’d expected, and, oh my, he knew how to use them.
“Mmm,” I said. “Mmm.”
I sank bonelessly against him and slid my arms around his neck. Deepening his kiss, he backed me up against the wall and tightened his hold on me, pressing his body all along mine. After a long, dark, spinning moment, he pulled away just enough that we could both breathe. My heart was thundering, and I felt light-headed and weak—in that good way. I clung to him as he nuzzled my hair.
Then he murmured, “Uh, Esther?”
“Hmm?”
“Why do you smell like sulfur?”
“Just kiss me again,” I whispered.
He did.
And for a little while, the whole world disappeared.
DISAPPEARING NIGHTLY
ISBN: 978-1-55254-680-2
Copyright © 2005 by Laura Resnick
Author Photo by Lee Ann Thomas
All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the editorial office, Worldwide Library, 233 Broadway, New York, NY 10279 U.S.A.
All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.
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