My skin tingled as he unwrapped the towel from around me and started kneading my sore muscles in slow, steady circles—my feet, my calves, the backs of my knees.
“Mmm.” I snuggled deeper into the pillow. I was more exhausted than I’d thought. I hadn’t slept in ages, but I fought the urge to close my eyes. “Did the police pick up K.K.?”
“No. The van was gone by the time they got there. They think the two men who came after you on the train found him and let him out.”
An uneasy feeling unraveled in the pit of my stomach. The idea of K.K. running loose was unsettling. “How’s Bahati?” I asked. “Is he going to be all right?”
“He’s fine. Nothing broken.” Jack moved from my legs to my back. I was melting under his firm, sensuous strokes. “Some of the newspaper journalists got a whiff of the story and wanted an interview. He’s in the meeting room with them. Lights, cameras, the works.”
“That’s great.” I chuckled. “And Gabriel? Any leads on him?”
“I tracked down the builder who’s working on his home.” Jack warmed more lotion in his hands before rubbing it over my shoulders. “The construction has stopped because Gabriel hasn’t paid him for the next phase. I told him to contact me as soon as he hears from him. Gabriel has put a lot of money into this property. He’s not just going to abandon it.”
I lost my train of thought because Jack was stroking the sides of my neck, up and down. I was like a pendulum swinging between two states—from relaxation to arousal, and back again. As his fingers worked the knots under my skin, my eyes slid shut.
“Jack,” I mumbled, “If you don’t stop now, I’m going to fall asleep.”
“Then do it. Just let yourself drift off. You haven’t slept in ages.”
“But time . . . I want to make the most of it.” I flipped over and gazed at him.
Something clouded his expression before he blinked it away. “I don’t want to think about that. Not right now. Right now, I just want to enjoy this. This feeling. Your skin. Your hair on the pillow. Your sleepy brown eyes.”
I put my arms around his neck because I couldn’t stand the distance. “Will you do something for me?”
“Anything.” His breath was warm against my face. I couldn’t help but taste his lips.
“Will you let me comb your hair?”
He laughed, but stopped when he caught my expression. “You’re serious?”
“Sit.” I patted the edge of the bed and scooted around to kneel behind him. I picked up the comb and ran it through his wet, shoulder length hair in soft, leisurely strokes. He sat stiff and upright, unaccustomed to being looked after. He might have let his barber have a go, but that was different, and I doubted he’d had his hair cut since Lily died.
After a while, his shoulders relaxed. I continued brushing his thick, tawny strands, root to tip, gently untangling his hair in soothing, downward strokes. His head tilted back, and I smiled because his eyes were shut. Every time the teeth raked over a certain spot in the back of his head, he purred and leaned into it.
“That feels so good.”
The room turned mellow as the last rays of the sun filtered through the curtains. Warm light hit the side of Jack’s face, softening the harsh planes and angles, picking up pale highlights in his beard. He gave himself up to me, up to the tenderness of the act, the soft intimacy of it.
When I was done, he drew the sheets over us and clasped my body tightly to his. We fell asleep, naked and tangled, with no need for words or kisses, too exhausted to think of the goodbye looming over our heads.
I STIRRED AFTER dawn, when the early morning buses turned into a parade of screeching halts outside the hotel. Jack was lying on his side, one hand under his pillow, watching me through lazy, hooded eyes.
“Morning.” I smiled. His hair looked different, probably because he’d fallen asleep with it all combed out and a little wet. It had flopped over to one side, making him look like a model for a shampoo ad. Thick, lustrous, all-day volume. My smile grew wider. “You’ve been watching me sleep?”
“I’ve been stargazing.” He traced the curve of my nose with his finger.
It was rather beautiful, the way he felt like all the places I wanted to go. His arms fit perfectly around me, as though they’d been molded by a sculptor, just for me.
“What is it?” he asked, hooking his leg around mine, as I contemplated him.
“When I look at your face . . . this face . . .” I stroked my thumb over the light reflecting off his cheekbone. “I feel like this is exactly where I’m supposed to be.”
We started slow—a little drunk, a little dizzy—taking sips of honeyed bliss from dawn-colored lips. The world rolled below us—bicycle bells and newspaper boys, unaware that we were slowly setting the room on fire.
Jack stole the breath from my lungs. He dragged his lips across my hips, tasted my curves, taught me the pitch of pleasure until I was room-spinningly intoxicated with him. And in the heat of electric sighs, when our bodies turned molten and our bones dissolved, it felt like we were made from the same cluster of colliding stars. We clung to each other and sank into the sweet slumber of lovers, drifting in and out of dreams.
When Bahati called to see if we were ready to leave, we got distracted again, until he started banging on our door. The maid scurried in when we finally opened the door. It was way past checkout time.
“Coke for you. Coffee for you.” Bahati straightened and handed us the drinks. “I figured you didn’t bother with breakfast this morning. Not much sleep either, huh?” He scanned our faces and grinned. “It’s a long way back, but I’d prefer to drive the whole way myself,” he said to Jack. “I don’t want you falling asleep at the wheel. I’m going to have my photo printed in tomorrow’s paper. Things are finally looking up for me. I don’t want to die because you and Ro went at it like bonobos in the night. I mean, it’s great and all, but I just got Suzi fixed up as best as I could. A little more work when we get back and then all I have to do is put in the new leather seats you promised. Do you want to see the samples? They had crocodile skin too. Can you believe it? It’s a bit nubby. So I told them to . . .”