Insatiable

The envelope had the word Meena written across it in elegant, slightly old-fashioned

handwriting that she instantly recognized as Lucien’s, although she’d never actually seen his

writing.

“What’s Mr. Big Pants got to say for himself?” Jon asked crabbily. Meena supposed he

was jealous because he’d never gotten anything as tasteful and elegant for any of his exgirlfriends. She thought she recalled his having bought one of them a bracelet at Tiffany once,

only to have her break up with him when she found out he’d bought the exact same bracelet for

their mother for Christmas.

Meena put the bag down and ran a nail beneath the fold of the envelope. She pulled out a

piece of ivory stationery.

My darling Meena, he’d written.

She smiled. She’d never been called my darling by anyone before.

Every moment away from you feels like time spent in a

sort of cell. I can think of nothing, dream of nothing, but

you. Unfortunately, I will have to remain in my self-inflicted

prison a bit longer, since work will keep me from meeting

you tonight. I can’t seem to find a way to avoid

this…however, I hope this gift will make up for my

unforgivable behavior. I saw this and thought of you, and St.

George. You have slain the dragon.

Until we meet again, I am your Lucien

Meena read the note once and then another time.

Then her eyes filled, once more, with tears. “He’s not coming,” she said to no one in

particular.

Jon stared at her. “Wait…you mean to the concert tonight?”

She nodded, not looking at him. She let the note flutter to the floor.

“He’s not coming,” she said again.

Then she turned and walked over to the armchair where she’d been curled up a little

while earlier, not writing, and collapsed into it, the tulle skirt of Mary Lou’s Givenchy dress

puffing up all around her.

Jon bent to pick up the note.

“Wait,” he said. “Are you crying ?”

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” Meena said miserably, lifting her knees and

hugging them to her chest.

“Well, don’t cry all over the countess’s dress,” Jon advised her. “She’ll probably make

you pay for the dry cleaning.” He read the note. “‘ You have slain the dragon ’? What the hell

does that mean? How big is this guy’s dick, anyway?”

Meena dropped her forehead down onto her knees and started to cry. “Don’t be coarse,”

she said.

“Holy crap,” she heard her brother say in some alarm. “Don’t cry, Meen. I know you’ve

had a bad week, but he’s not breaking up with you. He’s just got to work. He’ll probably see

you tomorrow. I mean, for Christ’s sake. He sent you a really nice note. And a purse.”

“It’s not a purse, it’s a tote. And that’s just it,” Meena said, lifting her tear-stained face.

“I never told him.”

“You never told him what?” Jon asked, coming to sit on the arm of the chair after he’d

pushed some of the tulle out of the way.

“I never told him about it,” Meena said. “I’ve been wanting that purse—I mean tote—

forever. But we can’t afford it. And I never told him. It’s like…” Her voice dropped to a

whisper. “It’s like he read my mind.”

Jon raised his eyebrows. “Well,” he said drily. “I could see how that would be upsetting

for someone who’s been doing just that to people for fifteen years or so herself.”

“Shut up,” Meena said, unable to keep from laughing a little.

“No,” Jon said. “Really. It must be a real blow to your ego to have to admit there might

be someone else out there who can do what you do. Oh, wait…no, never mind. The prince

can’t tell when people are going to die. He just has the psychic ability to know what handbag

his girlfriend secretly lusts after.”

Meena reached up to wipe her eyes. “You’re not funny,” she said.

“Then why are you laughing?” he asked.

“Okay,” Meena said with a sigh. “Maybe I overreacted. But it’s pretty weird. You have

to admit.”

“I think the fact that you spent the night having sex with a prince is pretty weird,” Jon

said. “But who am I to judge? So, since you’re going to be home tonight…Chinese food and a

DVD?”

Meena smiled. She still felt shaken.

Shaken to her core, actually.

But it was good to have Jon around to ground her.

“Sounds good,” she said.

“Great.” Jon gave her knee a pat through some of the tulle. “I’ll walk over to the video

store and pick something out. As a compromise, I’ll get something with a romance where stuff

also gets blown up. Moo shu sound good? I’ll get garlic chicken, too, for a change. Come on,

Jack.” He slapped his thigh, and Jack Bauer, delighted, scrambled after him as he walked

toward the wall for the dog’s leash. “We’ll be back in a bit.”

Meena, smiling—though still a little shakily—got up from the armchair and, after Jon

and her dog had gone, unzipped Mary Lou’s dress, stepped out of it, and hung it carefully back

on the hanger in her closet. She would, she supposed, get some other chance to wear it. It

wasn’t such a terrible thing.

She picked up the note Lucien had written to her and read it again. It made her smile and

made her heart beat a little faster.

You have slain the dragon. She didn’t understand what it meant either.

But she liked it.

She decided to take another shower and wash off all the makeup she’d put on—not to

mention the perfume. No sense wasting it on Jon. She’d wiggled out of her pantyhose and was

padding barefoot over to the bathroom to turn the water on and take off her sexy black slip and

panties—she definitely wasn’t suffering through those all night if she didn’t have to—when the

buzzer on the intercom rang again.

What was this? Grand Central?

She picked up the receiver. “Hello?”

“Hello, Miss Harper,” Roger said. “Delivery.”

“ Again? ” Meena said. “I didn’t order anything, Roger.”

“I know, Miss Harper,” Roger said. “These are flowers. From Mr. Antonescu, the

deliveryman says. Not Mr. Antonescu in 11A, but your friend Mr. Antonescu. You know, from

the party last night.”

Meena smiled. So much for keeping the doormen in the building from knowing

everything about her personal life. “Send him up, Roger,” she said, and put down the receiver.

Flowers and the bag? Lucien already had her heart. He didn’t have to keep trying to win

it.

She went to her purse and looked in her wallet for a tip for the flower deliveryman. She

didn’t have any small bills left. She’d have to see if the flower guy had any change.

You have slain the dragon .

What did it mean?

Before she had a chance to slip on a robe, Meena heard a sound outside her door. She

looked out the peephole. There they were. Red roses. A huge bouquet of them.

Her heart swelled. He was crazy. And too extravagant.

Yes, he was a prince.

But this was too much.

Meena unlocked the door and opened it a crack.

“Thanks so much,” she said to the flower deliveryman. “Do you have change for a ten?”

That was when he lowered the roses away from his face.

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