Thomas Perry - Shadow Woman

“A small, neatly inscribed thank-you note would have been more than sufficient, but the food is wonderful,” he said.

She tasted it too. “It turned out okay. I gave myself a tour of the house while you were out. When I got a good look at the kitchen, I figured I’d have to take this seriously if I was going to give you what you were used to.”

“Well, thank you. You really know how to cook. You must like to.”

She shook her head. “I hate it. I learned because men like to eat, and I like men.”

He hurried to change the subject. “I just remembered that I saw your car in the driveway. Did everything go all right?”

She shrugged. “It was pretty much what you said in the morning. They were there all the time. The man I paid the ransom for my car said they don’t always hear the phone ringing from outside.”

“How much was it?”

“Three hundred. Isn’t that outrageous? A hundred for towing the car down there, and two hundred for the fine. And they don’t take credit cards.”

Carey said, “I feel terrible. It was partly my fault. I’d like to pay for it.” He had a strong impulse to make all accounts even, so the give-and-take would stop.

Her amused look returned. “That’s very chivalrous. But it’s not the money, it’s the effrontery.” She seemed to realize something that hadn’t occurred to her before. “And anyway, the whole point of the evening was to get out and meet people, and I guess it served its purpose. I met a lot of people, and made one friend.”

He gave a noncommittal smile and a little nod. He tried to decide why the idea made him so uncomfortable. Maybe living in a small city all his life had made him conservative and timid about meeting new people, but he had known Susan Haynes little more than twenty-four hours. The word “friend” sounded premature, almost presumptuous.

There was also an element of danger in it that he did not find appealing. She was enormously attractive, and her conversation always had a sexual edge to it that seemed uncalculated but that his common sense told him could not be. It wasn’t entirely clear whether she was overtly tempting him or treating him as though he were asexual. Maybe she was just behaving with a kind of adult openness that he had become entitled to as a married man, and he wasn’t used to it yet. Maybe when you were happily married, women simply accepted you as safely ineligible for sexual relationships and became less guarded. But it was difficult to imagine a friendship with Susan Haynes extending into the future. Conversations would be full of tension and ambiguity. He suspected that Jane would take one look at her, listen to about three sentences, and announce that she hated her.

Carey realized that the silence had gone on for too long. “Did you make more progress in getting settled today, or just slave over a hot stove?”

“Not much progress. I spent most of the day thinking about you.”

“Oh?” Trouble.

“Oh?” she mocked. “As if you weren’t thinking about me.”

He decided he had better not evade that one. “To be honest with you, over the years I’ve gotten to be pretty good at keeping my mind focused on my work during the day. I find I lose fewer patients that way.”

“I’m sorry,” she said. She shook her head and stared down at her lap. “I’m doing it again. It’s like a reflex. I guess that’s why I couldn’t get you out of my mind—you’re the witness to my gaffe. I made such a mess of things last night. It was completely unfair.”

He noticed that Susan had stopped eating some time ago, and he had eaten as much as he wanted. “What was unfair?”

She smiled apologetically and shrugged, then looked at him from behind a strand of blond hair. “Sometimes when you meet somebody—even though you like them, or maybe because you like them—you start off wrong, and just keep going that way. You know it isn’t the way you want to be with them, but somehow you can’t figure out how to stop and start all over again. What I should have done last night was have a pleasant dinner with you, then call a cab and go home.”

He silently agreed with her. He fervently wished he had made some excuse and called her a cab. “I really didn’t mind giving you a ride,” Carey lied. “None of this was any trouble at all.”

“Of course you minded,” said Susan. “I was being childish last night. Teasing you, instead of being honest and direct. So now I’m trying to start all over again.”

“I don’t even know what you mean,” said Carey.

Her smile was beautiful, a little embarrassed. “Let’s just say that I didn’t really need your help undressing last night.”

Carey felt his collar tighten as the blood rushed up to his head. He nodded. “I see.” He had to find a way to end this. “Forget it,” he said. “I admire your sensitivity very much. And I’m in awe of your honesty. Now we’re more than even. And I really appreciate the wonderful dinner. I had almost forgotten how hungry I was until I was here. Thanks a lot.”

Susan stood up and stepped toward the door of the dining room, carrying her glass. She stopped and looked back at him. “Is it time for a new start?”

“Absolutely,” he answered. Anything to get past this. He picked up his glass and followed her into the living room.

She sat down on the couch by the fireplace. He hesitated, then chose the easy chair on the opposite side, ten feet from her. He took a sip of his drink and glanced back at the dining room.

“Don’t worry about the dishes,” she said. She stood up and slipped the sweatshirt over her head and off. “I’ll do them in the morning.” She was wearing a black lace bra that made her white skin look somehow more bare than it should have.

He suddenly realized that he was gaping. He shook his head. “No,” he said. “That isn’t what I meant.”

“We’re being honest now, Carey,” she said. “You wanted me last night. If you hadn’t, then nothing I did would have made the slightest difference.”

“I think you misunderstood,” he said. “Or maybe I did.”

She unbuttoned the jeans, slipped them down, and stepped out of them. More black lace, more smooth, milky skin. “I’m making up for teasing you last night. I’m not teasing now.”

“Hold it,” he said. “Could you please stop taking your clothes off for a minute and let me talk?” He took a deep breath. “I’m married.”

“So am I.” The full lips formed themselves into the reserved smile he had seen when he met her. “You’re looking, though, aren’t you?”

“It’s hard not to.”

She seemed to take this as permission to continue. She unhooked the black bra and slipped it off. Her breasts were round and full, whiter even than the rest of her, and the nipples were like rosebuds. She saw the alarm in his eyes and her voice went lower, almost a whisper. “It’s okay. It’s perfectly okay.”

“No,” said Carey. “It isn’t okay.” He resolutely kept his eyes on hers, but her eyes were teasing him now. “This isn’t what I want. This could wreck my life.”

She smirked, confidently aware that her nudity was power, and words were only a way of keeping him faced in her direction. “No, it couldn’t. I’m married too, and that’s what makes it perfect. You don’t have to remember my birthday, and I don’t have to entertain your poker buddies. My husband and your wife are thousands of miles away. Tonight, we can do anything, and it’s free. There are no possible consequences.”

“Your marriage may be ending, but mine’s just beginning. I love my wife.”

She smiled at him again. Her hands had moved to the waistband of the panties, and as she spoke, her thumbs hooked over it and began to slide slowly along the inner side of the elastic, toward her hips. “Good for you,” she said. “I’m sure she’ll be panting for you when she’s here—just as I am—but tonight she’s not. So this doesn’t take away anything of hers. This is just for fun. To be alone together in this house and not do it would be unnatural.” Her smile disappeared. Her eyes lowered, she bent toward him slightly to slip the panties down past her hips, then stepped out of them, naked.