The Last Assassin Read Free Page B

even hate?
    I walked closer and paused, just a few feet behind her. I wanted to see whether she might sense my presence. Delilah’s antennae were as sensitive as any I’ve known, but on the other hand there aren’t many people who can move as quietly as I can.
    I waited a few seconds. She didn’t notice me.
    “Hey,” I said softly.
    She sat up and turned toward me, then pulled off the sunglasses and broke into a gorgeous smile.
    “Hey,” she said.
    “I’ve been standing here awhile. I thought you’d notice.”
    Her smile lingered. “Maybe I was just indulging you. I know you like to feel stealthy.”
    She stood up and gave me a long, tight hug. I caught a hint of the perfume she wore, a scent I’ve encountered nowhere else and that I will always equate with her.
    There were people around, but we were suddenly kissing passionately. It was always like this when we’d been apart for a while, and sometimes even when we hadn’t been. There was just something about the two of us that wouldn’t let us keep our hands off each other. Whatever it was, sometimes it was overpowering.
    I had to sit down on the lounge chair before the condition she had caused attracted further attention. She laughed, knowing exactly why I had broken the embrace, and sat down next to me, her hand on my leg.
    “How long have you been here?” she asked.
    “I just arrived a few minutes ago.”
    “Not the hotel. The city. Barcelona.”
    I paused, then admitted, “A few days.”
    She shook her head. “What a waste. I could have gotten here earlier, you know. But I knew you’d want to have a look around alone first.”
    “Guess I’m getting predictable.”
    “I understand. I’m just worried I’ll have nothing new to show you.”
    I looked into her blue eyes. “I want you to show me everything.”
    Her hand moved on my leg, playful, insistent. “All right. Shall we start with the room?”
    We hurried, but getting back to the room seemed to take a lot longer than my trip to the pool a few minutes earlier. We made it, though, and I had her out of that bathing suit before the door had closed behind us.
    I kicked off my shoes and we moved into the room, kissing again, Delilah pulling off my shirt and pants. I paused at the foot of the bed to get out of my boxers. Delilah scrambled up and reached suddenly under one of the pillows. Even though I’d checked there already, I tensed, but then saw it was only a condom. It was a measure of her own abandon that she hadn’t reached more slowly—she knew my habits, and what could set me off—but also of mine, that I hadn’t spotted the move in time to have done anything about it.
    She lay back and I moved up on top of her, advancing between her open legs. She kissed me again and was rolling the condom onto me even as I moved inside her. For a second I thought of Midori and was glad we were being smart this time. We hadn’t been, in Phuket.
    We made love hard and fast. We didn’t talk; talk was beside the point. It was just moans and breathing and finally a pair of sharp groans that were probably heard in the adjacent room.
    As we lay side by side after, catching our breath, I realized that, for a few minutes, my nearly constant security awareness had been temporarily eclipsed by blind lust, and then by its afterglow. On the one hand, it was liberating, hell, it was life affirming to realize I could have a moment like that. But at the same time, it was worrisome. I hadn’t told Delilah yet what I’d learned about Midori. I didn’t know how to tell her, or when. What I did know was that I had never needed my skills as much as I would for what I planned to do next.

2
    W E SPENT THE REST of the afternoon and evening dozing, making love again, then dozing some more. I remember thinking at some point it was good Barceloneans eat so late, or we would have missed our chance for dinner.
    We finally managed to shower and get dressed, and then had a hotel car take us to Torre d’Alta Mar, a