From the Heart

on the verges of her mind, she watched the moonlight play on his shoulder as it rose and fell. The light was misty with predawn before she slept.
     
    When the phone rang, he jolted out of a restless sleep. Sweat pearled on his forehead. Afraid to answer, more afraid not to, he lifted the receiver. “Yes, hello.”
    “Your time’s up.”
    “I need more,” he said quickly. Knowing that weakness would never be tolerated, he swallowed the tremor in his voice. “Just a few days . . . . It isn’t easy to get to them with the house full of people.”
    “Must I remind you that you aren’t paid to do only what’s easy?”
    “I tried to get to them last night . . . I was nearly caught.”
    “Then you were careless. I’ve no use for carelessness.”
    Less for carelessness than weakness, he thought rapidly and moistened his lips. “Jessica—Jessica’s not feeling well.” He reached for a cigarette to steady his nerves. He had to think quickly and calmly if he wanted to stay alive. “She isn’t planning on coming into the shop. In a couple of days I should be able to convince her to take a long weekend. She’ll listen to me.” He took a greedy drag of his cigarette, praying that he spoke the truth. “With her out of the house, I can get to the diamonds without taking any chances.” Moisture beaded on his top lip and he wiped the back of his hand across it. “You’ll have them this weekend. A couple of days won’t matter.”
    A sigh breathed through the phone, chilling him. “You’re mistaken again—too many mistakes, my young friend. Remember my associate in Paris? He made mistakes.”
    The phone slid wetly in his hand. He remembered the man found floating in the Seine. “Tonight,” he said desperately. “I’ll have them for you tonight.”
    “Ten o’clock at the shop.” He paused to make certain the weapon of fear had done its work. The soft, jerky breathing pleased him. “If you fail this time, I won’t be so . . . understanding. You’ve done very well since you started to work for me. I’d hate to lose you.”
    “I’ll bring them. Then I—then I want out.”
    “We’ll discuss it. Ten o’clock.” With a gentle click, the connection was broken.

9
    S lade’s mind and body awoke at the same instant. The luxury of drifting slowly awake was something he had forfeited years before. He had had to perfect the ability to sleep quickly and lightly and to awake just as quickly, ready to function. It was a habit he looked forward to breaking without really believing he ever would.
    He saw from the slant of the sun that it was still early, but he shifted his gaze to check the mantel clock nonetheless. Just past seven. The four hours’ rest had done all it needed to do.
    Turning his head, he looked down at Jessica. The pale blue smudges under her eyes made him frown. Though by his calculations she had slept nearly eight hours, the smudges were deeper than they had been the day before. Today he’d make certain she rested more—if he had to slip a sleeping pill into her coffee. And ate something—if he had to force-feed her. He could all but feel the pounds slipping off her.
    Though he barely shifted the mattress as he moved away from her, her hand tightened on his arm. Her eyes flew open. “Get some more sleep,” he ordered, touching his lips to hers.
    “What time is it?” Her voice was husky and thick, but her hand stayed firm on his arm.
    “Early.”
    Jessica relaxed, muscle by muscle, but didn’t release him. “How early?”
    “Too early.” He bent to give her another brief kiss before he rose, but she pulled him closer.
    “Too early for what?”
    She felt his lips curve against hers. “You’re not even awake yet.”
    “Wanna bet?” Running a hand down, she trailed her fingers over his flat stomach. The sleepy kiss smoldered with burgeoning passion. “Maybe you can’t get by on three or four hours’ sleep after all.”
    Cocking his brow, he lifted his head. “Wanna bet?”
    Her answering laugh was smothered by his lips.
    It had never been like this for her. Each time they made love it stunned her, enticed her, then consumed her. In his arms, with his hands and lips running wild and free over her body, she could lose herself. And how she needed to lose herself.
    He’d known from the first how to play her. Each time they came together he found new variations, giving her no opportunity to become familiar with a touch or to anticipate a demand. He could dominate