License to Thrill

sent her pulse jumping and she smoothed a hand over her loose hair as she walked to the door. When she opened it, he was holding onto the door frame, smiling like the devil's evil brother. "Hallo, Pussy-Kat." Then he glanced at her slacks and blouse. "I was hoping you'd be naked."
    She made a good attempt at a smile, she thought. While she was wallowing in angst wondering how she was going to say good-bye, he was as breezy as a kite, just flying through, ma'am.
    He leaned forward to give her a light, swift kiss, then glanced at his watch. "But it’s just as well. Not much time for good-byes, Pussy-Kat, I have a plane to catch."
    She nodded, biting her lower lip. Disappointment sawed through her—she hated that their parting was going to be so... so... so common. But it only reinforced her earlier assessment that her feelings obviously ran deeper than his.
    He nodded to the Woman box. "I'm leaving you the female figurine, so take good care of her."
    Kat frowned, shaking her head. "James, I can't accept a gift like that—it's much too expensive and it means—"
    "It means nothing," he said curtly, his tone cutting her deep. He sighed, raking his hand through his hair. "I simply decided I don't have room for both pieces, and I don't feel like lugging the pair all the way to New York and then to London."
    She blinked and forbade herself to cry.
    His mouth was set in a firm line. "It doesn't represent something larger, if that's what you're worried about. If you don't want to be bothered with it either, take it back to the dealer and see if he'll take it off your hands."
    Kat bit her tongue, determined not to let him see how much he was hurting her. "Okay," she said softly.
    He had gathered up his suitcase and the Man box and was backing out the door when she remembered the gift. She reached for the small package and fingered the paper she'd so carefully wrapped around it. "Um, James."
    His brow was still furrowed when he glanced up, and climbed in surprise when he spotted the wrapped gift.
    She shrugged. "Just a little something to say thank you."
    James stopped, then looked flustered. "My cab's waiting—"
    "Go," she said, shooing him out the door and smiling as wide as she dared. "You can open it later—it, um, doesn't represent something larger."
    He gave her a little smile, then nodded.
    "See you in the movies," she quipped.
    One dimple appeared. "Sorry?"
    She shook her head and whispered, "Private joke."
    "Good-bye, Pussy-Kat, I hope you find everything your heart desires in the City of Angels."
    She could almost feel her heart cracking open. "Good-bye, Agent Donovan, I wish the same for you in your worldly travels."
    He flashed both dimples, and then he was gone.
    Kat resisted the urge to watch him walk away. She simply closed the door and slid down it until she sat on the bare wood floor, her tears falling freely.

    *****

    James cleared his throat for the tenth time to dislodge the clump of emotion he felt at leaving Kat. In his bumbling attempt to avoid a sappy good-bye, he'd hurt her feelings. What a cad he'd been.
    "Got a cold?" the cabbie asked conversationally.
    "Er, yes... I believe I am coming down with something."
    "Sounds bad."
    James glanced down at the wrapped package in his lap. "It's quite bad, actually."
    "Drink lots of fluids," the fellow said.
    "Do martinis count?" James asked with a wry grin.
    "Hell, yeah." The man pointed at the package. "Whatcha got there?"
    "I'm not sure—it's a gift."
    "Aren't you gonna open it?"
    James nodded, then carefully opened one end. He tore away several layers until he withdrew a fat leather case, from which protruded a copper-colored metal tube with a decorative screw-top lid.
    "What is it?" the guy asked.
    "It's a portable humidor," James said, his heart doing strange things inside his tight chest.
    "For cigars?"
    "Yes."
    "Wow, it looks nice."
    "Indeed," James replied, alternately caressing the metal and the leather. The initials JD had been engraved in simple block letters on the lid.
    "From a girlfriend?"
    James frowned. "Not really." He looked back to the gift and smiled. "Just a wonderful lady I met during my visit." He carefully unscrewed the lid and blinked as the strong aroma of tobacco filled his nostrils.
    "Did she put a cigar in it too?"
    James pinched the top of the cigar, his heart thudding as he withdrew it from the metal cylinder. "Bloody hell," he whispered.
    "Must be a good one."
    "The best," James agreed softly, studying one of the Cuban