Trust Me

the costume designer.”
    “I see.”
    “We Wainwrights are all very active in the Strolling Players. Even Right Touch gets involved. I cater the children’s parties that are held before the plays are staged.”
    Stark nodded and made no comment. He opened the door, got out, and came around to open Desdemona’s door. “I’m scheduled to see a matinee on Saturday. Something called Monsters Under the Bed, I believe.”
    “I’ll be around before the show. I’m doing pizzas for the kids in the audience.” Desdemona got out of the car. “Aunt Bess is in the play. She’s one of the monsters. Uncle Augustus is running lights.”
    “Let’s hope I understand this play better than I did Fly on a Wall. ” Stark took her arm and walked with her to the elevator.
    When the doors slid open, Desdemona stepped inside and gazed straight ahead at the indicator panel. “Do you have time to come in for coffee?”
    “Yes.” Stark glanced at his watch. “Macbeth is with the boys. I told him I’d be home around one.” He eyed her intently. Then, without a word he put his arm around her shoulders.
    Some of Desdemona’s claustrophobic tension ebbed away.
    The doors slid open. Desdemona stepped quickly out of the elevator. She led the way down the hall to her apartment.
    Stark took her key and inserted it into the lock as if he had been doing it for years. “There’s something I’ve been meaning to ask.”
    “Yes?” Desdemona flipped on the light and walked into the loft apartment. She bent over to remove her high heels.
    “Do you remember when I kissed you the first time? It was after the cocktail reception you put on for my seminar clients.”
    Desdemona, one shoe off, glanced up swiftly. “Of course I remember. What about it?”
    Stark closed the door and turned to look at her. His eyes were brooding and intent. Very focused. “You said then that we needed time to get to know each other before we went to bed together.”
    Desdemona swallowed. “Yes, I know. You need time to recover from your experience with Pamela. That sort of rejection is very hard on a sensitive person.”
    “Let’s leave the issue of my sensitive nature out of this. I was wondering if you could be more specific?”
    “Specific?” Desdemona croaked. “About what?”
    Stark glanced at the key in his hand. When he looked up, his eyes were fathomless pools of green. “About the length of time I’m supposed to wait.”
    “That’s a difficult question to answer.”
    “Is it?”
    “It’s not exactly the kind of thing you can quantify.” She stepped out of her other shoe. “I mean, there’s no established waiting period.”
    “Just tell me how I’m supposed to know when it will be okay to ask you to go to bed with me,” Stark said quietly.
    Desdemona leaned back against the brick wall, closed her eyes, and took a deep breath. “We’ll have to feel our way as we go along, I guess. I’m sure we’ll both know when the time is right.”
    “I won’t,” Stark said.
    “I beg your pardon?”
    “I’m not good at feeling my way in a relationship. Especially in a situation like this where you’re making all the rules.”
    Desdemona opened her eyes and glared at him. “You make it sound as though I’m inventing them as we go along.”
    “Aren’t you?”
    “Of course not. For heaven’s sake, Stark, you just saw your ex-fiancee not more than an hour ago.”
    “What the hell does that have to do with anything?”
    “I’m sure you’re experiencing some very strong emotions.” Desdemona straightened away from the wall and stalked toward the bank of windows on the other side of the room. “It must have been difficult for you.”
    “Is that why you asked me how I felt downstairs in the garage? You thought I was shaken by the meeting with Pamela?”
    “Aren’t you?”
    “No.” Stark followed her across the room. He came to a halt directly behind her and put his hands on her shoulders. “I don’t give a damn about Pamela. I’m asking you for an estimate of how long I’m supposed to wait for you. It seems like a perfectly reasonable request to me.”
    “You think so?”
    Stark touched the nape of her neck. “I can wait as long as necessary, you know.”
    Desdemona shivered. “Would you?”
    “Yes. I’m a very patient man.” He kissed the curve of her shoulder. “But right now I’d trade my soul for some idea of how long you’re going to keep me dangling.”
    “Oh, Stark, you’re impossible.” Desdemona