Page 65
"I’ll bet he would,” he said. "That sonofabitch!” Then he looked at her curiously. “What’s he got on you?”
When she didn’t reply, he shrugged. “Sorry, none of my business. I shouldn’t have asked.”
“Please,” she said softly,“don’t make trouble for me.”
He looked at her again, and she realized she liked his eyes.
“No,” he said. “Of course I won’t. We’ll sit here and have a couple of drinks and dance. If he has somebody watching us—the goddamned waiter seems very curious—he will report that we seemed to be getting on famously. ”
She smiled.
“You have a very nice smile,” he said.
“Thank you,” she said, and realized that her face was warm, that she was blushing.
“How do you know who I am?” she asked, a moment later.
"You were pointed out to me at the university,” he said. “I’ve had a couple of lectures about tungsten from your father. I’m studying electrical engineering. ”
Then he stood up.
“May I have the pleasure of this dance, Fräulein Dyer?”he asked with exaggerated courtesy.
While they were dancing, he seemed determined to keep distance between them, and after a moment she understood why: He had an erection. Uncharacteristically—but on purpose—she moved her midsection close to his for confirmation.
When they were back at the table, his knee brushed hers and then quickly withdrew. A moment later, her knee found his. This time his did not withdraw.
“Is that on orders, or not?” he asked, looking into her eyes.
Shamed, she withdrew her knee.
“I didn’t mean I don’t like it,” Fulmar said.
She averted her eyes from his, but moved her knee against him again.
“Would you care to see my etchings, Fräulein Dyer?” Fulmar asked. She smiled. “It would give the waiter something interesting to report.”
“Where are your etchings?” she asked.
“Here. Upstairs. I live here.”
She picked up her wineglass and drained it, and then stood up.
“Shall we go, Herr Baron?” she asked.
As they waited for the elevator, the waiter came to the dining room entrance to see where they were off to.
She took more pleasure than she expected to from coupling with Eric von Fulmar. That was probably because he was kind and straightforward, and enthusiastic. Peis made a point of looking bored as he pumped away at her.
When Peis phoned the next day to ask how things had gone, she replied:
“It made me feel like one of Frau Gumbach’s whores.”
“I asked you,” he said, obviously taking pleasure from that, “how things went, not whether or not you liked it. For instance, did you have to shave?” He let that sink in for a moment, and then added: “You went to Fulmar’s room at seven-thirty. You came back down at quarter to nine and had dinner. You went back to his room at half past ten and stayed there until three in the morning. He drove you home then in the Arab’s Delahaye.”
She was stunned.
“I’m happy for you, Gisella,” Peis went on, “that you have formed this new relationship. And I would be very unhappy if it were broken off.”
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