Page 109 of Blood Stone

He lay back on the bed, all long limbs and fine flesh. He shook his head. “It’s fine.”

“But I do need to go. I have to check the dailies.”

“And you should eat.”

“Adrian said he would get…” Kate halted again, her arm halfway inside her tee-shirt.

Garrett’s arm came around her waist and his lips pressed against her shoulder. “It’s really okay, Kate. I’m not going to wither up and die, because you talk about the other man in your life. Adrian’s holding your life together and keeping you sane while you make a movie. I know that. I also know I’m part of keeping you sane.”

She let out her breath. “You’re a bigger person than me, then, Micheil. I’d be outraged and eaten up with jealousy.”

“I’ll take you on whatever terms you come. That’s enough for now.”

She slid her tee-shirt on and he tugged it down behind her. “See, that’s what makes you bigger than me,” she told him. “I’m such a selfish bitch. I’d be stomping my foot, demanding more…Iamdemanding more than I deserve already.”

“But you don’t see you the way I do.”

“Youdon’t see me the way you should.” She pushed her legs into her jeans and stood up, turning to face him as she fastened them.

“You’d make a lousy salesman. Haven’t your PR people taught you anything yet about spin?” Garrett moved to the edge of the bed and placed a knee on either side of hers. He cupped the back of her thighs. “Just enjoy this. Don’t question it. Things will change soon enough.”

She frowned. “You make it sound like there’s some sort of plot going on.”

He laughed up at her. “I’ve watched too many strategies and plots to unseat me hatch and die in the boardroom. One thing I know from a lifetime of business politics — thingsalwayschange.”

She took a deep breath. “Yeah, they do, don’t they?”

He reached up and drew her head down to kiss her. “Now go and eat dinner.”

“Yes, Micheil.”

He grinned. “I really do like that. Especially with the subservient ‘yes’ tacked on the front of it.”

She snorted and turned to leave. “Last time I’m saying it,” she warned him as she shut the trailer door behind her.

* * * * *

The tap on the door didn’t wake Patrick, who was asleep in the bedroom. Nial moved soundlessly across the well-appointed trailer and opened the door a few inches. A light shone briefly in his face.

“Sir, there’s someone in reception demanding to speak to you.” The voice was young. He recognized it as one of the night watchmen that guarded the hangar after midnight.

“Patrick? At this time of night?”

“Not Mr. Sauvage, sir. You.”

Nial pushed the trailer door open, stepped out and shut it gently, making no noise. The man was holding the torch down by his side to avoid blinding either of them. It lit the yellow band on his uniform trousers and the shining boots.

“How did they ask for me, exactly?” Nial pressed, cautiously.

The man held out a sheet of paper. “With this.”

Nial looked at it. The guard held the torch up to light it, although Nial could see it perfectly well anyway. It was a computer printout of a news site’s report on the Billy Donnelly thing. There was a very clear shot of him, Sebastian and Patrick marching Billy off to the van in which they’d driven him into San Francisco, to the nearest lock-up where they’d convinced a sheriff, who had recognized Patrick, to process and hold Williams until Garrett’s lawyer arrived to get the real charges laid.

Nial’s head in the photo was circled in black marker.

“Who’s doing the asking?” Nial said, looking at the guard.

“Big guy,” the man said. “But I think he’s asking on someone else’s behalf.”