Tessa got in on schedule, and she took a few minutes before they met in Stone’s study for drinks.
“What a nice room!” she said, as Stone handed her a vodka gimlet.
“Thank you.”
“In fact, it’s a nice house all over, from what I’ve seen.”
“Thank you again.”
“I don’t think a woman did it,” Tessa said. “Didn’t your late wife have the decorator bug?”
“She did, but it was decorated before she moved in, and anyway, she had just exhausted her efforts in that regard in the building of a house in Virginia.”
“Do you still own that?”
“No. Our son didn’t want it, either, so I sold it.”
“Why are you and Lance Cabot so interested in Peter Grant?” she asked, without preamble.
“I’m not, and I don’t know why Lance is.”
“That doesn’t make any sense,” she said.
“Perhaps Lance is interested because he’s unaccustomed to not knowing everything about everybody.”
“Well, surely, with that huge organization at his beck and call, he could know everything about anybody in a flash.”
“Not when that person has spent half a lifetime erasing his past.”
Tessa blinked. “You can tell me this is none of my business, if you like.”
Stone obliged her. “This is none of your business—not that I think that will make the slightest difference.”
“You’re getting to know me pretty well,” she said.
“And you, me. I didn’t tell you I’d been married.”
“I’m a curious person.”
“That’s putting it mildly.”
“Does it offend you?”
“Not at all. My life is an open book, even if Peter’s isn’t.”
“Why is the CIA after him?”
“I have no knowledge that they are. It’s just that Lance is the only person I know who is more curious than you.”
“Can I tell Peter that the CIA has no interest in him?”
“You can tell him anything you like, as long as you don’t bring my name into it. I’m afraid that’s a hard-and-fast rule if you and I are to remain friends. May I have your promise?”
“I don’t like making promises,” Tessa said.
“Because you might have to keep them?”
“Exactly.”
“There’s a flight back to Paris tomorrow, and you have a round-trip ticket.”
“Oh, all right, I promise I won’t talk to Peter about you.”
“Thank you. I’ll hold you to that.”
“I can ask you questions about Lance, though, can’t I?”
“Almost everything I know about Lance is reaped from my personal acquaintance with him. I have no knowledge how he operates or why he does what he does. If I get curious, I remind myself that what he does is a matter of national security, and I don’t have a need to know, and you will be a happier person if you adopt that attitude.”
“Is that a threat?”
“Certainly not.”
“Then why will I be a happier person if I adopt your attitude?”
“Because you won’t continually be wondering about Lance. Your mind will be free to be occupied by more pleasant thoughts, like what we are going to do to each other after dinner.”
“So, if I should find myself thinking about anything to do with Lance, I should just think about sex?”
“A good policy, as long as it’s sex with me.”
“Do you object to my having sex with others?”
“You are a free woman. You may do anything you like.”
He poured them another drink while she thought about that.
“And,” she said, “I suppose you have the same freedom?”
“Of course. Would you deny me that?”
“Perhaps over the short term.”
“I promise not to have sex with anybody but you—tonight.”
Fred appeared in the doorway. “Dinner in ten minutes, sir.”
“Thank you, Fred,” Stone replied.
“You have an answer for everything, don’t you?” Tessa asked.
“I’d better, when I’m with someone as curious as you.”
“See what I mean?”
“I’m just trying to hold up my end of the conversation,” Stone replied. “Later, I’ll hold up your end.”
“So to speak.”
“So to speak.”
Dinner arrived, and they worked their way through potato and leek soup, a rack of lamb, and apple pie à la mode.
After the meal, they took their brandy upstairs and playfully undressed each other.
Stone, as promised, held up her end and met her most urgent needs, then she did the same for him. They woke in the middle of the night for a repeat performance, then again after the sun rose.
“What are your plans for today?” Stone asked during breakfast.
“Shopping.”
“Isn’t there enough shopping in Paris?”
“It’s different, somehow.”
“I’ll give you Fred and the car for the day,” he said.
“How sweet of you!”
“It will give you somewhere to put the shopping bags.”