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Lann walked to her desk. “I’m taking the ten o’clock flight on Sunday in a week’s time.”
She lifted her head and forced a smile. “Oh. I’ll wait to say goodbye then.”
When he didn’t speak for several seconds, she said a bit too brightly, “Have you managed to go through all of them?” She motioned at a pile of books on his desk.
“No. It’ll have to wait for next time.”
His voice was sad. Maybe it was because of more than just the books. Maybe he’d miss her or think of her sometimes.
He removed his glasses, left them on the light table, and held his hand to her. “Come here.”
She obeyed, getting to her feet and placing her palm in his. He led her to the stairs.
“Where are we going, Lann?”
“I’ve been watching you looking at this room all morning. I want your memory of this room to be a good one.”
“It is a good—”
He placed his finger on her lips. This time, he sent her in front of him, guiding her with his hands on her hips. He unlocked the door, and waited patiently for her answer—to enter or not. Making up her mind, she stepped over the threshold. He followed and closed the door.
“Do you want me to undress?” she asked when he didn’t speak for several long seconds.
“No, krasavitsa.” He reached for the buttons of her blouse. “I want to undress you.”
He removed her clothes first, then his. When they were naked, he scooped her up and carried her to the bed, laying her down gently.
“Turn onto your stomach,” he said.
She did, expecting him to bring forward one or the other kinky sex toy, but instead he started rubbing her shoulders. He massaged her neck and back, working his way down her thighs, calves, and feet, until he had worked all the knots out of her muscles. She moaned contentedly when he slipped his hands under her body and turned her around to start the whole routine from scratch, this time down the front of her body. By the time he was done, she was both relaxed and impossibly turned on.
She took his face between her hands. “I want you.”
“You only have to say the word, my beautiful Katherine.”
He kissed her like it was their last time together, and then he took her so gently she would’ve sworn it meant something to him if she hadn’t known better.They were about to drift off to sleep in the blissful afterglow of their release, but Kat didn’t want to waste a wakeful second.
She drew her fingers through Lann’s hair. “Come swim with me?”
He gave her a lazy smile. “Now?”
“Now.”
His eyes took on a teasing light. “Only if we swim naked.”
“What about Alfonso?”
“Alfonso knows when to disappear,” he said, already pulling her to her feet.
He marched naked to the door, waiting for her to follow. Just in case Alfonso didn’t disappear before they got to the pool, she grabbed Lann’s discarded shirt and pulled it on.
Lann put on some music, a Chambao Flamenco Chill album she liked, and poured them each a Pisco Sour. They sipped it in the pool, and when she grew chilly, they got out and lay down on the chairs in the sun.
She studied him from under her eyelids. His wounds were healing and his bruises were fading. If she believed he’d actually answer her, she’d ask him again about how he’d obtained those nasty marks. He seemed content with the silence, deep in his own thoughts, and she said nothing. Neither of them spoke about the future. As the sun started setting, she felt utterly depressed.Day twenty-three, four, five, and the rest of them rolled by. Even if Kat tried hard not to think about Sunday, it was impossible to ignore D-day. She went through the motions during that last week—working, helping Lann, and enjoying dinners with him. She called Diana and lied, telling her friend that she was fine, that she hadn’t fallen in love with her Russian lover.
After the Valentine’s ball, she’d asked Lann to cut off her airflow once while they were having sex, and he complied by applying pressure to her neck with his hands, but he never again did it when she was handcuffed. Her orgasm was so intense that she blacked out for a few seconds. She tried to please him too, whenever she could. For the last seven days, they had sex so many times that she was as sore as the first night with him.
The media attention started to dwindle. There were fewer articles in the gossip columns and only one or two hardened paparazzi still camped out in front of the building in the hope of catching a stolen photo of the lovers. She hadn’t left the monastery since the dance at the Moneda and the day they went flying, and on Saturday, their last day together, Lann took her out in the glider again.
