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He was just dozing off when the security chime alerted him to the presence of someone trying to enter the hangar. Forcing himself from his comfortable bed, he walked into the study and turned on a small TV
monitoring system.
Stacy Fox was standing at the side entrance door staring up and smiling into what Pitt thought was his well-camouflaged hidden security camera.
He pressed a switch, and the door opened. Then he walked out and stood on the stairway balcony.
She stepped into the hangar looking sexy yet demure in a blue collarless jacket, a matching slim skirt, and a jewel-neck white blouse. She moved slowly amid the array of grand machinery in reverent amazement. She stopped at a beautiful 1948 metallic blue Talbot-Lago Grand Sport coupe with special coachwork by a French body maker known as Saoutchik and lightly ran her fingers over one fender.
She was not the first. Almost every woman who ever visited Pitt's unusual living quarters was drawn to the Talbot. He saw it as a masterpiece of mechanical art, but women felt a sensual attraction when they gazed upon it. Once they saw the sleek, almost feline, flow of the body, sensed the fierce power of the engine, and smelled the elegant leather of the interior, the car became an erotic symbol.
"How did you find me?" he asked, his voice echoing around the vast interior.
She looked up. "I studied your packet for two days before I flew out to the Pacific and boarded the Invincible."
"Find anything interesting?" he asked, annoyed that his life was laid bare for anyone with the authority to break his privacy.
"You're quite a guy,
"Flattery indeed."
"Your car collection is breathtaking.
"There are many larger collections with more expensive models and makes."
She turned back to the Talbot-Lago. "I love this one."
"I prefer the green town car next to it."
Stacy turned and peered at the Stutz as if she was studying a manikin modeling a dress at a fashion show. Then she shook her head. "Handsome but massive, too masculine for a woman's taste."
Then she stared up at him again. "Can we talk?"
"If I can stay awake. Come on up."
She climbed the circular stairs, and he gave her a brief tour of the apartment. "Can I get you a drink?"
Pitt asked.
"No thanks." She stared at him, and compassion came to her eyes. "I shouldn't have come. You look like you're about to collapse."
"I'll bounce back after a good night's sleep," he said ruefully. "What you need is a good back rub," she said unexpectedly.
"I thought you came to talk."
"I can talk while I rub. Swedish or shiatsu? What method of massage do you prefer?"
"What the hell, do both.
She laughed. "All right." Sh
e took him by the hand and led him into the bedroom and pushed him facedown on the bed. "Take off your robe."
"Can't I keep my modesty with a sheet?"
"You have something I haven't seen before'?" she said, pulling the sleeves of the robe from his arms.
He laughed. "Don't ask me to turn over.
