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is."
"You make it sound so easy, so simple. Life isn't as simple as you think,
Eric. It's infinitely more complex than you can imagine."
"I confess my ignorance along with my love," he said with a smile. "Tonight
you can educate me."
"You're impossible. You won't listen and you have no common sense at all."
"Sound like a man in love, don't I? If it helps any, Lisa, I don't understand
why you should have this effect on me, either. But isn't that what love's all
about?"
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"I don't know," she whispered. "I've never really loved anyone."
"Until now," he said, taking her abruptly into his arms.
The kiss lasted longer than he intended, certainly longer than she intended.
When they finally parted there was a glimmer of something new and wonderful in
her eyes The uncertainty was still there, the old taboos and regulations but
mixed now with a faint hope and desire to believe in him, as she'd never
believed in anything before. He saw it clearly and knew he couldn't let her
down. Not now not ever.
IX
HE walked all the way back to his hotel, disdaining the robocabs and public
transport, enjoying the light rain that was falling. He didn't feel it. He
felt nothing but joy and delight in being alive.
She'd found him attractive, had said as much. She'd said she could love him.
The confrontation had turned out better than in his wildest imaginings. Where
he'd been prepared to find indifference or distrust, he'd discovered warmth
and love. If that one brief glimpse of her in Phoenix had captured him, her
actual presence had imprisoned him forever.
No longer was she a fading, distant image. She was a real person now, one with
fears and troubles of her own. They only intensified his feelings for her.
Here was someone who needed not only all the love he'd kept buried inside all
his life but who also needed his help and protection. She was a prisoner,
there was no question of it. Though of what he still wasn't sure. It didn't
matter. All that mattered was that she cared for him, if only to the point of
concern for his welfare. He would settle for concern now and wait for the love
he was certain would follow.
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Time passed with agonizing deliberation, but he made himself hew to the
schedule he'd planned. What would they do tonight besides talk? Perhaps he
could get her out of that crystal-and-white cell. Dinner?
No doubt she'd already dined at Nueva York's most exclusive restaurants. What
about the lower levels of
Forty-second Street? Had she ever been there? Ever had a hot dog on a cold
street, or satay on a stick, or rumaki by the basketful? He would try to find
out tonight.
He was full of plans and forcing himself not to run as he reentered his hotel.
Though he was hungry, he passed by the coffee shop. Before he did anything
else he was going to lay out the new suit he'd purchased to replace the one
he'd ruined during his inexplicable escape from the Harlem Tower.
The suit waited, neat and clean, on its hanger. He took it out of the closet
and laid it flat on the bed, turned to go to the bathroom, hesitated.
Something was wrong with the pants. He inspected them closely, couldn't find
the problem. Only when he ran fingers up one trouser leg and bent over it did
his euphoria evaporate and his excitement turn to apprehension.
An expert had done the work. It was very subtle, almost undetectable. The
original laser stitch had been opened. Checking the other leg, he saw that it
had been similarly treated, threads removed and hastily resealed. The fabric
was still stiff. In another hour all signs of tampering would have
disappeared.
A check of the matching jacket revealed similar treatment. There was no
outward damage or signs of manipulation, only a stiff, crinkly feel to the
material where it should have been soft and flexible.
Why would anyone search the seams of his clothing? He stood staring at the
suit that suddenly smelled of an alien presence, then commenced a careful
inspection of his room. His toiletry articles appeared untouched, except for
his razor. He'd shaved twice since cleaning it last. There should be hairs in
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