The daylight that streamed from the porthole over the bed lit up Tam’s body, leaving no shadows. Once again Tam pulled her on top so that she was straddling her. Her unbound hair swept around them as they kissed. Only that morning Tam’s hands had stopped at the hem of her T-shirt, but nothing was in the way now and she moaned as Tam’s hands cupped her breasts. She was dissolving into Tam’s touch even as her blood roared in her head.Her fingertips had never seemed so sensitive to texture, but she could savor the difference in skin over Tam’s collarbone and her chest. She was so lost in the newness of Tam’s body that she didn’t feel the change in Tam’s touch until her hand had slipped between her spread thighs.

246


She groaned and momentarily stilled. Gazing down into Tam’s face, she sought for her reflection in Tam’s shining gray eyes. Then she kissed her with yes, her needy yes. She begged with kisses and spread herself on Tam’s hands. All that electricity, the yearning, shadowed glances, the confusion of wanting, all swirled through her body in a rush like a waterfall. She spilled over and she breathed out a nearly inaudible, “More.”

Tam’s eyes were fierce with passion. She pulled Kip down to her for more kisses, saying against her mouth, “More. All you want.”

Finally, when Tam rolled on top of her, Kip felt a wave of surrender. Until then she had been taking what she needed, but now she gave. Tam’s fingers were deep inside her, her mouth at her breasts was demanding and rough. She had never felt stripped bare like this before, so enjoyed and savored. She had never felt like she was giving so completely what was wanted.

She moaned Tam’s name. Exhausted, only the edges of her desire sated, she leaned over Tam to watch her eyes as she finally explored the exquisite velvet and wet of her. There was only love there, bright with need and wonder. Her fingers caressed and she followed the light in Tam’s eyes. How far, how deep, how much, it was all there in eyes she had thought would never be open to her. There were no secrets, no shadows, and she was wanted.

She abandoned Tam’s eyes to love her with her mouth, tasting passion, letting it paint her lips, roll over her tongue. She could feel Tam’s response and adored the mirror of their passion. She loved doing this and clearly Tam loved feeling it. She could have laughed with delight at the surging of Tam’s body, but saved it until the long arms pulled her up again and she was held close.

Tam pulled a sheet over them, and Kip realized she was shivering with emotion, exhaustion and release all rolled into one. She kissed Tam with her wet lips, which drew a responsive shudder. If resting had been in Tam’s mind, she abandoned the thought and Kip found herself again loved, again wanted.

247


“We’re underway,” Tam murmured.

Kip listened—she was right, the engines had changed. “Did we leave early or something?”

“No, love. We’ve been in bed for hours.”

Kip’s disbelieving eyes found the bedside clock, then she ducked her head sheepishly.

Tam tipped her face up. “I’m not done with you.”

She shuddered and felt so wanton, so undone. She could say nothing but “yes,” with her lips pressed to Tam’s.

“Do you suppose they’re still serving dinner?”

Tam smiled sleepily against Kip’s hair. “Probably. If you can get up, I’ll join you.”

Kip’s soft laugh flowed around Tam’s ears. “Okay, you got me. I can’t move.”

“Warm enough?”

“God, yes.”

Tam was almost asleep when Kip said her name.

“We go back to the real world tomorrow.”

“Mm-hmm.”

She shifted and Tam opened her eyes. The last of sunset painted Kip with orange and gold.

“I want this—” Kip touched Tam’s lips with her fingertips, then brushed them tantalizingly over her nipple, drawing a gasp.

“I want this to be the real world. The one that counts most.”

“So do I. It’ll only be that way if we work at it.”

Kip nodded and settled again. “I like the rocking.”

Tam gathered her close. “I’ll take you sailing the next possible day. We’ll dine in the sunshine.”

Kip murmured something else and Tam didn’t know which of them fell asleep first. It didn’t matter.

248


epIlOgUe

“The marina confirmed. The hamper will be delivered by four o’clock. I did that much. It’s up to you to get the boss off my back and onto the boat.” Mercedes’ tone indicated that she thought it an impossible task.

Kip leaned against the wall in one of the less traveled corridors of the Federal courthouse. “Once sentencing is over I am kidnapping her. The weather is supposed to be spectacular—

a genuine summer weekend in Seattle. Who would have thunk it?” “From what I hear, you’re the one who needs the break.”

“Nah. It’s good to be fully occupied again. Oh, Tam’s waving.

I think we’re going back into session.”

Kip clicked her cell phone shut and turned it off. She wasn’t 249


going to get caught by a bailiff with her phone on. It would earn her a dressing-down from Judge Warren, an experience anyone with sense would avoid.

Tam took her hand with a tense smile. “What were you plotting? You had that look.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I was just chatting with Mercedes.”

“Great. The thought of the two of you in league is too much to contemplate.”

They found seats in the crowded courtroom. Kip felt a thrill of satisfaction when Nadia and Ted were brought in. Before their guilty verdict they’d been in carefully chosen, sober suits. Now that they were officially felons, she had to say that orange didn’t become either of them. Nadia was no longer perfectly tanned.

It must have been the shock of her life when Judge Warren had agreed with the U.S. Attorney that they were a flight risk and denied them bail.

It was the first of many shocks—poor Ted and Nadia. They’d not looked the least concerned during Kip’s testimony, even though their attorney had failed to undermine or rattle either of them by revealing their now-public relationship.

The Langhorn defense had been greatly bolstered when the recording of their confessional conversation with Tam had been ruled inadmissible, so their own incriminating words couldn’t be used against them. They hadn’t been read any rights, or advised they were being recorded. But dear Robert Manna, who had given incredibly detailed testimony, had been challenged by the defense for his claim of exact recall. How could he possibly remember exactly what was said nearly nine months later? Why, to be fully prepared he’d requested a copy of a recording he knew had been made. It had, after all, been made on his employer’s premises in the Commonwealth of the Bahamas, and in the spirit of cooperation, the local embassy staff had provided it to him. So he’d listened to the recording to refresh his memory of what he and others had said he’d answered, an allowable rebuttal to the doubts raised about his memory.

250


Neither of the defendants had looked quite as confident after that. Guilty on all counts, bank accounts drained by a series of attorneys of decreasing skill and the only bright spot was possible grounds for appeal over the recording, if only they could afford an attorney good enough to make their case.

The recording had of course fallen into the hands of reporters as well. Their bald-faced decision to buy their way into celebrity had not endeared them to the very people they had hoped to impress. The Langhorns were regarded as the type of wannabees that would crash a State dinner. Them that had weren’t sharing with grasping posers.

The final blow had been the court’s decision to gag all mention of and seal the records concerning the cult where both Tam and Nadia had been born, forwarding the matter to Family and Juvenile Court for investigation. Nadia would eventually get her evidence back, but the undoubted sympathy she’d hoped for from the jury hadn’t come to pass either.

Fortune was being awful slow to smile on them.

Kip whispered in Tam’s ear. “I want Judge Warren to rule the world.”

Tam nodded and whispered back, “I’m sorry, honey, but I fell for her hard when she gave Vernon Markoff fifteen years.”

Kip gave her the look that remark deserved but didn’t say anything because the bailiff announced the judge’s entry into the courtroom. The charges were read and the judge finally spoke.

Kip covered Tam’s hand with her own.

“In considering the facts of this case,” Judge Warren read aloud from her prepared notes, “as well as the nature of the crimes and the motivation behind them, I have taken into account that no weapons were used in the course of the felony acts. Therefore the maximum sentence is proscribed by law. I have considered the statements of contrition by the defendants, which would suggest that a long rehabilitation would be unnecessary.”

Kip felt Tam’s hand twitch. It wasn’t sounding like a heavy sentence so far—the Langhorns could get as little as seven years, with half that sentence served on probation.

251


“Prison, however, serves more than one purpose.

Rehabilitation is one. Punishment is another. In spite of the defendants’ belief that prison is little more than a sequestered writing retreat, it is supposed to punish, as long as it’s not in cruel or unusual ways. In my years on the bench I have seen many defendants who were motivated by greed and ambition, and even a desire for notoriety. In most of those cases, the defendants perceived no other option when they chose a criminal act. What I find disturbing in this case is that the defendants had choices and opportunities of many legal kinds. From dozens of lawful options, they elected to commit their crimes as if choosing the right suit for a job interview.”