Free Dead in the Water by Stuart Woods Page A

about six hundred thousand last he said. "My best year so far." "You're doing well, then." "By New York law firm standards that's only middling, but I have a lot more freedom than I would as a partner in a firm. I'm lucky that I can pick and choose my cases. If I want to bugger off to St. Marks for a week's sailing'I can manage it." She put an oily hand against his cheek. "But you got stood up, didn't you? Poor baby." "That's me." "Who is she?" "Name's Arrington Carter; she's a freelance writer." "And when the blizzard was over, what kept her in New York?" "She's writing a New Yorker profile of Vance Calder." "Ooooh, lucky girl." "I guess. She's known him for a while; matter of fact, she was his date the first time I met her." "And you won out over Vance Calder? You must be sensational in bed." He laughed. "You think that was it? I always thought it was my boyish charm." She gave him a bright smile. "That, too." She opened a sealed packet of smoked salmon and arranged the slices on two plates. "First course is almost ready," she said. "There's a bottle of white on the table; will you open it?"
    Stone went to the table, found a corkscrew, and opened a bottle of Beringer Private Reserve '94, then tasted it. "Excellent," he said. "Was Paul a connoisseur of wines?"
    "Paul was more of a wino; I'm the authority." She handed him a bottle of red. "For the main course; might as well open it and let it breathe." "Dominus '87. Very nice." "You know wines?"
    "Enough to stay out of trouble." He opened both bottles. She set the two plates of smoked salmon on the table and untied her apron. Underneath it she was dressed in a very short skirt and a white cotton blouse, unbuttoned and tied under her breasts.
    Stone remembered that the first time he had seen her she'd been wearing that sort of blouse, tied that way.
    They finished their smoked salmon, then she whipped up a chicken dish over rice, with a lovely sauce. They were both warm with the wine and laughing easily. Allison cleared the table, then pressed a button and it folded away electrically.
    "Very slick."
    "Glad you like it." She caught him looking at her breasts. "Any yachtsman should be able to deal with a simple square knot," she said, knocking back the last of her wine.
    Uh-oh, Stone said to himself. But he had had nearly a bottle of wine on top of the martini, and he was feeling hurt by Arrington, feeling incautious, and feeling extremely attracted to Allison Manning. She went to a switch panel and lowered the lights; when she came back the knot in her shirt had been untied. She bent to kiss Stone, and her breasts fell free. "Let's forget about the attorney--client relationship for the night," she said. Stone had a decision to make, and it didn't take long. "It's forgotten," he said. She straddled his bare legs, and he found that there was nothing under the short skirt. He shucked off his shorts, and she pulled his polo shirt over his head. A tug at a zipper and a shrug of her shoulders, and they were both naked. "I don't think I can wait," Stone said. "I can't wait, either," she said, reaching down and slipping him into her. "We'll wait longer next time." They were both very quick and very together; they finished, clutching each other and smothering their cries in each other's flesh. When they had both stopped trembling, she stood up, took his hand, and led him toward the all cabin. "Now we can start working on the next time," she said, "and we can practice waiting."
    CHAPTER
    Stone woke not long after dawn as a shaft of new sunlight fell across his face; it had been a warm night, and they were both lying on top of the bed covers. She lay on her stomach with her head turned toward him, a strand of blond hair falling to a corner of her mouth and a tiny frown on her face', as if she were trying to figure out something about a dream. The frown lent her the innocence of a little girl. Stone didn't know what had motivated her to make love to him--maybe the realization that she might