Chapter 20: Decree, Ms. Farrington

I did not cry in the elevator, or in the lobby, or on the walk to the car.

I cried in the ninth-floor suite with my forehead against Elias's chest and both fists in his shirt.

He held the back of my head and said nothing, which was exactly right.

"Six to five," I said, into the cotton. "By one man who wanted a signature instead of a photocopy."

"Next time we'll bring the signature."

"There's no next time. She's going to fire every witness I have."

"Then we'll get there first."

He tilted my face up with his thumb and wiped my cheek.

"Take the day off, Lydia. Take the night."

"I don't want a night off."

"What do you want?"

"I want you to slow down."

He went still.

"Last time you were hungry," I said. "I want to know what you do when you aren't."

A slow breath went out of him.

"Come here, then," he said.

He did not carry me this time.

He took my hand and walked me to the window, where the lights of the river ran gold and white along the glass.

He stood behind me and unbuttoned my blouse one button at a time.

He kissed the side of my neck at each one.

"Elias."

"I'm not going to hurry."

He slid the blouse off my shoulders and let it fall.

His palms went flat over my stomach, warm and slow, and then up to my breasts.

He held me there with my back against his chest.

I could feel his heartbeat through his shirt, and it was not slow at all.

"You said I was hungry," he said against my ear. "I was."

"Show me you aren't."

He unhooked my bra, then turned me around and knelt.

He unbuttoned my skirt and drew it down my legs with my underwear.

He pressed his mouth to the inside of my knee.

My hand went to his hair.

He worked his way up my thigh with his lips and his teeth, in no hurry at all.

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