He looked up at her. "Diane—I'm one of those Penta- gon people."
"But you're his friend. You wouldn't . . ."
"I'm Mary-Ellen's friend, too."
"She doesn't want him hurt."
"Yeah."
Diane swung off the bed and sat on her heels beside Kinsman, on the floor. "Chet . . . you're my friend, too. You wouldn't hurt the three of us, would you?"
"And what about me? What do I get?"
Diane reached out and put a hand on his shoulder.
He wanted to laugh. "When you came tapping at my chamber door, I had the crazy notion that you had come all the way down from New York to see me, to be with me."
"That was part of it," she said.
"I wanted you, Diane. I really did. I needed you."
"I'm here."
He brushed her hand away. "No, Not as a bribe. Not because Neal's home with his wife and you're lonely. Not to make me think there's a chance you might leave him for me."
"Chet . . . what can I do? What can I say?"
"Nothing. Not a damned thing."
She got to her feet. "I'd better go, then."
"Where to? There are no taxis this time of the morning. Bus service won't start again until six. You can't walk the streets after curfew."
"But there's no room here."
Kinsman stood up beside her. "Stretch out on the bed. Get some sleep. Just don't take your clothes off."
He padded around to the other side of the bed, blew out 211 the candles and lay down in the darkness. He could feel the warmth of her body next to his, hear her breathing slowly relax into sleep.
