Carnal Curiosity - Stuart Woods Page 0,2
six feet. They finished undressing before falling onto the bed, not bothering with the covers.
Half an hour later they lay in each other’s arms, breathing deeply.
“I feel well adjusted now,” he said.
“Adjustment is my métier,” she said. “Are you up to doing it again?” She took him in her hand again to focus his attention. “Yes, I believe you are.”
They did it again, this time more slowly.
“I’m hungry,” she said a few minutes later.
“What would you like to eat?”
“You mean, in addition to what I’ve just had?”
“Whatever you want.”
“A steak.”
“What kind of steak?”
“A prime strip.”
“I thought I’d already done that.”
“Medium rare,” she said.
“Something on the side?”
She laughed. “Green beans and some sort of potatoes.”
“Something to start?”
“A Caesar salad.”
Stone picked up the phone, reached Fred, and ordered for them. “And a bottle of the Far Niente Cabernet, decanted.” He hung up and returned to her.
She snuggled into his shoulder. “I hope you’re surprised by all this,” she said, “because I certainly am.”
“I love a surprise,” he replied, stroking her hair.
“There was a moment, when I stood in the door and watched you stacking papers.”
“The moment for me came just after that,” he said.
“I’m not this way with all my adjustees.”
“I should hope not—you’d be continually exhausted.”
“I’m not exhausted yet,” she said.
“Oh, God.”
“You’ll be ready again after a steak.”
“You could be right.”
“When I’m right, I’m right.”
Their food arrived on the dumbwaiter. Stone sat up the two electrically operated beds and put the tray between them. Fred had decanted the wine, and Stone poured large glasses.
“So,” he said, “how did I get so lucky?”
“Luck of the draw,” she said. “I mean, I could have scheduled the old lady whose cat knocked over a candle and set her bedroom on fire. Besides, I’ll bet you’re lucky a lot.”
“Not this lucky.”
“I’m surprised you’re not married.”
“Widowed,” he said.
“How long?”
“A while. You?”
“Divorced for three years. Much happier single.”
“How did you get into insurance?”
“My ex-husband was a private investigator. I used to help, and I got pretty good at it. After the divorce I applied at Steele, and they found my investigative experience a good fit for sniffing out insurance fraud.”
“Did they suspect me of fraud?” Stone asked.
“Oh, no. There was a lull in those cases, and I drew yours.”
“Did you know I’m their attorney?”
“Who?”
“Steele.”
“You’re kidding.”
“No, they came to me through Strategic Services, another client.”
“I certainly know who they are. I’d love to work there.”
“Maybe you should meet their CEO, Mike Freeman.”
“Love to. Will you introduce me?”
“It’s the least I can do after all you’ve done for me.”
She laughed aloud at that. “You’re right.”
They finished their dinner, sent the tray back downstairs, and made love again.
3
Crane stayed the night, and in the morning Stone put her in a cab. “I had a lovely evening and night,” she said.
“Would you like to try for that again this evening? There’s a cocktail party, and then we can get some dinner.”
“What time?”
“I’ll pick you up at seven. Where do you live?”
“Five-seventy Park. How shall I dress?”
“You’re a better judge of that than I. I’ll wear a suit.”
“See you at seven.” They kissed, and he closed the door.
“Well,” Joan said as he came into his office. “You have a rosy glow. Your insurance adjustment must have gone well.”
“My claim will be forwarded with the adjuster’s approval.”
Joan grinned. “I take it undue influence may have been brought to bear.”
“Kindly shut up and go to work,” he said. Joan was always interested in his sex life.
“Yes, sir!” She vanished.
Stone sat down and found himself reintroduced to the paperwork of Mrs. and Mr. Jack Coulter. He reread his memo to Tax and Finance and decided he had covered all the bases. “Joan!” he yelled.
She came back into his office. “We have this newfangled thing called a buzzer,” she said.
“You need the exercise,” he riposted. He scooped up the papers on his desk and handed them to her. Sort these into some sort of sane filings. I’ll e-mail you my memo to Tax and Finance, and you can messenger the lot over to them.”
She hefted the stack of paper. “Feels like a major new client, if we’re starting at this weight.”
“I believe that will be the case. Your experience with my file should be of use. You might use that as a template.”
“Will do.” She vanished, and after a moment, buzzed him. “See? A buzzer! Dino on one.”
Stone sighed and picked up the phone. “Good morning, Chief,” he said. Dino had been the new chief of detectives of the NYPD for some time now. “You and