on her shoulders, he kissed her on the cheek. "Sweet dreams."
"You too."
With a curt nod in Chiavari's direction, Ramsey left the apartment.
"He's sweet on you, you know," Grigori remarked.
"I know."
"What are you going to do about it?"
"Nothing. He's a nice man and I like him a lot, but that's all there is to it." She yawned again. "I'm beat. Are you going to stay the night?"
He nodded.
"You can't keep watch over me every night."
"Can't I?"
"Do you think he'll come back?"
"I don't know." He crossed the few feet between them and gazed down at her. "Go to bed, Marisa. We can talk about it later."
She stared up at him. He was going to kiss her good night. Just thinking of it made her heart begin to pound in anticipation. It seemed as if she could feel a thousand butterflies in her stomach, their wings beating frantically.
She gazed into his eyes, deep, dark eyes filled with power and knowledge, smoldering with desire.
His hand cupped the back of her head, and then he was bending toward her, blocking everything from her vision but his face. His lips touched hers and it felt as if the earth were falling away again, leaving her adrift in a black sea where there was no up or down, no right or wrong, just the incredible touch of his mouth on hers.
She swayed against him, hardly aware she had moved. Her eyelids fluttered down. From far off, she heard the sound of a woman's voice moaning with pleasure and realized, in a distant part of her mind, that the sound was rising from her own throat.
His arm went around her waist. It was the only thing keeping her on her feet.
She lost track of time. Had his mouth been moving over hers for a minute? An hour? A lifetime? She didn't know, didn't care.
He swung her into his arms, his mouth never leaving hers, and carried her down the hall to the bedroom.
He drew back the covers, and then, very gently, lowered her to the bed. "Rest well, cara." He brushed a kiss across her forehead and drew the covers up to her chin.
She was asleep before he turned out the light.
Taking a deep breath, Marisa stepped into Mr. Salazar's office. "Good morning."
He sat back in his chair and looked up at her. He was a handsome man in his mid-fifties, with wavy black hair and dark brown eyes. Working out kept him fit and trim.
He regarded her through narrowed eyes. "I trust you have a valid explanation for your absence."
"Yes, sir. I was called out of town rather abruptly."
He tapped his forefinger against the phone on his desk. "You couldn't call?"
"I'm sorry, sir, I know I should have called and explained, but there just wasn't time."
"Don't let it happen again."
"Yes, sir."
"I need to see the Walburg deposition this morning. And I'll need a copy of the Meekins bankruptcy. Oh, and call the Brownes and tell them I can't meet with them tomorrow afternoon. Ask them if Friday is all right."
"Yes, sir."
"And bring me a cup of coffee when you have time."
"Yes, sir."
He jerked his head toward the door. "Get on it."
With a nod, Marisa left the office, quietly closing the door behind her.
"Well, did he fire you?"
"No," Marisa said, grinning at Linda Hauf. Linda was married and had four sons. She had begun working for Salazar and Salazar two years ago, when her youngest son graduated from high school. It had started out as a part-time thing, but then Joe Salazar's secretary had quit and he had asked Linda if she wanted to work full-time. She and Linda had become good friends in the last year, although they didn't see each other much outside of the office.
"You're lucky," Linda said, rolling her eyes. "You should have heard him ranting and raving on Friday. I was sure you were history."
"He can't fire me," Marisa replied, laughing. "I know where all the bodies are buried." She regretted her choice of words as soon as she said them.
"So, where were you?"
"I got called out of town." Way out of town, Marisa mused. Standing here, surrounded by all the technology the world had to offer, her trip to the past seemed like a dream, but it had been all too real. "I'll talk to you at lunch."
"Right."
Back at her desk, Marisa located the Walburg deposition and the Meekins bankruptcy forms, poured a cup of coffee, no sugar, heavy on the milk. She delivered the papers and the coffee to Salazar, then