The porch was tile floored, deep and long. “Do you know this house?”
“Quite well,” he said as he unlocked one of the big double front doors. “It used to belong to a money launderer who washed a lot of dirty cash. He got twenty to life, but since he was already eighty-one, I don’t think he’s going to live out his sentence.”
Mike opened the door to a spectacular room. There was an envelope with his name on it on a little table by the door, and while he read it, Sara looked around.
There was one huge room, with a big kitchen in the back to the left, and a living room with a few pieces of white-upholstered furniture. In front of her the whole wall of the house was glass doors that led out to a garden that looked like paradise. Opening a door, she stepped out. To the left, almost hidden behind trees and shrubs that Sara had only seen growing as houseplants, was a swimming pool and a barbecue area. Straight ahead was an opening with a few steps down that she assumed led to a private area of beach.
Mike came out and stood beside her, but he didn’t touch her.
“What did your letter say?” she asked.
“Just explaining things. The upstairs has been divided into two apartments. In the north one lives a motorcycle patrolman and his pregnant wife. The south one contains one of the most successful counterfeiters who ever lived. He’s out on parole now but we keep watch over him. Did you see the rest of the inside?”
She followed him back into the house. Past the kitchen with its granite countertops were two bedroom suites, one of them quite large.
“This used to be Benny the Launderer’s office,” Mike said.
“And you know that because …?”
“I’m the one who brought him down. For an old guy, he put up one hell of a fight.”
Sara walked to the bed. It had a mattress on it, but no sheets or pillows. She ran her hand over the big mahogany headboard, her back to Mike, and wondered if she’d ever see the place after this trip. For all she knew, when the case was finished, Mike would kiss her cheek good-bye. Two weeks later, she’d receive papers for a divorce.
She turned back to him, fully intending to ask about their future together, but when she saw Mike’s eyes, all thoughts left her mind.
She took a step toward him, and the next second he made a running leap as he grabbed her about the waist and they landed on the bed together. Laughing, Sar
a didn’t have time to catch her breath as Mike began to kiss her. She pushed against him, trying to get closer. They’d only been apart a day and a half, but she’d missed him terribly.
When her skirt came up and she felt Mike’s hand on her bare thigh, her passion was ignited. Seconds later, their clothes were in a heap on the floor and her hands were braced against the headboard. Mike’s thrusts were as deep and as frantic as she felt.
They came together and, as before, he put his mouth over hers to keep her from crying out.
When their shudders had calmed, he pulled her down onto the bed beside him, her head against his bare chest.
Sara lay snuggled against him, her hand stroking his magnificent chest, her fingers feeling the contours of his muscles.
Mike picked up her hand and kissed her fingertips.
“So some FBI agent was to get this apartment?” she asked.
“Yeah.” Mike was grinning.
“Does that mean the rent is affordable?”
“This house was confiscated and now belongs to the U.S. government, and I’m to act as jailer to ol’ Henry the counterfeiter. As I have to make sure he doesn’t create any more fake hundred-dollar bills, the rent is minimum. And as an apology for burning all my stuff, they gave me a check for fifteen grand. Want to help me buy some essentials?”
“Great!” she said. “Sheets, pillowcases, food. Is there any cookware?”
“I’ll go see,” he said and headed toward the kitchen.
Sara had the enormous pleasure of watching him walk out of the room nude, and when he returned, the sight of the naked front of him made her slide down on the bed.
“Every kitchen cabinet and drawer is empty,” he said as he went into the bathroom. “And if you don’t stop looking at me like that the stores will be closed by the time we get out of here.”
“Really?” she said.
He stuck his head around the door. “Last one in the shower has to cook dinner.”