“Will do. By the way, your friend Felicity is upstairs, sacked out in your bed. She got here a couple of hours ago, with company: There’s a man in your study and another in the garden, pretending to read a book.”

“Swell. I need some sack time, myself, so hang on to my phone messages.” He took the elevator upstairs, and as he stepped out of it he felt cold steel on the back of his neck. “I’m Barrington,” he said.

“ID?”

Stone showed the man his driver’s license. “I’ll take over your duty up here. Why don’t you make yourself comfortable in the library, downstairs?”

“All right,” the man replied, then headed for the stairs.

Stone went into the bedroom as quietly as possible. Carpenter lay on her belly, breathing softly. Stone undressed, got into bed, and lay down beside her.

“Welcome home, sailor,” Carpenter said sleepily. “I suppose you want a sailor’s welcome?”

Stone lay on his side and cupped a buttock in his hand. “Nothing too strenuous,” he said. “I am, after all, home from the sea.” He moved his fingers up and down between her cheeks, and she made an appreciative noise. He explored a little further and found her already wet.

She rolled over on her side and pressed her buttocks into his crotch, reaching between her legs for him.

A moment later he was inside her, feeling her cheeks pushing against his belly as they moved together. He reached around and found her clitoris, then, while kissing her on the back of the neck, continued moving in and out of her while letting his fingers do the walking.

Carpenter began moving faster, and a moment later, came in little whimpers, while he joined her. They lay still for a minute or two, then she rolled over and nestled in his arms. “An Englishman would never have started that way,” she said. “It would have been the missionary position or nothing, not that I have anything against the evangelical. How did your trip go?”

“Later,” Stone breathed. “Don’t you know that sex renders men unconscious?” He took a deep breath, and by the time he had exhaled, he was asleep.

26

Her traveling companions arrived at the Hampstead safe house six hours before their departure time. Marie-Thérèse met the husband and baby, but not the wife, who was taken to another room. She played with the nine-month-old baby girl, whose name was Jasmine, talking to her in Arabic, making her feel comfortable with her temporary mother. Marie-Thérèse had always liked children, and she got on very well with the baby.

She went through her legend with the young man, whose name was, rather unfortunately, Saddam, discussing details of his wife’s background. Saddam seemed very pleased to be in her company.