The air outside her apartment was thick with smoke from tear gas and burning cars. The rioters were building barricades on the streets with anything they could find, even tires they ripped off cars before setting fire to them. Streets were blocked and there were seething crowds everywhere. The riot police wearing helmets and shields turned the water cannons on them after that, which barely slowed them down. The regular rioters had gas masks to protect them from the tear gas. They had come prepared, with sledgehammers to destroy cars and bus stop shelters wherever they passed. The riot police were herding them away from her building, but Mike wasn’t reassured by what he was seeing, and glad he had picked up the gun at the embassy.

They peeked outside between the shutters again, and it was a madhouse on the street. Her security guards were alert and observing at the windows. People were digging cobblestones out of the pavement and throwing them through windows, some of them wrapped in oil-soaked flaming rags to set fires in apartments once they landed. Theo’s security had placed fire extinguishers next to each window.

“Let’s stand back from the windows, Theo,” Mike told her. They could hear rocks and cobblestones hitting the walls of the building, as they aimed at the windows. He was standing close to her in her study so they could both see between the shutters, and it was a narrow opening. As she turned away from the windows with him close behind her, she found herself in his arms, looking up at him, her body pressed against his. Closing his arms around her seemed like the most natural thing to both of them. Their resistance melted away and vanished in the same moment, as he kissed her, and felt so overwhelmed with desire for her, that he couldn’t stop kissing her, and she felt as though she’d been starving for him all her life. They were both out of breath when they stopped, and they looked surprised. Neither of them had expected it to happen or wanted it to stop.

“Oh, Theo,” he whispered to her, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that.” He had tried so hard to resist her and failed.

“Yes you should have.” She held him tightly and she kissed him this time, and the floodgates opened all over again. They could both feel the dam breaking with all the pent-up emotions of years in his case, and longer than she had admitted to herself in hers. Matthieu’s last escapade in Moscow had broken something in her that she suspected might never have repaired even if he had lived. All she knew now was that she had never been so overwhelmed by passion in her life. There were tear gas cannons exploding outside, and an explosion in their minds and bodies inside. He wanted her then and there, and knew he had to stop. He forced himself to pull away from her, and could barely do it. She had bewitched him body and soul.