When the Devil Drives

She stood up gingerly. A man's robe in dark brown silk had beendraped across the foot of the bed, presumably for her use. She put iton, fastening the sash with fingers that totally lacked their usualdeftness. As she bent her head impatiently to enforce their obedience,she caught the whisper of a familiar and evocative scent from thefolds of the robe. So he still used the same cologne, she thought, hermind wincing from the memories it evoked.The door on the other side of the room stood half open. Presumablythat was the bathroom, and the source of the sounds which haddisturbed her. Moving with unwonted care, because she still feltfaintly groggy, Joanna made her way across the room and peepedround the door.Cal was standing at the basin, his only covering a towel draped roundhis hips. He was busy removing lather from his chin with long briskstrokes of the razor.He turned immediately, as if sensing her presence, and grinned at hersardonically. 'Good morning,' he said. 'I hope you spent a pleasantnight.'He'd made his greeting deliberately ambiguous, she thought crossly,as her face reddened involuntarily. But there was no point in beatingabout the bush. She had to know. She said, 'I don't understand.Exactly what took place?''We slept.' Cal rinsed away the lingering traces of lather, andsubjected the smoothness of his shave to a minute inspection iff themirror. 'You with chemical assistance, I with the benefit of a clearconscience.'She gave him a look of total disbelief. 'What the hell do youmean—chemical assistance?'