"I only saw this one," Susan said.

"Then you better give me that one," Matt said. "And wait in the bathroom. Or get under the blankets."

She looked at him doubtfully, then looked around for her discarded clothing.

"Where're my clothes?"

"I kicked them under the bed," he said matter-of-factly, then smiled and went on. "Come on, give me the robe. The cow already got out of the barn. I know what you've got hidden under there."

She turned her back on him, unfastened the robe, and, aware that she was blushing again, shrugged out of it and ran to the bathroom.

"What do you want to eat?"

"What do I want to eat eat?" she parroted incredulously. "Eat?"

"They do a nice standing rib," he said. "Okay?"

"I just don't give a d.a.m.n," she confessed, and closed the bathroom door.

Feeling dizzy and a little faint, but no longer nauseous, Susan leaned against the closed bathroom door. This gave her a view of herself in the mirrors over the sink.

For a moment, she seriously considered that she might be having a bad dream. That was obviously not the case.

But I can't believe any of this is happening! Either what happened in the car, or that I came to the room, or what happened here. Anything that happened here, from letting him undress me through what happened after he did, to that clever little unbelievable line, "The cops are onto you, fair maiden."

She was vaguely conscious of hearing him order dinner-New England-style clam chowder, not the kind with tomatoes, medium-rare beef, baked potatoes, asparagus, and a large pot of coffee-and couldn't believe that, either.

How the h.e.l.l can he even think of food at a time like this?

And then he was trying to push the bathroom door open against the weight of her body.

"Hey, you all right, Susan?" he asked, and there was concern in his voice.

"What do you want?"

"I thought you might want the robe back."

"Just a minute," she said, and pushed herself off the door and went after a towel.

Before she reached it, he had pushed the door open. Susan tried to cover herself modestly with her hands.

"Ta-ta!" Matt cried. "The Mad Flasher strikes again!"

Using both hands, he pulled the bathrobe open wide.

Under it, his private parts were now concealed by his shorts.

"You're insane," she said, but she smiled and reached for the robe as he shrugged out of it.

"Your maidenly modesty is really a waste of effort, you know. I have seen what I have seen, and it is burned indelibly for all eternity on my brain."

"You really are insane, aren't you?" Susan said.

Why am I pleased that he liked what he saw? And for that matter, why am I not really all that embarra.s.sed about him seeing me naked?

Matt went back into the bedroom, and as she fastened the robe around her, she saw him going into the sitting room. She combed her hair as best she could, then went into the bedroom.

Where she found that he had indeed kicked her clothing under the bed. The first thing she retrieved was her bra.s.siere.

And saw he had torn it off: the b.u.t.tonhole on the strap between the cups was ripped open.

She found her underpants and pulled them on under the terry-cloth robe and went into the sitting room.

He was pouring champagne. He picked up both gla.s.ses and held one out to her.

"I'm not sure I want this," she said.

"What shall we drink to?" he asked, ignoring her.

"What is there to celebrate?"

"Us, maybe? Or am I really alone in thinking that something really special happened to both of us in the last twenty-four hours?"

"Matt, I'm afraid to believe you about . . . what you said," she said.

"I told you I think I love you after I told you that bulls.h.i.t time is over," he said. "You can believe that."

"I don't know what happened to me," Susan said.

"The question is was it special for you? Half as special, maybe, as it was for me?"

"What do you think?" she asked softly.

"I don't know what to think. That's why I asked."

"The last time somebody put his hands in my pants in a car was when I was in high school. I hit him with a flashlight and knocked out two of his teeth."

"Is that a yes?"

"I came up here with you, didn't I? And you know what happened."

"In that case, we have just taken step one," Matt said. "Which I think we should commemorate with a swallow of the bubbly, and, if you're so inclined, with a friendly kiss."

"A friendly friendly kiss?" kiss?"

"Boy Scout's honor," he said, and stepped close to her.

She looked into his eyes for a long moment, then kissed him, very chastely, on the lips.

That was and that wasn't. It was closed-mouthed and gentle, but I felt it all the way down to my crotch.

If he kisses me again, or puts his hand inside the bathrobe, we'll be back in the sack again.

Matt touched his gla.s.s to hers.

"Well, at least we have our priorities right. First the kiss, and then the champagne."

"And now what?" Susan asked.

"We wait for dinner to be delivered," he said. "And meanwhile, we try to start to find some kind of a solution to our dilemma."

"And how do we do that?"

"You start by trusting me," he said, looking into her eyes. "You really don't have any choice, but I want you to really understand that."

She averted her eyes by lowering them.

"Are you constantly in that state?" she blurted.

"I just kissed you," he said. "And it happened." He snapped his fingers. "Just like that. Ah-ten-hut! Ah-ten-hut! And then, feeling n.o.ble as h.e.l.l, I resisted the enormous urge to pick you up and carry you back to bed." And then, feeling n.o.ble as h.e.l.l, I resisted the enormous urge to pick you up and carry you back to bed."

"That wouldn't be smart, would it?" Susan asked, raising her eyes from his erection to his eyes.

"Not right now, but you could easily talk me out of that position."

"Maybe that's all it is," she said. "Unbridled l.u.s.t. On both sides."

"Maybe," he said very seriously. "I think there's more, but if that's all there is, that's enough."

"I don't really know what you mean by trust you," she said.

"Well, that means I'm going to ask you questions, and you're going to answer them. The truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. You're not going to hold anything back. You've just changed sides, Susan. Chenowith and his friends are now the bad guys."

"I'm not sure I can do that," she said very softly.

"You don't have any choice, honey. What I'm trying to do is find some way to keep you from going down the toilet with them."

"What did you call me?"

"What?"

"You called me 'honey.' "

"I guess I did," Matt said. "Does that bother you?"

"No," she said after a just-perceptible hesitation. "No, Matt, it doesn't."

"I would be amenable to reciprocation," he said. "Does 'precious beloved' come easily to your lips?"

"No," she said, smiling. " 'Precious beloved'? My G.o.d!"

"There are many other possibilities," he said. "Think it over. Whatever makes you happy."

"All I can think of is 'honey,' " she said. "And that's awkward."

"Give it a shot."

"Honey," she said.

"Sounds great to me," he said. "Let's go with that for a while, until you think of something better."

She sensed that he was about to kiss her again, and turned her back to him.

"Matt, I can't betray them," she said.

"What happened to 'honey'?" he asked lightly, and then, his voice changing, added: "Get it through your head, honey, that they're going to jail. If they're lucky, the feds will let Pennsylvania try them. We don't often send people to the chair."

" 'We' don't?"

"We, the citizens of the Commonwealth of Pennsylvania," he said, rather unpleasantly. "Okay, first question. Did you have any prior knowledge that Chenowith was going to blow up the Biological Sciences building at the University of Pennsylvania?"

Susan shook her head and said, softly, "No."

"No knowledge of any kind? He-and when I say 'he,' read Chenowith, the sc.u.mbag with the acne, and either of the women. Or any friends we don't know about-never discussed this with you, even in idle conversation, with a couple of drinks in him? 'What we should do is blow up the building'?"

"I told you no, Matt," she said, then added, "G.o.d, you sound like a policeman."

"I am a policeman," he said. "I have to be absolutely sure of this, honey. Let me ask it in another way. When they blew up the Biological Sciences building, were you surprised, or did you sort of expect something like that to happen?"

"Matt, would you believe me if I said I'm sick about the Biological Sciences building? I was sick then, and I'm sick now."

He looked at her carefully, and she realized he was making up his mind whether or not to believe her. And then she saw in his eyes that he did.

"That wasn't the question, honey. The question was, did the bombing of the Biological Sciences building come to you as a surprise, or not?"

"I really didn't even know Bryan Chenowith when that happened," she said.

"Then how the h.e.l.l did you get involved with these people? Has he got something on you?"

"Now he does," she said.

"What?"

"I know what he did, and that the police are looking for him. Isn't that what you said-I'm an accessory after the fact, for helping him?"

"What's he got on you?"

"That I've been helping him."