“Let me go.”
“Be reasonable. If you look closely you will see that I am nearly forty kilos heavier than you are, and a lot taller. You are tough and strong-I’ve got to hand it to you-but I’m a hell of a sight stronger and tougher. What you want doesn’t matter.”
“What do you intend to do with me?”
“Talk to you. Yes, and I think I’ll kiss you.”
She answered this by giving a brief but entirely futile imitation of a small cyclone, with wildcat overtones. When it was over he said, “Put your face up.”
She did not. He took a handful of hair and snapped her head back. “No biting,” he warned, “or I’ll beat holy hell out of you.”
She did not bite him, but she did not help with the kiss either. “That,” he observed conversationally, “was practically a waste of time. You ‘independent’ girls don’t know anything about the art.”
“What’s wrong with the way I kiss?” she said darkly.
“Everything. I’d as lief kiss a twelve-year-old.”
“I can kiss all right if I want to.”
“I doubt it. I doubt if you’ve ever been kissed before. Men seldom make passes at girls that wear guns.”
“That’s not true.”
“Caught you on the raw, didn’t I? But it is true and you know it. See here-I’ll give you a chance to prove that I’m wrong, and then we’ll talk about letting you go.”
“You’re hurting my arm.”
“Well — ”
This kiss was longer than the first one, about eight times as long. Hamilton released her, drew his breath, and said nothing.
“Well?”
“Young lady,” he said slowly, “I’ve misjudged you. Twice, I’ve misjudged you.”
“Will you let me go now?”
“Let you go? That last deserves an encore.”
“That’s not fair.”
“My lady,” he said quite seriously, “‘fair’ is a purely abstract concept By the way, what is your name?”
“Longcourt Phyllis. You’re changing the subject.”
“How about the encore?”
“Oh, well!” He relaxed his hold on her completely. Nonetheless, it was as long and as breath-consuming as the last. At its conclusion she ran a hand through his hair, mussing it. “You heel,” she said. “You dirty heel!”
“From you, Phyllis, that’s a compliment. Have a drink?”,
“I could use one.”
He made a ceremony of selecting the liquor, fetching glasses, and pouring. He paused with his glass in the air. “Shall we pledge peace?”
She checked her own glass before it reached her mouth. “At this point? I think not. I want to catch you armed.”
“Oh, come now. You fought valiantly and were licked with honor. To be sure I slapped you, but you bit me. It’s even.”
“How about the kisses?”
He grinned. “That was an even exchange. Don’t be stuffy. I don’t want you hunting me down. Come on. Peace, and let bygones be bygones.” He raised his glass a trifle.
He caught her eye and she smiled in spite of herself. “All right-peace.”
“Have another drink?”
“No, thanks. I’ve got to go.”
“What’s the hurry?”
“I really must go. May I have my blazer now?”
He opened the oubliette, reached in, recovered it, and dusted it off. “It’s mine, you know. I won it.”
“You wouldn’t keep it, would you?”
“That’s what I mean,” he said, “about you armed women just pretending to take a man’s part. A man would never ask for his gun back. He would wear a brassard first.”
“Are you going to keep it?”
“No, but I wish you wouldn’t wear it.”
“Why not?”
“Because I want to take you to dinner tonight. I’d feel a fool, escorting an armed woman.”
She looked at him. “You’re an odd one, Hamilton Felix. Slap a girl around, then ask her to dinner.”
“You’ll come?”
“Yes, I’ll come.” She unsnapped her gun belt and tossed it to him. “Tube them back to me. The address is on the name-plate.”
“Twenty hundred?”
“Or a few minutes after.”
“Do you know, Phyllis,” he said as he dilated the door for her, “I have a feeling that you and I are going to have lots and lots of fun.”
She gave him a slow, sidelong look. “You’ll find out!”
CHAPTER FIVE