He embraced and kissed her, unmindful of her wetness. “What was that all about?” she asked when she could take a breath. “It’s been a long time since you came home at noon for a quickie.” “This isn’t about a quickie,” Paul replied, kissing her again. “How would you feel about a week in the best hotel in Paris?” “Can we afford it?” “We can, for two reasons. One, I have just been handed the biggest, most lucrative estate job of my life, and two, the job includes investigating a piece of jewelry in Paris.” “What piece of jewelry?” “Wait right here.” “May I put some clothes on?” “You may, if you’re not interested in a quickie.” He went into his study, to the shelves where he kept a large library of art books, and came back with one on Klimt. She was still naked when he got back to the bathroom.
