CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Henry lay on the big double-bed, arms behind his head, staring up at the ceiling. Next to him, one slim leg draped over his, Eva stared up into his chiseled face while her fingers absently played at the thick mat of hair covering his chest.
“Do you think we will ever have our own place?” she said wistfully.
He slowly lowered one hand from its position and stroked her hair. “Is that what you’d like? A little spread, breed horses perhaps? Grow beans?”
“Make love,” she said, “without having to forever worry about getting caught.”
“Yeah,” said Henry with feeling, “that would be something.”
“It is nothing but a dream, I know, but I so long for us to be together.”
“It could come true. If Quince rewards me when all of this is done.”
“You think he will?”
“I’m hopeful. I
