"What projects?" I said weakly."Well, for instance," she said, still smiling, "I thought the Sandman project was particularly fine. I suspected you'd ...eed that little spell sooner or later." You did?" I managed what I hoped would pass for a smile myself. Might as well go with the flow, that's what I usually do."On the other hand," she said, "I thought the fellow who asked you for Beth's phone number was way out of line." Oh, no. She read my fan mail, too. (Well, of course I get fan mail. You. Where was he? What was he doing? “Sweetheart?” I whispered. “Shush,” came the reply. Obedient for once, I shushed. Then I felt something hot next to my cheek. Not touching, just giving out heat and an intense whiff of scent. I momentarily worried about flameproof sheets and smoke alarms, but was distracted by his next words. “Are you ready?” “What for?” He didn’t answer, but I suddenly felt a searing heat on my bare stomach. “Jesus fuck…” I burst out, but he hushed me. “Don’t move, just. More

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