She raised herself on her toes and whispered urgently in his ear.
He looked at the clock, then he shook his head. “Not now,” he said gently.
Her cool arms tightened, pulling his head down. “Please…” she said, very low. “Now.”
He put his lips gently on hers and pressed her to him, but his mind was elsewhere. He was thinking of Gleason, of Morgan, of the money, of how he was going to slip out of town. He was surprised at her. He thought this was a hell of a time to start a thing like this.
Then he put up his hands and took her arms from his neck, and pushed her away, still holding her arms.
“Tonight,” he said firmly. “Look at the time. I’ve gotta get to the bank.”
A faint colour came to her face, and she didn’t look at him. She turned away. “The bank will be shut, won’t it?” she said, still keeping her back to him. He noticed how toneless her voice was.
“Yeah, but I fixed that. There’s an audit that’s keeping ’em late. The teller there’s a pal of mine. I warned him I might want the list late.”
He wandered over to her. “You ain’t sore with me?” he said gently, putting his arms round her.
She turned her head. She was still flushed. “No. I’m not sore.” Then she said fiercely, “If only it were all over. If only we were out of this with the money, and safe.”