She was in them before he had them fully raised. A moment later her lips were clinging to his. Those lips were wide open, but there was no warmth or wetness on them or in them. For a moment the sudden shock of those lips against his almost killed Blade's desire. Then Elizabeth's hands came up and locked around the back of his neck. They drew his head forward and down, played in his chair, crept down under his collar. One hand moved away from his neck and around to his throat. Slim but nimble fingers undid the buttons of his shirt from the top down. Then they roamed over the muscle-layered chest and flat stomach, for Blade wore no undershirt.

If Elizabeth was doing this against her inclinations, she was not letting that stand in the way of doing it well. Blade felt his breath beginning to come fast, and felt a familiar warm ache swelling in his groin. He knew that if he looked down there would be another and more visible swelling in the front of his dark blue pants.

Elizabeth did look down. The hand that had been stroking Blade's chest moved down to where her eyes were aimed. The fingers stroked momentarily in this new place, then closed on Blade's zipper. A sharp metallic zzzzt, and the same fingers were reaching in to close around Blade's swollen member.

They were just as skilled there as they had been higher up. In fact, they were almost unbearable when they got inside Blade's shorts and began playing with his bare flesh. He had to bite back a gasp. Then he managed to grate out:

«For God's sake-you're half-naked-let me-«He was partly pretending to be half out of his mind with desire, but only partly.

Elizabeth understood and stepped away from him while he struggled out of his clothes. The sound of ripping cloth told him of another shirt gone to hell, but he was long past caring. Kicking and hurling his clothes wildly in all directions, in a few seconds he was wearing even less than Elizabeth.

Her eyes widened in unmistakable admiration at the sight of Blade's physique. It was an admiration as genuine as Blade's own arousal, but Blade knew that nothing would keep Elizabeth from carrying out whatever job she had been given-if any.

If any. Blade found himself hoping that the whole idea of an attempt against him was simply the result of his own overworked imagination. Elizabeth promised a first-class tumble, and damn it, he didn't want things complicated by anyone barging into the middle of it. He bloody well didn't!

He started to take Elizabeth in his arms again, but she pushed him away. Then she jerked the nightdress over her head. Before she could raise her hands again, Blade's arms closed around her, running down the satiny skin of her back to cup her full, round buttocks and pull her hard against him. She swallowed and threw her head back as his lips dipped to caress her throat. Her long hair fell down over her shoulders, whispering softly as their movements tossed it about. Blade felt his erection surge still higher, pressing firmly against her.

Then the kitchen window shattered with a splintering crash of glass. The sound of a human voice cursing in pain followed, then the thud of a body falling onto the kitchen floor.

Elizabeth screamed, in fright or perhaps in an effort to distract Blade. She tried to cling to Blade, dragging his arms down. He could take no chances now. His knee came up sharply into her stomach. At the same time he jerked both arms free and shoved hard. Elizabeth staggered back, half doubled over, then sat down on the rug with a thump, holding her stomach. As she did so, two men came charging out of the kitchen at a run.

Both wore workmen's clothes, but carried guns. Blade recognized the guns as Soviet-made dart throwers. And both the gunmen moved with the assured competence of men as fully professional as Blade himself.

Blade sidestepped the men so fast they had no chance to draw a bead on him. He darted across the path of the left-hand man, then closed. The man dropped into fighting stance and tried to bring his gun around. But he could not turn fast enough to match Blade's lightning reflexes. Blade's hands darted out and clamped shut. The man spun around again, but this time he let out a scream as Blade twisted his arm out of its socket. Then Blade's foot came up, smashing into the small of the man's back and sending him flying across the room.

He did not hit his comrade, but he did make the other flinch back and lose the aim he was drawing on Blade. Before the dart gun could swing to cover him and fire, Blade had closed with the second man. The edge of his right hand came down like an executioner's axe, and the gun went flying. It landed within easy reach of Elizabeth, but the man made the mistake of looking at Elizabeth for a fraction of a second too long. In that moment Blade leaped high in a karate spring-kick, driving his left foot into the man's stomach. Like a cannonball the man flew backward to crash into the wall. And like a half-empty sack he sagged limply down onto the floor.

Blade pivoted as he came down, then lunged at the dart gun. His fingers closed on it as new sounds exploded outside. Five gunshots erupted in rapid succession, two shotgun blasts, a brief sputter of automatic weapons. There was the unmistakable whoooom of a gasoline tank igniting, and a second later a long and terrible scream. The scream ended in a squashy thump, and after that came silence.

Blade picked Elizabeth up, carried her unresisting body to the couch, and pulled the nightdress back over her head. By the time he had retrieved a decent minimum of his own clothing, her eyes were beginning to focus again and her breathing had almost returned to normal. His voice was clipped and cool as he spoke to her.

«I think my friends have just taken care of the rest of your friends.»

«My friends?» she said dully.

«Yes. I don't know who they are, but we'll find out shortly. Those two with the dart guns, at least, are going to live to be questioned.»

«What-what about me?» she said, with a faint whimper.

«That depends. If you cooperate-«

«But my family-oh, God, why didn't I just kill myself when they asked me? Why, why, why?» And she burst into tears.

Blade could not help feeling sorry for her. Unless she was still acting, she had just confirmed his suspicions that she was an amateur, dragged into posing as bait by blackmail or threats. Now he had to find out who had done the blackmailing or threatening. And it was even more important to find out how much they knew about Richard Blade, and why they were after him.

If they were after him because he had been one of the best and deadliest agents of MI6 for twenty years, that was one thing. There were several like him. But if they were after him because they knew or suspected his role in Project Dimension X-that was something far different, far worse.

It was far worse because Richard Blade was the only living man who could travel into other dimensions.