The Ugly Duckling

by Iris Johansen

  He smiled without mirth. “Isn’t it comforting to know you have someone to blame besides Maritz?”

  It would be comforting. She wished with all her being she could lay the fault at his feet. “I don’t blame you. It wasn’t your fault.”

  She saw the surprise in his expression. “That’s very generous.”

  “I’m not being generous. You didn’t know. You weren’t there when Maritz came.”

  “But I could have been.”

  “Yes, you could have been. If you want to feel guilty, then go ahead.” She added fiercely, “I want you to feel guilty. Maybe then you’ll help me find Maritz.”

  “Forget it.”

  “I won’t forget it. I’m going to—”

  He had already left the room.

  Her heart was beating hard and she could feel the blood pounding in her veins. He had broken through the icy shell of composure that had protected her, but that didn’t matter.

  He knew Maritz. He could point the path to him. She would find a way to make sure he did just that.

  She reached for the elastic exercise bands on the nightstand and slipped the stirrup over her left foot. She was getting stronger every day. She even used the bands when she couldn’t sleep at night.

  Sleep was no longer welcome now that the dreams had started to come.

  Joel smiled slyly when he saw Nicholas’s expression. “You seem a tad upset. Was I exaggerating?”

  “No,” he said shortly.

  “As I said, I don’t like that control.”

  “What?” He recalled the coolness with which Nell had greeted him. But that composure hadn’t lasted after she had gone on the attack. He had been aware only of that single-minded determination and unrelenting will.

  Then you won’t go after him with the same passion.

  Oh, yes, she had passion, the same blind passion that had driven Joan of Arc to the stake.

  Joel shook his head. “I said that I don’t like that—”

  “I heard you. I don’t think we need to worry about that. How long before she gets out of here?”

  “Another two weeks.”

  “Delay it.”

  “Why?”

  “She’s not ready.” And he wasn’t ready. There was no question she wouldn’t give up and he would have to find a way to deter her. “Can’t you discover a complication?”

  “No, I won’t lie to a patient. She’s already been here almost two months.” His smile held a faint shade of malice. “What’s wrong, Nicholas? After all, you told me she was no powerhouse, just a nice, gentle woman.”

  Nicholas wasn’t sure what Nell Calder had become, but she had changed enough to make him uneasy as hell. “Knock it off, Joel. I need help here.”

  “Not by compromising my professional ethics.”

  “Then don’t lie to her. She’s still got broken bones. Tell her you want her to stay here until they’re fully healed. It’s not as if you need the bed.”

  Joel thought about it. “I suppose I could do that.”

  “Has she met Tania?” Nicholas asked.

  “Not yet.”

  “Throw them together as soon as possible.”

  “Another woman’s influence?”

  “Another survivor’s influence.” He turned and motioned to Phil. “Keep a close eye on her.”

  Phil looked hurt. “I’m taking good care of Nell, Nick.”

  “I know you are.” Nicholas smiled. “Just make sure she doesn’t slip away without anyone knowing about it. Okay?”

  Phil nodded. “I like her. I told her I majored in computer science in college and she’s real interested. She’s been asking me all kinds of questions about computers.”

  An interest in computers would guarantee Phil’s affection. “What kind of questions?”

  Phil shrugged. “Just questions.”

  Maybe her interest was without any hidden purpose. Or maybe she had instinctively zeroed in on a way to gain Phil’s friendship. He wouldn’t have thought such machinations were possible for the woman he had met on Medas, but Nell was now an unknown quantity. “Just keep close watch on her.”

  “You know I will.” Phil went back into Nell’s room.

  “Nice guy,” Joel said. “And a good nurse.”

  “You sound surprised. I told you that you’d like him.” He shifted back to the original subject. “You’ll bring in Tania?”

  “Why not? She’s been wanting to meet Nell.” He paused. “You’re worried about what she’ll do when I release her and she’s no longer under protection. She knows someone tried to murder her. Surely she won’t be rash.”

  “Rash? Yes, I think you might use that word. Although suicidal is probably more accurate.”

  “You know who tried to kill her,” Joel said slowly. His eyes widened. “You told her?”

  “Domino effect. I had to give her something. Besides, she deserved to know.”

  Joel shook his head. “Big mistake.”

  “Maybe. I’ve made a few.” He started toward the elevators. “But now the only important thing is damage control.”

  “Wait. You had a telephone call.” Joel searched in his jacket and found the message. “Jamie Reardon. He’s in London and wants you to call him back right away.”

  Nicholas took the message. “May I use your office?”

  “By all means.” Joel gestured to a door down the hall. “I live only to be of use to you, Nicholas.”

  “I’m glad you’ve finally accepted that,” Nicholas said, poker-faced, as he strode toward the office. “You were a little slow in the beginning.”

  He heard Joel’s muttered curse behind him.

  He was still smiling when he reached Jamie. “You’ve found something?”

  “Conner got the name of Kabler’s informant in Gardeaux’s camp. He’s here in London. One Nigel Simpson, an accountant. Do you want me to try to negotiate to get him in our pocket as well as Kabler’s?”

  A surge of excitement flickered through Nicholas. “You’re certain it’s him?”

  “Conner says it’s him and that rabbit would be too scared to commit himself unless he was damn sure. Do you want me to approach Simpson?”

  “No, I’ll catch the next plane. Don’t let him out of your sight.”

  “No problem. He’s spending the night at his favorite call girl’s apartment. I don’t think he’ll be on the move.” Jamie chuckled. “Well, except inside the woman. I imagine she’ll inspire a bit of movement. She’s reputed to be a very kinky lady. I’ll be at 23 Milford Road. I’ll be driving one of the old black Rolls-Royce taxis.” He sighed. “They’re gradually disappearing, you know. They’re being replaced by sleek monstrosities with no sense of history. Sad.”

  “Just so Simpson doesn’t disappear.”

  “He won’t. Have I ever failed you?”

  “Ah, you are sitting up. That is good.”

  Nell looked up to see a tall, leggy brunette in the doorway.

  The woman was dressed in jeans, a man’s striped shirt with sleeves rolled up to the elbow, and a leather vest. She smiled. “May I come in? You don’t know me, but I feel as if I know you. I’m Tania Vlados.”

  The name was familiar. “You sent me the flowers.”

  The woman nodded and came forward. “Did you like them? I grew them myself.”

  Tania Vlados had a faint accent at odds with her very American attire. “They were lovely, Miss Vlados.”

  “Tania.” A smile lit her face. “I feel we are going to be great friends, and I’m always right.”

  “You are?”

  “My grandmother was a Gypsy and she used to tell me I did not have the sight but I have the sounding.” She dropped down in the chair. “That I hear echoes of the soul.”

  “How … interesting.”

  Tania chuckled. “You think I’m crazy. I don’t blame you. But it is true.”

  “Do you work here at the clinic?”

  “No, I work for Joel. I’m his housekeeper.” She stretched her legs out in fro
nt of her. “And before you ask, that doesn’t mean I occupy his bed as well as his house.”

  She stared at her, shocked. “I would never ask a question like that.”

  “No? You’d be surprised how many people do. There’s no privacy left in the world.” Her eyes glinted with mischief. “Most of the time I tell them I do. It drives Joel insane. He’s old-fashioned, you know.”

  “No, I didn’t know.”

  She nodded. “You do not notice much during the first weeks. You are too full of sadness. It was so with me.”

  Nell stiffened. “You’re no housekeeper. You’re another one of those psychiatrists Joel’s been sending in here. Well, you can just leave. I don’t want to talk to you.”

  “Psychiatrist?” She smiled with amusement. “I have no use for them either. When I was here healing, Joel tried to get me to see one and I sent him packing.”

  “You were a patient here?”

  “I was pretty badly scarred when I was brought here from Sarajevo, but Joel fixed me.” She grinned. “Now I intend to fix him. Is he not splendid?”

  Splendid was not a word she would associate with Joel Lieber. “I guess. I think he’s very nice.”

  “He’s more than that. He has a great heart. This is very rare. He is like a rose. It is wonderful seeing—”

  “Well, are you ready for the great unveiling?” Joel asked as he strode into the room.

  “Yes,” Tania said eagerly.

  Joel gave her a quelling look. “I was addressing my patient.”

  “I’m ready,” Nell said.

  “I hope you don’t mind Tania being present when I take off the bandages. She’s been badgering me to let her come to see you since the operation.”

  “I feel a vested interest,” Tania said. “Joel let me help plan your new face. I told him to keep the mouth. You have a great mouth.”

  “Thank you.” Her lips twitched with amusement. “But I gather you told him to scrap the rest?”

  “More or less.”

  Joel shook his head. “Tactful, always tactful.”

  Why, she was actually smiling, Nell realized, shocked. A genuine smile, not like the ones she had forced to show she was returning to normalcy.

  Tania’s shrewd gaze was fastened on Nell’s face. “It is all right,” she said quietly. “You will learn that laughter is no betrayal.” Before Nell could answer, Tania turned to Joel. “She thinks you are very nice but not a rose.”

  “A rose?” he repeated.

  “You are a rose. I’ve thought so from the moment I met you. You have facets and inner beauty unfolding all the time.”

  He looked at her in horror.

  “Of course you do not smell like a rose. More like eucalyptus, but I—”

  “I’ll get a wheelchair.” He fled the room.

  Tania stood up. “He was funny, yes? It is strange how men cannot bear being compared to flowers. I don’t see why flowers should be thought only feminine.”

  “I admit I found the simile a little unusual.” She was still smiling. “But interesting.”

  “Joel needs to be shaken up regularly.” Tania helped her slip on a pink bed jacket and buttoned the top button. “Brilliant doctors become accustomed to awe and adulation. It is very bad for them.” She nodded approvingly. “I like this bed jacket. All bed jackets should be pink. We all need color when we wake in the morning. It is a good choice.”

  “I’m afraid I can’t take any credit for it. It just appeared.”

  She grinned. “I was praising myself. I chose it.”

  “Perhaps you thought I’d look like a rose?”

  “Ah, a little humor. This is good.” She shook her head. “No, Joel is my only rose. I will decide later what—”

  “Here we are.” Joel entered the room with Phil in attendance, pushing a wheelchair. Joel cast Tania a stern glance. “Do you suppose you can conduct yourself in a decorous manner?”

  “No.” Tania watched as Phil gently transferred Nell to the wheelchair. “I’m too excited.”

  “Are you?” Joel smiled indulgently.

  Why, he loves her, Nell thought suddenly. The look they were exchanging was warm and loving and as full of understanding as if they had been married fifty years. She felt a wrenching pang as she realized that she and Richard had never exchanged a look like that. Perhaps, given time, they might have—

  “There, now we are ready.” Tania tucked a blanket around Nell’s knees and waved to Phil. “Take her. We will follow.”

  “Do you like it?” Tania asked eagerly.

  Nell stared at the stranger in the mirror, stunned.

  “You don’t like it.” Tania’s face fell.

  “Hush,” Joel said. “Give her a chance.”

  Nell reached up and gingerly touched her cheek.

  “If you don’t like it, it’s my fault,” Tania said. “Joel did beautiful work.”

  “Yes,” Nell said. “Wonderful work. The line of the cheekbone is magnificent.” She realized she was speaking as impersonally as if she were complimenting a sculpture. It was the way she felt. The face in the mirror was a work of art, totally fascinating, almost … bewitching. Only her brown eyes and mouth were the same. No, that wasn’t true either. The faint tilt at the corners made her eyes seem larger and the color more vibrant. And her mouth looked startlingly vulnerable and sensual in comparison to the high planes of her cheeks and jaw.

  She touched her eyelid. “What did you do here? It’s darker.”

  “A little cosmetic surgery.” Joel grimaced. “Tania thought you should have permanent eyeliner on the upper lid and underneath the eye in case you went swimming. Heaven forbid you don’t look perfect in the water.”

  “It’s only the faintest line. It looks very natural,” Tania said quickly. “I thought we might as well go the whole way.”

  “I see.” They were both looking at her expectantly. “I look quite … glamorous. I never dreamed—”

  “I showed you the computer printout,” Joel said.

  She only vaguely remembered. “I didn’t really think—I don’t suppose I thought about it at all.”

  “It will take time to become accustomed to it. If you need counseling, I’ll—”

  Tania made a rude noise.

  Joel ignored her. “As I said, this drastic a change can be a bit traumatic. You may need help dealing with it.”

  “Thank you, I won’t need help.” It was not as if this were going to change her life. Yet before Medas, it might have done just that, she thought suddenly. The face Joel had given her was the stuff of dreams for any ugly duckling. Beauty translated to confidence, and she had been miserably lacking in that quality. Not now. Rage also empowered. She had no doubt she could do whatever was necessary. “Though I may do a double take whenever I pass a mirror.”

  “So will every man within a hundred yards,” Joel said dryly. “You may need a bodyguard for more reasons than Nicholas thinks.”

  “Bodyguard?”

  “I imagine Phil is doing double duty. Nicholas wanted you protected.”

  She frowned. “Phil was hired by Nicholas Tanek?”

  Joel nodded. “Phil used to work for Nicholas. You should feel very safe. Nicholas doesn’t make mistakes in that area.”

  “And he’s paying Phil’s salary?”

  “Don’t worry, he’s picking up the tab for all your medical bills.”

  “He most certainly is not. Send the bills to me.”

  “Let Nicholas pay,” Tania said. “Joel is very expensive.”

  “I can afford it. I have a little money my mother left me.” She shifted her gaze to Tania. “You know Tanek?”

  Tania nodded. “For years,” she said absently, her gaze on Nell’s hair. “We must go downstairs to the salon tomorrow and get rid of the gray.”

  “What gray?” Nell looked back at the mirror. She stiffened as she noticed the gray that threaded the hair at her left temple.

  “You did not have it before?” Tania asked quietly.

 
“No.”

  “It happens sometimes. My aunt’s hair turned entirely white after her husband was killed in front of her.” She smiled. “It’s only a few threads. I think a light frosting will look wonderful in that brown hair, and everyone will think you’re très chic.”

  “It doesn’t matter.”

  “Of course it does. I won’t have that face I designed in a poor frame.” She turned to Joel. “It is all right?”

  “You’re consulting me? I thought it was all decided.” He nodded. “I suppose it will be okay.”

  Tania turned back to Nell. “Ten tomorrow? I’ll make the appointment.”

  Nell hesitated. She had no urgent desire to cover a few gray hairs. Yet it was clear Tania would be disappointed if her creation was marred in any way, and Nell liked the woman. What was more unusual, she felt comfortable with her. “If you like.”

  “Oh, I do.” She beamed. “And you’ll like it too. I promise.”

  “Your taxi, Mr. Simpson.” Jamie opened the door with a flourish. “And isn’t it a fine day, sir?”

  Nigel Simpson frowned. “I didn’t call for a taxi.”

  “No, I believe it was a lady who called.”

  Perhaps Christine had called while he was in the shower. She was always accommodating after their sessions. She believed in honey poured as a balm to soothe the sting. He smiled as he remembered how exciting she’d proved last night. The woman was bloody magnificent. He got into the taxi.

  Tanek!

  Nigel’s hand flew to the doorknob.

  Tanek put his hand on Nigel’s arm. “No disturbance,” he said gently. “It would make me most unhappy. I take it you recognize me? How? I don’t think we’ve ever met.”

  Nigel moistened his lips. “You were pointed out to me last year when you were in London.”

  “By Gardeaux?”

  “I don’t know any Gardeaux.”

  “I think you do. Jamie, why don’t we take a little drive through the park and perhaps Mr. Simpson will remember.”

  Jamie nodded and got in the driver’s seat.

  “I won’t remember,” Nigel said. He forced a laugh. “You’ve mistaken me for someone else.”

  “Was it Gardeaux who pointed me out to you?”

  “No, I told you—” He broke off as he met Tanek’s eyes. He was sitting motionless and his tone had been soft, almost casual, but Nigel was suddenly terrified. “I don’t know anything. Pull over, I want out of this taxi.”