She backed away and glanced about the hall, her head swimming from desperation. “Next?”
She shot a quick look at him and saw that his large, thickly lashed eyes were watching her with determined patience, the challenge barely concealed. “My dressing room.”
They moved farther down the hall. Again he reached past her into a dark entrance. The scent of fine colognes and fabrics added to the basic male appeal of the scent of his skin. The soft overhead light came on.
She looked distractedly into a wonderland of mirrors, closets, racks of clothes, racks of shoes, shelves filled with hats, open drawers spilling linen handkerchiefs and even … a black wicker clothes hamper in one corner, where a single black sock dangled, caught under the lid. “You see,” he said beside her, his voice an amused rumble. “A dirty sock, just as you hoped to find. Aren’t you reassured that I’m human, vulnerable?”
Tears rose in her eyes. “I wish it was that simple. I would love to be reassured. I would love to—” Her voice broke. “But I’m only making a fool of myself. Forgive me for coming here tonight. I must be losing my mind.”
“Elena,” he said hoarsely, and it was a stark change from the teasing, the seduction, the charade. The sorrow in it broke her control, and she turned blindly, intent on leaving before recklessness overtook her. He caught her arms from behind. “Elena, there are a thousand things I wish I could say and do to make you happy.”
She twisted her head to look at him, and he made her lean against his bare chest in the process. She bit back a soft moan and said, “But none of them suits your plans—whatever those are.”
“I won’t hurt you. I swear I won’t.”
Being cared for had never been so tormenting. He didn’t want to hurt her? But he didn’t want to love her, either, or share any part of his life with her. How badly he had hurt her already, without knowing it.
“Please let go of me. Please.”
He dropped his hands but didn’t move away. She was forced to make the hard step out of his reach, when the greedy, reckless part of her soul was demanding that she stay, if he’d have her. He didn’t even want to take her to bed, for fear of hurting her, he’d said. She was some kind of emotional cripple to him.
She walked swiftly up the hall, checking the tie of her robe, pulling the creamy lapels closer over her breasts. She felt as if he’d made love to her, and it seemed strange to be dressed. He strode after her, right on her heels, to the front room. Balanced on the balls of her feet for escape, she stopped by the double doors. “Good night.” She looked up into his angry, sad, hypnotizing green eyes, and nearly sagged against him. “I know you thought I’d admit some fascinating secret. I apologize for wasting your time.”
“If you don’t leave, we’ll be in bed together within the next five minutes, and neither of us will care if making love is an unwise thing to do.”
Knowing what he said was true, she dragged the doors open and stumbled, in her hurry to leave. He caught her elbow to keep her from falling. “Take care, dove.” He sounded miserable. She pulled away and kept going without looking back, almost running down the big, empty hall.
She sat in front of the vanity mirror in her bathroom, trying to apply the eye makeup Mr. Rex had given her. Her hand shook, and she finally laid the mauve pencil down in defeat.
She hadn’t seen Audubon all day. In fact, she’d had to stay in her suite and play cards with Elgiva Kincaid until the florist and caterer had made their deliveries for the party. The party was in her honor. The party that was nothing more than an excuse for Audubon to present her to his curious cronies. They didn’t know about her unusual abilities, so they were probably baffled over their friend’s interest in hiding an average, ordinary Russian secretary. Maybe they thought he had lost a few of his expensive marbles, even.
Cronies. Lost marbles. She was learning American slang. And learning how to dress like a wealthy American woman. She looked over at the long, white taffeta skirt and fitted black jacket that waited on quilted hangers hooked over the door. The jacket had real onyx buttons up the back, and intricate gold piping swirled up the front in abstract patterns.
From her black patent shoes to her new hairstyle she’d be fashionable, just like the women in Audubon’s social set, and no one at this party would gawk at her ugliness. But that didn’t mean she’d impress anyone with her social skills. She didn’t have any social skills.
A few minutes later, Elgiva came to the suite and rescued her from the makeup chores. Elgiva made no claim to glamour, but she achieved it anyway. Her tall, curvaceous body was swathed in soft blue satin, sapphires gleaming in her ears, her mane of auburn hair twisted up in a loose, wispy style.
She plunked down next to Elena on the vanity bench and sang under her breath as she dabbed makeup on Elena’s closed eyes. “My Douglas and I are pregnant! I just told him today.”
Elena gave her a hug. “I’m very happy for you, my friend.”
“I’m 36 years old, you see, and I never had children with my first husband. Twelve years—I was sure it was my fault.” Elgiva’s expression grew wistful. “When Douglas and I married I didna’ know if we’d have any bairns together, and I told him so. The lovely man promised it didna’ matter, but a year ago we decided to try. I was beginning to be afraid nothing would happen.” She patted her abdomen. “But it did happen. Two months. The wee babe is two months along. I waited until it was absolutely certain before I told Douglas.”
“He’s very happy, I’m sure.”
“Happy?” Elgiva laughed with pure joy. “There’s no word to describe how happy we are.”
“I’d like to have children someday. And a husband. I suppose anything’s possible, now that I’m free.” But she didn’t feel very free, or like marrying anyone. Other than Audubon. It was alarming how much that daydream had taken hold of her thoughts lately.
Elgiva put an arm around her. “You look so sad. You do love Audubon, I can see it.”
Elena shuddered with defeat. She could tell Elgiva, at least. “Yes. Isn’t that something? I waited a lifetime to find him, and he doesn’t want me.”
“Nooo, or I must be blind, and Douglas too. And just wait until the old gang sees Audubon with you. Ask them if they’ve ever witnessed the like before.”
“Who are they, really? Audubon is in the business of rescuing people—he told me about it. It’s safe for you to explain a little.”
Elgiva hesitated, then sighed. “The crew you’ll meet are all retired agents of his. All of them had backgrounds in the military or the police before coming to work for Audubon. They worked for him for many years, but none are older than himself. It’s a tough business, and the ones you’ll meet tonight were wise to let fresh people take their places. Though Audubon has never forgiven a one of them for leaving him.”
“Why?”
“They all went off and got married. He will no’ have a married agent working for him—it’s his rule. The work’s too demanding and too dangerous, he says. And too confidential. But it goads him that his old friends left him. He’s like a race horse who’s still racing when the others are enjoying themselves in the pasture.”
“I’ll make them like me.”
“They’ll like you just as you are, lass. Relax.”
Elena smiled as if it was that simple, but she already had a plan. She looked at her slender, tapering hands, pretty by most standards, but nothing special. Tonight, using every control technique she had learned over the years, she’d focus the wonderful power that poured through them. She’d win the friendship of Audubon’s elite circle and prove to him she was worthy. She could hurt herself if she wasn’t careful, but taking risks was what freedom—and love—was all about.
He could only think about Elena, about bringing her downstairs to meet his guests, about making certain they liked her. Not that he doubted their loyalty; each of the dozen men he’d invited here tonight would gladly help her if anything happened to him. But he wanted them to see her as the strong, courageous, bea
utiful person she was. None of them knew about her unique gift, and didn’t need to know, right now. Maybe later, if the situation became desperate.
But he wanted to preserve her secret, the secret only he and she shared. The men here tonight, and their remarkable wives, only needed to know that Elena was his treasure, even if he didn’t admit she was also his love.
They would have trouble believing Audubon could feel love—blinding, sentimental love. It would have made them choke on their champagne, if he announced it. He wasn’t about to. Better that no one knew, considering how dim the future was. They had heard about Kash, that he was still missing. He was another of the reasons they’d traveled from their far-flung homes to see Audubon.
A glowing amber sunset had just disappeared into the horizon when the last of the guests arrived in limousines from the airport. In the great room that opened into the pool house they talked in small groups, enjoying their reunion the way old soldiers enjoy rehashing battles, the wives listening patiently, as Bernard replenished trays of hors d’oeuvres and tended bar.
Audubon picked a rosebud from an arrangement on a sofa table, tucked it in the lapel of his black tuxedo, then realized his mistake and hurriedly laid the rosebud aside. He stared at vases filled with flowers all over the room. Good Lord, a disaster. The buds would burst into bloom; the blooms would widen until they looked as if they’d been mashed flat.
No. He’d forgotten—Elena had come to her senses. That had been clear last night. She hadn’t been swayed by him. She’d run. He’d let her go. Perhaps the flowers wouldn’t go wild tonight.
Depressed, he moved among his guests with the detached graciousness they knew well and didn’t misinterpret as arrogance. They understood he was happy to see them and welcomed them all. His home had been their headquarters for many years, and each of them had worked there, even lived there briefly, at times.
The former agents were an entirely male group from the old days, and Audubon was always a little sorry he hadn’t begun hiring women until the past few years. He’d feared he’d worry about women agents more than men—an inescapable character trait of his, part masculine instinct, part upbringing. But the women he now employed had added a valuable perspective to the work; women were better negotiators, more likely to settle problems with words instead of force.
Or, in the case of Elena, likely to settle problems with a devastating hands-on power. He eyed the group with a startling new perspective; For the first time, he was glad they were all married and very much in love with their wives. His surge of possessiveness toward Elena would have caused tension, if there’d been an eligible bachelor among the group.
Elgiva entered the room, went to Douglas, who had not worked for Audubon but was essentially his partner, and he swept her up in his arms and kissed her several times while she laughed. Audubon had been waiting eagerly for Elgiva to come downstairs; now he had to force himself not to hurry over to her and demand information on Elena’s readiness.
Douglas was grinning with delight at everyone, even Audubon. Audubon’s mood snapped and he strode over to them. Babies. Married people. Loneliness. Elena. “What is she doing up there, plotting the next Russian Revolution? Is anything wrong?”
Elgiva gave him an exasperated look from her happy place in Douglas’s arms. “She’s ready. I told her you’d be coming up to escort her.” He nodded and pivoted to leave, but she grasped his sleeve. “Audubon, she’s so shy that she’s—I could swear that she’s vibrating. Oh, I know it sounds foolish, but she seems so nervous, no, not nervous, exactly. Agh! Go see for yourself. Maybe she’s coming down with a fever. When I helped her put on her makeup, her face felt hot. You ask her if she’s all right, will you?”
He didn’t have to ask. He knew what was happening—the energy, the heat—but he didn’t know why. If she was gearing up for something, he doubted it had to do with him.
Elena had the suite door open before he finished knocking. She almost winced at the surprised look he gave her. She hadn’t started this important evening on a very sophisticated note, flinging the door back in her anxiety to see him.
“Very, very nice,” he said after a moment, and she realized that he was referring to the way she looked, as his gaze traveled down the short black bodice with its fitted sleeves and the flowing white skirt. He brushed a fingertip across the braided gold design that curled from the stand-up collar down the jacket’s front. “It has a certain stern, Victorian quality.” His voice became husky and sly. “But the textures hint at something sensual, perhaps even wild, underneath.”
His hand dropped to his side. She got herself under control and gave his devastating body, in its devastating black tuxedo, a cool appraisal. Finally her gaze halted on his lapel. “No boutonniere? I told you your flowers would be safe around me.”
“Can you really turn the power off whenever you want?”
She smoothed her skirt and looked away, the danger too close. He mustn’t worry about her and believe Kriloff’s dark hints. “I’m not a toaster, Audubon. I don’t have a switch. But I’m quite capable of taking care of myself and my gift.”
“Hmmm, so defensive. Well, come along. Your party is waiting.” He shut the door for her as she stepped into the hall, then held out his arm. She lightly tucked her hand around his elbow. She looked away from his intense scrutiny and concentrated on maintaining her reserve.
“Very good,” he murmured as they reached the wide staircase to the main floor. “You’ve wrapped a nice little shield around it, haven’t you?” He sounded more angry than pleased.
“For now. Perhaps I’ll start shooting off invisible lightning bolts when I meet your friends. Are any of them unmarried?”
“I’m afraid not.”
They were halfway down the long staircase. He halted, turned toward her, and said with unflustered command, “We’ll find you a suitable man, but not tonight.”
“We? Is that the royal ‘we,’ your lordship?”
“You and I. You asked me to teach you how to attract American men. But not tonight.”
She swallowed a painful little sound and stared straight ahead. She’d asked for that, provoked it. But was he serious? “I’ll try not to be a temptress.”
“A wise decision. The wives will appreciate it.”
Wrapped in brittle silence, they went downstairs and through the opulent central hall to the back of the house. When they entered the great room with all its grandeur, two dozen of the most elegant men and women she’d ever seen stopped their conversations and studied her with what seemed like shocked expressions. Her legs turned rubbery. She gripped Audubon’s arm hard.
Yes, she’d have to give dangerously close to everything, to impress these friends of his.
When Audubon guided her into their midst and began introducing each to her, their names were a blur. She focused on their handshakes, and the puzzled smiles that followed told her they’d felt the comforting warmth, the reaching out. It was the same for the women as the men, a friendly little zap of energy, just enough to make them wonder if they’d really felt it, and be curious.
But there was one man with traces of hideous scars on a kind, handsome face, and the scars caught her off guard. Before she knew what was happening, he had taken her hand to squeeze it politely but she was melding hers to it, the urge to heal those scars racing through her fingertips like a gust of hot air escaping from a vent.
She couldn’t heal them—not scars—there was nothing to fix. She’d worked with scarred people to no avail. But the power reacted instinctively for those few seconds, until she willed it into obedience. She let go of his hand abruptly and curled her fingers shut.
“Kyle, are you all right?” asked his wife, Sara, a petite strawberry-blond with worry stamped on her elfin face. He rubbed his hands together and stared at them. “No more champagne for me. My fingers felt numb, or something.”
Elena coughed. “We Russian women have strong grips. We would do well in arm wrestling, dah?”
The group�
�s soft laughter was no antidote for the scowl on Audubon’s face. When she met his eyes, he sent a private look of warning her way. She gave him a prim smile that said she would do as she pleased. His friends couldn’t possibly guess what was happening when she touched them, and she would harmlessly create feelings of comfort and goodwill.
And wouldn’t harm herself, if she didn’t let her power get out of control.
After the introductions he took her to a group of sofas in front of the room’s massive fireplace. On a warm spring night there was no need for a fire, and considering her mood, no need for more warmth. One of the men sat down at the baby-grand piano in a corner and began playing a soft classical piece. Everyone else sat down around her.
She clasped her hands in her lap and tried to sound relaxed as she answered their pleasant questions. They only knew that she was a secretary from Moscow; she could be vague about the rest. Audubon was a stern presence who leaned against the fireplace mantel with his arms crossed, watching her through hooded eyes. A fox watching his prey, she thought with anger. Did he think she would embarrass him?
One of the wives sat down in the armchair close to where she sat on the sofa and spoke to her in halting Russian. Tess Surprise, that was her name. She had a headache, but she was gallantly ignoring it. Elena couldn’t. It was begging to be erased.
“How beautiful!” Elena said, and took her hand to admire a ring.
“It was a gift from my husband when our son was born last year. A blue diamond. I have a sentimental fondness for them, and …” Tess Surprise touched her forehead, frowned, then lifted her eyebrows and shrugged. Elena knew the headache was gone. “What was I saying?”
“It’s a lovely ring,” Elena coached.
“Oh, yes. Well, excuse me, I think I’ll run upstairs and see if Clarice is having any problem being a baby-sitter.” She left, looking thoughtful and confused. Her husband, Jeopard, followed her and shot Audubon a questioning look on the way out.
The Silver Fox and the Red-Hot Dove Page 12