The Waiting Game

by Jayne Ann Krentz

  Sara shivered. „You mean the fact that someone knows who I am and managed to find me in the crowd at the market?“

  „Exactly. We have to assume someone followed us. Probably from your uncle’s cabin. Must have been watching it. The freeway was busy coming into Seattle today. It would have been hard to spot a tail if I’d had the sense to be looking for one.“

  Adrian’s self-disgust was plain in his voice and it bothered Sara. „If s certainly not your fault that man found me in the market. For heaven’s sake, don’t blame yourself, Adrian.“

  „Well, he’s not going to find you alone again.“

  „What are you talking about?“

  „I’m going to start doing my job,“ he stated resolutely.

  She smiled. „You mean keep an eye on me?“

  „Umm. You’ll stay at my place, not the inn, while we wait for Lowell to get in touch. I don’t want you out of my sight again.“

  Sara absorbed the deep determination in his voice and knew he meant every word. Adrian had decided he had a job to do, so he was going to do it properly. That meant in his mind that he had to be in complete control of the situation. She would be spending the next few days with him. On the whole, she wasn’t inclined to object at the moment. The man in the market had scared her. The relief of having Adrian appear at the critical moment was still with her. She wouldn’t forget that sensation soon. The instinctive knowledge that he offered safety and protection was one more element to add to her growing list of things that seemed to fascinate her about Adrian Saville.

  „What do we do about him?“ she asked after a moment.

  „The man you think is Wolf?“ Adrian shrugged negligently. „Nothing right now. There isn’t anything we can do except take care to keep him away from you.“

  „But we have no idea when Uncle Lowell will get back from wherever it is he’s gone. We can’t just wait indefinitely,“ she protested.

  „Sara, honey, a long time ago I learned the value of patience. We’ll wait.“

  „I think we ought to do something, Adrian.“

  „We’ll wait,“ he repeated stonily.

  „But that man seemed to know where Uncle Lowell was,“ she pointed out.

  „If that character knew where your uncle was, why would he need you?“ Adrian asked simply.

  „Good point. Why would he need me?“

  „Possibly because he intended to use you to lure your uncle out into the open.“

  Sara swallowed uneasily. „You have a devious turn of mind, Adrian.“

  „Umm. Probably an occupational hazard of being a writer of thrillers.“

  „So we wait?“

  „It’s either that or try the police – and your uncle specifically asked us not to do that.“

  „I doubt there’s much they could do anyway,“ Sara said unhappily.

  „No, I don’t think there is.“

  „I guess we’ll have to start locking your front door, won’t we?“ she offered, trying to keep her tone light.

  „Lock the front door?“ He glanced at her quizzically. „Oh, you mean the door you walked through so easily the other night.“

  „No offense, Adrian, but I got the distinct impression you haven’t had to be too security conscious on your island,“ she said gently.

  „Don’t worry about it. You’ll be safe. There’s an alarm system installed. Lowell helped me install it a year ago.“

  „It wasn’t on the night I walked in the front door?“

  „It was on.“

  „But I never heard an alarm and no police came,“ she protested.

  „My system works on a slightly different principle from most alarm setups.“

  „What principle?“ She was deeply curious now.

  Adrian parked the car inside the ferry and reached for the door handle. „The idea that it’s sometimes simpler and more effective to trap an intruder inside the house than attempt to keep him out. I can set it in reverse mode, however, and keep intruders out just as easily as I can let them in. When I’m inside the house I set it that way. But when I’m gone, I use the first setting.“

  She blinked, not finding the idea either simple or effective sounding. But what did she know about alarm detection systems, Sara asked herself. „I see,“ she responded vaguely. „If I had tried to get back out of the house the other night, would I have found myself trapped?“

  His mouth picked up at the corners in one of his brief flashes of humor as he helped her out of the car. „Weren’t you?“

  „Hardly. I mean, you just walked in and happened to find me in your study,“ she grumbled. He was leading her up to the passenger deck and it was hard to hear him distinctly in the noisy stairwell.

  „I knew where you were in the house before I came through my own front door, Sara. I carry an electronic device that warns me when the system’s been activated. The device starts working within a mile of the house.“

  „Really?“ She was impressed.

  „You never had a chance,“ he drawled.

  She laughed. „Is that supposed to reassure me?“

  „If you don’t like my alarm system, blame your uncle. He’s the one who helped design it.“

  „It sounds like something he’d come up with,“ Sara admitted. „It’s that sense of humor of his. It would be just like him to design a system that can reverse the general principles of burglar detection. It fits in with some of his other theories, such as hiding something right out in the open where the whole world will see and overlook it. Well, if you’re convinced it’s safe, I’ll trust your judgment.“

  „I’ll take care of you, Sara,“ he said very seriously.

  He meant it, Sara realized. The knowledge touched her on a very deep, perhaps primitive level. She hadn’t met a lot of men who would say that sort of thing these days. And if they did say it, a woman couldn’t risk believing it completely. Adrian Saville, Sara decided, meant it. And she could trust him.

  She thought of something as they took a seat in the passenger section where they could watch the Seattle skyline recede into the distance. „Did you remember the pasta?“

  „How could I forget the featured item in my celebration dinner?“ he asked whimsically.

  In spite of the unnerving scene at the public market, Sara found herself enthusiastically preparing her specialty pasta and vegetable dish later that evening. Adrian poured each of them a glass of wine and lounged in the kitchen, watching as she put the finishing touches on his dinner. He seemed to be fascinated with her every move. The kitchen took on a cozy feeling that made Sara almost forget her fear that afternoon.

  „I can see you’re going to expand my culinary horizons,“ Adrian noted as he sat down at the kitchen table he had set while Sara had fixed the Parmesan-flavored sauce for the pasta. „This sure beats macaroni and cheese.“

  „When did you stop eating meat?“ she asked casually. Too late she remembered the last time she had asked him a question on the subject he had cut her off rather quickly.

  „A little over a year ago,“ he answered calmly.

  Relieved that he didn’t seem to be taking offense over the issue, she decided to risk another question. She couldn’t seem to stop wondering about every aspect of this man, Sara realized. „You don’t miss it?“

  „No.“ He plucked up a spinach leaf from the salad bowl. „Great dressing on the salad.“

  „Thank you.“ She hesitated and then tried again, delicately. „Did you just suddenly lose your taste for meat?“

  „In a way.“ He eyed her silently as she sat down. „I was going through my mid-life crisis at the time. When I emerged, a lot of things in my life had changed. I quit my job, moved to a new state, started a book and decided I really preferred being a vegetarian.“

  „All those changes sound wonderful.“ She smiled. „I’m in the mood for some massive changes myself. Have you ever married?“

  He arched his eyebrows as he forked up a mouthful of pasta.

  „Sorry. I didn’t mean to pry,“ Sar
a mumbled, lowering her eyes to her plate. It was difficult to know just how far she could push with this man.

  „It’s all right,“ he surprised her by saying after a moment. „I’m just not used to personal questions. No, I’ve never married. There’s never been time. What about you?“

  „No. I always seem to be changing careers and that tends to keep the available pool of men changing, too. The right one never seemed to come along.“

  „You’ll know him when you find him?“

  „Definitely.“ Sara laughed softly. „Uncle Lowell has been telling me for two years that the right man never was going to come along in the world in which I was living. He’s always been a bad influence on me. Just ask my parents. They think I get my occasional bursts of unpredictability and unconventional behavior from his side of the family.“

  Adrian nodded. „He can be unpredictable and unconventional but he has a way of getting things done. He really did give you to me, Sara. I’m not making that up.“

  The camaraderie she had been feeling faded into a new kind of uneasiness. „It was a joke, Adrian. I’m sure of it. Even Uncle Lowell wouldn’t go that far.“

  „Then why the matching gifts?“

  „The crystal apples? They probably just took his fancy in some shop and he decided to buy a couple.“

  „He told me he had them specially made by a craftsman on the coast who works in glass,“ Adrian said.

  „Adrian, I really don’t know why he would give us a matching set of crystal apples, but I don’t see that it matters one way or the other!“

  „And what about that message on the tape at his cottage? The bit about protecting our wedding gift?“

  „Now that,“ she admitted dryly, „was fairly bizarre. Your guess is as good as mine. But knowing Uncle Lowell, he was probably referring to something obvious.“

  „It would be just like him,“ Adrian agreed thoughtfully.

  „When he shows up,“ Sara went on forcefully, „I’m going to have a few pointed remarks to make to him.“

  It was after dinner that Sara began to experience a strange nervousness. She knew the focus of it was the inevitable approach of bedtime and the necessity of making a dignified exit that was neither provocative nor rude. You learned to distinguish such subtle variations of behavior when you’d been through as many different careers as she had, she decided ruefully.

  It wasn’t that she was expecting a heavy-handed pass from Adrian. He didn’t seem to do things heavy-handedly as far as she could tell. Just very deliberately. He certainly wouldn’t pressure her into bed. But there was no denying the sexual tension that now existed between them, and if he alluded to it, she would find it difficult to deny.

  The graceful approach was to keep things light and casual, she decided. That’s the tone she would strive to maintain. After this first night it would be easier. Tonight would set the tone for the rest of her stay under his roof. She sensed it instinctively.

  „Ah, a checkerboard,“ she exclaimed as she followed him into the living room after dinner. It struck her as the perfect answer to the question of how to spend the rest of the evening. „Are you any good?“

  „At checkers? Fair, I guess. I’ll give you a couple of games.“ Adrian poured two brandies and carried them across the room to the table where Sara was busily setting up the game. „I’ve played your uncle a few times.“

  „He prefers chess.“

  „So do I, usually.“

  „I only played it during my college years,“ she confided cheerfully. „It seemed to fit the academic image. Haven’t played it since. I didn’t really like it.“ She lined up the checkers in their little squares. „All that business about strategy and having to think several moves ahead was far too much like work to me. When I play games, I like to play.“

  „I see.“ He gave her a half-questioning, half-amused glance. „Checkers may be simpler but it’s a game of strategy, too.“

  „You play it your way and I’ll play it mine,“ she ordered, reaching out to make the first move.

  Four games later they faced each other across the width of the table. Adrian’s expression was one of wry wariness. Sara was feeling quite cheerful.

  „That’s two wins apiece,“ she pointed out. „One more game to settle the matter.“

  „Who the hell taught you to play?“ he grumbled as he set out his pieces.

  „I’m strictly self-taught,“ she acknowledged brightly. In truth, she was secretly pleased with her two victories. They had been achieved with wild, haphazard moves that clearly offended her opponent, who had won his two games with careful, precise strategy.

  „It shows. You didn’t win those two games with hard work. You got lucky on some wild moves. You have an extremely off-the-wall manner of playing, if you don’t mind my saying so.“

  „You’re just envious of my inborn talent. The way you play, a person would think the fate of the nation hinged on your next move. You’re much too serious about the game, Adrian. You’d have more fun if you’d just loosen up a bit.“

  He looked at her, light eyes intent. „I’m afraid I tend to be a serious sort of man.“

  „Not given to fun and games?“

  „No.“

  Sara caught her breath as she realized that they were suddenly inexplicably discussing more than a game of checkers. For reasons she didn’t want to analyze she was afraid of the new direction. Desperately she tried to find a casual way of turning the conversation around before it strayed into the realm of the personal again. „Well, we’ll see whose approach works best with this next game. I warn you, I’m going to be at my most off-the-wall!“

  „In the long run, strategy and planning always succeed more often than wild luck, Sara.“

  „Prove it,“ she challenged rashly.

  He shrugged and proceeded to do so. Fifteen minutes later Sara was left staring in vast annoyance at the board. She didn’t have one single playing piece left on it. Adrian had beaten her with cool, deliberate ease, never relenting for a moment. Every move from first to last had been plotted and carried out with ruthless intent. Her cheerfully haphazard approach had netted her only a few of his playing pieces. Even those, she was convinced, he had deliberately sacrificed at various points to lure her into traps he had set.

  „I demand a replay! You don’t play fair. You play exactly like my uncle.“

  „What’s unfair about it?“ he asked, tossing the checkers back into the box.

  „I don’t know, but there must be something sneaky and underhanded about all that strategy,“ she complained. „It must be quite terrifying when you and Uncle Lowell play together.“

  „The games tend to last a long time,“ Adrian said with a faint smile.

  „Who wins?“

  „We’re fairly evenly matched.“

  „You mean you win frequently?“ she asked curiously.

  „Umm.“

  „That’s interesting. I don’t know of anyone who can consistently beat Uncle Lowell at checkers or any other game. But sometimes I can take him,“ she added proudly.

  „With one of your wild moves?“

  „Yes.“ She grinned. „The thing about people who always use intense strategy is that you can occasionally upset them with my technique.“

  „Only occasionally. Not consistently,“ Adrian informed her politely. „You got lucky twice tonight, but that was about the best you could do, playing with your style.“

  „Something tells me that people who play with your style will never appreciate people who play my way.“

  And on that note, Sara decided suddenly, she had probably better make her gracious, unprovocative exit to the bedroom he had given her earlier.

  Chapter Five

  Adrian watched moodily as Sara went off to bed and wondered how he was going to get to sleep himself. When she had disappeared into the bedroom, he sprawled in an armchair and considered having another brandy. He needed something to squelch the restlessness that seemed to be thrumming through his veins.
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br />   This sensation was far worse than the disoriented feeling he’d had when he’d finally finished the book and put it in the mail. Then he’d felt suddenly at loose ends, as if everything had ended too quickly. But tonight’s uneasiness was multiplied a hundred times by the dull ache of desire.

  He could not remember the last time he’d desired a woman as intensely as he wanted Sara.

  Adrian stared across the room at the waiting brandy bottle and decided against pouring himself another glass. He needed it, but this was not the night to indulge. Not when he was standing guard over a lady who had no real conception of the kind of trouble that might be waiting outside the door.

  „Kincaid, you old devil, you really pulled out all the stops this time, didn’t you?“ he muttered, leaning his head back against the chair. „Who or what are you hunting?“

  Whoever Kincaid’s quarry was, Adrian didn’t have any doubts about the outcome. Lowell had been out of the business for a long time, but he’d once been the best there was at what he did. He’d get his man. In the meantime, Adrian knew exactly what was required of himself. Kincaid had assigned him the task in that phone message. His responsibility was to take care of Sara.

  „We also serve who only sit and wait,“ he paraphrased, mockingly solemn.

  The fact that someone had actually approached Sara that afternoon was eating at him, fueling his unease and gnawing at his mind. His instincts were to run with her, take her as far away as he could, and hide her well. But when he left emotion out of the process and concentrated on logic, he knew she was safest here in the house. The alarm system Kincaid had helped him install was good. The best. The place was a walled fortress. Actually, when he thought about it, most of his life had become a walled fortress. Strong, secure, protected, with everything under control.

  Until he’d walked into his den the other evening and found the lady with the crystal apple standing in the filtered gold of a setting sun.

  He really should be trying to get some sleep, Adrian thought. He wasn’t doing himself any good sitting here fantasizing about a woman with an apple. And there was no need to stay on guard all night in this chair. There would be ample warning if anyone tried to get to Sara while she was here. But somehow the thought of going off to a lonely bed was depressing. It didn’t make any sense, because he was used to a lonely bed. But tonight the prospect bothered him.