A Dangerous Dance

by Pauline Baird Jones

  “Certainly. When did you need me to leave?” He'd managed to keep his face impassive, but he sounded unhappy. If they hadn't had an audience, he would have argued with her.

  “Right away. I'll get the envelope for you right after breakfast. You can take the company jet. I'll call and set it up. Thank you.” She smiled at him more gently than normal because of guilt at her relief. When had he stopped being her support and become an oppressive presence?

  “Right.” He stood up. “I'd better get ready then.”

  She smiled at him again. “You can finish your breakfast.”

  “I'm not hungry.” He didn't stalk out, he had too much self control, but he left an aura of unhappy in his wake.

  She exchanged a quick look with Remy, who was trying not to grin. He picked up the orange juice. “Can I pour you some?”

  She nodded, but looked at Kate. “You all right this morning?”

  Kate twitched, as if her thoughts were far away.

  “I'm fine. Was just thinking about all the things I need to do today. If you'll excuse me, I think I'll head into town. Unless you need me for something?” Her eyes twinkled with her awareness of Dorothy's subterfuge. Was there also relief in them?

  “Titus hasn't been giving you a hard time, too, has he?” Dorothy asked, with a slight frown. He had no right to be rude to her guests. If he pushed her too hard, she'd have to do something about him for sure.

  Kate shook her head. “No, of course not.”

  “He broods,” Remy said. “He smolders. It's like sharing space with a volcano.”

  Kate laughed. “Well, he does do that. But we are old friends.”

  Did she hesitate before that last word? Had they been more than friends? It was an intriguing thought. Once again Dorothy was reminded of how much she didn't know about the past.

  Kate stood up. “Is there anything I can do for you before I go?”

  Dorothy thanked her, but being alone with Remy was what she'd been hoping for. Though she was anxious to tell Remy about last night, she still waited until they were walking away from the house. Titus had assured her he'd thoroughly swept the house for bugs, but it was hard to relax there after everything that had happened. And there was much more staff wandering around. She did not want to be overheard. She wrote a note to her personal assistant, asking him to keep Titus busy for a few days, then sealed it in an envelope with some important looking sheets of paper and handed it to Titus.

  He took it, but now that they were alone, he made his pitch, as she'd expected. “I'm your bodyguard. I should be here.”

  “No one has done anything to threaten me. And I promise I'll be careful.” He didn't move. She stifled a sigh of impatience. “It's only for a couple of days. And I need you to do this for me. Please?”

  He did sigh. “Fine. Just...be careful.” He started toward the door, then stopped and looked back. “Do you trust Kate?

  Dorothy arched her brows. “I'm not sure.”

  He managed a slight smile for her. “Good. Go slow there.”

  “Do you know something, Titus?”

  He hesitated. “I'm just chronically suspicious.”

  She nodded, but didn't believe him. Darn his hide for always treating her like a kid. She was going to have to break him of that habit. But not right now. She met Remy in the hall, feeling the claustrophobia fall away from her as they stepped outside together. Once well clear of the house, she told him what Kate had told her last night.

  “Clever,” was his main comment. He stopped and looked at her. “Do you trust her?”

  “That's what Titus just asked me.” Dorothy frowned. “I told him, I'm not sure. There's more going on inside her than she's sharing. I'm just not sure it matters in our current situation.” She thought about telling him her feeling about Titus, but Remy had already moved on.

  “And Titus? Why did you get him out of the way?”

  Dorothy smiled. “I just needed a break from his brooding. And his hovering. In this life my father left me, sometimes it's hard to breathe for all the people around. They aren't bad people. Magus did a pretty good job of picking his employees, but they all still want or need something from me. I'm an introvert and it makes me tired.” She shook her head. This time it was her fault she was surrounded, but it didn't make it any easier to endure. “Titus didn't use to press so close. I guess he's feeling threatened by everything. I don't want to lose his friendship, but he needs to let me go. He needs to realize I'm a grownup now.”

  “He doesn't like me,” Remy said, though not overly concerned by it.

  “I am sorry. I haven't told him we're pretending. Maybe I should?”

  Remy considered this before shaking his head. “I think it will just make it harder for him to see us acting intimate. He'll think I'm taking advantage of the situation. He doesn't bother me, other than a reflexive impulse to pull his chain.” He looped an arm over her shoulder and they started walking again. He grinned at her. “I'm still working on controlling my baser self.”

  She laughed, liking the warm, sweet feeling that swept through her at his undemanding touch. He offered support without asking for anything in return, and all without words. Though she hoped he wouldn't try too hard to control that baser self. She rather liked that part of him, too.

  She walked for a while, then sighed. They needed to get down to business.

  “Kate thinks she neutralized the Bozo threat. And she believed him when he said he wasn't involved with Vance.”

  “Do you believe her?” Remy asked, lifting a branch out of her way.

  “I believe she believes it—which isn't really an answer, is it? I'd be more comfortable with real proof. I wish we could figure out what Vance was trying to tell Vonda.”

  “I've been looking in to that. There's no record of anyone claiming to be his mother, either visiting him or writing to him.”

  “I wonder why he asked her to contact his mother then?”

  “There was one visitor to him right after he was first arrested that was...interesting,” Remy said.

  Dorothy stopped, turning to face him. “Who?”

  “Your housekeeper, Helene Tierry.”

  Dorothy felt her jaw drop, but she couldn't help it. “Helene. Our housekeeper visited him in jail?”

  “That's right. I think our first visit today, ought to be to her, don't you?”

  “Oh yeah!”

  Dorothy was so stunned by this, she didn't notice at first that they were still stopped, still facing each other and that Remy was staring at her.

  “What?” she said, feeling warmth sweep through her again at the look in his eyes.

  His grin was crooked and edged with wry. “I'm trying to think of all the reasons why I shouldn't kiss you again. It's that baser self rearing its ugly head again.”

  “Oh.” She looked away, then back at him. “I'm afraid I can't help you. I have my own baser self to deal with.”

  “Really?” Remy's smile turned satisfied as he stepped closer to her. He touched her lightly at first, his fingers dancing up her arms, before connecting with her shoulders. He pulled her close, but not touching. Perhaps he knew, as she did, that would take them too far. She met his gaze as she waited for him to kiss her.

  “How come I didn't see what you were ten years ago?”

  She shrugged, fighting back the impulse to trace the line of his mouth with her tingling finger tips. “I didn't know who I was then. How could you?”

  “You're too forgiving. I was an arrogant jerk.”

  “If you don't quit talking and kiss me, I'll be forced to agree.”

  He chuckled, sliding his hands up to cradle either side of her face. He bent her head to one side, his to the other, and brought their mouths together.

  Sweet heat spread out from the point of contact, turning her limbs fluid and making her head spin. She could feel her feet lift from the ground. It felt like she was floating, possibly soaring, but when he pulled back, her feet settled once more on terra firma. Her lips missed him, e
ven as her brain understood the need for oxygen and self control.

  “That was very nice,” she said. “How come I didn't know that about you ten years ago?”

  He grinned. “I didn't know it either. You have a strange effect on me.”

  “I'd love to pursue that,” she said with a sigh, “but we should get going. I'm dying to talk to Helene.”

  Remy traced the line of her cheek before stepping back from her. Her skin felt cold and a bit forlorn with the contact. More than anything, she wanted to turn back into his arms and stay there, but duty called. And she always did her duty.

  * * * *

  Bozo Luc had eluded him and Darius wasn't happy about that. He'd anticipated that Bozo would run, but underestimated how quickly. His flight had been...precipitous. It was almost as if he'd sensed the threat Darius posed to him. Bozo hadn't been afraid of him in the past. Odd that he should start now. And annoying. Now he didn't know what information he was missing, but for now, he needed time to consider what he did know.

  The arrival of Emma's sister, Kate interested him very much. He needed to meet her. She must have more information to share than Bozo had let on. As if his wish gave birth to reality, his intercom buzzed. A Ms. Kate Needham to see him.

  How interesting.

  His blood quickened in anticipation. It was an odd feeling and a new one for him. It had only started happening since he killed Suzanne. It was as if every woman he met became a potential victim. He'd even found himself studying the help, wondering how they'd look as they died. Now two of his maids had given notice. He should modify his behavior, but it was so new and fascinating to him, he didn't want to stop. Maybe if it cost him his housekeeper.

  Darius found Kate waiting in his living room. He stopped in the doorway, studying her. The room didn't suit her. It was all black and white and very cool. Despite her gray hair, she was warm and vibrant. Very much alive. Just feeling the pulse of her blood through her veins ignited that part of him that wanted to stamp out life.

  She had her back to him, but she had a straight, graceful figure. Was she the older or younger sister? To his knowledge, Emma had never mentioned a sister. It had been twenty-eight years since he'd parted with Emma, but with Dorothy's arrival on the scene, it seemed like yesterday. Had he hoped this Kate would be Emma? It was possible, he supposed.

  As if she sensed his scrutiny, she turned to face him.

  “Hello, Darius.” Her violet eyes were calm and curious.

  Emma's eyes. So that's what Bozo hadn't told him. There was no Kate, there was only Emma. Inside, he absorbed the shock of it. It rocked him to his core. Outside, he refused to even blink as she studied him, perhaps surprised by what time had wrought on his aspect?

  With her hand, she brushed the cold leather of his dark couch. “Interesting place you have here. A bit chilly. Not how I remember you.”

  Her eyes reminded him of what they'd shared—how very far from chilly he'd been that night she came to him. For the first time since he strangled Suzanne, he found himself looking at a woman and not thinking about killing her. His gaze probed her face, her eyes, searching for the woman he remembered, trying to find the passion that had obsessed him for twenty-eight years.

  And failing.

  He strolled toward her, but stopped when each step closer revealed her age in more detail. He didn't want to remember her this way. She should have stayed dead.

  “You're not how I remember either...Emma.”

  She shrugged. “Time. It's a bitch, isn't it?”

  Had she always been this hard? He turned toward the bar. “Can I offer you something? We should toast our reunion, don't you think?” He looked at her, one brow arched.

  The way she walked toward him was as graceful as he remembered. Almost he could forget she was old. Almost.

  “I'll have tonic water, if you have it.”

  She kept her distance, and the bar, between them. The morning light wasn't kind. Time hadn't been either. Who she was now, threatened to blur who she'd been inside his head. If he didn't have Dorothy to hold on to, he might have lost her completely.

  Now he found himself wondering what death would do to her—if he could bring himself to wrap his hands around her sagging throat. He supposed she was well preserved...for her age, but it wasn't enough for him. He expected better from the women in his life. She was hardly worth killing now.

  He handed her a glass, then clicked his against it, before lifting it to his lips. He watched her lift hers, watched her lips close around the rim, then the movement of her throat as she swallowed.

  And still felt nothing. Not even the urge to kill her.

  Though he'd force himself to do it if he felt any threat from her. But neither of them would get any pleasure from it. It was a pity, but also a relief. It was, he realized, Dorothy he wanted now. From Emma, all he needed was the truth.

  Thankfully, she didn't come on to him, just studied him as he studied her. That amused him. If he didn't know from personal experience that she was a woman, he'd say she had balls.

  He gestured for her to take a seat, and then sat down opposite her. “I guess the rumors of your death were exaggerated.”

  “When Magus threw me out, I went to my sister's. That's where Dorothy was born. When she offered to keep her, raise her as her own, I was grateful to agree. I didn't need a kid slowing me down. We switched identities, because we didn't have the money to do the legal stuff. I became Kate. She became Emma.”

  “And presented me with a puzzle.”

  She arched a brow in a mute question. It was a sad shadow of how she'd looked that night, an echo of the way she'd offered herself to him.

  “Of how you could have changed from sex kitten to domesticated mommy.”

  She laughed and that was the same. For a moment he felt a stirring in his loins, but he made the mistake of looking at her and the impulse died. He hadn't expected this, that his passion for her would be so tied to how she looked. Was it a reflection on him or her? Probably both, he decided.

  “And were you Kate or Emma when you had your liaison with Verrol Vance?”

  Both brows arched this time. “So Bozo called you. He's such a little weasel.” She leaned back, stretching in a sad mimicry of the past. “Actually, I never knew Vance at all. I just told him that to pull his chain.”

  He smiled. “I'm sure he deserved it.” He hesitated, before saying as if it didn't matter, “So you don't have anything from Vance?”

  Her lashes lifted, as did her shoulders. Again, the movements were both familiar and alien.

  “Is it likely I would have, even if we had done the deed?”

  He lifted his glass, took a drink, and said, “No, it's not likely.”

  She leaned forward, her head tilted to one side. “So you're curious, too?”

  “Am I? About what?” This was pure Emma. It almost made him forget her age.

  “About who hired Vance, of course? You always did like knowing things.”

  So she didn't suspect him. That was a relief, he realized. Beyond his distaste about touching her, he really didn't want to kill her. For old time's sake? Or just because he once loved her? If it was love. It was all mixed up inside his head now, the past and the present. And in the middle of it all, there was Dorothy, who looked so much like the Emma of the past. He didn't like feeling confused. He didn't just like clarity. He needed it. He needed to know what was expedient and what wasn't.

  Her eyes watched him as she added, “That's not to say I wouldn't have, if I had met him. I was doing anything and everything to get Magus's attention. I was such a fool.”

  “Is that what I was to you?” It was a kick in the gut. He was over her, but she wasn't supposed to be over him. He could see her considering what answer to give.

  “The truth, Emma. I can take it.” But could he? He didn't know.

  “Okay, that's all you were. That's all any of you were. I'm sorry, but that's the way it was.”

  Others. There'd been others? How many, he wond
ered. And why didn't I know? “What others?”

  Her brows arched. “Surely you knew? Bozo, Bubba Joe, the milkman. I think I even did it with the pool boy. And Magus never noticed.”

  He saw the hurt in the back of her eyes and it pleased him. Good, he thought, you should suffer for your sins. How dare she use him like that? Suddenly the idea of squeezing her throat until her eyes went blank was interesting again.

  “Why did you tell him when you got pregnant? That was stupid.”

  “I may have been a slut, but I was an honest one.” She shrugged and tossed back the rest of her drink and got to her feet.

  He stood. “Why didn't you come back when Magus died?”

  He found he was curious. He'd never known her, not really. He'd created her, made her what he wanted her to be. Was he in danger of doing the same thing with Dorothy? For just an instant, he wondered if he should proceed, but then he realized, he had the power to shape her. She was young and, unlike Emma, she wouldn't be leaving him. She would become what he wanted or die. It was as simple as that.

  She looked down for the first time since she'd walked in. “I met someone. We got married. It was better if my past stayed in the past.”

  “And why are you here now?”

  She hesitated and shrugged. “I'm getting old. I found I was curious about this person Magus and I created out of our angry passion.”

  “It's not because you need money, then?”

  The edges of her mouth turned up. “Well, there is that, too.” Her mouth curved into a real smile. “You always did see through me, didn't you?”

  He felt a rush of relief. She hadn't known. He'd been a fool only to himself. For that, he'd let her live and walk out the door.

  “What did Bozo try to do?”

  “He didn't tell you.” She shook her head. “He had a faked paternity test. As if Magus would ever have taken her in if she hadn't been his. So I made him back off.”

  “Why did you care?”