by Judith Gould
The marble floors were covered with a multitude of Turkish kilims, some running over others. Even the table had been draped with a richly colored kilim that looked unbelievably beautiful.
Tonight is special, all right, she told herself. She didn't think she'd ever eaten in such magnificent surroundings, and the combination of the opulent with the earthy only made its appeal seem that much more luxurious and exotic.
"I don't believe it," Wyn had said when he greeted her at the door. "You're wearing a djellaba. It's perfect for tonight. Perfect!"
"Are you just saying that?" she'd asked. "Or trying to make me feel better about my crazy wardrobe?"
"No, Val," he'd said, "I really mean it. You'll see why."
And now, of course, she did. He'd planned a sort of Arabian Nights dinner in the conservatory, which felt almost like eating in a luxurious pasha's garden. The rugs and the incense and the flowers and plants and the food itself had made the evening a feast for all the senses. They'd had a lamb dish and couscous and unidentifiable tiny fried fish, and delicious sweet cakes of all kinds, many saturated with honey and nuts.
Wyn had gone to fetch some brandy, because they'd decided to have a drink in here before going to the library. The room was hard to leave, its beauty so enticing. They would wait until the candles had burned a little lower, then move on to the library, where Val was certain further delights of a different nature awaited her.
Wyn stepped into the conservatory, the brandies in hand. He looked so extraordinary, she thought, dressed in a wildly colored silk smoking jacket. It was made of several different stripes of silk, individually sewn together, with velvet lapels and cuffs. He'd laughed about it and told her that his mother had bought it for him in Paris years ago. But she could tell that he loved it.
He handed her a brandy, then sat down at the table next to her. "Cheers," he said.
"Cheers," Val said, and they clinked glasses, then took sips of the fiery liquid.
"Now," Wyn said, "there's just one more little thing to make this evening special, and I think the time has come."
She looked into his eyes. "I think the evening has already been so special that I don't know if I could stand anything else."
"Somehow, I think you'll be able to appreciate this one more thing." He slipped his hand into the pocket of his jacket and pulled out a box.
Valerie's eyes grew wide. She couldn't help but be reminded of the night only a short time ago when Teddy had given her the ring, but she didn't want thoughts of that night to intrude, to ruin the exquisite pleasure—and love—that she had found with Wyn.
He took one of her hands and placed the box in it. "This is for you," he said. "I hope you like it."
She looked down at the box, then opened it without hesitation. She drew in her breath, stunned by the ring that sat winking up at her.
"Oh, Wyn," she said, "I've never seen anything so beautiful in my life! I mean it. It's the most beautiful ring I've ever seen."
She took it out of the box without being told to and slipped it on her finger. It fitted perfectly.
Wyn was grinning from ear to ear, watching her every expression, listening to her every word, enjoying the sight of her taking it out of the box and putting it on.
She leaned over and placed her hands on his shoulders, then kissed him on the lips. "Thank you, Wyn," she said. "I love you."
"I love you, too," he said tenderly.
They kissed a moment longer, then he drew back. "Let me see it on you," he said.
She held the ring up proudly, twisting her finger this way and that. "It matches my eyes perfectly."
"That's what I hoped," he said, "and believe me, it took a lot of calling around and sending pictures back and forth before I found what I hoped would be just the right diamond for you."
"Diamond?" she said. "You mean it's not an emerald?"
He shook his head. "No, it's a green diamond."
"I didn't even know there was such a thing," she said in wonder, looking at the stone anew.
"Well, Doc," he said, "stick with me and you might learn a thing or two." He looked into her eyes, and she held his gaze. He leaned down and kissed her lips, his arms encircling her in their warmth.
Valerie almost sighed aloud with happiness. The feel of his lips on hers and those powerful arms drawing her to him sent a quiver of excitement up her spine. I could stay like this forever, she thought as she returned his kisses. In his arms, against his warm body, feeling so completely loved by the man I love.
Wyn drew back. "Come with me," he said softly, gently leading her toward a velvet upholstered chaise nestled among the conservatory's profuse greenery. There, surrounded by the intoxicating perfume of exotic blooms, he eased her down onto the chaise, then removed his smoking jacket and lay beside her. He took her into his arms again, drawing her next to him, his hands stroking her lovingly, his lips seeking out hers once more.
Valerie reveled in the feel of his hard and determined maleness against her own soft and yielding flesh, and his distinct and tantalizing masculine odor aroused her more than the scent of a thousand flowers. As his lips lingered on hers, she began to stroke him slowly and tenderly, wanting their exquisite togetherness to last forever.
His lips moved to her neck, where he kissed her reverently before trailing down to the barely exposed cleavage between her breasts. As he inhaled her sweet femininity, Valerie felt her heart swell with pleasure and passion and love for this man whose every touch increased her desire for him.
Wyn lifted his head and looked into her eyes. "Let's undress," he said.
She nodded, a smile of anticipation hovering on her lips.
He stood and held out a hand to her. She took it and let him pull her to her feet. Within mere moments he had taken off her clothes and laid them across a chair, then she removed his and placed them atop her own. They stood before one another, their eyes taking delight in one another's magnificent nakedness.
Wyn began brushing his fingertips across her shoulders, down her arms, then in circles around her creamy breasts. Valerie gasped and drew nearer to him, almost as if she needed to support herself against him, but in reality unable to bear their separation any longer. She stroked his powerful shoulders and chest, then brought her hands down onto his buttocks, savoring their hard roundness. She felt Wyn's hot breath on her neck and his maleness assert itself against her.
He took her hand and eased her back down onto the chaise, positioning himself over her, poised as if to enter her. But he waited, his eyes lingering on hers before his tongue swept over her breasts and flicked at her nipples, arousing each one in turn. Valerie reached for his throbbing manhood, her fingertips brushing lightly down it and then encircling it with her hand. Wyn gasped, then lowered himself atop her body, pressing his hungry lips to hers once again, urgent now despite his wish to hold off.
Valerie wrapped her arms around him as he entered her, slowly, tenderly, relishing her enveloping warmth and the sweetness of her juices. Her desire for him almost overwhelmed her as she felt his manhood inside her, filling her up. She began to move against him, her body craving glorious release. But Wyn continued to move gently, restraining himself, drawing out their mutual pleasure for as long as possible.
Valerie tried to check her own urgency, concentrating on the ecstasy of each moment, trying not to rush the inevitable. But with his deep, slow thrusts, her body suddenly began to convulse with climax after climax, engulfing her in a pleasure and happiness such as she'd never known, and, crying out, she clasped him to her with all her might.
Wyn's passion for her was instantly heightened by her powerful contractions, and he drew back, hesitated a moment, then in a final mighty plunge found release. His entire body spasmed atop her as he let out a joyful groan.
He collapsed onto her, panting as she did, but peppering her face with kisses, his hands all over her at once. "I. . . love . . . you, Val," he said breathlessly. "I love you ... so much."
"And . . . and I love you," she r
eplied, holding him tightly.
They lay silent for a while, letting their breathing return to normal before Wyn finally eased off of her and lay at her side, an arm draped around her shoulders.
"Did I tell you that I love you?" he asked, squeezing her shoulders.
"Yes," she said. "But you can say it as often as you like . . . if I can."
"You're permitted," he said, nibbling on her ear. "And encouraged."
"I love you, Wyn."
"Ah, Doc," he whispered, kissing her gently, "I can't believe how lucky I am."
He hugged her, then drew back and looked into her eyes. "Think we ought to repair to the library, as they say?"
"I think we'd better do it quickly or we'll never get there."
"You're right," he said and laughed.
They rose to their feet, then Wyn reached for the long candle snuffer and slowly began extinguishing all the candles before they dressed and left the magnificence of the conservatory.
Valerie looked around the room, wanting to remember its every detail before it was completely darkened. This has been the most special night of my life, she thought. And it happened here, in this wonderful, magical room, a moment in time I'll never forget.
"The Reinhardts didn't notice anything," Santo said. "Their lights are out, so they're in bed. They always go to bed really early."
"I remember," Arielle said. "The screwballs are almost never up after the sun goes down."
They sat on the couch in his cottage, drinks on the coffee table in front of them.
"So nobody will know we've come in?" Arielle asked.
Santo nodded. "It's highly unlikely that Wyn and the vet would've noticed, and even so, it would just be me, driving down to my cottage."
"What's this business about the video cameras you were telling me about?" Arielle asked.
"It's very simple," Santo said. "The cameras saw me leave earlier to pick you up. They saw me come back in alone because you were hidden. They're going to see me leave alone again because you'll be hiding, after Wyn's dead. Then they'll see me come back in alone later. I can make it look like I was gone during the time of the murder by replacing the videotape that shows me coming back the first time and leaving the second time. I'd have to fiddle with the timers, make the tape look continuous, because the time is printed on them. I could wipe out everything but my trip to pick you up and make out like I'd spent the night away. I've got a girl lined up who'll let me spend the night, and she could be a witness that I was there all night."
He paused and took a sip of his drink. "There are several options, depending on how I want to play it."
"It sounds complicated to me," Arielle said. "You'd have to be here to fix the timers and change the videotapes."
He nodded. "Yeah," he agreed. "That's why I'm leaning toward ripping the damn cams out when we leave. We'll just take them with us and get rid of them. Then tomorrow I cruise in after being out on a hot date all night. Shocked as shit by what's happened while I was gone."
"I like it," Arielle said. "It's not as complicated." She took a long drag on a cigarillo and blew a streamer of smoke toward the ceiling. Then she turned and looked at Santo. "And how are you going to do it?"
"I'll show you," he said. He got to his feet and went back into the bedroom, then reappeared with a dirty- looking white towel in his hand. He sat down next to her and pulled the towel back to reveal a gun, dark and oily and menacing.
"This is a Smith & Wesson Mark 22," he said, "With a silencer. It's called a Hush Puppy."
"A Hush Puppy," Arielle said mirthfully. She reached for it, but Santo grabbed her hand.
"It's loaded," he said, "and we don't want any mistakes."
"Don't you trust me?" she asked.
"Yes," he said, "but accidents happen."
Arielle looked miffed and took a swallow of her drink, then set the glass down. "When's this going to happen?" she asked.
"Every time she's out here," he said, "they end up in the library. Wyn virtually lives in that room, and it has several sets of French doors. So I'll wait until a little later, when I think they've had time to finish dinner and get to the library. Then I'll mosey up there and wait outside for the right moment. Too bad he told his doctors about stopping the injections. That would have been much easier. This way, there are two of them to worry about."
"I want to watch," Arielle said.
"We discussed that at the motel," he said. "You're here in case I get hurt. You can get us out of here. I've got to be able to get the videocams, but you'd have to drive."
"Santo," she cried, "what if you get hit and knocked out or something? What then? I won't be able to move you, and you won't be able to get the cameras."
"We've been through all that, Arielle," he said. "It isn't going to happen. They'll be like sitting ducks in there, and I'll be outside. I'm an expert shot. Plus, the timing's perfect. It will look like whoever poisoned the horses did them in. It's a win-win situation."
She still looked worried.
"If anything happened to me, which is extremely doubtful," he went on, "you get in the Range Rover and drive like hell out of here. Cover your head with a towel or something going through the gates, then get Lolo to help you ditch the car."
She smashed the cigarillo out in an ashtray. "I would still like to watch," she said. "Watch Wyn and his new girlfriend go down."
"You've got to be here," he said emphatically. "Ready to leave. It's really important." He put a massive arm around her shoulders and pulled her to him. "Come on, Arielle," he said, "you're getting what you always wanted. All of Wyn's money. And me."
She kissed him hard on the lips. "You're right, Santo," she said. "It'll work out perfectly, and I'll get everything I want."
Wyn and Valerie walked to the library arm in arm and were greeted, as usual, by the Irish wolfhounds, who leapt up from their various positions and bounded over for licks and pets.
Valerie began her routine of petting and stroking and cooing to the dogs, trying to divide her attention among them equally, only making certain tonight that their large tongues laved her new diamond in the process.
"See that?" she said, looking up at Wyn. "They know this is a new ring, and they have to put their special good luck licks on it."
He looked at her with an affectionate grin. "You think of everything, don't you?"
"I try to," she said.
"I'm going to put on some music," Wyn said. "Any requests?"
"No," she said, "I'll let you choose."
The dogs settled down, and Valerie wandered about the room, looking at the books, paintings, and bronzes, picking up bibelots, examining them, then putting them back down again. She noticed several leather boxes on a bookshelf, their tops propped open to display the fantastically embellished guns nestled in specially fitted satin-covered niches. She took one out and looked at it closely. It was decorated with elaborately carved gold, silver, and bronze. She'd never seen anything like it, except in pictures in some of her father's old auction catalogs.
"Watch it," Wyn said from across the room, where he was rifling through CDs that were stacked next to the CD player. "Some of those are loaded," he said.
"They're really beautiful."
"They were my father's," he said. "Some of them are Purdy's, Holland and Holland, different makers. You wouldn't believe what they go for nowadays."
"Have you ever used them?" she asked, placing the gun back in its niche.
"Sure," he said. "Growing up, Dad would take me out to shoot. It was target practice, though. He didn't get into hunting at all, and neither did I."
"I bet you were a good marksman," she said.
"Not as good as Dad was," he said, "but pretty fair." He put a CD in the player and pressed the play button.
Suddenly the room was flooded with melodious instrumental chords. "Whoa!" he said. "That's a little loud." He adjusted the sound, then picked up his brandy snifter and went over to a wall switch, where he turned off the big chandeliers, leaving only
the painting lights, a desk lamp, and a couple of table lamps burning. He sat down on one of the big Chesterfield couches, watching her.
"What is it?" she asked. "The music, I mean." She picked up another of the elaborately carved guns and looked at it closely.
"Spanish Renaissance music," he replied. "From the fifteen hundreds. I like to listen to it in this room sometimes."
"It's very . . . haunting," she said. "Beautiful." She replaced the gun in its case, then went to the couch and sat down beside him. She held her hand up in front of them, looking at it with a smile of satisfaction on her face. "Like this," she said. "Beautiful." She leaned over and kissed him.
Wyn set his brandy snifter down and embraced her, and they began to kiss in earnest, their lips and tongues exploring, their hands traveling the terrain of one another's bodies. In moments that seemed somehow outside of time or place, they became lost in each other, suspended within a paradise that was of their own making and for them alone. They reached a point of breathlessness, as if from a fever brought on by their desire.
Valerie drew back reluctantly and looked into his eyes. "I-I'll be right back," she said, almost in a whisper. "I want to freshen up."
"Hurry," he said. "I'll be waiting."
She rose and leaned down, kissing the top of his head. Then she padded across the needlepoint rug and through a passageway between bookshelves, on her way to the nearest bathroom, anxious to return to his waiting arms.
The lone figure, dressed in black, had watched Valerie and Wyn through the conservatory's big glass windows, cursing the Bohemian glass inserts that were difficult to see through. Watched, fascinated, as Wyn gave her a ring, and she slipped it on. Watched as they went at it like horny teenagers. Then moved with them as they inevitably migrated to the big library, watching through binoculars from beyond the terrace as she wandered about the room and he messed with the CDs. Watched as she fiddled with antique guns. Watched in disgust as they made out on the couch.
Then watched as Valerie got to her feet and left the library.
Now! It's time!