Notorious

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Notorious Page 13

by Iris Johansen


  He cupped her cheeks in his palms and kissed her on the mouth. “It was too long a wait. We’ll have to make sure that doesn’t happen again.”

  She looked at him dazedly. “I … should get dressed.”

  He shook his head. “Why? The door’s locked and no one’s going to come in. I like to look at you.” He stepped closer again and took her in his arms, cuddling her, cosseting her.

  She liked to look at him too. She wanted to reach out and run her palm over the flat muscularity of his stomach, the brawny tree trunk thighs. “What are we going to do now?”

  He reluctantly released her and stepped back. “Eat dinner?” His eyes twinkled. “It will give us a taste of what life’s like in a nudist colony.”

  She stood up and shook her head. “I believe in a touch of mystery.” She picked up her gown and slipped it over her head. “I don’t want you to get tired of me too soon.”

  His smile vanished. “I don’t think you have to worry about that.” He turned away and walked over to the table where he had set the picnic basket. “And I don’t want to talk about that three-month bull right now.”

  Neither did she, Mallory thought with a wrenching pang. Their time together would come to an end soon enough without dwelling on it. She padded across the room toward him, her bare feet cool on the tile floor. “Aren’t you going to dress?”

  “No.” His tone was clipped. “There’s no mystique about me. What you see is what you get.” He opened the basket. “And believe me, you’ll be getting plenty of me from now on. I’m not about to lurk in the background any longer.”

  “I never asked you to stay in the background.”

  He took out a tray of sandwiches and a bottle of wine from the basket and set them on the table. “Eat.”

  She stood looking at him uncertainly.

  He looked up at her and a wry smile curved his lips. “It’s okay. Just a few of those sharp edges showing again. I feel a little raw.”

  “Why?”

  He shook his head as he began rummaging in the basket again. “Never mind. I’ll get over it.”

  Get over what? she wondered. She opened her lips to pursue the question and then closed them without asking. He was with her again, and she wanted nothing to disturb the harmony of their togetherness.

  She forced a smile and stepped closer to him. “Let me help. Are there any wineglasses in that basket?”

  EIGHT

  THE PHONE SHRILLED in the darkness.

  Mallory murmured and burrowed closer to Sabin on the sofa bed.

  The phone rang again.

  Drat it, she didn’t want to move, she thought drowsily. Her five o’clock wake-up call would come soon enough.

  The phone rang again.

  “I’ll get it.” Sabin rolled away from her, got out of bed, and turned on the light. “It’s probably a wrong number anyway.”

  She watched him cross to the phone on the table beneath the window. Lord, he had a fantastic tush. “Then why answer it?”

  “People who ring in the middle of the night are usually under the influence or have an emergency. Either way, they don’t give up easily.” He picked up the receiver. “Hello.” He waited and then said it again. “Hello. Who is this?”

  He replaced the receiver and came back to bed. “I told you it was a wrong number. They hung up.”

  Mallory tensed with familiar dread before she forced herself to relax. Not here. This was Marasef, not New York.

  It must have been a wrong number just as Sabin had said.

  Sabin flicked off the light, lay down beside Mallory, and pulled her close. He nuzzled her temple. “It seems a shame to go back to sleep when we have only a few hours until dawn.”

  She chuckled. “You’re already half-asleep.”

  “Are you impugning my stamina?”

  “After last night? I wouldn’t dare.”

  He kissed her shoulder. “Then why don’t we—” He broke off and shook his head. “Sorry, I didn’t think. You have to work this morning and need your rest. Go back to sleep.”

  “If you’d rather—”

  “Oh, I’d definitely ‘rather,’” he said dryly. “But I’m not going to do it. I’ve got to learn not to be such a selfish bastard. Believe me, it’s not easy for me after all these years of thinking only of myself. Now hush and go back to sleep.”

  They lay snuggled together, warmly, beautifully content. A short time later she could tell by Sabin’s even breathing that he’d drifted off to sleep again.

  Not here, Mallory thought, gazing at the shadowy shape of the telephone across the room. She was safe here in Sedikhan; safe with Sabin. The person on the other end of the line had probably not hung up immediately because he had been startled that Sabin had answered in English. She would forget all about the blasted call and go back to sleep.

  But it was over an hour later before she finally fell into an uneasy doze.

  For the next two days, Sabin visited the set constantly. Handel was surprisingly lenient about his presence, and a few times Mallory had actually seen him stroll over to the corner where Sabin was sitting and chat for a few moments.

  “Which one of you is softening?” she asked Sabin as she joined him after the second day’s shoot. “I was sure Handel would have you thrown off the set.”

  Sabin shrugged. “Creative temperament is all very well, but all directors know it’s damn difficult to earn a living directing when the cash ceases to flow into a production. Handel’s not stupid enough to cut off his nose to spite his face on future projects.” He stood up and took her arm. “Finished for the day?”

  “Finished, period. That was my last scene in the picture.”

  “Good. Now can we concentrate on—”

  “Mr. Wyatt?” A young gofer boy was at Sabin’s elbow. “Phone call for you on line two.” He handed him the phone and pulled up the aerial before turning and hurrying back toward the set.

  “I’ll get out of this costume and meet you back here in forty minutes,” Mallory said as Sabin pushed the button for line two and spoke into the receiver.

  He nodded absently as he listened to the person on the other end of the line.

  Mallory turned and began to weave her way around the cameras, careful not to trip over the thick cords snaking across the floor of the hangar.

  Sabin caught up with her before she reached the door. “Let’s go.”

  She looked at him, startled. “Now? But I told you—” She broke off as she saw his face. He was pale beneath his tan, and his lips were drawn in a grim line. “What’s wrong?”

  “Plenty. There’s no time for you to change.” He grabbed her arm and strode toward the door. “That was my office. Carey’s been taken to the emergency room at Sedikhan General Hospital.”

  “Carey?” Mallory hurried to keep pace with him. “An accident?”

  Sabin nodded curtly. “He was crossing the street in front of the Wyatt office building and was run down by a car. The bastard didn’t even bother to stop.”

  “No,” Mallory whispered, her eyes wide with horror. “Is he badly hurt?”

  “I don’t know.” Sabin flung open the door and propelled her toward the Mercedes parked next to the hangar. “He was unconscious when the ambulance took him to the hospital.” He opened the car door. “We’ll just have to see.”

  Sabin’s face was shadowed with pain, Mallory noticed with a rush of sympathy. She cared for Carey, too, but Carey was Sabin’s best friend, the only person he allowed close to him. “I’m sure he’ll be all right,” she said gently.

  “Because I want him to be all right?” Sabin asked harshly. “There aren’t any guarantees in this world and very few happy endings.” He slammed the car door and strode around to the driver’s seat.

  Mallory flinched, her hands clenching into fists on her lap. There was no reason for Sabin’s words to hurt her. He hadn’t been talking about them. She had known all along Sabin had little faith in the longevity of any relationship. She mustn’t think about anythin
g right now but Carey’s well-being and trying to comfort Sabin’s pain.

  When the doctor permitted them into the tiny sterile cubicle adjoining the emergency room, Carey was sitting upright on the examining table, a half-cast on his left arm and a white bandage encircling his head.

  He grinned at Sabin and waved the cast at Mallory. “How do you like my turban? Do you think you can persuade Handel to cast me as a swami in his next picture?”

  Mallory breathed a sigh of relief. Carey couldn’t be too badly hurt if he could still joke. “I doubt it, you don’t look mysterious enough. Whoever heard of a swami with freckles?”

  “Are you all right?” Sabin asked jerkily.

  Carey grimaced. “I could be better. My arm’s broken in two places, and I’ll never play the violin again.”

  “If you expect me to fall for that old chestnut, you’ve got—” Sabin broke off and asked, “How’s the head?”

  “They think maybe I have a mild concussion.” Carey frowned. “They want to keep me here overnight. Can’t you pull some strings and get me out of here?”

  “No, I can’t.” Sabin’s tone was adamant. “If they want you here, you stay.”

  “You’ll be sorry. Your financial empire could fall apart overnight without my brilliant insight. You don’t know how valuable I am to you.”

  “I know.” Sabin’s voice was gruff. “Believe me, I know.”

  Carey’s smile faded as he met Sabin’s gaze. “I’m okay, Sabin, right as rain.”

  “Of course you are.” Sabin looked away from him. “I knew nothing could crunch that hard head of yours. But I should dock your wages for being stupid enough to step in front of that car.”

  “I didn’t step in front of him,” Carey protested. “I didn’t even see him. I swear, Sabin, I looked both ways and there was no one coming. The bastard came roaring out of nowhere. I heard a noise behind me and caught a blur of something blue…” He shrugged. “Then, cuckooland.”

  “You can’t identify the car?”

  Carey shook his head. “I didn’t see anything.”

  “Well, someone must have seen what happened,” Sabin said. “I’ll talk to the police and see what I can find out.” He paused before adding grimly, “I’m going to nail him.”

  “And I’ll hand you the hammer.” Carey turned to Mallory. “Wanna write on my cast? It’s virgin territory.”

  Mallory smiled. “I’ll pass.”

  “Sure? By tomorrow you’ll have to take a number. I’m planning on searching out every gorgeous nurse in the place and have them inscribe their—”

  “You’ll stay in bed and rest,” Sabin said. “Let them come to you.”

  “That’s a good idea.” Carey thought about it and then shook his head. “Nah, too risky. They’ve never lined up for my favors before.”

  “But now you’re an object of pity,” Mallory reminded him. “Nothing touches a woman’s heart like the sight of a few bandages.”

  “Really?” Carey lay back down on the emergency table. “I do believe I’m beginning to feel weaker. Yes, much weaker. You both can run along, but you’d better send in a nurse to take my vital signs on your way out. The brunette with the long eyelashes, I think.”

  “Do you need anything,” Sabin asked. “Besides the brunette?”

  “Not if you manage to pry me out of here by tomorrow.” Carey closed his eyes. “Lord, I hate hospitals.”

  “You’ll stay as long as the doctor says you need to.”

  “I knew you’d say that.” Carey didn’t open his eyes. “Well, I might as well take the opportunity to do some thinking.”

  “For instance?”

  “Just thinking,” he said vaguely. “Something’s been bothering me. It doesn’t fit …”

  “Rest, don’t think.”

  “See you tomorrow, Sabin.”

  “Tomorrow.” Sabin hesitated and then turned on his heel and left the cubicle.

  Mallory followed and fell into step with him as he strode down the corridor toward the nurse’s station. “He seems to be doing well.”

  “No thanks to the scum that hit him,” Sabin said. “He could have lay there in the street and bled to death or been run over by another car for all that lowlife cared.”

  “What do we do now?”

  “I’m going to talk to the doctor and make sure they’re not keeping anything from Carey.” Sabin glanced down at Mallory. “And then I’m going to put you in a taxi and send you back to the location. I want to go to the police station and see if they have any more information about the car that hit him.”

  “I’ll go with you.”

  “No,” Sabin said. “That’s not necessary. I’ll see you back at the location.” He caught sight of the doctor who had shown them in to see Carey and strode quickly toward the desk.

  Mallory experienced a swift jab of pain. He was closing her out. Well, why should she have expected anything else? His attitude drove home the realization that this was the real world and Sabin had never invited her to be part of it. The time he spent with her was cloaked in sensual dreams and, like a dream, would eventually fade away.

  If she became his mistress, the dream would continue, and he would come to her at Kandrahan or one of his other residences around the world. They would make love, and he would leave her until the next time.

  Until he decided there would be no next time.

  She stood still watching him talk to the doctor, his expression intent, his gray-blue eyes narrowed with the intensity that was so much a part of him. She had seen that expression on his face countless times since she had come to Sedikhan. She had grown to know every frown, every smile, every gesture so well. What would it be like not to see Sabin ever again?

  She closed her eyes tightly for an instant as the raw pain twisted inside her. Every day she spent with him he was becoming more endearingly her own. This wasn’t what she felt for Ben; that had vanished almost before it began. This love was strengthening, growing, until eventually it would dominate her entire world. Dear Lord, if she felt this devastated at the prospect of leaving him now, how would she be able to bear it after they had been together another two months?

  Her eyes flicked open, and she drew a deep breath. The answer was simple. She wouldn’t be able to bear it. The memories wouldn’t be a solace, they would be a torment. Those painful months she had known with Ben would pale in comparison.

  “Ready?” Sabin was back beside her.

  No, she wasn’t ready. She would never be ready for what she knew now she must do. She forced a smile. “Yes, of course, I’m ready.”

  She let him escort her out of the hospital and put her into a taxi to take her back to the location.

  Sabin didn’t arrive back at her trailer until nearly eight that evening.

  “Did you find out anything?” Mallory asked, her gaze searching his face.

  “Too much,” Sabin said wearily as he closed the door. “And not enough.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “There were two witnesses, and neither of them could agree on the make of the car. Only that it was a dark color and small. The police are bringing them in tomorrow morning to show them pictures of different models to try and jog their memories.” He paused. “But both witnesses said they believed Carey was run down deliberately. The car was parked at the curb down the street from the building and pulled away and accelerated only after Carey stepped into the street.”

  Mallory gazed at him in horrified bewilderment. “But who would want to hurt Carey?”

  “How the hell do I know? The police lieutenant suggested it was probably someone who’s trying to get to me and hasn’t the nerve to attack me personally.” His jaw clenched. “But I’m damn well going to find out who it was. There’s no way I’m going to let anyone get away with this kind of bull.”

  Mallory crossed her arms over her breasts to suppress a shiver. Carey and she had both been touched by the ugliness of violence through no fault of their own. “What if they try to hurt Carey ag
ain?”

  “I’ve told security to keep an eye on him until the police catch the nut who ran him down.” Sabin met her gaze across the room. “And I’ve told them to put a watch over you too.”

  “Me?” She frowned in puzzlement. “I don’t understand. It’s you who should be guarded.”

  Sabin shook his head. “If Carey became a target because he’s my friend, I don’t want to risk anyone finding out I could be hurt if they attacked you.”

  She looked at him sadly. “And could you be hurt, Sabin?”

  “What the devil do you mean? You know I—”

  “Nothing,” she said quickly. “I didn’t mean anything.” She moved toward the door of the trailer. “Let’s go for a walk. I’m feeling claustrophobic in here.”

  “Have you eaten? Do you want to go out to dinner?”

  “I had a sandwich earlier.” She opened the door and stood looking out. The last glowing rays of the setting sun had painted lavender and pink shadows on the clouds on the horizon, but even as she watched, the brilliance faded into the deep purple of night. She took a deep breath of the cool evening air. “That’s better. Let’s walk over to the runway.”

  He frowned as he followed her from the trailer and closed the door. “Are you all right?”

  She nodded and carefully avoided his gaze. “I’m only worried about Carey.”

  “But nothing else?”

  “No, of course not.” She threaded her fingers through his and led him away from the trailer in the direction of the tarmac a few hundred yards distant. The blue lights marched down either side of the short runway and the control tower was lit with a red warning signal, but there was no sound or sign of the activity that took place during the day. “Just walk with me. This is nice, isn’t it?”

  “Yes.” She could feel his gaze on her in the darkness.

  “I’ve enjoyed working on this picture.” She pointed to the seven army green bombers lined up on the runway. “Just look at them. You’d never guess those planes are over forty years old. They could have landed here only an hour ago. I think I would have liked to have lived in the forties. Even though they were at war, it was a simpler life. Values were clearer then. Don’t you ever want to run away from it all?”

 

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