Notorious

by Iris Johansen

  “Mallory!”

  Sabin stepped forward as James rushed him, and the edge of his hand knifed down in a karate chop to James’s neck that sent him stumbling over the cliff’s edge.

  James screamed frantically, as he clutched at the air as if it would keep him from falling.

  Mallory stared, shocked, unbelieving as he disappeared from view.

  She was vaguely conscious of the shouts, of the uniformed men running to the edge of the cliff. “He’s gone.”

  She knew it was an illusion, but she could still hear James screaming her name as he ran after her.

  “Come on, Mallory.” Sabin gently took her arm. “There’s no use in standing here. Let’s go to the police car.”

  “He’s dead, isn’t he?” she asked dully.

  “Probably. It was quite a drop.”

  “He said it was my fault. He said it was all my fault.”

  Sabin swore beneath his breath and propelled her toward the police car in the driveway.

  “He killed Ben.”

  “I know.”

  “He said I made him do it.”

  “Forget it. He was as nuts as they come. You’re practically shell-shocked or you’d realize he wasn’t playing with a full deck. We’ll talk about it as soon as I can get you to quit shaking.”

  She hadn’t known she was shaking. “We have to find out if he’s hurt Gerda. He said she didn’t understand. …”

  “We’ll have the police radio for a patrol car to go check out their house and make sure she’s safe.”

  “She’s my friend. How am I going to explain?”

  “Stop worrying about it.” Sabin’s voice was rough. “I’ll fix it somehow.” He opened the rear door of the police car and pushed her onto the backseat. He climbed into the car after her and took her into his arms. He held her close, pushing her cheek into the hollow of his shoulder. “Just stop crying, okay?”

  “Okay,” she whispered.

  Here in the safe refuge of Sabin’s arms she could almost believe he could fix everything.

  She closed her eyes and clung to him, trying desperately not to remember James’s mad, mournful howling of her name as he chased after her along the edge of the cliff.

  TEN

  “YOU LOOK MUCH better this morning.” Carey looked up from the newspaper to eye Mallory appraisingly as she came into the dining room. “A little fine drawn but at least you don’t look like a marble statue on a crypt any longer. I was worried when Sabin brought you back to the apartment last night.”

  Mallory sat down at the table and reached for the carafe of coffee at her elbow. “I don’t remember very much about last night. It was all a horrible blur.” She shuddered as she poured coffee into her cup. “Maybe it’s better not to dwell on it. The details were pretty ugly. James…”

  “Sabin said I wasn’t to let you get upset again,” Carey interrupted. “So I think we’ll skip any conversation about Delage. Do you think you could eat some breakfast?”

  She shook her head. “Just coffee. Where’s Sabin?”

  “He drove out to Long Island to see Delage’s wife.”

  “Gerda?” Her grasp tightened on the cup cradled in her hands. “He told me the police said James hadn’t hurt her.”

  “She’s fine,” Carey said quickly. “He just wanted to talk to her.”

  She set the cup down. Her lips twisted. “About me? What can he say? ‘I’m sorry Mrs. Delage, but your husband’s dead because he wanted to have an affair with your best friend’?”

  “No.” Carey reached out and covered her hand with his own. “He’ll say Delage was unbalanced and formed a fixation that was never at any time encouraged by you.”

  She shook her head. “It won’t help. She loved him, Carey. Of course, she’s going to blame me.”

  “Maybe not.” He gestured with the arm in the cast to the newspaper he had been reading when she walked into the room. “The rest of the world doesn’t.”

  “No more femme fatale?”

  “You’re a tragic, romantic heroine. The press is having a field day.” He smiled gently. “There hasn’t been such a hoopla about anyone since the tabloids tried to turn Jackie into a saint when Kennedy was assassinated.”

  She shivered. “I could have been the one who died last night if it hadn’t been for Sabin.” She turned her hand over and returned Carey’s clasp. “And you. Sabin told me you were responsible for finding out that James was a murderer.”

  “My inquiring mind. It’s the bane of my existence that things have to fit neatly for me. When Delage struck a sour chord, I had to find out why.” He gazed at her soberly. “You could have made things easier for us if you hadn’t decided to fly the coop. Sabin was nearly out of his mind when he contacted the security men he had assigned to you and found out you were on your way to the U.S. with Delage. We had no concrete proof yet and hadn’t a chance of having the police intercept you at the airport. The only thing Sabin could do was call Randolph and have them meet the plane and follow you to the beach house.”

  She shivered. “I’m glad you did.”

  “Our Lear Jet landed thirty minutes after you’d left the airport, and Sabin pulled strings to get the police to assign a black and white to chase after you while Randolph’s men radioed directions to us.”

  She shook her head, tears stinging her eyes. “It was like a nightmare. James was my friend, Carey. You know I’d never encourage him to be anything else.”

  “I know.” He gave her hand a final squeeze before releasing it. “He wasn’t sane, Mallory.”

  “Or perhaps it was me. Maybe I did encourage him in some way.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous.”

  “What about Ben? He wouldn’t have died if—” She set the coffee down, pushed back her chair, and stood up. “I think I’ll go and finish packing.”

  “Packing?” Carey asked, startled.

  “I can’t stay here forever.” Mallory moved toward the door. “Sabin was kind enough to take me in last night, but I mustn’t impose any—”

  “For Pete’s sake, you know Sabin doesn’t regard your presence here as an imposition.” Carey smiled lopsidedly. “In fact, I’ll be lucky he doesn’t break my other arm if I let you go before he gets back.”

  “He won’t be angry with you.” Mallory looked back at him, her eyes glistening. “He cares about you. You’re one of the constants in his life.”

  “And you’re not?”

  She shook her head. “You told me yourself. No long-term affairs for Sabin.”

  “I talk too much. Ask anyone.” Carey stood up. “Stay until he gets back and talk to him, Mallory.”

  “I can’t stay. Why do you think I ran away from him before? He told me once I wasn’t tough.” She smiled tremulously. “I argued with him at the time. I wouldn’t argue now. Not where he’s concerned.”

  “Where will you go?”

  “I can’t tell you.” She held up her hand as he started to protest. “You know you’d tell Sabin if I did.”

  He nodded slowly. “You’re right.”

  “So it’s better that I just fade into the sunset.” She turned to go. “Good-bye, Carey. I’ll miss you. Thanks for everything.”

  “Oh, no, you don’t.” Sabin grabbed the suitcase the taxi driver had just placed in the trunk and set it down on the street. “Not this time, Mallory. You’re not running away again. Not now. Not ever.”

  Mallory tensed, bracing herself and then turned to face him. “I’m leaving, Sabin. Please put the suitcase back in the trunk.”

  “Hell, no.” Sabin thrust a bill into the taxi driver’s hand. “Take the bags back inside and tell the concierge to send them up to the Wyatt apartment.” He didn’t wait for an answer. Instead, he took Mallory’s arm and propelled her toward the limousine double-parked down the street. “Don’t say a word,” he said between clenched teeth. “Not a syllable.” He opened the rear door and thrust her onto the cushioned seat and climbed in after her. “Just let me sit here and try to get over w
anting to strangle you.” He motioned for the chauffeur to start the car. “Central Park.” He turned to face her. “I couldn’t believe it when Carey told me you were just walking out.”

  “Carey told—” She broke off as she understood. “The car phone. I forgot he could call you.”

  Sabin’s lips set grimly. “No, you thought it safe to run away from me without so much as goodbye.”

  She looked straight ahead. “I knew you’d be difficult.”

  “You’re damn right I’ll be difficult. I’ll be more than difficult. I’ll be impossible. I was all the way out on Long Island trying to save your friendship with Gerda and you—”

  “I could have told you it was hopeless.” She looked at him. “Gerda wouldn’t listen to you, would she?”

  “She listened. I made her listen.” Sabin paused. “But she wasn’t ready to believe me. I’ll have to try again later.”

  “I didn’t think she would. She loved James. It’s easier for her to believe I’m to blame for all this than him.”

  “According to what Carey told me, it’s apparently easier for you too.” He took her shoulders and shook her. “Listen to me. You were not at fault. You did nothing to encourage Delage.”

  “How do you know?” Her tone was anguished. “How do I know?”

  “Because I’m telling you. I know you. You’re warm and loving, but only a madman like Delage would mistake friendship for anything deeper.” He smiled bitterly. “I had more cause than him, and I never did.”

  She looked over his shoulder at the traffic passing by beyond the tinted window. “You once said I was the kind of woman men formed obsessions about.”

  “You are.” He released her shoulders and cradled her cheeks in his hands. “Stop looking out that blasted window and listen to me.” His eyes were blazing with intensity as he stared down at her. “You’re so damn beautiful, you make me start to shake just looking at you. I told Carey once you were as close as a modern woman could get to Helen of Troy, and I meant it. You’re the kind of woman men fight wars over and write great novels about and …” He drew a deep breath. “But that’s not all you are. You’re a decent, intelligent human being, and you deserve the right to choose. You’re not to blame if Delage wanted you.” He paused. “And you’re not to blame, if I love you.”

  She froze, her gaze on his face. “What?”

  “You deserve the right to choose,” he repeated hoarsely. “But I have rights too. You weren’t fair to me. You didn’t give me a chance. You’re always running away from me.”

  “I had to run away.”

  “Why?” His big hand was oddly clumsy, smoothing her hair away from her face. “You liked the sex. I know you did. And you liked me. I wasn’t pushing. Lord, do you know how hard it was for me not to push you? Every moment I was with you I wanted to reach out and grab you and take you back to Kandrahan.”

  “For three months.”

  He shook his head. “Forever.”

  Joy began to sweep through her in a shimmering river. “You said nothing lasted forever.”

  “I was scared,” he said haltingly. “Almost from the beginning I knew I wasn’t going to be able to let you go in three months. But I thought if I tried to hold you that you’d panic. I was afraid you’d go away like all the others. I had to protect myself.”

  She held her breath. “Why?”

  “Because I knew you could destroy me if you went away.”

  The admission was said with such gruff simplicity, it brought the tears rushing to her eyes. She reached out and clutched at his shoulders. “Shut up. Nothing could destroy you, Sabin. You’re the Rock of Gibraltar.”

  He grimaced in self-disgust. “Just listen to me. One moment I’m telling you that you’re not responsible for any of us, and then I try to lay a guilt trip on you.” He smiled with an effort. “You’re right. I’d survive.”

  “You bet you would.”

  “But I wouldn’t be happy. My life would be like the summer following your blackberry winter. No matter how beautiful the season, it would be an anticlimax without you.” He drew a harsh breath. “So I have a bargain for you.”

  “Another one?”

  He nodded. “This one’s very important.” He hesitated. “Marry me.” He continued in a rush, “I’ve thought it all out. It could be very beneficial for you. Naturally, I’d guarantee to further your career. I’d cherish and protect you. I wouldn’t be the easiest man to live with, but you’d have plenty of money and you wouldn’t have to give me a child unless you decided you wanted—”

  “Stop.”

  “It’s not enough?”

  Her lashes veiled her eyes. “You’re overwhelming me. Now, let’s see. I get money, a career, protection. What do you get out of this arrangement?”

  “You. That’s all I want. That’s all I’ve ever wanted from the first moment I saw you.”

  She turned her head, her lips brushing his palm. “I can’t agree to those terms.”

  He stiffened. “What else can I give you?”

  “It’s not what you’re giving that I object to, but what you’re taking.” She lifted her gaze to meet his own. “It’s not enough. For a brilliant businessman, you’re not being very demanding. Now, would you like to hear my terms?”

  He became still. “I’m waiting.”

  “I want you to promise you’ll never leave me. If you ever decide you don’t love me any longer as a lover, you have to let me be your friend.” She reached up and touched the hard line of his jaw. “You have to let me give you at least two children. I’d rather have four, but I’ll settle for two.” She paused, and a luminous smile lit her face. “And you have to pretend you don’t mind when I tell you at least forty times a day how very much I love you.”

  His eyes widened. “You love—”

  She stopped the words with a quick, loving kiss. “Why do you think I ran away, you idiotic man? You wanted to see me act on impulse, to forget about logic and reason. Well, I did that when I ran away from you. I thought it was self-preservation, but I was really in a blind panic because I was afraid of being hurt again.”

  “I’d never hurt you,” he said hoarsely. “I’m not like Ben. You don’t have to be afraid.”

  “Yes, I do. Love is always a risk. The greater the love, the greater the risk.” She laughed shakily. “But it’s worth it.”

  His expression was suddenly wary. “You’re sure? You don’t have to lie to me. I’ll be satisfied with—”

  “The devil you will.” She chuckled. “You want it all. Do you think I don’t know you by now?”

  “And you still love me?” A brilliant, joyous smile transformed the rough hardness of his face, making it almost beautiful. “Well, I’ll be damned.”

  “Is it a deal?”

  He kissed her hard, hot, and sweet. “No.”

  She looked at him in surprise. “No?”

  “Stop the car,” he ordered the chauffeur. “Pull up beside one of those hansom cabs across from the park.” He grabbed her hand while he opened the door as the limousine stopped at the curb. “Come on.”

  “Where are we going?”

  He pulled her toward a vacant carriage waiting at the curb. “No more deals.”

  He lifted her into the carriage and climbed in after her. “When our grandchildren ask where we were when I proposed to you, I want you to be able to tell them I did it right. A man has to do these things with panache when he’s paying suit to Helen of Troy.” He motioned toward the driver, and the gray horse clopped past the Plaza toward Central Park. “So forget about bargains and deals. This is the real thing.”

  She had never seen Sabin’s expression so boyish or full of joy, Mallory thought lovingly, as she leaned back in the carriage and laced her fingers through his. The breeze gently touched her cheeks and tugged at her hair as the carriage entered the verdant haven of the park.

  She knew there was no wrong way for them to seal their vows if it meant they were going to go through life together, but if Sabin felt b
etter about this romantic gesture how could she argue? He was actually speaking of a future stretching into forever and forming the strong roots of home and family.

  She nestled contentedly closer to him. “You’re absolutely right,” she said solemnly. “By all means, we have to consider the grandchildren.”

  If you loved Notorious, read on for a

  sneak peek inside

  Tender

  Savage

  by Iris Johansen

  Coming from Dell in Summer 2010

  ONE

  “IT WILL BE dangerous, Miss Clavel,” Paco said gravely. “I won’t lie to you. You could be raped or tortured, even killed.”

  Lara Clavel tried to hide her shiver of fear from Paco Renalto’s keen gaze. In the short time she had been in the major’s tent, she had learned that there was a great deal more to Renalto than elfin features and an air of insouciance. He had a sharp, probing intelligence. She shouldn’t have been surprised. He couldn’t have risen to be Ricardo Lázaro’s second in command with only puckish charm to recommend him. She forced a smile. “I really wish you wouldn’t tell me about all these dire things that could happen. I’m scared enough already.”

  “You have to be warned. Ricardo wouldn’t permit you to go into such a dangerous situation without your knowing full well what it might cost you. I can’t either.”

  “Not even to save the leader of your great revolution?” Lara’s tone was deliberately flippant.

  “Not even then.” A sudden smile lit Paco Renalto’s face. “You cannot choose without knowing the facts, and that’s what this revolution is all about. Ricardo wouldn’t thank me for discarding those principles just to save his life.”

  “No? I find that hard to believe. Self-preservation is the first law of nature.”

  “Some things are worth dying for.” Paco paused. “And so are some people. I’d give my life for Ricardo Lázaro.”

  And so would a hundred thousand other revolutionaries on this blasted island in the Caribbean, Lara thought wearily. The man seemed capable of hypnotizing everyone who came in contact with him. Lázaro was not only a brilliant military strategist, but the most charismatic of leaders, and the war he had waged against the Communist junta on Saint Pierre had made headlines around the world for the last nine years. It wasn’t often a figure as dashing as Lázaro came on the scene, and the media had made the most of every opportunity to capitalize on the general’s magnetism. Five years ago Lázaro had smuggled his book Right to Choose out of Saint Pierre and it had become a worldwide bestseller acclaimed both for its philosophy and for its poetic style. A poet and a warrior. How was anyone supposed to fight against a combination like that? She just wished Brett hadn’t been one of those thousands to fall under his spell. She looked intently into Paco Renalto’s eyes. “Yet you caution me against risking my own life for the man.”