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by Iris Johansen


  Serena’s shoes were all far too narrow, but after searching through her brother’s closet, she managed to come up with some moccasins that fitted Elizabeth fairly well, once the toes were stuffed with tissue.

  “Are you sure Dane won’t mind?” Elizabeth asked. “Will you at least let me pay for them, Serena?”

  Serena made a face as she turned away from the closet. “Don’t be ridiculous. Dane never wore half these clothes anyway. They’re all far too primitive for his sophisticated tastes. And you know how seldom Dane honors me with his presence these days.”

  Elizabeth nodded slowly. Charming as Dane Spaulding undoubtedly was, no one could call him stable or a homebody. “Where is he now?”

  “Monte Carlo. Someone told him there was a song written about the man who broke the bank at Monte Carlo, and he’s vowed to add a few new verses to the chorus.” Serena pulled a suitcase out of the closet. “So much for the peaceful life. I’ll probably have to mortgage my home and fly to his rescue.”

  “You’d enjoy every minute of it. You’re as much of a wanderer as he is. I never under stood how the two of you could own this lovely cottage and spend so little time in it. Don’t you miss having a sense of permanence in your life?”

  “Home is just a place to come back to rest, and permanence is boring as hell.” Serena’s violet eyes twinkled. “We’re not all like you, Elizabeth. For some of us, what’s down the road is more important than the ivy-covered cottage beside it.” She slung the suitcase on the bed and unfastened it. “How long are you going to be gone? Will you need evening clothes?”

  “No, we’ll only be gone a few days.” Elizabeth smiled. “And jeans will be far more practical than sequins and beads. This is definitely not a jaunt to Monte Carlo.”

  “Well, sequins and beads can be very morale-raising on occasion. Take it from one who knows. Now go back downstairs and keep that luscious man company while I pack this bag. I don’t want you hemming and hawing over everything I throw in it.” Serena held up her hand as Elizabeth started to protest. “You are not imposing. I finished the last of my sketches for the spring show, bundled them up, and sent them off to New York last weekend. I’m bored as the devil, and your little intrigue has brightened my day considerably.” She threw open the lid of the suitcase. “I don’t suppose you’d like to tell me what this is all about? Dogs with gunshot wounds, grim-looking types knocking on my door in the middle of the night, and now you two appearing mysteriously in my kitchen at the break of dawn. You have to admit it’s enough to pique a woman’s curiosity.”

  Grim-looking types. “Someone was here last night?”

  Serena nodded. “The same man who was here after you dropped Sam off last month. Pale blue eyes.” She puffed out her cheeks. “And jowls.”

  “Bardot. What did you tell him?”

  “The same thing I told him the last time. That I didn’t give a damn who he was, and if he took a step inside my house I’d shoot his kneecaps off.”

  Elizabeth laughed. “I can see how that would discourage him. What would you have done if he’d called your bluff?”

  Serena’s eyes widened in surprise. “What bluff? I was already planning what to wear in court. Something white and innocent, I thought. Brunettes usually can pull off the Madonna look.” She lifted a dark, beautifully arched eyebrow. “You’re not going to confide in me?”

  “I can’t. It’s not that I don’t want to tell you.” Elizabeth’s expression was distressed. “There are other people involved.”

  “Don’t get upset. I just thought I’d ask. I know you wouldn’t do anything wrong, and what are friends for if not to shoot the knee caps off nasty types like Bardot? Now shoo, I’ll be down in a few minutes.” She turned to the mahogany chest of drawers beside the closet. “Pack yourselves a lunch for the road. There are cold cuts and Brie cheese in the refrigerator.”

  “Serena, you know I’ll never be able to thank you.”

  “Then don’t try.” Serena’s smile lit her beautiful face with warmth. “It will be less awkward for both of us. Do I get to keep Sam for a few more days? I’ve gotten accustomed to having the rascal around the house. He’s company when Dane’s away.”

  Elizabeth nodded. “We’ll pick him up as soon as we come home. There has to be some quick way of straightening out this mess.”

  “I hope so. I’m looking forward to seeing young Master Andrew in the flesh.”

  “He’s perfect,” Elizabeth said softly. “And absolutely wonderful.”

  “I’m sure he is.” Serena smiled gently. “You couldn’t have a baby that wasn’t wonderful. Just remember you said I could be his god mother. I’m holding you to that promise, no matter what. I’ve done all kinds of research on the duties and privileges involved in being a godmother.”

  “Research? You and Jon will obviously get along splendidly. He’s a great one for research too. If you’re lucky, he might even decide to make you a stained-glass window for your living room.”

  “Stained glass?” Serena asked, puzzled.

  “Never mind.” Elizabeth turned to the door. “And you’ll definitely be Andrew’s godmother. I wouldn’t think of asking anyone else.”

  Jon was sitting at the kitchen table nursing the cup of coffee Serena had given him before she had taken Elizabeth upstairs. He also had benefited from Dane’s wardrobe and had changed into boots, a pair of jeans, and a pale blue oxford-cloth shirt that had made his skin appear even more golden in contrast. He glanced up when Elizabeth walked into the room. “Okay?”

  She nodded. “Serena is literally giving us the shirt off her back, and she’d probably sign the car over to us if we let her.”

  “I thought she would.” He took a sip of coffee. “You’re right, she’s exceptionally attractive. She reminds me of Elizabeth Taylor in her younger days. She looks more like a model than a dress designer. Is she successful?”

  “Fantastically so. If Serena were willing to settle down she could have her own fashion house, but she says it’s too much responsibility and prefers to work for someone else. She was the designer who created the harem fashion fad last season.” She suddenly frowned. “Bardot was here last night. Are you sure he won’t cause Serena any trouble? What if he’s watching the cottage when we drive off?”

  “We’re not going to drive off. We’ll hike a few miles through the woods and then cut over to the road. Serena can meet us with the car and then walk back to the cottage.”

  “What if Bardot finds out she helped us?”

  “He’ll be so busy trying to locate us, he won’t have time to harass her. Don’t worry, I’ll call and have a man sent to watch out for her as soon as we leave for Rochester.”

  Her eyes widened. “There are other Garvanians in the area? I don’t know why, but I just assumed you and Gunner were the only ones.”

  He shook his head. “Andrew is very important to us. The moment we realized you were pregnant, we formed a network to protect him.”

  “He’s very important to me too.” They’d formed a network to protect her baby An drew? Protect him from what dangers? The entire concept was incredible and frightening. “Surely we can settle this without making a major production out of it. Not everyone in the government is like Bardot,”

  “I realize that.” He pushed back his chair and stood up. “Suppose we talk about it later. It’s time we were on our way.”

  “You’re being very evasive.”

  “Yes, I am. I want you to think about the problem before we discuss it.”

  She smiled shakily. “I don’t like the sound of that. Are you keeping me in the dark again?”

  He shook his head. “I won’t deny I have a plan, but I won’t do anything without your consent. It’s too important a decision to be forced.”

  “And what would your wonderful council say to your generous gesture?”

  “I don’t give a damn what they say. This is between you and me.” He paused. “And An drew. We have to consider what’s best for An drew, Beth.”

/>   “Do you think I don’t know that?” She turned away with a jerky movement. “You’re right, we’ll talk about it later. Serena said we should help ourselves to a picnic lunch. I’d better get busy packing it, hadn’t I?”

  “Beth.” Jon’s voice was soft with tenderness.

  “No, I don’t want to talk about it.” Her hands were shaking as she opened the refrigerator door. “Not now.”

  His hands clenched slowly at his sides in helpless frustration as he watched her pull out the plastic cold cuts container. They had be come too close the night before for him not to be able to read signs of sorrow and rejection in her expression. She was already considering the problem, and perhaps she had grasped tendrils of his solution on a subconscious level. It was difficult to keep up a barrier during a joining. He wanted to take her in his arms and help her, soothe away all the pain she would ever know, but he knew she wouldn’t accept comfort now. He could only stand and wait until she was ready to come to him. He stepped forward and took the container. “Here, let me help you.” Let me shoulder all your burdens, protect you from harm, smooth every rock-strewn path. “Did Serena tell you where she keeps the bread?”

  “SORRY ABOUT THE MOTEL. I KNOW IT’S NOT the Ritz, but I thought it was better for us to stay away from any of the large, well-known hotels in downtown Rochester.” Jon leaned against the door that connected their adjoining rooms. “We have to keep a low profile until Gunner contacts us tomorrow morning.”

  “The motel’s fine.” Elizabeth went to the window and drew the beige print drapes, blocking out the early evening darkness. “Hotels are all pretty much the same, and at least this place is spotlessly clean. Do you suppose we can order from room service?”

  “I doubt it. Why don’t you shower and rest for a while, and I’ll see what I can arrange as far as carry-out food goes? I saw a pizza parlor and a Mexican restaurant a few blocks from here. Do you have any preference?”

  “Mexican.”

  He nodded as he turned away. “Mexican it is. Fasten the chain lock behind me. I’ll knock when I come back.”

  “Are all these precautions necessary? I don’t think we were followed. I didn’t see any one on the road.”

  “I didn’t either.” A thoughtful frown knotted his brow. “If they were good at their job, we wouldn’t have seen them. It doesn’t hurt to be careful.”

  She nibbled nervously on her lower lip. “Do you really think Gunner got away? I was so relieved when Bardot first told me about his men disappearing, I just jumped to that conclusion. What if something happened to their mobile phone, and they didn’t really disappear? What if they were following Gunner and overtook him later?”

  He glanced over his shoulder with an amused smile. “You’re full of what-ifs tonight. I said I wanted you to think, not worry. Will it make you feel better if I swear there was no way those men could stop Gunner?”

  “Not unless you tell me how you can be so sure.”

  “There are times when I could do without your Yankee show-me mentality.” He held up his hands in mock surrender. “I’ll tell you why I’m so sure later. During dinner. Okay?”

  “Okay.”

  She watched the door close behind him and then obediently crossed the room to fasten the chain lock. She switched on the light, picked up the suitcase Serena had packed for her, and put it on the bed. Though not very large, it was heavy. When she had unlatched and opened it, she understood why. Not only did it contain several pairs of jeans and several sweaters, but Serena had packed underthings and even a portable hair dryer and a plastic bag of toiletries. However, it wasn’t the practicality of Serena’s choices that attracted Elizabeth’s attention, but the one garment that was wildly impractical and completely fabulous. The rich peach-colored satin of a negligee and matching robe glowed jewellike against the sturdy fabric of a pair of denim jeans. Elizabeth’s hand reached out to stroke the satin fabric and discovered that there was a note pinned to it.

  You’ll notice there’s not one bead or sequin to be found on the enclosed negligee, but every woman needs a bit of glamour occasionally. Don’t argue, wear it. It’s from a medieval collection I designed two seasons ago, and I always thought it made me look like Morgan le Fay. It will suit you much better.

  Serena

  Elizabeth lilted the robe from the suitcase and held it up. It was a magnificently romantic garment, and the color would look good on her. Jon had never seen her in anything so seductive.

  Seductive. Elizabeth felt color rise in her cheeks. The word had come so naturally to her mind. Seduction. Was that what she intended tonight? Her hands tightened on the peach-colored fabric. She would never be beautiful, but in this sensual garment she would come close. It would surround any woman in an aura of glamour. Why was she hesitating? Only that same morning she had bewailed the fact that she always appeared in such unflattering attire before Jon, and now she had been given the perfect remedy.

  Elizabeth grinned as she draped the gown over her arm and picked up the hair dryer and the bag of toiletries. She turned and walked briskly toward the bathroom. Oh, yes, by all means, she definitely planned on seduction.

  She looked as vibrantly feminine as one of Gunner’s Sybras.

  Jon felt his breath catch in his throat, and he had to tighten his grip on the boxes of food he held to keep them from falling to the floor. “Beautiful.” She was beautiful. Her brown hair hung straight and shining past her shoulders, and her skin was as ripe and silky as a peach, reflecting the glowing shade of the satin which flowed around her in a sensuous cloud. The robe was loose and fluid, the sleeves enormously wide and graceful. The gown beneath it was also loose, with a low square neck that revealed the lush slopes of her upper breasts. “Serena’s design?”

  Elizabeth nodded as she took the boxes from him and stood back to allow him to enter. “Her medieval season. She said every woman needs a little glamour in her life. Do you like it?”

  “Yes.” He had trouble forcing out words from his dry throat. “Sybra.”

  She gazed at him in bewilderment. “What?”

  “In Gunner’s province in Garvania there was a social order of women who were dedicated only to the sensual pleasures. Every thought and action was aimed at increasing their desirability and sexual performance. They were called Sybras.”

  Elizabeth wrinkled her nose. “It sounds like a very boring life.”

  His lips twitched. “They didn’t seem to find it boring, and I guarantee their partners never complained of ennui.”

  “Did you ever—” She broke off. She didn’t want to know. She was feeling shy and insecure enough without knowing she would be competing with a bevy of sexual experts. She turned away and moved to stand by the round teak table near the window. “You were gone a long time. I was beginning to get worried.”

  “I had a few phone calls to make, and some thing was bothering me so I decided to check on it.” He closed the door and locked it. “And I stopped to buy a bottle of wine. It’s not a terrific year, but I thought you might appreciate a little touch of class with our take-out specials. Heaven knows neither our surroundings nor our dinner has any great degree of 61an.” He was scarcely aware of what he was saying. The silk moved and flowed against her body with her every movement. Her bare, shapely feet were visible from beneath the hem of her robe and, for some odd reason, their nudity was almost as arousing as the sight of her breasts jutting from the neckline of the gown.

  His gaze followed her across the room. He took the bottle of wine and two wine glasses from the paper bag he still carried. “The man at the liquor store assured me this was Napa Valley’s finest.”

  She looked up after setting the paper plates of rice, beans, and burritos on the table. “Who did you call?”

  “Gunner, for one.” He smiled as he met her surprised gaze. “I contacted him through our local man. I thought you’d feel better if I could tell you I’d spoken to him directly. Andrew’s fine. He’s eating well, sleeping well, and ac cording to Gunner, he’s enjoy
ing Einstein enormously.”

  “Thank goodness.” Elizabeth collapsed into a chair. She hadn’t realized how frightened she’d been until now. “Where are they?”

  “At a small hotel near Rochester. They’ll be joining us tomorrow at noon.”

  “Wonderful.” Her smile was so radiant, it made him catch his breath.

  “Yes.” He cleared his throat and forced him self to look away. He shrugged out of Dane’s suede car coat and threw it on the bed, then seated himself opposite her at the table. His hands were trembling as he opened the wine, and he could feel her gaze on his face. “I told you they were all right.”

  “But how did Gunner get away from them? What happened to Bardot’s men?”

  “Bardot’s men are on their way to San Diego.”

  Elizabeth gazed at him in bewilderment. “San Diego? What on earth are you talking about? Why would they go to San Diego?”

  Jon didn’t look at her as he poured the bubbling white wine into their glasses. “Because Gunner told them that Bardot had ordered them to go there. He also told them a top-security blackout was in effect, and they were not to use their mobile phone or try to contact anyone until they reached San Diego.” He put the bottle down on the table. “According to Gunner, they should be driving through Colorado right now.”

  “Gunner told them. Why would they believe …” She stopped. “Hypnosis?”

  He nodded. “Combined with telepathic command.”

  “Mind control. It’s incredible,” she whispered. “You can actually make them do things against their will? Can you make anyone do what you want them to?”

  “Almost anyone. Gunner has an eighty-five percent success rate in mind control, and mine is a little higher.” He met her gaze un flinchingly. “But it’s only done in the most extreme cases. To use our abilities to subvert another person’s will or trespass on their privacy breaks the raznal. In our group that’s a crime punishable by death, and there are only a few men who have the right to issue the or der to ignore the raznal.”

 

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