She gazed at him gravely and then her face lit with a luminous smile. “I will.” As she turned and started up the stairs she glanced back at him. “Aren’t you coming?”
“I’ll be right up as soon as I put the photographs away and turn off the light.” He grinned. “That’s one thing I learned a long time ago. Always put away your puzzle pieces safely so they’re not misplaced.”
“I won’t have any worthwhile pieces to put away until Peter sends me that translation,” she grumbled. “I always get the answering machine when I call now.”
“And he doesn’t call you back?”
“No, he just expresses me another batch of photographs in the next day’s mail. Do you realize how many hundreds of photographs I have in that desk drawer now?”
“You don’t suppose he’s gently pulling your leg?”
“Of course he is.” She smiled reluctantly. “And it’s very bad of him. I need that journal.”
“So you’ll call him tomorrow.”
“He’s got to run out of film sometime. I think he’s keeping Kodak in business.” She proceeded up the stairs, but at the landing she stopped again and turned around. “I’m scared, Alex.”
He frowned. “Now, that’s ridicu—”
“Don’t be silly. Not about the Wind Dancer.” She motioned impatiently with her left hand. “You’re going to pick up LeClerc’s final prototype this afternoon. What if it’s not any good?”
“And what if the Wind Dancer were born in a bolt of lightning?” Alex chuckled. “The chances are just as likely. LeClerc’s a magnificent craftsman. Stop worrying and go to bed.”
She gave him a sheepish smile as she turned and ran up the stairs.
He stood watching her from the bottom of the staircase. As wary and grounded in practicality as Caitlin was, it had taken a good deal of trust for her to confide in him her feelings for the Wind Dancer. He felt as if she had given him a great gift.
He turned on his heel and entered the study again. He carefully stacked the photographs into a pile and slipped them into the middle drawer of the desk. He reached over to turn out the light on the desk.
The phone on the desk rang.
He stopped in midmotion, looking at the phone. Only Goldbaum and Katrine had been informed they were at this number, and neither would call in the middle of the night unless it was an emergency.
He picked up the receiver.
“Alex, my boy, I’ve heard you’ve been looking for me.”
A bolt of shock ran through him. “Ledford?”
“Who else? Like you, I’m unique in the scheme of things.”
Alex’s hand tightened on the receiver until his knuckles turned white. “You son of a bitch. I’m going to cut your heart out.”
Ledford chuckled. “I knew you’d be displeased with my little statement with Pavel. But it was for your own good, Alex. You weren’t taking me seriously enough and I had to warn you. Though I guess I always knew it wouldn’t do any good. I understand you’ve been running all over Europe trying to find me. I’ve been trying to resist calling you for months, but I’ve never been good at ignoring temptation.”
“How did you know where I could be reached?”
“I have my own sources, just as you have. It wouldn’t help if you did succeed in finding me, you know. I’m invulnerable to you.”
“Then you won’t mind telling me where you are.”
“Oh, no, that would spoil everything. I’m beginning to look forward to the challenge.”
“There is no challenge.”
“But of course there is. It’s just like the chess games we used to play, only with much higher stakes.” He paused. “I wonder if you know what a lonely man I am, Alex.”
“I wonder if you believe I give a damn.”
Ledford didn’t seem to hear the bitter sarcasm in Alex’s tone. “It’s true. Ambitious men are forced to keep themselves at a distance. One of the happiest and most relaxing times of my life was when we were together at Langley.”
Don’t let the anger keep you from thinking. Keep the bastard talking. Make him give you more information. “What kind of game are we supposed to be playing?”
“Why, hide-and-seek. What else? And perhaps cat-and-mouse on my part. I’m afraid I won’t be able to resist teasing you a bit after all of those humiliating defeats you heaped on my head. I’ve been thinking a good deal lately about all you took away from me when you left Langley. It rankles, Alex.” He paused. “Let’s see, what little morsel shall I give you tonight? You asked where I am. I’m speaking from Athens at the moment, but of course I’ll be gone by the time you fly here from Paris.”
“Won’t our little match interfere with your great master plan?”
Ledford clucked reprovingly. “Sarcasm doesn’t become you. It really is a master plan and I’m going to pick up all the marbles this time.”
“All? How about your ‘associate’?”
“I was never one to work in tandem for very long. He bores me. He’s very bright but not gifted as you are.” Ledford suddenly laughed. “And, speaking of gifts, I have one for you.”
“Your head on a platter would be nice.”
“How cruel. Now, personally, I’m a great believer in gifts. They say so much. I believe your gift should have been delivered to your doorstep by now, so I’ll bid you a good night, Alex.”
“Wait. Tell me—”
“Good-bye, Alex.” Ledford hung up.
Alex slammed down the phone, ran out of the salon and into the foyer, and threw open the front door.
Lying in a graceful swathe on the doorstep, embellished by a red satin ribbon, was a man’s blue cashmere scarf identical to the one he had last seen wound around Pavel’s neck.
8
“Have you got it?” Caitlin asked eagerly as she met Alex at the front door later that day. Her gaze flew to the briefcase in his hand. “Did you see it? What’s it like?”
“Yes, I’ve got it.” Alex shut the front door behind him. “And if you’ll stop asking questions and come with me into the salon, you’ll see for yourself.”
“Sorry. I’m excited.” Caitlin trailed after him into the gold salon adjoining the foyer. “You didn’t let me see any of the preliminary prototypes and I’ve been waiting for this for four weeks.”
“I wasn’t complaining.” Alex set his briefcase on the table in the center of the room and unsnapped the lock. “I like to see you excited.”
Caitlin’s gaze lifted from the briefcase to his face. The words had been spoken absently with no hint of sexual innuendo, and she was suddenly aware his manner was charged with a curious tension. “What’s wrong? Don’t you like LeClerc’s package?”
“It’s remarkable. You’ll be pleased.” He unwrapped a small object wrapped in Styrofoam. “This is the bottle.”
The crystal container was an exquisite flow of sweeping, graceful lines in the form of a pyramid, and the glass itself possessed an oddly layered look that made Caitlin feel as if she were looking into a crystal ball or a clear lake with great depths. She touched the crystal with her index finger. “It’s lovely. Why a triangle?”
“LeClerc thought it would evoke power images of the pyramids, eternity, mysteries, etc.,” Alex said. “The golden script with the name Vasaro will have an Egyptian hieroglyphic look.” He drew a small black box from the briefcase. “This is the box. What do you think?”
“Stunning.” The cardboard box looked amazingly like wood and possessed a thickly lacquered veneer that shone with a dull sable luster in the afternoon light pouring through the windows. “And Vasaro will be in the same gold script on the box?”
Alex nodded. “And here’s the pièce de résistance.” Alex carefully unwrapped the last small object. “The Pegasus. LeClerc thought it better not to reproduce the clouds and the base. There was no way to create another Wind Dancer, so he created his own Pegasus. The running stance is the same as the statue and will bring the Wind Dancer to mind without looking like a cheap copy.”
r /> “LeClerc’s a genius,” Caitlin whispered as she took the crystal Pegasus and gazed wonderingly at the stopper. As Alex had said, LeClerc’s Pegasus was not the Wind Dancer but it was all grace and exultant, fluid lines. “It’s a work of art.” Caitlin set the stopper in the bottle with great care and stepped back to look at it. “He got the effect he was looking for. It’s . . . magical.”
“You don’t mind the emphasis being on the Wind Dancer instead of Vasaro?”
“Why should I mind? The Wind Dancer has had a great deal to do with Vasaro’s history.” Caitlin smiled. “It’s all one.”
Alex’s stare lingered on her luminous face for another moment before he pulled his gaze away. “I’m glad you feel that way.” He began to rewrap the bottle and stopper. “I’ve air-expressed a replica of the package to Andreas with a request for him to send the contracts. He should have it tomorrow and I don’t see how he could object to LeClerc’s work.”
“Neither do I.” Caitlin picked up the cardboard box and ran her finger over the smooth lacquered finish. How had LeClerc managed to get that woodlike texture? “We were lucky to get him.”
“Luck?” Alex raised a brow. “You told me this wasn’t your lucky year.”
“Maybe my luck has changed.”
“This wasn’t luck.” Alex took the box from her and replaced it in the briefcase. “LeClerc liked your perfume and wanted in on a good thing.”
“And you paid him double what you should have.”
“He would have done it anyway. Just not as quickly.” Alex snapped the briefcase shut. “LeClerc is an artist in a business where his art is seldom appreciated by the public. The fanfare we’re going to get with the Wind Dancer will give him a chance to show off his artistry and earn a little well-deserved praise. The money wouldn’t have worked without the showcase.”
“So you found out what he wanted and gave it to him.”
Alex nodded. “We gave it to him. He was ready to show me the door before you stepped in and earned us more time to pitch. He also liked the idea that your perfume was good enough to attract a repeat buyer and keep his creation out there in the marketplace indefinitely.”
“And he gave us what we wanted.” Caitlin smiled. “I’m beginning to think your formula works.”
“Yes, it works.” Alex looked away from her as he set the briefcase on the floor by the table. “Sometimes.”
Caitlin’s gaze flew to his face. “Something is wrong.”
“Baccarat is dragging their heels. Even with a hefty bonus they still want another six months to produce the bottles.”
“Six months? Can we give it to them?”
“No.” Alex smiled grimly. “So I’m flying to Ireland tomorrow to talk to Waterford.”
“I thought you were set on Baccarat.”
“Oh, we’ll get Baccarat. They know Waterford is capable of giving us what we want in our time span. We hold a carrot out to Waterford, and Baccarat will be there, snapping it away from them.”
“It sounds a little ruthless.”
“It’s business.” He looked away from her. “I’ve told Andreas to express the signed contract to you at Vasaro and I made a reservation for you on a flight to Nice tomorrow. You’d better call Jacques to pick you up at the airport.”
Caitlin looked at him, bewildered. “What are you talking about?”
“You’re leaving Paris.” Alex still didn’t look at her. “I have to stay here to fight with Baccarat and start arranging for media coverage for the arrival of the Wind Dancer and Chelsea Benedict. But you don’t have to be here for any of that.”
She hadn’t had to be there while LeClerc was creating the package either, Caitlin thought dully, but Alex had wanted her with him. Now it appeared he did not. “No.” She quickly lowered her lashes. “It will be good to get home to Vasaro. I’ve missed it. When will you need me back?”
“A week. October third. I’ll complete the arrangements for the party and coordinate the news conference for the fourth.”
The party. She had been so dazed by the pain of rejection, she had forgotten about the party. Her party, the party at Versailles she had worked so long and hard to make a success. She felt a flare of anger pierce the desolation. Why the devil was she being so meek? “The hell you will.”
He stiffened. “What?”
“I’m not being sent back to Vasaro just because you’ve decided you want out of a relationship.” She turned to face him. “It’s my perfume and that’s my party. I’m staying in Paris until after the party at Versailles.”
“You can’t, dammit.”
“I can do anything I please.” She glared at him defiantly. “I won’t let the fact that you’ve become bored with me hurt my perfume or Vasaro.”
“I’m not bored with you.” Alex’s voice was rough. “It’s better if we’re not together right now.”
“That’s right. You’ll be busy.” Caitlin forced herself to give him a bright smile. “I’ll be busy too. We needn’t even see each other while I’m here in Paris.” She turned and moved toward the door. “I’ll leave for Vasaro right now, but I’ll stay there only overnight to make sure Mother signs the contracts. Then I’ll bring them back to Paris and check into the InterContinental, where you made reservations for Chelsea and Jonathan.”
“That’s not good enough. I want you out of Paris until the day of the party.”
“We can’t always have what we want.”
“Caitlin, I can’t explain, but there are reasons that you can’t stay here.” Desperation tinged his voice. “Good reasons.”
“There’s a better reason for me to stay. Vasaro.” Caitlin hurried out of the salon and up the stairs. A moment later the door of Catherine’s room shut behind her and she moved quickly toward the armoire where her suitcase was stored. She would keep busy and the pain would go away. It was idiotic to feel hurt anyway. She had known from the beginning there was nothing between them but the lust that had drawn them together.
But there had been more between them.
They had taken walks together, eaten at sidewalk cafés, argued the benefits and drawbacks of the total lowering of the economic barriers between European countries, traded views on art and religion and bureaucracy. In these past weeks, besides passion they had shared laughter and a joint purpose that had forged the tentative links of friendship.
Yes, that was it. Friends. She seized on the word gratefully, desperately. It hurt when friends no longer wanted your company. Pain was to be expected in such a circumstance.
She slung the suitcase on the bed and began to pack. She would keep herself busy with the party and afterward she would be free to go back to Vasaro, where she belonged.
Alex was right, they would be much better apart for a while.
A knock sounded before Alex walked into the bedroom. His lips were set in a grim line as he closed the door behind him. “I have something to tell you, Caitlin.”
“You used me?” she whispered.
He flinched at the word. “Yes, I won’t deny it. I did it deliberately and with . . . considerable forethought.”
“Why?”
“I told you that my friend Pavel was murdered last June. It was done because I had stumbled on a connection between— Anyway, it was my fault. I was working on one of my damned puzzles and I saw a connection between the Black Medina and the art thefts. The modus operandi was the same as one used by a man who had worked with me in the CIA, Brian Ledford. Pavel was killed to prevent me from going any further with the puzzle.”
“And the Wind Dancer?”
“Ledford had always been fascinated by the Wind Dancer. I knew if I could get it here, he’d try for it.”
“And you used me and Jonathan to get it here.”
“Yes.”
She shut her eyes. “Christ, I feel like a puppet.”
“I didn’t want to hurt you, Caitlin,” he said hoarsely.
“Well, you did hurt me.” Her eyes opened to reveal eyes glittering with tears. “You ba
stard, you did hurt me. Who gave you the right to manipulate us all like this?”
“I didn’t only take,” he said. “May I remind you that I gave you all what you wanted?”
She laughed huskily. “That’s right, you did. A fair trade, because you gave us what we want—” Her voice broke on the last word and he took an impulsive step forward.
“No!” She took a hasty step back. “No, thank you. I don’t want that any longer, so you don’t have to pretend.”
“I didn’t lie about what we are together, Caitlin.”
“I don’t believe you.” She shook her head dazedly. “So what do we do now?”
“You leave Paris. It’s not safe for you here.”
“Why not? You’re the one this Ledford evidently hates.”
“He’s . . . twisted. I don’t think he killed Pavel only as a warning. He did it because Pavel was my friend.”
“Twisted? Well, tell him I’m nothing to you. Tell him you were only using me. That should satisfy him, don’t you think?”
“Caitlin, I didn’t—” He broke off and shrugged helplessly. “Why the hell did you think I risked everything to tell you? I told you about the scarf on the doorstep. I can’t be sure of anything as far as Ledford’s concerned. He knows I’m here and he may know about you. If you go back to Vasaro now and stay there, you may be safe.”
“And if I don’t?”
“The publicity about the Wind Dancer begins to hit in the media tomorrow. I can’t guarantee anything after that.”
“I’m not asking for guarantees from you.” She sat down on the side of the bed and pressed her fingers to her throbbing temples. “I’m trying to think what’s best.”
“It’s best for you to go back to Vasaro.”
“No, that’s not an option.”
“Why not, for God’s sake?”
“Because the Wind Dancer will be arriving in Paris next week.”
He became still. “You’re not going to call Andreas and tell him about Ledford?”