Defy the World Tomatoes (30 page)

The couple across the aisle was sipping wine and now snuggled so close they occupied a single seat. Darcy drank her tea and slid closer to Griffin’s comforting warmth. The evening had begun on such a lonely note, but with an enticing invitation from Griffin, it had become surreal.

After saying no to her first love, a man she’d adored but simply couldn’t follow around the globe, she’d shoved all thought of men from her mind and dived headfirst into her career. Then Griffin had strolled into Defy the World Tomatoes, under what now appeared to be false pretenses, and she’d felt such an intense attraction there’d been no time to warn her heart.

Now look what had happened, she mused. Prior to meeting him, she hadn’t missed a single day of work for Defy the World, but she’d just blown her perfect attendance record and was still precisely where she wanted to be. Maybe it was possible to have it all, she thought sleepily, but so much depended on Griffin that she dared not dream past Paris alone.

She set her empty cup on the tray, this time pulled his hand into her own lap, and fell asleep.

After speaking with Twink by telephone, Christy Joy and Jeremy had gone out for a walk. They had strolled around town, marveling at how quickly merchants had cleared away the storm damage, then stopped for ice cream. Because her bed was so much more comfortable than his bunk, they’d returned to her apartment to continue where they’d left off that morning, but Christy Joy checked her messages first.

She had to replay Darcy’s breathless farewell three times to make certain she understood it before she sat back and looked up at Jeremy. “She didn’t say when they’re coming back, did she?”

“No, she sure didn’t, but you know they will.”

“This isn’t like her at all.” Christy Joy remained on the sofa, picked up one of the throw pillows and gave it a playful punch.

“I don’t have a charter for the next few days, so I’ll come over and help George with the nursery.”

“Thank you, I’d like that, but when I invite you up here for lunch, you’ll know I won’t have food on my mind.”

Jeremy sat beside her and pulled her into a fond hug. “That sounds awfully good, but let’s make certain J. Lyle doesn’t walk in with Twink before we climb the stairs.”

Christy Joy leaned in to kiss him. “You’re right. Tomorrow, I’ll pin him down as to when he intends to bring Twink home, and if it isn’t in the next few days, I’ll go and get her.”

Jeremy kissed her again. “We’ll go get her, and I won’t give a damn if he calls me Popeye when I’ve won the girl.”

Christy Joy savored his next kiss and then sighed, “Honey, why don’t you start calling me Olive Oyl.”

For a couple of hours, Darcy slept fitfully, but then awoke with a start. Their amorous neighbors were now sighing softly with a rhythm that convinced her there was a whole lot more going on under their blanket than hers.

It hadn’t been their near-silent lovemaking that had awakened her, though. It was the sudden awful realization that should their plane experience any difficulty during the flight, she might not be able to wake Griffin. She’d actually seen a television program containing tips for surviving a plane crash in the sea, but it hadn’t included advice on how to rescue an unconscious man twice her weight.

She was sorely tempted to give him a good shake just to see if she could wake him. “God, Darcy, get a grip,” she mumbled under her breath. She’d never been given to panic attacks. Well, withdrawing her savings to open Defy the World Tomatoes had taken an enormous burst of courage. But she’d countered that anxiety with the exhilaration of achieving her dreams before she turned thirty.

Now she was just scared and there was no joyful happenstance to balance her fright. She toyed with the diamond note. It was a spectacular reminder of the man seated beside her, but she felt strangely disconnected from her own life.

How in the world was she going to remain in Monarch Bay, placidly replanting gardens, if Griffin continued jetting around the globe consorting with master criminals to pass tips along to Interpol? Equally worrisome, how was she to help grow Defy the World’s business if she neglected it to accompany him?

Griffin was such an extraordinary man, perhaps he deserved a woman whose mission in life was to dote on him. But she had too many goals of her own to become his devoted shadow. Of course, that was a feeble complaint on a night when she’d willingly accompanied him on his latest adventure.

She tried to breathe deeply and relax, but the engines’ deep hum was far from comforting. Too antsy to remain in her seat, she crawled over Griffin and went to the restroom. She splashed her face with water and peered into the mirror. With a slight pout, she did look like a sultry French woman, but inside, she felt like a deer caught in headlights.

“Darcy, wake up,” Griffin urged softly. “We’ll be landing in a few minutes.”

She opened one eye and was surprised to find he’d been awake long enough to shave and comb his hair. “Why do you look so damn fresh while I feel as though I’ve been turned inside out like a sock?”

“Modern medicine,” he replied, “and I’ve also learned how to clean up real quick so I don’t have to be awake too long.”

Darcy yawned and stretched, then sat up straight. “Couldn’t you use your sedatives to knock out Lyman Vaughn?”

“Slip him a Mickey, you mean? I suppose I could, but I doubt he’ll be alone, and his companions might become suspicious.”

“Yeah, I suppose they would, but please keep it in mind just in case you need an escape plan.”

“Believe me, I file all your ideas.” Griffin stood to ease her way out into the aisle. “You’ll want to fix your makeup before we land.”

Darcy slipped by him and noted the couple who’d kept her awake were asleep, snuggled in each other’s arms.

It took a while to go through customs, but just as Griffin had predicted, a chauffeur holding a placard with his name awaited them. He was a sandy-haired young man with sparkling blue eyes and a ready grin.

“I hope you had a pleasant flight,” he greeted them in softly accented English. “My name is Antoine, and it is my pleasure to welcome you to Paris.”

The chauffeur was a personable young man, not the shifty-eyed fugitive from the law Darcy had feared they might encounter; but that didn’t alleviate her worries about what might await Griffin later.

As Griffin replied, Darcy covered a wide yawn. It was still morning to her, but early evening there in Paris. As the other passengers hurried away, she clung to her lover’s hand.

“I usually stay at the Hotel Meurice in the Tuileries Quarter,” Griffin explained. “The staff is discreet, and they provide excellent service. Do you know of it?”

“Certainly, sir, it has a wonderful reputation,” the young man responded.

“Good. I’d like to take Ms. MacLeod there before we go on to Monsieur Jordan’s.”

“As you wish, it is not out of our way.” Antoine took Darcy’s bag and led the way to their limousine. He stowed their luggage in the trunk, then opened the rear door and made certain they were comfortably seated. “The bar is fully stocked, and I’m told the DVDs are quite entertaining.”

Darcy gave Griffin a startled glance. “DVDs?”

“Don’t worry. Porn doesn’t appeal to me.”

“Thank God,” she replied, but she leaned forward when a second man in a dark uniform slid into the seat beside the driver. The glass partition behind the front seat was raised, and she couldn’t hear what passed between them before the limousine began to roll.

Griffin pulled her back beside him and patted her hand. “Don’t worry, my pet. I’m sure the speaker is on here in the back seat, and should you have a request, they’ll hear your every word.”

Darcy understood his warning and did her best to appear totally unconcerned. But certain something, if not everything, wasn’t right, her heartbeat quickened to a wild thump. The traffic was thick around the airport and, with dark tinted windows, the limousine seemed to float among a sea of lights. She wasn’t fooled, however, by the deceptive calm.

She could only cling to the belief Simon Jordan, or Lyman Vaughn, must be a great fan of Griffin’s to offer a million dollars to meet him and hear him play. She tried to concentrate on that aspect, as it would surely guarantee his safety, but she was still terribly afraid.

“I wish we’d arrived earlier so that we could see something of the city,” she remarked breathlessly.

“You’ve been here, haven’t you?”

“Yes, but it was so long ago I don’t recall much except for the Eiffel Tower and Arc de Triomphe.”

“We’ll make it a point to see everything in the guide books before we go home,” he replied.

They’d been traveling perhaps twenty minutes when he sat forward slightly. “Antoine, we appear to be going in the wrong direction. Are you lost?”

“You need not worry, sir. I know the city.”

The speaker lent the chauffeur’s voice a slightly metallic ring that alarmed Darcy as much as Griffin’s complaint. While she couldn’t tell east from west in a strange city at night, apparently he could. Thinking there still might be time to flee, she checked the doors, but the interior handles had been removed and there were no controls for the windows. She raised her brows and pointed, but Griffin merely nodded. Apparently he’d already noticed the limousine had been rigged for kidnapping.

When they continued on the same route, Griffin knew Antoine hadn’t merely mistaken the location of the hotel. They were headed somewhere else entirely. He addressed the chauffeur in French this time and, while Darcy couldn’t understand his words, there was no mistaking his displeasure.

“I can assure you, Mr. Moore,” Antoine responded in English, “that Monsieur Jordan’s hospitality is far superior to that of the Meurice, but the hotel will be informed to hold your reservation until you arrive.”

Darcy watched Griffin shake his head, but now that the choice had been made for her, she would simply have to deal with her fears. She rose to sit on her knees and, with a sparkling giggle, threw her arms around his neck and pressed her mouth close to his ear.

“Don’t worry,” she whispered. “I’m going to play real dumb.”

Griffin laughed as though she’d offered something else entirely. “Not in the car, Darcy, absolutely not. Now turn around and behave yourself.”

She licked his ear. “What fun is that?”

“I’d no idea you’d enjoy having an audience.”

“I thought chauffeurs were paid to ignore what’s going on back here.”

“No one is that well-paid,” he argued, and he swatted her bottom and forced her back down beside him. “There’s a good girl.”

He looped his arm around her shoulders in a relaxed embrace, but he was furious with himself. It was his colossal arrogance that had landed his darling Darcy in this awful predicament and, determined to get her out safely, he hugged her more tightly.

“The French countryside is very beautiful. Because you know the names of every shrub and tree, I imagine you’ll see a great deal more than I will on our way back to Paris.”

Darcy squeezed his thigh. She was uncertain if he were signaling her to keep her eyes open for landmarks so they could retrace their route, or if he were merely chatting to calm her nerves and fool their silent escorts.

“Yes, I especially want to visit Versailles again,” she responded gamely. “The palace is so very beautiful, but I’d really like to concentrate on the gardens this time.”

“I’ll take you there,” he promised.

She hoped they lived that long. At least she’d memorized the license plate number while Antoine, if that were really his name, loaded their luggage in the trunk.

“I’d hoped to spend tomorrow shopping,” she complained petulantly. “France has such wonderful designers. I hadn’t expected to be stuck out in the provinces.”

“I know.” Griffin sighed regretfully. “I’ll make it up to you, but at least you’ll have an opportunity to hear me play again.”

“Oh, honey, you’re so handsome in your tux, I only hear every other note,” Darcy gushed. If they hadn’t been in such a fix, she would have enjoyed teasing him.

Griffin shot her a skeptical glance in a clear warning not to go overboard. “I’ll set the program after speaking with Monsieur Jordan, but I’ll try to include at least one of your favorites.”

Darcy’s smile froze, but she was relieved not to be forced to name one. She played his CD all the time, but she hadn’t memorized the names of the pieces. Then she realized she did have a request.

“I love your own compositions best. Will you play one of them?”

Griffin rewarded that bit of flattery with an enthusiastic kiss. “That’s my girl.”

Darcy wished that were enough, but she was so anxious it was all she could do not to bounce on the seat like a toddler. When Antoine at last slowed the limousine and turned into a long, curving road, she was so desperate to get out of the car, she feared she might leap out the moment the door was opened and run off into the woods, or whatever terrain lay beyond the road. She would never leave Griffin, though, so she quickly erased a quick escape from her list of options.

Griffin gripped her knee as the luxurious car slowed to a halt. “Just let me run this show,” he whispered. As soon as Antoine opened the rear door, he burst through it.