Defy the World Tomatoes (32 page)

She glanced up at Griffin, and he looked her way and winked. She didn’t understand how he could be in such high spirits. The dark-suited man, the butler, perhaps, returned to pour wine, but she took only water. Her hand shook so badly she could barely bring the goblet to her lips, alcohol would have undone her. Griffin, however, entered into a lengthy conversation with Vaughn and his daughter on the merits of various French wines as opposed to their California counterparts.

Their next course was Dover sole amandine. Vaughn assured them the fish had been flown fresh from England that morning. Now expecting a huge meal, Darcy limited herself to two bites, but the sole was also delicious. She rested her fork on the side of her plate and tried to breathe deeply rather than continue to obsess over their dangerously bizarre situation.

The conversation again turned to music, and Darcy was relieved no one expected her to contribute anything. She made a mental note to study the lives of Griffin’s favorite composers in an effort to become more knowledgeable. Of course, if they didn’t make it home, her ignorance would no longer be a problem.

Depressed by that gruesome thought, it took her a moment to come up with something positive. Finally she settled on her gratitude that Griffin had chosen to play the piano rather than the bagpipes. Not that he wouldn’t look smashing in a kilt, but it would have been impossible to pretend a true affection for that peculiar instrument. She could well understand how the Irish had terrified enemies in battle with their pipes, but believed a battlefield was where they belonged.

The white-coated young man returned with their entrée and this time spoke at more length with their host. Darcy couldn’t follow their exchange, but hoped it pertained to the food rather than anything more sinister.

Griffin noted Darcy’s confusion. “He’s describing the pheasant as particularly fine.”

Darcy recalled eating pheasant once in Germany. She sampled a forkful, and it almost melted in her mouth. There were also artichoke hearts, tiny new potatoes and dinner rolls as flaky as croissants.

One look at Lyman Vaughn suppressed her appetite quite effectively, but she sampled everything in an attempt to keep up her strength. By the time they were served a crème caramel for dessert, she was sleepy, and she feared she’d made a big mistake to swallow even a bite.

Griffin rose with care so as not to overturn his small table. “This has been one of the best meals I’ve ever eaten, but if I’m to stay awake long enough to play something else for you, I’ll need some fresh air. Darcy, come with me out to the garden.”

Darcy nearly sprinted through the french doors leading to the terrace. Night had fallen, but the garden’s gravel walkways were well-lit. She reached for Griffin’s hand and led him along a rose-lined path to a majestic marble fountain. The entwined figures of the three graces stood in the center. They were ringed by half a dozen fine sprays that splashed over their feet and filled the shallow pool. Confident they wouldn’t be overheard, she still pressed close to share her news.

“Vaughn knows I’m a landscape architect. Could he have also discovered your ties to Interpol?”

Alarmed, Griffin abruptly pulled her around to face him. “Tell me exactly what he said.”

Darcy repeated their brief exchange verbatim. “If he’s been snooping around Monarch Bay, then we should assume that your cover’s blown.”

“Maybe, maybe not. We were out of the room for several minutes, and he could have done a quick Internet search then. If anyone typed your name into Google, what would they find?”

Darcy hadn’t even considered that possibility. “Defy the World Tomatoes has a web site where I’m listed as the landscape architect.”

“I’ve seen the web site,” Griffin offered. “It’s a good one.”

“Thank you, Mary Beth and Christy Joy designed it, but I think that’s a long shot.”

“Well, for now, I’m not willing to assume anything, except for this.”

He bent to kiss her, wrapped his arms around her waist and, when he straightened, her feet left the ground. It was a possessive kiss, an abandoned assault on her senses that went on and on until they were both dizzy and in need of air. When he finally released her, she slid down his leg to find the ground.

When she caught her breath, she poked him in the chest. “I’ll agree this is a wonderfully romantic garden, but we’ll be damn lucky to get out of here alive. Let’s just steal the limo and go right now.”

“No,” he responded in an urgent whisper, “that would arouse far too much suspicion. We’re going to wait and pretend that we love it here.”

“Easy for you to say! You’ve got your music to distract you. I keep thinking how despicable Lyman Vaughn is, and poor Astrid breaks my heart, but
—
”

“I’ve not been thinking about the music,” he confided softly. “I’ve been remembering the other concerts I’ve given for the terminally ill. Most have been in hospitals, but a few were in private homes. Music has the power to lift people out of their pain, momentarily at least, but it can’t defeat death. Now, what I’m hoping is that we can give Astrid a few hours of peace, and then get out of here first thing in the morning.”

“If Vaughn knows the real reason you’re here, he won’t allow you to leave,” Darcy argued. “We need to get out tonight, and if not now, then just as soon as Vaughn has gone to bed.”

He shook his head. “I didn’t want you involved in this, but now that you are, you’ll do as I say.”

“And if your strategy gets us both killed?”

Griffin chuckled under his breath. “Then I’ll admit to having made a disastrous miscalculation, but at least we’d be together for all eternity.”

“Well, that’s a comfort!” she fired right back at him. She moved closer to the fountain and dipped her hands into the cool water. “Fine, I’ll do what you say, but you’ve got to promise me this is your last bit of intrigue.”

“Darcy
—
” he warned.

“No, let’s not argue. Just go on back inside and play some lullabies so Vaughn and his whole household will fall asleep.”

Griffin dropped his arm around her shoulders as they started up the walkway. “Fine, I’d already planned to play something soft and sweet for Astrid. It’s amazing that even monsters can father nice children.”

“Where’s her mother? If my child were dying, nothing could keep me away.”

“Let’s not ask that question.”

“Do you honestly believe Vaughn would admit to storing her body in the freezer?”

“Darcy, I’d no idea you were this cynical.”

The complaint hurt, but only because it was true.

By the time they reentered the house from the terrace, all evidence of their small dinner party had been cleared away. The nurse had returned and was fussing over Astrid, but Vaughn quickly intervened.

“Tonight, my daughter needs nothing more than time to appreciate our guests,” he assured the pretty nurse, but she did not look pleased as she withdrew.

“What’s your favorite piece, Griffin?” Astrid asked.

He moved to her bedside to answer. “I try not to have favorites, because then I play them too often and swiftly tire of them. The opposite is equally true
—
if I’m not fond of a particular composer, then I neglect his work. Of course, I can then count on being invited to play his most beloved concerto for some prestigious event, and it’s difficult to prepare in time.”

“But you make everything look so easy,” she exclaimed.

“Thank you, but you must remember how many years it took me to reach this level of technical proficiency, and how difficult it is to maintain.”

“I’m so sorry,” Astrid apologized. “I didn’t mean to insult you.”

Griffin leaned down to kiss her cheek. “You haven’t in the least. Now let me just surprise you this time.”

Darcy returned to her comfortable chair, but she resisted becoming complacent. Instead, she wondered what had happened to the burly man who’d ridden there with them from the airport. Was he out patrolling the grounds, perhaps hoping they would make a break for it so that he could use them for target practice?

The butler wasn’t heavy, but he looked tough as a whip, and she sure didn’t want to go up against the housekeeper. Or the chef, who was undoubtedly an expert with knives. Antoine didn’t pose any grave threat, nor did the nurse, but that still left Lyman Vaughn, who might use anything from a handgun to high voltage to defeat someone who got in his way.

Her job, of course, was simply to dote on Griffin and let Interpol handle Vaughn, but not even Griffin’s marvelous music could soothe her fears. Fortunately, after paying him a wistful compliment on his second piece, Astrid drifted off to sleep during the third.

Vaughn rose from his chair to lean over the bed, but satisfied she was resting comfortably, he crossed to the piano. “The wire transfer was completed before you left San Francisco,” he assured the pianist. “But this evening you have given my daughter a gift beyond any price. I will be forever in your debt.”

Griffin rose and stepped around the bench. “It was a joy to me as well. I’ll play for Astrid again tomorrow. We can find our rooms, so we’ll bid you a good night.”

“Good night,” Vaughn responded, and he quickly returned to his daughter’s bedside.

“I’m surprised you didn’t bring any music,” Darcy offered, believing the question safe to ask while they were still within Vaughn’s hearing. “What if Astrid had requested something you didn’t know?”

Griffin shot her an incredulous glance and taking her elbow, escorted her up the stairs. “There are thousands of pieces of classical music written for the piano and, frankly, a great many deserve to be forgotten. Others are universally loved. Those are the ones I expected her to request, and she did.”

“Has no one ever arranged for a private concert and then asked for a piece you hadn’t played?”

Griffin led her into his room, then paused to turn the key in the lock before continuing on into her room, where he also secured the door. He shrugged off his coat and draped it over the chair at the desk.

“I generally confer with my host on the content of the program so I’ll have sufficient time to prepare, but occasionally I receive a last-minute request for something obscure.”

“What do you do?”

Griffin pulled her close. “I do what women often do with other men
—
I fake it.”

He nuzzled her throat and tickled, and she couldn’t help but laugh. “Obviously over-confidence never poses a problem.”

“No, not when I have such good reason to be self-assured.” He slid his hands to the small of her back and pressed her close to whisper, “You’re doing great.”

His room was decorated in a deep forest green, hers in pale pink. The four-poster bed was covered in a thick pink satin comforter, but even with a charming setting and Griffin in a playful mood, she’d never felt less like making love. She gave his lower lip a playful nip.

“Have you ever had sex on a balcony?” she asked.

“No, but this is the perfect night to begin.” He stepped away to open the french doors to the wrought-iron balcony that ran between their rooms. He drew her outside and tugged on his tie to remove it.

“Don’t worry,” he whispered. “I’m not in the mood either.”

Darcy thought better of revealing in any other circumstance he was all she needed to be in the most romantic of moods, but that night she was relieved not to have to give a performance that might be taped. She snuggled against him and took comfort from his strength.

“I’m so tired,” she said in her normal tone. “It was a long flight, and even if it is still daytime for us, we ought to try and get in sync with France.”

Griffin rested his hands on her shoulders lightly, then gave her a long, slow kiss. “Come on, let’s sleep in my room.”

But once they reached the bed, he grabbed the extra pillows and shoved them down under the covers to create believable models of them asleep. He then gestured for her to follow him into the bathroom where he turned on the water in the bathtub and added bubble bath.

“Play with me awhile,” he invited with a charming smile.

“Are you crazy?” Darcy rested her hands on her hips.

Griffin removed his shirt and hung it up on the hook behind the door. “No, but you’re as jumpy as a flea, and I want you to be able to sleep. I’ll stay awake and keep watch.”

“Fine, but what will you do if an intruder appears?”

Griffin’s smile spread wide. “He’ll never know what hit him. Now come on, the surf’s up.”

A bath did sound awfully good, and Darcy peeled off her clothes down to her lacy lavender lingerie before she turned away and glanced up at him through her lashes. “I usually read in the bathtub. I sure hope I won’t be bored.”

“It’s highly unlikely,” Griffin responded with an amused chuckle.

The bathroom had a soft green marble floor and matching walls. The towels were pale green, as was the huge tub. The fixtures were gold and included a handheld showerhead which resembled an antique telephone. An assortment of expensive shampoos and conditioners were placed on a convenient shelf behind the tub.

Darcy waited until Griffin had turned off the water to cast her lingerie aside and climb into the tub. She slid down under the bubbles and covered a wide yawn with both hands. She closed her eyes and sighed softly. “Promise you won’t let me drown.”