Forever (41 page)

He laughed. 'She woke up, Mother!' he said
excitedly. There was a joy in his eyes she had never seen before.
'I talked to her!'

Zarah raised her eyebrows. 'Good. The sooner
she is better, then the sooner she can leave. Perhaps as early as
Naples, even.'

Seeing his sudden stony expression, she took
off her sunglasses. 'I know, Eduardo,' she said quietly, 'I know.
You are mesmerised by your Sleeping Beauty. I cannot say I blame
you. She is very attractive. What normal man wouldn't desire
her?'

He did not speak.

'But you must trust me,' she continued.
'Anyone capable of contriving such a dangerous stunt in order to
get on board surely has an ulterior motive, wouldn't you say?' When
he still did not speak, she sighed and held up her thin-fingered
hands. 'Believe me, my darling. The sooner she is gone, the better
- the safer\ - it is for all of us!'

His eyes narrowed. 'How can you say that,
Mother?' he asked tightly. 'You don't even know her!'

'No, I do not?' She stared at him levelly.
'Nor do you.'

'No, not really,' he admitted readily.
Shoving his hands into his trouser pockets, he stared past her, out
at the receding wake. Then he drew his eyes back. 'But I like her,
Mother,' he said softly, looking down at her. 'I like her
instinctively. I want to give her the benefit of the doubt.'

Zarah's eyes flashed coldly. 'You fool!' she
hissed at him. 'You are like all men! Happily led by your cock, no
matter to what treachery it may lead!'

'That's not true!' he blurted angrily.

'Oh? Isn't it?' She arched her eyebrows and
stretched out on her side, letting one arm drape over the back of
the banquette.

'No, it isn't!' he responded in a tight,
angry voice. 'And even if it were, I still don't see any harm in
having her on board.'

'Darling.' She slid her glasses back on, the
earpieces outside the turban. 'You know how reclusive your father
and I both are.'

He laughed bitterly. 'Don't I just! The only
thing I can never figure out is who or what you are both hiding
from!'

'Perhaps the world?' she suggested
quietly.

'Why does that worry you so much, Mother. I
mean . . . you don't even have to see her. I'll keep her away from
the two of you, if that's the way you want it. God knows, this boat
is big enough to get lost on.'

'Keeping her away from us will only rouse
her interest all the more,' Zarah stated flatly. 'Especially if she
turns out to be a journalist or a paparazzo. Worse yet, who knows?
She could even be a spy working for our competitors.'

'A spy!' He stared at her.

'An industrial spy,' she nodded. 'Word may
have leaked out about Dr Vassiltchikov's breakthroughs.'

'You and your Dr Vassiltchikov!' he said in
disgust. 'That's all you care about, isn't it?'

Her facial muscles tensed and her voice went
cold with contempt. 'Perhaps it's only money that she's after.'
There was an interminable pause as she shifted position, her
movements smooth and feline. 'But then again,' she added softly,
'perhaps it's you.'

'Me? How could it be me, Mother? She's never
even seen me before!'

She shrugged delicately. 'Surely she knows
who you are. I'd willingly bet she knew exactly who you were before
she staged that convenient little accident.'

'Do you think she's stupid enough to risk
her life in order to get to us?'

'Considering the stakes? Yes, I do.' Zarah
paused. 'But I don't for a moment think she's stupid, Eduardo. Oh,
no. She's clever. Exceedingly clever. Darling, please!' She reached
for his hand and squeezed his fingers. 'Try to be sensible! There
really is no need to be so glum! It isn't as if she's that special.
Why, you can have your pick of any woman in the world! You know
that!'

'Yes,' he said grimly, 'I know that.' His
movements stilled, and he withdrew his hand from hers. 'But it's
her I want,' he half whispered, staring out at something beyond the
horizon.

'But darling! You don't even know her!'

'In my heart I do.'

'Love at first sight?' Zarah clapped her
hands together and trilled musical laughter. 'My, my, but we must
be smitten!'

'You don't have to make fun of it!' The
words tore angrily from his lips. 'If you want to know, I think I'm
in love with her.'

'In love with her! From what? Sitting at her
bedside for two days? Really, darling. I know you saved her, but
does that make for love? And she being so . . .' She searched for
the appropriate word, and finding none, settled for,'. . . so
common?'

'How would you know she's "common",
Mother?'

Zarah didn't reply. Instead, she sailed
smoothly ahead, her voice now a purr. 'What you need, Eduardo, is
someone of your own kind. Someone of your own . . . class and
breeding!'

He laughed bitterly. 'So tell me, Mother. Is
there any family in the world truly good enough for Eduardo de
Veiga?'

'Truthfully?' she asked. 'No. And how could
there be?' She whipped off her sunglasses and stared at him.
'Although your father is known to be one of the wealthiest men in
the world, he manages to keep the true extent of his wealth a
secret.' Her voice dropped to a whisper. 'But you and I, Eduardo,
we know! We know he is the wealthiest man alive! Wealthier than the
Saudi king, the Sultan of Brunei, the English queen, and all the
nouveau riche
trash combined!' She paused and added in a
hushed voice: 'Eduardo. Listen to me. You are your father's son!
Can anyone else's offspring be equal to his?'

Gesticulating wildly, he stomped angry
circles in front of her. 'Mother, I am not going to jump every time
you say "jump", or come running whenever you call. I'm not going to
seek your permission or blessing for everyone I meet.' He whirled
at her and leaned close. 'Waste your own life hiding away like some
crazy hermit! That's your business.' His eyes blazed and his
breathing came rapidly. 'But don't . . .' he warned in a shaky
whisper,'. . . don't ever try to live my life for me!'

'Eduardo!'

They were interrupted by the soft
ping!
signalling that the automatic glass doors to the salon
were sliding open.

Both fell instantly silent, warily eyeing
each other like two combatants forced by the referee to take a
break between rounds - the older one with experience on her side,
tenaciously battling to keep the younger one, who was showing
new-found independence and muscle, in line - neither of them
willing to drop it and come to terms, each determined to have his
way; both knowing that winning this particular fight would forever
change the structure of power between them.

They were still glaring at one another when
Colonel Valerio snapped to, hands locked in the small of his back,
staring into space as he waited to be acknowledged.

At last Zarah broke eye contact with her son
and looked up at the security officer. Her voice was still sharp.
'What news, Colonel?'

'It's about the passport I faxed to
Washington, ma'am.'

'What about it?' she demanded.

'I just received word from the Department of
State, ma'am. The passport's genuine and in order.'

A sudden knowledge came to Eduardo. 'You're
talking about Monica Williams's passport,' he said softly, his
fists clenched at his side. 'Aren't you?'

'Yes, sir.' Colonel Valerio continued to
stare off into space.

'Christ!' Eduardo swore, and stared narrowly
at Zarah. 'I should have known! Here you were, Mother, talking
about Monica spying on us. And what were you doing in the meantime?
Trying to dig up dirt on her!'

'Not dirt, Eduardo,' his mother corrected
crisply. 'The truth.'

'The truth!' he sneered. 'What would you
know about the truth? My God, you make me sick!'

Throwing up his hands in disgust, he stomped
off.

'Eduardo, come back!' Zarah called after
him, reaching out beseechingly, as though her fingers could draw
him back. 'Eduardo! Don't leave me like this, darling!
Eduardo!'

But he was already gone.

Zarah let her hand drop. For a moment, she
sat there thoughtfully. Then she raised her head.

'Continue digging, Colonel,' she commanded
softly. 'Dig quietly but dig deeply. Everyone leaves traces in
their wake. You know that better than I. And if nothing turns up on
our unwelcome guest, then so much more suspect she will be.'

'Consider it done,' Colonel Valerio
promised. 'Ma'am!' He spun an about-face and marched off.

Zarah picked up the French
Vogue
and
continued flipping through it, every now and then licking her index
finger to facilitate turning the pages.

But nothing in the magazine registered, and
she tossed it aside.

Her thoughts were consumed by the mystery
woman her son had pulled out of the sea, the woman who now occupied
one of the lavish staterooms on the deck below.

Oh yes, that young, attractive face and
youthful body surely held a multitude of secrets - all of which
could, and would, be used against her. They just needed to be
ferreted out.

And nobody could ferret out secrets like
Colonel Valerio and his network of ex-Army operatives. Nobody.

She stretched languorously, like a cat.
Eduardo really is so naive, she thought. He may have won the
battle, but he's not won the war. Oh, most definitely not.

After all, he was still so young and callow.
And she . . . well, she already had a lifetime's experience behind
her.

Dr Vassiltchikov dropped the penlight into
the right-hand pocket of her lab coat, shoved the blood pressure
cuff in the left, and removed the stethoscope from her ears,
letting it hang loose from around her neck. 'Your heart, pulse, and
blood pressure are normal,' she said. 'Amazingly, you show no signs
of a concussion.'

Stephanie grinned. 'Does that mean you're
giving me a clean bill of health?'

The doctor nodded. 'There is nothing wrong
with you that rest and aspirin will not cure. Considering your
accident, I would say you are one very, very lucky young lady.'

'You are the second person to tell me that,'
Stephanie said. 'Soon I might end up believing it.' The doctor gave
her a long hard look.'Believe it,' she said.

Captain Falcao left the first mate at the
computerised helm, walked into the captain's cabin aft of the
wheelhouse, and shut the door. Picking up his intrayacht telephone,
he dialled Ernesto's study.

'Sim?
' The tycoon's clipped voice
sounded hollow from a speaker phone at the other end.

'I hope I am not disturbing you, sir. But
the vessel on the radar screen which followed us from
Marbella?'

There was a brief pause.
'Que ha de
novo
?'

The captain said, 'Nothing, sir. It is still
eighteen kilometres behind us.'

'I see.'

'Should I take evasive action? We can launch
the Larva to confuse his radar. Perhaps whoever it is will follow
the wrong signal. Or I could send the helicopter back to take a
look -'

'Nao
, Captain,' Ernesto said. 'At
this point, I do not think any of that will be necessary.'

'Very well, sir.'

'However, continue to keep me informed and
let me know if the vessel changes course or gains on us.'

'Sim, sir.'

'Thank you,
Capitao
.'

'Thank you, sir!'

But Ernesto had already hung up.

In his study, Ernesto rose from behind his
sleek massive desk with its built-in computer terminals and walked
to the sliding glass doors overlooking the stern. He stood there,
gazing thoughtfully out past the polished rails and stanchions to
the bubbling wake and the hazy horizon beyond.

Interesting, he thought. Beyond that blue
horizon, keeping its distance, but definitely tailing the
Chrysalis
, was another craft. Why? he wondered. Who could it
be? Paparazzi, ever on the alert for photographs of the rich and
their multimillion-dollar toys? No. Paparazzi would keep the yacht
within sight of their telephoto lenses. Curiosity seekers, then?
Perhaps. Or . . .

... Or did it have something to do with the
mysterious passenger?

He turned and went back behind his desk.
Time will tell, he thought. Time usually does . . .

At Sea

In the bathroom adjoining her stateroom,
Stephanie leaned into the mirror over the malachite sink. The
multiple reflections which stared back were surprisingly
pleasing.

Yes, she thought, both Eduardo and Dr
Vassiltchikov had been right. She did have everything to be
thankful for.

Suddenly feeling a thousand per cent better,
she decided it was time to put in an appearance on deck. She hoped
her red-and-white-striped silk crepe slip dress and red tennis
shoes would suffice. If not, she could always change. She found her
extra pair of sunglasses, the ones with red-and-white striped
frames and started to leave.

But first things first. This wasn't supposed
to be a vacation, she reminded herself. She was working undercover,
had got aboard this floating palace with a distinct purpose in
mind. It was time, high time, to set to work. But first, she would
need her camera.

Abruptly she frowned, slowly placed her
hands on her hips, and let her puzzled eyes drift around the
ultra-luxurious stateroom. Funny, she thought, that I haven't come
across it. I know I had it in my room back in Marbella, and Eduardo
said everything had been packed and brought on board . . .

Taking off her sunglasses, she spent the
next ten minutes searching the stateroom from top to bottom.

It was an exercise in futility.

She found everything else - from her freshly
laundered and dry-cleaned clothes to her passport, right down to
the purse-size packages of Kleenex and tampons and a partial roll
of Turns. What she did not find was what she was looking for.