Notorious (8 page)

“Phone calls. Ever since Ben died there have been phone calls. Every night. Sometimes during
the day too. I answer the phone and there’s silence, and the phone is hung up.”

“A practical joker?”

She smiled with an effort. “I didn’t find the joke very funny. I was going through a bad time, and I didn’t need that kind of war on my nerves. I started to need pills to sleep at night.”

“Why didn’t you get your number changed?”

“I did. Twice. And I switched to unlisted. I still got the calls.”

“I think we should tell Sabin about this.”

“No, it’s my business. Sabin’s already trying to run my life to suit himself. I’m certainly not going to throw any more bits and pieces of it his way.”

Carey’s jaw set stubbornly. “Sabin should know. If you won’t tell him, I believe I’d better.”

Mallory’s lips tightened. “You set me up once, Carey. I can forgive one betrayal, but I won’t a second.”

He flinched. “That stung.”

“Most people are hurt by their own actions.”

He sighed. “Okay. I won’t tell Sabin … yet. But I’m going to keep Randolph on the job for a bit longer. Just to see if anything else happens.”

“Nothing will happen.” She smiled brilliantly at him as she pushed back her chair and stood up. “There’s a chance the vandalism has nothing to do with the phone calls.”

“That’s why you immediately connected the two.”

“I’ve been a little paranoid lately.” She crooked her finger at him. “Work.”

He rose to his feet. “Cuing you won’t be work. You should attend one of Sabin’s brainstorming sessions, if you want to see work.”

“Don’t be so sure. Cuing can be monotonous as the devil.” She moved toward the door. “I’ll get the script. Meet me in the garden in ten minutes.”

“Break time.”

Mallory turned to see Sabin coming toward them down the garden path. “I can’t stop now. I need to go over this scene again.”

“The doctor said you need a nap every day. That takes priority.”

“Rescue, at last.” Carey sighed as he tossed the script on the bench beside him. “And I thought
you were a perfectionist, Sabin. She must have made me go over that scene a hundred times.”

“Well, take a break, and then go to the library and fax those contracts to Paris.”

“You’re going to take the bid?”

“Hell, no, not unless they agree to the clauses I inserted.” Sabin’s hand closed on Mallory’s wrist. “As soon as they get the contract, they’re going to call and kick up a fuss. But tell them either to put up or no deal.”

“What if they want to talk to you?”

“Tell them I can’t be disturbed.”

Carey looked at him in surprise. “Well, that’s a first.”

Sabin was pulling Mallory toward the house. “I have a delicate constitution, and I need my rest.”

Carey chuckled. “I can see you’re fading away.”

“I need to go over this scene,” Mallory protested. “And I’m not a child to be sent to her room for a nap.”

“Who’s sending you to your room? You’re going to my suite, and I’m going with you.” He
pulled her down the hall. “I know damn well you probably wouldn’t rest if I left you to your own devices.” He slanted her a smile. “You’re clearly a project that needs close monitoring.”

He threw open a door and pulled her into a large bedroom. The furniture was simpler, the colors bolder than in her own suite. Crimson brocade draperies were pulled back from the long windows and matched the coverlet on the king-size bed. “Lie down.”

She stared at him warily.

He shut the door and kicked off his loafers. “Lie down,” he said again as he crossed the room and pulled the drapes closed. Dark, softly intimate shadows invaded the room. “Take off your shoes and loosen your clothing.” He stood there, waiting. “Come on. Do you need me to help you?”

“I don’t mean to stay very long. I need to get that scene right.”

“There’s plenty of time.” He watched her until she settled herself on the crimson coverlet before moving to stand over her. “A three-hour nap and I’ll let you work two hours before dinner.”

“Let?”

“Poor choice of words.” He lay down beside her, not touching her, his gaze on her face. “Open mouth, insert foot. You already know what a rough bastard I am.” He rested his cheek on his fist. “Go to sleep.”

She chuckled suddenly. “You expect me to go to sleep with you lying there staring at me?”

“Why not?”

“Because I feel as if I’m being stalked.”

“If I was stalking you, you’d know it. I’m not subtle.”

“If you insist on staying here, why don’t you go read a book or something?”

“Because I kind of like lying here and looking at you,” he said simply.

She felt an odd melting sensation and quickly lowered her lashes to half-veil her eyes.

“When I’m away from you I forget how beautiful you are. It always comes as a fresh shock.” He leaned over and gently passed his hand over her lids, closing them. “But it’s even better now. I like the way you look with your black hair all silky and mussed on my pillow.” His voice, deep,
rich and musical, came softly through the darkness. “And I … like taking care of you.”

A touch of wonder had threaded his tone. “You sound surprised.” She yawned. “Haven’t you ever—”

“Shh.” She could feel his big body shift on the bed as he drew her close.

She went rigid and then relaxed when she realized there was nothing in the least sexual about the embrace. The heaviness of his arms held only comfort and loving tenderness.

“Isn’t this nice?” he whispered, his lips brushing her temple. “You’re as soft and cuddly as Old Joe.”

“Old Joe?”

“When I was a kid, I had a toy giraffe named Old Joe.”

She drew closer. “Why old?”

“He had old eyes. They looked like they’d seen the birth of the earth.”

“Most kids have teddy bears.”

“Old Joe and I understood each other.”

Because Sabin had been forced to be old before his time too, she wondered drowsily. Without
thinking, she slid her arms around him and burrowed her face in his shoulder. “I had a panda bear. Actually, I still have him. He’s packed away with some furniture and books in a warehouse in Chicago.”

“Most kids seem to have bears. They’re cuter than giraffes.”

She nodded. And their eyes weren’t old and weary but bright black buttons, suitable for a child’s world. “Where’s Old Joe now?”

“Lord only knows. Go to sleep.”

She was already half-asleep, she realized. “You, too?”

“I’ll try later.”

“You should find him.”

“Who?”

“Old Joe.” Her voice was barely audible. “You should hold onto things you care about. You shouldn’t have let him go …”

She was deeply asleep.

Sabin lay there as the minutes ticked by, his gaze fastened on the drapes across the room. Lord, he hadn’t thought of Old Joe in over twenty years. It was hardly any wonder. Old Joe had
belonged to a gentler Sabin Wyatt, a child who hadn’t known the world was more often dark than bright and had little place for gentleness or affection.

Sabin’s gaze shifted thoughtfully to Mallory’s face. He knew why she had resurrected the memory of that time. Mallory, too, possessed a certain gentleness, a seeking for the bright side, a hope for the future.

What the hell had he done to himself by bringing her to Kandrahan? What had started as lust was changing into something else entirely. Lord, he was even indulging in maudlin reminiscences about the boy he had been and a dumb toy giraffe that had probably been thrown away twenty years ago. If he had any sense, he would send her to Marasef tomorrow and get back to the world he could control.

She stirred against him, and he looked down quickly, his arms instinctively tightening in protection and possession.

And he knew he wouldn’t be sending her to Marasef tomorrow.

I
T WAS NEARLY
six o’clock when Mallory opened her eyes. For a moment she stiffened in alarm as her drowsy gaze met Sabin’s watchful stare only inches away.

“Hello.” His voice was as alert as his stare and he immediately released her and sat up. “You’d better go to your room now and dress for dinner.”

“It’s not late.” She could have bitten her tongue. It sounded as if she were asking him to let her stay. “I mean, we didn’t dine until almost eight-thirty last night.”

“But it will be seven-thirty from now on.” He stood up, came around the bed, and reached out a hand to pull her to her feet. “You need to get to bed earlier.”

“Naps every afternoon, early to bed. I feel like an invalid.” She brushed a strand of hair back from her face. “You’re not my doctor, Sabin.”

“No, but if I were, I’d do a hell of a lot better job than that pill-slinging Dr. Blairen. Since you’re in my care for the next weeks, I look upon myself as your guardian.” He bent and retrieved her sandals from the floor beside the bed and handed them to her. “Your slippers, Cinderella.”

She sat down on the bed and slid her foot into the white sandal. “I can’t see you in the role of guardian either.”

“You’ll find I’m very good at it. I’ve had a lot of practice.” He smiled crookedly. “Though not with people. My experience lies with guarding corporations, but I’m sure the principle is the same.”

She put on the other sandal and stood up. “I’ve never been compared to a corporation before.”

“Assets, deficits, vulnerabilities, strengths.” He shrugged. “Both corporations and people are a mixed bag. You have to protect and nurture and guard against certain things in both of them.”

“But you prefer corporations.”

“Usually.” His expression became guarded. “It’s safer.”

She quickly masked the twinge of sympathy she felt at his words. He would neither accept nor appreciate pity. She moved toward the door. “I’ll see you at dinner. I have to make a phone call to New York. Will you ask Carey to place it for me through the Sedikhan operator?”

“Who are you going to call?”

She turned as she opened the door and shook her head. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to phone the FBI or the State Department. Considering my present notoriety I doubt if they’d pay any attention if I shouted ‘wolf.’” She suddenly grinned as she realized the unintentional play on words. “Though if the shoe fits …”

His light eyes twinkled. “Or the fangs?”

Her smile faded. “The telephone call?”

“You didn’t answer me.”

“I promised James Delage I’d call when I arrived in Sedikhan. He said Gerda would be anxious about me.” She made a face. “He warned me not to come here when I called to say good-bye. I suppose I should have listened to him.”

“No, you were right. What was there for you in New York if you hadn’t come?”

“Possibilities.”

“You have that here.” He met her gaze. “Infinite possibilities.”

She pulled her gaze away. “I don’t want to worry James and Gerda more than they are already. I should have called when I first arrived.”

“And are you going to cry wolf to the honorable solicitor?”

“Don’t be silly. Why should I worry him when I’m half a world away?”

“Very sensible.” The tension ebbed from him. “I didn’t want to have to muzzle the man. He did a good job with your defense.”

“He’s been very kind to me. I don’t know what I would have done without him when Ben was shot.”

“Gratitude’s permitted,” he said curtly. “But you don’t have to go overboard. I don’t like to hear about the men who have been ‘kind’ to you.”

“What do you—” She stopped as she understood. “For heaven’s sake, James and Gerda have been married for five years. Do you think I’m some kind of femme fatale?”

“Yes.” He didn’t look at her as he jammed his foot into his loafer. “You’re a woman whom men go crazy over. At least, that’s been my experience. Why should James Delage escape the net?” He didn’t give her a chance to answer. “After you’re dressed for dinner, go to the library. I’ll have Carey meet you there and place the call.”

“Thank you.” She started to close the door.

“Wait.”

He was frowning at her. “I’m … sorry. I shouldn’t be barking at you. It’s my fault.”

She was as surprised by the apology as she was by his words. “What’s your fault?”

He was silent a moment. “I’m jealous as hell. I know Delage isn’t anything to you but it doesn’t help much. I’m not very secure. It’s not easy to play the bad guy.”

“In most cases villain roles are much richer than that of the hero.”

His lips twisted wryly. “But not nearly as rewarding.”

“True.” She stared at him thoughtfully. “You keep surprising me.”

“It’s my strategy. I intend to keep you off balance until you fall into my arms.”

She slowly shook her head. “I don’t think it’s calculated. You’re clever, but I don’t believe that cleverness is Machiavellian.” She swung the door shut. “I’ll see you at dinner.”

“You’re just in time.” Carey held out the phone to Mallory as she walked into the library. “The phone’s ringing now. I placed the call to Delage’s office. I didn’t have his home number on hand.”

Mallory grinned as she took the receiver. “I’m surprised those private detectives were so remiss in their duty.”

“We weren’t interested in your lawyer until Sabin—” He broke off and smiled sheepishly. “Forget it.”

“I think I’d better.” The phone was ringing, and she half-sat, half-leaned against the edge of the desk. The receiver was picked up by James’s secretary Lila, and Mallory was immediately put through when she identified herself.

“For Lord’s sake, Mallory, where the hell have
you been?” James’s voice was harsher than she had ever heard it. “We’ve been worried sick about you.”

“I’m fine. I just had a little problem placing a call. I’m in the middle of the desert.”

“On location?”

“Sort of.”

“What do you mean ‘sort of? You’re either on location or you’re not.”

“Stop cross-examining me, James. I’m fine, and I’ll be going back to Marasef in three weeks. I’ll call you again when I’m permanently located.”

“Give me your phone number there.”

“No number.”

“I don’t like this, Mallory. I want you to get on a plane and come home immediately.”

She was startled by the sharpness of his voice. “I know you and Gerda are concerned, James, but I don’t appreciate orders. I’ll come back to New York when the picture’s finished.”