The Casanova Embrace (21 page)

"Are you well, darling?" Claude asked as she
prepared for bed.

"I think I am getting the flu," she answered.

"Is there something I can do?" Claude asked. He
was being unctuous and she dared not look at him for fear he would see her
loathing.

She awoke the next day exhausted, and her image in the
mirror frightened her. There were heavy dark pouches under her eyes and her
skin was pale and unhealthy looking. When Claude and the children left, she
went back to bed and lay there staring at the ceiling. It was only when the
telephone rang that she realized she had dozed. Hearing Eduardo's voice, she
was instantly alert.

"You shouldn't have done it," he said. His voice
was low, muffled. "They watch. They listen."

"I had to. I can't stand it, Eduardo."

"It is too dangerous."

"I don't care."

"And the news?"

"I will be there on Friday night, at the Chilean
Embassy."

"Good."

"Will I see you today?" she asked, wanting to
press the issue. There was a brief silence on the line.

"Not until it is done," he said. "That is
why I have not called. I think they are watching me closely now."

"I must see you, Eduardo," she said. An idea had
occurred to her. Once again the line was silent, but this time it was her voice
that filled the void. "The pictures. I want to be sure where it can be
put."

"You don't remember?"

"I want to be sure."

She could feel him sigh into the phone.

"I want to be sure," she repeated. His hesitation
reassured her, and although she was deliberately lying, she knew that she had
found a way to manipulate him.

"I am not afraid," she said. "If I have you,
I am not afraid."

"All right."

"Today."

"Yes. Come at noon."

She jumped out of bed, took a long lingering bath, perfumed
herself, feeling her body's signals of longing, and when she arrived at his
apartment she groped toward him like an animal in heat. The touch of his flesh
enervated her and her body lurched with pleasure and abandon.

"You must love me forever," she cried, feeling
the pleasure come in deep waves again. "I want you in me always,
always." She must have been making loud noises, as he put a hand over her
mouth. "I can't help it," she said, when she realized what she had
done. "I must shout my joy. You are my life."

After a while her body relaxed and her mind cleared. When
she opened her eyes, he was watching her.

"I need you so much, Eduardo."

He kissed her forehead and the tip of her nose.

"I had to be near you."

"And the pictures?"

"I'm sorry, Eduardo. I lied." She knew it would
be impossible to lie to him directly.

There was a flash of anger. "I told you it was
dangerous."

"I don't care."

"But there are others," he said. "Other
lives are at stake. They are ruthless killers." His arms tightened and he
banged a fist into his palm. "Your assignment is of the utmost importance,
Marie."

She remembered her conversation with the barrel-chested
ambassador.

"He seems so harmless, almost naive."

"That's what he would like you to think. Believe me,
he is a key man for them here, and what we learn from him could be most
crucial, most crucial."

"He fancies himself a ladies' man."

"He is and I'm sure he finds you irresistible."

"Well," she said gaily, "I must admit he
does respond to my blandishments."

"That is certainly not hard to comprehend." She
felt secretly pleased, although she would have preferred him to be jealous.

"It will be no problem, no problem at all for me to
get him to show me his study."

"I'm sure of that."

She laughed. The anxiety of the previous days had
dissipated.

"What you do to me, Eduardo." She bent over and
kissed his flaccid penis, caressing its shaft with her tongue. He lay quiet for
some time, but he did not grow hard.

"I'm sorry," he said. "My mind seems to be
on other things. And I am anxious about your safety. You had better
leave."

"Must I, Eduardo?"

"Please, Marie. Your safety is essential."

She searched her mind for some excuse to stay.

"Can I see the pictures again?" she asked, proud
of her cunning. He looked at her archly.

"But I thought...."

"One more time. It would be better to be sure."

He bent under the bed, found his brief case, and pulled out
the envelope and pictures, handing them to her. She spread them over the bed
and studied them for some time. She felt his breath on her bare shoulder.

"Well?" he asked.

"I want to be sure that I have explored all the
alternatives." She stroked her chin, feigning absorption. But it was his nearness
that held her attention. Finally she turned toward him and her lips sought his,
her body pressing against him.

"You are my life, Eduardo. There is nothing else in my
life anymore but you."

Although she hadn't intended it, the words seemed like a warning.
When she released him, he gathered up the pictures and replaced them in the
envelope, then returned them to the brief case.

"Everything else in my life is pointless," she
said, unafraid now, caution gone. He must know, she told herself. "I will
do anything you ask of me. Anything."

"Please, Marie," he said. "You must go. I
fear for your life."

"And what of yours, Eduardo?"

His eyes averted hers.

"I am fully prepared to die."

"If you die, I die."

"You mustn't talk like that. It is my cause."

"And now mine."

He was silent for a while. She sensed that he was choosing
his words. If only she knew what he was thinking.

"Are you sure about the room now?"

"Yes."

"And you have the device?"

"It is perfectly safe." She had put it in her
jewelry box.

"The Chilean people will be grateful."

"That is ridiculous." She was suddenly angry. I
am not doing this for the Chilean people, she wanted to tell him. "It is
for you, Eduardo, for you." She drew him toward her, caressing him,
feeling again the fury of her sexuality and the joy of discovering his response
again. He grew hard. She felt a sense of victory. "I love you. That is all
that matters to me. There is nothing else." She drew him inside of her and
she felt her happiness again, her fullness as a woman, and nothing else truly
mattered.

She arrived at the Chilean Embassy in a low-cut gown,
designed to display as much of her upper flesh as was appropriate for a
diplomatic event. Taking great pains with her toilette, she began early in the
day, fussing with her eyes and skin as she never had before.

"Still at it?" Claude called from the living
room. Previously, before Eduardo, his impatience would have been close to rage
and he would have railed and cursed, his anger resounding through the house.
And she would have been suitably obedient and deferential. Not now. She was
contemptuous of the absurdity of his blandness and she deliberately stalled the
final touches to her hair.

"Please, Marie. It's growing late."

She wanted to make a grand entrance, which was not
diplomatic etiquette but, for her purposes, a necessary gesture to draw
attention to herself. It would take some doing to get the ambassador to take
her to his study, and despite her previous optimism, she was not without
trepidation and had spent the last few days mulling over the possibilities that
might defeat her purpose. I cannot fail, she told herself, removing the device
from the jewelry box and placing it in a little pouch that she had constructed
within her dress, dead center, where the slope of her dress reached its lowest
point. She could simply slip out the device by reaching between her breasts and
placing it in one of the alternative places shown in the pictures.

"Hurry, Marie. Please," Claude pleaded. She
looked at the clock. She was already a half hour late. He was at the foot of
the stairs as she moved down, tightening an earring, her purse held under her
arm.

"You look exquisite, Marie," Claude said, kissing
her lightly on the cheek. She was pleased, only because he had validated her
own assessment. A beautiful woman was an enormous asset in the diplomatic
world, she knew, stimulating courtliness and a display of manners and quaint
archness which passed for communication in the ritual of diplomatic
socializing.

"I have never seen you looking so radiant,"
Claude said as they drove to the Chilean Embassy on Massachusetts Avenue.

"Thank you," she said confidently.

"And I love you," he whispered, the words
meaningless. She deliberately did not acknowledge them.

When they arrived at the embassy, the guests were still
having cocktails in the front drawing room. With a quick sweep of her eye, she
noted that there were approximately sixty guests, noting on the posted seating
list that there would be six tables of ten. She looked at the six wheels. She
had, as she had surmised and hoped, been seated next to Ambassador Pallett, at
his left, as protocol required that a guest ambassador's wife be seated at the
host ambassador's right.

In the foyer, the ambassador and his wife greeted her and
Claude with kisses and compliments. She squeezed the ambassador's hand to
heighten whatever effect she might be having.

"You are exquisite," he whispered, his lips
lingering on her cheek a shade longer than might be appropriate. Then he led
them into the front drawing room, where black-tied waiters passed silver trays
of drinks. She felt the ambassador's eyes washing over her even as he passed
through the crowds, playing the affable host. She watched him peripherally,
circling the room, and occasionally when she turned full face, she would
deliberately lock her eyes with his, encouraging his attentions. She knew that
he was heading for her, merely performing the expected social rituals.

Eduardo had explained that the ambassador's study was on
the same floor as the reception rooms, behind the double staircases that rose
on either side of a large chandelier. It had seemed a simple process to find
the study and plant the device, but suddenly confronted with the imminence of
the plan, she began to question its simplicity. She felt conspicuous and was
beginning to regret her deliberate attempt to call attention to herself.
Perhaps it was the wrong strategy, she wondered, wishing that she could somehow
will herself to be invisible.

"Your scent is positively divine." It was the
ambassador's voice. She turned quickly, felt the intensity of his gaze as his
eyes searched blatantly downward into her décolletage. If only he
knew, she thought, feeling her attack of anxiety vanish.

"You're very flattering," she said, moving closer
to give him a better vantage for his obvious interest. "And your home is
always so breathtakingly beautiful."

"Yes, I agree. We Chileans have an eye for beautiful
things." His meaning was unmistakable.

"I would love a grand tour," she requested
quietly.

"It would be a pleasure to show you around."

"I'd love to see where you live and work."

"Well, actually, we have our main offices a few blocks
away. Mostly, this is a residence." Another of the guests had come up to
join them and his voice had become considerably more formal.

"You do not perform any official functions here?"
It was an insipid question. As a knowledgeable diplomatic wife, she knew the
answer. But she was determined to plant in his mind the idea of the study. He
exchanged a few words with the other guest, a silver-haired man who looked
vaguely familiar. The ambassador grabbed him under the elbow and they moved
away to join another group, but she knew he was merely depositing him in
another place.

"So you will give me the grand tour?" she asked
when he had returned.

"I look forward to it."

"And you will be the only tour leader?" It was a
bold probe, but his reaction reassured her. His voice seemed to take on a new
intimacy.

"I wouldn't think of sharing the experience," he
whispered.

"Nor I," she said, feeling ridiculous as she
watched the man puff up again like a bird. He looked at his watch, excused
himself with a conspiratorial wink, then announced to the guests that dinner
was to be served, and the group entered the adjoining dining room.

"You've made quite a hit with the ambassador,"
Claude whispered as he brought her into the dining room. "And see where he
has placed you." He could not conceal his pride in her.

"He's rather a pleasant fellow," she said.

"Lucky, I'd say." He bent over and kissed her
cheek. "To have you for the evening." Claude's fawning added to her
contempt. He had never expressed jealousy if she had been flirtatious with men
of greater rank and importance. Claude seated her and went off to another
table.

Before she had lifted her fork, she felt the ambassador's
leg against hers, stroking it as he talked animatedly with the woman at his
right. Deliberately she held her leg inert until the main dish was served and
she deemed it appropriate to return the pressure. His face glowed with pleasure
as he turned toward her.

"I'm afraid I've been neglecting you," he said.
He had, she knew, overcompensated by giving the ambassador's wife more than her
fair share of attention.

"I don't feel neglected." The reference was
pointed and she increased her pressure on his leg, which he eagerly returned.

"I am, you know, tremendously interested in
Chile."

"Ah," he said warmly. "I'm delighted."

"Frankly, I don't quite understand what's happening
there. It is all so confusing."

"Yes," he said. "We are having our troubles.
We had not expected things to come to this. We are a beautiful country, a
beautiful people."

She thought of Eduardo, his passion, his fear. It annoyed
her to see Eduardo's enemy so vulnerable.