The Silver Fox and the Red-Hot Dove (20 page)

“He wanted to protect you?” she asked gently, thinking that Kash Santelli probably loved his adopted father very much, and with good reason.

“Yes. The businessman involved has a nasty reputation for revenge.”

“Why would he want revenge against you?”

“I helped to destroy his son.”

Her hands rose to her face in shock. “You mean his son died because of you?”

Audubon nodded. “Indirectly. He committed suicide rather than be exposed for what he was—a kidnapper and a spy. Remember Sara Surprise? Kyle’s wife?”

The pretty elf with the strawberry-blond hair. Her husband, with his terrible scars. “Yes.”

“She was one of the people he had kidnapped. That was before she met Kyle. She’s a biologist. A researcher. Later I’ll explain why she was kidnapped, but I don’t have time now.” He paused, grimacing. “The man who kidnapped her was responsible for Kyle’s scars.”

“And he was a spy on top of all that? Who did he work for?”

Audubon stroked her arm. “The Soviets.”

Elena’s horror made her turn away, pressing her fingertips over her mouth. Tears burned her eyes. “I see why you never wanted to discuss all this with me before. Is his father—the man who threatens Kash, now—is he a Soviet spy too?”

“Miguel de Valdivia? No, darling, he’s just your garden-variety greedy bastard. Elena, come here.” He pulled her into his arms and stroked her bare back. “There are plenty of self-serving, despicable people in the world. Your country has no monopoly on them. Don’t take it personally.”

“I’ll feel dirty by association if that man does something terrible to Kash.”

“Don’t even
think
like that. This vendetta isn’t about government intrigues; it’s about fathers and sons. Kash has disappeared in Mexico. I don’t doubt he’s capable of taking care of himself, and I’ve sent some of my best people there to help him. He may just be in hiding. I’m still trying to find out.”

She drew back and looked at him miserably. “I’m afraid for you.”

“My dear dove, this crafty old fox has survived the hunt too many times to be outsmarted now.” But then he kissed her deeply, pouring much more emotion into it than he had put into his words.

Breathing roughly, wanting to cry but adamant that she wouldn’t, Elena tilted her forehead against his and shut her eyes. “When Kash is safely home, you’ll have to introduce us.”

“Of course. But he won’t believe it, you know.”

“Believe what?”

“That you beat me at checkers. I’ll tell him you cheated.”

“Oh, you!” She gave a hollow imitation of a laugh and shooed him off the bed. He walked to the bedroom door and paused, looking back with a sad, yearning expression that stabbed her.

“A wonderful new life is ahead of you,” he said. “I hope it makes up for all those years at the institute.”

She nodded, forcing herself not to admit what she was screaming inside:
Don’t talk as if I’ll be going on without you
.

She floated in his arms. Above them, the glass roof of the pool house showed a universe of stars. The night sky came right down through the glass and hovered around them, seeming to be careful not to creep too close to the cluster of candles by the pool’s edge. The water reflected blue light and made the pool into a fantasy daytime shy. She felt protected by the shimmering light. Infinite amounts of
time were locked in the light, the warm water, and Audubon’s touch.

He cradled her in water so deep that when she leaned her head on his shoulder, the water lapped against her chin. She put her arms around his neck and turned her face toward the crook of his neck, then kissed the hollow of taut muscle just above his collarbone. For a moment she looked beyond the edge of the pool, where all of their clothes were jumbled together on a wicker chaise longue. “You’re certain that Bernard won’t be coming by to ask if we’d like after-dinner coffee, or anything else?”

“Bernard, my dear dove, has been politely instructed to scram for the night.”

“Scram?”

“Vamoose. Take a powder. Beat it. Go away.”

“I hope he doesn’t bruise himself.”

She felt the pull of Audubon’s smile against her temple. “He’s in his apartment.”

“Oh. Very good.”

“He and Clarice are probably playing footsie by now.”

“What kind of game is that?”

“Well, in the case of Bernard and Clarice, I imagine that it involves one set of very dignified toes and one set of very naughty ones.”

“Are you saying they’re lovers?”

“Yes, they have been for several years. You’d never know it by watching them together during the day, would you?”

“No! They’re extremely formal with each other.”

“I walked into the library once and saw Clarice tickling him.”

“What was Bernard doing?”

“Saying in his most solemn British-butler accent, ‘Really, now, you she-beast, really.’ But he was grinning. Not smiling. Grinning. I wanted to take a picture so I could show it to the rest of the staff, as proof that he has teeth.”

Elena chuckled. “You adore both him and Clarice.”

“Yes. I wish I’d had grandparents like them.”

She smoothed a finger down his throat and into the silky, matted hair of his chest. Ah, she thought, his family mysteries. Trying to sound casual, she asked, “What were your grandparents like?”

“My father’s parents didn’t enjoy children, so whenever they visited I was shuttled off to another part of the house. I only remember their cheeks and their checks.”

“What?”

“I dutifully kissed their cheeks each time the nanny presented me for inspection, and I received checks from them on my birthday and at Christmas. As for my mother’s parents, they lived in Europe. I rarely saw them. To sum it all up, I wouldn’t have cared if I’d had no grandparents.”

“Oh, you would have cared. If you’d never met them, you’d always wonder what they were like. I’d give anything to have known mine.”

“Elena.”
His voice was full of apology. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think.”

“Shhh. I stopped feeling sorry for myself years ago. When you grow up being alone, it eventually feels normal to you. You hear other people talk about their families and you think, ‘How odd to have so many people care what happens to you!’ ”

Audubon rubbed circles in the small of her back. “I know. I’ve always wondered how people can see themselves as part of a group, instead of alone.”

“I envy them.”

“But I wonder if they feel suffocated sometimes.”

“No, I suspect they feel cushioned. Without a family, there’s no one around to catch you when you fall.”

“Or to notice and remind you of your clumsiness.”

“You certainly don’t seem to mind having a son. What an interesting contrast to your cynical view of family life.”

“Kash was already eight years old when Douglas Kincaid and I smuggled him out of Vietnam. And he’d lived a very rough life. It was like moving another adult into the house, not a little boy. Kash and
I have never been pals or confidants, the way fathers and sons are supposed to be.”

Elena thought,
But your love for him shows every time you mention his name
. “Was
your
father your friend?”

“Hardly. I have better taste.”

“Audubon, what happened to your parents and sister? And why did you sell the estate that had been in your family for generations?”

He was silent, and she lifted her head to look at him. “How did this conversation come to such a morbid subject? I will tell you sometime. But please, let’s save tonight.”

How bad could the story be? Elena’s sympathy mingled with a dark urge to find out. He studied her face. “Don’t be angry. If I didn’t care so much about your opinion of me, it would be easier to share this. But I don’t want to spend tonight discussing something so ugly.”

The quiet anguish in him overwhelmed her questions. She kissed him. Changing the subject abruptly, she held up one wrist and nodded toward the small, oval bump beside the tendon. “When I come out of hiding, one of the first things I’d like to do is have this removed. From now on I want to make my own decisions about my body.”

“Do you want children?”

“Someday, yes. For now I’d just like to know that I control the decision not to have them.”

He circled her wrist with his fingers and rubbed the implant, as he studied it grimly. “I don’t have any right to ask this, but …”

“How many men were there?” She gave him a victorious look. “I can read your thoughts.”

“Hmmm. A psychic talent you haven’t mentioned?”

“No, pure feminine intuition. But I have to remind you that I’ve never asked you about the women in your past. I was afraid I’d be shocked. I was certain I’d be jealous.”

“Let’s put it this way—there are too many for a string quartet but far too few to make a full orchestra.
Not a large number considering how many years I’ve been a music fancier. Actually, I’d like to specialize from now on. I’m a one-instrument man, at heart.”

She relaxed, patting his chest. “And you play it so well.”

“Thank you.” The lighthearted conversation didn’t make him forget his earlier question. Winding his fingers through hers reassuringly, he said, “I’m only asking you about the past because this gut-wrenching fear won’t leave me alone.”

“Fear?”

“That you were treated like a clinical sex toy by dozens of men. I want to know how you feel about sex so I won’t upset you in some unknown way when we make love. And frankly, I’d like to be certain that, after everything you went through, you can still enjoy the
romance
of it. I want you to very much.”

“Dear man.” Unable to say more without crying, she nuzzled his face lovingly until she could calm her voice. “I’ll have to begin writing poetry for you as well as making flowers bloom. I doubt that my poems would be very eloquent, but they’d certainly come from the heart.”

Tilting her head back, she held his gaze firmly and told him about the boy she’d known when she was twenty-one, and then about Pavel, who’d seemed so romantic and sincere but who’d only been following Kriloff’s instructions to keep her occupied, while he reported on her progress.

Audubon looked relieved and sympathetic. “You should have had a few more men, so you’d know exactly how fantastic I am by comparison.”

That broke the somber mood, and she was able to smile. “I have no doubt I’ve found the best. How many men could eat tangerines in bed without getting juice on anything except the breasts of the person next to them?”

“Why, I like fresh-squeezed juice and fresh-squeezed …”

“And how many men could recite Shakespeare while kissing delicate parts of the female body?”

“Not many. Especially when you kept interrupting with your pleas for more. It nearly ruined my concentration.”

“I was asking for more Shakespeare, of course.”

“Of course. Yes, I’m in a class by myself.”

“And so humble about it.”

“But let’s keep talking about
you
. What do you like best about me?”

They broke into soft laughter at the same time. “Your good taste in choosing women.”

Humming under his breath, he carried her to the side of the pool and lifted her up. The rough-grained stone edge gently abraded the backs of her thighs as she caught her balance. Then his shoulders were spreading her legs, and his hands were sliding up their inner surface, followed by his kisses.

His intentions were as clear as the night sky, and suddenly her skin was alive to its own universe of sensation. Audubon’s arms slid under her legs, and his hands gripped the sides of her hips, helping her to lie back on the smooth tile floor. The pool sipped at her dangling feet. Droplets of water licked her belly as they trickled downward. Audubon began to trace the water’s journey with his mouth. “You taste very good, indeed,” he whispered.

Paradise was this night, and loving him.

The shrill chime of the telephone ended the waiting. Audubon grasped the portable unit from his nightstand before the first chime finished. He’d been awake for hours waiting for this, watching Elena sleep, stroking her hair.

Either she’d been pretending to sleep or sleeping lightly, because now she sat up and trailed a hand over his shoulders as he left the bed. He went to the room’s large window and opened the drapes a few inches as he listened to the voice at the other end of the line.

A white quarter moon sat low in the sky. Its edges were so crisp that the moon looked like a crescent stamped out by a cookie cutter. That whimsical thought was a soothing contrast to the adrenaline pumping into his bloodstream. He told the caller he’d be leaving immediately, then cut the connection, and called downstairs to get the helicopter ready for a trip to the airport where he kept a small, private jet.

When he finally laid the phone down, Elena switched on the Tiffany lamp beside the bed. Her face looked serene in the soft light, but her blue eyes showed stark anxiety. “You’re going to Mexico?”

“Yes, love. I have to.”

She got to her knees on the edge of the bed and held out her arms. His emotions under guard, he stood stiffly beside the bed while she hugged him, with her head against the center of his chest. She sent her strange, wonderful glow through him, and he trembled.

God, he’d try his best to come back to her. If he didn’t, arrangements had been made to transfer an enormous sum of money and valuable stocks to her. Jeopard, Kyle, and Drake would make certain Kriloff could never take her back to Russia. They’d help her settle in this country and see she got her beloved bookstore, her pets, her home.

She’d marry eventually, have children, and think about him less and less as the years passed. She’d keep her amazing gift a secret except to the trusted few she could help without destroying herself.

He wanted that version of the future for her, if he didn’t come back, but right now the thought of it made him feel as though his heart were being ripped out.

She pressed her lips to a spot over his heart, then slid down, placing small kisses on his torso, then his sex, before rising again and lifting her face to his. “I’ll be waiting, my handsome silver fox. I wish you could take my love and my powers with you to keep you safe.”