I hesitated, debating how honest to be. I had yet to tell anyone that the family had killed Patrick. Partly, I was afraid that the knowledge itself was simply too dangerous to share. But the truth was that I had no idea whom to trust. The closest I had come to doing so was with Adam, and that was too strange and unsettling under the circumstances to contemplate.

  Softly, I said, “Yesterday you were afraid that if we weren’t all careful, all of us--starting with Todd--could end up under a bridge the same way that Patrick did.”

  “Christ, Grace, I was drunk! You can’t take anything I said seriously.”

  I didn’t buy that for a moment. The alcohol had merely loosened Will’s tongue, revealing fears so deep and dark that in the cold light of day he didn’t want to acknowledge them. I couldn’t blame him for that but it just made me press harder.

  “You think that there’s something wrong with the official version of Patrick’s death, don’t you?” I challenged. “You started hinting at that a few weeks ago when you told me that he had a knack for putting things together but that he didn’t know when to stop. Did Todd say something that reminded you of that?”

  Will groaned. “I can’t believe that I thought you were a quiet, calming sort of woman. You’re relentless.”

  “That shouldn’t be a surprise to you. I’m a Delaney, no matter how much I might wish otherwise.” Before he could respond, I asked, “Do you watch horror movies?”

  “What? Why would you--?”

  “Because in every one of then, there comes a time when some innocent person postpones doing or saying something. Right then, at that moment, you know who’s going to die next.”

  Will’s grunt told me that I’d scored a blow. His words confirmed it. “I really underestimated you, didn’t I?”

  Under my breath, I murmured, “You’re not the first.”

  My family had always done so but they were hardly alone. I’d been guilty of doing the same to myself. An unwelcome thought flashed through my mind: From the beginning, Adam had believed that I had the strength to endure what he intended to do to me. How perverse that the man who was my captor should, in his own way, have greater respect for my character than anyone else did.

  And how shattering that he no longer seemed to do so, at least not when it came to dealing with the threat from Sebastian.

  Before I could dwell on that painful reality, Will provided a welcome distraction.

  “You win,” he said. “I’ll tell you but fair warning, you’re going to be disappointed. You know that Todd’s wife, Carla, works for the foundation? And that Patrick did an internship there the summer before he died?”

  “I do know that.” I’d only narrowly escaped the same fate. The foundation was one of Grandmother’s pet places for putting family members who needed or wanted at least the illusion of doing something useful.

  Will went on. “According to Todd, a year ago, right after Patrick’s death, Carla confided to him that your cousin had gotten really upset about something he’d stumbled across at the foundation. She claimed not to know what it was but Todd said that given your grandmother’s over-reaction to the reporter’s question, he thought maybe Patrick had discovered that something fishy really is going on there. Now he’s worried that whatever it is could blow up and wreck his campaign.”

  I had to hand it to my brother. Grandmother was concerned that he was taking his eye off the ball? The truth was that he couldn’t see anything beyond it.

  “Whereas you realized that it could mean something a whole lot worse than that?” I asked.

  He sighed. “Again, I was drunk. Blotto. In the bag. I woke up this morning and realized that I’d over-reacted…badly. Patrick did talk to me from time to time. I think that was because I’m an outsider in the family and he felt like one. I knew that he was digging into something but I had no idea what that involved. Now that I know what it probably was, I realize that it couldn’t have had anything to do with his death.”

  “Why do you think that?”

  “C’mon, Grace, this is a no-brainer. If mine hadn’t been fried yesterday, I would have realized that.”

  “Explain it to me anyway.”

  “Fine, if your family really is using the foundation to swap favors with dictators, war criminals, whoever, forget about the proof being buried too deep to ever find, it won’t even exist. That means Patrick couldn’t possibly have been any kind of threat to them, whatever he himself imagined. The truth is, I’ve been carrying around this burden, thinking like you said that there was something wrong with the official version of how he died. But if anything really was covered up, it was just to spare his memory and the family’s feelings.”

  Did he really believe that or was he just talking himself into it because the alternative was too terrifying to consider?

  I knew which I thought was more likely. Whatever hope I’d had that Will could point the way to discovering why Patrick had been killed was gone. Even if the answer did lie within the family foundation, he wouldn’t be any help finding it.

  Despite the tightness in my throat, I said, “You still need to be careful. Todd told you more than he should have. He has value to the family because he’s about to win a seat in Congress. But you--”

  No matter how faithful to the family he was, even to the point of banishing all suspicion from his own mind, Will was still no more than a pawn. The best he could hope for was merely to be used. It was far from impossible that he could end up becoming yet one more sacrifice.

  “Lighten up,” he said. “Your grandmother likes me.”

  The weight of everything that had happened in the past twenty-four hours was bearing down on me. I didn’t have the heart right then to tell him that Grandmother’s approval rested solely on a person’s willingness to do her bidding. And even then it didn’t last long. Loyalty to the family had to be proven again and again.

  “I know how you feel about Patrick,” he said more gently. “Until you can put that behind you, maybe it’s for the best that you’re…where did you say you were?”

  “In Switzerland.” There was no point any longer withholding information from him. He’d told me everything that he was going to, at least for the moment. “With Adam.”

  I knew how Will felt about Adam and, since his drunken outburst, how he felt about me as well. Mentally, I braced for his response. But he just sounded resigned.

  “Does the family know?”

  I thought of my mother’s avid delight that I was “seeing” Adam again. If she had known the truth about what he had done to me, would she have cared? As much as I wanted to believe so, I had to face the truth. In yet another strange twist of fate, the only person who had shown any concern for my welfare was Adam himself.

  “I don’t think they’re aware that we’ve left the city,” I said. “I’d prefer to keep it that way.”

  “If that’s what you want, they won’t hear it from me. But Grace…look out for yourself. Okay?”

  I assured him that I would even though I had no idea exactly how I was going to manage that. After we said goodbye, I sat on the bed and tried to think through what I should do. The task proved impossible. My conversation with Will had left me feeling unbearably alone and all too vulnerable.

  Tears threatened but I blinked them back. More than ever, I needed to keep my emotions in check. To that end, I got up and headed for the bathroom and the huge tub I had seen there.

  The moment I stepped into the steaming water, my muscles began to unclench. I lay back with a sigh of relief but not before I glanced at the bathroom door. It had a lock on it that I’d had the foresight to use. After not seeing Adam for most of the day, I had no intention of being surprised by him, no matter how much a part of me might wish otherwise.

  Yet I still couldn’t stop thoughts of him from intruding. I remembered what he had been like in New York--his honesty in admitting that he wanted us to be together, in the process showing a vulnerable side of himself that I’d never seen before. His acknowledgement that the choice was mine, the exact opposite of his more recent behavior. His passion…intense, overwhelming yet not without flashes of tenderness.

  My throat tightened. I breathed in the scent of the jasmine bathing oil that I’d dribbled into the water but the calming effect that should have had eluded me. The more I struggled to relax, the more I failed to do so. Finally, I gave up and got out. Wrapped in an oversized white terrycloth robe that I found folded neatly on a shelf, I returned to the bedroom.

  As I did so, my stomach rumbled. Earlier, Rolf had offered me lunch but I’d declined, my nerves too ragged to allow for any appetite. I wasn’t much better but my hunger couldn’t be denied any longer.

  My gaze fell on the phone beside the bed. Adam had said that I had only to pick it up to have all manner of comforts arrive. Tentatively, I put the handset to my ear.

  “How may I be of service, Miss Delaney?”

  The young woman answered instantly, as though she had been hovering over the phone waiting for it to ring. She spoke with a slight Swiss accent and sounded at once briskly efficient and solicitous.

  “Could I have some tea, please?” I asked. “And a light snack?”

  “Right away, ma’am.”

  She wasn’t exaggerating. I barely had time to pull on a pair of soft, comfy sweatpants and a camisole before there was a knock at the door.

  The maid who entered carried a silver tea tray complete with a pot, cup, sugar-and-cream set and a plate of little sandwiches. She set the tray on a table near the windows and turned to me. With her eyes down, she said, “I was told to give you this, ma’am.”

  She held out a crisp white envelope. The paper felt heavy and smooth between my fingers. I waited until she left before I opened it and drew out the folded page inside. Quickly, I scanned the words, written in a dark blue ink that had come from a fountain pen:

  Please join me for dinner on the veranda at 8:00 pm. Adam

  I envisioned him handling the paper, his long, lean fingers moving across it as he penned the message. The unwanted memory of those same fingers moving over my body sent a flood of hot, carnal longing through me. I tried to tell myself that the summons was yet more evidence of his overbearing, imperious nature; I should be outraged by it. But my gaze remained focused on the one word that stood out above the others: Please.

  Will had talked himself into believing something that in all likelihood wasn’t true because the alternative was simply too dark and threatening. I was desperate not to make the same mistake where Adam was concerned. But if he really was trying to give me a choice, I had to know.

  Everything depended on it.

  Chapter Four

  I wore red. An ankle-length dress in a slinky knit that hugged my body shamelessly. It was a far cry from my usual style, split between decorous elegance for public appearances and sheer comfort everywhere else. I’d bought the dress on a whim and had never actually worn it. But I had boldly tossed it in with other clothes on the quick trip that Adam and I made to my apartment after I agreed to stay with him at the hotel.

  Now I was glad to have it. My reflection in the mirrored wall of the dressing room showed a woman who looked far more confident than I felt. A woman who could take on the world if she had to. Or one particular man.

  At the bottom of the broad steps to the main floor, a liveried footman awaited me. Silently, with a smile, he indicated the way to the veranda. I passed through a long gallery lit by gilded wall sconces and filled with works of Classical Greek and Roman statuary. The faces of ancient gods and goddess watched me until I reached the broad doors thrown open onto the veranda.

  On the periphery of the surrounding darkness, torchères cast a circle of golden light. Heaters positioned below them held the mountain chill at bay. The stone veranda appeared to hang in space, an island floating on air.

  The scent of lilacs bewildered me until I saw a spray of them lying in the center of a round table set with fine linens, china, and crystal. The flames of tall white candles danced lightly in the breeze. A shimmer of awareness coursed over my body. The fine hairs at the nape of my neck rose. Before I turned my head, I knew that I wasn’t alone.

  Stepping from the darkness beyond the circle of light, Adam said, “You look lovely.”

  The quirk of his chiseled mouth hinted at rueful appreciation. My confidence edged up a notch, enough for me to meet eyes that even in the darkness glittered with arctic blue intensity so chill that their touch burned.

  The setting, the dark business suit he wore, even his tone were civilized enough but they did nothing to conceal the ruthless hunger of his gaze. He looked as though he intended to devour me.

  I waivered, caught between the urge to retreat and the all but irresistible desire to go to him, press my body against his, and be enclosed within his arms and his will.

  Rather than do either, I stayed where I was and faced him squarely. My chin went up as I said, “Thank you but I dressed for my own pleasure, not yours.”

  “What makes you think those aren’t one and the same?” His voice was low and husky, laden with sexual innuendo. Inevitably, it stirred memories of how easily--and repeatedly--he could drive me to the heights of pleasure and leave me shattered.

  I took a breath, steeling myself. “We need to talk.” On the chance that he still wasn’t getting the message, I added, “As two people who inhabit the twenty-first century, come from more or less the same culture, and understand that certain behavior simply isn’t acceptable.”

  A flash of amusement darted across his sinfully handsome face. It vanished in an instant, replaced by the razor-sharp gaze of the hunter I knew him to be. I sensed a rising excitement in him. It tugged at me irresistibly even as I shivered at the thought of where it would lead.

  “We could do that,” he said and slid a chair away from the table for me.

  I sat but carefully, making sure that no part of my body brushed against his. Not that I fooled myself. The mere sight of him was enough to challenge my resolve. Combined with the caress of his voice, the clean, masculine scent of his skin and the anticipation growing deep inside me, it made me…

  All the more determined not to capitulate to him.

  A white jacketed waiter approached. Our wine glasses were filled and an appetizer course placed in front of us. When we were alone again, I reached for my glass and took a long sip of a crisp, cool Sancerre.

  Eying him over the gilded rim, I watched the play of muscles in his throat as he, too, drank. For a moment, I let myself imagine what it would be like if New York had been the norm for us rather than an aberration. If we were simply a man and woman, powerfully drawn to one another, alone together in a romantic setting.

  A piercing sense of longing filled me. I set my glass down hard enough that the liquid in it sloshed. Into the clear mountain silence, I said, “Rolf told me about Sebastian.”

  Adam took another sip of his wine and set it aside. His gaze met mine across the width of the table.

  “So I understand. He’s usually more taciturn but I’m glad that he made an exception in your case. Hopefully, that means you spent the day a little less angry at me than you began it.”

  Is that what he thought? A few words of explanation delivered not even personally but by a surrogate and I would be mollified? Clearly, we had a great deal still to learn about each other.

  “Don’t delude yourself,” I said. “I’m only here because you said ‘please’ in your note.”

  In the flickering candlelight, his eyes darkened. He sat back a little, an elbow resting on the arm of the chair, his hand curved around his chin, a long index finger pressed to his lower lip as he studied me.

  I stared back, struggling against the memory of how that mouth felt on mine, hard yet capable of gentleness when the mood swayed him. As it clearly did not now. He wasn’t giving an inch.

  On the contrary, his expression was cool and distant, as though I were a problem to be analyzed and resolved.

  “What should I conclude from that, Grace? You appreciate common courtesy or… You’d like to see me on my knees in front of you? I’m not averse to being there provided I can slip my hands under that enticing dress you chose to wear, stroke your bare legs to the cleft of your thighs, my fingers parting you, my mouth following…”

  A wave of heat moved through me that no amount of Alpine chill could dispel. Quickly, I said, “You can stop right now. I’ll admit that I’ve been weak where you’re concerned. To the cost of my own safety and self-respect. But you went too far bringing me here the way you did. I can’t forgive that.”

  He raised a brow as a sardonic smile came and went without touching his eyes. “Can’t you? Not even if I tell you that just as you were leaving the hotel suite, I was informed that Sebastian was in New York? He was seen in our immediate vicinity, on the very streets where you were about to be, alone. You refused to come back. When I tried to convince you to, you hung up on me.” Without a hint of apology, he asked, “What choice did I have?”

  The news he was imparting--finally--was startling but it changed nothing. Resolutely, I said,

  “Isn’t that obvious? You should have come after me yourself and told me why you were so concerned instead of sending Rolf and those other men to do what they did.”

  Was he truly so accustomed to being accountable only to himself that he couldn’t see that the situation should have been handled differently? At that thought, a wave of despair went through me.

  It deepened when he shot back, “And risk that you would still refuse? What do you think would have happened then? An argument? A scene? Perhaps the police summoned? I had to get you away from there. Every moment counted and you were being…uncooperative.”

  His slight pause made me suspect that he’d almost used a different word. Disobedient, perhaps? He was so accustomed to people obeying him while I was so determined not to do anything of the kind. How could such opposing forces ever be reconciled?

  In a bid to contain my plummeting emotions, I picked up my fork and speared a tender scallop but made no attempt to taste it. All my thoughts were on Adam and the conflict he ignited inside me.

 

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