Last Resort (35 page)

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Authors: Susan Lewis

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BOOK: Last Resort
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Esther was walking into the embrace of the man Penny had pictured so many times in her mind's eye since the night of the vernissage that she couldn't help smiling to herself now as, seeing him in the flesh, she realized how deficient her memory had been. His pleasure at seeing the old lady was clear and as Penny watched them she began to feel faintly light-headed. Esther was chattering and laughing, but Penny couldn't hear what she was saying. There was a buzz of conversation coming from elsewhere in the bar, but Penny didn't hear that either. Then she realized that Christian was looking at her, 268

holding out a hand to greet her. Penny took it and to her surprise he leaned forward and kissed her on both cheeks.

For one insane moment, as her heart seemed to stop beating, Penny wanted to run. Nothing, just nothing, should be as powerful as this. Having never seen him up close before, it was almost terrifying to find that his eyes were so arresting that she couldn't drag her own away. They were a dark, muddy brown with a light of humour in them that almost, but not quite, disguised an intense sensuality that sent a thrill of excitement chasing through her. His nose was long and straight, his smile was easy, his teeth white and even. His skin was swarthy, his hair, slightly receding at the temples, though dark, was a few shades lighter than she remembered. It was dishevelled, cut short at the sides and curled over his collar at the back. He was tall, though maybe not quite so tall as she'd thought.

"It's good to meet you at last,"

he said, and the way he was looking so directly into her eyes seemed to be telling her that she had been on his mind every bit as much as he had been on hers these past few months.

"It's good to meet you at last,"

she echoed, feeling, to her dismay, a blush creeping over her cheeks.

"Can I take your coat?"

he offered.

Penny slipped it off and as he took it her eyes started to dance at the appreciation he showed of the way she was dressed.

"We're meeting the others in half an hour,"

he said,

"just over the road. I thought we'd have a drink here first."

He turned back to the table where he'd been sitting and Penny saw there was champagne and three glasses.

When they were seated Penny watched the way he turned his attention to Esther, listening patiently and fondly as she wittered on, seemingly oblivious to the fact that her chaperonage was no longer required. Once or 269

twice he caught Penny's eye, narrowing his own as though letting her know that he was far from forgetting she was there. But as Esther chattered on about things and places and people that meant little to Penny, Penny was glad of the opportunity to study him further.

Though he wasn't a conventionally handsome man he had the most compelling presence and unbelievably magnetic eyes she had ever come across. When she realized what else she was thinking, that there was nothing about him that in any way suggested he was a wanted man, she almost laughed. What did she expect? That he would go around with a sign on his head, or dress totally in black and carry a little jolly swag bag? He was wearing a brown polo-neck sweater, the most awful fawn checked trousers that appeared to be at least one size too big, tan cowboy boots, and an expensivelooking brown leather jacket was slung over the arm of his chair. The sweater fitted tightly over his chest and arms, showing the powerful muscles beneath. His movements, his whole demeanour, exuded a confidence that held not a trace of arrogance or conceit.

At some point, she wasn't sure when or how, he drew her into the conversation and it was a while before she realized that, whenever she spoke, his deceptively lazy eyes were holding her, seeming to reach far into the private realms of her thoughts. She could feel herself responding, as though moving into him, becoming a part of his mind, merging with his concentration. Esther Delaney seemed to recede from the scene, as though they were closing off their surroundings, isolating themselves in the silent discovery of each other.

It was ten minutes or more before Penny realized she had sunk into some kind of stupor and couldn't remember a thing they had said. Politeness had made him return his attention to Esther and Penny could only hope that her mouth hadn't fallen open as she'd watched him. Shaking off the stupor was a startling experience, as

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though she had just brought her head above water. The sounds around her suddenly sharpened and the faint feeling of suffocation was gone. Jesus Christ, she thought, what is he doing to me?

"Hey/ he laughed as she downed her champagne,

"not so fast. We've got a long night ahead of us."

Penny's bottom jaw went to one side as she sheepishly grinned. Thank God he couldn't read her mind right now. If he could, he'd probably blush.

"Have you ever visited the Far East, Penny?"

he asked.

Penny raised her eyebrows, puzzled. Then, belatedly realizing that was what he and Esther had been discussing, she said,

"No. Never."

"Christian's speciality is oriental art,"

Esther informed her proudly.

"He's written a book about it and made a TV documentary."

Christian laughed at Penny's look of surprise. T did have a life before all this, you know,"

he told her.

"Quite a full life, in fact. One I hope to return to one day."

"Which particular aspect of it?"

Penny asked.

He smiled and once again Penny felt herself blushing.

"That's easy,"

he said. "The sea. Do you know the sea, Penny?"

She frowned and smiled. T don't think I can say I do,"

she answered.

"Then you must get him to introduce you,"

Esther laughed.

"It's his passion."

Penny's eyes moved back to his. His face was serious now as he looked at her.

"Will you forgive me?"

he said. There is a call I must make."

When he had gone, Penny turned to Esther.

"How are you feeling?"

Esther smiled.

Penny took a moment to think about her answer, wanting to find the right words.

"To tell you the truth,"

she said finally, T can't seem to get a handle on what's going on inside me at all. It all seems, well, so unreal."

Esther chuckled.

"Well, you make a very handsome

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pair/ she said, swallowing the last of her champagne.

Penny smiled.

"Who's he calling?"

she asked.

Esther shrugged. Tvfo idea. He's always on the phone to someone. Business here, business there. He's got to keep things running as best he can so he'll have something to come out to - that is, if they don't confiscate it all."

She stooped to pick up her bag.

"Well, I don't think you need me any more. Say au revoir to him for me and I hope you have a splendid evening."

It was a while before he came back by which time Penny was into her third glass of champagne. As he sat down she couldn't help sizing up his body and wondering when was the last time he'd made love.

"Esther asked me to say au revoir for her,"

she told him.

He nodded, picking up his glass. Then, after staring down at the floor for a moment, he lifted his eyes back to hers and said, How do you feel about giving the ballet a miss?"

Penny swallowed hard as her heartbeat faltered.

"That's fine by me,"

she said softly.

Suddenly he screwed up his eyes and pressed his fingers into the sockets.

Penny watched him, wishing she could think of something to say. In the end he looked at her again, searching her face with his eyes.

"You understand everything about me?"

he said.

"What has happened? The position I am in?"

She nodded.

"Yes, I understand it."

"You realize that at any moment someone could come through that door and I will have to leave with them?"

"Yes,"

she said.

He paused, his eyes still on hers.

"It would give you quite a story, wouldn't it?"

That's not why I'm here,"

she said, holding his gaze.

Several seconds ticked by as he continued to look at her, the infinite depths of his eyes seeming to convey the thoughts that were in her own mind.

"Did you know this was going to happen between us?"

he asked finally.

272

Penny's heart felt as if it was turning inside out. "Yes, I think so/ she whispered.

"Did you?"

He shook his head. T don't know. I guess so, but I try not to think too much about these things."

There was a craziness to this that must have reached him too, for they both started to laugh.

"This is a hell of a time for you to come into my life,"

he said.

Penny's lips compressed in a smile.

"I was beginning to think I never would/ she said, watching him closely.

Laughter sprang to his eyes and emptying his glass he put it back on the table.

"I confess/ he said,

"to questioning your motives for wanting to meet me."

"Do you still?"

Again he laughed and rolling her eyes, Penny said,

"OK, if you did, I wouldn't be here. So what happened to convince you?"

He shrugged.

"Call it instinct/ he said. Then, with a wry smile, he added, T guess we both know that something happened between us the night of the vernissage, which was why I called you afterwards. I hadn't met you, but I'd seen you and, well, I guess I wanted to know more about you. Esther told me you were a journalist, but/ he shrugged,

"I wouldn't be in the position I'm in now if I didn't take risks. But things have changed a lot this last year or so, I have to be more careful, so I did a bit of research and everything I found out indicated I could probably trust you."

"So/ Penny said, her eyes sparkling with mischief,

"what took you so long?"

Grinning, he said,

"Don't take this badly, but I'm afraid, affected as I was by you, you weren't at the top of my list of priorities."

Feeling herself flush, Penny looked down at her glass.

"Of course not/ she said.

He waited for her eyes to come back to his, then said,

"Do you want to go somewhere to eat?"

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She nodded, though whether she'd be able to swallow a morsel was another question altogether.

After settling the bill they left the hotel and strolled towards the Croisette. The November night was crisp and clear and as they drew closer to the sea they could hear the gentle sough of the waves and the rustle of wind in the palms. She told him about Nuance and he told her more about the world of oriental art. His English was so perfect she could almost believe he was American, but then a trace of an accent would break through and she would find herself responding to the warm, gutteral sound.

They chose a sparsely populated seafood restaurant between the Carlton and Martinez Hotels, where they were shown to a window seat and waited no more than a minute before champagne was brought to the table.

"Did you order this?"

Penny laughed.

He nodded.

"I didn't hear you."

"Would you prefer something else?"

"No, champagne is just fine."

As the waiter poured, she watched her fingers idly playing with a fork. She desperately wanted to ask him more about the crimes he had committed, but knew that if she did he'd be sure to think she was trying for a story after all.

When they were left alone he picked up his glass and tilted it slightly towards her.

"Go on,"

he said,

"ask away."

Pursing her lips in a smile at having been so easily read, she touched her glass to his. Then, after taking a sip, she said, This is genuine interest, you understand? I mean, I've never met anyone who's ... How shall I put it?

... in your position before and I have to tell you that you're nothing like how I imagined a drug baron would be."

She grinned self-consciously as he laughed at her description of him.

"Is it true,"

she said,

"what I read about you? How you organized the whole thing, all 274

those container ships and the decoys and the enormous quantities of marijuana that were taken into the States?"

He nodded. Tes, it's true."

She looked at him, feeling, not for the first time, slightly in awe of his ...

was it genius? Certainly it required a brilliant mind to succeed as he had, when you considered the sheer scale of the operations he masterminded. As for the money he had made ...

"A hundred million dollars?"

she said.

He laughed.

"An inflated figure by my estimation. But sure, it was a lot."

She was tempted to ask where the money was now, but thought that perhaps that would be pushing too far.

"How did you get into it all?"

she asked.

He took a breath and let it out slowly.

"Well, I guess I'd been looking around for some time for something that presented a real challenge since that was lacking elsewhere in my life. I'd been dealing in art for years, I had plenty of people working for me who could run things perfectly well without me and what I really wanted was to get back to the sea. I knew a few guys who were into the smuggling game - it's hard to avoid them in the East

- but they were pretty small-time. So we got together and ... well, the rest is history."

"Didn't it ever concern you that you were likely to end up in prison?"

He shrugged.

"Sure, but I guess that was half the fun, outsmarting the DEA and the straight Thai or Hong Kong cops, of which there aren't many, I'm here to tell you. It's a real battle of wits and when the adrenalin gets going, when you've got FBI choppers buzzing the ship, or you're flying a plane loaded with cash into the Caymans or wherever, and you don't know what the hell might be waiting for you when you get there ... well, it beats the hell out of a nine-to-five existence."

Penny looked down at her glass, realizing that she felt horribly parochial in her role as the editor of a

275

small-time magazine where the highs were so insignificant in comparison they couldn't even be measured against those he was talking about. Not that she wanted to go out and commit a crime, but she could easily imagine the excitement of his life, the fear and the glamour and the sheer exhilaration of pulling it all together. For a moment she almost wished that she didn't lack the nerve to get involved, for her cowardice made her feel so dull.

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