The Silver Fox and the Red-Hot Dove (10 page)

“I’m going to Mexico tonight,” he called to Clarice.

By the time Audubon returned, Elena had finished her wine and nervously eaten half a plate of toastpoints piled with smoked salmon while she paced by the pool. She was accustomed to hearty, slow, sit-down meals, not “grazing,” as the Americans like to call their fondness for nibbling on the run, but she wanted to learn to eat as Americans did.

She halted, staring at Audubon’s approach. Already uncomfortable and worried, she grew even more upset as he took her hands and raised them to his lips for a cool, distracted kiss. His face was drawn because of some private problem; he had aged and become harsh looking in just an hour’s time. His
tall, athletic body was wound tight; every movement conveyed command and swift action. “I have to leave on a business trip to Mexico. I apologize.”

“Business? This evening? Your import/export company demands such emergency action?”

“Yes.”

“Will you return soon?”

“I don’t know.” He swept a frowning gaze over her alarmed and wary reaction. “A little while ago you said that you trusted me. I assumed that you meant it.”

“I trusted a different man from the one who took a mysterious phone call. How can you expect me to feel secure among secrets? Does this trip have anything to do with me?”

“No.”

“If Kriloff discovers I’m here while you’re gone, what will happen?”

“Nothing. Elena, I don’t have time to be diplomatic. Here are the bare facts—very little that you do outside your own suite goes unwatched. I have people working here whom you never see, but they see you. They’ll make certain no one comes here to take you away.”

She drew her hands from his. “And they’ll also make sure I don’t escape. While the master is gone, the servants will spy.”

“All right, look at it that way, if you want. Hell, you don’t even know where you’d go if you
did
get your precious freedom. And I assure you, before you had time to enjoy it, you’d be caught, reprimanded, and shipped back to Russia at Kriloff’s request. I think I have a little better future to offer you than he does.”

“I’ll make my own future.”

“For the time being, you’ll do as I say.” He grimaced at those words and reached for her hands again. She snapped them out of range, cursed him in Russian, and stepped backward proudly.

Right into the pool.

He dropped to his heels as she splashed to the
surface, slinging her newly cut hair out of her eyes. The water was only chest-deep. She righted herself and shot him a burning look of humiliation and fury. “Go!”

“I’m sorry. I wish you found something funny about this,” he said. But there wasn’t a trace of humor in him either. “I’ll tell Bernard to bring you a towel. I don’t have the time or patience.”

He rose, pivoted, and went back into the house, while she stared after him in complete shock, realizing that she didn’t know him at all.

Elena was wary when Audubon sent an apology the next day, particularly because the apology was delivered by a woman.

Elgiva Kincaid, the wife of Audubon’s friend Douglas, arrived with considerably less fanfare than Elena expected of a billionaire businesswoman. Elgiva toted her own suitcase through the double doors of the front entrance, despite Bernard’s protest. Her long auburn hair spilled from under a broad sun hat that matched her white T-shirt and overalls. An enormous diamond wedding ring she wore on her left hand lent interesting contrast to the overalls.

“Very American, wouldna’ you say, lass?” she noted, pointing to herself as Elena stared. Her Scottish burr sang with good cheer. “Audubon asked me to come and have a visit with you while he and my Douglas are off on business together. I suppose he thinks a fellow female can talk you into relaxing. Men! They do no’ understand us, sometimes, do you think?”

“I don’t understand him, either.”

“There’s a wise lass. We’ll be friends.”

As they drank mint tea in the manor’s white-on-white breakfast nook, Elena tried to compose tactful questions about Audubon and Douglas Kincaid. “Are they doing something illegal?”

Elgiva Kincaid almost bit the edge of the china cup. “My husband’s no criminal, lass, and neither is Audubon. Agh! If you’re asking me to explain Audubon to you, you’ve come to naught. In most ways he’s as much a mystery to me as when I met him, and that was two years ago.” Elgiva chuckled. “You see, Audubon doesna’ approve of marriage, and the poor, misguided man is keeping to himself now that most of his cronies have found wedded bliss.”

“It’s something to do with his parents, isn’t it? There was something wrong with their marriage?”

Elgiva’s ruddy, beautiful face saddened. “Let Audubon tell you about that, lass. ’Tis a dark tale, and I only know it because Douglas told me. Audubon never discusses it, just as he never tells what the ‘T. S.’ stands for. Not even Douglas knows, and they’ve been friends since Vietnam.”

“Can’t
anyone
tell me about Audubon?”

“I would, lass, I swear it, but I owe him too much.”

Elena’s hands rose to her throat. “Money?”

“You think dear Audubon is a blackmailer? No, I mean he helped bring Douglas and me together. It was a messy situation between us, and Audubon pushed us in the right direction. Despite his grumbling about marriage, he can no’ resist promoting true love, as long as it’s not for himself.”

“Can you tell me that story, at least?”

“Oh, a wee bit here and there. And I’ll tell anything else Audubon wouldna’ mind. Hmmm. For instance, Audubon and my own wonderful Douglas were heroes in the Vietnam War. Audubon was a grand leader, Douglas says. He used to recite epic poetry—when the fighting wasn’t on, of course—and the men called him ‘Ashley Wilkes’ behind his back.” Elgiva looked at her dubiously. “Do you know ‘Ashley Wilkes,’ from the famous American book about the Civil War?”

“Oh, yes! But I call him Rhett Butler!”,

“Well, I dunna’ pretend to understand Audubon, either way. But Douglas said the men would follow him to hell, if he asked.”

“He must have asked. He was wounded just above his left hip.”

“Yes, leading an attack. And my Douglas carried him to safety. How did you know?”

“I only know about the scar. It’s terrible.”

The announcement that she had learned the rather intimate location of Audubon’s old wound made Elgiva Kincaid lift both eyebrows and try to diguise her curious expression. “Lass, you being here, in his sanctuary, where few strangers have ever been allowed, and the intensity in his voice when he talks about protecting you … well, it adds up to a unique situation.”

Elena gave her a beseeching look. “When he comes back, I have to be ready.”

“Ready for what?”

Elena stared grimly out of a picture window at his fantasy world. The stable manager was exercising one of Audubon’s thoroughbreds. The gardener was at work on an enormous plot of flowering shrubs. But beyond the grounds, the forest closed in, hiding the unbreachable stone wall deep within. “I’m not sure,” Elena replied finally. “That’s the problem.”

It was two
A.M
. The manor was filled with lonely silence, and Elgiva had long since gone to her suite in the other wing. Worrying about Audubon, Elena stood at the deserted end of the hallway outside her suite, one hand balanced on a ponderous teak table in front of a picture window, the other hand extended in front of her as her bare, pointed foot drew ballet figures on the tapestry rug.

She liked the peaceful, shadowy hall and the knowledge she could go anywhere in the house she wished. Small freedoms. Her white silk nightgown was a mischievous influence, causing her to tuck her chin and watch as it clung to the length of her slowly moving leg. Always, her thoughts returned to Audubon. If she could only trace his patterns as easily!

“So you
do
know how to dance,” Audubon said from the far end of the hall. His deep voice, though soft, reverberated off the paneled walls. She brought her feet together with a hurried snap and whirled to face him, instinctively pressing herself against the table behind her as if to make a fighting stance. Her hands braced on the edge, she drew a long breath as he walked toward her with his easy, confident stride, his hands hanging calmly by his sides.

“How long has it been?” he asked, shaking his head. “Three days since I left? I feel as if I haven’t seen you in years.”

His gaze took in all of the simple sheath nightgown, from the thin straps barely caught on her shoulders to the loosely draped bodice and flowing skirt. She had too much pride to huddle as if ashamed he’d caught her dressed this way and performing ballet exercises in the hall.

“Beautiful,” he said, coming to a halt, a stride away. “The dance, the dancer, the gown. All beautiful.”

With a hidden sigh of resignation she admitted that every fiber in her body was humming. The combination of sexual innuendo and polite restraint in his admiration was irresistible. She silently admitted she was glad the gown revealed a detailed outline of all it covered.

“I didn’t have the proper clothes for practicing. Ballet is my hobby.”

“From a male perspective I say you have the
perfect
clothes for practicing.”

She heard his lighthearted tone, but as she studied his face she knew it was a facade. His skin was gray with exhaustion; glancing down, she saw that his clothes, an oddly Latin combination of white trousers and a white shirt with tiny, colorful, glass buttons, were wrinkled and streaked with dust.

“I should have changed before I came up here,” he said, his voice raw, probably from too much talking and too little sleep. “But I was hoping you’d still be awake. I want to apologize for the other day.”

The gown was his ally. It stroked her skin with his
sincerity. Oh, how she wanted to believe in him! Elena shook her head in a gesture that dismissed the incident at the pool. “I’m doomed to be in some awful state of ‘dis-dress’ every time we’re together. It’s only appropriate my new outfit and I should have been a flop.”

“Not a flop. A splash.” Chuckling hoarsely, he amazed her by suddenly sitting down on the floor. He did it in a single, limber movement that nonetheless couldn’t conceal the slump of fatigue in his body.

“Audubon?” she asked anxiously. Elena had never expected to see him like this. Her swift fear for his condition made her drop to the floor near him, hugging her knees to her chest. “Did you just return from your Mexican trip? I mean, just a few minutes ago?”

He nodded. “Walked in, came straight up here.” He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “I thought you might loan me a cup of excess optimism. I’ll gladly repay you on Tuesday for a tingle today … oh, never mind. You’ve never seen a Popeye cartoon.”

Leaning against the polished wood as if it were the most luxurious pillow in the world, he gracefully jackknifed one long leg and then the other, pulling off his dusty white boots. Even his white socks were red with dirt. He tossed the boots aside, stretched his legs out and crossed them at the ankles.

Finally, his eyes half-shut, he looked at her again. “How are you? Do you like Elgiva? I hope she reassured you about your safety here.”

“I am … open-minded. Let’s leave it at that.” She leaned forward and casually rested a hand on his foot, while she continued to scrutinize his haggard face. “Audubon, what’s wrong? What happened?”

His green eyes flickered to her hand. A languid look of pleasure began to cause the tense muscles of his face to relax. “I hoped you’d touch me. I was wondering if I’d imagined the … comfort in it. But it’s real. You’re real.”

“I want to help you. If you want me to trust you, then trust me.”

“It’s not a matter of trust, it’s … it’s habit, I suppose. I’ve never shared very much about myself with other people. Growing up, it was a necessity. But now … well, it’s ingrained. I do it instinctively.”

“Can’t you tell me anything about your business? About your trip to Mexico?”

His somber eyes assessed her for a moment. “I have an adopted son. He works for me. He’s twenty-six years old, and he’s in trouble with a Mexican businessman who disapproves of a project we’ve been working on. He disappeared a few days ago, and I’ve been trying to find him. I have reason to think he’s okay and merely hiding until it’s safe to call.”

“Oh, Audubon, I’m sorry. Your
son
. What are you going to do now?”

“It’s too dangerous for me to go back to Mexico—dangerous for my son, that is.” Bitterness had entered his voice, and she saw clenched muscles flex in his jaw. “I have to let other people look for him, while I ‘supervise’ from here, dammit.”

“Audubon,” Elena said softly, her eyes never leaving his, “Elgiva Kincaid convinced me your business—whatever it is—is nothing illegal. Please tell me she was correct.”

“It’s not illegal, but it
is
unusual, and if I don’t tell you more about it, it’s because what you don’t know can’t hurt you. Another old American saying.”

“All right. At least you’ve told me a little. Perhaps we can trade small secrets until we feel safe enough to share the larger ones.”

He smiled, but with a certain hardness in his eyes. A chill ran up her spine as it had the day he took her from the island. Did he intend to use her in some way she didn’t yet understand?

Then he destroyed such thoughts by leaning forward and stroking his hand over her hair. “You ‘unroll and fluff’ fantastically, as Mr. Rex would say.”

She dampened her lips and intoned with great drama, “When I’m good, I’m very, very good, and
when I’m bad,… I frizz.” He choked on laughter, and suddenly Elena realized that his laughter meant more to her than anyone else’s in her entire life. She
wanted
to please this man, and it was different from wanting to please other people. Wanting to please in the past always had been based on fear … or at least the knowledge that she needed someone’s goodwill. Wanting to please Audubon was based on the simple, pure need to see him smile.

“When you’re good,… you’re puzzling.” He gently brushed the end of her nose with one dusty fingertip. “Where does a Russian find Mae West films?”

“I watched one today,” she explained shakily, wondering how the tip of her nose could be such an erotic area. “Bernard and Elgiva and I. But Clarice watched soap musicals.”