A Perilous Eden

by Heather Graham

  “What? Oh, Amber, I know I was wrong. I should have come around before this. I’ve been thinking only of myself. And you’re upset, so upset—”

  “Peter, no. I can’t marry you.”

  “We’ll talk later.”

  “No. I won’t marry you, Peter. Ever. I’m sorry. I love you as a dear, dear friend, but I’m not in love with you anymore.”

  “I can change—” he started to promise.

  It hurt. It hurt to see his loss, his confusion, his pain, but she couldn’t take them away. “Peter, thank you. Thank you for coming to me, for being glad that I’m alive. But it’s over.”

  “Amber—”

  “No, Peter. But hold me for a minute. Hold me, because it’s so good to have friends.”

  She thought he was going to protest, that he would go into a rage because she was turning down his proposal and asking for something different. He opened his mouth as if to speak, and then he held her as she had requested.

  Maybe we’ve both grown up over this, she thought. His cheeks, she noticed later, were damp. So were her own.

  She stayed in St. Thomas with her father for three days, resting, letting her feet mend. She found out that the young banker who had helped her in the jungle had a wife and three children, and she arranged for a giant smoked Virginia ham with all the trimmings to be sent to his family as a thank you. She received a phone call from his wife that night, thanking her. “He told me that the men were all very proud of you, that Daldrin told them how you were taken because you were fighting for him.”

  “I was screaming,” Amber corrected dryly.

  “Well, anyway, I’m very proud of you, too, and Jimmy, of course, and all the others. And I’ve warned him that he’s out of international banking! He can handle money right here at home from here on out!”

  They talked for a few more minutes, then Amber hung up.

  She and her father took an air force flight to Washington. They had barely boarded when her father began to clear his throat. “Amber, I saw—I saw Tchartoff last night.”

  “What?”

  “I saw Adam. He’s alive. He even managed to get Khazar out.” He hesitated. “I imagine it was difficult for him—he must have wanted to skewer the bastard. Except that we wanted him badly. We want him to go through the courts. We want him charged with murder and kidnapping and everything else, and we’re hoping to get more of an insight into the operation. It must have taken a lot of courage and willpower to keep the man alive with everything exploding around them both. But he did it. He dragged Khazar out. They were picked up on the shore the day before yesterday.”

  “Why—” She had to moisten her lips, had to try very hard to breathe normally. “Why didn’t you tell me that he was alive right away? Why—why didn’t he come to see me?”

  “He—he didn’t want to get involved with the press. He said he had to have some time alone, and he asked me to understand. Amber, he did everything we asked him to do. We had to respect his wishes.”

  “He—he didn’t even mention me?” she whispered.

  “Yes, he did. He said—” Ted hesitated, staring at the pain in his daughter’s eyes. “He said to tell you that he loved you. And that you should have a good and wonderful life.”

  “That’s all?”

  Ted nodded miserably.

  Amber leaned her head against the window of the plane. For long moments she stared without seeing. Then silent tears started to trickle down her cheeks. She ignored them until her father awkwardly offered her a tissue. He put his arm around her, and she cried on his shoulder until her tears finally dried.

  “Honey, it will pass,” he promised her.

  “No,” she said softly. “No. No, it never will.”

  New York City, New York

  July 3

  He had been sitting in the living room for hours, Toni thought as she entered her apartment. She’d been shopping. She’d managed to find some great steaks down at the corner market, and she wanted to make a really wonderful dinner for him, to see him smile for just a few minutes.

  She wasn’t sure why he had come to see her. Most of the time, when he was like this, he just disappeared. He set out by himself on the water, or he found a mountain somewhere in the world and clambered to the top of it.

  This time was different. He read the papers voraciously.

  Maybe that was it.

  A touch of excitement seized hold of Toni. Maybe it was the woman. She’d read all the accounts of the rescue. Adam had never given an interview, but his name was in every story. He was a hero, but he didn’t like being called one. He had told her bluntly that he’d done what was necessary, and that was that.

  He, too, had read all the accounts, every single thing that appeared. And he didn’t like to read about himself, so it had to be … the woman.

  She must really be something, that daughter of Ted Larkspur. First trying to rescue the senator, then surviving on that island, nearly escaping on her own and all … She must have a great deal of fire. Toni smiled. Yes, she must have something.

  “Adam, I’m home.”

  “Good,” he said. He didn’t mean it. He couldn’t care less whether she was around or not.

  “How about a Scotch?”

  “Fine, thanks.”

  “I’ve got some wonderful steaks.”

  “I’ll take you out for dinner.”

  “No, thanks. I like my dates to notice I’m around.”

  He rose and came striding into the kitchen. His sandy hair was clean and brushed back. He wore a denim shirt and jeans, and his hands were stuffed idly into his back pockets. “Toni, if I’ve been a bore, I’m sorry—”

  “You’re sorry? Adam, why start now?” She laughed. She poured him a nice large Scotch and handed it to him with a wicked grin. “Adam, I think you should get out of here tomorrow.”

  “What?”

  “I know there’s a shuttle flight to Washington at 9:00 a.m. It’s a holiday, so it will be a real bitch to get you on it, but I have a few friends at the airlines.”

  “Toni, what are you—”

  She plunked down her glass and leaned over the counter. “Adam, think about it. You’ve always needed a damn heroine. And they don’t grow on trees. She’s there. I think she means a lot to you, and I think you ought to go and tell her.”

  His jaw locked, his teeth grated, and for a second Toni thought that he was going to hit her. Except that he would never strike her, not in anger. Not ever. He exhaled. Then the tension faded from his face, and he grinned, shyly, awkwardly.

  “Toni, I can’t just walk back into her life. I have to give her time.”

  “You don’t have to give her anything.”

  “She had a fiancé—”

  “So the papers say. But they split up before she ever got on the Alexandria, and I can read between the lines, even if you can’t. Go to her, Adam. Tell her how you feel. Let her know, give her a chance. Give yourself a chance.”

  He stared at her for a moment, then turned without replying.

  “Adam!” she called after him. “Adam, what are you doing now?” she asked in dismay.

  He paused and looked at her. “Packing, Toni. You say there’s a plane at nine?”

  A broad smile slowly curved her lips. “Yes, at nine.”

  “Want to make a reservation?”

  “Yes, yes, I do!” He smiled, and she picked up the phone to call the airline. He started toward her tiny guest room to pack his belongings.

  Washington, D.C.

  July 4

  The capitol was gearing up for the independence celebration. From her father’s town house window, Amber could see floats going by, tying up traffic, bringing the busy city disastrously near to a halt. She smiled, wondering what the founding fathers would think if they were here now.

  There were activities all day long at the White House, and naturally Ted Larkspur was involved. He had wanted Amber to be with him. He had tried to bribe her as if she was still a child, telling her about
the fireworks that were planned. She had begged off, and she thought he’d understood. She didn’t seem to have the energy to do much. She liked the town house; she liked being alone.

  It was still incredible to realize that she was free. And it was incredible to realize that she had been away from Adam for days. She still felt as if a limb had been cut away.

  The phone started to ring. She let it. So many of her friends were calling her, concerned, eager to hear her voice. She would call them all back, but not yet. She had given the press a story. She was done with them, for the moment. She needed this time for herself.

  The machine answered the phone. She heard her father’s voice, asking the caller to leave a message. Then she paused, hearing a voice she didn’t recognize at all. It was a woman’s voice, soft, pretty, breathless.

  “Amber … Miss Larkspur, you don’t know me, and I’m going to try to talk very fast and make sense at the same time. My name is Toni, and I’m Adam’s cousin. Maybe I shouldn’t be calling you, but he’s on his way to see you, and this is none of my business, but he might be feeling awkward—”

  By then Amber had the receiver in her hand. “Toni! This is Amber Larkspur. You said that Adam … How is he?”

  “He’s fine. He—Oh, he’d probably have me boiled in ancient oil if he knew that I was on the phone with you, and it was almost impossible to get this number! I’m rambling—I’m sorry. I just—Oh, gosh, this is really going badly, isn’t it?”

  “No, no, whatever you have to say, thank you for calling me,” Amber said quickly.

  “He’s on his way,” Toni said in a rush.

  “Here?”

  “Yes. I wanted you to know because—because he wants you to be happy, I think. And because I think you should know that—that he really loves you. Before he says anything to you. I just—I just wanted you to know. It’s awfully hard for him. He’s hurt so badly for so long. I don’t know what I’m trying to say to you. Yes, I do. Every hero needs a heroine, that’s all. He took the nine o’clock out. Heavens, it’s already eleven. It took me longer to drive back from the airport and come up with the courage to call you than it will take him to arrive.”

  “He left at nine and it’s eleven now?” Amber said. “Toni, I have to go.” She started to hang up. She drew the receiver to her ear. “Thank you, Toni, thank you.”

  She slammed down the phone. She was in a terry robe, her hair wrapped in a towel. Adam was coming. What should she wear? Her hair, her hair first …

  He loved her. His cousin had said that he loved her, and that he was coming to her.

  She started for her bedroom, She paused with a gasp as the doorbell rang. Him? Already? She raced for the door and stared through the peephole.

  It was Adam. Tall, handsome, in a black and white knit shirt and form-hugging jeans. He shifted awkwardly from one foot to the other. He looked at the bell again, then pressed it.

  She didn’t dare take the time to get dressed. He might disappear again, and she wouldn’t be able to stand that. She would go stark raving mad and spend the rest of her life screaming.

  She threw open the door, the towel on her head beginning to lean precariously. “Adam!”

  He smiled, slowly, awkwardly. It didn’t matter what she had on; she knew that. “Amber. Can I come in?”

  She threw the door wide. He stepped into the entryway, and looked around. It was a nice place, an old home where politicians had been living for over a century. The entryway was marble, and beyond it the carpeting was soft and inviting. The furniture was Colonial and subdued. It was a nice place, warm and quiet, like her father. She loved the place, and as she noticed his light-blue eyes moving quickly around in appraisal, she knew that he liked it, too.

  Then his eyes were on her, and for a long moment they stared at one another. Then, to her horror, Amber felt hot, wet tears rising into her eyes, then gushing from them. “Why?” she whispered. “Why did you leave me?”

  She didn’t know if she stepped toward him or he stepped toward her, or maybe it didn’t matter. She was in his arms, and the unbalanced towel had fallen from her hair. She was muttering things against his chest, sobbing so hard that he couldn’t possibly understand.

  He kissed her lips, kissed the tears away, then swept her into his arms and carried her to the parlor, where he sat on the sofa, cradling her against his chest.

  “Amber, I … I don’t know. Maybe I had a few things to figure out myself. Maybe I wanted to give you a chance to forget me, in case it wasn’t real, in case it was just circumstances. Maybe … maybe I was afraid. I don’t know. But I …” His voice trailed away.

  Amber pushed against his shoulder, sitting up straighter and staring into his eyes. The frost was completely gone from them. She had never seen them more open, more vulnerable. He touched her cheek gently. “I was thinking about a house in the Blue Ridge. Something on a mountain, or maybe in a valley. A small valley. I want a place with land, lots of land. With horses and dogs and some good mouse-catching cats. I was thinking about—about children. A tribe maybe, six or seven. Well, I’d be satisfied with one or two, I guess. That’s all negotiable. I—” He paused, meeting her eyes for the longest time, and then he smiled. He picked up her hand, turned it over and tenderly kissed the palm.

  Then he met her eyes again. “Amber, you gave me more than life. You gave me peace. And, most important of all, you gave me the gift I had never thought could be mine again. Love. Amber, will you marry me?”

  Outside, the first of many explosions took place.

  Maybe it hadn’t been outside. Maybe it had happened right there, inside her heart.

  She leaned forward and kissed him. “Yes.”

  His heart quickened beneath her hand. “I’m probably not easy to live with,” he warned her. “I’ve given it a lot of thought, and I plan to change my citizenship again. It shouldn’t be difficult. Your father owes me. I’ll never turn my back on Israel, but the United States gave me a real home when no other country would. What else? I swear like a truck driver in Russian, but maybe that won’t be so bad.”

  “Unless the children learn to speak Russian,” Amber corrected. “Then you’ll have to tone it down.”

  “Yes.”

  She leaned over and kissed him again. Fireworks were exploding across the city. It was the Fourth of July.

  Ali Abdul had meant to start his executions that day. Instead, he had passed on to the afterlife himself, and Khazar was in a high-security prison. The captives were all safe, and today was truly a celebration of freedom.

  His lips broke away from hers. “Amber, truly, I love you,” he whispered. She smiled, loving the intensity in his eyes, the timbre of his voice, the slight quiver in it.

  The future might well be stormy, she knew. But she knew, too, that he would always love her with passion, with loyalty, with all his heart and his being. To be loved so deeply was worth any tempest in the world.

  “The fireworks are starting already,” she whispered.

  He nodded, his eyes never leaving hers. “Would you like to go see them?”

  She shook her head. “No. I … well … I much prefer the variety that you—that you create.”

  He rose, lifting her high in his arms. “Which way?”

  She smiled, directing him to her room. He paused in the hallway. “Amber, your father …?”

  “He won’t be back until late. And if he did come home, Adam, I really don’t think he would mind.”

  Adam smiled. Maybe Larkspur wouldn’t mind after all. It had seemed all right that night he had seen him in St. Thomas. He was just happy to have Amber alive. The man had been almost humble.

  Then she reached her arms around his neck, pulled his head down to her and kissed his lips, her tongue slipping between his teeth and sensually sliding into his mouth. His breath was quickening, his heart was thundering.…

  Alive. Yes, she made him feel very much alive.

  The door was ahead of them. Her robe was falling open, and the fullness of her breast
was there before his eyes. He had to touch her, had to make love with her, had to find life in the never-ending warmth of her arms.

  He nudged open the bedroom door with his foot, closed it with his back and held her close with one hand while he slid the bolt with the other.

  “Just in case,” he whispered.

  “We’ll make sure he knows your intentions are honorable,” Amber drawled lazily.

  “You’re an awful minx,” he told her, but when he laid her down on the bed and spread open her robe, his breath caught, and then he stretched out beside her and held her close. “No,” he murmured. “A heroine. A beautiful, beautiful heroine.”

  She opened her arms to him with a smile that was both wistful and provocative. “Heroines need their heroes,” she whispered. Her voice was a caress. It touched his flesh with warmth, with passion. It seared his heart and his loins, and he wondered how he had ever managed to stay away from her for so long.

  He kissed her. He listened to the fireworks exploding all around them, and his lips fell to her breast. She was sweet and beautiful, and the clean, perfumed scent of her flesh aroused him even further.

  But he made love to her slowly. He savored every taste and scent and touch. He felt her lips upon him, and the caress of her hands, felt the bounty of her body beneath him.

  She met his eyes. “Fireworks!” she whispered.

  He curled her tight into his arms. “And every day the Fourth of July,” he returned.

  She smiled and rolled above him, her hair falling across his chest. “Shalom, my love,” she whispered. “Welcome. Welcome home.”

  Epilogue

  Alexandria, Virginia

  August 15

  It was a quiet wedding. At least, it had been intended to be quiet.

  But as with many such things, the guest list had gotten a bit out of hand, and there were reporters, and the curious, and somehow all of them managed to attend. The bride was dressed in a beautiful white gown with a long, flowing train and incredible work done in beads and sequins. She was tall and majestic and blond, and she had the appearance of a true princess.