Midnight Jewels

Home > Romance > Midnight Jewels > Page 12
Midnight Jewels Page 12

by Jayne Ann Krentz


  “I think it was too much of a coincidence that that particular motel was ransacked last night.”

  “Why would someone who was after Valley bother with a car stereo and a few wallets?”

  “Camouflage.”

  “You’ve got a complicated mind,” Mercy said wearily.

  That annoyed him. “Just the opposite. I devote a lot of time and energy to keeping my thinking simple.”

  “Well, take my word for it, it only works when it comes to dealing with women. In that area, I’ll agree you’re very simpleminded. Outside of that you’re devious and complicated and dangerous.” She paused for a second. “And I’m probably even more simpleminded for agreeing to let you come with me to Gladstone’s just so you can satisfy your curiosity.”

  “Mercy—”

  “I suppose I can write off our relationship easily enough. After all, I’m an adult and I’ve had to bite the bullet before. Heck, I once had to write off an entire engagement. Compared to that, a one-night stand should be chicken manure. But, I’m warning you, Croft, this book is another matter entirely. My whole business future is about to take off and if you wreck it by scaring away my first good client, I’ll never forgive you.”

  “It was not a one-night stand and you know it. And you’re not going to write it off that easily.” Croft took a firm grip on his temper. She was deliberately goading him. That knowledge didn’t bother him nearly as much as the fact that she was succeeding in making him struggle to contain his rising temper. He had never met anyone else on the face of the earth who could push him so easily to the edge of his self-control. “Damn it, Mercy, how do you manage to do this to me?” Even as he said the words he remembered it wasn’t the first time he had voiced the complaint.

  She gave him a fulminating glance. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Sure you do, but I suppose you feel you’re justified. Is this your idea of revenge whenever you don’t like the way things are going between us? Do you get some satisfaction out of pushing me and seeing if you can get away with it?” He realized he was genuinely interested in her response. There were times when he was sure he comprehended the pattern of thoughts and emotions that formed the basis for Mercy Pennington’s actions. He felt he understood how her mind worked and knew he understood the important things about her excitingly responsive body. But occasionally Croft acknowledged that there were some areas of Mercy’s mind that remained an absolute mystery.

  “If you don’t like the way I push you around,” she said far too sweetly, “you can always get out and walk back to Denver. As far as I’m concerned we never have to see one another again.”

  Croft was startled. He took his eyes off the road long enough to stare at her for an instant. “That’s impossible now.”

  “I’ll admit it would be a long walk.”

  “I’m not talking about the walk to Denver. Lady, if you think you can get rid of me that easily, you really are simpleminded. You can’t ditch me until I’ve discovered what it is about you that makes it so easy for you to push me to the edge of my self-control.”

  “Is there a danger of pushing you too far, Croft?” Her eyes were wide with brilliant, mocking interest. Mercy turned slightly to regard him more intently. She tucked one foot under her thigh and rested her left arm along the back of the seat. “I’m astonished. You seem to have been totally in control of me and the situation right from the beginning. I was just a puppet on your string, wasn’t I?”

  “Some puppet,” he muttered. “You’re already whipping out a pair of scissors trying to cut your strings. But it won’t work, Mercy. You can’t break the bonds between us that easily.”

  “We’ll see,” she shot back. “Tell me something. Did you ever think of playing fair with me right from the start? You could have walked into my shop on Friday and told me exactly what was going on and why you were interested in Valley.”

  He shook his head once. “No. I considered that approach and discarded it.”

  “Gee, thanks for the vote of confidence. Mind telling me why?”

  He almost winced at the scathing tone of her voice. Then he tried to give her a complete answer. “First of all I had to be sure you weren’t involved as anything more than an innocent bystander.”

  “Good grief! You actually thought that I might be connected with Graves?”

  “There was always the possibility that you were using the ad in the bookseller’s catalog to contact him. As soon as I met you, I rejected that idea.”

  “I suppose I didn’t strike you as smart enough to be involved. I don’t have the cunning mind of the true criminal, is that it? Or was it something about my beautiful eyes that convinced you I was innocent?”

  “It probably was your eyes,” he said reflectively and had the satisfaction of seeing her struggle to decide if he was joking or not.

  “Uh huh. And after you came to the conclusion that I was just a dumb bystander, how did you justify misleading me?”

  “I decided there was no need to alarm you unnecessarily. I wanted to check out my speculations before I got you involved any deeper than you already were. I didn’t want you worrying if there was no need.”

  “In other words, you did it for my own good?” Her tone was oddly neutral.

  Relief spread through Croft. She understood. “That’s right.” He took a deep breath and began to relax. “For your own good. If everything had been on the level with this deal with Gladstone, I wouldn’t ever have had to say anything. We could have had a pleasant trip to Colorado and used the time to get to know each other better, just as you wanted to do. If something did go wrong, I would be there to handle it.”

  “Croft, has anyone ever explained to you that the worst excuse in the world for screwing a woman is to tell her it’s for her own good?”

  Mercy’s hand on the back of the seat was clenched into a tight little fist. Croft saw it out of the corner of his eye and decided he had been wrong. It was much too soon for him to relax. “This conversation is getting us nowhere. Let’s talk about how we’re going to handle Gladstone.”

  “Yes,” Mercy said rashly, “let’s talk about that. It just so happens I have a few ideas on the subject. But let’s find a place to stop for breakfast first. It’s been a busy night. I’m hungry.”

  Twenty minutes later Mercy sat across the table from Croft in a small cafe they had found in a tiny mountain community on the edge of another ski area. She waited patiently while Croft ordered his morning tea with as much care and as many precise directions as possible. The middle-aged waitress, wearing scuffed sneakers and a stained uniform and still half asleep, listened to the instructions with weary patience. Mercy, who had listened to the same relentless list of directions the morning before, empathized with the poor woman.

  “Ι assume you haven’t any loose tea,” Croft said grimly. “And if you did, it would probably be lousy. That means a tea bag. Please put it in the pot first and pour boiling water over it. Ι would prefer that you heated fresh water and make sure it actually boils. It has to boil in order to extract the full flavor from the tea, do you understand? Please don’t use the warm water you keep in that pot on the coffee machine. Boiling water, please. It would be a great help if you rinsed the teapot out first with hot water before adding the tea bag and the boiling water.”

  When the tea arrived a few minutes later, the water in the cup lukewarm, a tea bag slung negligently onto the saucer, he accepted it with stoic resignation.

  Mercy felt her first humorous lift in hours. She sipped her weak coffee and grinned at Croft over the rim of the cup. “Sometimes you have to be adaptable.”

  He didn’t look up as he dunked the tea bag in the lukewarm water and tried to coax some color and flavor out of it. “You mean sometimes one has to compromise. But there are some things that are ruined with compromise. A cup of tea is one of them.”

  “Is that
another aspect of your philosophy?”

  “I guess you could say that.”

  He didn’t seem to want to discuss the matter. Mercy therefore was perversely interested. “What are some of the other things that are ruined with compromise?”

  “Honor, vengeance and love.”

  Mercy’s eyes widened. “I can see you’ve given the subject some thought.”

  “Have you ever compromised on any of those things?”

  He looked up from the pale tea. “I’m not totally inflexible. This isn’t the first time I’ve had to compromise on tea. Does that answer your question?”

  But she would bet he had never compromised on honor or vengeance, Mercy filled in silently. She should let this drop right now, she told herself, but she couldn’t. Not quite. “What about love? Haven’t you ever had to compromise in that department?”

  “Have you ever been in love, Croft? Somehow I can’t see you overwhelmed by such an emotion.”

  “You’re right. I’ve never been in love. I can’t see myself overwhelmed by it, either.”

  “Ah ha. Then you can’t say whether you’d be willing to compromise in that area or not.”

  “Don’t look so triumphant. I find it unpleasant at this hour of the morning to watch you glowing with triumph. Having to drink this lousy tea is bad enough.”

  She ignored the warning. “I’ll accept that your philosophical standards are probably set in granite when it comes to tea, honor and vengeance, but it’s obvious you can’t speak from experience on the subject of love. You shouldn’t make rash statements, Croft.”

  He raised his eyebrows. “It’s possible to have an understanding of the nature of something such as love without having actually experienced it. The obligations, risks and rewards are all quite comprehensible intellectually. And you, lady, are the last person who should be handing out lectures on the danger of making rash statements. You have a reckless streak in you that leaves me breathless. Are you going to eat the rest of that toast?”

  She eyed the two slices of toast that remained on her plate. “No, I don’t think so. Help yourself.”

  “Thanks.” He reached across the table and scooped up the two slices. “Let’s talk about a more critical subject.”

  “The visit to Gladstone?” She would rather have argued about love, Mercy realized. She was certain Croft needed some straightening out on the subject. But it was obvious he wasn’t in the mood for an extended discussion on anything that esoteric. Not at the moment, at any rate. “I don’t see any problem. We behave in a perfectly normal, reasonable, honest manner. We’re not going there to do undercover spy work. At least I’m not. I’m simply there to sell the man a valuable book and get a start in the antiquarian book business.”

  “You don’t believe my theory?”

  “That Gladstone might be a reincarnation of Graves? I think it’s highly unlikely. Would you recognize Graves if you saw him?”

  “The only pictures I ever had of him were long-range photographs. I saw him from a distance the night of the fire. He was running through the flames. It wasn’t the best view, believe me. But I would recognize him if he hasn’t changed a great deal. Unfortunately, in three years a man can do a lot to himself.”

  “Like what?”

  “Gain or lose twenty pounds, grow a beard, undergo plastic surgery. A lot.”

  “I see.” Mercy considered that, her imagination taking off on a new tangent. “Would he recognize you?”

  “No. He’s never seen me.”

  “What about the night of the fire?”

  “If he saw anything at all that night, which I doubt, it was only a shadow,” Croft said unconcernedly.

  “The shadow of a ghost,” Mercy said to herself.

  “Croft, if by some fluke Gladstone really is Graves, what are you going to do?”

  “Nothing while you’re nearby,” he said promptly. “The last thing I want to do is have you involved in that old mess.”

  “You’ll give me your word that you’ll behave yourself while I’m conducting my business with him? You won’t attack the man at the breakfast table or anything?”

  “I’ll try to restrain myself,” he said dryly.

  “Croft, I’m not joking. I want to know what you intend doing while we’re at the Gladstone place.”

  “All I’m going to do is take a quiet look around and try to figure out if there’s any connection between Graves and Gladstone. I just want to answer a few questions.”

  “But what will it take to answer your questions?”

  “One thing I’ll look at is Gladstone’s book collection. Even if he wanted them he couldn’t have many of the same books as Graves had because so much of the first collection was unique. It’s gone forever. But I’ll be able to tell if Gladstone’s area of interest and expertise parallels Graves’s. That will be a very strong clue.”

  “And if a good look at Gladstone’s collection doesn’t answer your questions?”

  “I’ll try to get a look at his private papers. Do some research. Get a feel for the way he’s making his money these days, that kind of thing,” Croft said casually.

  “Oh, my God. Is that all?”

  “That’s all. We’ll leave on schedule. If I’ve confirmed any of my suspicions, I’ll return later, on my own, to pursue them. Relax, Mercy. I won’t carve him up at the dining room table with a dull bread knife.”

  Mercy went pale and choked on her last sip of coffee. She seized the water glass, her eyes tearing. Croft was startled. He got up and moved around the table to whack her lightly between the shoulder blades.

  “Are you okay?”

  She nodded furiously, still unable to speak. Slowly her throat relaxed. She tried another sip of water.

  “That was a joke, Mercy.” Croft sat down again, his eyes concerned. “I would never expose you to violence.”

  “You have a weird sense of humor, Croft,” she gasped. “Kindly remember it’s my future you’re talking about when you make such horrible jokes.”

  “Your future,” he said thoughtfully. “That’s an interesting subject.”

  “I agree. I think about it a lot. But at the moment I have no intention of discussing it with you. Now, about this Gladstone visit. There is just one other point I’d like to settle.” She leaned forward to pin him with narrowed eyes. “We have to decide on the nature of our relationship.”

  “I really don’t like that word. I’ve given it a lot of thought and I’ve decided it’s a useless word.”

  “Relationship? I find it very useful.”

  “Only because you don’t have any problem with a certain amount of vagueness in your life.”

  “I keep telling you, Croft, it’s important to be flexible. I think we’re getting off the main subject here. About our relationship—”

  “What about it?”

  “I’ve been thinking. We can present ourselves to Gladstone as professional acquaintances who also happen to be friends. We’ll let him think you’re also a book dealer and that you accompanied me on this trip purely out of professional curiosity and because you hoped to interest him in buying through you as well as me.”

  “It won’t work.”

  Mercy was offended. “Why not?”

  “First, because business people do not pay calls on their clients accompanied by competitors. Also, if he’s the suspicious type, all he has to do is pick up the phone and find out whether I’ve actually got a bookshop. Once he discovers I don’t, he’ll be very curious.”

  “He’d only go through all that trouble if he’s really Graves or connected to Graves in some fashion.” Mercy chewed on her lower lip, thinking quickly.

  “Not necessarily,” Croft surprised her by saying. “He’s obviously something of an eccentric and he has a valuable collection. He could be perfectly innocent and still be well within his rights checkin
g up on an uninvited guest. I’d do the same thing in his place. No, Mercy, I’m afraid we’re going to have to pose as lovers. You’ll be the rare book expert. I’ll just be along for the ride. I decided to accompany you on this little jaunt because it meant we’d have a vacation together. The Gladstone visit is just a short detour in the midst of a passionate romp in the Colorado mountains.”

  Mercy glared at him. “I don’t like it.”

  “You’re stuck with it unless you can come up with something better and convince me it will work.”

  “How can I convince you of any idea I dream up? You’re bound to be prejudiced against it right from the start.”

  He shook his head firmly. “I’m always willing to be reasonable and logical about strategy. I’m always reasonable and logical about everything.”

  Mercy stabbed a finger at him. “You’re the most unreasonable, illogical man I’ve ever met.”

  “One of these days, Mercy, I’ll have to give you a few lessons on logic and philosophy. You’ve spent too many years operating on instinct and emotion.”

  “If I operated only on instinct and emotion, I wouldn’t have survived running my own business for the past two years,” she tossed back triumphantly. “Are you ready to go? According to the map we should be at Gladstone’s place in another hour or so.”

  His hand shot across the table in the blink of an eye, capturing her wrist and stilling her just as she was about to rise. Croft’s eyes were suddenly very intent. The command in them was almost as powerful as it had been during the night when he had ordered her to let him handle the authorities. Mercy didn’t move.

  “It’s understood that we will pose as lovers while we’re at Gladstone’s? Ι don’t want any surprises from you, Mercy. Not while we’re there. It would be too risky.”

  “You said that if Ι came up with a better idea you’d be open to it,” she replied, feeling very uneasy.

  “You won’t come up with a better idea. I’ve already thought the problem through. A better idea doesn’t exist. I want to be certain that you’re going to act the part of my woman for the next couple of days.”

 

‹ Prev