by Karen Woods
“That’s short notice,” Maggie replied quietly. “You don’t even know that I have a current passport.”
“Of course you do,” Guy responded. “You wouldn’t let your passport expire.”
“No, I wouldn’t. But, you shouldn’t have made that assumption, Guy.”
“Margaret, I met you the first time when you were in diapers. I believe that I know how you think, by now,” Guy replied quietly.
“Tell me more,” Maggie demanded.
“Thursday you have meetings with the Italians, Friday with the Swiss, the following Monday with the Germans, Wednesday with the French, and Friday with the Spanish.”
“All right. When do I get a chance to breathe?” Maggie demanded wryly.
“Sometime between Paris and Madrid, I should think. By the way, I intercepted all of the copies of your letter of resignation, besides the one that came to my attention. This matter will simply stay between us. No one else needs to know about it.”
“I want a written contract, Guy,” Maggie replied quietly.
Guy smiled. “Somehow, I thought that you would.” He removed the papers from his suit coat. “Read it over.”
Maggie unfolded the several page document. She read it quickly. Then she asked for a pen. “I’m making some changes here. I want you top initial them. Then I will want the other people present to sign as witnesses.”
“Don’t ever change, Margaret,” Guy said in amusement. “I don’t know what we would do if you suddenly stopped being so cynical.”
Maggie looked at Guy for a brief moment, then began crossing out lines on the contract and writing in the new language on the back of the page. It was a period of only minutes when she handed the contract over to Guy. “Read that, then we’ll talk.”
Guy read the changes, and initialed them without comment. Then he handed the document back to her. “That’s fine, Margaret. I have absolutely no problem with any of the modifications. Sign it, please.”
She read through the document again, then signed it. “I want two photocopies of the agreement: one for my files, and one for my attorney.”
Guy nodded.
Maggie looked at Hank. “May I use the copy machine?”
Hank smiled. “Of course. Help yourself.”
Hunt had read the contract as she was reading it. It seemed like a good agreement. A better one for Maggie with the changes that she had made. But, it had been workable before the modifications. But, now, the contract including provisions for a pair of highly qualified, armed, bodyguards at all times to be protecting Maggie. Faulks would have to provide the guards as part of Maggie’s remuneration. The guards would answer only to Maggie. But Faulks would pay their salaries. She had lowered her salary in a partial offsetting of the expenditure.
“You do know that Matt Stern is not going to be equipped to handle the job that you placed him into,” Maggie replied tightly. “I really don’t understand your logic there.”
“If he can’t handle the responsibilities, he’ll go out the door, very quickly,” Guy replied with a large amount of satisfaction in his voice.
Maggie laughed, a bit tightly. “You rat! You promoted him to his level of incompetence just to be able to get rid of him.”
Guy, looking far younger than his seventy plus years, smiled at her with mischief in his eyes. “No comment.”
Maggie nodded. “I always knew that you were a rat of the first order.”
Guy smiled broadly. “I’m glad that it is of the first order. I do so hate to go second class on anything.”
Then Maggie looked at Hunt. “I’m afraid that this puts a big crimp into this visit. I won’t get to meet your sisters.”
“I understand. Work is very important to you. Eventually, you’ll get a break long enough to come back to meet them,” Hunt said quietly. “If nothing else, you’ll meet them at the wedding,” he added.
“So, you are really going to marry? I was beginning to doubt that you would ever get over Jarod,” Guy said.
Maggie bit her lip as she looked at the table. “An engagement is not a marriage. It is a time to get to know one another a little better. I think that is definitely in order.”
“No one is pushing you,” Hunt said. “Time is not a pressing concern.”
Maggie smiled softly. Of course time wasn’t a pressing concern. Hunt intended to dump her after Michael’s election. “If you will excuse me, I really should change and repack.”
Helen smiled at Maggie. “No. You are going to sit still and eat.”
Hunt looked at her and smiled. “You have to forgive Mother. She would mother love the world, if she could get by with it.”
“Someone needs to mother her,” Helen asserted. “She’s always running. She needs someone to slow her down.”
Hunt laughed quietly. “No,” he disagreed. “What she needs is someone who can keep up with her.”
“I am really getting tired of being spoken about as though I am not present,” Maggie said strongly.
Hunt patted her hand.
“Your plane leaves at six this evening. There’s another that leaves at ten tonight. You could catch that, if you miss the six o’clock flight. I know this has thrown a monkey wrench into your plans,” Guy said quietly.
“A spanner in the works, as the British would say,” Maggie agreed with a smile.
When Maggie had left the dining room, Guy looked at Hunt, said fiercely, “You treat her right, you hear, young man. That girl isn’t as strong as she thinks that she is. She is nowhere near as invulnerable as she believes herself to be. And she’s been hurt once. I don’t want to see her hurt again.”
Hunt smiled at the old man. “I won’t hurt her.”
“See that you don’t.” The old man’s words were a clear threat. And even given the man’s age, Hunt had no doubt that Guy Faulks welded enough power to put forward a good effort at making Hunt’s life miserable. Or, he mentally amended, of trying to make Hunt’s life miserable.
Hunt knocked on the door to Maggie’s room.
“Just a minute,” was her reply.
She opened the door. “Hunt.”
“May I come in, Maggie? We should talk.”
“Come in. Have a seat,” Maggie said uneasily.
Hunt sank into one of the pair of overstuffed armchairs that flanked the fireplace in her room. There was nothing out of place. Her bags were packed and sitting beside her chair. When they were gone, there would be nothing of her in the room.
“What do you want, Hunt?” she asked as she sat down.
“I’m going to be spending some time with my parents. Then I have to go back to work. Attitudes towards women are different in Europe, Maggie.”
Maggie smiled. “Dad was posted to Europe for some time when I was very young. And then Michael sent me to school in Switzerland when I was a teenager. I think that I can handle the cultural differences.”
“Having a rich fiancee will protect you from most of the passes which might otherwise come your way. And the relationship between us will allow you to gracefully turn down the ones which aren’t deterred, without offending the men.”
“You might be right,” she allowed. Then she looked at Hunt. “Of course, it will put a crimp in your social life. Are you sure about this?”
Hunt smiled at her. “I’m sure.”
Maggie just looked at him. “I’m not certain that I will ever be ready to marry,” she warned.
Hunt sighed. “I can understand that.” He reached into the pocket of his pants. “This ring was my grandmother’s. I’ve carried it with me for years without finding anyone whom I could want to give it to.”
“I couldn’t possibly . . . .”
Hunt cut her off. “No one who knows me is going to believe that you and I are engaged if you don’t wear this ring.”
“Why is this important to you?” she asked suspiciously.
“I care about you, Maggie mine.”
She looked at him.
“Wear the ring, Maggie. Who knows, m
aybe you’ll come to care about me as well.”
“I am fond of you,” she admitted quietly.
“God help me, maybe too fond. That’s why it hurts so much to find out that this is all a lie on your part,” she thought, but did not say.
Hunt flipped open the old velvet ring box. The marquis cut diamond sparkled in the light. “That’s enough for now, Maggie. Will you wear this ring?”
“What do you get out of this? Is there a woman whom you want to discourage?”
Hunt sighed. “What a suspicious mind you have, woman! While I can understand how you came to be that way, given what I’ve seen of your very colorful family, I find that suspiciousness highly offensive when it is applied to me.”
“I didn’t even know you until recently. Why shouldn’t I be a bit suspicious of your motives? You’ve come storming into my life, knocking me off balance. I don’t know you well enough not to have to wonder about your motives, do I?”
“Good point,” he allowed tightly as he removed the ring from the box. “But, like I’ve told you, relationships can work without long courtships. My grandmother met my grandfather for the first time when he picked her up at the dock. They had sixty-two happy years together, before they died in a car accident. My grandfather gave her this ring on their fiftieth anniversary.”
“Now, I know that I can’t take the ring. It just has too many emotional connotations for you.”
“Trust comes hard to you, doesn’t it?” he replied tightly.
She expelled a long breath. There was nothing that she could say. He was right. But, she didn’t want to tell him that. And she definitely didn’t want to tell him what she had overheard the previous night.
Hunt rose from the chair and walked the two steps over to her. He took her hand and slid the ring onto her finger. “Wear it. If there ever comes a time that you find someone else, you can give the ring back to me. If I ever find someone else whom I want to give it to, I’ll ask for it to be returned. Until then, someone might as well derive some use from it as opposed to the ring sitting in my pocket.”
Maggie laughed, then she grimaced. “All right. On those conditions, I’ll wear the ring. It is insured, isn’t it?”
“Getting to know you, Margaret Mary O’Shay, is going to be interesting to say the least.”
She stood. Hunt’s arms went around her, pulling her gently against him. His lips met hers. This was a kiss she was ready for, a kiss she needed, a kiss she wanted, a kiss she returned.
“If you didn’t have to go catch a plane, woman . . . .” Hunt growled thickly as he pulled back from her.
Her hand went up to the back of his head and pulled him back to her. “Hunt . . . .”
They didn’t even hear the door open, or Helen come in.
Helen cleared her throat.
Maggie nearly jumped as she pulled away from Hunt.
“Sorry,” Helen said quietly.
“It’s all right,” Hunt assured her.
Maggie was glad that Hunt had spoken, for she wasn’t at all sure that she had a voice.
“That nice Mr. Faulks asked me to find you and send you down,” Helen explained before she left the room.
Maggie nodded and picked up her bags. Hunt took her luggage from her.
“Shh, Maggie. This isn’t goodbye. I’ll be around. Most of my business is in Europe. You are going to be busy, so am I. But, we’ll be seeing each other quite a bit.”
“Take care of yourself.”
Hunt nodded. “You too.”
She pulled her eyes away from his mouth, but not before he understood what she wanted from him.
Hunt smiled at her. “Come on, Maggie mine. You don’t want to miss your plane,” he said regretfully with a negative shake of his head.
“I think that I am going to miss you, Hunt,” she said softly. Now, that, she thought painfully, is the understatement of the year.
He smiled at her. “You’ll probably be too busy to even think about me,” Hunt said.
“Don’t fish for compliments,” she warned quietly. “You touch something in me that I thought was long dead, Hunt. I don’t know what I’m going to do about that. But, don’t think I can ignore it, or forget about it, because I can’t do that any more than I can stop breathing. I just haven’t decided what I am going to do about it.”
“When you choose to be honest, you are devastating,” Hunt said quietly.
She sighed. “That’s who I am. You have to decide whether you can tolerate my bluntness or not.”
Hunt wrapped his arm around her waist. “Come on, I’ll walk you to your car.”
Maggie and Hunt stood beside Guy’s limousine.
“I’ll see you soon,” Hunt said.
“Have a good time with your parents and your brothers and sisters,” Maggie replied.
“I will. You don’t work too hard, now. Give yourself some slack. You still have cracked ribs to consider.”
“Somehow, I don’t think that I am likely to forget that. But, I don’t think that I’ll have any choice in the matter of working hard.”
Hunt laughed dryly. “Probably not. Good luck, safe flying, happy landing, and all that.”
“Goodbye,” she said.
“Just au revoir, Maggie mine. Just au revoir.”
Chapter 7
It was the end of a very long three weeks. Maggie had made the rounds of the various countries in which Faulks Pharmaceuticals would be operating.
Her ribs had mostly healed. The bruises had long since disappeared. The only reminders that she had of the whole instance were: the large diamond she wore on her hand; the daily rose Hunt sent her regardless of where she was; the long letters she had received from Hunt, Hunt’s mother and sisters; and the bodyguards who flanked her wherever she went.
Now, she was working out of the British headquarters in London. There would be more work in getting this venture through than she had anticipated. But, even though she was extremely tired, she was enjoying the work more than she had ever enjoyed anything, except music, in her whole life.
The only real cloud on the horizon was in the fact that Maggie had two armed bodyguards with her at all times. That had taken some doing as she had moved from country to country. But, somehow, the Faulks people had managed to soothe local feathers enough to get permission for armed foreign nationals on to be on their soil. Maggie was certain that the speedy cooperation was due to the joint facts that Michael was a respected Senator running for the Presidency and that one terrorist linked attempt had already been made on her life.
She had become very aware of industrial espionage during the last few weeks, since she had discovered microphones in her telephones in London and Paris. In reaction to that, she had acquired a portable CD player that also contained circuitry to damp remote microphones. It wasn’t a perfect solution. There were many other ways of doing industrial espionage, too many other ways. But it was a simple enough step. She had gotten into the habit of playing this machine whenever she was engaged in conversation in areas which she wasn’t absolutely certain were secure.
It wouldn’t stop someone from picking up vibrations from the window panes. So, she had gotten into the habit of tightly drawing drapes of whatever room she was in. That wouldn’t be enough to completely eliminate any vibrations from the glass. But, it would diminish the strength of the signals. And it did help keep her from being quite so much of a target for a sharpshooter.
She wasn’t at all comfortable with the thought that she was being followed. But, she knew that she was. The only somewhat encouraging note was that whoever was watching her was not a highly skilled professional. If they had been, she would have never spotted them. Yet, that was a double-edged sword. If the people following her weren’t professionals, it would be difficult to predict their behavior. That knowledge frightened her just enough to keep her on her guard. And it was enough to keep the bodyguards vigilant.
Of course, she had other things frightening her as well, for other more subtle, far more internal,
reasons. During the past weeks, she had received three long letters from Hunt, one from each of Hunt’s sisters, Marie, Martie, and Melody, and one from Hunt’s mother, Helen. All of the letters had been warm and welcoming. Each of his sisters told her of different embarrassing episodes from Hunt’s childhood. She couldn’t help but smile as she drew an enchanting mental picture of a young scamp called Hunt. The fact that his sisters were all so obviously fond of him reinforced her own original opinion of his character.
Then, there was the fact that no matter which city she was in, Hunt managed to have a single perfect long stemmed white rose delivered to her, each day. Each rose had been accompanied by a card which had read simply, ‘Thinking of you. Hunt.’ Maggie was uncomfortable with the pressure that he was applying. Yet, she wasn’t certain if the discomfort came because she wanted, or didn’t want, the attention from him. He had promised no pressure, but if this wasn’t pressure— albeit very low key—she didn’t know the meaning of the word.
Christmas Day had come and gone, three days before, without much fanfare. She had gone to Mass on Christmas morning, then come back to her London hotel suite only to hunker down with a mountain of paperwork. Natalie had telephoned her briefly to wish her a Merry Christmas. As had Hunt. During that conversation, she had exchanged greetings with each of Hunt’s parents and siblings. Maggie had even called her brother John to wish him a Happy Christmas, as they said in London, only to have her call answered by his machine. The message was one of those generic, ‘We are not available at the moment. But, if you’ll leave your name and a short message, we’ll get back to you when we are able to do so.’ She suspected that John and Emily had taken off on a short Christmas vacation. John and she had fallen back into their long established pattern of basically ignoring each other while going on with their own lives.
Maggie walked into the lobby of the Meridien Picadilly hotel. Her suite at this hotel cost more money than she wanted to think about. The expenditure of those funds were an exercise in public relations. Staying here said that Faulks was not an easily dismissed organization, that they would be a powerful force to reckon with. Still, in spite of the blatant ostentatiousness of the lodging arrangements, it was a pure pleasure for Maggie to be able to use the sauna. She had started to use the pool occasionally, now that her ribs were almost back to normal. The three restaurants at the hotel certainly were more than merely acceptable. But, for all this luxury, her stay here was only a temporary measure. She would have to stay in hotels during the time that she was in other cities. There was no escaping that fact. Yet, she knew that she needed to have someplace of her own, if for no other reason than to maintain her sanity.
