Jeopardy

by Fayrene Preston

  Long after she had finally fallen asleep again, he continued holding her. It seemed to him as if his love should be able to solve anything for Angelica. There was so much of it; it was so strong. But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t seem to help her.

  It wasn’t in him to give up, but he didn’t know what to do next. And he had two new problems.

  She hadn’t told him she loved him. It would be impossible for her to love him as much as he loved her. The thing was, she didn’t love him at all, and knowing that was probably the hardest thing with which he had ever had to deal. But he could handle it, he determined, as long as she stayed with him. Which brought him to his second problem.

  He had said he would go away if she wanted him to. But if that time ever came, he didn’t know how in hell he would be able to make himself do it.

  He could live without her love, but he couldn’t live without her.

  Nine

  With the single-minded determination of worker bees, people moved around the ballroom, carrying out their individual tasks. Armloads of flowers were being carried in and arranged by the florist and his assistants, including the newly hired one. The chairs, music stands, and instruments of the orchestra were being set up on the specially built stage. In one corner, a steel-nerved bartender arranged glasses in a pyramid for a champagne fountain.

  Angelica viewed the commotion from the side of the room, where she sat at a table with Amarillo.

  His eyes were narrowed as he surveyed the ballroom's occupants, subjecting each one to a laserlike inspection.

  Watching him, her lips twisted with amusement. “You’re making everyone extremely nervous, you know.”

  He looked over at her. “Why’s that?”

  "That stare of yours. It’s like an X ray.”

  He shrugged. “It shouldn’t bother anyone unless he or she is guilty of something.”

  “It’s obvious you've never seen that particular expression of yours. It resembles something out of a Clint Eastwood movie—like, ‘do one thing wrong and I’ll drop you right where you stand. ’ ”

  He grinned. “You’re exaggerating.”

  “Not even a little.”

  He reached out and caressed her cheek, a gesture, he realized, that had become a habit with him. “I’m glad to see you in such good spirits today.”

  She nodded, agreeing with him, but at the same time reflecting with sad resignation that her dream of last night was still very much with her, as was the moment when she had opened the closet door and seen her red-violet dress hanging in shreds. But she would fall apart if she allowed herself to dwell on it, and she couldn’t let that happen. A life with Amarillo was worth fighting for, and that was just what she was going to do. “I think my good spirits come from sheer relief that the ball is tonight. I couldn’t have taken one more day of things going wrong. Next year Caitlin gets this chore back. She has the organization of charity events down pat.”

  His hand fell from her cheek to grasp her hand. “You’ve done a great job.”

  She gave a pretend shudder. “Don’t say that. Not yet. You’ll jinx me. ”

  “Not a chance. Everything’s going to be great. You’ll see.”

  “I hope you're right.” “I am, and I have some news that will be the Icing on the cake. Metta is sending one of her sculptures down today by truck. She wants to donate it to be auctioned off tonight.”

  Excited, she clapped her hands together. “Why, that’s great news! Everyone will break their neck bidding.”

  “That’s the idea. And there’s more. Beau has been persuaded to donate a catered dinner for twenty-four.”

  “Persuaded?”

  He shrugged. “It was fairly easy.”

  The twinkle was back in his gold eyes, and she felt her heart turn over. “Have I told you lately that I think you’re wonderful?”

  “No, I don’t think you have.”

  “You’re wonderful. And as a reward, you don’t have to stay with me.”

  He shook his head. “Sounds like a punishment to me.”

  She laughed. “What I mean is, I’m surrounded by people. Nothing’s going to happen to me here.” “Maybe I like being with you.”

  “Uh-huh. Then why aren’t you looking at me instead of giving the workers the third degree?” “I don’t have to look at you to be aware of you. I only have to breathe.”

  Everything about her softened, including her voice. “My, my, Mr. Smith. You do know exactly which buttons to push, don’t you?”

  He leaned toward her, his eyes glittering. “I don’t know as many as I’d like to. Maybe we could go up to your room and I could learn some more.”

  “Oh, here you are. Miss DiFrenza. I’ve been looking for you.”

  Angelica’s head jerked up at the sound of William Breckinridge's voice. He was immaculate and stylish in linen slacks, silk shirt, and a designer tie. “Is there something wrong?” she asked.

  “No, no, but I heard something had happened to you, and I thought I should come make sure you were all right.”

  Her mind went momentarily blank. “What did you hear happened to me?”

  “Not to you exactly, but to the ballgown that you had specially designed to go with the rubies— I heard it was slashed. It’s quite shocking, a real tragedy.”

  As usual, he had managed to rub her the wrong way. “World hunger is a tragedy, Mr. Breckinridge, a ruined dress is a minor inconvenience.”

  To her surprise, he fidgeted uncomfortably. “Yes, of course, I just meant that now you won’t be able to wear the rubies.”

  “Oh, I still plan to wear them. Yesterday I contacted the store and they’ve sent me another gown. As a matter of fact, they’ve sent me two identical gowns, just in case something happens to one.”

  He looked startled. “You mean they found two red-violet gowns to match the jewels?”

  “No, unfortunately that would have been virtually impossible. The gowns they’ve sent me are black. The effect won’t be quite as dramatic, but it will work well enough.” She thought for a moment. "Actually, in some ways black may be even better. The red-violet of the rubies will stand out against the black more than it would have against the other gown.*'

  He clasped his hands tightly together. “Well, I’m glad everything has worked out for you. Uh, is there anything I can do to help you here?”

  “No, everything is under control. You should go enjoy yourself. Have you looked around the grounds, checked out the facilities?”

  “No, no.”

  Her teeth came together in exasperation. “Mr. Breckinridge, you did come in a day early. You should take advantage of the extra time you have and relax.”

  The grip he held on his hands tightened. “Coming in a day early was probably a miscalculation on my part. I thought I would have more duties, but as it turns out I was wrong. However, I'll be glad to pay my night’s room rate instead of charging it to DiFrenza’s."

  She sighed. “For heaven’s sake, don’t worry about the room rate. Have fun.” She checked her watch. It was just after ten in the morning. “Our guests will probably start dressing around six. You have until late afternoon.” She paused. “However, I may check with you sooner. I meant to before now, but I’ve been so busy I forgot about it. Anyway, I’m really dying to see the rubies again. ” She threw Amarillo a quick smile. “And I can’t wait for Amarillo to see them. But, listen, don’t stay in on our account. We’ll come find you when we’re ready.”

  “Well, then, if you’re sure there's nothing I can help with, I'll be going.”

  She waited until he was out of earshot, then turned to Amarillo. “We won’t have to look too hard for him. Hell be in his room.”

  “What do you mean?” he asked, his gaze following William Breckinridge as he left the ballroom.

  She shook her head. “Forget I said anything. That was catty of me. It’s just that of all the DiFrenza employees, he’s the one I like least. He’s such a stuffed shirt.”

  “Tell me something. Has
he ever served as escort for the jewelry before? I mean here to SwanSea.”

  “Sure. He’s done it for the last few years—since Caitlin opened SwanSea as a resort and she and Nico reunited the Deverells and the DiFrenzas.”

  “That’s interesting.”

  “Believe me, there’s nothing interesting about him.”

  “I disagree. I think it’s extremely interesting that he said he misjudged and came in a day early. If he’s done this before, he should know how much of his time is required for the job.” She looked at him. “You know what? You’ve been a detective too long.”

  “But I’m wonderful. You just said so.”

  "I did, didn’t I? I must have forgotten.” She sent him a quick grin. “Oh, there’s Peter. Peter!’’

  The young man hurried over. “Miss DiFrenza, Mr. Smith.”

  She smiled at him and wondered if he knew that Alice, a young woman who worked at the front desk, practically melted every time he looked her way. “Hi, Peter. I just wanted to let you know that I’ll probably be here most of the morning, so if you’d bring any messages here, I’d appreciate it."

  He grinned. ‘‘No problem, Miss DiFrenza. And what about some tea and chocolate bars?” Amarillo held up an admonishing hand. “You can bring her the messages, but all mail and packages go through me, right?”

  Peter’s grin vanished, and his spine straightened, giving the impression he was a young military officer coming to attention before the general. “Yes, sir, Mr. Smith. Just like you said.”

  “Peter,” Angelica said gently. “Tea and chocolate bars would really be great. Thank you for thinking of it.” When the young mem had gone, she turned to Amarillo. “Shame on you. You intimidated poor Peter.”

  “He can bring you all the tea and chocolate bars he wants. But I wanted to make sure he understood about everything else. This guy who’s been bothering you sent you a clear message yesterday when he slashed your ballgown. He doesn’t want you to go to the ball. Now, if I’m right about that, then you’ll hear from him sometime today.”

  The thought sent chills coursing down her spine. Determinedly she put on a bright face. “On the other hand, we could take an optimistic view and say that he’s given up and gone away.”

  In the face of her resolute bravery, his expression gentled. “You take the optimistic view, I’ll do the worrying. That’s my job.”

  “Oh, your job,’’ she said with a teasing lilt to her voice. “Am I paying you?”

  In a surprise move he leaned over and kissed her. “One smile pays any and all debts to me.”

  A sweet warmth flooded her. “Weren’t we just talking about buttons?”

  “Yes, we were,” he murmured close to her ear. "That and seeing what we could do about finding more. Upstairs, in your room.”

  She groaned. "I’d love to, but the ball—”

  He pulled away. “Ill be so glad when this damned ball is over.”

  She gave a rueful chuckle. “No more than I will be. But listen, there’s no reason why we should both suffer. You don’t need to stay here with me. Like I said, I’m surrounded by people, and you’ve already subjected them to your X-ray vision. ”

  He grinned. “I’ll stay awhile, but later I may go for a ride.” Without telling Angelica, the day before he had sent for five of his best men. Two of them were in the ballroom now. Three others were stationed in various spots in and around SwanSea. “My horses are getting jealous. Normally when I’m here, they have my whole attention.” He shook his head solemnly. ‘They're sensing there’s someone else.”

  She burst out with a loud laugh. “That’s just great! For years I had to watch you with one glamorous woman after another, and now I’m in competition with horses."

  He leaned toward her again. “Honey, you have no competition.”

  Later that afternoon Angelica decided that everything was as ready as she could make it. If something wasn’t done by now, it simply didn’t matter. She felt a flush of accomplishment, because despite the dreams, despite the harassment, she had managed to carry on and oversee what had every indication of being a successful charity event. She felt good about the upcoming ball and herself.

  In a fairly upbeat mood, she went to find Amarillo. When she was told he was riding, she strolled out onto a side veranda. In the distance she saw him astride a golden palomino.

  She perched on the balustrade and watched him. They were beautiful, she thought, the man and his horse, both golden, both strong and moving in perfect rhythm along the bluff that overlooked the ocean. Her heart swelled. He made her so happy, and she loved him more than she had ever thought it possible to love anyone. They had to have a chance for happiness. She had to beat the specter of the dreams. She just wished she knew how.

  “Miss DiFrenza?”

  She glanced around to see Peter, bearing several messages and a package.

  “Hi, Peter.” She automatically took the messages from him and glanced through them. She was relieved to see that most of the messages were invitations for drinks before the dinner tonight instead of people calling about problems. She finished shuffling through the messages and pointed to the taped box he held. “What's that?”

  “It’s for you, but Mr. Smith told me all packages are to go to him first.”

  “That’s right. Well, as you can see for yourself, he’s riding.” She pointed toward the bluff. “Why don’t you leave the package with me and I'll give it to him when he comes in. You can set it down here.” She patted the balustrade in front of her.

  “I guess that would be all right.”

  “Sure.” She smiled at him. “And, Peter, thanks for being so much help to me these last few days.”

  He broke into a wide, beaming grin. ‘It was my pleasure, Miss DiFrenza.”

  “You know, there's a young woman at the front desk, I think her name is Alice. Do you know her?”

  “I know her, but not real well. Why?”

  “Oh, no reason. I just think she’s really pretty, that’s all.”

  “You do?”

  “Uh-huh. Thanks again, Peter.”

  “Oh, no problem.”

  She turned around and saw that Amarillo was looking in her direction. She waved. He waved back and reined his horse toward the house.

  Smiling happily, watching him come toward her, she idly reached for the box and plucked at the tape with her fingernail until she could grip it and peel it off. She was folding back the flaps just as Amarillo dismounted at the base of the terrace.

  He vaulted over the balustrade. “What are you doing?”

  “N-nothing,” she said, surprised at his furious expression.

  “God, it’s ticking!” He grabbed the box away from her, but not before she had glanced into it and seen its contents.

  “It’s a clock, Amarillo.” She tried to grab it back, but he held the box tight, staring hard at the clock, and she leaned forward so she could see too. It was a small crystal and mother-of-pearl clock, the type a woman would keep on her dresser. “Why, It’s lovely! I wonder who would have sent me a clock.”

  “There wasn’t a card?”

  "No. Here, let me have it.”

  She reached out for the box, but Amarillo didn’t release it, and he couldn’t tear his gaze from the clock. He felt as if he were encased in ice, completely immobilized, but his mind was working at the speed of light.

  The clock was lovely; its mother-of-pearl face and gold hands gleamed in the afternoon sunlight. The second hand ticked off the seconds. One . . . two . . . three . . .

  Amarillo straightened and threw the box as far out over the grounds as he could, then he grabbed Angelica and pulled her to the floor of the veranda behind the balustrade.

  The shock and fall took her breath away. “What—?” He wrapped his arms around her and held her tight against him.

  The explosion was loud and the percussion stunning. Tiny bits of the clock landed on the veranda with a clatter, along with clumps of grass.

  The explosion. Angelic
a put her hands over her .ears. She heard another explosion in her head. Where was it coming from? Was it another bomb? No, it was part of the dream.

  No! It couldn’t be.

  She was awake, she was definitely awake. She refused to let herself go off the deep end now, not when she had so much to remain sane for. She heard Amarillo speak to her.

  “Are you all right?”

  His tone was low and throbbing. “I guess so." She laughed shakily. “How did you know?”

  He stood and drew her to her feet. “Instinct more than anything else.” He glanced toward the black hole the bomb had made in the green grass, then back to her. “My guess is it was plastique with a photosensitive device set to go off after ten to twelve seconds of exposure to light. I'll know more after I study it.”

  “Thank heaven for your instincts. I don't even know why I opened the package. I didn’t intend to. I was going to wait until you got through riding and give it to you. And then I was watching you and . ."

  His eyes darkened with anger as he gazed at her and realized she had nearly been killed. Her face was deathly white, and it was clear only her will was keeping her from crumbling. He pulled her into his arms and hugged her tight. “If anything had happened to you—” The rest of the words knotted in his throat.

  He wanted to keep on holding her, shielding her with his body, protecting her from anything that might hurt her. But out of the corner of his eye he noticed people had begun to come out of the house. They were talking excitedly and pointing toward the explosion site. He loosened his hold on Angelica and turned to the people. “There’s nothing to worry about, folks. I was playing with some fireworks, thinking we might have a few tonight, but one got away from me, that’s all. Nothing to worry about. Now that I’ve had time to consider, I don't think fireworks for tonight is a real good idea.”

  The people in the crowd laughed and repeated what he had said to others who were coming out on the veranda. They milled around, then slowly began dispersing.