Without looking at her, he replied. 'Oui, madame la princesse.'
She lifted a hand and, with one finger, traced a line down the side of his face. 'I didn't think I'd seen you before,' she said, barely able to contain her amusement at his embarrassment.
He didn't know how to respond. He'd never met anyone like her before, had never been in such a palatial house, had never smelled such an intoxicating perfume nor seen such a lavish dressing gown.
'I hope you will guard my ring with your life,' Princess Karima said to him, her finger trailing down his uniformed chest.
The nod of his head was barely visible. 'Oui, madame la princesse,' he replied. 'I... we will.' Still, he would not meet her brazen glance, but his face reddened as the bulge in his pants became apparent.
The older man turned from the desk. 'I only require your signature, madame la princesse,' he said, 'and we will take the ring and leave you in peace.'
'Of course,' Princess Karima said. She turned from the young man, deliberately brushing against him, then leaned down and signed the form on the desk. She stubbed out her cigarette in the ashtray, then looked at the older man. 'There you are,' she said to him. She picked up the box. 'And here is the ring. I suppose you should check to make certain that it is there.'
'Oh, no, madame la princesse,' the man said, his obsequious smile still in place. 'That certainly won't be necessary in this case. We'll be going now, and you can rest assured that your ring is in good hands. There are two more armed guards outside, and we're traveling in an armored truck.' He held his hand out for the box.
'Very good,' Princess Karima said. 'One can't be too cautious in Paris these days, can one?'
'Ah, non, madame la princesse,' the older man replied. 'You're absolutely right. Paris can be very dangerous, especially for someone like yourself.'
Princess Karima turned back to the young man. 'Here,' she said, proffering the box in his direction. 'Since you're new, I think you should have the pleasure of taking my ring to Dufour.'
The young man cleared his throat. 'Merci, madame la princesse,' he said, unable to look at her again. 'It would give me the greatest pleasure and honor.'
Princess Karima took one of his large hands in hers and could feel the barely perceptible tremor. She almost laughed aloud as she placed the box in his sweaty palm and closed his big fingers over it, then placed her free hand atop his. 'There,' she said, holding his fist tightly before patting it several times. 'I can trust you, can't I?'
'With your life, madame la princesse,' the older man said.
'And you?' she asked, shaking the younger man's hand. 'You will guard it with your life?'
He nodded. 'Oui, madame la princesse.'
'Ah, very well,' she said gaily. 'Good-bye, gentlemen.' She released her grip on the young man.
The men began backing out of the room toward the hallway as Karima watched them, reveling in their subservience. When they reached the hallway, the older one bowed toward her, and the younger one followed suit. Princess Karima nodded, and they started down the hallway.
When they were gone, Princess Karima finally laughed aloud.
CHAPTER 6
The taxi lurched to a stop in front of the new high-rise building in the East Seventies, and Allegra handed the driver a wad of singles. 'Keep the change,' she said, already swinging the door open and sliding across the slick vinyl seat. The instant her heels hit the pavement, she righted herself and made a dash for the building's entryway.
Normally for an appointment like this, she would have taken great care with grooming and dressing and would have allowed plenty of time to take the trip uptown. This morning, however, it had been a mad race to shower, put on her makeup, and dress, and now she felt thrown together. Last night—close to four a.m.—she'd forgotten to set her alarm after she and Todd had made love, and she didn't wake up until around nine thirty. When she'd dashed out the apartment door, Todd was still fast asleep, snoring away without a care in the world. For a moment, she'd felt like giving him a violent shake to wake him up. But as her gaze lingered on his tousled black hair and his handsome slumbering body, her hard feelings had softened. He looked so adorable, so defenseless, and so . . . sexy.
The smartly uniformed doorman swung the mirrorlike chrome and glass door open, greeting her starchily. 'Good morning, miss. How may I help you?'
'I have an appointment with Mr. Whitehead,' Allegra replied.
'Please see the concierge, miss,' he said, indicating the desk where she would have to be announced before going up to Hilton Whitehead's.
Allegra crossed what seemed like an acre of gleaming black granite before reaching the identically uniformed concierge, who stood behind a high reception desk of highly polished steel and more black granite. A massive bodybuilder with bleached blond hair, he gave her a big smile.
'How may I help you?' he asked.
'Mr. Whitehead,' Allegra replied. 'I have an appointment.'
The concierge nodded, then stared at her with appreciative blue eyes as he phoned the apartment. Allegra, who pretended not to notice his attention, gazed about the ultramodern lobby. It was all glass, steel, and granite, with leather-upholstered couches and chairs in seating areas on thick, plush rugs. Huge floral arrangements, primarily composed of brightly colored tropical flowers in crystal vases, decorated coffee tables and commodes.
'Go right on up,' the concierge said. 'It's a private elevator in the vestibule to your right. The penthouse.'
'Thank you,' she said to the still-staring concierge. She strode to the vestibule and found the appropriate elevator. As she pushed the button, she caught her reflection in the mirrored walls. Well, not too bad, she thought, considering that I got ready in record time. The doors slid open instantly, and she stepped in. Ascending to the sixtieth floor, she began to feel the fluttering of butterflies in her stomach.
Now that the moment had come, she began to wonder anew what Hilton Whitehead could possibly want to see her about unless it was to order a piece of jewelry. It would have to be something very special, she thought. After all, he was one of the country's richest men, and rather than taking a ride downtown, he had seen to it that she came to him. It was the only thing that made sense.
She was just beginning to do a mental inventory of the largest and most precious gemstones she had in stock when the elevator came to a stop and its doors slid open with hardly a sound. She stepped out into a large vestibule in which there was a magnificent commode covered in shagreen. A mirror above it was covered in the same sharkskin and reflected a huge orchid plant with its dozens of ivory blooms. At either end of the vestibule, huge modern paintings hung on walls that appeared to be covered with parchment. Before she got more than a glance at them, one of the tall, ebonized double doors to the right of the commode opened.
'Miss Sheridan?' A tall African-American man with a black patch over one eye stood at attention in the doorway. His hair was snow-white, and he appeared to be at least seventy-five. He was wearing an immaculate black uniform.
'Yes,' Allegra said, holding her hand out to be shaken.
Momentarily nonplussed—obviously few visitors ever offered to shake his hand—the butler took it in his and shook it. 'I'm Boyce, ma'am,' he said. 'I'll take your coat.'
'Thank you, Boyce,' she said, turning to let him help her out of the knee-length black cashmere cape that served as her wintertime coat for uptown business.
'If you'll follow me, please,' he said.
Allegra trailed just behind the elderly gentleman, her eyes feasting on the large circular entrance hall. Its walls were entirely covered in an exotic wood, and the floors were marble. Suspended from the center of the room's high ceiling was a large Calder mobile that hung nearly to the floor, each element in a different bright color. All around the room, the walls were hung with modern paintings in gilt frames. She glimpsed two Picassos, a Leger, a Braque, and two or three others that she couldn't see long enough to identify. Boyce opened one of a pair of double doors, and they turne
d right and went down a hallway. After walking a short distance, Boyce stopped at yet another pair of tall double doors and knocked lightly.
'Come in,' someone called.
It's Sylvie, Allegra thought, hearing the unmistakable French-accented voice.
Boyce opened the door and stepped aside for Allegra to enter. 'Thank you, Boyce,' she said.
He nodded. 'You're welcome, ma'am.'
Sylvie stood up and came around her desk to greet Allegra. 'Bonjour, cherie,' she chirped. 'I'm so glad you could come this morning.' She air- kissed each of Allegra's cheeks.
'Bonjour to you, too,' Allegra replied. 'This is really some place you work at.'
'It is nice, isn't it?' Sylvie said. 'I'll tell Mr. Whitehead you're here.'
Allegra noticed the wall of glass that faced her, and immediately went over to it. 'My God,' she said, looking out at the view. 'It's like being on top of the world up here. You can see for miles.'
'Yes,' Sylvie said. 'Isn't it fabulous? All the way past the tip of Manhattan to Staten Island, and over to Queens and Brooklyn and Long Island. And New Jersey, of course, on the other side.' She sat back down at her desk, where she picked up a telephone.
'Mr. Whitehead,' Allegra, still taking in the view, heard her say. 'Miss Sheridan is here.' After a moment, she said, 'Okay.'
Allegra tore her eyes away from the skyline and sat down in one of the chairs. 'I hope I'm on time,' she said. 'I overslept.'
'Oh, so you and Todd had a bit of a long night, did you?' Sylvie said with a sly smile.
'You might say that,' Allegra replied.
'Good. Anyway, you're precisely on time.' She looked over at Allegra. 'And you look stunning, cherie. No one would ever believe you were up half the night. I adore your necklace. Your design, unmistakably.'
'Thanks, it is,' Allegra said, her fingers going to the necklace and adjusting it slightly. She'd worn a simple black cashmere long-sleeved T-shirt with a matching skirt, but the austere look was offset by the drama provided by the necklace. It was gold, set with hundreds of tiny garnets, that wrapped loosely about her neck and dangled like a long apple peel.
'Did you and Jean-Pierre have a good time? I didn't see you again after we had our talk.'
Sylvie shrugged. 'With Jean-Pierre it's always the same. He's like a bunny, you know? But I get the feeling that I could be an old teddy bear and it wouldn't matter. He just goes at it like a maniac and that's that.'
They both laughed.
'Sensitive type, I see,' Allegra said.
'Ha!' Sylvie snorted derisively. 'He can be amusing at least. And after a day of work, sometimes that is enough.'
'Well, at least you get to work in a beautiful place,' Allegra said, looking around. 'Does Mr. Whitehead work here all the time?'
Sylvie shook her head. 'Oh, no,' she replied. 'This is just a little home office. The company is headquartered in San Jose. He has another office here in New York, but he keeps this one as a place to get things done without any distractions.'
The office door opened, and a handsome man over six feet tall entered. He had brown hair that was just beginning to gray and alert brown eyes. He was tan and lean, fit for a man approaching middle age, and dressed casually in slacks and a sweater. He smiled winningly. 'You must be Allegra,' he said, reaching her chair in a couple of long strides.
'Yes,' she said, as she started to rise. 'I am.'
'Don't get up,' he said, taking her hand in his and shaking it. 'I'm Hilton Whitehead.'
'It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Whitehead,' she said. Somehow he wasn't what she'd expected. Perhaps it was his easy manner that surprised her, added to his casual dress and obvious charm. But then, why shouldn't a billionaire look and act like him? she asked herself. Nowadays, there were a lot of rich men of the Bill Gates ilk, almost never seen dressed up, and less than formal in manner.
'Hilton, please,' he said. He admired her lively eyes and shiny strawberry blond hair, her pale skin and shapely figure. She had a touch of the bohemian artist about her, something indefinable that made her all the more desirable to him.
Allegra nodded. She didn't fail to notice his interest.
He eased down in a chair next to hers and scooted around slightly so he could face her. 'You must be wondering what I wanted to talk to you about.'
'Yes,' Allegra said. 'I have to say that I'm very curious.'
'Well, I apologize for the secrecy,' he said. 'I'm not usually so mysterious, but in this case it seemed like the best way to go about it.'
'Exactly what is 'it'?' Allegra asked.
'It's like this,' he said, looking her in the eye. 'I've always thought that the jewelry pieces Sylvie's bought from you were beautiful. Different from the stuff you usually see in the stores. Even the best ones. They're ... unique. Like the necklace you're wearing right now. It's like art, I guess you'd say.'
'Thank you,' Allegra replied. 'I'll take that as a compliment.'
'You should,' he replied. 'Anyway, Sylvie told me all about how you're a gemologist. Says you really know your stones.'
Allegra nodded. 'I like to think so.'
He looked at her with a serious expression. 'I need someone like you to do a job for me,' he said.
'What kind of job?' Allegra asked.
'There's an auction coming up at Dufour in Paris. One of their Magnificent Jewels auctions.'
'I know,' she said. 'I have the catalogue at home, but I haven't looked at it yet.'
'So you've bought there?' he asked.
'Oh, no,' she said with a laugh. 'I'm afraid it's a little out of my league. I get the catalogues just to look at the jewelry. To see if any of it inspires me. I also like to see the exceptional stones when they come up. Just because they can be so beautiful.'
He nodded thoughtfully, then looked over at Sylvie. 'I think we've found the perfect person,' he said.
Sylvie smiled. 'I know it.'
Hilton took a deep breath and steepled his hands together. 'Allegra, Dufour has an emerald ring coming up for auction, and I want that ring. It is exceptionally beautiful. A huge emerald. But it's the provenance that's really important in this case.'
'That's often true,' Allegra said.
'Well, it is with this ring,' he said, 'because it's Princess Karima who's selling it.'
'Oh, I see,' Allegra said. 'That would automatically make it worth a lot, considering who she is.'
'The point is,' Hilton said, 'I have to have it. It's going to be a surprise for a lady friend of mine.'
Allegra knew it was irrational of her to feel disappointment, but she did. Maybe it was because a ring of such provenance was going to end up as a gift for just another rich woman. But maybe, she told herself, it was actually jealousy because she wasn't going to be the recipient of his largesse.
'The thing is,' he went on, 'if I bid on the ring personally, the price will go through the roof. All they have to do is hear my name, and dealers and fat cats all over the world will start trying to outbid me.' He gazed into her eyes. 'You understand what I'm talking about, of course.'
'Oh, yes,' Allegra said. 'So you're looking for somebody to bid for you,' she said.
'That's right,' he said, 'and I think you're the perfect person.'
'But why not Sylvie?' she asked. She looked over but saw that Sylvie had quietly disappeared from her position behind the desk.
'Sylvie's known in the auction houses,' he said. 'She's bid for me before. Plus, I don't want to send just anybody into that auction.'
'Why's that?'
'I want somebody who really knows stones,' he said. 'I want you to go to the preview and study the ring to make certain you're getting the right one.'
'Don't you trust Dufour to deliver the goods? My God, you're talking about one of the world's most respected auction houses. They're over two hundred years old.'
'I know,' he said. 'I know. But we both know that so-called experts goof up all the time.'
'That's for sure.'
'Anyway, you know your stones, s
o you can make sure that the ring you get is the ring that Princess Karima is selling.'
'Yes,' she said with certainty, 'I'm sure I could do that.'
'Then would you be willing to do this for me?' he asked, looking at her hopefully.
'I... I think so,' she said. 'I have to give it some thought.'
'I'm willing to pay you handsomely,' he said, smiling.
'It's not just a matter of money,' she said. 'There's my business to consider, and quite frankly I'm having a really tough time right now.' She looked him in the eye. 'I'm close to going under,' she admitted, 'so it's not a good time for me to leave.'
'I'm sorry to hear that,' he said. She heard the genuine concern in his voice. 'But this wouldn't take long. You would have my personal jet, to take you to Paris, see the preview, bid the next day, and fly straight back with the ring. What've you got to lose? A couple of days at the most. Plus, an extra paycheck might help you save your business.'
'How much did you have in mind?' she asked.
'I'm willing to pay you twenty-five thousand dollars and expenses,' he said.
Allegra kept her face devoid of expression, though her heart leaped at his figure.
'My Gulfstream V, a suite at the Ritz or wherever you prefer to stay, and all your meals with a credit card I'll give you. You'll have permission to sign on it. What do you say? Fair?' He was staring into her eyes questioningly.
She managed to retain her composure while returning his gaze, but she was performing mental calculations at the same time. The rent. The gem- stone dealer. The gold and silver and platinum dealers. Jason's salary. Also, she had to figure in what Whitehead was going to get out of her services. She knew that he needed her.
'What do you say?' he repeated.
'I can't do it for twenty-five thousand dollars.'
'You can't?'
'I'll need fifty,' she said, her voice unwavering and her eye contact unbroken. 'In advance. I've got to pay some bills, and that'll do it.'
'Fifty thousand dollars for a couple of days' work?' he said with a laugh. 'In advance?'
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