Men of Intrgue A Trilogy

by Doreen Owens Malek

  “You enjoyed it, didn’t you? Letting them all out.”

  “I didn’t enjoy the fireworks,” he said ruefully, lifting his injured hand.

  “You must forget what it feels like not to have some sort of injury,” Karen commented.

  “Yeah, and every year I seem to wind up with a few more of them,” he said flatly. “I think I may be getting too old for this business.”

  “How do you mean?”

  “Losing that edge, that sharpness, you know? It’s a funny sort of balance you have to strike. When you’re real young you’re quick and alert but inexperienced and you make mistakes because of that. But by the time you’re old enough to know what’s going on you’re already slowing down. There’s really only a couple of years when you’re at your peak.”

  “Have you reached it?”

  He glanced at her. “Maybe.”

  “What happens to retired mercenaries?” Karen asked lightly, aware that she should tread carefully. “Do they fade away, like old soldiers?”

  “There’s no such thing as a retired mercenary,” Colter replied.

  “Why not?” Karen asked, already knowing the answer.

  “They’re all dead,” he said shortly. “Can we change the subject?” He sat up and got out of bed, striding naked to the window. Karen could see his lithe form partially illuminated by the lanterns on the drive.

  “The guard is gone,” he informed her, referring to the man in the car across the road.

  “Did you know he would be sent to keep an eye on me?” Karen asked.

  He nodded.

  “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  He shrugged. “One more thing for you to worry about. I knew he wouldn’t harm you as long as I fulfilled my part of the bargain.”

  “I think Linda has a crush on him,” Karen said, amused.

  Colter turned, snorting with surprised laughter. “What?”

  “It’s true.”

  “You’re crazy.”

  “She was always talking about inviting him inside for a drink.”

  “Maybe you and your friend aren’t as different as I thought,” he said, rejoining her and stretching out on the bed. “You’re both attracted to that element of danger you sense in guys like me and him.”

  “Oh, you’ve got it all figured out, have you?” Karen asked archly, putting her arms around his neck and throwing her leg across his. “You know exactly what I want?”

  He chuckled, running his hands down the smooth satiny expanse of her back. “I think it’s pretty obvious what you want right now,” he murmured.

  “Then give it to me.”

  And he did.

  * * * *

  An hour later Karen was sleeping in the outsize guest bed while Colter sat in the needlepoint chair, smoking a cigarette. Around him the elaborately decorated room was shrouded in darkness and the canopied bed with its chintz hangings resembled a cocoon, Karen’s slight form wrapped in the covers as if in a chrysalis. He stared up at the cut glass light fixture above his head and wondered what he was doing in this mansion, with this woman who had so changed his life.

  He should have broken it off with Karen while they were still in Ireland. Because he was too gutless then to do what had to be done she had become a hostage in his latest venture, and he had to make sure that scenario was never repeated.

  He inhaled deeply and held the smoke in his lungs, letting it escape slowly. Perhaps it would have been kinder not to return to her, not to raise her hopes. But he had wanted to be with her again more than he’d thought possible and he’d given in to his own weakness, his desire for her warmth, her companionship, her love. But this night was all they could have together; it had to end here. He couldn’t drag her through the wreckage of his life like baggage, couldn’t ask her to share more of the anguish and uncertainty she’d just experienced. It was killing him to let her go but keeping her with him would only cause more pain in the future. For once in his ill spent life he was going to put someone else first no matter what it cost him.

  He started as a door slammed below the windows, and he heard the sound of voices calling farewell. The guests were going home. He listened to the departures as he smoked slowly, wondering how and when he could bring himself to tell Karen goodbye.

  Karen stirred, and her hand automatically searched the space next to her in the bed. She found it empty. She sat up, clutching the sheet to her breasts, and spotted Colter sitting in the chair. Naked to the waist, he was a dim outline in the midnight darkness.

  “What are you doing?” she muttered groggily, waiting for her eyes to adjust to the gloom.

  “Having a smoke,” he said. She watched as he exhaled and then stubbed out the butt in a ceramic ashtray.

  Karen wrapped the sheet around her and struggled out of bed, almost tripping on the tail end of the bedclothes. He laughed softly as he saw her fighting her way toward him.

  “Don’t you think such modesty is a little excessive under the circumstances?” he teased her.

  “Maybe I’m cold,” she retorted.

  “Maybe you’re inhibited,” he replied, and she could see the white flash of his teeth as he smiled.

  “How can you say that to me?” she inquired, sitting at his feet and leaning her head against his jeans clad knee. She yawned and thumbed her hair out of her eyes.

  “Because it’s true. I can’t believe such a prissy little goody two shoes can be such a wildcat in bed.”

  “‘Prissy little goody two shoes’!” she said, pretending to be insulted. “I like that.”

  He bent and put his arms around her. “So do I. I like the fact that no one else knows, that I’m the only one who can turn you into such a greedy creature.” He kissed the back of her bare shoulder and she didn’t see the expression of sadness cloud his handsome features.

  Karen closed her eyes. She listened for a moment and then said, “Is that everybody going home? I think the noise woke me.”

  “Probably,” he said, sitting back. “The front entry is just below us, all the car doors slamming sounded like a fusillade.”

  “Linda told me her grandfather imported Carrara marble for those steps,” Karen said. “They cost seventy-five thousand pounds. In 1928.”

  “I hope I left a lot of mud on them on the way in,” he answered shortly.

  The din below fell off, then ceased completely.

  “I guess the party broke up,” Karen said dreamily.

  “I’m surprised it recovered from my entrance,” he answered.

  “Oh, come on, you enjoyed it,” she said, smiling slightly. “All those stuffy establishment types gathered around with you standing there in the doorway, the collar of that sailor jacket turned up to your chin, like Clark Gable chasing Greer Garson in Adventure.”

  “What’s that, an old movie?”

  “Yup. Gable is a wandering seaman who falls for a proper lady and it really complicates his life.”

  “That does have a familiar ring,” he observed dryly.

  Karen got up and crawled into his lap, letting the sheet fall to the floor. He buried his face against her breasts and swung her up into his arms.

  “Have I been worth it?” she whispered, closing her eyes as he stood.

  He answered her without words, lifting his head to kiss her and carrying her to the bed.

  * * * *

  They were roused from sleep in the morning by loud tapping followed by Linda’s voice caroling, “Cherubs, are you awake in there?”

  Colter rolled his eyes and vaulted out of bed, heading for the adjoining bathroom. Karen waited until the door closed behind him and then called, “Come on in.”

  Linda bustled through the hall door carrying a huge tray. “Here’s your breakfast,” she announced, then her face fell as she glanced around the room.

  “Where’s Colter?” she asked, setting the tray on a bedside stand.

  Karen nodded to the bathroom.

  “Oh, what a disappointment,” Linda mourned. “I was hoping to catch him
in the altogether.”

  Karen giggled.

  “You may well laugh,” Linda sniffed, “since you’ve been enjoying the sight for some time now. There are those of us who aren’t quite so fortunate.”

  “How come Doris didn’t bring the tray?” Karen asked.

  “Doris is a nosy parker and Margaret’s spy,” Linda replied. “I thought I’d better assume the duties myself and keep her out of here.”

  They both heard the shower water begin to run and Linda added, “Sounds like your friend will be occupied for a while. You’d better start on this; it will get cold.” She sat on the edge of the bed and picked up a slice of toast, nibbling delicately.

  “What did Margaret say after we went upstairs last night?” Karen asked her.

  Linda adjusted the sash on her ruffled red satin robe and chewed thoughtfully. “She didn’t say much; I think she was flummoxed.”

  “‘Flummoxed’?” Karen repeated, smiling.

  “Stunned and bewildered. Speechless, almost, which in Margaret’s case was a beautiful thing to see. It won’t last, however. She’ll recover and have quite a bit to say, unless I miss my guess. And where Margaret is concerned, I usually don’t.”

  “I hope we haven’t caused a lot of trouble for you,” Karen said guiltily, reaching for a grapefruit slice and popping it into her mouth.

  “Don’t be silly, darling. It was worth any amount of static from Margaret to see the expression on her face when Colter arrived. Poor Field will never be the same. I don’t know why Margaret thinks that dotty artifact would be able to stop anybody from coming in, much less a hearty specimen like your soldier boy, but that’s my stepmother for you. All the help around here is approximately the age of original sin and she wonders why the place is falling to pot.”

  Karen chuckled. “Yes, I know, you do have it hard.”

  “Don’t start that, Karen—it’s too early in the morning.” She stood and dusted her hands on her robe. “Which reminds me, I’d better get after that sluggardly dressmaker. I have a fitting at ten and I want to confirm the appointment. The last time I showed up there they had confused the time. I had to wait around like Apple Mary while they inserted panels into a gown for some absurdly fat cow who should have been wearing an Arabian tent.”

  Karen laughed. “God help them if they keep you waiting again,” she said in awed tones.

  “I’ve said it all along; you’re no fun.” She cast a longing glance at the closed bathroom door. “But Colter, however...”

  Karen threw a napkin at her. “Get out of here.”

  “One would never guess this was my house,” Linda said imperiously and swept from the room.

  A few minutes after she left Colter emerged from the bathroom, his hair wet and slicked back, a towel wrapped around his hips.

  “Where’s the duchess?” he said, eyeing the breakfast tray with enthusiasm.

  “She has an appointment.”

  “Did you leave anything for me?” he asked, sitting next to her and grabbing a muffin.

  Karen slapped his wrist. “That’s mine; can’t you see there’s a bite out of it? There’s plenty more under that cover.”

  He helped himself and silence reigned for a few minutes as he ate steadily, demolishing everything on the tray. Karen watched him until he realized she was doing so and grinned sheepishly.

  “Gee, I hope you had enough,” she said breathlessly.

  “My last meal was breakfast yesterday on the plane,” he replied.

  “Take my word, you made up for it.”

  He picked up her hand and kissed it. “I’m a growing boy.”

  “If you ate regular meals you wouldn’t get so starved,” Karen said, throwing back the sheet and going to the closet for her robe. “Should we be changing the tape on your hand, by the way? It’s wet. And what about the cut on your head?”

  “The tape will dry—it’s been wet before. And I don’t need the dressing anymore; I took it off. The cut’s healing all right.”

  Karen sighed. She knew that her words were wasted on him. “I’m going to take a shower. Don’t eat the dishes while I’m gone.”

  He waved her on, diving into the plate of fruit. Karen took a long hot shower in the luxuriously appointed guest bath. She washed with glycerine soap pressed into a flower shape and did her hair with an herbal shampoo that smelled like an apothecary shop. She stepped out of the tiled shower stall and wrapped her hair in a thick striped Turkish towel, belting her robe around her. Opening the door to the bedroom released a cloud of steam, and when it cleared she found that Colter was nowhere to be seen.

  There was a note pinned to the pillow of the unmade bed.

  “Be back in an hour. C.”

  He was nothing if not succinct. Karen took off her robe and dressed, annoyed. Why did he keep vanishing like a sorcerer’s apprentice? And why did he wait until she’d left the room to take off, as if she were his truant officer? She had a sinking feeling that something was up and she didn’t like it. As far as she was aware he didn’t know a soul in London, but of course she wasn’t aware of very much where his “other life” was concerned. He must have gone to see someone because Linda’s largesse could have provided anything else that he needed. On a hunch she picked up the house phone and rang Field.

  “Yes, madam?” he said in his theatrical accent.

  “Did Mr. Colter get a call this morning?” she asked the butler.

  “Someone rang for him about ten minutes ago, madam,” Field replied, with just the slightest hint of disapproval in his voice. Karen could understand that Colter was not high on his list of favorites and overlooked it. She was relieved to hear that the call had come while she was in the bathroom. His departure wasn’t premeditated, then.

  “Was it long distance, a...trunk call?” Karen asked, feeling guilty about checking up on Colter but desperate to know what was going on.

  “I couldn’t possibly say, madam.”

  Karen realized she was getting nowhere and hung up. Then she paced for half an hour.

  Colter returned when he’d said he would. He was attired in the same clothes he’d worn the night before with the pea jacket over his arm. One look at his face told her that she was in trouble.

  “Where did you go?” she greeted him tensely.

  He sat down and lit a cigarette, which was always a bad sign. “I had to meet somebody.”

  “In London? Who do you know here?”

  “I have contacts everywhere.”

  “Contacts?” she repeated, her heart dropping into her shoes. “This was about a job?”

  “Yeah.”

  “How did they know where you were?”

  “I left word with Mary Lafferty.”

  “Oh, of course, excuse me. I forgot about your referral service,” Karen said sarcastically.

  He let that pass, tapping ash into the ceramic tray.

  “Well?” she said. “I hope you told them no.”

  He avoided her eyes. “I’m going to Lebanon,” he said flatly.

  “Lebanon,” she whispered, staring. She simply couldn’t believe it.

  He wouldn’t look at her.

  “You’re leaving me again?”

  He didn’t answer.

  “Talk to me, Steven. You’re leaving me today, aren’t you?”

  “Yes.”

  Karen’s breath expelled in a sound that was half sigh, half sob. “Then why did you come back?” she asked, bewildered. “Why did you let me believe we’d be together?”

  “I came back to show you I was okay, so you wouldn’t worry,” he answered quietly.

  “And you think I won’t worry now?” she asked him incredulously.

  He said nothing.

  “You never had any intention of staying with me, did you?” she said softly.

  “Karen, listen to me...” he began.

  “No, you listen to me,” she countered wildly. Her gaze fell on his bandaged hand. “You’re not even waiting until that’s healed,” she said desperately, tr
ying anything.

  “They need me now.”

  “Oh, why don’t you just tell the truth?” she demanded, her anger rising, surmounting the pain. “You can’t wait to get away from me.”

  “That isn’t so,” he said. His voice was low, almost expressionless, the tone he used when he wanted to disguise his true feelings. But she could guess what they were.

  “You have to get on with your life now, don’t you?” she said bitterly.

  He met her with a stony silence.

  “You had your relaxation, right? You came here and used me like one of your prostitute friends, and now it’s time to move on to more important things.”

  He went white beneath his tan, and she regretted the words almost as soon as they left her mouth. For the first time since she’d known him she felt physical fear.

  He picked up a figurine standing on the fireplace mantel and threw it against the wall. The delicate china shattered into a score of fragments. “How dare you say that to me?” he spat between his teeth.

  Karen shrank from him, her eyes wide.

  He grabbed her shoulders and shook her as she tried frantically to wrest herself from his grasp. Finally he let her go, flinging her away. He sagged against the wall, trembling, his head down.

  “Why don’t you just hit me?” Karen asked contemptuously, rubbing her bruised arms. “That’s what you’d like to do, isn’t it?”

  “No,” he responded, defeated. “I could never hurt you.”

  “What do you think you’re doing right now?” she fired back.

  “The right thing,” he answered. “I’m doing the right thing.”

  Karen stared at him. “You are unquestionably the most confused character I have ever met. How can walking out on me, on what we have, be the right thing?”

  “I know what’s best,” he said stonily. “You’re too emotional. I have to make this decision.”

  “You know what’s best?” she said in amazement, almost laughing. “You spend your whole life running headlong into the path of what’s most likely to kill you, and you know what’s best?”

  “I don’t expect you to understand.”

  “Oh, I understand perfectly. You’d be amazed how much I understand. This is goodbye, right? I’m supposed to forget you now.”