by Nora Roberts
She lifted a brow and met his eyes straight on. “I’ll depend on you to see that everything in it is returned to me.”
“You have my word.” He bowed as she handed it to him. “Now, if you would go with Carmine. She will take you to your cabin. You may like to freshen up after she makes certain no one has planted any electronic devices on you.”
A strip search, Hannah thought resignedly. “No one plants anything on me, Ricardo. But I admire a cautious man.” Hannah crossed the deck to Carmine as though she was going to tea.
Moments later, Ricardo set Hannah’s black alligator bag on a gleaming mahogany desk. “Carmine is seeing to her. She has a small-caliber pistol, her passport and identification and about three thousand francs along with a few cosmetics. There is an envelope, sealed.”
“Thank you, Ricardo.” The voice was deep and smoky with its traces of France. “You may bring her to me in ten minutes. Then we won’t be disturbed.”
“Oui, monsieur.”
“Ricardo, your impressions?”
“Attractive enough, more so than her photograph. And cool, very cool. Her hand was dry and steady.”
“Good.” There was a trace of amusement in the voice now. “Ten minutes, Ricardo.” He picked up the envelope and broke the seal.
A short time later, Hannah adjusted her sweater. She’d found the search more annoying than humiliating. Carmine had taken her stiletto, but she’d expected that. Ricardo had her pistol. For now, she was alone and unarmed in the middle of the sea. She still had her wits.
Hannah stood in the center of the cabin when Ricardo opened the door. “My apologies again for the inconvenience, Lady Hannah.”
“A small annoyance, Ricardo.” He hadn’t brought back her bag, but she said nothing of it. “I hope there won’t be too many more.”
“None at all. If you’d just come with me.”
Hannah followed him, walking easily as the boat swayed in the current. It was the size of a small hotel, she’d noted. And there were escape routes if it became necessary. The carpet they walked on was rich red. In the cabin where she’d been searched had been an antique mirror with beveled glass and a bedspread in velvet. There had also been a porthole big enough for a child, or a slender woman to work their way through.
Ricardo stopped by a glossy oak door and knocked twice. Without waiting for an answer, he turned the knob and gestured her inside. Hannah stepped through and heard the door click shut at her back.
It was opulent, elegant, even fanciful. Eighteenth-century France seemed to come alive. Now the carpet was the deep shimmering blue of kings and the paneled walls were polished to a mirrorlike gleam. Two delicate, glittering chandeliers sprinkled light over the antique wood and plush upholstery. Brocade had been used lavishly to drape over and around a bed fit for a king. All the colors were vivid, almost shocking.
There was a scent of something floral and something old that merged together into one strangely compelling and oddly uneasy fragrance. With the gentle sway of the ship, a collection of crystal animals shuddered with life.
It only took Hannah seconds to absorb this. As grand and extravagant as the room was, the man who sat behind the Louis XVI desk dominated. She didn’t feel the evil she’d expected to. With the truly wicked, Hannah knew you often experienced a chill or a dread. What she saw was a slender and attractive man in his fifties, with steel-gray hair flowing back in a mane from a chiseled, aristocratic face. He wore black. It seemed to accent his almost poetically-pale skin. His eyes were black, too, like a raven’s. They studied her now as his full, rather beautiful mouth curved into a smile.
She’d seen pictures of him, of course. She’d studied every scrap of information that had been gathered on him in the last twenty years. And yet . . . And yet she hadn’t been prepared for the shock of sensuality which seemed to emanate from him.
He was a man women had died for. And now she understood it. He was a man who other men had killed for without question. She understood that, too, as she stood ten feet away and felt the power.
“Lady Hannah.” He rose, slowly, gracefully. His body was trim, almost delicate. His hand, as he offered it to her, was narrow and beautiful with a trio of diamonds on long fingers.
She couldn’t hesitate, though she felt if her hand touched his she would be pulled out of what she knew into something foreign and frightening.
Hannah smiled and stepped forward. “Monsieur Deboque.” She was glad to see his slight surprise at her use of his name. “It’s a pleasure.”
“Please sit. Will you have brandy?”
“Yes, thank you.” She chose a soft high-backed chair that faced the desk. There was music playing through hidden speakers. Chopin. She listened to the notes as Deboque crossed to an enameled cabinet and withdrew a decanter. “Your ship is exquisite, monsieur.” There was a painting behind his desk. One of six she knew had been stolen from a private collection only the year before. She herself had helped execute the theft.
“I appreciate beauty.” He offered the brandy, then instead of going behind the desk again, sat beside her. “To your health, mademoiselle.”
“And yours.” She smiled at him again before she sipped.
“Perhaps you will tell me how you became aware of my name.”
“I make it a habit of knowing who I work for, Monsieur Deboque.” She shook her head as he drew out a cigarette case and offered her one. “I must congratulate you on your security and your staff. Discovering who, shall we say, reigned, was hardly an easy matter.”
He drew in the smoke slowly, as a man who appreciated fine tastes. “Most have found it impossible.”
Her eyes were cool and amused on his. “I find little impossible.”
“Others have found it fatal.” When she only smiled, he let it pass. She was, as Ricardo had said, very cool. “My reports on you are very flattering, Lady Hannah.”
“Of course.”
It was his turn to smile. “I admire confidence.”
“And I.”
“It appears I’m in your debt for smoothing over an exchange with our Mediterranean neighbors a few months ago. I would have been, to say the least, annoyed to have lost that contract.”
“It was my pleasure. It would seem, monsieur, that you have a few weak links in the chain.”
“It would seem,” he murmured. He’d already debated handing Bouffe over to Ricardo for disposal. A pity, Deboque thought. Bouffe had been a loyal and valued employee for over a decade. “You are enjoying your stay in Cordina?”
Her heart drummed lightly but she sipped again. “The palace is quite lovely.” She moved her shoulders as she let her gaze roam around the room. “I, too, appreciate beauty. It helps compensate for the fact that the Bissets are a bit boring.”
“You’re not impressed with the Royal Family, Lady Hannah?”
“I’m not easily impressed. They are certainly very pretty people, but so . . . devoted.” She tinted her voice with derision, lightly. “I prefer devoting myself to something more tangible than honor and duty.”
“And loyalty, Lady Hannah?”
She turned to him again. He was looking deep, trying to see inside, trying to see beyond. “I can be loyal.” She touched her tongue to the rim of her snifter. “As long as it’s profitable.”
It was a chance, she knew. Disloyalty in Deboque’s organization was punishable by death. She waited, outwardly cool while a single line of sweat beaded down her back. He studied her a moment, then threw his lion’s head back and laughed. Hannah felt each individual muscle in her body sing with relief.
“An honest woman. I admire that. Yes, I admire that a great deal more than sworn oaths.” He drew in the rich French smoke then exhaled again. “It would seem to my advantage to continue to make it profitable for someone of your skills and ambitions.”
“I was hoping you’d see it that way. I prefer the executive branch, if you comprehend, Monsieur Deboque, but I’m willing to work my way to it. Delegation, organization, is so much more
rewarding than execution, don’t you think?”
“Indeed, yes.” He studied her again, considering. She appeared to be a mild, well-bred young woman of some means. He preferred a quiet, unassuming outer shell in a woman. He thought briefly of Janet Smithers who he’d used and discarded nearly a decade before. Lady Hannah, he thought, might prove to be a great deal more interesting, and more competent. “You’ve been with us two years now?”
“Yes.”
“And in those two years, you’ve proven yourself to be very useful.” He rose now and retrieved the envelope on his desk. “You brought this to me, I assume?”
“I did.” She swirled her brandy. “Though I found the method with which it was delivered irksome.”
“My apologies. This information is interesting, Lady Hannah, but I fear, incomplete.”
She crossed her legs and relaxed back in the chair. “A woman who writes everything she knows on paper loses her value quickly. What isn’t there, is in here.” She laid a finger against her temple.
“I see.” He admired an employee who knew her own worth, and guarded it. “If we say I’m interested in the security systems of the Royal Palace, the Fine Arts Center, the museum, for the purpose of emulating such systems for my own use, you would be able to fill in the blanks?”
“Of course.”
“And if I asked how you came by such information?”
“This was the purpose of my visit to Cordina.”
“One of them.” Intrigued, he tapped the envelope on his palm. “It was fortunate that you were able to become close to Princess Eve.”
“Fortunate, but not difficult. She was lonely for female companionship. I’m accommodating. I fuss over her daughter, listen to her fears and complaints. By easing some of her workload, I also earn the gratitude of Prince Alexander. He worries that his wife will tire herself while carrying his child.”
“And you are trusted?”
“Implicitly. And why not?” she added. “My family is well respected, my breeding without mark. Prince Armand sees me as a young cousin of his dead wife. Your pardon, monsieur, but aren’t these the reasons you enlisted me to find a place at the palace?”
“Yes, they are.” He sat back. She pleased him, but he was a long way from giving her his full confidence. “I have word that the young prince is interested in you.”
Something inside her froze at that. “Your network of information is admirable.” Hannah glanced at her empty snifter, then tilted it in question. Deboque rose immediately to refill her glass. It was just enough time to regain her composure.
“Bennett is, as I’m sure you’re aware, invariably interested in the female closest at hand.” She gave a low laugh and tried not to hate herself. “He’s really only a boy, and spoiled at that. I’ve found the simplest way to handle him is to act disinterested.”
Deboque nodded slowly. “Then he pursues.”
“Such men are always more—accommodating under those circumstances.”
“I beg your pardon if I seem to be getting too personal, my dear, but how accommodating?”
“He’s a bit bored, a bit reckless. His weakness for women should have its uses. I believe with a certain—flair—information can be drawn out of him. It was he, you see, who took me through the Center, and through the naval base at Le Havre.” She sipped again, lingering over it. Deboque would already know about her tête-à-tête with Bennett at the museum. So, she would use his knowledge and twist the truth.
“It was a simple matter to ask questions and express interest in how the museum guards its treasures. With that, I was shown the setup, alarms, monitors, sensors.” She paused again to let it sink in. “The more a woman pretends ignorance, the more she learns.”
Deboque warmed the brandy in his hands. “Hypothetically, you understand, can the security at the palace be broken?”
At last, she thought, they were homing in. “Hypothetically, any security can be broken. I will say that Reeve MacGee has designed an admirable system, but not an invincible one.”
“Interesting.” He picked up a small china figure of a hawk and began to study it. The room fell into silence long enough for her to be sure he was trying to unnerve her. “And do you have a theory on how this system can be undermined?”
“From inside.” She sipped her brandy again. “It’s always cleaner from the inside.”
“And the Center?”
“Much the same.”
“This play the princess wrote, it opens in a few days. It would be amusing to cause a small disturbance.”
“Of what nature?”
He only smiled. “Oh, I’m just speaking in theory, you understand. It seems to me that the Royal Family would be uncomfortable if something disrupted the evening. I should hate to miss it. You’ll be there?”
“I’m expected.” She needed to push him, push him into something definite. “I prefer knowing which door to walk into, monsieur.”
“Then you might be wise to remain in the audience. I wouldn’t want to lose you now that we’ve become close.”
She acknowledged this, but realizing he would demand the rest of the stats then dismiss her, Hannah changed gears. “As a matter of personal curiosity may I ask why you have such interest in the Royal Family? It intrigues me because I see you much as I see myself, as a person most interested in profit and personal gain.”
“Profit is always desirable.” He set the hawk down. He had hands that might have played a violin or written sonnets. They rarely killed, only gestured for others to do so. “Personal gain can have a multitude of variables, n’est-ce pas?”
“As long as it satisfies,” she agreed. “Using the kidnapping of the Princess Gabriella or the threats on the Bissets as a lever to gain your release from prison was one thing. You’re no longer in prison.” Again she looked with admiration around the room. “I would think you would move on to more profitable waters.”
“All business needs a completion.” She saw emotion for the first time as his fingers tightened around his glass. “All debts require payment. The interest of ten years is dear, very dear. Do you agree?”
“Yes. Revenge, or retribution if you prefer. This I understand is as sweet as diamonds.” And looking at him, she knew he would stop at nothing to collect. “Monsieur, you have arranged for me to be in the palace. I intend to continue to remain there until you alter the order, but I prefer to do so with some direction.” She gestured casually, palm up. “The revenge, after all, is yours, not mine. I’ve never worked well blindfolded.”
“A man who puts all of his cards on the table loses his edge.”
“Agreed. So does a man who doesn’t sharpen his tools and use them where they’re best suited. I’m in, monsieur. Having a map of some sort would be useful.”
He intended to use her, and well. Sitting back again, Deboque steepled his hands. His diamonds shot out violent light. He had failed, twice before he had failed to use the Bissets for his own purposes. He had failed to bring Armand to his knees. Whatever had to be done, whomever had to be used, he wouldn’t fail this time. In Hannah, he thought he’d found the instrument.
“Let me ask you this. If one man wishes to destroy another, what does he do?”
“The simplest is to end his life.”
Deboque smiled, and now Hannah saw the evil. It was coated with class, pampered with elegance, but very real. “I’m not a simple man. Death is so final, and even when it is slow, it’s soon over. To destroy a man, the soul, the heart, requires more than a bullet in the brain.”
He was speaking of Armand, she knew. It wasn’t time to demand he name names and reveal his plan. He would tell her nothing and trust her less. Hannah set down her glass and tried to think as he did. “To truly destroy, you take away what is most valuable.” Her heart began to beat in the back of her throat, clogging a wave of nausea. Still, when she spoke it was with cool admiration. “His children?”
“You are intelligent as well as lovely.” Leaning over he placed his hand on hers. Sh
e felt it from him, the vile, dark movement of death. “To make a man suffer, to destroy his soul, you deprive him of what he loves best and leave him to live with it. His children and grandchildren dead, his country in chaos, a man would have nothing left but misery. And a country without an heir becomes unstable—and profitable—if one is shrewd.”
“All of them,” Hannah murmured. She thought of little Marissa, so pretty and soft, and Dorian with his smudged face and bright grin. Fear for them was suddenly so strong, so vital, she thought it had to show in her eyes. She kept them down, looking at his hand as it lay over hers and the cold, hard glint of the diamonds.
“All of them, monsieur?” When she thought she could trust herself again, she looked back at his face. He was smiling. In the fragile light of the chandeliers he looked wan as a ghost and infinitely more frightening. “Not an easy task, even for someone of your power.”
“Nothing worthwhile is simple, my dear. But as you said, nothing is impossible—particularly when one is trusted and close.”
Her brow lifted. She didn’t shudder or draw away. Business, she told herself. Lady Hannah was all business. She was being offered a job, the most vital one Deboque had to offer.
“You were carefully chosen, Lady Hannah. For more than ten years, I’ve had one dream. I believe you are the instrument to see it to fruition.”
She pursed her lips as if considering while her mind raced ahead. He was giving her a contract, a royal one. As she said nothing, his fingers played lightly over her knuckles. Like a spider, she thought, a handsome and very clever spider.
“Such a responsibility is weighty for someone in my position in your organization.”
“That can be seen to. Bouffe is—retiring,” he said softly. “I will be looking for a replacement.”
She let her hand lie under his as she touched her tongue to her top lip. “A guarantee, monsieur.”
“My word.”
She smiled a little. “Monsieur.”
With a nod of acknowledgment, he rose and pressed a button on his desk. Within seconds Ricardo appeared. “Lady Hannah will be replacing Bouffe. See to the arrangements, Ricardo. Discreetly.”
