“A dress for my lady. Red, I think, and slinky.”
“Certainly. You and your friend just have a seat, and we’ll see what we can do.”
“But, Niko,” Karen argued quietly. “I’m sure I have a dress. I’d prefer that you take me to my house and tell me where to meet you.”
Niko’s look squelched that thought. Karen decided the quickest way to handle the situation was to let him think he’d won. There had to be a back way out of the shop, and the dressing rooms were in the back.
The shop owner took Karen to a dressing room and inquired about her dress size. By the time she’d returned with her selections, Karen had determined that the back door was well locked and bolted on the inside. She wasn’t about to slip out into the alley. The only way out was the way she’d come in, and the only way she was going to get there was by buying a dress.
“This one meets your husband’s suggestions.”
“He isn’t my husband,” Karen said sharply.
“Of course, your—your friend. Allow me to assist you.”
“That’s all right.” Karen didn’t have to remember everything in her past to know that she wasn’t accustomed to dealing with people in a shop like this.
She shrugged away from the woman’s attempt to help her undress and jerked off her clothing down to her Kmart bra and panties. The woman threaded her arms through the dress she was holding and slipped it over Karen’s head. Moments later she was zipped into the shortest garment she’d ever worn.
“Just stand right there and I’ll bring a pair of pumps that will emphasize your long legs. I’ll be right back.”
Karen looked into the mirror and blanched. The only good thing about the dress was that its skirt was flared. Otherwise, she’d look like one of those women prowling the street corners near her boardinghouse.
Boardinghouse. She remembered the seedy house and its location. If she could get away from Niko, she could stop at the library and then retrieve her own clothes.
The shop owner returned with a pair of red, strappy high heels and insisted that Karen put them on.
“I’m sorry, but I can’t wear this,” Karen said. “Bring something else, with a bit more material in it.”
“But this one is the latest thing from Paris. It’s—”
“Indecent! Another dress, or I’m out of here.”
The woman straightened her shoulders and reached outside the dressing room for another dress. It was also red, but it had a high neckline, long sleeves, and a skirt that would reach her ankles. “I’ll take it,” Karen said, removing the shoes and pulling on her own clothes.
“But aren’t you going to show it to your—your friend?”
“No.” She brushed past the surprised woman, down the corridor and through the showroom.
Niko and Sam stood and watched her exit the shop.
“Go after her, Sam,” Niko said. “Get her into the van if you have to throw her over your shoulder.”
“This is the dress she selected, sir. I think she wants to surprise you. But she really needs a fur. Otherwise she’s going to freeze.”
“What do you have here in the shop that would be appropriate?”
“Well, it isn’t the real thing, but it’s the rage right now and it’s warm.”
The shopkeeper pulled an ankle-length fur from the racks and held it out for his approval. “It’s a Borgana, perfect for your lady.”
She was right. The color was a silver white, almost the same color as Karen’s hair. Niko pulled out a credit card and handed it to the shop owner. Outside the shop, Sam was holding on to Karen’s arm. It was obvious that she was arguing, but in the end she got in the van, folded her arms across her chest, and glared straight ahead.
So his princess had a temper. He wondered what had set her off in the dressing room. He’d known she had no interest in attending the party, but she hadn’t given any indication that she would refuse.
Until she’d learned about the fire in his apartment.
Hell, he could understand her concern. If the shoe had been on the other foot, he would have felt responsible for bringing trouble to her door. But it was just an apartment. And the fire had made it obvious that they needed to take action.
Sam took his cue from the dour expression on Niko’s face and didn’t ask questions. “Mac has a friend on Riverside Drive who’s in Europe. He’s arranged for the two of you to stay there for a couple of days.”
“Good. Can you take us there?”
Sam merely nodded. “I assume that at some point I’m going to learn something about what’s going on?”
“You wanted a story. Stick with us and you’re going to be right in the middle of it,” Nick said.
“Good thing I told my editor I wouldn’t be back today.”
“Thanks, Sam. I owe you. There’s one more thing.”
“What?”
“Once you leave us, will you go to Dominic’s and pick up a tux for me? He knows my size. I rent one there often enough.”
Sam nodded. “For the party.”
“For the party. And while you’re at it, get one for yourself. I don’t know what’s going to happen, but, if this works, I think I’d better have another pair of eyes.”
“Isn’t Mac going to be there?”
“So far as I know, Mac never leaves New Mexico.”
“Is something wrong with him?” Sam asked curiously.
“Couldn’t say. I’ve never seen him. He’s just a voice on a phone.”
“A mystery man with this kind of power. Now, that’s a story.”
If looks could start fires, the one Niko gave Sam would have caused instant combustion. “A story you will never tell, Sam Wade. Not unless you want to end the most humanitarian foundation ever conceived. Not unless you want to answer to me, personally.”
The apartment was elegant, old money, old establishment. Karen didn’t know about Niko, but she was out of her element. For just a moment she wished they could go back to the island where she was the princess and Niko was her Gypsy lover.
But that was a fantasy and she’d returned to the real world.
“Nothing like Slade Island, is it?” Niko said quietly as they walked through the foyer and into the living room.
She didn’t answer. It took great effort not to look at him. Was he smiling or was he feeling as awkward as she? She didn’t know about Mac, but she didn’t have to look at Niko to feel his power. The connection between them was still there, under control, but simmering beneath the surface.
“What do you expect to happen tonight?” Karen asked.
“I expect us to go to a party and be so charming that the hospital will raise lots of money for my research program.”
Niko was giving her the obvious answer, not the truth. She’d play along. “And if we do, what will you accomplish?”
“I’ll learn what causes the interference in the brain that keeps otherwise healthy people from remembering who they are.”
“Like me?”
“No, like my father.”
She turned and faced him. “Your father? But I thought …”
He went rigid, and she knew he hadn’t intended to let that slip.
“That he was dead? No, but he might as well be.”
“What happened to him?”
“Funny, isn’t it? There was a time I wished he were dead. I even thought about killing him myself.”
“But you didn’t.” She took a step toward him.
“No. I waited too long. Then fate stepped in and took away his memory. Punishing him then would have defeated my purpose.”
“I’m sorry, Niko.”
“So am I. In the end he lost the control he sacrificed everything to keep. His mind closed him off in a world of fear.”
“So that’s why you’re studying Alzheimer’s disease, to help your father.”
“Help him? No way. I want to punish him for his sins, and I can’t even do that now. He doesn’t know who I am.”
Niko offered to orde
r food sent in, but Karen refused. Instead, she said she wanted to take a long, hot tub bath, followed by an equally long nap. Niko heard the bathwater running, but afterward he could hear her moving about, obviously no more able to relax than he.
It was time he checked in with Mac.
“Mac speaking.”
“Mac, Niko here. We’re at your friend’s apartment. So far, so good. Any news?”
“Just this. I talked with the police chief in Silver Lake yesterday. Seems he got a strange phone call. Someone disguising his voice suggested that he drop the search for the arsonist. Otherwise there might be another fire.”
“And?”
“The chief explained that another fire would be a mistake. He also let the caller know that Karen’s been found and will be coming back to Minnesota.”
“Good.”
“You’re not a police officer, Niko. I hope you know what you’re doing. I don’t want Karen hurt.”
“She won’t be. Sam will be with me. We’ll keep her safe. Mac, don’t worry. Research is research. This time I’m dealing with people instead of cells.”
“And I think you ought to remember that people aren’t predictable or orderly like cells.”
“Sometimes cells aren’t predictable either.”
Sam brought Niko’s clothes and left, promising to hire a car and return at nine o’clock.
Through the closed door, Niko offered Karen a drink. When she didn’t answer, he made one for himself and downed it in one gulp. He started to pour a second, then stopped. Tonight he had to be sharp, in complete control of his mental faculties. He had to protect Karen for one last time.
Once her pursuer revealed himself and she was safe, Niko would go back to his lab and get his life in order again.
At precisely eight-thirty, the door to her bedroom opened and Karen stepped into the room. He turned and felt his gut twist into a knot.
He’d known she was beautiful, but the woman looking at him now was the most elegant, most glamorous woman he’d ever seen. The dress covered every part of her like a second skin. She’d put her silver-blond hair in a braid and twisted it into a figure eight at the base of her neck. She was wearing no jewelry, no flowers, nothing to take the eye away from her quiet elegance.
“My God,” he said in a voice so low that he wasn’t certain she even heard. “You are truly spectacular.”
For a silent moment they simply gazed at each other.
Karen swallowed hard. “I’m ready.” She felt like Joan of Arc daring her persecutor to light the fire.
Her breath caught in her throat as she looked at Niko. There were no moors, no fog, and no heather. The man standing before her was not her laughing Gypsy. He was no driven scientist either. He was a man of mystery, a man steeped in danger, and it took every ounce of her control not to reveal her desire for him.
He was wearing black tuxedo trousers and a crisp white shirt not yet buttoned. She could see the dark hair feathered across his chest. The same chest her fingers had explored so intimately. There was no tie, and he was holding the button studs he’d been about to insert. A red cummerbund the same color as her dress was draped over his shoulder.
“Just a minute,” Niko finally said, and threaded the pearl button through the opening. His fingers were visibly shaking and he immediately dropped the button back.
“Let me,” she managed to say, enjoying for a moment his reaction to her transformation.
When she took a step closer, the split in her skirt parted, exposing one long leg. Niko’s gaze was riveted to her ankle. As his gaze moved upward, she felt her breath rush out, leaving her lungs struggling for air.
What he might have done was halted by the ringing of the doorbell. At first he looked irritated, then he straightened his shoulders in concentration, turned, and moved through the foyer to open the door and admit Sam Wade.
“Are you ready?” he asked, stepping past Niko. “No, I see you’re not. Need some help?”
Sam walked into the living room, caught sight of Karen, and let out a long, disbelieving whistle. “Holy hell!”
“A truer statement was never made,” Niko growled. “Get this shirt fastened and let’s go before I show you how a sinner gets to be one.”
Karen fingered the fake fur coat that seemed so real, she knew she would be a target for the first animal rights advocate she met.
The dress and the coat probably cost more than her entire wardrobe back in Silver Lake. To her students she’d probably look like a famous actress. To her mother she would still be invisible.
Karen sighed, almost glad now that her mother couldn’t see her. “Where are we?” she asked, studying the buildings through the tinted glass of the car windows.
Niko watched the woman who was intrigued by their destination in spite of her attempt to remain disinterested. There was so much about her he didn’t know. But he knew she had courage and that she’d given him something he hadn’t even known he wanted.
Karen Miller had forced Niko to acknowledge his loneliness. She’d opened up that wound and, for a time, filled it with herself.
“Haven’t you ever been to SoHo?” he asked.
“No, I don’t think so. But I’ve read about it. Is this where the artists live?”
She kept piercing his armor, this time with her childlike innocence. He was delighted. “Only the successful ones. Though in some cases a number of them pool their resources to live together.”
“I thought the buildings would be, oh, I don’t know, more dilapidated. Didn’t they use to be factories?”
“They did.” Under the guise of pointing out a special building to her, he leaned over her shoulder, allowing himself to touch her. “Look at that gallery. That’s where Andy Warhol’s paintings were once exhibited.”
“I think I might like to live in a place like this, or maybe even Greenwich Village. I never had time to explore the city like I wanted to.”
Karen didn’t notice that he was touching her until he slid his hand behind her neck. Then she felt his fingers, warm, possessive. For a second she let herself imagine how it would be if they were really going to a party, just a normal date.
But this wasn’t a normal date. This was a trap designed to fill in the piece of her missing memory. Immediately she pushed him away and leaned back, forgoing any further examination of the area.
“So you never had time before. Maybe once things are resolved, you can do what you want.”
“No,” Karen said quietly. “I wish I could, but I don’t think so. Not yet.”
Niko heard the new sense of purpose in her voice. She might not know what was coming, but she was gearing herself up for it. She didn’t need a Gypsy lover any longer.
He wished she did.
Sam spoke up. “I don’t know. Change is good. I always thought that it would be good to swap wives and careers every twenty-five years.”
“Sam, you aren’t married, and I can’t imagine you not being a reporter,” Niko said. “People are what they are even when they try to be something else. Did our press release get out, Sam?”
“You mean does the world and anybody else interested know that you’ll be attending the fund-raiser? I think so. Your friend Mac seems to know how to get things done. Are you going to tell me what you expect to happen?”
“I expect the man who came after Karen to be here.”
“Why?”
“Because he thinks she’s decided to go back and testify against him.”
“And has she?”
It was Karen who answered. “Yes.”
“And we’re going to do what, Niko?” Sam asked.
“Make certain that she can.”
Karen turned her attention to the narrow street. The buildings lining it had quiet, elegant façades with oval windows and wrought iron balconies.
“Suppose he doesn’t show himself?”
“Then we’ll eat raw fish, drink expensive champagne, and raise lots of money.”
“I don’t know about that,�
�� Sam muttered. “Your wealthy patrons sure have strange tastes. A fund-raiser at the Metropolitan Museum I could understand, but here? I don’t know.”
He slowed the car, studying the building numbers in the limited light. “Spooky,” he commented. “Don’t guess you know exactly where we’re going, do you?”
“No, but I’d guess that’s the place up ahead.”
Suddenly there were a number of cars lined up, discharging passengers in front of a dark green canopy edged with tiny blinking lights. Sam eased the Town Car to a stop and waited for his turn to pull up.
Green-jacketed parking attendants swarmed forward, opening the door for Karen and assisting Niko out behind her.
“Shall I park the car and join you inside?” Sam asked.
“No, you come with us.”
The paparazzi gathered on either side of the carpeted walk and focused their cameras on Niko and Karen, blinding Karen with their lights.
“Hey, it’s Nikolai Sandor and—”
“Who’s the lady, doc?”
“Hey, just stop for a minute. I’ll put you on the front page, beautiful.”
“Whistles, cat calls, Sharon Stone wouldn’t have engaged the fantasy of the press any better,” Sam Wade observed. “You sure know how to get attention.”
Unconsciously, Karen pressed closer to Niko, who smiled, slid his arm around her shoulders, and strolled casually toward the door, where he stopped and turned back.
“Thank you. You know how much we depend on the press to help us attract the people who support our medical research. My lady is very involved in seeing that those responsible for an event get the proper credit, aren’t you, Karen?”
“Of course, darling. That’s why we’re here, isn’t it?”
Niko narrowed his eyes for a moment and moved inside. He’d done it, drawn everyone’s attention to Karen’s presence. “Now,” he said under his breath as he flashed a wicked smile to those inside, “we’ve run up the flag, let’s see who salutes.”
ELEVEN
Friday the 13th—three days and holding
Karen was spellbound by the gallery’s interior. The building had apparently once housed a locomotive-manufacturing business. It had been refurbished, leaving the two-story ceiling in the center intact. Converting the circular ramp around the walls into display areas for the paintings and sculpture had been a stroke of genius.
Mac's Angels : Sinner and Saint. a Loveswept Classic Romance (9780345541659) Page 14
