Books by Nora Roberts

by Roberts, Nora

  "How we suffer for our work."

  "Very funny. Since you spent the morning hitting a little white ball around."

  "I don't suppose I mentioned that I detest golf."

  "No." She grinned. "Good. Tell me how it went."

  "We ran into each other on the fourth tee. Quite by accident, of course."

  "Of course."

  "So we ended up playing the rest of the course together." Sebastian picked up her half-finished drink and sipped. "He finds my wife quite charming."

  "Naturally."

  "We discussed business, his and mine. He's interested in making some investments, so I made a few real estate suggestions."

  "Clever."

  "I do have some property in Oregon I've been thinking about selling. Anyway, we had a drink afterward and discussed sports and other manly things. I managed to drop into the conversation the fact that I hoped to have a son."

  "Not just a kid?"

  "As I said, it was a manly sort of event. A son to carry on the name, to play ball with, slipped more seamlessly into the conversation."

  "Girls play ball," she muttered. "Never mind. Did he pick up on it?"

  "Only quite delicately. I fumbled a bit, looked distressed, and changed the subject."

  "Why?" She straightened in her chair. "If you had him on the line, why'd you cut him loose?"

  "Because it felt right. You'll have to trust me on this, Mel. Gumm would have been suspicious if I'd taken him into my confidence so quickly. With you and the woman it's different. More natural."

  She mulled it over, and, though she was still frowning, nodded. "All right. I'm inclined to agree. And we've certainly laid the groundwork."

  "I spoke with Devereaux just before you got in. They should have a full work-up on Linda Glass by tomorrow, and he'll let us know as soon as Gumm makes a move to check out our story."

  "Good enough."

  "Also, we're invited to dine with Gumm and his lady on Friday evening."

  Mel cocked a brow. "Even better." She leaned forward to kiss him. "You did good work, Donovan."

  "I suppose we make a fair team. Have you finished eating?"

  "For now."

  "Then I think we should prepare for Friday night."

  "Prepare what?" She shot him a suspicious look as he pulled her to her feet. "If you're going to start fiddling around with what I'm supposed to wear-"

  "Not at all. It's this way," he told her as they walked out of the kitchen. "We're going to be a devoted and deliriously happy married couple."

  "Yeah, so?"

  "Madly in love," he continued, drawing her toward the stairs.

  "I know the drill, Donovan."

  "Well, I firmly believe in the Method school of acting. So I'm quite sure it will help our performance if we spend as much time as possible making love."

  "Oh, I see." She turned, twining her arms around his neck and backing into the bedroom. "Well, like you said, we have to suffer for our work."

  Mel was certain that one day she would look back and laugh. Or at least she would look back with the grim satisfaction of having survived.

  Since going into law enforcement she had been kicked, cursed, slugged and insulted, had doors slammed in her face and on her foot. She'd been threatened, propositioned and, on one memorable occasion, she'd been shot at.

  All of that was nothing compared to what was being done to her in the Silver Woman.

  The hotel's exclusive and expansive beauty salon offered everything from a wash and set to something exotically-and terrifyingly-termed body wrapping.

  Mel hadn't had the courage for that one, but she was getting the treatment from head to toe-and every inch between.

  She arrived moments before Linda and, falling back on her established persona, greeted the woman like an old friend.

  During leg waxing-which, Mel discovered quickly enough, did hurt-they discussed clothes and hairstyles. Smiling through gritted teeth, Mel was glad she'd boned up for hours the night before with fashion magazines.

  Later, while whatever pungent glop the beautician smeared on her face hardened, Mel chatted about how much she was enjoying living in Tahoe.

  "Our view of the lake is incredible. I really can't wait until we get to know more people. I love to entertain."

  "Jasper and I can introduce you around," Linda offered as the pedicurist buffed her toenails. "Being in the hotel business, we know just about everyone you'd want to know."

  "That would be marvelous." Mel chanced a look down and tried to look pleased, rather than horrified, that her toenails were being painted fuchsia. "Donovan mentioned to me that he met Jasper on the golf course at the club. Donovan just loves playing golf," she said, hoping it trapped him into spending hours on the green. "It's more a passion than a hobby."

  "Jasper's the same way. I can't work up an interest in it myself." She began to chat about different people she wanted Mel to meet, and about how they might get together for tennis or sailing.

  Mel agreed animatedly, wondering if a person could actually die of boredom.

  Her face was scrubbed clean, and cream was slathered on. Some sort of oil was squirted all over her hair, and then plastic was wrapped around it.

  "I just love being pampered this way," Linda murmured. They were both lying back in soft chairs, having their hands massaged and their nails done.

  "Me too," Mel said, and prayed they were nearly finished.

  "I suppose that's why this job suits me. Most of the time I work nights, so my days are free. And I can make use of all the hotel's benefits."

  "Have you worked here long?"

  "Almost two years now." She sighed. "It's never dull."

  "I imagine you meet all sorts of fascinating people."

  "The high-powered sort. That's what I like. From what you were saying the other day, your husband doesn't sound like small change."

  Mel would have grinned, but she settled for an indulgent smile. "Oh, he does very well. You could say that Donovan has the magic touch."

  They were rinsed, their scalps were massaged-Mel actually found it quite enjoyable-and it was nearly time for the finishing touches. She realized that if Linda didn't probe soon she would have to find an opening to bring up the subject herself.

  "You know, Mary Ellen, I was thinking about what you told me the other day."

  "Oh." Mel feigned discomfort. "I'm so sorry about that, Linda, dumping on you that way, and so soon after we'd met. I guess I was feeling a little lost and homesick."

  "Nonsense." Linda waved her glorious nails. "I think we just hit it off, that's all. You were comfortable with me."

  "Yes, I was. But I'm more than a little embarrassed to think that I bored you with all that business about my personal life."

  "I wasn't bored at all. I was touched." Her voice was smooth as silk, with just the right touch of sympathy. Mel felt her hackles rising. "And it made me think. Please tell me if I'm getting too personal. But have you ever considered private adoption?"

  "You mean going through a lawyer who works with unwed mothers?" Mel gave a long, wistful sigh. "Actually, we did try that route once, about a year ago. We weren't quite sure it was right. It wasn't that the money was a problem, but we were concerned about the legality, and the morality. But it all seemed perfect. We even went so far as to have an interview with the mother. Our hopes were very high. Too high. We picked our names, and window-shopped for baby things. It really looked as if it was going to happen. At the last minute, she backed out."

  Mel bit her lower lip, as if to steady herself.

  "That must have been dreadful for you."

  "We both took it very hard. To get that close and then- nothing. We haven't discussed trying that way again since."

  "I can understand that. But, as it happens, I do know of someone who's had a great deal of luck placing babies with adoptive parents."

  Mel closed her eyes. She was afraid they would fill with derision, not hope. "A lawyer?"

  "Yes. I don't know him per
sonally, but, as I said, you meet a lot of people in this business, and I've heard. I don't want to promise, or get your hopes up, but if you'd like I could check."

  "I'd be very grateful." Mel opened her eyes and met Linda's in the mirror. "I can't tell you how grateful."

  An hour later, Mel swung out of the hotel and into Sebastian's arms. She laughed as he dipped her back for an exaggerated kiss.

  "What are you doing here?"

  "Playing the dutiful, lovesick husband come to fetch his wife." He held her at arm's length and smiled. Her hair was fluffed into a sexy, windblown look, her eyes were deepened and enlarged with blending shadows, and her lips were the same slick fuchsia as her nails. "In the name of Finn, Sutherland, what have they done to you?"

  "Don't smirk."

  "I'm not. You look extraordinary. Stunning. Just not quite like my Mel." He tipped her chin up for another kiss. "Who is this elegant, polished woman I'm holding?"

  Not as annoyed as she wanted to be, she pulled a face. "You'd better not make fun after what I've been through. I actually had a bikini wax. It was barbaric." Chuckling, she linked her hands around his neck. "And my toenails are pink."

  "I can't wait to see." He kissed her again, lightly. "I have news."

  "Me too."

  "Why don't I take a walk with my gorgeous wife and tell her how Gumm's been putting out feelers on the estimable Ryans of Seattle?"

  "All right." She linked her fingers with his. "And I'll tell you how, out of the goodness of her heart, Linda Glass is going to help us make contact with a lawyer. About a private adoption."

  "We do work well together."

  "Yes, we do, Donovan." Pleased with herself, she strolled beside him. "We certainly do."

  From the presidential suite on the top floor of the Silver Palace, Gumm watched through the window. "A charming couple," he commented to Linda.

  "They're certainly loopy for each other." She sipped champagne as Sebastian and Mel walked off hand in hand. "The way she looks when she says his name almost makes me wonder if they're really married."

  "I've had copies of the marriage certificate and other papers faxed in. It all seems in order." He tapped his fingers to his lips. "If they were a plant, I can't imagine they'd be so easily intimate."

  "Plant?" Linda gave him a worried look. "Come on, Jasper, why would you even consider it? There's no way back to us."

  "The business with the Frosts concerns me."

  "Well, it's too bad they lost the kid. But we got our fee, and we didn't leave a trail."

  "We left Parkland. I haven't been able to locate him."

  "So he dropped off the edge of the world." Linda shrugged and moved over to press her body to Gumm's. "You've got nothing to worry about there. You held his note, and it was legit."

  "He saw you."

  "He wasn't seeing much of anything, as panicked as he was. Plus, it was dark, and I was wearing a scarf. Parkland doesn't worry me." She touched her lips to his. "We've got the touch, babe. Being in an organization like this, we've got so many covers and trapdoors, they'll never come close to us. And the money-" She loosened his tie. "Just think how that money keeps pouring in."

  "You do like the money, don't you?" He tugged down the zipper of her dress. "We've got that in common."

  "We've got lots in common. This could be a big one for us.

  We pass the Ryans along, there will be a nice fat commission in it. I guarantee they'll pay the maximum for a kid. The woman's desperate to be a mommy."

  "I'll do a little more checking." Still calculating, he sank with her onto the couch.

  "No harm in that, but I'm telling you, Jasper, these two are primed. No way we can lose. No way."

  Mel and Sebastian became a convivial foursome with Gumm and Linda. They dined out, enjoyed the casino, lunched at the club and indulged in rousing doubles matches at tennis.

  Ten days of the high life was making Mel edgy. Several times she ventured to ask Linda about the lawyer she had spoken of and was told, kindly, to be patient.

  They were introduced to dozens of people. Some of them Mel found interesting and attractive, others slick and suspicious. She spent her days following the routine of a well-to-do woman with time and money on her hands.

  And her nights with Sebastian.

  She tried not to concern herself with her heart. She had a job to do, and if she'd fallen in love doing it, that was her problem to solve.

  She knew he cared for her, just as she knew he desired her. It was a worry that he seemed so fond of the woman she pretended to be-a woman she would cease to be as soon as the job was over.

  Not quite like my Mel. My Mel, he had said. There was hope in that, and she wasn't above clinging to it.

  And as much as she wished the case were closed and justice served, she began to dread the day when they would go home, no longer married by design.

  Whatever her personal needs and private hopes, she couldn't allow herself to put them ahead of what they were trying to do.

  Following a suggestion of Linda's, Mel agreed to give a party. After all, she was supposed to be an enthusiastic entertainer, a whiz of a homemaker and a society gem.

  As she struggled into her little black dress, she prayed she wouldn't make some telltale faux pas that showed her up as a phony.

  "Damnation," she swore as Sebastian strolled into the bedroom.

  "Problem, darling?"

  "Zipper's stuck." She was half in and half out of the dress, flushed, harried and mad as a cat. He was sorely tempted to help her the rest of the way out of it, rather than in.

  He gave the zipper a flick that sent it up to its home, halfway up her back. "All done. You're wearing the tourmaline," he said, reaching over her shoulder to touch the stone between her breasts.

  "Morgana said it was good for stress. I need all the help I can get." Turning, she slipped regretfully into the heels, which brought them eye-to-eye. "It's stupid, but I'm really nervous. The only kind of parties I've ever given involved pizza and beer. Did you see all that stuff downstairs?''

  "Yes, and I also saw the caterers who will take care of it."

  "But I'm, like, the hostess. I'm supposed to know what to do."

  "No, you're supposed to tell other people what to do, then take all the credit."

  She smiled a little. "That's not so bad. It's just that something's got to happen soon. I'll go out of my mind if it doesn't. Linda keeps making cryptic remarks about being able to help, but I feel like I've been spinning wheels for the last week."

  "Patience. We take the next step tonight."

  "What do you mean?" She caught at his sleeve. "We said no holding back. If you know something, have seen something, tell me."

  "It doesn't always work like a perfect mirror of events. I know the person we're looking for will be here tonight, and I'll recognize who it is. We've played the game well so far, Mel. And we'll play it out."

  "All right." She took a deep breath. "What do you say, honey bun? Shall we go down and get ready to greet our guests?"

  He winced. "Don't call me honey bun."

  "Shoot, and I thought I was getting the hang of it." She started down, then stopped with a hand pressed to her stomach. "Oh, Lord, there's the bell. Here we go."

  It wasn't really so bad, Mel discovered as the party flowed through the house and onto the deck. Everyone seemed to be having a dandy old time. There was some nice classical music-of Sebastian's choosing-playing in the background. The night was balmy enough that they could leave the doors wide and allow the guests to roam in and out. The food, if she did say so herself, was excellent. And, if she didn't recognize half of the canap‚s, it hardly mattered. She accepted the compliments graciously.

  There was wine and laughter and interesting conversation. Which she supposed made for a pretty good party. And it was nice to watch Sebastian move through the room, to look over and see him smile at her, or to have him stop beside her for a touch or a private word.

  Anyone looking at us would buy it, she t
hought. We're the world's happiest couple, madly in love with each other.

  She could almost buy it herself, when his gaze moved in her direction and his eyes warmed, sending those secret signals up her spine.

  Linda glided up, looking drop-dead gorgeous in a white off-the-shoulder gown. "I swear, the man can't keep his eyes off you. If I could find his twin, I might give marriage another shot after all."

  "There's no one else like him," Mel said, sincerely enough. "Believe me, Donovan's one of a kind."

  "And he's all yours."

  "Yes. All mine."

  "Well, besides being lucky in love, you throw a wonderful party. Your house is beautiful." And, Linda calculated, worth a good half a million on the market.

  "Thank you, but I really owe you for recommending the caterer. He's a jewel."

  "Anything I can do." She squeezed Mel's hand and gave her a long look. "I mean that."

  Mel was quick. "Do you- have you- Oh, I don't mean to nag, but I haven't been able to think about anything else for days."

  "No promises," she said, but then she winked. "There is someone I'd like you to meet. You did say I could invite some people."

  "Of course." She slipped on her hostess mask. "You know, I feel this is your party as much as mine. You and Jasper have become such good friends."

  "And we're fond of you, too. Come over this way, so I can introduce you." Keeping Mel's hand in hers, Linda began weaving through the guests. "I'll bring her back," she said, laughing. "I just need to steal her a moment. Ah, here you are, Harriet. Harriet dear, I want you to meet your hostess and my friend, Mary Ellen Ryan. Mary Ellen, Harriet Breezeport."

  "How do you do?" Mel took the slim, pale hand gently. The woman was well into her sixties and had a fragile air that was accented by her snow-white hair and half glasses.

  "Delighted to meet you. So kind of you to invite us." Her voice was hardly more than a whisper. "Linda told me how charming you are. This is my son, Ethan."

  He was nearly as pale as his mother, and wire-thin. His handshake was brisk, and his eyes were as black as a bird's. "Lovely party."

  "Thank you. Why don't I find you a chair, Mrs. Breezeport? And something to drink?"