by Robyn Donald
“No, I have to stay.” Her gulping sobs sent Mariel fishing for a handkerchief.
“Here,” Nicholas said, thrusting an unfolded one into her hand.
Tipping the small, drenched face, Mariel blotted the tears, saying in what she hoped was the right maternal tone, “Come on, blow your nose. You’ll feel a lot better if you do.”
Obediently the child did that, before saying in a voice thickened with tears, “I w-want my mommy, now!”
“I know you do,” Mariel said, “so why do you have to stay here?”
Caitlin folded her lips, holding back the words, but guilt and fear and indecision were written large in her features.
Nicholas said, “Come on, then, Caitlin, we’ll take you back to the quarters—”
“No—” she cried, breaking into tears again. “I’m not allowed, I’m not allowed...”
Making soothing noises, Mariel rocked the chubby little form against her shoulder until the panic-stricken weeping died away into choked hiccuping sounds.
Nicholas bent over her, easing a strand of wet hair back from her forehead. “Why do you have to stay here?” he asked without emphasis.
Sniffing, Caitlin burrowed into Mariel’s chest. “I’m not allowed to tell,” she whimpered.
“Is Daddy coming?” Mariel asked softly.
After a long hesitation the rumpled head moved up and down against her breasts. Nicholas stood up. Uneasily conscious of his searching look around the garden, Mariel said, “We’ll have to go back, darling. He must have meant you to wait for him at the compound.”
“No, he said under the pretty lady. We had a picnic here when he came to see me, and he said to wait for him here.”
Definitely worried now, Mariel released Caitlin and stood up, holding out her hand. “We need to get back to the compound,” she said to Nicholas, speaking softly.
“I think I get the idea. I’ll take her.”
“He’s probably around...”
“Keep your eyes open.” Nicholas leaned down. “There’s ice cream waiting for you,” he coaxed, unerringly homing in on every child’s greatest weakness. “Would you like some?”
Wide-eyed, Caitlin nodded.
“I’ll give you a ride if you like,” he offered.
Clearly wavering, the child glanced at him doubtfully, then nodded and silently held up her arms. He swung her up, cuddled her into his shoulder and said, “Right, let’s go.”
They were back on the path to the staff quarters when he suddenly stopped and handed the child to Mariel. “Get her out of here,” he commanded beneath his breath as he turned toward a large live oak.
Mariel had never seen Elise’s ex-husband, but she recognized him as he walked out from the shade of the big tree; in spite of his thickset, muscular body, he bore a striking resemblance to the child struggling in her arms. Against him Nicholas looked almost slender, his natural grace overshadowed by the brute physical power of the other man.
“Put her down,” he ordered.
Crying, “Daddy!” Caitlin almost jumped out of Mariel’s arms.
Silently fighting the wriggling, sobbing child, Mariel tightened her grip and walked down the path toward the compound. She could see the lights now quite clearly, but she was beginning to wonder whether she’d be able to get Caitlin there before her arms gave way.
Jimmy Jennings snapped, “Let her go!”
“She’s not going to,” Nicholas said crisply. “This is no way to go about things, man!”
“You keep your nose out of my business.” His voice became harsher. “I said, lady, for you to put her down.”
Setting her teeth, Mariel kept on walking. Caitlin wasn’t a big child, but she was resisting every step of the way, and in spite of the adrenaline flooding her system, Mariel wasn’t sure she had enough strength to make it before Jimmy lost patience. Of course he’d have to deal with Nicholas, who was walking between her and Jimmy. She stole a quick look at the two men. Oh, God, Jimmy was huge, his fists clenching and unclenching, his bulk ominous in the dappled light. If he hit Nicholas he could hurt him severely.
Yet she couldn’t let Caitlin go.
“She’s my kid,” Jimmy said angrily, keeping pace. “You want to live with me, don’t you, honey? We can go to Disneyland—”
Nicholas broke into Caitlin’s wail. “You don’t have custody so you’d be kidnapping her, and that’s a serious offence that’ll put you in jail for more years than you can count.”
“Got to catch us first,” Jimmy boasted. “I’m not as stupid as some people think—I know what to do. Anyway, her momma goes out to work all day, only sees her at night. That’s no way—”
Mariel said coldly, “If you’d given her enough to live on, instead of declaring bankruptcy—”
“Shut up,” Nicholas interrupted brusquely at the same time as Caitlin’s father spoke.
“She left me,” he said, his voice rising. “Now you listen, and you do just what I tell you to, lady, because I’ve got a gun.”
Horrified, Mariel spared him another swift glance. Sure enough, something gleamed evilly in Jimmy’s hand. Sudden, abject fear robbed her limbs of strength. She staggered, but clutched her burden more tightly and managed to regain her footing. Swiftly Nicholas moved across to support her with a strong hand, still positioning himself between her and the man who threatened them.
Nicholas, she thought, striving to suppress her panic, Nicholas, be careful!
Angry, baffled frustration roughened Jimmy’s voice. “You put her down nice and slow on the ground, lady. Nice and easy. She’s precious, and I don’t want anyone to hurt her.”
“What sort of life is she going to have while you’re on the run?” Nicholas said, his hand in the small of Mariel’s back, propelling her on when she instinctively slowed. He continued without a pause, speaking almost conversationally. “You’ll have to go into hiding, which means you’ll never be able to send her to school, so she’ll grow up illiterate. You won’t be able to make close friends in case you give yourself away, so she won’t know how to behave in company. And although she wants to go with you now, she’s going to miss her mother and pine for her as much as she’s pined for you. Is that what you want for her? Unhappiness and bitterness? Because she’s old enough to know what you’ve done, and how do you think she’ll feel about you in ten years’ time when she realizes just what she’s missed because of you?”
“She won’t miss anything,” Jimmy said angrily. “I’ll look after her properly—she’s my baby, as well as that bitch’s. I’m not going to hurt her!”
He seemed to be trying to justify himself. Mariel saw moonlight gleam on a wildly waving gun, and she swallowed. But she understood Nicholas’s tactics and, in spite of quivering legs and arms and a dry throat, in spite of fear that clutched her stomach and numbed her brain, she kept walking toward the compound. Caitlin stopped struggling and turned her face toward her father, her brow furrowed. Praying she’d stay that way, Mariel wished Nicholas would get out of the line of fire.
She didn’t like the hint of desperation in Jimmy’s voice. She was safe—he wouldn’t try to shoot her while she carried Caitlin—but Nicholas was not. If Jimmy lost his head...
Nicholas’s strong hand slid around her waist and forced her relentlessly on as he said evenly, “What about college? If you’re on the run you’re not going to be able to save enough money to send her to college. Is that what you want for her? A dead-end job slinging hash in some roadside cafe? That’s if she gets enough education to be able to qualify for college.’’
“I’ve got money,” Jimmy said harshly. “I tell you, I love her! I’ve thought this all out—she’ll be happier with me than with her mother...”
The walls of the converted stables loomed closer. Another twenty-five yards—surely she could hang on for another twenty-five yards.
Fear tasted metallic in her mouth. Thank God Caitlin was quiescent. Still staring at her father, she was clinging to Mariel.
“You just leave
that to me to work out,” Jimmy snarled, suddenly losing patience. “Lady, if you don’t put her down right now, I’m going to shoot your man. And I’m a good shot, so I’ll get him. After all, if I’ve got to go to jail for kidnapping, it’s not going to make much difference if there’s a murder charge on the indictment, too.”
“I don’t care how good a shot you are,” Nicholas said calmly. “You’re quite likely to miss. Handguns are not accurate enough for you to be certain you’ll hit me. How would you feel if the bullet found another mark—someone small?”
“You get away from them,” Jimmy ordered fiercely.
Nicholas said, “No.”
“Damn you, I can take you, anyway, without this.” He spat the words as he came toward them in a rush, low and fast, his arms spread wide.
Another surge of adrenaline boosted Mariel, but it was Nicholas’s swift push that got her to Elisa’s door.
Caitlin began to cry again, wailing, “Daddy, Daddy, Daddy...”
A door jerked backward, and Elise stood there, wild-eyed and panic-stricken. “Oh, God,” she cried, rushing forward and grabbing her daughter from Mariel’s arms. Caitlin’s crying soared into a crescendo.
“Get inside,” Mariel hissed, pushing mother and child toward Elise’s door.
She turned just in time to see Nicholas deliver a swift, sharp chop somewhere in the region of Jimmy’s throat. The other man let out an inhuman grunt as he dropped, then lay motionless on the ground.
“Oh!” She raced across the grass. “Are you all right?” she demanded urgently.
Nicholas didn’t even seem to be breathing more heavily than normal, although his eyes glittered, and when she got closer she could see a faint sheen of sweat on his forehead.
“I’m fine.” He dropped on his knee beside the unconscious Jimmy and touched the pulse in his neck. “So is he, although he’s not going to feel too good when he wakes up.”
“Is that a gun?” Elise’s horrified voice came from behind them.
Mariel looked up, but Elise was alone.
“It’s all right,” she said, “she’s with Saranne.” Her breath caught. She looked down at the man who had been her husband and asked sickly, “What did he do?”
As Nicholas checked the pistol, Mariel told her in a few concise sentences exactly what had happened.
By the time she’d finished, Jimmy was beginning to stir. Elise looked down at him with hard eyes. “So that’s what it was all about. I suppose he somehow got a message to Caitlin.”
The man on the ground moaned. Elise said bitterly, “I could kill him! He’s put her through hell.”
Nicholas straightened. “For what it’s worth,” he said mildly, “he didn’t sound as though he meant her any harm. Or anyone—there’re no bullets in this thing.”
“Oh, that’s just so typical! Of course he wouldn’t hurt her—he loves her—but he’s such a fool,” Elise said angrily. “He’s never grown up. He thinks if he wants something he should have it, and I don’t think he’s ever going to get past it. He’s a clever man—he’s made a lot of money, worked himself out of the village here and into his own business—but he’s just a spoiled kid at heart.”
“Do you want to lay a charge?” Nicholas asked neutrally.
Elise stared at him. “Do you?” she asked.
Nicholas said, “Not particularly. I can understand how he feels, although I don’t condone his behaviour. But it occurs to me that a good lawyer should be able to use this incident to everyone’s advantage—even, perhaps, your ex-husband’s.”
“Nicholas was just wonderful,” Elise enthused the next morning. “After you left us we had a long talk—he’s very easy to talk to, isn’t he?—and then he suggested some ways of stopping Jimmy’s harassment. He’s clever. He more or less manhandled Jimmy to his cousin’s down in the village. I’ve just been talking to my lawyer, and he thinks that we’ve got enough on Jimmy to get a much better deal than the one we got originally. He’s contacting Jimmy’s lawyer.”
“I’m so glad,” Mariel said.
Elise looked at her. “Jimmy wouldn’t have shot you or Nicholas,” she said earnestly. “He thinks he’s a hard man, but he’s not violent. Still, you weren’t to know that, or that the gun wasn’t loaded. Nicholas said you kept your head and just went on walking. I can’t thank you enough.”
Mariel said bracingly, “I knew I was quite safe while I had Caitlin.”
But Elise’s eyes filled with tears. “Most people panic when someone waves a gun at them, but Nicholas said you didn’t. You and Nicholas saved her. I’m never going to forget that.”
“How is she now?”
Elise swallowed and blew her nose. “Oddly enough, she seems all right. I suppose part of this was my fault. I should have let him see her, but I was so mad when he declared bankruptcy I got as obstructive as possible, and I said he couldn’t call her anymore. He’s been calling her at his cousin’s. Saranne knew, but she didn’t tell me, because she thought I was being unreasonable.”
“That seems a little remiss of her,” Mariel said caustically.
Elise shrugged. “She’s known Jimmy all her life. She never thought he’d pull a stunt like this. Well, neither did I. What happened last night shocked us all.”
“Me, too,” Mariel said fervently. “Is Caitlin at school today?”
“Yes. I thought it better to behave as though everything was normal. I think she’s relieved she doesn’t have to go with Jimmy. She keeps asking when we’re going to see him, and I’ve promised that they can have time together. At least I’ve got some hold on him now. I told my lawyer exactly what happened, and I’m going to write it out and sign it and give it to him to keep, and if Jimmy puts one foot out of line, I’ll take him to court. After that, well, we’ll just have to wait and see. He might have learned a lesson.”
Mariel certainly hoped so; her blood still ran cold at the memory of the gun wavering in Jimmy’s hand, and Nicholas walking between her and it.
CHAPTER FIVE
During the following exhausting two days Mariel avoided Nicholas as much as she could. Apparently the discovery of the ministers’ shared interest in swordplay had ended the preliminaries, because both delegations settled down to hard work. Nicholas was always there, an obviously valued aide to Mr. McCabe, but he made no attempt to seek Mariel out, for which she was profoundly grateful.
Common sense warned her that she’d only cause herself grief if she allowed her heart any latitude beyond a casual interest in a virile, attractive and dominant man.
So she did her best to keep her mind firmly on her job and managed reasonably well, although her sleep was still haunted by dreams.
By the time it was over and the talks had wound up amidst goodwill all around, she was living on the ragged edge of her nerves. After the Japanese deputation had flown out on the afternoon helicopter, she changed into amber-coloured silk trousers and a long silk top and went into the bar to say goodbye to Desmond.
“Mineral water?” he asked, automatically reaching for the small green bottle.
She grinned. “No, I think I’ll have some champagne,” she said.
Desmond lifted his brows.
“It’s all right,” Mariel said confidentially. “I only ever have one.’’
“I didn’t think you drank.”
“I don’t when I’m working.”
He poured a glass of champagne, saying, “I hear the Japanese have gone. The New Zealanders are leaving tomorrow morning?”
As she nodded his gaze moved to focus just behind and above her head. The skin on the back of her neck tightened, raising tiny hairs in an atavistic reaction to danger. She hadn’t heard a sound, but even without Desmond’s reaction she’d have known who’d just arrived.
“Good evening, sir,” Desmond said smoothly. “Whiskey and soda?”
“Thank you.” Nicholas’s voice was even, but she thought she heard a note of disapproval in it.
Deliberately she lifted the glass of champagne to
her lips. It was utterly ridiculous to feel guilty.
Ridiculous or not, she took only the smallest of sips before turning her head so that she could see the man behind her.
It was a small, treacherous blow to her pride to realize he wasn’t looking at her. His eyes were fixed on Susan Waterhouse, standing with a couple of the younger New Zealanders on the other side of the room, and he was frowning.
I am not in the least jealous, Mariel told herself firmly.
“Come with me,” Nicholas said, his voice breaking into her scattered, tumbling thoughts. His glance commanded, but that wasn’t what pulled her to her feet.
Perhaps the champagne wasn’t a good idea. When he looked at her like that, all pure male charisma backed by a hard, confident authority, she’d follow him across the world, an unwanted response that had to be caused by the bubbles in her blood.
Then again, the champagne might have nothing to do with it at all; it could be simply her response to the savage compulsion that stirred in her every time she saw him.
“Where are we going?”
“I said I’d join the others.”
She most emphatically did not want to head across the room, but she did. She concentrated on being good company, even though it was difficult with Peter Sanderson’s avid glance flicking from the cool, patrician beauty of Susan Waterhouse’s face to Nicholas’s, across to meet Mariel’s bland gaze, and then back again, a tiny spark of malice lurking in his eyes.
Within minutes she discovered who that malice was directed at.
When someone mentioned the excellent examples of art in the hotel, he said, “They’ve even got a Picasso, Susan. One of his blue period. I noticed it specially because you and Nicholas had a signed print very like it in your flat in London. Remember? It hung in the sitting room over a rather nice inlaid sort of cabinet.”
In the long, wakeful nights, Mariel had wondered what exactly her feelings were for Nicholas. She discovered now that she was fiercely, angrily, outrageously jealous of the woman with whom he’d lived. She sipped more champagne, keeping an iron hold on her features because Peter Sanderson was watching her with a gleeful smugness. Why had he deliberately dropped that piece of gossip into the conversation? What reaction had he hoped for?
