CHAPTER FOUR
“Who are you?” Della asked at once, her hand still on the doorknob.
The man came closer. He had dark hair and eyes and a faintly foreign look. He tilted his head to one side and studied her, from her short, wavy blond hair to her small feet. “I’ll ask the questions,” he said. “Why are you looking for Tansy Deverell?”
She hesitated. “How did you know I was?”
“You arrived this morning with Christopher Deverell. I know of him, and I know his angle in this—she’s his mother. I don’t know yours.”
“I’m a journalist,” she said. “I get an exclusive interview if I can help find her.”
He studied her narrowly for several seconds. “I did some research on you and Deverell before I came over. Tansy Deverell’s husband—and the father of her two sons—was in Morocco during World War II,” he said. “He saved the life of a young Arab who was spying for the French resistance.”
“That’s very interesting, but what does it have to do with Tansy?” she asked.
He moved into the light, and she could see the foreign look of him. “That young Arab was my grandfather,” he said. “Ordinarily I don’t get mixed up in high-profile cases, and Deverell wouldn’t have had enough money to buy my help. But I’ll take the case because of Deverell’s father. I owe the family a favor.”
“Who are you?” she asked belatedly.
“Oh, you can call me Seth,” he replied carelessly.
Her eyebrows went up. “Lord Bainbridge told us about you.”
“Not much, I’ll wager.” He moved back to the phone and with economical, graceful ease, lifted the phone and called Chris. “I’m in Della’s room,” he said when Chris answered. He hung up.
It didn’t take Chris two minutes to sprint the distance from his room to hers. He was admitted at once, and he gave Seth a calculating scrutiny while he held on to Della’s small hand.
Seth noted the protective attitude and smiled. “She was perfectly safe,” he assured Chris. “I never hurt women.”
“Why did you come to her, and not to me?” Chris wanted to know.
“I don’t know you personally. But I know of you,” he replied with a faint smile. “And I know of your father,” he replied. “He saved my grandfather’s life during World War II. Small world.”
“Very,” Chris agreed.
Seth moved back into the room and to a tray that was sitting on the table by the window. “I ordered high tea. Help yourselves.”
They joined him at the table, warily.
He sat back with a scone in one hand and a cup of tea in the other, studying them while they sugared their own tea.
“That’s bad for you,” he remarked. “Sugar is the curse of the twentieth century. Empty calories.”
“Life without sugar is no life at all,” Della said with a grin. “Sorry.”
He glanced at Chris as he sipped tea. “Your mother is being held by some cronies of Tony Cartwright’s,” Seth said abruptly. “They’ve got her in a garage on the Manchester road, and they’ve just become desperate fugitives. Lady Harvey called a press conference twenty minutes ago to publicly blame the murder on Tony, via the press camped outside her manor house. Her story is that Tony killed and robbed the old man and then planned to say she did it because her husband was going to divorce her and she’d lose her inheritance. Tony got wind of it and snatched Tansy, who has friends in high circles in Great Britain, to use as a hostage. They plan to turn her over to the police in return for an airplane to fly them out of the country.”
Chris cursed under his breath. “Do the police know about this?”
“Not yet,” Seth said easily. “But they have access to the same sources I used to get the information and they’ll find out what Tony’s up to very shortly. Meanwhile, Lady Harvey, having freed herself from her husband and her greedy lover is busily making plans to stash her inheritance in Swiss bank accounts before it can be enjoined.”
“What about the inheritance tax? Surely she uses banks,” Chris protested.
“She does—banks in the Bahamas. A sharp little lady, indeed, no loose ends except Tansy, and she’s arranged things so that Tony will be taking care of that one.” He finished his scone and leaned forward abruptly with the cup in his hands. “You know they’ll kill her when they get what they want, don’t you? His sort doesn’t take chances.”
Chris had already guessed that. His face set in grim lines. “Damn them all,” he said in a deep, low undertone. “I never cheated or threatened anyone to get where I am, and I didn’t inherit all that much to begin with.”
Seth nodded. “I know.” He pursed his lips and studied the younger man quietly. He looked hard. His eyes were like black coals. “I can tell the police all this, including where to find Tansy, if that’s what you want.”
Chris stared at him levelly. “There’s an alternative,” he guessed.
Seth nodded. “Myself, two men, you and Della.”
Chris glanced at Della. “I’ll go. She shouldn’t. This isn’t her fight.”
She gave him her best glare. “I go,” she said shortly. “It would be the best story I ever wrote!”
“Maybe the last, too,” Chris said. He didn’t like to think of Della in danger.
“Tell him I can go,” Della said to Seth.
Seth shrugged. “You can as far as I’m concerned. You two will do my legwork for me while I set up the hit.”
“You won’t shoot anybody?” Della asked.
“That’s up to the captors. If they shoot, we shoot back,” he said with finality. “I’m not risking my men’s lives.”
“I thought people in England weren’t allowed to carry guns,” Della pointed out.
“Most people aren’t. Some police and other agencies do.” He met Chris’s solemn gaze. “I’ll clear it with the right people before I go in,” he said. “I’m not an outlaw, in case that’s what you were thinking. I always work within the law whenever possible. Especially in this country,” he added with a smile.
“All right then. Della and I will do whatever you need. Name your price,” Chris said. “I’ll mortgage everything I own if that’s what it takes to get Tansy back.”
The other man studied him like a zoo specimen. “That’s unusual these days, did you know?” he asked. “Most would rather have the money.”
“Tansy’s worth her weight in it,” Chris said simply. “Even if she is a royal pain in the neck from time to time.” He chuckled softly. “At least she’s never boring.”
Seth laughed. He put down his cup and stood up. “It’s been a pleasure. I’ll be in touch as soon as I’ve worked things out. Stick close to the hotel for the next day. I’ll have to get a few things together and contact my men.”
“Will do. But what about the payment?” Chris asked.
“The ransom, you mean?”
Chris frowned. “That, too, but I meant your fee.”
“Oh, that. I’ll settle for high tea at the Ritz, at your convenience,” he said. “No skimping on the cream and butter, either,” he added with a lifted finger. “First-class.”
Chris looked at the man as if he were crazy. “High tea?”
Seth shrugged. “I love high tea. I can’t get enough of it. I’ve already got more money than I like to have.” He glanced at Della and smiled. “These days I take cases only when they interest me. You’re a dish.”
“Thank you,” she said, flushing.
He sighed. “I love blondes,” he murmured. He glanced at Chris wryly. “Pity she didn’t see me first.” He nodded and went out of the room as silently as a breath of air.
“What a very odd man,” Della exclaimed when he was gone.
“I hope we can trust him,” Chris murmured. “Although I don’t really see that we have a choice. Tansy’s safety has to be my first concern.”
“What do you suppose he’ll ask us to do?” she wondered.
He got up and went to the window to stare down at the busy street below. “At a guess, he’ll want us to go to the hideout posing as a couple of lost tourists. It might just work. While we’ve got them distracted at the front door, he and his men can go in the back.”
Della leaned forward with her forearms across her knees. “I just can’t believe people would do something this vile for money.”
“They might not, ordinarily. Lady Harvey seems to be playing both ends against the middle. No honor among thieves there, I’ll wager.” He turned back to her. “I hate to think of Tansy in such hands.”
“I know.” She got up and went to him, her gray eyes soft and compassionate as they met his. “But she’s been in a lot of scrapes over the years. If anyone can come out on top, it’s your mother. These guys are amateurs. Your mother is a professional troublemaker.”
He forced a smile. “Yes, she is. But this is a new kind of situation, even for her. She’s diabetic,” he added worriedly. “I don’t even know if she’s got her insulin tablets with her.”
“She doesn’t take insulin shots?”
He shook his head. “For a while, she didn’t even have to have pills, but she wouldn’t leave sugar alone. Emotional upsets play havoc with her sugar levels, and she won’t be eating properly as a captive.” He slammed one fist into the palm of the other hand. “I’d love to get my hands on those guys for five minutes.”
“We’ll get her out,” she said firmly. “You have to think positively.”
He looked down at her through amused black eyes. “You’re a tonic,” he murmured. “A real tonic.”
She smiled. “Thanks.”
He reached out and touched her wavy blond hair lightly. “I haven’t thanked you for letting me drag you into this.” He was solemn all at once. “Listen, if this looks like being dangerous, I want you right out of it. I won’t risk your life, even to save Tansy’s.”
She was taken aback by the unexpected, and touching, concern. She searched his face quietly. “You might not believe it, but I can handle myself.”
“Not if you get in the way of a bullet,” he assured her.
She lifted her thin eyebrows. “Have you ever been shot at?”
“Several times,” he volunteered.
“In the army?”
He shook his head.
“How, then?”
“I did a brief stint as a mercenary,” he confided. “Back in my wild youth, right after I got out of the service. I was in before Desert Storm. The only service I saw was in Germany, where I hit as many nightclubs as possible. After I got out, I met up with some career soldiers who were hired for a little job in Africa. I went along.” He shook his head. “One taste of the life was enough to convince me it wasn’t worth the price it exacted. I saw things I’ll never be able to forget. When I came home, I went wild for a time. Life was suddenly short, and I was determined to squeeze every drop of pleasure out of each day.”
That reminded her of the playboy he’d once been. “You didn’t hold life very dear until then, did you?” she asked shrewdly.
He shrugged. “Not really,” he agreed. “I didn’t think very far ahead.” His eyes were reflective as he stared out the window. “Looking back, it seems to me that I didn’t have much grasp of the important things even after Africa. I lived from day to day and burned the candle at both ends. If it hadn’t been for the wreck, I might never have strayed from that path.”
“I’m sorry it took a wreck to wake you up.”
He sighed. “That makes two of us.” He put his hands in his pockets and jiggled his loose change. “Well, we seem to be stuck in the hotel tomorrow. What would you like to do to pass the time?”
“We could investigate the gym facilities,” she offered. “I noticed on the way down in the elevator that they have a health club for visitors here.”
“I had enough physical therapy after the wreck,” he said. “I’ll pass.”
“They have a swimming pool,” she said.
He looked uncomfortable. “I don’t swim.”
She glowered at him. “You’re just making up excuses. I happen to know that you swim like a fish. You spent a month at that Italian actress’s villa in Rome, and you swam with her every day.”
His black eyes flashed. “Yes. I did. That was before the wreck.”
“You mean you can’t swim because of the injuries?” she asked, puzzled.
“I can’t swim because of the scars,” he said through his teeth. “The wreck was so bad, the car had to be cut apart to get me out.” He added, “As I mentioned earlier, I had internal injuries as well as external ones, and there are gashes on my stomach and upper thigh that I don’t want anyone to see.”
She looked up at him quizzically. “Not even me?”
He hadn’t thought about her seeing his wounds. Della wasn’t like some women who would have turned away or averted her eyes. She wouldn’t be intimidated by a few scars. When she looked at him, she wouldn’t even see them.
“I haven’t worn swimming trunks since the wreck,” he murmured.
“It’s time you did. A few laps in the pool will be good for you.” She grinned at him. “You can teach me how to swim.”
“You don’t know?” he asked, aghast.
She shook her head. “There was never anyone who could teach me. Grandad can’t swim, either.”
“Didn’t you take classes when you were in school?”
“Sure. All sorts. But not swimming.”
“You should know how,” he said seriously. “It might save your life one day.”
“Then teach me how.”
“I don’t want to swim around people,” he said doggedly.
“Okay. Let’s wait until tonight, just at bedtime,” she coaxed.
He stared at her uneasily. He didn’t speak.
“Think about it,” she added, and then let the subject drop.
* * *
They had a leisurely supper in the dining room. True to his word, Chris had bought her a lovely dress to wear. Della had a huge prawn cocktail, followed by Beef Wellington with exquisitely cooked vegetables and homemade breads. The dessert table was almost her undoing. She sat and stared at it for a long time before she decided what to order.
Chris watched her with undisguised delight. She ate the same way she did everything else, wholeheartedly and without inhibition. When coffee was served, she sat back with a long sigh.
“The food here is just delicious,” she said fervently. “I can’t remember when I’ve eaten anything so wonderful.”
“I can’t remember when I’ve enjoyed watching a woman eat,” he murmured dryly. “Over the years, most of my dates have fancied rabbit food.”
She glowered. “I’m not eating bean sprouts and tofu until I break a scale,” she informed him. “Food should be a permissible vice.”
“Especially at your age,” he agreed with a chuckle.
“You aren’t that much older than I am.”
“Not chronologically,” he said. “But you’re a lifetime behind me in other things.” He smiled with pure cynicism. “You still have illusions. I lost mine years ago.”
“I hope I never do,” she murmured as she toyed with her napkin. “I think that one person can make a difference in the world.”
“And I know for a fact that several million people have tried and failed.”
She looked up into his eyes. “How did you get so cynical?”
“I lived in the fast lane,” he said with an unfamiliar hardness. “You grow up pretty fast.”
She searched his black eyes curiously. “Tansy was married five times, you said?”
He nodded curtly. “Our father was much older than she was. But then, Tansy was about forty when I was born. Nobody thought she could get pregnant anymore—especially Tansy.”
“Was she a good mother?” she asked.
He shrugged. “She wasn’t around much. When Dad was alive, I have a faint recollection of how he took her with him most places he went on business. They spent a good deal of time in Spain with his rich relatives, or in England with hers. Logan and I were pretty much raised by a succession of housekeepers and governesses.”
“Is your brother like you?”
“Oh, no,” he said with a smile. “Logan’s the solemn one. He was always responsible and mature. I was the gadfly. Maybe that’s why Tansy and I got along so well. She saw herself in me.” His eyes darkened. “After Dad died, she went wild. She’d always been outgoing and cheerful, but she collected and discarded men like paper napkins. After she divorced the last one, she seemed to enjoy creating scandals. Not that I can throw stones,” he added in a soft, sensual tone. “I’ve done my share of headlining.”
“She must have cared for your father a great deal,” Della observed.
He frowned and then laughed hollowly. “Amazing that you knew that at once. It took me years to work it out.”
It occurred to her belatedly that many of his stepfathers might not have liked a ready-made family. “Those stepfathers, were they very hard to take?”
He nodded. “For me, more than for Logan. By the time Tansy remarried, Logan was out on his own. I wasn’t. Eventually Tansy decided that a military school would be just what the doctor ordered. I liked it, but I resented Tansy too much to stay there. I jumped ship after the first year and ended up in Spain with one of my father’s brothers. Tansy let me alone. Eventually I wandered back to the States, just in time to register for the draft. By then, the military seemed as good a choice as any, so I enlisted.”
“Nobody can say your life hasn’t been interesting,” she pointed out.
He chuckled. “It’s been useless, for the most part,” he replied. “Just lately, I’ve been feeling my age. Making money is nice, but I want to do something else.” His eyes held a faraway look. “I want to build yachts. Racing yachts. It’s been a dream of mine for years, but I’ve never had the commitment to try it. After spending time in Spain this summer, I’ve almost come to a decision. My friend who races in the America’s Cup competitions has offered to go into partnership with me. I’m very tempted.”
“You should follow your dreams,” she said seriously.
He searched her face. “Do you know, I’m beginning to think I have a few of them left.”
She smiled. “I’m glad.”
* * *
The pool, as Della had guessed, was deserted late at night. Since Chris didn’t have swimming trunks, he had to buy a pair—but they were conservative, black with white stripes and as long as boxer shorts. Despite the scars that he was so self-conscious about, he looked good in trunks. His natural olive tan made his eyes and hair look even darker than they were, and his body was muscular without being exaggerated. Della found him exciting and had to force herself not to stare.
She was wearing a one-piece canary-yellow suit that outlined her hourglass figure very well.
“Not bad, Miss Larson,” Chris drawled, giving her a sensual appraisal that made her knees feel weak. “Not bad at all.”
“I could say the same thing,” she murmured with a shy smile.
He moved closer, so that she could see the thin white scars that crisscrossed his abdomen and what she could see of his thighs. “Could you?” he asked with faint cynicism.
“If you think a few scars would put women off you, you’re nuts,” she said flatly. “You’re devastating.”
He chuckled. “Plain speaking, and here I thought you were shy.”
“I am, mostly. But you’re creating a problem that doesn’t exist,” she added. “The scars have faded so much that you have to look close to see them.” She searched his eyes. “And it isn’t noticeable that you only have vision in one eye,” she murmured. “I’m sorry about the wreck. But you’re still the man you were, aren’t you?”
He moved even closer. “Am I? Let’s see.”
Before she could decide whether or not he was teasing, he bent and lifted her off the tile floor, holding her close to his warm body.
She gripped his shoulders hard. “You aren’t going to toss me in?” she asked worriedly as he moved closer to the edge.
“I was thinking about it,” he confessed.
“I’m afraid of deep water,” she told him.
“Okay.” He put her down at the steps that led into the shallow end of the pool. “Go at your own speed.”
She smiled. “Thanks.”
She eased down into the cool water, feeling it absorb her like wet silk. She sighed and spread her arms, enjoying the feel of it, but still on her feet.
Chris moved close to her and lifted her arms around his neck. “I won’t let you drown,” he promised, and struck off to the deeper water. “You’re an elemental person, aren’t you?” he asked quietly. “You’re sensual.”
She laughed nervously. “I’ve never been called that before!”
He didn’t smile. His eyes were locked with hers as he paused at shoulder depth, holding her lightly by the waist so she didn’t sink. “I’m sure you’ve never given yourself much opportunity to find out. It’s pure loss of control to let your senses go free.” He brought her close. “But it’s time you learned how sweet it is.”
“I don’t…”
His mouth covered hers, stopping the words in the back of her throat. She’d been kissed before, but Chris was a totally new experience. He nibbled at her lips, teased them with his tongue, savored them until they parted and began to respond shyly to the lazy insistence of his warm, hard mouth.
She made a feeble effort to save herself, pushing gently at his broad shoulders, but he didn’t stop. If anything, he became more demanding. On a soft, harsh groan, his hands went down to her hips and pressed them firmly into the aroused contours of his own. He held the kiss, built it into something devouring and frightening.
Della cried out softly as his hands became invasive, teasing under the elastic at her legs to find the soft skin of her thighs and hips.
He lifted his mouth. His eyes were black and his breathing wasn’t quite normal. His hands lifted from her thighs, but they slid up and kept going until they found and caressed her high, firm breasts.
“Chris…!” she choked.
His thumb and forefinger tested the hardness of a small nipple while he searched her shocked eyes. He bent and kissed her at the same time that his hand slid inside the deep V of the bathing suit and found soft bare skin. His other arm impelled her even closer to his aroused body.
Della was flying. She knew that if she lived to be a hundred, there would never be another moment like this, another man like this. He was experienced, but it wasn’t his way with women that attracted her. It was everything about him.
The sound of voices broke them reluctantly apart. He moved his hands back discreetly to her waist and held her there, fighting for breath, as a party of people came out to the pool area and put down towels and drinks on nearby tables.
“What will you do,” he asked softly, “if I suggest that we go back to my room and finish what we started?”
She smiled. “I’d suggest that you teach me how to swim instead.”
He chuckled. “As I suspected. Well, dash my dreams to bits, why don’t you?” he murmured. “I’ll never sleep.”
“You will if you’re tired enough,” she assured him. She moved back a little. “Come on. Teach me.”
“This isn’t what I want to teach you, you little blonde witch,” he muttered.
She grinned. “Sure it is! Just think, I might make it to the Olympics, and you could tell everyone that you taught me everything I know.”
He let out a long, wistful sigh. “Okay, you win.” He shook his head as he looked at her. “What raw potential.”
She made a face at him. “Swimming. Teach me swimming.”
“Would you believe that you’re the first woman who ever turned me down flat?”
“There’s a first time for everything,” she assured him.
He shook his head and moved her into a position on her back. “We’ll begin with floating,” he said. “This will give you confidence in the water.”
It didn’t, at first. But as they went along, she began to feel less intimidated by the deep water beneath her. The pool was lighted, and there were lamps on long poles all the way around it. Chris seemed both relaxed and pleased with her company. A gorgeous brunette in the party of people nearby found him attractive and tried to flirt with him. To Della’s surprise, he cut her off abruptly and in such a way that she didn’t try it again.
As they were going up in the elevator to their rooms, Della studied him from the folds of her beach robe with curious eyes.
“She was gorgeous, you know,” she told him.
He searched her eyes. “You’re gorgeous,” he replied, and he wasn’t teasing. “Inside and out. After you, I don’t know that I could look at another woman.”
She caught her breath. “Isn’t this sudden?”
He nodded. “Like lightning striking. You never see it coming. Then it hits, and your life changes.”
“Changes, how?” she asked hesitantly.
“I’m not sure yet.” He studied her oval face quietly. “I wouldn’t have gone into the water if you hadn’t insisted,” he said. “I’m glad you did. I don’t look as bad as I thought, apparently.”
“Of course you don’t,” she scoffed. “You’re still devastating to women, scars and all.”
“I noticed,” he replied with a speaking glance at her body.
She felt uneasy. “You aren’t angry?”
His eyebrows lifted. “At what?”
“At me, for not wanting to go back to your room with you.”
He only smiled. “I’m disappointed. I’m not angry.” The elevator stopped and he caught her hand in his and held it until they reached her door. He turned to face her after she’d inserted the card key and opened it. “I like you the way you are, Della,” he said. “Old-fashioned hang-ups and all.”
“I’m glad.”
He bent and kissed her gently. “Get some sleep. I have a feeling we’re going headfirst into the fire in the morning.”
“You, too,” she said. She reached up and brushed back a lock of unruly dark hair from his forehead. Her heart was in her eyes. “You need someone to take care of you,” she said quietly. “You don’t take care of yourself.”
His fingers touched her cheek. “You might take on the job,” he said softly. “There’s a vacancy.”
She smiled. “I’ll think about it. Good night. Sleep well.”
“You, too.”
He gave her a long last look before he wandered off down the hall in his own beach robe, looking as elegant as he did in a suit. Della watched him until he was out of sight. It occurred to her that she was in love with him.