Command Performance (21 page)

“Of course I’m here. I came the moment I heard.” Chris squeezed tightly as relief came and the hours of dread through her traveling eased. “I went to the palace first. I’ve never seen so much security there before. If it hadn’t been for Bennett I might still be arguing with the guards at the gates. Eve, for God’s sake, what’s going on?”

“It’s gone. Everything. The picture of us at the opening of my first play. It was on the desk. The little china cat Mom gave me when I was ten. I always took it with me. There’s nothing left of it, nothing at all.”

“Oh, baby.” Holding tight, Chris surveyed the room over Eve’s shoulder. Unlike her sister, she did shudder, for what might have been. “I’m so sorry. But you’re safe.” Anxiously, she held her at arm’s length to study carefully. “You weren’t hurt?”

“No, no, I was nearly out of the building. Reeve said it was just a small plastic bomb. Not much range.”

“A small bomb,” Chris repeated in a whisper, and pulled Eve against her again. “Just a small one.” Her own anger surfaced as she gave her sister a quick shake. “Eve, do you know how it felt to hear about it on the news?”

“I’m sorry, Chris. Everything happened so fast, and I guess I wasn’t thinking straight. I should have called you.”

“Damn right you should have.” Then she let it pass, knowing what Eve’s state of mind must have been.
“Brie did. Prince Armand called Dad personally. He was all for hopping on the first plane and dragging you back to Houston.”

“Oh, Chris.”

“You’re safe—only because I convinced him we’d have better luck getting you to listen to me.”

“I’ll call him. Honestly, I never thought the news would get to the States so quickly.”

“I want the whole story, Eve, not the watered-down, public relations version I got on the six o’clock news.” Chris’s voice took on the firm maternal tone she had developed when Eve turned fifteen. “You can give it to me while I drive you back to the palace to pack.”

“I’m not going back, Chris.”

Chris stepped back and pushed her short, thick hair away from her forehead. “Now listen—”

“I love you,” Eve interrupted. “And I understand how you must be feeling right now, looking at all this.” She paused to take another scan of the room herself. The fury came back full force. “But I’m not running away. I came here to produce four plays, and by God, I’m going to produce four plays.”

Chris started to shout, then checked herself. The one way you never got through to Eve was with orders. “Eve, you know how much I respect what you do, what you can do, but it’s painfully obvious that Cordina isn’t safe right now. This isn’t worth risking your life over.”

“The bomb wasn’t planted for me. They only used me to get to the Bissets.” She laid a hand on her sister’s arm. “I can’t go, Chris. I think once I explain everything, you’ll understand.”

“Then you’d better explain real good.”

“I will.” With a smile Eve kissed her cheek. “But not here. We’ll use the theater manager’s office.” Eve urged Chris out into the hall, taking a quick look at her watch as they went. She intended to be back to work within the hour.

Twenty minutes later they were seated on a neat gray-and-rose sofa, working on their second cup of coffee. Chris drank hers black, using the strong, slightly bitter taste to soothe her nerves.

“Deboque.” Her cup clattered in the saucer before she set it down. “All these years later and he’s still
causing such pain.”

“From what Alex said, he’ll never stop.” As long as he lived. Eve pushed the thought away. She had never thought she could ever wish anyone dead. “I don’t even know what kind of man he is. Evil, certainly, and I’d guess obsessed. The person who called spoke of justice—he spoke of it both times. Deboque’s kind of justice won’t be met until Prince Armand is destroyed. Reeve thinks the bomb in the theater was a show of strength. Chris, what’s really frightening is that I know—somehow I’m sure—that the next target is going to be one of the Bissets.” She thought of Alexander and pressed her lips together. “It could be any one of them, even one of the children. That’s why Reeve and Brie have moved back into the palace for now.”

Chris was silent while her loyalties warred inside her. “Eve, you know how I feel about the Bissets. They’re a second family to me. But no matter how much I care for them, you come first. I want you home, away from this.”

“I can’t leave. One of the reasons is the troupe and what we’re trying to do here. Please hear me out,” she continued as Chris started to speak. When she subsided, Eve rose. She had to move. Time seemed to be pressing in on her from all directions. “I have a chance to prove something here, to myself, to you and Dad, to my industry.”

“There’s nothing you have to prove to me, Eve.”

“I do. You took care of me.” She turned back, her emotions a little shaky. “You were only five years older, but when Mom died, you did everything you could to fill the void. Maybe I wasn’t always aware of what you were doing or what you gave up to do it, but I am now. I guess I need to show you it was worth it.”

Chris felt her eyes fill and quickly shook her head. “Do you think I’ve ever doubted it? Eve, I did nothing more than be your sister.”

“Yes, you did. You were my friend.” She came back to take both of Chris’s hands. “Even when you didn’t believe, didn’t approve, you stood by me. What I’m doing here is as much for you as it is for me. I’ve never been able to explain that to you before.”

“Oh, sweetheart.” Chris’s fingers tightened on hers. “I don’t know what to say.”

“Don’t say anything for a minute. Just listen. A lot of people in the business chuckled behind my back when I first got started. Spoiled heiress out for a fling, that sort of thing. And maybe it was close to the truth at first. I never did anything worthwhile in my life before the troupe.”

“That’s not true.”

“That’s absolutely true.” She had no problem accepting the truth, or using it to push herself further. “I skimmed my way through school doing the least amount of work possible. I lounged around during the summer doing nothing at all. I watched Dad wheel and deal, I watched you take your education and turn it into success with your gallery, and I picked up another magazine. With the theater I started to find a goal, without realizing I’d needed one. Chris, when I stood on the stage for the first time, it was like a light going on in my head. Maybe my place was behind it, not on it, but I found the goal. It took a couple years after the troupe was formed for people to stop laughing. Now I have a chance to do something extraordinary. I can’t give it up.”

“I never knew you felt this way.” Chris ran her hand over the back of Eve’s. “I do understand, and I’m proud of you. I always have been, but I’m prouder than ever. I believe you can do something extraordinary, but the timing’s off. Six months from now, a year from now, when things have settled down—”

“I can’t leave, Chris. Even if they tore the theater down, if every one of my troupe went back, I couldn’t leave.” She had to draw a breath to say it, to say it out loud and calmly. “I’m in love with Alexander.”

“Oh.” Because the wind had just been knocked out of her, Chris said nothing else.

“I have to be with him now, especially now. Once I thought the troupe was everything, but as important as it is, it doesn’t come close to how I feel about him.” She paused a moment, realizing what she was saying had been there all along—she just hadn’t known it. “You don’t have to tell me that nothing can come of it—I’ve already figured that out for myself. But I have to be with him as long as I can.”

“Once I’d thought that maybe you and Bennett … I’d even gotten a kick out of imagining the two of you. But Alexander.”

“I know.” Eve rose again. “The heir. I’ve loved him for years. I managed to do a pretty good job of muddling that fact, even to myself, but there it is.”

“I’d wondered a couple of times if you might have been a bit infatuated.”

“I’m old enough to know the difference,” Eve said with a smile.

“Yes.” Sighing, Chris sat back. “Does he know how you feel?”

“I haven’t told him, but he’s a very astute man. We’ve both been very careful not to mention any four-letter word beginning with
l
. Yes, I think he knows.”

“How does he feel, Eve, about you?”

“He cares, perhaps more than he intended, less than I’d like. It’s difficult to read Alex. He’s had so much practice harnessing his emotions.” She took a deep breath. “Besides, it doesn’t matter.”

“How can you say that?”

“Because it can’t matter.” She was a practical woman, or so she told herself. A realist. “I said I knew nothing could come of it, and I can deal with that. I’m a professional. My career takes a great deal of my time and energy. Even if Alex weren’t who he is, I doubt if we could come to terms. I don’t have time for marriage and a family. I don’t need them.”

“I’m going to take more convincing than that—and so are you.”

“I really don’t.” How many times had she given herself this lecture over the past week? “A great many women don’t want marriage. Look at you.”

“Yeah.” With a low laugh Chris sat up again. “Eve, the only reason I’m not married and the mother of six is that I never met a man who was more important to me than my work. You’ve already told me you have.”

“It doesn’t matter. It can’t matter.” There was a thread of panic in her voice. “Chris, don’t you see that whatever I want, whatever I’d like, I have to deal with the reality. If I don’t accept the way things are, I’ll lose. More than anything else, I don’t want to lose him. I will one day.” Restless, she ran her hands through her hair. “He’ll have to marry, start a family. It’s a duty he’d never shirk. But until then I can share some part of him.”

“You love him so much,” Chris murmured. “I don’t know whether to cry for you or be happy.”

“Be happy. There are enough reasons for tears in the world.”

“All right, then.” She stood and wrapped her arms around her sister. “I am happy for you.” And she
reserved the right to believe dreams could come true. “I don’t suppose you’d take the afternoon off and go shopping with me?”

“Oh, I can’t. I have to get on the phone to Houston and have copies of my records shipped over. I should already be at rehearsal making sure everyone’s calm. I have to find some office space around here.” She paused, though her mind was clicking off the next steps. “Shopping for what?”

“I only brought an overnight bag. Arrogance,” she said as she picked up the leather tote. “I was sure we’d be on a plane by dinner. Now, it seems, I have to see if Cordina has something sensational for me to wear to opening night.”

“You’re staying.”

“Of course. Think I can wheedle a room at the palace?”

Eve gave her a bone-crushing squeeze. “I’ll put in a good word for you.”

* * *

Hours later, Eve sat at the laptop computer in her sitting room. The day had gone quickly, filled with problems to be solved, but the evening had dragged. Alexander hadn’t come back for dinner.

Bennett had been there, but even with his jokes and easy manner he had obviously been preoccupied. Reeve and Armand had also been absent. It was a family meal, with Gabriella and her children, Bennett, Eve and Chris—and the empty chairs where the rest of the family should have been. The moment the meal had been over Bennett had excused himself. The tension even his casualness hadn’t disguised remained in full force.

When Eve mentioned the work she still had to catch up on, Chris accompanied Gabriella upstairs to tend to the children. Back in her rooms, alone, Eve tried to fill the rest of her evening with work.

Her four scripts for the upcoming productions had been destroyed, but new copies had been secured before noon. There was no reason to look over them. She knew every word, every bit of staging. If it had been necessary, she could have filled in for any of her actors on opening night.

The opening was only days away, and though the cast had been understandably edgy that afternoon, rehearsals had gone well enough. The second production was almost as polished as the first, and rehearsals on the third play would begin the following week. If there were no more incidents.

The house was sold-out for the first three performances, and ticket sales were mounting steadily. Pete had even managed to come up with the props she had asked for.

She’d thought about reviewing her budget, but the idea of tallying figures had been anything but appealing. She had looked at her watch, soaked in the tub and checked the time again. It had been nearly ten when she’d sat down at the computer, telling herself that Alexander was safe and well, probably asleep in his own bed after a difficult day.

She would work. Her own plays had been destroyed. She could only blame herself for not making extra copies. Maybe it was just as well. That’s what she told herself. The first one had been too emotional and flowery in any case. The second—well, that had taken her six months and she’d barely gotten out of Act One.

So she’d start fresh. A new idea, a new mood, and in some ways, a new woman. Act One, Scene One, Eve told herself as she clicked on an icon to create a new file.

Time clicked by. She had printed out—and wadded up—countless sheets of paper. But a satisfying pile of working-draft sheets lay at her elbow. This time she would do it, she told herself. And when she was finished, she’d produce, maybe even direct the production herself. She chuckled as she stretched her fingers. Isn’t that what she’d told herself whenever she’d begun to write?

Alexander found her that way, hunched over the keyboard, working steadily, with her hair piled on top of her head and her legs drawn up under her. The light was burning on the table and fell across her hands as they moved over the keys. She wore the same blue robe he remembered from the first night he had come to her. She’d pushed the sleeves up to her elbows and it fell carelessly open over her thigh.

Every time he saw her he was freshly amazed at how lovely she was. She exploited her looks when she chose; at other times was negligent of them. It never seemed to matter. Competence. Was that what added so much substance to beauty? Something about her told the onlooker she could do what she set out to do, and do it
well.