Red Midnight (29 page)

I got a letter from Mary today and they’re on their way over here.”

His lashes half lowered over his eyes again. “Go on.”

“I don’t want Mary to know that I—about the circumstances of our marriage—not until she has to. She worries about me enough already because of my marriage to Marc. She … uh … she doesn’t know what went wrong, just that I made a severe mistake.”

His eyes were upon her again; his mouth was slightly curled in a subtle grin. “Keep going.”

“Oh, stop it!” Erin snapped. “You know what I’m getting at! And I’ve certainly played things your way for your convenience! I’d appreciate it if you were to—to give Mary and Ted the impression that we’re a nice, normal married couple.”

His lips were compressed against his grin, his eyes still shaded. He leaned back in his chair, hands folded prayerlike against his chin. “And when will we be seeing Mary and Ted?”

“They come in the day after tomorrow.”

“Quick visas,” Jarod observed.

“Yes, well …” This was the part she had been dreading. She wondered if he could see the blood that felt as if it were flooding to her face, that she was squirming inside. “They got by some of the red tape because they’re coming here.”

“Here?”

“To this—your—apartment. Only for a day or two—just until you can get them into the Rossia.”

He didn’t say anything, didn’t show any emotion except that touch of sardonic amusement. Yet he wasn’t as amused as he might have been; there was a grim quality to his features she wasn’t sure she liked.

“I tried to call them and stop them, but it was too late. They’ve already left home—”

“You tried to call? How?”

“I—ah—through the U.S. embassy,” Erin faltered.

“Oh—Mr. Sayer, I presume?”

“Yes.”

He grimaced dryly and reached for his cigarettes. “Want one?” he inquired.

Erin started to accept and then vaguely remembered that she shouldn’t be smoking. But she had already half convinced herself that a mistake had been made—and looking at Jarod, living, breathing granite, she thought again that it had to be entirely impossible. No warmth existed between them at all. She couldn’t possibly be carrying his child. And she couldn’t quit smoking cold. A few drags would soothe her ruffled nerves and then she could put it out.

She leaned slightly to accept the light he offered and then eased back, watching his unreadable eyes. He inhaled deeply on his cigarette, then smiled a chilling smile.

“Let me get this straight. Mary and Ted are arriving here the day after tomorrow. They are going to stay here, and we’re going to convince them that our marriage was created in heaven rather than out of necessity.”

“Not amusing,” Erin said dryly, “but yes, you’ve got the general gist of it.”

“Ah hah. So where do you propose we put Mary and Ted?”

She sipped her coffee and nervously crushed out the cigarette he had just lit for her. “We’ll have to put them in the den and both sleep in the bedroom.”

He laughed, and it was a dry sound. “I see. You’re inviting me back into my bedroom after you’ve thrown me out of it.”

Erin compressed her lips and said nothing.

“Erin?” he persisted relentlessly. “Have I got another ‘general gist of it’?”

“Yes!”

“Hmmm, very interesting.” Suddenly he tensed, leaning over the desk, and the glacial twist of his eyes became sizzling. “When did you find out about your friends arriving?”

Erin frowned, confused by his startling, terse pounce. “Just this morning. Why?”

He reached into the top drawer of his desk and tossed a packet toward her. Erin colored as she saw it was the container of pills she had just acquired from the Soviet doctor.

“You went through my purse,” she hissed tensely.

He shrugged eloquently. “We Russians are known to do things like that,” he drawled. “Actually, it didn’t take much going through—they were sitting right on top, and your bag was open.”

Erin didn’t say anything. Her eyes seemed glued to the plastic packet.

“Well?”

“Well what?”

“These were prescribed two days ago. Before you had any intention of inviting me back into my own bedroom. Certainly not for my benefit, Mrs. Steele. So for whose?”

Oh, God, Erin thought sickly, what a stupid waste. She was going to pay the price for pills the doctor had said were useless anyway.

“Dammit, Erin, I want to know why. I think I stated very clearly that you’d best consider yourself a loyal wife—unwilling or not.” His voice lowered suddenly and she felt the heat behind it—and every instinct within her warned that she’d better come up with an answer quickly.

“Erin!”

“I am ‘loyal,’” she said acidly, “and I’m quite sure you must realize I couldn’t be anything else but. You’ve informed me you have people watching me.” She didn’t like the way his eyes narrowed, and so she continued. “I had asked Tanya to get me an appointment right after we were married, when … when … The other day was the first appointment she was able to get, and I couldn’t tell her then that I didn’t really need to go …”

He watched her for a few minutes more, then picked up a pencil and glanced back down to the papers on his desk. A moment later he glanced back up and lifted his brows as if he were slightly surprised to see her still sitting there.

“Don’t worry, Mrs. Steele,” he assured her mockingly. “We’ll do our best to convince your friends that you’re married to a pure gallant and that your life is a bed of roses.”

Erin stood and left him.

Sonia had just been in to clean, so the apartment was spotless. But desperately needing something to do to keep her mind occupied, Erin began cleaning again. She made a list of extras to pick up, since they were to have guests, and made little notes to herself about supplying the extra upstairs bath with towels and soap. The one bright spot on the horizon was that Mary would be there, and if she forced herself not to think of other things, she could find pleasure in thinking of how she could play the tour guide for a change.

Jarod appeared while she sat at the dining room table making up a list of things she wanted to do with her friends.

She glanced up at him warily, but his smile was disarming. He had changed into a beige pullover sweater and stretched broad shoulders as he looked at her, working stiffness from his neck and back.

“Are you busy?” he inquired.

“Umm … not really,” Erin replied, still wary.

“Good. I need to get out. How about a late picnic?”

“Picnic?”

“Umm. We’ll go out to Lenin Hills. I don’t believe you’ve been there yet, and the view is breathtaking. Moscow Lomonosov University is there, I’m sure you’d enjoy seeing it. And there are acres and acres of gardens and recreational facilities. A lake surrounded by busts of Russian scientists. Of course, it is kind of cool, there’s snow on the ground, but the sun is out and we can find a bench and then sightsee.”

This is crazy, Erin thought. We’re snapping at one another one minute, and he’s inviting me on a picnic in the snow the next. But crazy or not, she couldn’t control the rippling thrill of anticipation that riddled through her with the thought of being with him in his curiously light mood.

“Well?”

Erin nodded slowly. “I’d enjoy going out,” she said, lowering her lashes, so he wouldn’t see just how much she would enjoy it.

“Good. I’ll run out and pick up a bottle of wine. See if you can throw some sandwiches together.”

Thirty minutes later they were following the Vorobyovskoye Highway and the hills were in sight. Jarod had taken on the role of guide, and he spoke casually and informatively as they drove. Since it was growing late, they found benches near the lake and ate, then Jarod amused her with tales about the various scientists whose sculpted heads they assessed. She was sure he invented half the stories, and was surprised to discover that he had her laughing like a young girl out on a first date.

His arm was around her shoulder as he took her to the main building of the university. One of thirty-seven structures, he told her, it was the largest. Its beautiful spire rose twelve hundred and fifty feet. She believed him when he told her the main campus building was one of the world’s most beautiful; its chandeliers and white marble columns certainly impressed her.

It was dark when they left the university. Erin leaned back against the headrest of the car, half closing her eyes while she covertly watched Jarod drive. He was marvelous when he chose to be; his, knowledge as a guide seemed to be limitless. But then, he was a Russian. No, not a Russian. An American with a Russian heritage; a man, like any other, aware of his past, knowledgeable about the customs, language, and history that had been a part of his family.

My child would be part Russian, she thought, somewhat incredulously, and then hastily reminded herself that it had all been a mistake, there was no child. But if she ever were to have one, she would like it to be a boy, and she would like to see him grow to be a man like Jarod, with a firm, responsible jaw, and rugged facial contours that were not beautiful, but etched with unyielding strength and character.

Erin closed her eyes completely. I am really in love with him, she thought sadly. I’m in love with a brick wall. And he is capable of a certain giving, but not of loving. In less than two months’ time I will be leaving him and he will very politely say good-bye and forget that I existed as a convenience or inconvenience.

She wondered just for a moment what his reaction would be if she were to knock on his den door and announce that despite the fact that he had become her jailer and that she was aware he still harbored suspicions that she might be a spy, she was in love with him. He would probably be annoyed, maybe even politely annoyed. “Oh, Lord, Erin, don’t be ridiculous. I had assumed you were more sophisticated than that.”

“Are you awake?”

Her eyes flew open. Thank God she had been only dreaming, because it had been a rather humiliating dream.

“Yes, I’m awake,” she said quickly. A brief glance showed her that they were home. At least he was home. No matter how comfortable it was becoming, it wasn’t her home.

She jumped out of the car before he could come around. He shrugged as she emerged without his aid and walked on toward the apartment door. He twisted the key, pushed the door inward, and motioned Erin ahead of him.

“Thank you for the afternoon,” she murmured with stiff nervousness, very aware of his presence behind her. “I did enjoy the university very—”

The ringing of the phone cut her off, and she turned to glance at Jarod. He shrugged and strode toward the kitchen extension. After he answered, he seemed to be doing most of the listening, but when he spoke, it was in Russian. All Erin could make out were a few
da
s and
nyet
s.

“Trouble?” she inquired as he rang off.

He nodded vaguely but his eyes were already opaque; his mind elsewhere. He slipped his arms back into the coat he had just begun to shed. “Nothing big,” he said. “I won’t be late.”

The phone began ringing again before he could leave. He went back into the kitchen to answer it once more and Erin idly followed—just in time to see his gaze become piercing upon her, his features darkly tense.

“Yes, she’s here. Just a moment.”

He passed the receiver to her.

“Who is it?” Erin inquired with a curious frown.

“Your friend.” His velvety deep voice held the rough edge of a growl. “Mr. Sayer.”

For a moment, Erin was sure that Jarod would hover by the phone to hear her conversation, but he didn’t. He thrust the phone into her hand and walked away. She heard the slamming of the front door before she could say hello. She winced at the sound. It had hurt; it had been a cruel twist within her stomach.

“Hello, Gil.”

“Hiya, gorgeous. I just wanted to let you know that I tried your friends a few more times just in case they had made the phone tape early. But they are gone. And I checked their flight. They come in at nine thirty-five on the fifteenth. If you need a ride to the airport to meet them, just let me know.”

“That’s very nice of you, Gil,” Erin murmured. “I’ll talk to Jarod and let you know.”

“Fine. Give me a call one way or the other. I like to hear that sultry voice.”

Erin forced a chuckle. “Sure, Gil. Thanks again.”

She hung up the phone feeling slightly unnerved. The day had been so pleasant, and it had all been ruined with the phone call. She sighed. There was no help for it. Gil was just trying to be nice.

Erin shed her coat and trudged her way up the staircase. It had been cold out once it had turned dark; she could still feel the chill. A warm bath might in some way help.

With time on her hands, she soaked a long while, then washed her hair and studiously dried it. It was near nine when she finished, and she thought she would hurry down for a cup of tea. In the mood in which Jarod had left, she didn’t want to take a chance on being up when he returned.

With the tea running warm in her veins, she hurried back upstairs and doffed her robe to slide between the sheets in a long satin gown. But of course she couldn’t sleep. It was barely nine thirty. Even when she had five
A.M.
calls, she didn’t go to bed this early.

But she wanted so desperately to sleep. It had been an ungodly confusing day. The trauma of the morning she still refused to accept, and then the pleasantness of the afternoon had been shattered by Gil’s simple phone call. She wanted to forget for a while, forget that she was forcing herself not to think while also telling herself that soon she would have to face facts.

She had fallen asleep, because the sound of the door swinging open and banging against the wall was sharp and startling, tensing her with fear. From a comfortable field of soft and easing mist she came to instant alertness.

For a moment she could see him silhouetted in the doorway, tall, his shoulders broad, filling the space as he stood braced in the rectangle of dim yellow. Then his arm moved, and the bedroom light flared. Erin blinked furiously at the cruel intrusion upon her eyes while fumbling to sit up in the bed. He stared at her a moment while she watched him, his features fathomless, his eyes both searingly intent and shielded by that infinite blue frost flame.