“How old were you when you left there?”
He thought about it. “I guess I was eight when I started at the polo club. I was kicked out of the job when I was twelve.”
“Why?”
“The cook said I’d stolen three cases of caviar and sold it on the black market.”
“Did you?”
“No, he did it himself, but I was a convenient target. Actually, he was very clever to choose me.” His tone was coolly objective. “I was the most vulnerable. I had no one to protect me and I wasn’t capable of protecting myself.”
“You don’t seem angry about it.”
“It’s over. It taught me a valuable lesson. I was never that vulnerable again and I learned to keep what was mine.”
“What happened to you after you left? Did you have somewhere to go?”
“The streets.” He put down the brush and patted the horse’s nose. “The lessons I learned there were even more valuable, but you wouldn’t want to hear about them.” He left the stall and closed the half-door. “Or maybe you would. Quite a few of them dealt with dirty tricks and mayhem.”
She could not even imagine what it would be like surviving on the streets, and he had been only a boy at the time.
He glanced at her and shook his head. “You’re looking at me like you do Peter. Soft as butter.”
She quickly looked away. “It’s not soft to hate abusive treatment of children. You hate it yourself.”
“I don’t melt at the thought.”
“I’m not melting.”
“Close enough. Look, not all children are like Jill. I was a tough, self-serving, little bastard with nasty claws.” He met her gaze. “You think you’ve changed, but you’re still too soft. Soft means malleable and malleable means dead.”
“Then I’ll get over it.” She started toward the door. “Michaela will be upset if her lunch gets cold.”
“We wouldn’t want that to happen.” He fell into step with her. “How are you getting along with her?”
“Well enough. She’s letting me sketch her.” She grimaced. “As long as I don’t get in her way.”
“How does it feel?”
“Good.” She glanced at him. “But it’s not going to cause me to find a cozy little corner and forget everything.”
“It may help. It’s all part of the big picture.”
“I spent three hours sketching today. That means you owe me.”
A corner of his lip lifted in a sardonic smile as he held open the front door for her. “That’s what this is all about.”
She shook her head. He was a strange mixture—cool, tough, and yet possessing a code that included both a sense of responsibility and justice. It was remarkable in a man of his background.
But then, Tanek was a remarkable man.
You look at him.
Michaela’s words rushed back to her, and again she felt that bolt of shock at the thought of intimacy with Tanek. It was a stupid reaction. Admitting Tanek was extraordinary didn’t mean she wanted to jump into bed with him. There was no room in her life for sex with any man, and if she didn’t want to be friends with Tanek, she certainly didn’t want him in her bed. All he meant to her was a way to get to Maritz, and that’s the way it would stay. She didn’t even know why she had questioned him about his past. The less she knew about him, the better.
No, that wasn’t true. She had questioned him because she had been curious about the elements that had shaped a man like Tanek. Curiosity was a normal and acceptable trait. She found she was still curious, when a sudden thought occurred to her. “The cook who got you fired. Did you ever meet him again?”
“Oh, yes, I met him again.”
Tanek smiled.
Eleven
No one was following her.
It was only her imagination, Tania told herself. She was being an idiot.
But relief flooded her as she pulled into the driveway.
Home. Safety.
She sat there for a moment, her gaze on the rearview mirror. The only car that drove by was a day care van loaded with kids.
See, she was being paranoid. This was Minneapolis, not Sarajevo. She got out of the car, popped open the trunk, and took out the first bag of groceries.
“Let me carry that for you.”
She jumped and whirled.
Phil was coming up the driveway. “Sorry. Did I scare you?”
“I wasn’t expecting you.”
Phil took the sack from Tania, grabbed the other two in the trunk, and closed the lid with his elbow. “You should have called me.”
“I thought I could manage.” Tania smiled at him as she started up the driveway toward the house. “And, besides, that’s not your job.”
“Keep me busy. Now that the summer’s over, I don’t have enough to do with the garden.” He grimaced. “I don’t know why I’m here anyway now that Nell is in Idaho with Nicholas.”
“You’re a great help to us.” She didn’t look at him as she unlocked the front door. “Did … Nicholas tell you to watch out for me?”
He frowned. “What do you mean? He said to wait here until he contacted me and help out with anything you asked me to do.”
“But not to follow me and keep an eye on me?”
“No.” His gaze narrowed on her face. “Some creep been following you?”
“No.” She entered the foyer and led him toward the kitchen. “It’s probably my imagination. I haven’t actually seen anyone. It’s just a feeling. Why would anyone want to watch me?”
He grinned and gave a low whistle. “Who wouldn’t?” He sobered. “But there are a lot of weirdos wandering around. You can’t be too careful these days. Suppose I go with you next time you run your errands?”
She shook her head. “I’d feel foolish. It’s my imagination.”
“So what?” He set the bags on the counter. “It will give me something to do.”
“We’ll see.” She started to unload a bag. “But I thank you for the offer.”
He hesitated, staring at her, before moving toward the door. “You and Dr. Lieber have been great to me. I don’t like the idea of you worrying. Just give me a holler if you want company.”
She smiled affectionately as she watched the door close behind him. Phil had become an integral part of their lives in the past few weeks. He happily drifted around, chopping wood, washing the cars, puttering in the garden. It gave her a warm feeling to see him look up and wave as he worked in the garden.
Her smile faded as she tossed an empty bag into the recycling bin. She hadn’t thought Nicholas would assign Phil to watch her. Why should he? Nell was the one in danger, and Nell was not here. This was America. There were no snipers waiting in the ruins to butcher the unwary.
But her instincts had been honed to acuteness by those years of wariness, and America was not the safe haven she had always thought it to be. Bombings and murders happened here too.
And she had felt those eyes on her.
Maybe she should let Phil come with her when she left the house.
Yes, sure, she thought in self-disgust. She would start classes at the university next week. Was she to let the poor man sit outside and wait for her, twiddling his thumbs because her instincts were screaming? Maybe she was having a flashback to Sarajevo. Memories and experiences were supposed to linger in the back of your mind. It could be she was—
She shook her head and put it firmly from her mind. She would play the situation as she saw it, as she always had done. When it was time to leave the house, she would make a decision about asking Phil to accompany her. She didn’t have to worry now. She was safe in this house, where she had made a nest for herself.
She thought she was safe, Maritz thought. The Vlados woman was inside Lieber’s house, feeling smug and un-threatened.
He scooched down in the seat of the car and reached for the Big Mac he had picked up on the way to the house. It was good being in control, to set his own pace. No need to watch her every minute. Nell Calder wasn’t a
t the house now.
But she had been there. He had questioned Lieber’s neighbors and she had been seen.
At least, he thought it was her. Nell Calder had not been the beauty they had described, but Lieber was a brilliant surgeon and listed on the hospital records as Nell Calder’s attending physician. Why have a plastic surgeon, if not to change your face?
He bit into the sandwich and chewed with enjoyment.
He would soon have to resolve the Calder question. Though he wasn’t really worried about it. If she had been here, there was a good chance either the doctor or his housekeeper knew where she was now. What they knew, they would tell. He would have taken action sooner, but Lieber wasn’t like the funeral director. It wouldn’t be easy not to cause ripples if he removed Lieber and Vlados from the scene. It would do no harm to give it another week or so and see if Calder popped up at the house.
Besides, he was enjoying watching Tania Vlados. On the second day he had discovered to his joy and astonishment that she sensed his presence. He had made no mistakes, but she still knew he was there. He could read it in the line of her back, the quick look over her shoulder, the jerkiness of her stride.
It had been a long time since he had stalked a prey. Gardeaux always insisted on a quick, efficient kill. Get in, get out. He didn’t understand the pleasure of the hunt, the fear of the victim that was almost as intoxicating as the kill itself.
He finished the Big Mac and tossed the wrapper in the bag. He would give it another half hour before driving by the house and checking it out. She wouldn’t be leaving again anytime soon.
She felt safe inside the house.
Nell hit the floor hard.
“Get up,” Nicholas said. “Fast. Never stay down. You’re vulnerable when you’re down.”
Fast? She couldn’t breathe, much less move. The gym was whirling around her.
“Get up.”
She got up … slowly.
“You’d have been dead a second after you hit the mat,” Nicholas said. He gestured for her to come at him again. “Come on.”
She scowled at him. “Don’t you think you should teach me how to defend myself first?”
“No, I’m teaching you what to do when you’re down. It’s going to happen sometime no matter how good you get at this. You have to learn how to relax and become boneless so that you’re not hurt when you hit the ground. Then you have to roll to avert a hit and bounce to your feet.”
“I want to learn how to fight back. Is this the usual method?”
“Probably not. But it’s my method. Rush me.”
She rushed him.
He threw her down on the mat and straddled her. “If I were Maritz, I’d drive the ball of my hand up underneath your nose and send the bone splinters into your brain.”
She glared up at him. He was trying to make her feel as helpless and ineffectual as possible. “No, you wouldn’t.”
“You think he’d be merciful? Forget it.”
“No, you said Maritz liked to use a knife. If he had me down, why would he waste the opportunity?”
Surprise flickered across his face before it hardened. “Either way, you’re dead.”
“Today. Tomorrow I’ll do better. And the day after that I’ll be better still.”
He gazed down at her for a long while, his expression reflecting a mixture of emotions she couldn’t define. “I know you will.” His knuckles were curiously gentle as they brushed the line of her cheek. “Damn you.”
She was suddenly aware of the dominance of his position, the muscular control of his thighs, the power of his hands pinning her wrists to the mat. The scent of sweat and soap surrounding him enveloped her too. It was … disconcerting. She glanced away from him. “Then let me up and we’ll start again.”
For an instant she felt a tightening of his thigh muscles against her hips. Then he was off her, on his feet. He reached down and pulled her to her feet. “Not today.”
Her eyes widened in shock. “What do you mean? We’ve barely begun.”
“We made a hell of a lot more progress than I planned.” He started toward the door. “No more today.”
“You promised me. You owe me.”
He glanced over his shoulder. “Then chalk it on the debit side. I’m sure you’re keeping score. Go take a hot bath to ease the bruising. Same time tomorrow.”
Her hands clenched into fists with frustration as the door slammed behind him. He had made her feel helpless and then left her before she could regain a sense of her own strength. Maybe that was going to be his strategy. Maybe he thought if he constantly discouraged and undermined her, she would give up.
But his departure had been too abrupt. She had an idea he had not meant to curtail the session.
It didn’t matter whether he had meant to do it or not. He was gone and the morning was wasted. She must not let it happen. She would go after him and—
What? Drag him back? Arguing wouldn’t help her. She would just have to do as he said and chalk up this day as a loss and hope he would keep his promise tomorrow.
An hour later she was wondering if she’d be in any shape to face him tomorrow. She gingerly slipped into the hot water and leaned against the curved back of the tub. The muscles of her shoulders and back were sore and stiffening more with every passing minute. She had a livid bruise on her hip, another on her left thigh, and five purple marks on her right forearm, where his hand had grasped her.
No one could say Tanek didn’t leave his stamp on a woman, she thought ruefully. Every time he’d touched her today, he’d hurt her.
Except that moment when he’d brushed his knuckles against her cheek. He hadn’t hurt her then.
But even that moment of gentleness had been unsettling.
Forget it. She closed her eyes and let the warmth of the water flow into her. Forget everything but preparing herself for tomorrow.
“Ready to begin?” Tanek motioned for her to come at him. “Let’s go.”
She stood looking at him. His face was without expression. “You’re not going to cut it short again?”
“No way. But you’ll wish I would before it’s over.”
She rushed him.
He flipped her over and down on the mat. “Don’t stiffen. Boneless. When you hit, roll and on your feet.”
Don’t stiffen, she told herself as she struggled to her feet. Don’t stiffen.
Easy to say. When you were flying through the air, tensing the muscles was as natural as breathing.
At the end of an hour she was so limp with weariness that she no longer tensed any part of her body.
He stood over her. “Shall we stop?”
“No.” She struggled to her feet, swaying. “Again.”
At the end of another thirty minutes of work, he picked her up, carried her to her room, and dropped her on the bed. He said roughly, “Remind me not to let you call the shots again. You’d go on until I killed you.”
He left the room.
She would rest for a moment and then force herself to get into the tub. God, she hurt. She closed her eyes. Tomorrow she would remember not to stiffen when she fell. Tomorrow she would roll and get to her feet …
Something cold and wet was pressing against her hand that was hanging off the bed.
She opened her eyes.
Sam. He must have followed Tanek into the room and gotten shut in.
“Do you want out?” she asked. “You’ll have to wait a minute until I can move. I’m not in very good shape.”
The German shepherd looked at her for a moment and then lay down on the floor beside the bed.
Acceptance. He knew about pain and wanted to comfort her.
She reached a tentative hand down to stroke his head.
The next day, she didn’t stiffen with the toss, but she couldn’t force herself to spring to her feet.
The day after, she rolled during the first few falls but fell apart when the exhaustion hit her.
The third day she managed to relax, roll, and get to her f
eet. She felt as if she’d painted a masterpiece. It was coming together!
“Good,” Tanek said. “Do it again.”
She didn’t do it again for another two days. He made sure the falls were harder, the pace faster.
She spent two hours a day in the gym, but it might have been twenty-four. When she wasn’t there, she was thinking about it, preparing herself mentally and physically for the next time she faced Tanek. She continued sketching, she talked to Michaela, she ate, she slept, but everything was unreal. She felt as if she were existing in a cocoon with nothing in the world but the dominant figure of Tanek, the gym, and the falls.
But she was growing stronger, more agile, faster. Soon Tanek would no longer be able to totally dominate her.
Tanek heard the sound of light footsteps pass his door.
Nell had left her room. The dream again.
Tanek rolled over on his back on the bed and stared into the darkness.
Tania had told him about the nightmares, but knowing and watching Nell try to survive them was not the same. He had followed her a few times but had not let her become aware of his presence. Not after he’d caught a glimpse of her tear-stained face. She wouldn’t want him to see her weakness.
She would go to the living room and curl up on the couch and look up at the Delacroix or wander to the window and stare out at the mountains. She would stay an hour, sometimes two, before returning to her room.
Did she sleep when she went back to bed?
Precious little, he’d bet. She never appeared fully rested, always balanced on a fine, nervous thread.
Yet it never interfered with her determination or endurance. No matter how many times he hurt her, she came back for more. Strength of spirit and indomitable courage, wrapped in that beautiful fragile package. When she made a mistake, she learned from it. No matter how tired or bruised, she endured.
She endured his hardness, his brutality, his indifference to her pain.
God, he wished she’d go back to bed.