Victoria sighed. “All right. I’ll play dumb.”
“Thank you,” Harry said, glaring at her.
“My pleasure,” Victoria said, glaring back. “What’s the second concern?”
Harry lost his train of thought again. Those soft brown eyes really sparkled when she glared. There was a lot of fire in Victoria. How the hell was she ever going to play dumb enough to fool Bond?
“Harry,” Victoria repeated. “What’s the second concern?”
“What?”
“You said you had two concerns,” Victoria said, speaking slowly and clearly. “What … is … the … second … concern?”
“Oh,” Harry said. “Bond finds out you’re a setup and gets rid of you.”
Victoria swallowed. “What exactly do you mean by ‘gets rid of’?”
Harry’s uneasiness solidified into frank doubt; he must have been out of his mind to think about involving Victoria in this. She could get hurt. The whole plan was out of the question. “Bond’s never hurt anyone before, but we’ve got a hell of a lot on him. If we get him now, he won’t see the outside again for some time. And even con men have been known to get violent when facing a lot of prison time—”
“Oh,” Victoria said.
“—which is why I think this is a dumb idea,” Harry went on as if she hadn’t spoken. “I don’t think this will work. I think we’d better count you out.” He got up to go, relieved.
Victoria stayed seated. “Wait a minute. If I don’t do it, who will? You?”
“No.” Harry shook his head. “Nobody’d believe I’m a college professor. Alec can carry it by himself. He and that Banks woman are going to dinner with you anyway. Just let him handle it.”
“But then Alec might get hurt,” Victoria said.
“Well, it is his job,” Harry pointed out. “It wouldn’t be the first time he’s taken a risk.”
“It wouldn’t?” Victoria said, visibly appalled. “I thought all he did was investigate fraud, like some sort of accountant-avenger. I thought the worst that could happen in his job was a paper cut.”
“Uh, no,” Harry said.
Victoria bit her lip. “I’ll do it. I can’t let Alec take all the risk.”
Harry’s heart sank. “Sure you can. It’s his job.”
“No.” Victoria’s voice was firm. “This will work a lot better if I do it. And you and Alec will be around all the time. How much danger can I be in?”
“I don’t know,” Harry said. “Any is too much.”
“Why, Harry.” Victoria smiled at him. “That’s really sweet of you.”
“The hell it is.” Harry scowled at her, resisting that smile with every ounce of self-protecting skepticism he could muster. “Do you know how much trouble I’d be in if a civilian got bumped off while working undercover for me? I’m only seven years away from full retirement. I don’t need this.”
“Harry, do you really loathe me as much as you seem to?” Victoria asked, and Harry was caught flatfooted.
“No,” he said. “What? No. What are you talking about?”
“You look at me as if I’m something that’s going to bite.” She looked up at him, sweet, confused, puzzled, adorable—
Harry caught himself. The hell she was adorable. She was manipulating him. “You know damn well what’s going on here,” he blustered. “Business. And if you’re going to play games, you’re out.”
“I never play games.” Victoria stood up. “I just wanted to know where I stood with you.”
Too close, that’s where she stood. She was close enough that if he leaned forward, those soft white curls would tickle his cheek. He took a step back. “Right where you are is fine,” he said. “If you’re going through with this, get dressed.”
The phone rang a little after seven, and Dennie draped herself across the bed to pick it up. “Hello?”
“Banks, is that you?”
“Hello, Taylor,” Dennie said. “What do you want?”
“What the hell have you been doing?”
“What are you talking about?” Dennie made a face at the phone. “I’m on vacation. Leave me alone.”
“The hell you are. You’re doing something because I’ve got about forty people on my butt warning me what they’re going to do if you don’t stay away from Janice Meredith. What the hell are you harassing a feminist for, anyway?”
Dennie froze, visions of her scoop disappearing before her eyes. If an ignoramus like Taylor had heard about it … “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You’ve been chasing her around some hotel lobby and watching her eat.”
Dennie closed her eyes. Janice had set the bloodhounds on her even though she’d stayed away from her. This was one angry woman. “I just tried to talk to her. That’s all, I swear.”
“Well, stop it. She’s got a lot of powerful friends. I mean it. If I get any more calls, you’re fired.”
Fired? Dennie’s stomach did a fast plummet. She couldn’t afford to get fired. She had to stay employed long enough to save enough money to quit. Walter’s dog biscuits were not cheap. He’s bluffing, she told herself. “Boy, Taylor, you really know how to back your reporters. Definitely a Pulitzer Prize–winning spine you’ve got there.”
Taylor’s voice rose to its usual shriek. “I didn’t send you out on any Janice Meredith story, and I’ll be damned if I’ll take the heat for you for nothing. Now lay off or you’re fired! Got it?”
Dennie swallowed. “Gotcha, Taylor. You’re a real pro.” She hung up on him, chilled by his threat. Journalism jobs weren’t all that easy to get or she’d have jumped Taylor’s ship a long time ago. And there was no doubt he’d fire her in a second if he thought his own job was in any danger. But she couldn’t give up the interview; it was going to be too good. And it was a whole lot more than a story now, anyway; it was a quest. Something she had to do to prove she really was good, really was gutsy and brave and intelligent and—
Employed. Employed was necessary. How could she get this story without losing her job? Stick with Alec, she thought. Not even Janice Meredith could get her fired for dating an old friend’s nephew.
Could she?
Sure, she could, but Alec was Dennie’s only hope. If she was careful, surely she could get Victoria to support her. Surely Janice would understand. Dennie winced and decided thinking about doing risky things was counterproductive. She should just dive straight in. Patience would. When they were little kids out on her uncle’s farm in the summers, Patience was always the first one to jump into the pond. She’d stand on the ledge on the far side and yell, “Come on, Dennie,” and Dennie would dip a toe in the shallow end and shake her head. Only after an hour of yelling and coaxing on Patience’s part and watching and doubting on Dennie’s part would Dennie actually stand on the ledge. “Come on, Dennie,” Patience would repeat, the living embodiment of her name. “I’ll catch you. Jump. It’s great!” And Dennie would hold her nose and jump, and it would be great, except for the time she skinned her knee on a rock by jumping crooked, or the time she scraped her toe on the ledge and it bled, or the time she broke her arm—
But Patience had always been there to catch her. And now she wasn’t. Patience was on her honeymoon so she wouldn’t even be available for bail if Janice got Dennie arrested. A smart woman would pack her bags and head back to Taylor and safety.
Even while she had the thought, Dennie knew she wasn’t going back. Before, she’d been doing a too-easy job without realizing it. Now, she knew. If she went back without the interview, she’d be a failure, even if it was only to herself and Walter. She had to go on, even if she lost her job. Even if she got arrested for stalking. Even if Patience wasn’t there. She was going to have to jump.
“Right,” she said and went to get dressed, but her fingers fumbled with the zipper, and she finally leaned her head against the mirror and took deep breaths until she was reasonably calm again.
Risking was turning out to be a very depressing business.
> While Victoria was in the bathroom dressing, Harry unpacked the briefcase, arranging the equipment on the desk so that when she came back everything would be ready. Now that she was gone, he noticed her perfume faintly. It wasn’t flowery at all, more spicy with a hint of something else. It made him nervous, and he fiddled with a microphone until one of the pieces dropped off. Damn good thing he always had spares. Cautious, that was him. Nothing to worry about. He was in control.
Victoria came out of the bathroom and said, “All right, how do we do this?”
Her dress was made of a rosy slippery material that sort of fell over her, Harry noticed. He also noticed that Victoria was trim in some places and full in others; this was a dress that didn’t leave much to the imagination.
He shook his head, trying to stomp on his own imagination. “Nope.”
“What do you mean, ‘nope’?” Victoria put her hands on her hips. “This is a great dress.”
“You can see everything in that dress,” Harry said.
“So what are you, my mother?” Victoria asked.
“No,” Harry said. “I’m the man who has to hide stereo equipment on you. Got anything that doesn’t fit like Saran Wrap?”
Victoria slid open the closet door. “Be my guest.”
Harry went to paw through her clothes. Her perfume wafted out of the closet as he shoved hangers back and forth. She brought more clothes for a weekend in a hotel than he had in his closet back home. That was a woman for you. Good thing he didn’t have to share a closet with her. He clamped down on his thoughts again. “Here,” he said finally, pulling a heavy jacket and skirt out, and Victoria looked at him as if he were insane.
“Harry, that’s a day suit. It’s seven-thirty in the evening. I can’t wear a tweed suit to dinner. He would think I was strange.”
“Lots of people wear tweed suits to dinner at night,” Harry said.
“Yes, and they’re all men.”
“No, they’re not,” Harry began, and Victoria put her hand on his arm and moved him to one side so she could slide hangers back and forth. He checked his sleeve to see if her hand had left a mark; it felt as if it had left a mark.
“How about this?” She pulled out a black dress.
Harry felt the fabric. “Don’t you wear anything stiff?”
“No,” Victoria said. “I’m against stiff.” She grinned. “In fabric anyway.”
Harry handed her the dress. “Go put this on and don’t talk dirty.”
“You know you have a lot in common with my mother,” Victoria said, but she took the dress back in the bathroom with her.
When she was gone, Harry told himself she was impossible. Then he grinned in spite of himself.
When she came out, the black dress was draped looser, but it was also lower in front and back so a lot more Victoria showed.
“I don’t know,” Harry said, trying to look someplace there wasn’t skin.
“Harry, just wire me up. We’re running out of time here.”
Harry stared at her dress, frowning. How the hell was he going to get everything taped and hidden in that dress?
Finally, Victoria said, “What?”
“I’m used to taping this onto guys in shirts,” he said. “I guess I’ll just tape this lower.”
Victoria’s eyebrows went up. “Tape?”
Harry grinned. “What are you worried about? A little tape? Hell, if you had chest hair, you’d have something to worry about.”
“Chest hair?”
“It really hurts when you rip tape off chest hair.”
Victoria crossed her arms and glared at him until he relented.
“We’ll tape the microphone to your … uh, ribs,” he said. “You can do that part. The transmitter goes to your side, sort of. Really, it’s no big deal.”
“All right,” Victoria said. “What do I do first?”
“Unzip your dress,” Harry said.
“Why, Harry,” Victoria said. “You impetuous fool.”
“God knows how you’ve lived this long without somebody killing you,” Harry said. “Will you just unzip?”
“Your technique needs work,” Victoria said, but she turned around and unzipped her dress.
Harry watched the zipper slide down showing a lot of Victoria’s creamy flesh, some of it covered with black lace. “You can stop,” he said, trying to keep his voice from cracking. “That’s far enough.” He picked up the microphone. “This is the mike. Tape this under your … ribs on the right side, not too near your heart.” He held out the mike to her.
She turned around. “Harry, this is dumb. We’re two adults, doing a job. You’d see more of me in a bathing suit.” She made a swift shrugging motion with her shoulders, and the top of her dress fell off over her arms, and she stood there, curvy and warm in black lace, and Harry told himself not to have a heart attack. “Just tape it where you want it,” she said, and he forced his mind back to the technical problem at hand.
“Don’t undress in front of men, Vic,” he said to cover his confusion. “It’s dangerous.”
“Vic?”
Harry tried not to look at her. “Got it from Alec. It suits you better than Victoria. Victoria’s feminine.” And so was she, standing there in front of him, half dressed. If he worked with her much longer, he’d lose his mind.
Victoria glared at him. “Thank you.”
He ripped a strip of the tape off with a lot more force than was necessary and pressed the microphone to the lace under her right breast, trying very hard not to linger there any longer than he absolutely had to. It took him a lot longer than he thought it would. Then he taped the wire around the curve of her back and fastened the transmitter over her right hip. He smoothed the tape against the lace that was warm from her flesh and cursed steadily under his breath the whole time.
“There,” he snarled finally. “Put your dress back on.”
She was unusually silent as she dressed, and he felt ashamed. “Uh, I’m sorry,” he said. “Listen, don’t worry about tonight. I’ll be listening from the kitchen. I’ll be there.”
“Good,” she said. “I have to put my makeup on now. Maybe you’d better go.”
“Makeup?” he said, puzzled. “You look great. You don’t need any more makeup.”
“Go away,” Victoria said. “I’ll see you downstairs.”
“No, you won’t,” Harry said. “I’ll be in the kitchen.” But he left anyway, delighted to be out of danger and feeling curiously bereft and annoyed at the same time.
Dangerous woman, that Vic.
When Harry was gone, Victoria sat down for a moment to try to gather the thoughts that Harry had sent south when he touched her.
Because Harry was definitely not someone she wanted to be thinking about the way she was thinking about him. All right, sure, he was big and broad, and he had nice hands, well, great hands, and he was fun to tease, and he wasn’t boring at all, but still …
Harry?
There was no way. She’d worked all her life to get where she was now, carefully choosing the right men who wouldn’t get in the way of her career and just as carefully kissing them good-bye when it turned out she’d misjudged them. And now she was at the top of her field, tenured, respected. People were making noises about the college presidency, how perfect she’d be for the job. Harry would not fit in.
Victoria thought about Harry in the middle of the college political circuit and smiled in spite of herself. Harry would probably do damn well there. In fact, she couldn’t imagine any place Harry wouldn’t do damn well. That was one of the many things she found so attractive about him. That and his shoulders and his hands and—
Oh, hell, she thought. I’m sixty-two years old, and I’m still falling for the wrong men. When will I learn?
Then she put Harry firmly from her mind and went to finish her makeup.
When Alec found Harry in the hotel kitchen, he was hunched over the recorder, snarling about Victoria.
“Aunt Vic can handle this,” Alec told hi
m. “This guy isn’t dangerous. There’s no problem.”
“She’ll spook him.” Harry was even grouchier than usual. “That woman is a mental case. She’ll get herself killed.”
Alec frowned at him, bewildered. “Will you relax? She’s the smartest woman I know. She didn’t get to the top of her profession by being nuts.”
“I don’t like it,” Harry grouched. “And as far as I’m concerned, she is nuts. Can’t you control her?”
Alec laughed. “Control Aunt Vic? Good luck. The best you can do is aim her. Will you relax?” Harry snarled again, and Alec gave up. “I have to go meet Dennie,” he said. “Try not to chew on the tape recorder during dinner. It’s government issue.”
Alec almost missed Dennie when she got off the elevator. She was wearing a black linen dress with a standup collar and long sleeves, and she’d pulled her hair back in a knot on her neck. “What is this?” he asked her as she came toward the gilt chairs where he was sitting. “You dressing for the convent now?”
Dennie looked uncertain for the first time since he’d met her. “Sorry. I’m trying to look serious and trustworthy.” The lilt was gone from her voice, and she seemed diminished somehow.
“Hey, it’s all right.” Alec stood up, alarmed. “I’m sorry. Really. Come on, fight back here. Don’t go all weak on me.”
“Things aren’t going well for me,” Dennie said. “My boss yelled at me. I’m a little depressed. Give me a minute.”
Her boss had yelled? That rat Bond. She looked crushed, and Alec hated it. It was going to be a pleasure to arrest him. “Come here.” Alec took her hand and pulled her down beside him.
“I remember these chairs.” Dennie looked around as she sank into one. “I was threatened with arrest here yesterday.”
“Arrest?” Alec felt his heart skip a beat. Was somebody else after her too? It took him a moment to realize that he wasn’t afraid somebody else would get his collar, it was that if somebody else moved in on Bond, he wouldn’t be able to protect her. Just when he’d decided to protect her, he wasn’t certain, but the idea had him in full grip now.