Sweet Revenge (51 page)

She knew she was being followed. She’d spotted the tail the day before. Her father’s handiwork, she was certain, though she hadn’t mentioned it to Philip. The necklace was her insurance.

Philip would be at his meeting with Spencer by now. There was some secret there, she mused. He’d been distracted when they’d gone their separate ways that afternoon. Actually, he’d been distracted from the moment Spencer had called to say he’d arrived.

Not her business, she reminded herself. Hadn’t she just finished telling Celeste that she and Philip had an agreement? If he had secrets, or problems with his superior, he was entitled to his privacy. But she wished—couldn’t help but wish—that he had confided in her.

She saw the long black limo outside her building. It wasn’t an unusual sight, but her heart began to hammer. Somehow she knew even before the door opened who would step out.

Abdu had exchanged his
throbe
for a business suit, his
sandals for good Italian leather, but he still wore the headdress of his country. They stood watching each other in silence.

“Come with me.”

She eyed the man beside him, knowing he would be armed, knowing he would obey without question any command from his king. Fury might make Abdu want to have her shot on the street, but he wasn’t a fool.

“I think it best you come with me.” She turned her back on him and held her breath as she walked into the building. “Leave your man outside,” she said as she felt him behind her. “This is between the two of us.”

They stepped onto the elevator. If anyone had looked, they would have seen a handsome, distinguished man in a dark chesterfield and a young woman, obviously his daughter, in mink. Some might have noted what a stunning picture they made before the elevator doors closed them in.

She was hot. It had nothing to do with the heat of the building or the warmth of her fur. It wasn’t fear, though she was well aware his hands were strong enough to choke her before they’d reached the top floor. It wasn’t even triumph, not yet, but merely anticipation of the moment she’d waited for so long.

“You got my letter.” Though he didn’t answer, she tilted her head to look at him. “I sent you another years ago. You didn’t come then. Apparently the necklace is worth more than my mother’s life.”

“I could have you taken back to Jaquir. You would be grateful to have only your hands severed.”

“You have no hold over me.” She stepped out as the doors opened. “Not anymore. I loved you once, and feared you more. Now even the fear’s gone.”

She opened the door of her apartment and saw that his men had already been there. Cushions were slashed, tables upturned, drawers tossed out. It was more than a search, more personal, more vindictive. Fury leapt out and into her eyes.

“Did you think I would keep it here?” She moved into the room, skirting the rubble. “I’ve waited much too long to make it simple for you.” She was expecting the blow and managed to step back enough so that it glanced off her cheek. “Touch me again,” she said evenly, “and you’ll never see it. I swear to you.”

He clenched his hands at his sides. “You will return what belongs to me.”

She took off her coat to toss it aside. The Chinese box lay broken at her feet, but it had done its work. The necklace was once more in a vault. This time in a New York bank. “I have nothing that belongs to you. What I have belonged to my mother, and now to me. That is the law of Islam, the law of Jaquir, the law of the king.” Her eyes were a mirror of his. “Do you defy the law?”

“I am the law. The Sun and the Moon belongs to Jaquir and to me, not to the daughter of a whore.”

Adrianne walked over to the portrait of her mother that had been ripped from the wall and thrown aside. Carefully, she righted it so that the glorious face was turned toward him. She waited until he looked, and saw, and remembered.

“It belonged to the wife of a king, before God and before the law.” She crossed back to him. “It was you who stole—her necklace, her honor, and in the end, her life. I swore I would take it back, and I have. I swore you would pay, and you will.”

“It is like a woman to lust after stones.” He gripped her arm, fingers digging. “You have no knowledge of their true value, their true meaning.”

“As well as you,” she said, and managed to pry free. “Perhaps better than you. Do you think I care about the diamond, about the pearl?” With a sound of disgust she whirled away from him. “It was the gift of it that mattered to her, and the betrayal when you took it away and usurped her. She didn’t care about the necklace, about the cut, the color, the carats. It mattered only that you’d given it in love and taken it in hate.”

He hated having the portrait there, staring at him, reminding him. “I was mad when I gave it, sane when I took it back. If you want to live, you will bring it to me.”

“Another death on your hands?” She moved her shoulders as if it mattered no more to her than to him. “If I die, it dies with me.” She waited until she was certain he believed her. “Yes, you see I mean what I say. I’ve been prepared to die for this. If I do, I’ll still have revenge. But I’d prefer to avoid that. You can take it back to Jaquir, but not without a price.”

“I will take it back, and the price will be yours to pay.”

She turned to him. This was her father, yet she felt nothing. Thank God this time she felt nothing. “I’ve spent most of my life hating you.” She said it calmly, flatly, her voice a mirror of her emotions. “You know how she suffered, how she died.” She waited, watching his eyes. “Yes, you would know. Pain, torment, grief, confusion. I watched her die a little year by year. Knowing that you should understand there’s nothing you can do to me that could matter.”

“Perhaps not, but you are not alone.”

She went pale, pleasing him. “If you harm Philip, I’ll see you dead. I swear it, and The Sun and the Moon’s only home will be in the bottom of the sea.”

“So he matters to you.”

“More than you’re capable of understanding.” With her throat tight, she played her final card. “But even he doesn’t know where the necklace is. Only I know. You deal with me, and only me, Abdu. I promise you the value I put on your honor will be far below the value of my mother’s life.”

He raised his fist this time. Adrianne braced just as the door slammed shut. “You lay a hand on her again, and I’ll kill you.” Even as Adrianne stumbled back, Philip had Abdu by the lapels.

“No, don’t.” Panicked, she grabbed Philip’s arm and pulled. “Don’t. He didn’t hit me.”

He spared her a brief glance. “There’s blood on your lip.”

“It’s nothing. I—”

“Not this time, Addy.” He said it very calmly an instant before he rammed his fist into Abdu’s jaw. The king went down, taking a Queen Anne table with him. The sting in Philip’s knuckles gave him more satisfaction than holding a hundred rare stones. “That was for the bruise you put on her face.” He waited until Abdu had pulled himself onto the torn couch. “For the rest you owe her, I’d have to kill you, but she doesn’t want you dead. So I’ll say this, there are ways to maim a man. I’m sure you’re aware. Think of them and think of them carefully before you raise your hand to her again.”

Abdu wiped the blood from his mouth. He was breathing heavily, not from pain but from humiliation. Not since the day he’d become king had he been struck, or touched unless he had granted permission. “You are a dead man.”

“I think not. Your two goons outside are already answering
a few questions of my associate as to why they’re carrying concealed weapons. That’s Captain Stuart Spencer of Interpol I neglected to mention I worked for Interpol, didn’t I?” He glanced around. “We’d better fire that housekeeper, Adrianne. I could do with a brandy. Would you mind hunting some up?”

She’d never seen him look like this. She’d never heard his voice carry this edge. She hadn’t been afraid of Abdu, but she was afraid of Philip at this moment. And afraid for him. “Philip—”

“Please.” He touched a hand to her cheek. “Do this for me.”

“All right. I’ll just be a minute.”

He waited until she was out of the room, then sat on the arm of a chair.

“In Jaquir you would not live to see the sun set, and you would praise God when you died.”

“You’re a bastard, Abdu. The fact that your blood’s blue doesn’t make you less of one.” He let out a long breath. “Now that the pleasantries are over, I want to start off saying that I don’t give a damn about your ways, not here. What I feel for or about you at the moment doesn’t matter either. This is business. Before we get down to it, I’d like to explain the rules to you.”

“I have no business with you, Chamberlain.”

“Whatever else you are, you’re not a stupid man. I don’t have to detail the reasons for Addy taking the necklace. You should know that the plan was hers. I came in on it only during the last stages, and though it bruises the pride to admit it, she could have carried it off alone. She slipped it out from under your nose, and it’s to her you’ll make payment.” He paused a moment. “But it’s to me you’ll answer if any harm comes to her. I should add that if you’ve any thought of making a deal, then having our throats quietly slit, Interpol already has the details of the entire transaction. Our deaths, accidental or otherwise, will trigger an investigation of you and your country which I believe you’d prefer to avoid. She’s bested you, Abdu. My advice is to take it like a man.”

“What would you know of being a man? You’re nothing but a woman’s lapdog.”

Philip only smiled, but even the amusement was deadly.
“Would you prefer to go outside and settle this in an alley? I assure you I’m agreeable.” He glanced over as Adrianne walked back into the room. “Thank you, darling.” After accepting the brandy he gestured to Abdu. “I think we’d better get on with business. Abdu’s a busy man.”

Her hands were steady again. She deliberately chose a chair between Philip and Abdu. “As I said, the necklace is my property. This is the law, one which would be held up even in Jaquir if the situation were made public. I’d prefer to avoid publicity, but will go to the press here, in Europe, and in the East if it becomes necessary. The scandal would be of little consequence to me.”

“The story of the theft and your treachery would ruin you.”

“On the contrary.” Now she smiled. “I could dine off the story for the rest of my life. But that’s hardly the issue. I’ll return the necklace to you and forfeit all claim to it. I’ll keep silent about your treatment of my mother, and of your dishonor. You can return to Jaquir with The Sun and the Moon and your secrets—for five million dollars.”

“You put a high price on your honor.”

Hard, unwavering, her eyes met his again. “Not on mine, on my mother’s.”

He could have them dead. Abdu weighed the satisfaction of seeing them blown apart by a car bomb, assassinated by a silenced bullet, poisoned at some decadent American party. He had the means and the power to arrange it. The satisfaction would be great. But so would the consequences.

If their deaths were traced back to him, he could not hold off the outcries. If it became known that The Sun and the Moon had been taken from him, his people might riot and he would be shamed. He wanted the necklace back and couldn’t, as yet, afford to avenge himself.

His ties with the West were hateful but necessary. Money was pumped out of the desert every day. Five million dollars would scarcely lighten his purse.

“You will have your money if money is what you require.”

“It’s all I require from you.” Rising, she opened her purse and took out a business card. “My attorneys,” she said as she handed it to Abdu. “The transaction will be made through them. The moment I’m assured the deposit has been
made in my Swiss account, I’ll give The Sun and the Moon to you or your representative.”

“You will not return to Jaquir or have contact with any members of my family.”

Her price, and it was heavier than she’d ever imagined. “I will not, as long as you live.”

He spoke to her in Arabic softly, so that she paled. Then he turned away and left her standing in the rubble of her home.

“What did he say to you?”

Because it was important not to care, even now, she shrugged. “He said that he would live a very long time, but that to him, and to all members of the House of Jaquir, I was already dead. He will pray to Allah that I will die in pain and despair, like my mother.”

Philip rose and tilted her chin up with his hand. “You could hardly expect a blessing.”

She forced a smile. “No. It’s done, and I expected to feel a fabulous wave of joy, if not satisfaction.”

“What do you feel?”

“Nothing. After all this, after everything, I can’t seem to feel anything at all.”

“Then maybe we should go down and look at your building.”

Now the smile came easily. Then she laughed and dragged her hands through her hair. “That might do it. I need to know it was right.” When she looked over at her mother’s portrait her stomach muscles unclenched. “The money meant nothing to him, but I want to be sure he understood, and he remembers.”

“He understood, Addy. And he’ll remember.”

“Philip.” She touched his hand, then drew back. “We have to talk.”

“Am I going to need more brandy?”

“I want you to know how grateful I am for everything you’ve done.”

“Mmm-hmm.” He decided it best to sit again.

“Don’t take it lightly. You helped me turn the most important corner in my life. Without you I might have accomplished it, but it wouldn’t have meant the same thing.”

“Oh, I doubt it. Doubt that you could have pulled it off
without me,” he explained. “But if it makes you feel better to think so, go ahead.”

“I knew exactly what—” She caught herself. “Never mind. The point is that I want to thank you for everything.”

“Before you walk me to the door?”

“Before we each get back to our own lives,” she corrected him. “Are you trying to annoy me?”

“Not at all. I’m only trying to be certain I know exactly what you want. Have you finished thanking me yet?”

“Yes.” She turned to kick at a broken vase. “Quite finished.”

“Well, you might have gushed a bit more, but I’ll have to settle. Now, if I have this right, you’d like me to stroll out the door and out of your life.”