Past Tense (27 page)
A reporter stood before the international terminal at Heathrow, his microphone held to his mouth. “Bennett Price, the Canadian industrialist, was arrested late this afternoon. It is not clear what charges will be laid against him. Scotland Yard has declined to comment.”
The scene dissolved into an interior shot. Bennett stood between two uniformed policemen, his face set in stiff, angry lines.
“You know, Tony,” Sam said slowly. “I almost feel sorry for him. He had so much, and he threw it all away out of greed and thirst for power.”
Tony looked down at her, tender amusement lighting his eyes. “You don’t still have a sneaking fondness for him, do you?”
Sam laughed. “Not a chance. Besides, you’ve got something Bennett never had.”
“Oh? What’s that?”
“Integrity. And stability.”
Tony grimaced, his mouth curving in wry humor. “Sounds dull.”
“Never,” she said firmly. “Not when it goes with eyes the color of melted chocolate.”
Tony gathered her closer, inhaling the faint perfume that had enthralled him from the first day. “Oh, Sam, it’s so good to hold you. Will you be going back to Montréal?”
She tapped his nose with the tip of her finger. “What do you think, Tony?”
“I think you should stay right here. You like freelancing, don’t you? In a city like this, there’s plenty of work. And in your spare time, maybe you could marry me, and have my babies.”
“In my spare time? Do you think that’ll be enough?”
He smiled tenderly at her. “We’ll work on it.”
Samantha snuggled against him. They’d been through the worst. Now it was time for the best. With Tony, anything was possible.
The adventure was only beginning.
Author’s Note: This story is set in the late 1980s, during an era when the Séparatiste movement was very active in Québec province. Pickle Herring Street was real, as I described it, but has, alas, long disappeared under new developments, among them the spectacular London city hall.
Copyright © 1990 by Freda Vasilopoulos
Originally published by Harlequin Intrigue (ISBN 9780373221325)
Electronically published in 2011 by Belgrave House
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This is a work of fiction. All names in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to any person living or dead is coincidental.
