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"I was afraid-your son, your husband, Ev Bracket.. .. They were too much a part of you, and I wasn't convinced I could break through all that."
"You have, Cam, you have, although I never thought it was possible.
Do you know why?"
"No, I don't."
"I'm almost afraid to tell you because you may not like it."
"Now you have to tell me."
"You read my dossier, and you must certainly understand that I got yours."
"I suppose I'm flattered you wanted it but furious that it was given to you."
"I, too, have friends in the bureaucracy."
"Obviously. What's your point?"
"Cutting through the nonsense, you're basically a self-made man, no generals in your background like me, nor a great deal of money, again like me."
"Hey, we weren't on welfare, lady," said Pryce, amused and releasing her shoulders, but not moving away from her.
"My father and mother were teachers, and they both were damned good. They made sure I was able to go beyond a master's, which they could never afford to do themselves."
"When the CIA picked you out of Princeton," completed Leslie, "why did you accept?"
"Frankly, I thought it was exciting .. . and I was running up so many student loans it would take half a professor's career to pay them off."
"You were also an athlete," interjected Leslie, her face still close to his.
"I was all-state in high school, mainly-as I often said-because I hated the idea of being tackled."
"You were prime meat, my darling-" "Would you say that again, please?"
"Yes, I will.. .. My darling, my totally unexpected darling."
They kissed, long and with growing excitement, until Leslie moved back and looked into Cam's eyes.
"I haven't told you why you broke down my barriers."
"Is it important?"
"It is to me, my dearest. I'm not a one-night stand and I trust you know it as well as I do. I'm not a whore."
"Goddamn it, I could never think of you like that!"
"Lighten up. Officer Pryce. Some of my best friends have been unfairly categorized that way. You have no idea what marriage is like in the military. Months and months of separations, your own natural longing, the attractive men who hit on you in the officers' clubs, including your husband's superiors."
"That stinks," said Cameron.
"It certainly does," agreed the lieutenant colonel, "but it happens."
"Did it happen to you?"
"No. Fortunately I had Jamie, the reputation of a general's daughter, and Bracket's crazy assignments. Without them, I don't know."
"I do," said Pryce, holding her in his arms, and then kissing her again, longer than before, their initial intensity undeniable, needed by both.
The hotel telephone rang and Leslie pulled back.
"You'd better answer it," she suggested.
"We're not here," replied Cameron softly, still holding her.
"Please ... I haven't heard from Jamie-" "Sure," said Pryce, releasing her, "but you won't, you know. Waters told you that."
"I could hear about him, couldn't I?"
"Yes, of course." Cam crossed to a table and picked up the phone, cutting off a third ring.
"Hello?"
"We're on scrambler here, but limited on your side," said Geoffrey Waters from London.
"Speak in kind, please."
"I understand."
"Are you making any progress?"
"I was until you called."
"I beg your pardon?"
"Nothing, forget it. Yes, we are. Some native jewelry and one particularly exquisite tapestry will make wonderful additions to our collection."
"Excellent. A solid connection, then?"
"We believe so, we'll know later tonight. Incidentally, my sister wants money."
"Charge anything you need."
"The natives won't accept credit cards."
"I see. Beyond what I've sent?"
"Sent where?"
"The Villa d'Este cashier's office."
"They left a message earlier but I haven't called back."
"I wired ten thousand pounds," said Waters.
"What's that in American dollars?"
"I'm not sure, around seventeen or eighteen thousand."
"I guess that's close enough. She mentioned twenty."
"Good heavens, what for?"
"Maybe the tapestry."
"I see. I'll send another ten."
"Anything on your side that might add to our collection?"
"Ver
y definitely. A major purchase right here in London. A painting I'm convinced is an early, unsigned Goya during the days of betrayal, as he called them. I'd wire you a photograph but it wouldn't do the work justice. You'll see it when you return here on your way to the States."
"That's wonderful news. We'll keep in touch."
"Do call if the connection works out."
"Naturally." Pryce hung up the phone and turned to Leslie.
"We can pick up a lot of cash downstairs and Geof will send more."
"I loved that 'my sister wants money."
" "Better you're greedy than me. It's more logical for a rich woman."
"Sexist."
"Quite true." Cameron approached her.
"Now where were we?"
"I want you to come down with me to the shops, help me pick out some attractive casual clothes. But first tell me what the 'wonderful news' was."
"The way I interpreted it, they got a photograph of a mole in London, a Goya betrayal, he called it."
"A what?"
"Goya's obsession with the Spanish executions."
"I know who the painter was, what are you talking about?"
"I think they found the Matarese spy in London. And he's very high up."
"That is progress. Now, let's do some of our own."
"I'd rather do some of our very own-isn't that okay?"
"Not now, my dear. I want to as much as you do, but we've only got three hours to get to the Paravacini place."
"What's an hour or so?"
"To begin with, it's at least forty-five minutes around the lake, and we've both got to be properly dressed."
"Why do I have to go down to the shops with you?"
"Because men know what they find attractive in a woman. I've been in uniforms so long, I haven't kept up. You'll know when you see it."
"What about me?"
"I'll know when I dress you."
"Sexist!"
"To a degree, I'll accept that.. .. And since we've cooled off a bit, I'll tell you why you broke down my barriers. Do you want to hear?"
"I'm not sure. But yes, I guess I do."
"You're a uniquely decent man, Cameron Pryce. You felt the vibes between us, as I did, but you kept your distance-you respected me when others might not have. I like that."
"I didn't think there was any other way. Sure, the vibes were there, but you had your own problems-your husband, your son, the terrible things you've gone through. How could a stranger get past all that?"
