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“I am Adriana LeMer, and I have a wealthy friend who wishes to engage you for a private performance,” she confided softly. “He owns a magnificent chateau near Paris which boasts a piano worthy of your talent. How soon will you be available?” She cocked her head and leaned in to hear his reply.
It was not an infrequent request, but even when delivered with the haunting scent of expensive perfume, Griffin had no wish to oblige. “Unfortunately, my concert schedule is too full to permit a trip to Paris at present,” he apologized.
She plucked a card from her low-cut bodice and slipped it into his breast pocket. “I think you will make the time for a million dollars. Let us know when you will arrive, and your plane will be met.”
She turned away and disappeared into the crowd before Griffin could respond, but the brief encounter had been strangely unsettling. The world was filled with men who could afford to pay such extravagant sums to hear him play for an hour or two, and it was not unusual for such requests to come following a concert. Still, he was a man who relied upon his instincts, and he recoiled with a sickening dread as he withdrew her card from his pocket.
It held only a name, Simon Jordan, and a telephone number with a Paris prefix. He’d never heard of the man, but he suspected that Interpol would have. He was no longer excited by international intrigues, but others might find Jordan’s offer sufficiently interesting to merit an investigation.
He took another sip of champagne and, after shoving the card back into his pocket, he wished an already too long evening would soon end.
Sunday evening, Griffin came through the nursery gate seconds before George locked it. He was carrying a bag from the Emperor’s Palace and grinned at Darcy. “I sure hope you can leave now, because I haven’t eaten all day, and if I have to hang around here, I’m liable to start nibbling the plants.”
Darcy had been anticipating his return with as much dread as excitement. Now that he was here, she licked her lips and forced a shaky smile. “I’m all set.” She wished George a good night, and he waved to them on his way out.
As soon as they passed through the back gate, Griffin pulled Darcy into his arms, hugged her tightly and lifted her off her feet. “The mermaid is almost as adorable as you are. Did you pose for her?”
“No,” she exclaimed, doubting there was any resemblance between them. “But I’m glad you like her.”
“I love her and, while I’d insisted upon a fountain, it was a nice surprise to find it all finished. It’s proof you must have thought of me a time or two while I was away.”
Darcy returned his eager kisses with a trembling enthusiasm and took his hand as they walked the short distance to her house. Her emotions had been in such awful turmoil since Friday, she had to blink back tears. She’d convinced herself she would surely regain her equilibrium once he returned, but her chest was still painfully tight.
She ushered him inside her home and quickly busied herself setting the table. “Were you as pleased by the concert as the audience?” she asked.
Griffin laughed as he took the small cartons from the bag and opened them to find the walnut shrimp. “Not nearly, but then I hear myself play every day. They liked the new piece, though, and that made the trip worthwhile.”
“I’m almost afraid to ask about the chauffeur.”
“He wasn’t a new contact, just a limo driver who wore cheap cologne.”
Darcy slipped into her chair in time to glimpse a preoccupied frown cross his brow. “But still you look worried. Tell me what really happened.”
Griffin shrugged, sat and spooned a generous helping of walnut shrimp onto her plate. “Well, there was one rather peculiar incident at the reception following the concert.”
Darcy speared a shrimp, but couldn’t seem to guide the fork to her lips. “Peculiar in what way?”
“A woman approached me. She was the kind anyone would notice in a crowd, but she was a little too perfect.”
Fearing the worst, Darcy forced herself to make eye contact. “Are you trying to tell me that you slept with her?”
“No! I wasn’t even tempted.” Griffin leaned over and kissed her soundly. He summarized his brief conversation with Adriana LeMer, then began to eat.
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sp; “A million dollars is a staggering sum to refuse,” Darcy exclaimed. “Do you ever play for private parties?”
“Sure. I’ve played for you, haven’t I?” He winked at her.
“Yes, but if you send me a bill for a million dollars, I’ll not pay.”
“You needn’t worry. But there was something about Ms. LeMer that was definitely off. I’ll pass the card she gave me along to Interpol, but it’s probably nothing more sinister than some rich music lover’s extravagant whim. Now, what happened here while I was away?”
She didn’t even know where to begin and, while she was still toying with the shrimp, she’d yet to taste it. In fact, she hadn’t been able to eat much of anything in the last couple of days. She hadn’t slept well either, and only a skillful application of makeup kept her resulting fatigue from being glaringly obvious.
The kettle began to whistle, and she excused herself to make their tea. She’d actually rehearsed a story to describe the Twink disaster, but that she couldn’t shake her initial panic seemed absurd.
Her hands shook as she carried the mugs to the table. Griffin was serving the broccoli beef, but she doubted she could eat it either. “Nothing much happened,” she lied. “It was another good weekend for us.”
