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Depressed by that gruesome thought, it took her a moment to come up with something positive. Finally she settled on her gratitude that Griffin had chosen to play the piano rather than the bagpipes. Not that he wouldn’t look smashing in a kilt, but it would have been impossible to pretend a true affection for that peculiar instrument. She could well understand how the Irish had terrified enemies in battle with their pipes, but believed a battlefield was where they belonged.
The white-coated young man returned with their entrée and this time spoke at more length with their host. Darcy couldn’t follow their exchange, but hoped it pertained to the food rather than anything more sinister.
Griffin noted Darcy’s confusion. “He’s describing the pheasant as particularly fine.”
Darcy recalled eating pheasant once in Germany. She sampled a forkful, and it almost melted in her mouth. There were also artichoke hearts, tiny new potatoes and dinner rolls as flaky as croissants.
One look at Lyman Vaughn suppressed her appetite quite effectively, but she sampled everything in an attempt to keep up her strength. By the time they were served a crème caramel for dessert, she was sleepy, and she feared she’d made a big mistake to swallow even a bite.
Griffin rose with care so as not to overturn his small table. “This has been one of the best meals I’ve ever eaten, but if I’m to stay awake long enough to play something else for you, I’ll need some fresh air. Darcy, come with me out to the garden.”
Darcy nearly sprinted through the french doors leading to the terrace. Night had fallen, but the garden’s gravel walkways were well-lit. She reached for Griffin’s hand and led him along a rose-lined path to a majestic marble fountain. The entwined figures of the three graces stood in the center. They were ringed by half a dozen fine sprays that splashed over their feet and filled the shallow pool. Confident they wouldn’t be overheard, she still pressed close to share her news.
“Vaughn knows I’m a landscape architect. Could he have also discovered your ties to Interpol?”
Alarmed, Griffin abruptly pulled her around to face him. “Tell me exactly what he said.”
Darcy repeated their brief exchange verbatim. “If he’s been snooping around Monarch Bay, then we should assume that your cover’s blown.”
“Maybe, maybe not. We were out of the room for several minutes, and he could have done a quick Internet search then. If anyone typed your name into Google, what would they find?”
Darcy hadn’t even considered that possibility. “Defy the World Tomatoes has a web site where I’m listed as the landscape architect.”
“I’ve seen the web site,” Griffin offered. “It’s a good one.”
“Thank you, Mary Beth and Christy Joy designed it, but I think that’s a long shot.”
“Well, for now, I’m not willing to assume anything, except for this.”
He bent to kiss her, wrapped his arms around her waist and, when he straightened, her feet left the ground. It was a possessive kiss, an abandoned assault on her senses that went on and on until they were both dizzy and in need of air. When he finally released her, she slid down his leg to find the ground.
When she caught her breath, she poked him in the chest. “I’ll agree this is a wonderfully romantic garden, but we’ll be damn lucky to get out of here alive. Let’s just steal the limo and go right now.”
“No,” he responded in an urgent whisper, “that would arouse far too much suspicion. We’re going to wait and pretend that we love it here.”
“Easy for you to say! You’ve got your music to distract you. I keep thinking how despicable Lyman Vaughn is, and poor Astrid breaks my heart, but—”
“I’ve not been thinking about the music,” he confided softly. “I’ve been remembering the other concerts I’ve given for the terminally ill. Most have been in hospitals, but a few were in private homes. Music has the power to lift people out of their pain, momentarily at least, but it can’t defeat death. Now, what I’m hoping is that we can give Astrid a few hours of peace, and then get out of here first thing in the morning.”
“If Vaughn knows the real reason you’re here, he won’t allow you to leave,” Darcy argued. “We need to get out tonight, and if not now, then just as soon as Vaughn has gone to bed.”
He shook his head. “I didn’t want you involved in this, but now that you are, you’ll do as I say.”
“And if your strategy gets us both killed?”
Griffin chuckled under his breath. “Then I’ll admit to having made a disastrous miscalculation, but at least we’d be together for all eternity.”
“Well, that’s a comfort!” she fired right back at him. She moved closer to the fountain and dipped her hands into the cool water. “Fine, I’ll do what you say, but you’ve got to promise me this is your last bit of intrigue.”
“Darcy—” he warned.
“No, let’s not argue. Just go on back inside and play some lullabies so Vaughn and his whole household will fall asleep.”
Griffin dropped his arm around her shoulders as they started up the walkway. “Fine, I’d already planned to play something soft and sweet for Astrid. It’s amazing that even monsters can father nice children.”
“Where’s her mother? If my child were dying, nothing could keep me away.”
“Let’s not ask that question.”
