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Here we go, Conor thought.
"Trust me on this, O'Neil. Expecting Eva to worry about me is like asking a shark to become a vegetarian."
"She's concerned about you."
"Right, and I'm the man in the moon." Miranda took a deep breath, then exhaled on a gusty sigh. "Thanks for the update," she said, pushing back her chair. "I'll keep it in mind."
"Sit down, Miranda."
"O'Neil, I am late. I work for my living, in case you'd forgotten, and I have a shoot at the Jeu de Paume. If I don't get moving now—"
"Eva wants you to come home."
Miranda laughed. "Goodbye, O'Neil."
Conor caught hold of her wrist. "She says Papillon's been searching for a model to advertise a new line of cosmetics and you've got the look her people want."
"I'll bet."
"Dammit, what's the matter with you? You go back to New York, you get an exclusive contract with Papillon and for all you know, you and Eva might find some neutral ground."
"What you mean is, Eva's worried about me meeting a nasty end in Paris. That wouldn't suit Hoyt's image or Papillon's, either."
Hell, Conor thought, trying not to wince. The words were different but the sentiment was damn near the one Eva had expressed when he'd talked to her a couple of hours ago.
"I have decided," she'd said, "albeit with the greatest reluctance, to accede to Mr. Thurston's request."
"It's the right thing to do," Conor had begun, but Eva had interrupted him.
"Both my husband and I are people of some standing, Mr. O'Neil. I will not risk having our good names sullied by some ugly public revelation. If it's necessary to find a way to convince Miranda to return home so we can put an end to this business and ensure her safety, then I shall do so."
Miranda, watching Conor's face, smiled tightly.
"I'm right, aren't I? She wants me home about as much as I want to go there."
Dammit, he thought, looking into her knowing eyes, what was the sense in pretending?
"She wasn't eager for it," he said, "but once I convinced her it was necessary, she agreed to cooperate."
"Which is why she's offered me the Papillon job. Sort of a bonus. A little tidbit to make me want to roll over like a good little puppy."
Conor shrugged his shoulders. "You could put it that way."
Miranda nodded. "Thanks for being honest." Her eyes were shiny and she brushed the back of her hand across them. "It's too damned warm in here," she said brusquely, and made for the door.
Conor didn't speak until they'd reached the street. Then he took her arm and gently turned her to face him.
"I'm glad you're taking this intelligently."
"I've been taking my mother's feelings for me intelligently all my life. She doesn't like me but that's okay." Her smile was as false as it was bright. "There's no law that says mothers and daughters have to love each other."
"I meant, the part about you going home."
"Going home?"
"To New York." He smiled. This had all gone so much easier than he'd expected. He thoug
ht of all the stuff he'd worked his butt off to line up, the arms he'd had to twist, the favors called in by Harry, all of it done because he'd figured he'd have to force her to agree to return to the States. His smile broadened. "Who knows? You might even find you're tired of being an expatriate."
