French Silk(24)

"What's the connection? Other than the obvious."

"Wilde had a 'hit list,' as this Cassidy called it. A list of magazines that he wanted to abolish. French Silk's catalog was one of them. Did you know about that?"

"How would I?"

"Well, you and Wilde were so chummy," she teased.

"I attended a few receptions welcoming him to the city because Belle thought it politically beneficial for me to do so. Personally, I think he was full of shit."

"Amen. I wonder who had the pleasure of shutting him up permanently," she said with a wicked grin. "The police must be scrounging for leads. Anyone on that list would have motivation for killing him, but since French Silk is headquartered here in New Orleans, Cassidy thought that maybe… You get the picture.

"Anyway," she continued, sliding on her bangles, "it wouldn't have looked too good for me to be toting around a gun, would it? Especially if the D.A.'s office discovered that I was in New Orleans with you that night and not in New York as everyone believes. If it came down to it, would you vouch for my Whereabouts?"

"Don't even joke about it, Yasmine." He took her by the shoulders. "I know Cassidy by reputation: he's ambitious and shrewd and always goes for the jugular. It sounds as though he's grasping at straws to connect French Silk to Wilde's murder, and it might look silly to us, but you can be damn certain that he's serious."

"Well, I'm not worried. He's got nothing on Claire. He can't build a case around her catalog's appearance on a stupid list."

"Of course not."

"Then why the frown?"

"Because I don't want him snooping around you."

"He didn't question me."

"That doesn't mean he won't. If he does, I can't be used as your alibi. Listen, Yasmine," he said urgently, "until I resolve my marriage, in my own time and in my own way, it's imperative that no one find out about us."

"I know that," she said sullenly.

"You can't indicate to anyone—anyone—that we're seeing each other."

She was glad he'd brought up the topic because she'd been wanting to address it for a long time. "I want to tell Claire about us, Alister. I hate tricking her and acting out games like having her pick me up at the airport when I've already been in town for twelve hours. Can't I confide in her? She's not going to tell anybody."

He was stubbornly shaking his head before she'd even finished making the request. "No, Yasmine. You can't tell anybody. Promise?"

Angrily she thrust his hands off her shoulders. Her eyes glittered dangerously. "Are you so afraid that word will leak out and reach Belle?"

"Yes, I am. If she ever learned the real reason I want a divorce, she'd try to stop it any way she could. And when she realized that I was determined and that it was inevitable, she'd stall and drag out the proceedings indefinitely."

He sighed and drew Yasmine into his embrace. "Don't you see? Why give Belle ammunition to hurt us even more than we're hurting already? I'm thinking of you. I don't want you dragged into a nasty scandal. No one would understand what it's like between us. The public would think the worst."

She cupped his face between her hands. "I love you, Alister. But I'd kill you if I thought you were lying to me."

He turned his face into her palm and kissed it. "I want to be with you more than anything in the world. I want to be married to you, having babies, all of it."

They kissed until tenderness blossomed into passion. "We can't, Yasmine." He moved her questing hand away from his fly. "I'm already late."

"You ain't that late, sugar," she whispered seductively as she opened his zipper.

The time came, however, when he had to leave. It did no good to pout, cry, threaten, or cajole. When he had to go, he had to go. It was as simple as that. She didn't like it, but she had learned to accept it. She made their goodbyes as painless as possible.

"When will I see you?"

"I've got several meetings with the reelection committee this week," he told her as he checked the room for anything he might have left behind. "November will be here before we realize it. Then there's a family reunion in Baton Rouge over the weekend. It'll be hell, but I have to go."

"Belle and the children will be there?"

"Of course." He tipped up her lowered chin and kissed her again. "How about Sunday night? Here. I'll make up some excuse. They'll be tired after the weekend. I should be able to get away for an hour or so."

"Sunday night," she agreed, trying to look happy about it. It was five days away.

"If I run into a problem, I'll call you." She had a private telephone line in her bedroom in Claire's apartment; it wasn't answered if she wasn't there.

He was almost through the door when he turned back. "Do you need some money, Yasmine?"

Her wistful smile disintegrated. "For services rendered?" she snapped. "How much do you figure one of my blow-jobs is worth?"

"I merely want to help."

"I should never have told you I was in a cash crunch."

In a weak moment several months earlier she had mentioned to him that her expenditures were running slightly higher than her income. Each month she got a little further behind. Some of her creditors were making threats.