An Unforgettable Lady(11)

Grace's eyes widened as she paled. "How do you know that?"

"Quite a number of New York's finest are friends of mine."

"Oh." She hesitated and then brought a shaking hand up to her hair.

He was intrigued by the show of fear, considering she'd gone out of her way to tell him she didn't think she was in danger.

"So you want to tell me the truth?" he asked.

"About what?"

"How you're really feeling." He looked pointedly at her trembling hand.

She quickly tucked it into her lap.

"I—ah, I am a bit disoriented," she murmured. "I've never had any kind of a threat before."

"That's surprising,''

"Why?"

He sensed she asked the question just to get him to talk, as if she wanted to buy some time to get herself under control. He decided to indulge her.

"You lead a high profile life and have a schedule Amtrak would envy. You leave your penthouse every morning at the same time, go on a run, get into your office by eight o'clock. You work until seven, you go out, you're home by eleven. Weekends are the same as weekdays."



"You managed to find all that out in less than twenty-four hours?" Her expression was incredulous.

"Three questions. That's all it took. And my car was running at the curb while your doorman was talking." He glanced down at the rings on her finger. "

I also know that your husband hasn't been around for much of the past month. In spite of the death of your father."

Abruptly, she rose from the sofa and went over to the windows. Although her walk was smooth and calm, he wasn't fooled. She was winding the rings around her finger again.

There was something going on with the husband, he thought.

When she stayed silent, he said, "So now that I've shown you mine, you want to show me yours "

There was a protracted pause. She reached up to the window and rested one hand on the glass. Her fingernails were trimmed neatly but not polished. It was another surprise but it made sense. She didn't overdo it with the makeup either.

When she finally turned to face him, her face was arranged carefully into an expression of tranquility. It was a lovely lie, he thought as his gaze drifted down to the graceful line of her neck. Her slender hand came up and fussed with her collar, as if she felt his eyes on her skin.

There was an elegance in the way she moved, he thought, a smoothness. He was surprised by how attractive he found it

When she spoke next, her voice was marked by a brusque urgency and he knew then she was going to tell him every thing. Or most of everything.

"I noticed about three weeks ago that I was being followed. It was right after my father's death. I was walking into the Hall Building after dark and I thought I saw some one behind me. When I came out an hour later, there was a figure across the street. Waiting for me."

Her words came out fast and edgy, as if spilled, and he thought she probably kept a lot to herself most of the time Preserving that beautiful image, no doubt.

"Was it a man or a woman?"

"I couldn't see clearly. But I assumed it was a man."

"And how do you know the person was waiting for you?"

"Because when I got in my car, he left. To be honest, it could have just been a paparazzo. They're hungry for candids of me looking mournful."

"But you don't really believe it was a photographer, do you?"

"He didn't take any pictures. And then a couple of days later, I know for sure I was trailed. I was going out to Newport by car with my father's ashes. My driver noticed it first. A white sedan behind us, all the way into Connecticut."

The countess's hands were busy with her watch, playing with the catch, releasing and closing, releasing and closing, a small noise marking each movement. He suspected she was screaming inside that fine skin of hers.

"Again, I told myself it had to be the press, that someone must have leaked that we were going to lay him to rest. There were photographers at the cemetery and I did see a white sedan just outside the gates."

"You still felt threatened, though."

She nodded, reluctantly. "And it hasn't stopped, I'll be coming out of a restaurant and I'll see someone step back, out of the light. I leave work and, I swear, I'll see a figure across the street. Yesterday morning, I came out of my building and I thought I saw him on the corner."