Midnight Jewels (48 page)

"Whoever said," Croft observed thoughtfully, his eyes gleaming with relieved amusement, "that that kind of literature has no socially redeeming value?"

Mercy's shaky smile warmed the chilly night.

The first Doberman appeared out of the woods in front of them as they made their way back to where the Toyota was parked. The second dog was sitting beside the car, seemingly guarding it. Both animals went up to Croft, greeting him silently. Mercy watched the moment of silent animal-human communion and groaned.

"Why do I get the feeling I'm going to be buying a lot of dog food in the future?"

Mercy was exhausted by the time they reached Denver. Croft had driven straight through, stopping only to notify the authorities anonymously of the fire and to fill the Toyota's gas tank. When they finally pulled into a motel parking lot, all she wanted was a long hot shower before dinner.

"Do you think the motel clerk will mind us taking two Dobermans into the room?" she asked Croft as she glanced dubiously at the dogs in the back seat.

"I'll speak to the clerk," Croft said blandly. "I'm sure he'll understand."

Mercy wasn't particularly surprised when that proved true. Croft had a way of getting what he wanted.

"I wonder what will become of Isobel," Mercy said during dinner that evening. "That woman gave me the creeps. She is also a twit."

Croft's mouth lifted in genuine amusement. "You have a way of seeing some dungs in very simple terms, don't you? I think, at the bottom, you and I share a very similar philosophy of life. You're right. Isobel was a twit and Gladstone
had a way of attracting twits. As he said, there are always plenty of people out there who are willing to surrender control of their lives to someone else in exchange for a feeling of being unique and important."

"So what do you think will happen to her?"

"I don't know and I don't particularly care." Croft shrugged. "As far as I'm concerned, she was just a nuisance. I was after Gladstone, not her. She knows that, which is why she'll disappear from our lives. I imagine she'll find another employer and become someone else's problem. Sooner or later she's going to wind up in jail or dead. It's inevitable. She's not quite as smart as she should be to have a successful career working for people like Gladstone. She doesn't know the fundamental rule for survival in that kind of job."

"Which is?"

"When to get out."

"Oh." Mercy shivered at the casual way he outlined Isobel's probable future. "You were right about Gladstone or Graves or whatever his name was, Croft. He was an evil, dangerous man."

He looked at her. "I should never have let you get close to him."

"Don't start in on that," Mercy advised. "I didn't give you much choice in the matter."

"If I had been sure from the start that Gladstone was really Graves I could have taken steps to prevent you from coming in contact with him."

Mercy glared at him warningly. "I don't like either the direction this conversation is taking or
that look in your eyes."

He blinked owlishly. "What took in my eyes?"

"That one that says, 'I perceive that I may have failed to properly carry out my full and noble responsibility in this particular instance.' A sense of responsibility is all well and good, Croft, but you have a tendency to carry it too far.
What happened on that mountain was not your fault. You saved our lives and Isobel's, too."

"You saved our lives by discovering that tunnel in the vault."

Mercy felt suddenly pleased with herself. "That was clever of me, wasn't it?"

"Of course, you wouldn't have been in that vault in the first place if you
had followed my orders." Croft slipped the point of his verbal shaft in smoothly
while Mercy was still preening.

Mercy's sense of satisfaction evaporated in the heat of her ire. "You have some nerve to start lecturing me after all I've been through in the past few days."

"What do you think I went through when I saw you get out of the helicopter? You nearly ruined everything."

Mercy chewed on her lower lip, aware of a sudden, enormous weight that felt suspiciously like guilt. She sighed. "I'm sorry, Croft. When they told me you were a prisoner I didn't think I had any choice but to do as they said."

"I know," Croft surprised her by saying. "In your shoes I probably would have done the same."

"No, you wouldn't have done the same," Mercy declared morosely. "You would have thought of some brilliant way to infiltrate the household and rescue me. Which is exactly what you did."

"I think we can safely say that we rescued each other. Let's close the subject, Mercy. I can see that if I give you the lecture you deserve I'm going to have to watch you grovel while I listen to a lot of pathetic, tearful apologies."

Mercy hesitated for an instant, aware that he just might be teasing her. "I'll make a deal with you," she finally said. "No more groveling apologies from me if I don't have to listen to any more heroic claims of full responsibility for allowing me to get into danger in the first place. I can't
stand to hear you talk about how you owe me and how you always pay your debts. Agreed?"

He looked at her for a long moment. "You don't want to bind me to you with a debt of honor," he said slowly.

"Is it necessary to hold you that way?" she asked gently.

"No. The truth is, there's nothing you could do to get rid of me."

Mercy smiled brilliantly. "Good." Then she looked at him intently. "Will you want to go back to the kind of work you were doing three years ago?"

"No. That was over long before I met you. It was time for it to be over. That's why I opened the self-defense schools. I knew I needed something else to do with my life. I had spent long enough exploring the side of me that responds to violence. I wanted more time for studying the part
that finds pleasure in logic and philosophy and another kind of strength."

"You seem to know yourself so well."

He smiled. "Most of what I'm learning' about myself lately I'm learning from you."

"It works both ways, I mink. I've learned a few things from you, too." She glanced up. "Here comes the wine I ordered. Just what we need."

Croft watched the waiter pour the two glasses. When the man had left he picked up one glass and turned it slowly in the light, studying the clear red liquid. His eyes were thoughtful—too thoughtful.

Mercy's intuition told her what was going through his head. "You don't have to worry about it, you know," she said.

His gaze rose to meet hers. "Worry about what?"

"About ever getting really drunk again. You're not your father, Croft. You didn't drink too much the night of Gladstone's party; you were drugged. I doubt if you will ever get
genuinely drunk in your entire life, but if you do, one thing's for sure."

"What's that?"

Mercy smiled as she picked up her own glass. "We know now you're not a mean drunk like your father was. Lecherous and horny, yes, but not mean. Even when you were high as a kite you were in full control of your dangerous side."

"There are times, Mercy, when you can be a great comfort." His eyes were not at all remote as he looked at her over the rim of his glass. They were filled with warmth and love and a hint of laughter.

"To us," Mercy said, raising her glass to touch his.

"To us."

"Oh, by the way," Mercy began smugly, "I have something to tell you about some microfilm I found in the spine of
Valley
. My cleverness is going to astound you."

Croft groaned. "I was afraid of that."

It was dawn when Mercy first stirred the next morning. Without opening her eyes she edged her foot around under the covers, feeling for Croft's solid presence. The bed was empty beside her. Perhaps Croft had gone downstairs to take the dogs out for a morning run. But when an inquiring, damp nose nuzzled her palm, she knew the dogs were still in the room.

Mercy finally lifted her lashes and sat up slowly, careful not to make any undue noise. Croft was where she had thought he would be at that time of day. He was sitting cross-legged and motionless near the window, gazing out at the mountains in the distance. He was wearing his jeans, but nothing else.

Mercy was grateful Croft had the basic intelligence not to risk sitting naked on a motel room carpet. There was no telling what kind of dirt might be imbedded in the rug. The
man had a certain amount of common sense under that rigid code of behavior, after all.

She watched him for a moment, loving the strong, lean shape of him in the early light. Not at all ghostlike, she thought in amusement.

Quietly she got out of bed and reached for her travel robe. Hie Doberman that had been checking on her went back to settle down beside its companion in the corner. Mercy went into the bathroom without disturbing Croft. When she came back out a few minutes later she knew he was almost finished with his meditation. He hadn't moved, but she sensed the changed level of awareness in him. She was slowly growing accustomed to the subtle link
that bound them.

"Good morning," she said quietly and went to stand in front of him.

His expression altered as he looked up at her. Hie detached quality disappeared, replaced by a direct warmth that sank into her very bones.

"Good morning," he said.

Mercy smiled and sat down across from him, tucking her legs under her in imitation of his own position. "I think it's time we talked."

He smiled slightly. "What about?"

"There are a couple of questions concerning our relationship that remain to be settled."

"Everything is settled, Mercy."

She knew he meant that. She stared at him wonderingly. "Is that right?"

"There will be a period of adjustment, but that's not important. The only important thing is that we're going to be together."

"Are we?" She felt slightly breathless.

"I love you. The Circle of my life wouldn't be complete without you, Mercy."

Glorious relief washed through her. "Oh, Croft, I feel the
same way. I don't know how it could have happened so quickly or so completely, but I know I want to be with you for the rest of my life. I know it in a way I can't fully explain, a way I've never known anything before in my life. But I'm absolutely sure of it. I love you."

"When the pattern is comprehended and accepted and the Circle is complete, everything is as clear and transparent as a watercolor painting. The truth glows with life when it's revealed." Croft reached out and took her hand in his.

He looked into Mercy's eyes as the full light of dawn blazed through the window. His love for her was abundantly clear in the depths of his hazel gaze. He was right, she realized. The truth glowed with life when it was revealed. She felt his fingers tighten around her and knew that the link between them was unshakable. In some way she would probably never be able
to
fully explain, they belonged together and they both accepted that fact.

The truth glowed between them. Two minds and two realities shimmered, blurred and finally meshed for a dazzling instant of time.

And then the moment of realization was past, locked forever in their hearts and minds.

"There are, naturally, one or two details to be ironed out," Croft said musingly.

Mercy was still feeling slightly dazed by the experience she had just been through. "Details?"

"I understand that you can't move to Oregon. You have to be near your business. That means I'll have to move to Ignatius Cove. That's no problem. I can run my business from anywhere along the coast. But we'll have to find a bigger place closer to the water. There are going to be three dogs, I'm afraid. I've got another one at home. A neighbor looks after him when I'm gone. They'll all need room to run and so do I."

"Well, I expect we'll be able to find something larger than
my apartment." Mercy was feeling very agreeable at the moment.

"I will require a meditation room in our new home, a place that's used for nothing else except contemplation. I'll teach you how to meditate properly. I'll also have to instruct you in the proper selection of tea. I can't be expected to exist on tea bags for the rest of my days. And you'll need painting lessons."

"Anything else?" Mercy asked sweetly.

"We'll probably have to get rid of your television," Croft said, thinking. "I dislike TV. I find the flickering screen disturbing, not to mention the junk that's on the flickering screen. And then there's the matter of your taste in interior design. I realize you like bright colors, but with a little instruction, I think you can be made to appreciate the subtle nuances of more refined shades."

Mercy eyed him dangerously. "Is that the end of the list of your, er, requirements?"

"There are probably some other things that will come to mind. I'll jot them down as I think of them."

"Wonderful. Tell me, what am I going to get out of this relationship?"

He smiled complacently. "You'll be getting a man who will be able to help you control that streak of recklessness in you. A man who will always know what's best for you and who will see to it that you get what you need, even if it's not always quite what you want. You will also be getting a dedicated sex slave who will be devoted to your personal pleasure. What more could a woman ask?"

That did it. Croft's newfound ability to tease her was getting out of hand. Mercy launched herself at him, pushing him backward onto the carpet. He went down easily, his eyes full of wicked laughter. She pinned his arms on either side of his head while she straddled his chest.

"That's enough out of you, sex slave."

"Are you going to assault me again?"

"Darn right, I am."

"Good. Then I suggest we get into a more comfortable position." He moved without any warning, rolling over and pinning her beneath him.

"Croft!" she sputtered, torn between laughter and mock outrage. "Let me up. You're mashing me."

"You're right. This position might be more comfortable for me, but I can see where it could be a little wearing on your sweet tail. This carpet isn't very thick, is it?" He got to his feet, taking her with him.