Night and Day (10 page)

“You're confusing me, Eve.”

“I think that because I want to know, I
will
know soon, Joe. I think the baby will want me to have what I want in this.”

He stared at her for a long moment and then smiled. “Why not? I want to give you everything you want. It must run in the family.” He kissed her gently. “You will tell me if the baby comes through for you?”

“Now that did sound definitely patronizing. Not that I blame you. You'd have to be in my place to understand it.”

“That would be very unusual and disorienting. I'll just stand by and let you work it out.”

“I'm doing that. But it helps that you're with me now and trying to take care of our child.” She paused. “Just as we have to take care of Cara. Jock left for Moscow right after you called, Joe.”

“I thought he would. That doesn't have to be bad.”

“I know. He saw things in those pictures of Cara that I didn't see. Did you notice that bruise on her cheek?”

“No.”

“Neither did I. He's so closely attuned to her that it constantly surprises me. They almost read each other's minds. That could be a good thing if he has to try to get her out.”

“And he didn't blow up when he saw that bruise?”

“He just said it couldn't happen again.” She went back into his arms. “And it can't, Joe,” she whispered. “She's been through so much…”

“Shh.” He was holding her tighter. “Let it go. Tomorrow we'll know more about where she is and how to get to her. Tonight she'll be fine. Just let me hold you and take it all away.”

Take away all the pain and worry and sorrow. Give her love and safety and a pleasure that was always so intense that it took her breath away. That's what Joe had done for her all their years together. How lucky she was that she had found him. How lucky she was that she had never lost him. She pulled his head down and kissed him long and slow. “I love you, Joe Quinn.” She pulled off her nightshirt and came on top of him. Her breasts were readying the instant they touched the hard muscles of his chest. “And I think tonight I have to give back a little to you.” Her legs tightened on his hips. “Or maybe not so little…”

KASKOV ESTATE

MOSCOW

“Now don't be pushy with your grandfather,” Natalie said as she walked with Cara down the driveway toward the mansion from the gatehouse. “Just play fifteen minutes or so for him, then I'll send you back to the gatehouse. I don't want him to become bored with you.”

Cara didn't answer.

“But perhaps he won't want you to play that long. He doesn't appreciate amateurs. You sounded conceited when you told him that you were good. He might be disappointed.”

“I didn't mean to be conceited. I just answered his question.” She looked straight ahead. “I can't really tell what's bad or good when I'm playing. It's just … the music. But that's what people have told me.”

“Have they? How interesting.” She opened the front door. “But we've already discussed how many people lie.” Her face lit with glowing affection as she saw Kaskov coming across the foyer. “Here we are, Daddy.” She moved toward him and kissed his cheek. “I went to get Cara so that we could talk. I know the gatehouse is safer, but I was already missing her.” She pushed Cara forward. “Tell your grandfather how much you like the gatehouse. She said that the mansion overwhelms her a little.”

“She'll get used to it later.” Kaskov came forward, and his brows rose as his eyes traveled over Cara's black ballet slippers, simple navy blue skirt, and white-silk blouse. “Not what I would have thought you'd have chosen for her, Natalie. Your taste runs more to designer lace and satin.”

“It's what she wanted. She said that she doesn't like to draw attention to herself. And she's a trifle gangly, so anything fancier would have been wasted on her.”

Lie on top of lie. Cara was becoming accustomed to it now.

“She's not gangly.” Kaskov tilted his head. “But that outfit will be fine. There's a certain elegance to it. Why don't you like to draw attention to yourself, Cara?”

“Clothes don't matter. Sometimes they just get in the way.”

Kaskov laughed. “Do you hear that, Natalie? Are you sure that she's your daughter?”

“Poor child. She's probably never had anything nice. No wonder she feels out of place.”

“Well, I have something that she might consider ‘nice.'” He took Cara's hand and drew her through the foyer to the living room. “It's there on the couch. I bought it this afternoon.”

He'd already taken the violin out of the case and set it upright against the silk cushions of the couch, framing it. “What do you think of it?”

She went slowly across the room, her gaze on the violin.

The wood had a deep, burnished luster that seemed to glow under the lights …

“It's … wonderful.” She reached out and touched it. “Italian? How old is it?”

“How old do you think it is?”

“I saw one that looked like this in a book Elena gave me.”

“How old, Cara?”

She moistened her lips. “Over two hundred years?”

“And who made it?”

She was afraid to say it. “Amati?”

He chuckled. “Very good.”

She touched the violin again. “And you want me to play it?”

“I demand that you play it. I didn't go to all this trouble to have you sit and look at it.”

“What's all this about, Daddy?” Natalie asked. “You gave her a two-hundred-year-old violin? Aren't they worth a lot of money?”

“Only the exceptional ones.”

“Is this exceptional?”

“Is it exceptional, Cara?”

“Oh, yes.” She could hardly get out the words. “I heard a concert on PBS, and the sound … I'd have to play it, but I…” She looked at him. “And I don't think you'd buy it if it wasn't as good as the one I heard.”

“I've never heard of that violin,” Natalie said. “It's not like it's a Stradivarius, is it?”

“No, I might save that for later.”

“Daddy, how much is it worth?” she asked impatiently.

“It was a bargain. One point four million.”

“What?” Her eyes widened. “For an instrument for a child? It's ridiculous.”

“It might be, but I didn't want to waste my time listening to her playing an inferior instrument.” He looked at Cara. “But she's right, if you only deserve an inferior instrument, that's what I'll give you. If you show me you come close to deserving this one, then I'll allow you to keep it.”

“Ridiculous,” Natalie said through her teeth.

“Are you feeling the pressure?” Kaskov asked Cara. “Sweaty palms?”

She shook her head. “I don't care if you take it away if I can play it just once. I never thought I'd ever be able to do that.”

He stared at her for a moment. “Interesting. Then why don't you sit down and play it?”

“Daddy.”

He didn't look at her. “And you sit down, too, Natalie. I'm looking forward to this.”

Cara was no longer listening to Natalie. She was only conscious of the violin and the music she knew was there waiting for her.

She slowly picked up the violin and tucked it beneath her chin.

“Aren't you going to ask me what I want?” Kaskov asked.

“You're Russian. You'll want the Tchaikovsky.”

She began to play.

The sound …

The feel of the strings …

The release, the wildness, the beauty.

The music.

*   *   *

She didn't know how long she played. It was pure joy that she didn't want to let go.

She went from Tchaikovsky to Vivaldi to Mendelssohn in a fever to keep the music whirling, touching, surrounding.

“Enough, Cara.” She was suddenly aware of Natalie's hand on her shoulder. “You must be exhausted. I need to take you back to the gatehouse and see that you get to bed.” Her voice was gentle, but the fingers digging into Cara's shoulder were not. “And you've taken enough of your grandfather's time for one evening. Give him back the violin.”

Cara shook her head to clear it. She took a deep breath and got to her feet. “I'm not tired.” She could still feel the music singing in her veins. She crossed the room to Kaskov's chair. “Thank you, sir.” She held out the violin. “It was wonderful.”

“Yes, it was,” he said softly. He made no motion to take the instrument. “But there's always room for improvement. Though at the moment I can't see how. I believe you'd better keep that violin and see if you can surprise me.”

Her eyes widened. “I can keep it?” Her hand tightened on the violin. “You're not joking?”

“I'm not known for my humor. And I never joke about money or music.”

“It's too much, Daddy,” Natalie said. “I didn't bring her here for you to spoil her.”

“I disagree. It may not be enough.” He was gazing at Cara. “And I'm not going to spoil her. I'll make her work for it. Every time I send for her, I'll expect her to come running with that violin and play for me. Is that a deal, Cara?”

“Yes, sir.” She was looking down at the violin in disbelief. “Is it really mine?”

“I think it has to be.” He turned to Natalie. “You never disappoint me. I thought her sister, Jenny, was remarkable, but you've brought me another extraordinary gift.” He kissed her cheek. “Now take her back to the gatehouse and tuck her in.”

“Yes, Daddy.” She turned to Cara. “Pack up that violin, and let's get out of here.”

“Right away.” There was something in Natalie's tone that made Cara hurry to the couch and place the violin quickly in its case. It was clear that Natalie was annoyed, and it would be hard to ignore it now that Cara was no longer involved in the music. All she wanted to do was to get back to the gatehouse with this incredible gift and be alone so that she could play it again. “Thank you. Good night, sir.”

“I've just given you a present that you appear to be very pleased with and yet you can't seem to remember to call me grandfather.”

She smiled tentatively. “It just seems … disrespectful. You don't really know me. And I'm not sure you would want to if it wasn't for the music.”

“Very perceptive.” He smiled crookedly. “And I don't know either. We'll have to test it and see what comes of it. Until then, you may call me sir.”

She nodded and hurried toward the door.

She was only a few yards down the driveway when Natalie caught up with her. “That was quite an exhibition,” she said tightly. “I might as well not have been in the room.”

“I didn't ask to play for him.”

“No, you didn't. And you didn't ask him to give you that ridiculously expensive violin, but somehow you got him to do it.”

“I had no idea he'd give me an Amati. It took my breath away.”

“My father never stints himself when music is involved. I should have remembered and tried to circumvent it.”

“I could give it back.”

“No, you can't. He'd blame me. We had a few other battles over his gifts to my brother, and it would make him remember them. He mustn't do that.”

“Then I can keep the violin?”

“I have no choice. But don't think you've won.” Her eyes were straight ahead, and her tone was ice-cold. “You'll learn that in the final battle, I always win.”

“I didn't try to win anything.” She was suddenly afraid. She had been attempting to pacify Natalie since she had arrived here, but everything kept going wrong.

It mustn't go wrong. She didn't know what plans Natalie had for Eve, but she was afraid for her. And the more she thought about those scraps of conversation that she remembered, she knew that somehow she was involved.

She had to get away from here.

She couldn't let Natalie use her to hurt Eve.

“Maybe you could tell your father I'm homesick, and you want to take me back to the U.S. Then he wouldn't—”

“Shut up!” Natalie suddenly exploded. “It's all your fault. That damn music. Who cares anything about it? Did you hear him thank me for providing him with you because he'd found a new pet to amuse him? It's all he cares about. Your sister, Jenny, and now you. And he doted on my brother Alex. I'd do everything I could, but I still couldn't come out on top. I was only important if he wasn't around.” She added harshly, “So I had to make sure he wasn't around.”

Cara didn't want to hear this. They were close to the gatehouse and she instinctively started to hurry. Don't listen. Get away from her. Because she had a terrible idea that she knew how Natalie had solved her problem with her brother. “Your father seems to love you. I'm sure he loved you more than your brother.”

“You don't know anything. That stupid music. Even after Alex was dead, my father wouldn't give up on it.”

“Jenny?” Cara whispered.

“And now you.” Her voice was shaking with rage. “Does he think I'm some kind of broodmare to spit out children to give him some kind of twisted satisfaction because of that prick who messed up his hands? In a way, he was like my husband, who was trying to make me give him a son. I am
not
a broodmare. Why couldn't they see that I was the important one?”

They were only a few feet from the gatehouse. Don't let Natalie say too much. She might already have said more than was safe for Cara.

“He'll probably get bored with hearing me play.” She opened the door. “He might make me give the violin back in a day or two.”

“I doubt it,” she said curtly. “But I may have to cut this visit short. I wanted to make sure he was going to be in my corner, but you're spoiling everything.” She followed her into the gatehouse. “But you will do everything I say, and you will not cause me any more trouble.”