Just from the way he talked, she could tell he enjoyed being with his relatives. She tried to imagine a big, noisy family reunion where everyone was glad to see each other. “Excuse me while my mind boggles,” she said. “I can’t imagine a family reunion in my family.”
“What do you do for Thanksgiving and Christmas?”
“Nothing.” She shrugged. “Work. We aren’t big on holidays, either.”
“We’ll spend the holidays in Virginia, then,” he said.
She sat up, surprised. “You mean you want to take me with you?”
“Well, I sure as hell don’t mean to leave you here alone.”
Now she was more than surprised; she was downright astonished. She hadn’t thought about their relationship in terms of the future. She was so new to this relationship business that she had no idea what the normal expectations would be; she certainly hadn’t thought about where she would spend the holidays.
“Do you think we’ll still be . . . you know?” she said hesitantly.
“Oh, yeah.” His tone was as confident as hers was hesitant.
“Well.” She rubbed her nose. “Okay.”
He grinned. “Don’t overwhelm me with your enthusiasm.” He glanced at his watch. “I have an appointment I need to cancel if—”
“No, go ahead,” she said swiftly, sitting up. “I’m toasty warm; I was just enjoying sitting here.”
He eyed her, judging her color for himself. He took her hand to feel if her fingers were cold. They weren’t, and he dropped a quick kiss on them. “Okay. You know how to reach me if you need me. I have business dinners tonight and tomorrow night, but after that my week is clear.” He winked at her. “I think it’s time for a second date.”
* * *
At eleven-thirty that night, Candra let herself into her apartment. She usually loved parties, but she hadn’t been able to enjoy the one tonight, even though it had been attended by a lot of her favorite people. She couldn’t stop thinking about the coming day. Tomorrow, she would sign the papers on the divorce settlement, and she couldn’t help thinking that the best part of her life was over. She would likely never see Richard again. Perhaps someday she would meet another man who could compare with him, but she didn’t really think so.
He had won. If there was a winner, there had to be a loser, and she was it. She had played him all wrong, because her mistake was in trying to play him at all. If she had simply given him his freedom with the least fuss possible, and tried to salvage some dignity for herself, he would likely have been more generous. Richard couldn’t be coerced; it was that simple.
She felt ineffably weary. Even though she had no doubt Carson would come through with the money, at the moment she couldn’t summon up much enthusiasm for the future.
She had left lamps on in the living room and foyer because she didn’t like walking into a dark apartment. Once she hadn’t worried about anything like that, because Richard had been with her. Sometimes, when she couldn’t bear the thought of being alone, she would have Kai spend the night, but tonight she would rather be alone than be with him. He seemed to enjoy seeing Richard get the best of her. She would fire him, she thought. His looks were undoubtedly an asset to the gallery, but there were a lot of good-looking young men in New York who were looking for an in to the art world, and a side door was as good as a front one.
She dropped her tiny antique beaded purse on the hall table and set the locks. Her heels tapped on the faux marble tiles as she crossed the foyer and stepped onto the plush oatmeal-colored Berber pile of the living room carpet. She caught movement out of the corner of her eye and whirled, panic momentarily robbing her of her voice. Pressing her hand to her chest as if she could calm her racing heart, she said, “How in hell did you get into the building?”
“I have a key. Convenient, isn’t it?”
“A key! I don’t believe you. How would you get a key to my apartment?”
“You know the old saying, it isn’t what you know, it’s who you know.”
“I don’t care who you know; no one has a key to this apartment but me.”
“Obviously, my dear, you’re wrong.”
The smugness rasped on Candra’s nerves. She let her gaze drift downward, and put a hint of contempt in her tone. “Are you going to a costume party, or have you mistaken the date for Halloween?”
“I’m not the one who’s made a mistake. You are.”
There didn’t seem to be any point in pretending ignorance. Candra was too tired and too angry to try, anyway. “This is because of the money. Look, it isn’t personal. I need money, a lot of it, and this is the only way I can think of to get it. It’s a one-time thing.”
Her assurance seemed to pass unheard. “Did you really think I’d let you wreck what I’ve worked so hard for?”
“You knew what you were getting into, so don’t play the victim.”
“What I know is that if there’s a victim, I won’t be it.” The words were soft, almost serene. The approach was not.
Suddenly alarmed, Candra backed up. “Get away from me! Get out of my apartment.”
“You aren’t giving the orders now, darling.” A gloved hand lifted, and in it was a long-bladed kitchen knife.
Candra made an instant decision, feinting to her left as if she would make a break for the door. Immediately she cut back right and dived for the telephone. It wasn’t a cordless; she had gone for style over convenience and chosen an ornate European desk model. She had time to punch in the 9 before the blade slashed downward, catching her on the arm. She screamed and threw herself backward, catching her right heel on the leg of the telephone table and sprawling on her back. She rolled, still screaming, and managed to gain her feet before the knife plunged into her back. An agony that was both icy and burning-hot speared through her, almost making her faint.