can be very dangerous when they turn, hook, and gore.
“It’s all right,” he said.
“It isn’t,” she said. “They sent me here to lure you, didn’t they? Even if we get out, they can use me to track you. You should leave me, Nicholai. Walk away now and never come back.”
“No.”
She looked back again toward the window, and Nicholai realized that she was afraid she’d been followed from the cinema. “I need to get back before the film is over.”
“To learn how it ends?” he asked.
She shook her head. “I’ve seen it three times. The first two times, I cried.”
“And this time?”
“I will probably cry again.”
He pulled her to him and kissed her. Her lips were soft and warm.
Nicholai brushed the hair away from her neck, kissed her there, and was rewarded with a moan. Encouraged, he unzipped her dress and ran his hand down the warm skin of her back.
“We shouldn’t be doing this,” she murmured. “This is crazy.”
But she shrugged the dress off her shoulders and let it slide down her hips. Then she unsnapped her bra and pressed her breasts against him. “You feel so good.”
Nicholai picked her up and carried her into the bedroom.
Setting her on the bed, he peeled the dress down her legs, revealing her black garter and stockings.
Solange opened her legs, nudged her panties to the side, and said, “Quickly.”
He unzipped his trousers and fell on top of her. Entered her with one thrust and found her wet and ready. She grabbed his buttocks and pulled him in deeper.
“Come in me.”
“What about you?”
“Just come in me. Hard. Please.”
She took control of their lovemaking, pulling him into her until she felt him swell and then climax, crying out.
Nicholai lay on the bed, watching her get dressed, elegant even in her postcoital deshabille. She sat on the edge of the bed as she rolled the stockings back up her legs.
“Breakfast tomorrow?” he asked. “I found a place, La Pagode, that serves quite good croissants.”
“A date?” she asked wryly.
“We can sit at separate tables,” Nicholai said. “Or will the emperor miss you?”
“He’ll be busy with affairs of state,” she answered. “Trying to decide if he’s run by the French or the Americans.”
“And what will he decide?”
“He won’t,” she said, standing up and pulling the dress up over her hips. She frowned, as if she thought her hips were a bit too broad. “The Americans will decide for him. They will decide for everyone.”
“Not for us.”
“No?” She smiled as a mother might smile at a small boy’s heroic fantasy.
“No,” he answered.
She leaned down and kissed him. “And what will we decide?”
“To be together.”
“Yes?”
“Yes.”
He had money now, enough money for them to live happily in a safe place somewhere. He told her all about Voroshenin, the connection to his mother and his family’s fortune, about the safety deposit box, the bank accounts, the passports.
“We could go anywhere,” he said. “France perhaps.”
“I would like that, yes.”
“Maybe to the Basque country,” he said. “Did you know that I speak Basque?”
She laughed. “That is very odd, Nicholai.”
“I learned it in prison.”
“Of course you did,” she said. “Yes, the Basque country is very pretty. We could buy a chateau, we could live quietly…”
Her face turned more serious than he had ever seen it. “I love you.”
“I love you.”
She broke from his embrace, went into the living room, found her purse, and took out a lipstick. Coming back into the bedroom, she sat in front of the mirror and redid her lips. “You smeared them.”
“I’m glad.”
She checked her image in the mirror, then, satisfied, stood up. Nicholai got up, then held her tight. She accepted the embrace, then broke it and held him at arm’s length. “I have to get back.”
“The film,” Nicholai said. “How does it end?”
Her laugh was enchanting.
The heroine watches them kill her lover, she told him.
128
NICHOLAI WAS EMBARRASSED about sneaking back down the stairway, but he understood Solange’s concern – Bao Dai would not make a complacent cuckold and he would take it out on her, not him.
He walked down the street to the Sporting Bar.
Haverford was already there, sipping on a cold beer. A small paper shopping bag was set on the empty chair beside him.
Nicholai sat down at the next table and both men looked out onto the street.
“You’re the talk of the town,” Haverford said.
“So I hear.”
“Bad idea for a man in your position,” Haverford said. “As a general rule, by the way, and understanding that you’re relatively new at this sort of thing, a ‘secret agent’ should try to
“I’ll try to keep that in mind.” He turned to look directly into Haverford’s eyes. “Diamond brought Solange here.”
Haverford didn’t know. Surprise – and perhaps anger – showed in his eyes.
“He’s tracking you down,” Haverford said.
“Because…”
“You went off the radar, Nicholai,” Haverford said. “Because you know things that would be extremely -”
“I wasn’t intended to survive the Temple of the Green Truth, was I?” Nicholai asked. “Diamond arranged for me to be killed there.”
Nicholai would have thought it impossible, but Haverford actually looked ashamed. “It wasn’t me, Nicholai.”
“But the Chinese rescued me. Why?”
“You tell me,” Haverford answered. “You brought the weapons down here, didn’t you? You came to Saigon before you even knew that Solange was -”
“But you were here,” Nicholai said. “You knew.”
“I surmised,” Haverford corrected. “I didn’t know if you were alive or dead -”
“Odd, you’re the second person to say that to me today.”
“-but I did my best to enter the very interesting mind of Nicholai Hel,” Haverford said. “I sat at the
