check. His eyebrows rose-the amount was indeed obscene. “And how will I earn this?” he asked.
Louis sat down. “I need you to confirm some information I received concerning the takeover of WestTex Incorporated. All you have to do is copy a few files for me and that check is yours.”
“Confirm?” Eric said. “Then you’ve already been in contact with somebody from Redman International?”
Louis casually waved a hand.
“Who?”
“Doesn’t matter. What matters is that I don’t trust this person. Unlike yourself, he doesn’t want to see Redman burn.”
So, it’s a man. “What makes you think I do?”
“Because you hate George,” Louis said. “I think we both know that Redman has destroyed your reputation. You couldn’t get a job in this city even if you wanted to flip burgers. It’s also obvious that Redman is behind the pipes bursting in your apartment. He canceled your insurance for a reason. He wants you out of his building and out of New York.”
“How do you know all this?”
Louis sipped his drink and met Eric’s gaze levelly. “There’s nothing I don’t know about you, Eric. Not the beating you gave Leana Redman the night of Redman International’s opening, nor the contract you put out on her while you were in the hospital.”
Eric could only stare. If the man wanted to, he could blackmail him with this information.
“So,” Louis said. “We have a deal?”
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
From the great semicircular balcony of their corner suite at the Hotel de Paris, Leana stood looking down at the crowded port of Monte Carlo. It was late afternoon, the sun was setting and in the distance on a jutting, rocky promontory, she could see the Palace, framed beyond by a deepening-blue sky and the Mediterranean.
The air was cool, clean and smelled of salt. Dozens of yachts and sail boats were returning to the harbor after a day at sea. All around her, the charming Edwardian villas she had come to love as a child were a refreshing change from the skyscrapers of Manhattan.
It was still difficult for her to believe that only yesterday she had been in New York, single and living a nightmare.
Behind her, she heard a faint groan and the rustling of sheets. She turned to look across the room at the bed and found Michael settling onto his stomach, his arms outstretched, his face turned to hers. He was breathing soundly and Leana thought that he was beautiful.
She was glad he could sleep. For her, sleep hadn’t come. Everything that led to them coming across the Atlantic to this hotel room was still whirling in her mind.
It seemed unreal that she married Michael only that morning and that they made love all afternoon. Last night, Mario nearly killed him. If she hadn’t looked up from the car’s back seat and seen Michael standing in traffic, if she hadn’t screamed for Mario to not shoot, she knew that either he or one of his men would have done so.
And Michael would be dead now.
The idea that her association with Mario might have led to Michael’s death was something she didn’t want to face. Michael came into her life at its darkest point and he lifted it. All those days they spent cleaning and painting her apartment-and going out on the town when they were too exhausted to continue-meant the world to her. He had changed her life for the better and she loved him for it.
Today, marrying Michael had felt right, regardless of how briefly she’d known him. Leana knew she would never have a relationship with Mario. She knew he would never leave his wife for her. His father wouldn’t permit it. If she had gone with him to the apartment he offered, if she had allowed him to come in and out of her life as he had in the past, she knew she would have been miserable.
And so she left with Michael. To her surprise, Mario didn’t put up a fight. Instead, he held her, kissed her and told her that the situation with Eric Parker would be taken care of while she was gone. Leana knew what that meant and the thought chilled her.
Mario was going to kill him.
It was in the cab that Michael proposed.
After she told him about the gun, the note and the contact Eric Parker put on her, he surprised her by removing two airline tickets from his inside jacket pocket. “You know I love you,” he said. “You’re too smart not to know it. Marry me. We’ll fly to Europe. You’ll be safe there. You’ll be safe with me. We’ll get away from this and we’ll be happy. I promise.”
It was all so easy.
Leana was so frightened by what was happening in her life, so confused and worried about her future, she realized that she wanted to leave New York, that she didn’t want to return until Eric Parker-and his contract-had been dealt with. She would be too scared living there otherwise.
Without giving it another thought, she took the small Tiffany box he gave her, opened it and found inside one of the largest solitaire diamonds she’d ever seen. “Of course, I’ll marry you.”
It was morning when they arrived in Nice. Rested from the trip over, they rented a car, drove the short distance to Monte Carlo and checked into their hotel suite only long enough to take a shower. It was then, while Michael undressed, that Leana noticed the dark bruises on his back, stomach and shoulders. Alarmed, she asked him what happened.
“I was mugged,” he said simply.
“Mugged? When?”
He put a finger to her lips. “It happened yesterday morning. Three guys jumped me on Avenue B.” He shrugged. “They didn’t get much money and I’m still alive. That’s what matters.”
“What were you doing on Avenue B?”
“Research for a book.”
“You’re taking this awfully calmly.”
“Don’t forget I’m an actor.”
She put her arms lightly around him.
“Did you go to the police?”
“What good would that have done?”
He was right, of course. Leana recalled her own experience when the man harassed her in Washington Square. She felt the same as Michael. The police could do little in situations such as this. There were too many people in the city and not enough officers to make a difference. “Why didn’t you tell me this sooner?” she asked.
“I didn’t want to worry you.”
“You should have,” she said. “Are you all right?”
“In a few hours we’ll be married,” he said. “I’ve never felt better.”
“You'd better not be acting now,” she said.
At Cartier, they bought their wedding rings-two simple bands of platinum. At a men’s clothing store, Michael found a charcoal-gray suit and black loafers. And at a small boutique, Leana bought a simple yet elegant white silk dress. Although it was not the wedding dress of her childhood dreams, she accepted this because she knew now that dreams rarely came true. And so what if they didn’t? Too many things had gone wrong in her life. She felt lucky to have found a man who wanted to spend his life with her.
When they had everything they needed, they went to the crowded port, chartered a yacht and were wed by the yacht’s captain in international waters at sea. Now, as dark clouds moved in from the west, eclipsing the setting sun, Leana left the balcony and stepped into the bedroom, her hair stirring in the rising breeze.
She closed the French doors. Michael was still asleep. Despite the diminishing light, she could see the bruises on his back and thought how painful they looked. She wondered how he could move, let alone sleep. But as she
