A Perfect Stranger by Danielle Steel Page A

laughed. “Promise?”
    “All right, I promise. But not another fur.”
    “Then something that sparkles.”
    “I’ll see.” But where would she wear it? At home in San Francisco, sitting by the fire? The futility of it all almost overwhelmed her as she smiled at him from the doorway and waved at him.

CHAPTER 4

    At the airport the chauffeur slid the car to the curb at the section marked DEPARTING FLIGHTS and showed the policeman his special pass. John Henry’s drivers had gotten special passes from the governor’s office, and they were renewed every year. It allowed them to park where they wanted to, and now it would allow the chauffeur to leave the limousine at the curb while he took Raphaella inside to put her on the plane. The airline was always warned that she was coming, and she was always allowed to board the plane before everyone else.
    Now, as they walked sedately down the huge bustling hallway, the chauffeur carrying her tote bag, strangers glanced at the startlingly beautiful woman in the mink coat and the veil. The hat added an aura of drama and there were gaunt hollows beneath the perfectly carved ivory cheekbones that framed her splendid dark eyes.
    “Tom, would you wait here for me for a minute, please?” She had touched his arm gently to stop himas he marched dutifully along the airport corridor beside her, bent on getting her to the plane as quickly as he could. Mr. Phillips didn’t like her lingering in airports, not that reporters or photographers had bothered them for years. Raphaella had been so totally kept away from public attention that even the reporters no longer knew who she was.
    She left the chauffeur standing near a pillar and walked rapidly into the bookstore, glancing around as the driver took up his post against the wall, holding her large leather tote bag tightly in one hand. From where he stood, he could admire her striking beauty as she wandered between the shelves of magazines and books and candy, looking very different from the other travelers wandering past in parkas and car coats and old jeans. Here and there you’d see an attractive woman, or maybe a well-dressed man, but nothing to compare with Mrs. Phillips. Tom watched her take a hardcover book off a shelf, walk to the cash register, and reach into her bag.
    It was then that Alex Hale came hurrying through the airport, his briefcase in his hand, and a suit bag draped over the other arm. He was distracted. It was early, but he still had to call his office before he got on the plane. He stopped at a bank of telephones just outside the bookshop, put down his bags, and dug into his trouser pocket for a dime. He dialed his office number quickly and inserted the extra coins the operator requested as his receptionist picked up the phone. He had several last-minute messages to leave for his partners, there was a memo he wanted to explain to his secretary before leaving, and he was anxious to know if the call he was expecting from London had come, and just as he asked the last question hehappened to turn around and with amusement he saw a copy of his mother’s latest book changing hands at the counter of the bookstore. A woman was buying it, wearing a mink coat and a black hat with a veil. He stared at her with fascination as the secretary on the other end put him on hold while she took another call. And it was then that Raphaella began to walk toward him, her eyes only slightly concealed by the veil, and the book carried in her gloved hand. As she passed near him he was suddenly aware of the lure of her perfume, and then suddenly it dawned on him that this was not the first time he had seen those eyes.
    “Oh, my God.” The words were a whisper as he stood there staring. It was the woman on the steps. Suddenly there she was, disappearing into the crowd at the airport, with his mother’s latest book in her hand. For an insane moment he wanted to shout “Wait!” but he was trapped on hold and couldn’t move until the