door.
He was feeling a few aches and pains himself, Jared realized as he soaped his body thoroughly. What Kevin lacked in skill, he made up for in sheer brute strength, and he'd been perfectly honest when he'd said the match had been closer than any that had gone before.
"Dr. Ryker." The ponderous, measured cadence to those words announced Ed Betz as surely as the solid square shadow thrown on the frosted pane. "I wonder if it would be possible to see you for a few minutes?" Jared slammed the soap into its compartment on the
wall and let the spray wash the foam from his body. Foam. The word suddenly reminded him of McCords description of Betz's probable reaction to his plans for this weekend, and he smiled. "I'll be out in a minute, Betz," he said politely. "Unless you'd prefer to come in."
"No, I can wait, Dr. Ryker," Betz answered with perfect seriousness.
Jared shook his head in amazement. If Betz had considered the matter of utmost urgency, Jared hadn't the slightest doubt he would have accepted his invitation. Lord, he wasn't even safe from the man under a spraying shower. Well, he might just as well get it over with and see what was on that methodical, snaillike mind. He abruptly turned off the shower and opened the door.
Betz was standing outside the stall. Dressed in one of his usual dark business suits, he offered a towel to Jared with his customary impersonal efficiency. "I'm glad you were almost finished," he commented. "I did want to get you settled before I left the chateau. I received a call from the senator asking me to try to make it to Washington by noon to coordinate the security for his trip to California next week."
"Settled?" Jared began to dry himself with the towel. "I appreciate your concern, but I don't think I'll need your help. Run along to Washington, Betz."
"As I said, I intend to do that immediately after I see you . . . er . . . happy to stay here," Betz said. "I wouldn't have considered leaving before, but now that I'm sure you'll have something to occupy you, I don't think there's any further cause for alarm." He smiled with a satisfaction bordering on smugness. "I believe you'll be very content here when you see the surprise that arrived at the chateau for you a few hours ago."
Jared was dressing rapidly, and he looked up from zipping his jeans to frown impatiently. "Stop playing cute, Betz. What the hell are you talking about?" He
pulled a cream-colored sweatshirt over his head and settled it around his hips before taking a comb from the tray over the basin and starting to comb his hair. "If you're trying to be mysterious, believe me, it isn't your forte."
A little smile was tugging at Betz's lips as he met Jared's eyes in the mirror. "I have no intention of being mysterious, Dr. Ryker. In fact, I'm quite eager to show you what I've arranged for you, if you'll come along with me now."
"Certainly," Jared drawled as he threw the comb back on the shelf. "I don't think I've seen you this excited over anything but the New York Times crossword puzzle." He gestured mockingly. "By all means lead on, Betz."
Jared was feeling a mild flicker of curiosity as he followed the security man up a flight of stairs to a hallway on the ground floor of the chateau. Their heels clicked on the echoing parquet-floored corridor as they made their way toward the grand staircase.
The bedroom door on the second floor before which Betz paused was in a generally unused wing of the chateau. For a moment there was a glint of triumph in the usually expressionless face as he opened the door and stepped aside. "After you, Dr. Ryker."
Jared darted him a derisive glance. Betz was really carrying his little surprise to extremes.
As he entered the room, darkness enveloped him. When his vision adjusted slightly he could make out vague shapes and a general impression of the same Louis XIV elegance in furnishings that characterized the other rooms in the chateau. Then, as his eyes became fully accustomed to the lack
He was feeling a few aches and pains himself, Jared realized as he soaped his body thoroughly. What Kevin lacked in skill, he made up for in sheer brute strength, and he'd been perfectly honest when he'd said the match had been closer than any that had gone before.
"Dr. Ryker." The ponderous, measured cadence to those words announced Ed Betz as surely as the solid square shadow thrown on the frosted pane. "I wonder if it would be possible to see you for a few minutes?" Jared slammed the soap into its compartment on the
wall and let the spray wash the foam from his body. Foam. The word suddenly reminded him of McCords description of Betz's probable reaction to his plans for this weekend, and he smiled. "I'll be out in a minute, Betz," he said politely. "Unless you'd prefer to come in."
"No, I can wait, Dr. Ryker," Betz answered with perfect seriousness.
Jared shook his head in amazement. If Betz had considered the matter of utmost urgency, Jared hadn't the slightest doubt he would have accepted his invitation. Lord, he wasn't even safe from the man under a spraying shower. Well, he might just as well get it over with and see what was on that methodical, snaillike mind. He abruptly turned off the shower and opened the door.
Betz was standing outside the stall. Dressed in one of his usual dark business suits, he offered a towel to Jared with his customary impersonal efficiency. "I'm glad you were almost finished," he commented. "I did want to get you settled before I left the chateau. I received a call from the senator asking me to try to make it to Washington by noon to coordinate the security for his trip to California next week."
"Settled?" Jared began to dry himself with the towel. "I appreciate your concern, but I don't think I'll need your help. Run along to Washington, Betz."
"As I said, I intend to do that immediately after I see you . . . er . . . happy to stay here," Betz said. "I wouldn't have considered leaving before, but now that I'm sure you'll have something to occupy you, I don't think there's any further cause for alarm." He smiled with a satisfaction bordering on smugness. "I believe you'll be very content here when you see the surprise that arrived at the chateau for you a few hours ago."
Jared was dressing rapidly, and he looked up from zipping his jeans to frown impatiently. "Stop playing cute, Betz. What the hell are you talking about?" He
pulled a cream-colored sweatshirt over his head and settled it around his hips before taking a comb from the tray over the basin and starting to comb his hair. "If you're trying to be mysterious, believe me, it isn't your forte."
A little smile was tugging at Betz's lips as he met Jared's eyes in the mirror. "I have no intention of being mysterious, Dr. Ryker. In fact, I'm quite eager to show you what I've arranged for you, if you'll come along with me now."
"Certainly," Jared drawled as he threw the comb back on the shelf. "I don't think I've seen you this excited over anything but the New York Times crossword puzzle." He gestured mockingly. "By all means lead on, Betz."
Jared was feeling a mild flicker of curiosity as he followed the security man up a flight of stairs to a hallway on the ground floor of the chateau. Their heels clicked on the echoing parquet-floored corridor as they made their way toward the grand staircase.
The bedroom door on the second floor before which Betz paused was in a generally unused wing of the chateau. For a moment there was a glint of triumph in the usually expressionless face as he opened the door and stepped aside. "After you, Dr. Ryker."
Jared darted him a derisive glance. Betz was really carrying his little surprise to extremes.
As he entered the room, darkness enveloped him. When his vision adjusted slightly he could make out vague shapes and a general impression of the same Louis XIV elegance in furnishings that characterized the other rooms in the chateau. Then, as his eyes became fully accustomed to the lack
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