government. The rumors are true after all.”
He shrugged nonchalantly. “You’ve got the wrong guy, Genie, and the wrong rumor.”
“Oh, let’s talk about it later,” she said, pushing-her hair from her face with a nervous gesture. “I’ve had a hard day and I’m starving.” She looked at the elaborate menu and sighed. “I’m incapable of making any more decisions. What I’d really like is comfort food, ribs and fries—at Monty’s.”
The waiter looked pained and Cal laughed. “Why don’t you let me order for you?” He spoke to the waiter quickly, then turned back to her on the banquette. Their eyes met. Nice eyes, she told herself, like a red setter’s—no, the comparison was unfair. Sure, they were the same color, but his were shrewd.
And
she’d bet they could be hard when he wanted. She shivered suddenly. There was something about Cal Warrender that warned her he could be a tough adversary.
“I think you’ll find the food comforting enough,” he said lightly, “but I promise you I’ll take you to Monty’s when we get back to Washington.”
“Monty’s is in L.A. It used to be my favorite place when I was a kid.” She sighed. “It’s a pity our expectations of pleasure have to change when we grow up … from ribs and fries to oysters and truffles, milk shakes to champagne.”
“Oh, I don’t know, it’s not a bad swap….”
They laughed and he patted her hand encouragingly. “I’ll tell you a secret. You look more upset than I do, and I’m the guy who didn’t get the emerald.”
“You’re kidding!” Her eyes widened with astonishment as she stared at him. “Then who did?”
Cal shrugged, nodding in the direction of the door. “Maybe our friend Solovsky?” he suggested.
“Then it is true,” she murmured, watching as the Russian made his way through the restaurant to a table opposite them, in direct view but too far away to overhear. Solovsky bowed to them before taking his seat.
“I don’t know about true, but I’ll tell you something else strange,” Cal said. “Solovsky is alone.” Her eyebrows rose in a question and he explained, “Important Russians are never alone, there’s always someone hovering behind them to make sure they don’t pass on any secrets or defect to the West—and someone else behind the watcher to make sure
he
doesn’t defect. For a man of Valentin Solovsky’s prominence, to be alone is very strange indeed. I wonder how he got rid of the two guys in the bar.”
“Probably told them he was having a sandwich from room service and then sneaked in here alone for a feast,” she replied with a grin. “I’ll bet he couldn’t stand the sight of them any longer.”
Cal laughed, watching as she slid an oyster down her throat, closing her eyes with pleasure.
“I don’t know about Valentin,” she said, “but now
I’m
happy.” She glanced at the Russian. “I thought in the bar he looked a bit gloomy, but then Russians are, aren’t they? It’s a characteristic of their race.”
Her glance lingered on Solovsky as he studied his menu. He had a fascinating face, so romantic-looking, all planes and angles with deep-set gray eyes and thick, smooth, dark-blond hair. And that passionate-looking mouth…. He glanced up suddenly, catching her eye, and she felt herself blush, as if he could read her thoughts.
“I’ll tell you something,” she said quickly to Cal. “He looks like a movie star. I’d expect to see him starring with Garbo in
Ninotchka
. Put him up for President of Russia and
glasnost
will flourish! At least, it will among the female population of the U.S.”
The waiter poured more champagne and Cal said interestedly,“So you’re a California girl? The kind the Beach Boys had us all dreaming about?”
She shrugged. “California is lousy with tall, tanned, great-looking blondes. That’s why I left,” she added with a grin. “The competition was too tough. Yes, I’m Los Angeles born and bred. No, I wasn’t a
He shrugged nonchalantly. “You’ve got the wrong guy, Genie, and the wrong rumor.”
“Oh, let’s talk about it later,” she said, pushing-her hair from her face with a nervous gesture. “I’ve had a hard day and I’m starving.” She looked at the elaborate menu and sighed. “I’m incapable of making any more decisions. What I’d really like is comfort food, ribs and fries—at Monty’s.”
The waiter looked pained and Cal laughed. “Why don’t you let me order for you?” He spoke to the waiter quickly, then turned back to her on the banquette. Their eyes met. Nice eyes, she told herself, like a red setter’s—no, the comparison was unfair. Sure, they were the same color, but his were shrewd.
And
she’d bet they could be hard when he wanted. She shivered suddenly. There was something about Cal Warrender that warned her he could be a tough adversary.
“I think you’ll find the food comforting enough,” he said lightly, “but I promise you I’ll take you to Monty’s when we get back to Washington.”
“Monty’s is in L.A. It used to be my favorite place when I was a kid.” She sighed. “It’s a pity our expectations of pleasure have to change when we grow up … from ribs and fries to oysters and truffles, milk shakes to champagne.”
“Oh, I don’t know, it’s not a bad swap….”
They laughed and he patted her hand encouragingly. “I’ll tell you a secret. You look more upset than I do, and I’m the guy who didn’t get the emerald.”
“You’re kidding!” Her eyes widened with astonishment as she stared at him. “Then who did?”
Cal shrugged, nodding in the direction of the door. “Maybe our friend Solovsky?” he suggested.
“Then it is true,” she murmured, watching as the Russian made his way through the restaurant to a table opposite them, in direct view but too far away to overhear. Solovsky bowed to them before taking his seat.
“I don’t know about true, but I’ll tell you something else strange,” Cal said. “Solovsky is alone.” Her eyebrows rose in a question and he explained, “Important Russians are never alone, there’s always someone hovering behind them to make sure they don’t pass on any secrets or defect to the West—and someone else behind the watcher to make sure
he
doesn’t defect. For a man of Valentin Solovsky’s prominence, to be alone is very strange indeed. I wonder how he got rid of the two guys in the bar.”
“Probably told them he was having a sandwich from room service and then sneaked in here alone for a feast,” she replied with a grin. “I’ll bet he couldn’t stand the sight of them any longer.”
Cal laughed, watching as she slid an oyster down her throat, closing her eyes with pleasure.
“I don’t know about Valentin,” she said, “but now
I’m
happy.” She glanced at the Russian. “I thought in the bar he looked a bit gloomy, but then Russians are, aren’t they? It’s a characteristic of their race.”
Her glance lingered on Solovsky as he studied his menu. He had a fascinating face, so romantic-looking, all planes and angles with deep-set gray eyes and thick, smooth, dark-blond hair. And that passionate-looking mouth…. He glanced up suddenly, catching her eye, and she felt herself blush, as if he could read her thoughts.
“I’ll tell you something,” she said quickly to Cal. “He looks like a movie star. I’d expect to see him starring with Garbo in
Ninotchka
. Put him up for President of Russia and
glasnost
will flourish! At least, it will among the female population of the U.S.”
The waiter poured more champagne and Cal said interestedly,“So you’re a California girl? The kind the Beach Boys had us all dreaming about?”
She shrugged. “California is lousy with tall, tanned, great-looking blondes. That’s why I left,” she added with a grin. “The competition was too tough. Yes, I’m Los Angeles born and bred. No, I wasn’t a
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