the tools of the trade, and knowing where to find whatever he needed, he produced a martini glass and poured the mix into it from a shaker and set it down in front of her.
“There you are, amant. A fitting drink for Quest’s actress. ”
“What is it?”
“The house special. The Glitterbug’s version of a French Kiss.”
“You used to be a bartender here.”
“ Oui, one of the best in New Orleans.” He popped the top off of a beer and raised it in the air. “Here’s to patience, and adaptability. He that has patience, can have what he will.”
He recited poetry. She would never have guessed that. She answered, “How poor are they that have not patience. What wound did not heal but by degrees.”
He raised his beer bottle a little higher. “To Franklin and Shakespeare. And to survival. Let’s hope by the time this is over one of us hasn’t killed the other.”
“You don’t like me?”
“About as much as you like me, amant. ”
After all she had survived on her travels around the world, dying in the trunk of a car on foreign soil held no appeal.
Ruza wished she had her purse. She needed a mint to soothe her raw throat from too much screaming. The mace would have been a good thing to have about now, too.
She felt around in the darkness. The trunk was empty, not even a tire iron.
An hour later the car stopped. Ruza closed her eyes and waited for her kidnapper to open the trunk. She lay still, as if she’d been overcome by exhaust fumes. Not far from the truth.
“Come on, Cookie, wake up.”
She didn’t move. Waited until she could feel him draw closer. Until the smell of his cologne told her he’d stuck his head inside the trunk. She recognized the scent now. It was Duperau. Impossible, she thought. In Russia the cologne cost a small fortune. This man didn’t look like he could afford toilet water straight out of the pot.
“Come, mon coeur. Let me help you.”
Keying on the direction of his voice, Ruza squinted open one eye, sized up her assailant, then doubled up her fist and gave him an uppercut straight to his jaw.
He staggered back, leaving a mere two-foot opening for her to escape the trunk. Ruza scrambled out just as he was getting his balance back. That was when she aimed her foot and kicked him in the crotch.
“Bon Dieu, mon coeur,” he groaned.
He bent forward, grabbing his box of jewels, and when he did Ruza doubled up her fist once more and gave him another punch. When he dropped to his knees, she turned and ran.
She got ten yards when she noticed her surroundings. Nothing but tangled foliage, woods and water. Dear God in heaven, the gypsy had driven her to the ends of the earth.
Ruza realized her only escape was the road. That would require stealing his car. She rounded the Eldorado just as the gypsy staggered back to his feet. She was reaching for the door when he made a wild dive at her.
Knocked off balance, Ruza was taken out like a football quarterback a yard from the goal line.
“No!” She began to fight like a cat attacked by a bulldog. She scratched and clawed, tried to raise her knee to his crotch. She gave it a good effort, but the gypsy was a resilient advisory.
Pinned on her back, he grinned down at her. “Careful, Cookie, when we get ta know each other better you might want ta use dat. It would be a sad day if’n I couldn’t perform up ta your expectations because of a little misunderstandin’ on our first date.”
“I assure you there has been no misunderstanding, you lout. You accosted me and stuffed me in the trunk of your car. If that’s what you call a date you’re as crazy as you look.”
“I was only followin’ instruction, mon coeur. ”
That took the fight out of her. “Whose instructions?”
“Your daughter’s.”
“My Cassie would never hire someone to kidnap me, or stuff me in a trunk, Mr. Lazie. You’re not only a kidnapper and a lout, you’re a liar. Now get off me before I scream.”
“That would be a waste of
“There you are, amant. A fitting drink for Quest’s actress. ”
“What is it?”
“The house special. The Glitterbug’s version of a French Kiss.”
“You used to be a bartender here.”
“ Oui, one of the best in New Orleans.” He popped the top off of a beer and raised it in the air. “Here’s to patience, and adaptability. He that has patience, can have what he will.”
He recited poetry. She would never have guessed that. She answered, “How poor are they that have not patience. What wound did not heal but by degrees.”
He raised his beer bottle a little higher. “To Franklin and Shakespeare. And to survival. Let’s hope by the time this is over one of us hasn’t killed the other.”
“You don’t like me?”
“About as much as you like me, amant. ”
After all she had survived on her travels around the world, dying in the trunk of a car on foreign soil held no appeal.
Ruza wished she had her purse. She needed a mint to soothe her raw throat from too much screaming. The mace would have been a good thing to have about now, too.
She felt around in the darkness. The trunk was empty, not even a tire iron.
An hour later the car stopped. Ruza closed her eyes and waited for her kidnapper to open the trunk. She lay still, as if she’d been overcome by exhaust fumes. Not far from the truth.
“Come on, Cookie, wake up.”
She didn’t move. Waited until she could feel him draw closer. Until the smell of his cologne told her he’d stuck his head inside the trunk. She recognized the scent now. It was Duperau. Impossible, she thought. In Russia the cologne cost a small fortune. This man didn’t look like he could afford toilet water straight out of the pot.
“Come, mon coeur. Let me help you.”
Keying on the direction of his voice, Ruza squinted open one eye, sized up her assailant, then doubled up her fist and gave him an uppercut straight to his jaw.
He staggered back, leaving a mere two-foot opening for her to escape the trunk. Ruza scrambled out just as he was getting his balance back. That was when she aimed her foot and kicked him in the crotch.
“Bon Dieu, mon coeur,” he groaned.
He bent forward, grabbing his box of jewels, and when he did Ruza doubled up her fist once more and gave him another punch. When he dropped to his knees, she turned and ran.
She got ten yards when she noticed her surroundings. Nothing but tangled foliage, woods and water. Dear God in heaven, the gypsy had driven her to the ends of the earth.
Ruza realized her only escape was the road. That would require stealing his car. She rounded the Eldorado just as the gypsy staggered back to his feet. She was reaching for the door when he made a wild dive at her.
Knocked off balance, Ruza was taken out like a football quarterback a yard from the goal line.
“No!” She began to fight like a cat attacked by a bulldog. She scratched and clawed, tried to raise her knee to his crotch. She gave it a good effort, but the gypsy was a resilient advisory.
Pinned on her back, he grinned down at her. “Careful, Cookie, when we get ta know each other better you might want ta use dat. It would be a sad day if’n I couldn’t perform up ta your expectations because of a little misunderstandin’ on our first date.”
“I assure you there has been no misunderstanding, you lout. You accosted me and stuffed me in the trunk of your car. If that’s what you call a date you’re as crazy as you look.”
“I was only followin’ instruction, mon coeur. ”
That took the fight out of her. “Whose instructions?”
“Your daughter’s.”
“My Cassie would never hire someone to kidnap me, or stuff me in a trunk, Mr. Lazie. You’re not only a kidnapper and a lout, you’re a liar. Now get off me before I scream.”
“That would be a waste of
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