The Stars of Mithra: Hidden Star. Нора Робертс
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doesn’t like to drop names,” Cade said quickly. “Sweetheart, maybe you ought to make those calls. Remember the time difference in London.”
“Where did you meet?” Leona demanded.
Bailey opened her mouth, struggling to remember if they’d spun this part of the lie for Ronald. “Actually—”
“At the Smithsonian,” Cade said smoothly. “In front of the Hope Diamond. I was researching a case, and Bailey was sketching designs. She looked so intent and artistic. It took me twenty minutes of fast talking and following her around—remember how you threatened to call the security guard, sweetheart? But I finally charmed her into having a cup of coffee with me. And speaking of coffee—”
“This is just ridiculous,” Bailey said, interrupting him. “Absolutely ridiculous. Cade, this is your mother, and I’m just not having it.” She turned, faced Leona directly. “We did not meet in the Smithsonian, and the Princess of Wales is not my cousin. At least I seriously doubt it. I met Cade on Friday morning, when I went to his office to hire him. I needed a private investigator because I have amnesia, a blue diamond and over a million dollars in cash.”
Leona waited ten humming seconds while her foot tapped. Then her lips firmed. “Well, I can see neither of you intends to tell the simple truth. As you prefer to make up outrageous fabrications, I can only presume that you’re perfectly suited to one another.”
She snatched up her bag and marched to the door with outraged dignity in every step. “Cade, I’ll wait to hear from you when you decide to grant me the courtesy of the simple truth.”
While Bailey simply stared, Cade grinned like a fool at the door his mother had closed with a snap.
“I don’t understand. I did tell her the truth.”
“And now I know what they mean by ‘the truth shall set you free.’” He let out a whooping laugh, swung her back up into his arms. “She’s so ticked off now she’ll leave me alone for a week. Maybe two.” He gave Bailey an enthusiastic kiss as he headed for the stairs. “I’m crazy about you. Who would have thought telling her the real story would have gotten her off my back?”
Still laughing, he carried her into the bedroom and dropped her on the mattress. “We’ve got to celebrate. I’ve got some champagne chilled. I’m going to get you drunk again.”
Pushing her hair out of her face, she sat up. “Cade, she’s your mother. This is shameful.”
“No, it’s survival.” He leaned over, gave her a smacking kiss this time. “And, sweetheart, we’re both black sheep now. I can’t tell you how much more fun that’s going to be for me.”
“I don’t think I want to be a black sheep,” she called as he headed out again.
“Too late.” His laughter echoed back to her.
Chapter 9
They did make it out to dinner. But they settled for grilled burgers and potatoes fried in peanut oil at a country fair in rural Maryland. He’d thought about a romantic little restaurant, then a fight through the teeming crowds downtown for the huge fireworks display.
Then inspiration had struck. Ferris wheels and shooting galleries. Live music, whirling lights, the flash of fireflies in a nearby field, with fireworks to top it off.
It was, he thought, the perfect first date.
When he told her just that, while she clung to him with screams locked in her throat on the whizzing car of the Tilt-A-Whirl, she laughed, shut her eyes tight and hung on for her life.
He wanted to ride everything, and he pulled her along from line to line, as eager as any of the children tugging on an indulgent parent’s hand. She was spun, shaken, twirled and zoomed until her head revolved and her stomach flopped.
Then he tilted her face upward for inspection, declared that since she wasn’t turning green yet they could do it all again.
So they did.
“Now, you need a prize,” he decided as she staggered off the Octopus.
“No more cotton candy. I’m begging you.”
“I was thinking more of an elephant.” He hooked an arm around her waist and headed toward the shooting gallery. “That big purple one up there.”
It was three feet tall, with a turned-up trunk and toenails painted a bright pink. An elephant. The thought of elephants made her smile bloom brilliantly.
“Oh, it’s wonderful.” She grinned, fluttered her lashes at Cade. “I want it.”
“Then it’s my job to get it for you. Just stand back, little lady.” He plunked down bills, chose his weapon. Cheery-faced rabbits and ducks rolled by, with the occasional wolf or bear rearing up at odd moments to threaten. Cade sighted the air gun and fired.
Bailey grinned, then applauded, then gaped as wildlife died in droves. “You didn’t miss once.” She goggled at him. “Not once.”
Her wide-eyed admiration made him feel like a teenager showing off for the prom queen. “She wants the elephant,” he told the attendant, then laughed when she launched herself into his arms.
“Thank you. You’re wonderful. You’re amazing.”
Since each statement was punctuated by eager kisses, he thought she might like the floppy-eared brown dog, as well. “Want another?”
“Man, you’re killing me here,” the attendant muttered, then sighed as Cade pulled out more bills.
“Want to give it a try?” Cade offered the rifle to Bailey.
“Maybe.” She bit her lip and studied her prey. It had looked simple enough when Cade did it. “All right.”
“Just sight through the little V at the end of the barrel,” he began, stepping behind her to adjust her stance.
“I see it.” She held her breath and pulled the trigger. The little pop had her jolting, but the ducks swam on, and the rabbits continued to hop. “Did I miss?”
“Only by a mile or so.” And he was dead certain the woman had never held a gun in her life. “Try again.”
She tried again, and again. By the time she’d managed to nip a few feathers and ruffle some fur, Cade had put twenty dollars back in the attendant’s grateful hands.
“It looked so easy when you did it.”
“That’s okay, sweetheart, you were getting the hang of it. What’d she win?”
The attendant perused his lowest row of prizes, generally reserved for children under twelve, and came up with a small plastic duck.
“I’ll take it.” Delighted, she tucked it in the pocket of her slacks. “My first trophy.”
With hands linked, they strolled the midway, listening to the screams, the distant music of a bluegrass band, the windy whirl of rides. She loved the lights, the carnival colors, bright as jewels in the balmy night. And the smells of frying oil, of spun sugar and spiced sauces.
It seemed so easy, as if there couldn’t be any trouble in the world—only lights and music and laughter.
“I don’t know if I’ve ever been to a country carnival before,” she told him. “But if I have, this one is the best.”
“I still owe you a candlelight dinner.”
She turned her head to smile at him. “I’ll settle for another ride on the Ferris wheel.”
“Sure you’re up to it?”
“I want to go around again. With you.”
She stood in line, flirted with a toddler who kept his head on his father’s shoulder and peeked at her with huge blue eyes.