A Thousand Kisses Deep (16 page)

Who would have thought this man could be so gentle and unselfish. A man who had spent years in prison. A man reported to be the most vicious rat fighter in the business.

Eva stretched like a cat and sat up slowly. She looked around the room, saw her dress on the floor not far from her sandals. The room was quiet. The music had stopped.

Sly was in the bathroom with the door closed.

She slid off the bed and walked to where she
'd
seen him retrieve the CD from the cabinet. She opened it and stared at his collection. It wasn't much of a CD collection, but he seem to have a large variety of cassette tapes.

Curious, she began to sift through the cassettes. They were labeled and dated. "C is for Closet," she read.

Suddenly her heart rate picked up and then her throat closed off making it hard to breathe.

She picked up two more, read the titles. The cassettes she realized, were copies of her sessions with Dr. Fielding.

This is about you. This is for you.

No wonder he was so in tune to what she needed. What she feared. Every secret. Every private thought.

Eva felt sick. So used and violated that it made her nauseous.

She flipped through the tapes, selected "S is for Survival and Shackles,"
and
popped it into
the
recorder.

"When the game is over and the predator has caught his prey, what are you thinking about, Eva?"

She hit Stop, then Fast Forward. Stop. Play.

"I'm off to
Greece
again."

"Will you see your father?"

"He'll be at Simon's party."

Her knees buckled and she sank to the floor. Sly had copies of all her private sessions with Fielding. Knew everything. Everything…

She suddenly felt cold. Cold and so sick she covered her mouth to keep from retching.

She crawled to her dress and scooped it up along with her shoes. Slipping it on, she dismissed her underwear and slid on her shoes.

She had to get out of there before he came out of the bathroom. She scrambled to her feet and bolted for the door. Before she reached the companionway tears were stinging her eyes, making the stairs a blur. She stumbled up them, bile filling her throat.

It was all a game. Everything in her life was a game. Nothing was real. Nothing.

Not even Sly McEwen.

Chapter 12

«
^
»

"
I
'
ve waited a long time for this day. Of course we have a deal," Holic said. "Evka has been in my thoughts since the day I laid eyes on her. She is worth any price. A few worthless lives? Certainly."

"It will be more than a few," the Chameleon assured.

"Ten, twenty. A hundred. The number is insignificant for someone who enjoys his work as much as I do."

Holic Reznik was a man who had made his mark early in life. By age twenty-five every government agency in the country had put him on their most-wanted list Now at age forty, with hundreds of kills to his credit, he was not only a legend in his own right, but the most feared international assassin across the country.

The Chameleon smiled. "Simon assures me that Evka is more beautiful than last year."

Holic's dark eyes danced with lust. "It is hard to imagine that she could be more magnificent than the last time I saw her."

The Chameleon handed Holic a glass of his best brandy, then raised his own glass. When Holic followed suit, he toasted, "To our alliance, and to my Evka."

"Prost!"
Holic
cheered in his Austrian accent. "To our mutual business, and to the most beautiful woman I have seen in years."

"I have registered you at Cupata under the name Edwin Casta, as you instructed. After
midnight
I will bring Evka to your unlocked room. At twelve-thirty you will enter and find her there waiting for you."

"Naked in my bed."

The Chameleon thought about arguing, but he didn't. Once their deal was made she would be Holic's property. "As you wish. Evka will be in your bed."

"Excellent." Holic set his glass on the table. "Do you have the list?"

The Chameleon reached into his pocket for the small canister. "The names are in order, with a date and location behind each one. Several months' work."

He handed over the microfilm—marked men and women who had found their way on to his kill list. All powerful people on both sides of the spectrum from government agents to underworld associates who could become potential threats to the Chameleon's self-proclaimed destiny.

Holic pocketed the canister. "Is your old enemy, Adolf Merrick, on the list?"

"I killed
Merrick
years ago, and though he still breathes, he is a walking corpse. I rejoice in that. It is the ultimate victory to know that your most hated enemy's suffering will never end."

"I've heard he is dying. Maybe Fate will end it for him."

The Chameleon's lip curled. He knew
Merrick
had been diagnosed with a brain tumor. But Adolf wouldn't die. He wouldn't dare.

His curiosity piqued, he asked, "Is there a reason you're watching him?"

"I watch everyone. Even you, my friend." Holic rarely smiled, but he did now. "That is, when I can find you. Your name is appropriate. You can vanish with the wind in a blink of an eye."

"Invisible men live long fruitful lives," the Chameleon acknowledged. "I will see you tonight at Cupata."

"Tonight," Holic agreed. Raising his glass from the table, he swallowed the brandy then left the compound balcony and headed down the trail to the hidden lagoon where he'd docked his boat. His stride was long and as confident as a panther's, his flowing black hair as shiny as a raven's wing.

The Chameleon watched Holic leave. It was done, then. Evka would soon have a new home, and he would soon be able to sleep better knowing that his enemies were about to be thinned down to a comfortable number that would be more manageable.

Again he acknowledged that patience was the key to success. In this case, patience had allowed him to exploit Holic's weakness. Smiling, his thoughts returned to the night three years ago when he had invited the assassin to one of Simon's birthday parties for one very specific reason—to introduce him to Evka. The man known to be a connoisseur of beautiful women had not been able to take his eyes off her the entire night. That's when he had known it was within his power to buy Holic Reznik, and his talent. And today he had done just that.

The Chameleon poured himself another glass of brandy, then relaxed in a chair on the balcony to enjoy the morning sunrise. He would never leave the Greek Isles, he vowed, slowly sipping the expensive brandy as his gray hair caught the morning breeze.

Yes, he thought, he was truly invisible here. Invisible and invincible for as long as he wished. And he wished it forever.

Not even God dared alter his plans. Not even God, or Fate.

Eva stood on the deck of the
Ventura
wearing a white strapless dress, matching sandals and red lipstick. It was
8:00 a.m.
, and she had taken great pains with her appearance to please Simon. By the look on his face she had succeeded, and she pasted a smile on her own as he came toward her.

"Happy birthday," she said.

He tipped his wide-brimmed white hat and offered her a childish grin. Then without warning, he pulled her into his arms, and again, for the second time in four years, he kissed her. Only this time he moved his lips with a concentrated effort to make the kiss more enjoyable—it appeared as if he'd been practicing since yesterday.

As he stepped back, his smile disappeared. "Nemo said there was an intruder on board last night. That he was in your room."

"Yes, but I wasn't hurt."

"I can see that you weren't. What did this man say to you? Did he tell you what he wanted?"

"He didn't say anything. I surprised him when I went below to go to bed. I think he was a thief."

"What makes you think that? Was something taken?"

"No."

"But you still think he was there to steal something?"

Eva shrugged, not wanting to be reminded of what Sly had come to steal.
I have no other reason to be here but one. You.

"I don't know what he was there for."

"Nemo should have called me after it happened."

"He wanted to, but I told him not to disturb you. I knew you would be busy getting things ready for the party."

"That was considerate of you, but your safety means more to me than a party."

"I'm sorry."

"Next time, Nemo calls, understood?"

"All right."

"Now then—" his smile was back "—the party begins in eight hours. I thought I'd take you to breakfast, then give you a tour of our hotel before the guests start arriving and the games begin."

The word
games
sent a chill up Eva's spine. What would the evening hold? she wondered, dread seeping into her bones, as well as an anxious need to see her father.

Simon took her arm and led her off the
Ventura
.
"I have rented the Hotel Cupata for my party. In the thirties and forties it was a private pleasure palace. Like so many of the buildings here on Santorini, the Cupata was partially destroyed by a volcanic eruption. Restored, it is now listed as one of the island's most beautiful tourist attractions. Some say in all of
Greece
. Many of the rooms have been returned to their original grandeur, but others have been left uniquely primitive as a memorial to what Cupata survived when hot lava nearly smothered the entire city of
Fira
. Cupata's grand ballroom is spectacular. It has cavelike petrified walls and is open to expose all four balconies on each level. Come. Breakfast awaits us at a lovely little bistro overlooking the harbor. We'll walk. It isn't far."

They left the blue bay, brimming with yachts in all shapes and sizes. The
Hector
was one of them. Eva kept her eyes averted. She would not think about Sly McEwen. For if she did, she would be forced to remember the way he had touched her, how intimately he had come to know her body, and how she had responded.

They followed the cobbled streets, and twice more, Simon kissed her.

After breakfast Simon gave Eva a grand tour of Cupata. The hotel was truly a work of art, part mansion, part mausoleum.

Simon had ended the tour by escorting her to her room after walking her through his connecting plush suite with mosaic floors and lace curtains. The room he'd chosen for her was cavelike with dome lighting and polished rust-and-purple lava floors.

Her bed was built into a stone wall, or maybe
carved
was a better word. It looked as if a master craftsman had molded the hot lava into a grotto. It looked primitive, until you lay down on the plush mattress. There was recessed lighting overhead, a pedestal-like table within reach and animal furs scattered on the floors.

Eva found the bathroom by following a lit tunnel. When she emerged from it, she was relieved to see that the bathroom was spacious and more importantly, conventional.

It was while she was still acquainting herself with her room that she heard a rap at the door, followed by Melita's voice. "I have your costume for this evening."

Eva answered the door, and Melita walked into the room wearing a short white skirt and a blue halter top. She carried a garment bag over her arm, and a small box in her hand.

"I have no idea what's inside either of these, and Simon told me I couldn't peek. He says he wants me to be as surprised as the rest of the guests when they see you descend the stairs."

For all of Simon's recent affectionate behavior over the past two days, Eva didn't hold out much hope that it would influence his plans for the evening, or what form of humiliation was inside the garment bag.

"I've got to go. I've been trying to find Nemo all day, but I haven't seen him since I had to leave the yacht early this morning. You haven't seen him, have you?"

"No, but then I left early, too."

"Maybe they found the thief from last night and he's been called down to the police station. Oh, well, I'll find him. The caterers have been delivering food all day. You should see the desserts. They're almost too pretty to eat. This is much better than last year. It actually looks like it might turn out to be a real party."

"Think so?" Eva tried not to sound too skeptical, but by the look of pity that touched Melita's eyes, she knew she had failed.

"I absolutely flipped out when all those snakes came out of that cake last year," Melita confessed. "And I'm sorry for not speaking to you the entire night, but I couldn't force myself to come near that snake. I swear Simon chose the ugliest one for you to…"

"Wear around my neck," Eva supplied.

"God, let's not talk about it. It still makes my skin crawl." She gave Eva a little hug. "Let's hope Simon's games this year are a little less hair-raising. I'll see you downstairs after five." Melita started for the door then stopped. "Don't forget to look inside the box. Simon said it was important that you wear it."

The Chameleon stood on the fourth-story balcony sipping brandy as he observed the crowded ballroom below. He was dressed all in black except for the red leather mask that covered his face depicting a long-beaked bird.

The grand ballroom was decorated with linen-covered tables and glowing candles. All the guests wore costumes, everything from depictions of animals, to fairy-tale characters, and beyond.

He checked his watch, anxious for
five o'clock
. He'd come early to the balcony in anticipation of seeing her before she saw him. It was a game he played with himself, seeing Evka first. She was a pleasure to watch, and he enjoyed trying to define the changes in her from year to year. She'd transformed slowly but steadily, and with each year, had become more beautiful than he had ever imagined possible. And to think, that beauty had almost been lost in the fire along with her mother.

Fate, he decided. He had never given way to letting Fate rule the day, but on that night so long ago, he was willing to concede that Fate had spared Evka.