“Yes.” She nestled closer. “I think nice is a definite understatement.” Her eyes were drooping drowsily and she smothered a yawn against his shoulder.
She was conscious of his hand running lazily down her arm to her wrist. “Take a nap, love. We have all night.”
She nodded. She would sleep presently, but right now she wanted to lie here and enjoy this wonderful closeness. Then his fingers were threading once more through hers in the intimate embrace that now seemed peculiarly their own. She smiled contentedly as her heavy lids closed. The last memory of which she was conscious was the sight of their hands joined in companionship and…
It was early afternoon when she heard the whir of the helicopter. At first the sound was so faint it might have been the hum of a bee and she didn't bother to open her eyes. She was drowsy and content sitting here against the trunk of the beech tree, with the sun on her face and Zack's head in her lap, and it was impossible to believe anything could disturb the bucolic enchantment of the moment.
Then the chugging whir became louder and her eyes flew open. “Zack!” There was an edge of panic in her voice. “Zack, I hear something.”
“Um-m,” he murmured, not opening his eyes. “So do I.”
“It's a helicopter.” She pushed his head from her lap and jumped to her feet in a flurry of petticoats. “I'm sure it's a helicopter.” She ran to the edge of the hill, her gaze searching the sky. “Zack, for God's sake, just don't lie there. They've found us!”
“I'm lying here because you nearly knocked me out when my head fell off your lap,” he said dryly as he sat up.
“Oh, dear, I'm sorry.” She glanced over her shoulder with a stricken expression. “But they're here, Zack.”
A cinnamon-colored helicopter had appeared on the horizon. It was moving purposefully in their direction.
Zack rose to his feet and strolled over to stand beside her. “So I see. But the question is, Who are they?” He suddenly grinned down at her. “Don't worry. It's not Stefan's storm troopers. I've been expecting this particular helicopter. I radioed Perry Bentley last night after you went to sleep and told him to fly in from Switzerland today.”
“Perry Bentley?”
“My assistant. You probably saw him that night outside the theater in Tucson.” He turned and started down the hill. “Put your boots on and let's go down and meet him as he lands.”
She stared after him. “How did you know I was outside the theater that night?” But he was halfway down the hill and could no longer hear her. She hurriedly thrust her bare feet into the boots and tucked the tail of her blouse into her skirt. Then she was hurrying after him.
She caught up as he reached the open field. Zack's own helicopter was stashed on the perimeter, beneath the cover of overhanging trees. She watched as the aircraft landed in the exact center of the field. “How did you know I was outside-”
His hand closed on her arm as he stepped forward eagerly. “Come on. I want you to see your present.” He was pulling her toward the helicopter, his expression endearingly boyish.
“My present?” she echoed bewilderedly.
The door of the helicopter was opening and the plump man who had run interference for Zack at the theater the first night she'd seen him jumped to the ground. He was dressed in casual jeans and a yellow T-shirt, and was carrying a small cardboard box.
“Perry Bentley. Kira Rubinoff.” Zack introduced them absently as he took the box and handed it to Kira. “Your present.”
“How do you do,” Kira murmured as she opened the box. A camera. A state-of-the-art Nikon-with every conceivable lens and attachment. Her eyes lifted to Zack's. “You had him fly from Switzerland to bring me a camera?”
“You wanted it,” he said simply. “You said it was important to you and Marna.” His brow suddenly furrowed in a frown. “Don't you like it?”
She felt tears sting her eyes. What an extravagant and touching gesture! She felt a surge of feeling so intense it took her breath away. “I love it,” she finally whispered huskily. Her index finger caressed the camera. “It's the most wonderful present I've ever received. Thank you, Zack.”
“It's far more advanced than the first one he bought you,” Bentley said cheerfully. “They've made some amazing strides in technology in the last five years. There are some instructions in the box that will show you how to use the new-” He broke off with a frown as he caught her stunned expression. “Is something wrong?”
“That's what I'm wondering,” she said slowly. “But, yes, I'm beginning to think there may be something very wrong.” She turned to Zack. “You bought me the camera Marna gave me for my eighteenth birthday?”
Zack stiffened warily. “I was going to tell you about that. Somehow I just didn't get around to it.” His voice lowered. “I found myself otherwise distracted.”
Her heart jerked, and for a moment the shock and bewilderment ebbed as she remembered the “distraction.” Then she pulled her attention back to the subject at hand. She had an uneasy feeling this was even more important than it appeared on the surface.
She swiftly lifted her head to meet Bentley's eyes. “Zack was aware that I was outside the theater in Tucson, even though I was careful to keep in the background. Now how do you suppose he knew, Mr. Bentley?”
Bentley cast an uncomfortable glance at Zack. Then, when his employer slowly nodded permission, he said, “The security man who was tailing you called me on the car phone.”
“Tailing me? What security man?”
“The one who has been assigned to protect you for the last seven years,” Bentley said. He was definitely uneasy now and his words came out choppily “Jansen is one of Mr. Damon's best security men.”
Kira felt as if she were lost in a maze of mirrors where nothing appeared as it really was. “Seven years?”
“Actually, it was more like ten,” Zack said quietly. “I became very dissatisfied with Stefan's slipshod security and decided to protect you myself.” He motioned with a jerk of his thumb. “The encampment is through that grove of poplars, Perry. Please go wait for us there.”
“Right,” Bentley said in evident relief before he scurried toward the stand of trees.
“I think you owe me an explanation,” Kira said carefully.
He nodded. “Yes, I think I do too. I first heard about you the summer I was nineteen. Marna had come to the camp to nurse her mother and I was always off in the hills with Paulo so I didn't see much of her at first. Then I began to catch her staring at me.” He smiled crookedly. “Rather like a housewife considering the merits of a piece of meat for a stew. One day she took me aside and told me about the mondava. She also told me about a child called Kira, who was the other half of me. She said that one day, after the child had become a woman, she would send her to me.” He paused. “I didn't believe a word of it. I was accustomed to a certain amount of mysticism, but mysticism is difficult to accept when applied to one's own self. The whole thing sounded like a soap opera or one of those old bodice-ripper novels. A royal princess couldn't be the other half of a half-breed like Zack Damon. Not in real life. So I went back to Arizona and began to dismiss it from my mind.” He slowly shook his head. “I didn't take Marna's determination into account. The first letter came a month later.”
“Letter?”
“She wrote me every month or so. I was moving around a great deal then and I don't know how she managed to keep track of me, but somehow she did.” His eyes met hers. “They were always about you. What you'd said and what you'd done. Occasionally she'd send me a snapshot or a hair ribbon or a page of your homework on which you'd gotten a particularly good grade. I gradually got to know you. I looked forward to those letters as if you were my child. Then, as you grew older, that feeling began to change. You were still mine, but not enough mine. I began to think about the mondava and to believe in it.” His voice dropped to a whisper. “I was growing very impatient by the time Marna sent you to me in Tucson. I don't think I could have waited much longer before I came to you. Perhaps Marna knew that.”