Dante's Twins

Backing away from him, she circled around until she was facing the shore. “Can you tell which room it is?”

“No. Whoever it was has gone back inside the house. But if I find out who—”

She was pretty sure she knew who. This was precisely the sort of action to which Carl Newbury would stoop. He’d justify it as—how had he phrased it?—“running interference... saving Dante from himself” and from a woman “willing to hand it to him on a plate.”

“You won’t,” she said, starting back toward the beach. “The kind of person who resorts to voyeurism isn’t likely to come forward and admit it.”

Dante kept pace with her, slicing through the water in a side crawl which, for all its smooth execution, couldn’t disguise the anger coursing through him. His expression, the sparking blue-green of his eyes, the compressed line of his mouth, painted a formidable portrait. In his present mood he was not a man to be crossed. “Well, I’m damned if I’ll tolerate being spied on by my own people, though why anyone cares how I choose to spend my free time, or with whom, is beyond me.”

It’s not beyond me, she could have told him. Men like Vice President Newbury didn’t take kindly to a woman who parachuted over the heads of favored employees to grab a plum overseas assignment, especially if that same woman wasn’t disposed to show a proper appreciation of her good fortune.

Should she tell Dante how unconscionably his vice president had behaved during those few days she’d spent in the office before she flew to the Far East for her buying trip? Would spelling out exactly what Newbury’s idea of extending a welcome to the newcomer had entailed, help or hinder the present situation?

Had she and Dante not already become lovers, Leila would not have hesitated. But what she’d found with him—the unexpected, altogether miraculous meeting of heart, body and soul—was too new, too untried, to risk exposing it to the mud Newbury would sling around in a confrontation.

She’d heard firsthand his opinion of her, yesterday afternoon. But of what use was it to know that his hostility stemmed from her sharp reprimand just a few days after she’d been hired when he’d caught up with her in the library after everyone else had gone home for the day? It was unlikely he’d temper revenge with discretion if Dante called him to account on the matter. Hadn’t he threatened as much?

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