Youre not out of the woods yet, he warned. Youre in my custody. Im keeping your passport, and youll not be permitted to leave Cadair until I figure out who you are and what youre about.
Julia quickly nodded her agreement.
Her story would check out. Harrison would discover she was a bona fide reporter, and hed have no reason to suspect she was after anything other than a human-interest story.
Meanwhile, if they gave her back her purse, shed still have the DNA sample and a chance of getting it to the lab. Plus, the Cadair staff might know something about Millions to Spares history. Hanging around and talking to them for a few hours could be a blessing in disguise.
Besides-she glanced around at the mottled white walls while resisting the urge to rip the gray dress from her body-whatever conditions they kept her in at Cadair Racing, it had to be a damn sight better than this.
As it turned out, the palace at Cadair Racing was about as far from a prison cell as a person could get. Harrison was definitely one of the superrich. He easily surpassed the Prestons and pretty much anybody else Julia had ever met in the horse world.
A huge, multistoried, marble-pillared rotunda served as his entryway. It was decorated with gilt mirrors, antique statues and hand-carved mahogany settees. A painted mural dominated the domed ceiling, while chandeliers, suspended on gold chains, fairly dripped with glowing crystal.
Past a center table that boasted a massive fresh flower arrangement, the tiled mosaic floor opened into a wide hallway. The hallway itself was an oil painting gallery, inviting guests to browse their way through the center of the palace. Doorways to the left and the right revealed a library, several sitting rooms, an office and an arboretum.
Growing up with her widowed father in a Seattle suburb, Julia hadnt crossed paths with the wealthy. She knew they lived on the lakefront and went to private schools in Bellevue. Other than that, shed always assumed they were just like her, but with pools and chauffeurs.
Not true.
When shed started hanging out with the Thoroughbred racing crowd, shed learned the rich were closed-minded and paranoid. One racehorse owner refused to eat anything that wasnt from France. Another put an armed guard on his poodle. Yet another was rumored to carry a briefcase full of hundred-dollar bills, in case he wanted to make an untraceable purchase.
It seemed to Julia that the richer people were, the stranger they became. Given this house and its furnishings, along with the extensive grounds and security, Harrison was saddled with a lot of eccentricities.
The end of the wide passage opened into a great hall. The room boasted sweeping staircases, along with banks of windows and glass doors that led to a veranda overlooking a lighted, emerald lawn. Scattered palm trees waved their way to a white sand beach that met the rolling azure waters of the Persian Gulf.
I really need to make a phone call, Julia told him, feeling more than a little self-conscious in her stained skirt and wrinkled white blouse as the crisply dressed, ubiquitous staff members moved silently through the rooms.
Im afraid I cant let you do that, Harrison responded as they made their way toward the veranda.
Julia kept her voice even, determined not to let her nervousness show. I dont understand. Why not?
He stopped and turned to look down at her. Because I dont know who you are, or what youre after or who youll call.
She glanced pointedly to where her small purse was tucked under his arm. Youve seen my passport, my drivers license, my Lexington library card.
He didnt respond.
People will start to worry, she pointed out. Hopefully Melanie was worried already. Theyll be out looking for me.
Harrison paused. Give me a list of names. Ill have Darla make the calls.
It was Julias turn to hesitate. She didnt want him connecting her with the Prestons. He might have heard about the Leopolds Legacy scandal, and he might already know Millions to Spare was the spitting image. Melanie and Robbies names could give her away.
Harrison arched a brow. Problem?
She stalled. Whats she going to say to them?
That youre safe.
You dont think theyll ask questions?
A sly smile grew on his face. She can tell them you met a man.
Annoyance shot through Julia. You think my friends are going to believe I came home with you?
Why not? Youre a modern, twenty-five-year-old American-
Watch it, buster. Sure, there was a social conduct divide between the East and the West, but that didnt mean she was sleazy.
He slowly perused her sleeveless blouse, short skirt and high-heeled shoes. I saw your personal effects, remember?
You think because I wear a thong Ill jump into bed with a man I just met? Of all the insulting, stereotypical assumptions. She wore a thong today to stay cool, because the weather in Dubai was nearly a hundred degrees.
He moved a little closer, lowering his voice. I think your underwear was designed to share.
She moved in closer, as well, glaring defiantly into his slate-gray eyes. Not with an insufferable bastard like you.
His mild tone belied the mocking glint in his eyes. But, Julia. Since your friends have never met me, they wont know Im an insufferable bastard, will they?
Even though logic told her to back off, there was something about his smug smile that begged her to retaliate. Ill know.
Guess Ill just have to live with your low opinion, he said, clearly unperturbed by the insult. Give Darla the list. I promise shell convince your friends youre having the time of your life.
She kept her mouth firmly shut.
His expression unexpectedly softened. We can end all this right now, Julia. Just tell me why youre here.
Im doing a human-interest story for Equine Earth Magazine.
On me.
Yes.
Yet, you didnt recognize me at the jail. Didnt look at a picture before you broke in?
Julia scrambled for an explanation. You look different in real life.
Harrison laughed at that one. Youre really the best they could find?
They? Who?
His cell phone buzzed, and he shook his head as he pulled it out. Never mind.
One moment, he said into the phone, then he snapped his fingers. A young woman instantly responded to the summons, reminding Julia that Harrison was king here, and his word was law.
Leila will show you to your room, he said. Shell provide you with clothing, food and anything else you need. His nod was curt as he turned away to deal with the phone call.
The young woman smiled shyly at Julia, and suddenly the prospect of clean clothes and something to eat overruled everything, even the need to bring überrich Harrison down a peg or two.
Thank you, she said to Leila, genuinely grateful for the young womans help.
Leila gestured to one of the staircases. This way, please.
You speak English?
Yes, maam.
Is there a phone I could use?
Leila looked uncomfortable. Im afraid not, maam.
Julia sighed. She shouldnt have been surprised the staff had been given instructions about her. Harrison definitely struck her as a detail-oriented kind of guy.
At the top of the staircase, her feet sank into the thick carpet of the hallway as they made their way along an open railing that looked down into the atrium.
Julia didnt know whether to admire or sneer at the tall trees and the broad-leaved tropical plants below and the brilliant starscape through the domed glass ceiling above. It was all gorgeous, but definitely excessive.
When Leila opened a set of double doors, the opulence of the suite echoed that excess all over again.
A four-poster bed dominated the room, while a plush furniture grouping was tucked into an alcove. The carpet was as luxurious as the one in the hall, potted plants were dotted all around, and a door led to an absolutely decadent marble en suite with an oversize tub, gold faucets and double sinks.
Although the silly gold faucets were probably worth more than her car, Julia had to admit it was a whole lot better than her last prison cell. And, really, with a palace this big, there had to be an unguarded telephone somewhere.
Chapter Three
So is she a spy? asked Alex Lindley, stopping in the doorway of Harrisons study, a snifter of cognac dangling from his fingers.
Harrison kept his gazed fixed on the Web page on his computer monitor. It would appear a Julia Nash does, indeed, work for Equine Earth Magazine. Of course, it might not be our Julia Nash. And, even if it is, it could be a cover.
Alex moved into the room. A fake identity as a reporter would give her an excuse to travel around the world.
Harrison nodded. Hed also found several dozen horse-themed articles written by Julia Nash, a scientific paper by a professor of the same name, a Julia Nash on the board of directors of Qantas Communications Company, and a couple of genealogy charts naming long-deceased Julia Nashes.
His quick search hadnt come up with anything that either convicted or exonerated her. It might mean she was an innocent reporter or it might mean she was simply a competent covert operative-since none of them would have their real profession splashed all over the Internet, either.
Alex glanced over Harrisons shoulder. You want me to make a couple of calls to my military contacts?
As an American ex-naval officer, Alex could still call in favors in most countries in the world.
All that will do is send up one mother of a red flag in the secretary-generals office, said Harrison.
Yeah, Alex agreed. Might as well cancel the reception outright as do that.
Harrison pushed back in his chair. And we wont be canceling the reception.
Alex nodded his agreement. As Harrisons right-hand man, he knew full well the real reason behind the reception. It would facilitate under-the-radar consultations on an international oil pipeline.
You hear anything more on the negotiations? asked Alex.
Uzbekistans on board, of course. But Kazakhstan cant move without a Russian security guarantee. That means Turkmenistan has the French over a barrel on financing.
No French, no financing.
No port access and no pipeline. Harrison finished what they both knew.
If it all goes to hell, what kind of a loss are you looking at? asked Alex.