Ellie leaned her head against the cold marble wall of the bathroom. Tears gathered and slipped down her cheeks. Clay had warned her. She had no one to blame but herself. It didn’t stop the hurting, the sheer, bone-aching grief.
She slid down the wall and rested her head on her knees, wrapped her arms around them. Tears rolled down her cheeks.
She’d gotten what she wanted, hadn’t she?
A sob escaped. At least she’d gotten what she deserved.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Sitting alone in her hotel room, Maggie Delaine stared at the silent telephone. For the fourth time in the last half hour, she reached for it. This time she lifted the receiver, gripping it a little too hard.
She made the call methodically, as if it were nothing more than business. After going through the director’s private secretary and the live-in nurse, her boss, Evelyn Rothwell, came on the line.
“Maggie, it’s good to hear from you.” They exchanged the usual pleasantries, Evelyn assuring Maggie that she was recovering better than expected, Maggie filling her in on team business.
“I’m sorry to bother you at home, Evelyn,” she said, working to keep her tone nonchalant, “but the press has been all over me. They want to do an article about Jake Sullivan. They want to approach it from a whole new angle. Since Jake’s so tough to interview, they’ve asked me to help. I thought you might give me some background, something I don’t already know.”
Evelyn chuckled. “You know how Jake is. He hates for anyone to interfere in his private life.”
“I know, Evelyn, but surely there’s something you can give me. How about his early years, where he was born, something about his family, that sort of thing?”
“That’s the last thing Jake would want to see in print.”
“Why is that?”
“Surely you know he’s from Hungary.”
“I know his father was Hungarian. I assumed Jake was born in the States.”
“I’m sorry, Maggie, I thought you knew. All the members of the selection committee were informed of Jake’s background before his appointment. Since you came onboard later, I guess it was an oversight. Jake was born in the Soviet Union. His real name is Janus Straka. He defected to this country during the 1960 Olympics in Rome. Maybe you remember reading about it.”
“No,” Maggie whispered, fighting for control. “I would have been pretty young. I guess I was more interested in boys than current affairs.”
“He was only nineteen at the time. Jake—I mean Janus—was a top competitor. He had a strong chance of winning the gold medal that year. After he came to this country, he wanted to stay out of the limelight so he changed his name and started a new life.” Evelyn chuckled. “Jake wouldn’t be happy to find that story in print.”
Maggie could barely speak.Why hadn’t he told her? “No, of course not. Thank you, Evelyn. I’ll think of something.”
“Keep me posted, will you? It’s a definite pain the neck being laid up like this. I’m itching to get back to work.”
“Just get well. I’ll stay in touch.” Maggie hung up the phone, her mind racing. Jake’s problems were even more serious than she’d imagined, and she’d imagined the worst. What did the Soviets want with Jake?
He’d been gone from their country for...? Twenty- eight years, she calculated. She tried to tell herself it was just a coincidence, but she knew in her heart it wasn’t.
She checked her watch. It was one o’clock in the afternoon. Jake would probably have gone on to Hickstead as Maggie planned to do as soon as she checked out of the hotel. She’d promised not to talk to him, but the stakes were just too high. She’d be careful, but she had to know the truth.
Jake owed it to both of them.
I shouldn’t have left her like that,Clay thought for the ten thousandth time.I should have kicked the fucking door down if I had to. He knew why he hadn’t. Because when he’d seen her standing in the doorway, looking so utterly betrayed, she’d aroused feelings so foreign to him—so completely overwhelming—he just couldn’t deal with them.
He’d wanted to go to her, explain that Adrianna had kissedhim,not the other way around. He’d wanted to tell her he didn’t even want to go with the contessa and his father. But his dad expected it, and Clay hadn’t wanted to disappoint him.
What about Ellie? How much did you disappoint her? It didn’t matter, he argued with himself. It would have happened sooner or later. She didn’t fit into his lifestyle. He couldn’t afford to get any more involved with her than he was already.
“Why don’t you take a little toot and join the party?” His father’s voice broke into Clay’s thoughts. “We’ll be landing in Monaco in just a few minutes.”
Clay shook his head and leaned back against the leather sofa that ran along one wall of the Whitfield Corporation’s plush Gulfstream III.
“No thanks, I’m in training.” The jet was custom designed, with a thirty-foot cabin and a bedroom in the rear, all in shades of burgundy and gray.
