Letter from a Stranger (22 page)

The game birds were really guns being touted by an international arms dealer. Miraculously, they were now off the market, and had apparently been destroyed. One of his security teams had been handling the matter for a client of his. The client was worried the guns were about to wind up in the wrong hands in his own backyard. Michael never asked too many questions on a phone, but whatever it was his team had done, the armaments were destroyed. Gone for good. He would learn about the details later when he saw Henry in London.

The Russian oligarch who so worried Charlie was none of his business, or Charlie’s either. But Charlie had indicated last Friday that the man was dangerous and that he should be aware of that. Now the Russian had disappeared. Perhaps someone got to him before he could cause damage on a global scale. MI6 or the CIA? Or the FBI? Michael closed his eyes for a moment, focusing. It would be the FBI operating in New York. The CIA could only work on foreign soil, just like MI6. If it made the newspapers they would know soon enough.

He let out a long sigh, focused on Henry again. He was relieved those guns hadn’t been used to create a revolution.… In a moment or two he would call his client to let him know his country was safe. For the moment.

He heard footsteps on the pebbled path, and glanced over his shoulder. His grandmother was hurrying toward him and he jumped up, looking worried. “Slow down,” he said, walking to meet her. “I’m not going anywhere, at least not yet.”

“I know. But I couldn’t complete my arrangements for tonight until I’d spoken to you.”

“I’m all yours,” he said, taking her arm, leading her back to the garden seat. Once they were sitting down, he said, “So tell me your problem.”

“It’s not really a problem. I just need your advice. Do you think I should hire a band?”

Michael was momentarily taken aback. “How many people have you invited? Enough for a dance?”

Anita laughed, and exclaimed, “Don’t be so silly. I’ve got the four of us and Iffet, which makes five, and I’ve invited fifteen people, well, Gabri and I between us have. So we’re twenty.”

“I do think a band is overdoing it,” Michael said, laughter in his eyes. How like his grandmother it was, wanting to make a splash. “How about a trio?”

“I shall just call Abdullah, that’s the man who plays the guitar so well, you’ve heard him before. He’ll come and bring two or three of his musicians. That will be nice, don’t you think?”

“I do.”

“You like her, don’t you?”

“Who?”

“Don’t say
who
like that, so innocently. Justine, of course.”

“I do like her, yes, a lot, if you must know. Remember, Gabri has spoken to me about her for years, so I feel as if she’s an old friend.” Michael smiled at her.

“Do you think we’re a bit brainwashed? Oh well, that doesn’t matter, she
is
nice, and she’s very beautiful, Michael, don’t you think?”

“Yes, if you like long lanky pale girls with silvery blond hair.”

“You’re making her sound awful, like … like a ghost.”

“I’m teasing you. Look how she just took off, came searching for Gabri.… That took courage.”

“Yes.” Anita was silent for a moment, before saying, “I’m very glad she found Iffet, I don’t know what she would have done without her.” Anita felt a little rush of guilt again about the missing address.

Michael turned his head, glanced down the path, and said, “Here’s Justine now, coming to join us.”

He rose quickly, and went to meet her, happy she had finally appeared. Grasping hold of her hands, he smiled, pulled her closer, and gave her a peck on the cheek, restraining himself. “It’s nice to see you this morning, and looking so fresh and rested.”

“And you too, Michael.” Although she was five foot nine in her stocking feet, Michael was six foot three and she had to look up at him. This pleased her; she liked men who were taller than she was. “We were up late last night.”

“None the worse for it, though. Anita’s planning a nice party for you, she’s just been telling me about it.”

“It’s so sweet of her to do this.”

“It’ll be a fun evening.”

The two of them walked back to the garden seat, and Justine said, “Good morning, Anita, and thank you for a lovely dinner last night.”

“My pleasure, Justine, and good morning. And where’s Gabriele?”

“In her studio looking at some caftans and tunics, and that’s why she sent me to find you. We need your opinion, Anita, and yours, too, Michael.”

Within minutes they were standing in the studio with Gabriele, who had hung four caftans on the clothes rack. She explained, “Justine can’t make up her mind which one she wants to wear tonight. So I suggested she bring you both to pass judgment and choose.” Gabriele smiled at Michael, and then glanced at Anita. “You have a good eye, why don’t you pick one out for her?”

Anita looked pleased, and said, “Oh, I can tell you now. I think the pale blue would be perfect, it will match your eyes, Justine.”

“I like the red,” Michael said, although he didn’t care what she wore. All he wanted at this moment was to grab hold of her hand and rush her away from the grandmothers and up to his room. Bad thought, Michael, he chastised himself. He then added, “Although blue is Gabri’s color, and you do look so much like her, Justine.”

“A much younger version of me,” Gabriele said swiftly. “Very much younger.”

“Why don’t I just hold each one next to me,” Justine suggested, and went to get the blue caftan. Slipping it off the hanger, she stood in the middle of the studio and held the caftan against her body. They all murmured their approval. She then took the red one and did the same thing, followed with the green, and finally the white. Each caftan and tunic was patterned with tulips, and they were obviously the most expensive fabrics from Gabriele’s line.

“The pale blue,” Michael said at last. “Either the caftan or the tunic.”

Anita nodded in agreement, and so did Gabriele.

Justine smiled at them all. “Thank you.… I always rely on family decisions,” she said, and felt herself suddenly blushing.

Twenty-two

Michael was waiting for her at the jetty as they had arranged earlier. He was standing on the deck, and Kuri was already at the wheel of the motorboat.

Michael waved and smiled when he saw her, and shouted, “Come on down, I’ll help you onto the boat. There’s been a hell of a lot of traffic this afternoon, and the sea’s very choppy.”

“Good thing I’m wearing flat shoes,” Justine said, and started down the steps, endeavoring to keep herself calm. As usual, the minute she set eyes on him she began to shake inside. He had a disturbing effect on her, unlike anything she had known before.

When she was halfway down, she paused for a split second. It was windy. His dark hair was ruffled, his loose, navy blue shirt blowing around him, and he looked devil-may-care and impossibly handsome. She knew that whatever happened she would always have that image of him in her head. She went on down the steps, her heart clattering against her rib cage.

“Give me your bag,” Michael said when she was standing in front of him. She did, noticing how much the boat was rocking.

“Now give me your hands.”

She did as he told her, then took a step forward over the side, holding on to him, and came onto the board with a bit of a wobble, falling against him. He staggered slightly, but steadied, held her tightly against him, and kept on holding her until she laughed, relaxed in his arms, and stood firmly on the deck. Only then did he release her.

“I told you it was rough,” he said. “It’s the wake every other boat creates. Now come on, let’s go sit over there.” As he led her to a long banquette he called out to Kuri, speaking in Turkish.

Within moments they were speeding away from the jetty, heading toward the European side of Istanbul. Before they could start talking, Michael’s cell phone began to ring, and he pulled it out of his shirt pocket, pressed it to his ear.

“Dalton here,” he said, then listened for a moment.

“Well, yes, that’s all right, Aly. But I’m already on my way. So why don’t we meet as planned and spend only half an hour on the papers. I’ll study them again tonight. We can have breakfast tomorrow since that’s what you prefer.”

Michael listened again for a few minutes, said good-bye, and clicked off. Putting the phone in his shirt pocket, he looked at her, and said, “The meeting won’t take all that long after all, as you heard.”

“Business is business, and I don’t mind waiting for you, however long you are. I told you that yesterday,” she responded. “Are you working all the time, Michael? Even at weekends?”

“More or less, but I’m usually on the phone behind a desk, not out in the field. Today’s meeting is about security management on a large estate, several estates in fact, and I need to explain some of the installations we’re about to do. Incidentally, just so you know, our grandmothers have an invisible electronic fence around their two
yalis,
they’re very well protected.”

“Yes, Gran mentioned that to me last night, and then again this morning when she gave me a little tour of her villa. She added that you had them put in, as if I hadn’t guessed.”

He glanced at her. “They’re quite a double act, those two, and I’m glad they’ve got each other. They keep each other’s spirits up.” Still staring at her, he took hold of her hand, and moved closer to her on the banquette. “And I can’t tell you how happy I am to get you alone at last. Away from our darling grans and their eagle eyes.”

Justine began to laugh. “They are rather doting, aren’t they?”

“That’s a strange word to use,” Michael said. “Mind you, they are doting. But they’re also watching us all the time, trying to guess how we feel about each other. To put it bluntly, I don’t think they would be at all upset if we disappeared to my room or yours … for a bit of privacy.”

Noticing the odd look on her face, Michael frowned. He said, “They’re very modern and extremely romantic, you know. Especially when it comes to us. They’re itching for us to get … well … get together, so to speak.”

Justine was silent for a moment, and then she smiled at him. “I’m not surprised Anita is romantic; Gran probably is, too. But for the last twenty-four hours I’ve been so emotional with Gran I suppose I’ve missed certain things, undercurrents, whatever.”

“But not the way you affect me, I hope.” His dark eyes were riveted on hers.

“How could I?”

“Have I made it
that
obvious?”

“No. But you affect me the same way.”

“How? How do I make you feel, Justine?”

“Nervous, flustered,” she admitted, feeling relieved to tell him this. She held on to his hand even tighter. “Anxious, shaky. Pick a word.”

Michael put an arm around her and drew her closer, then he leaned forward and kissed her on the mouth, very gently, quickly pulled back, and looked at her. “There, I’ve done it! Finally kissed you, although it was rather a chaste kiss, wasn’t it? Not quite what I had in mind when I first saw you.”

“It was a lovely first kiss,” she replied, relaxing against his body.

He wrapped both arms around her and held her tightly until they arrived at the Çiragan Palace, where Kuri stopped the boat at the hotel jetty.

*   *   *

They walked up through the gardens, heading toward the hotel, holding hands but not talking. Justine was relieved they had spoken so openly to each other on the boat. It had helped to ease the tension in her. Also, the way he had held her tightly in his arms on the bumpy ride across the choppy sea had been thoughtful and caring, and she had felt comfortable with it. At least I’m not in this on my own, she thought, and smiled to herself. And then she suddenly laughed out loud at the ridiculousness of this thought.

Michael glanced at her, asked, “Why are you laughing? Care to share the joke with me?”

She hesitated, suddenly feeling foolish, and remained silent for a second, then quickly said, “I was just thinking that at least I’m not in this on my own.”

“In what?” he asked, standing still, gazing at her. He wanted to laugh, too, knowing exactly what she meant, but managed to keep his face straight.

“You know what I mean, Michael.”

He nodded. “You mean
I’m
in it, too, sharing the same disturbing situation.”

“That’s right … it’s not one-sided.”

“You bet it isn’t.”

They went on walking, crossed the terrace and entered the hotel, making for the lobby. When they arrived at the concierge’s desk, Justine asked if they had received a FedEx envelope for her, and it was promptly given to her by the smiling concierge.

Michael said, as they moved away, “I’ve got about fifteen minutes before my meeting, so why don’t I get you settled at a table on the terrace? I’ll pop off to meet my client, and then join you after half an hour. That’s all the time he can spend with me today. We can relax a bit, and have a drink before heading back to the
yalis.
”

“That’s fine,” she answered, and walked out onto the terrace with him. It was obvious that he was well known here, and the maître d’ made a big fuss over him, led them to a table in a corner of the terrace which looked out across the Bosphorus. After Michael had ordered tea and they were alone again, he said, “How long are you staying in Istanbul?”

“I don’t know … why?”

“Will you wait for me?”

“What do you mean?”

“I have to be in Paris next week. Then I must make a short trip to London to see the head of my company there. After that I’ll head back. I was hoping you’d still be here, Justine.”

“Of course I’ll wait for you to come back,” she said, and then felt the color rushing into her face. Why did she always start blushing when she was with him? Clearing her throat, she said rapidly in a rush of words, “I was planning to stay with Gran until Richard arrived, we both want to spend some time with her.”

“That’s good, she needs you both. These years have not been easy for her, and just seeing her yesterday, the way she … blossomed last night, was great for me. I’ve worried about her a lot.”

“But she hasn’t actually been ill, has she?”