“The hell you were.” MacDuff’s voice was silky. “What are you trying to do, Venable?”

“Gavin called you?”

“Yes, he didn’t want to involve me, but he thought Jane MacGuire might need help since you’re screwing up. You son of a bitch, you’re trying to drag Jock back into that same hellhole he pulled himself out of.”

“I needed him.” He paused. “I’d do it again, MacDuff. There was a leak among my team. I needed someone good who had no connection with the Company. It’s not as if Gavin was an innocent. He was lucky I didn’t lock him up and throw away the key. After all, he was probably one of the most accomplished assassins either one of us have ever seen.”

“We made a deal. I helped you get your hands on that bastard, Thomas Reilly, who had brainwashed Jock and all those other kids he’d kidnapped, and you gave me custody of him.”

“I needed him to do a job for me. Don’t expect me to feel guilty for using Gavin.” He repeated, “He was an assassin.”

“He was a young kid who was medicated and brainwashed. Do you know how many times he tried to kill himself after he started to come off that medication?” His voice turned savage. “I should turn him loose on you, Venable.”

“Go ahead. But that wouldn’t keep him from going right back to Jane MacGuire afterward. I’d just be a minor bump in the road. And you might need me. This is a very ugly business.”

“And you used Jane to draw Jock into doing your damn job.”

“She was in the middle of it anyway. She just didn’t know it. But, yes, I gambled that he’d do anything to keep her safe.”

“Since Jane was the one who brought Jock back to the land of the living. Sure, why not send him out to kill a few scumbags to show how grateful he is?”

“What do you want me to say? I did it. I’d do it again. Dammit, I may have lost a man tonight while he was protecting Jane MacGuire.” He paused. “And the situation in Paris may be awkward. It’s too late for me to do a cleanup. We need damage control.”

“If Jock is roped into your damage control, I’ll come after you myself.”

And he’d do it, Venable thought sourly. MacDuff was a throwback to the Lairds who first ruled MacDuff’s Run. He was possessive of every person on his property and protected them with passion and ferocity. Jock Gavin had not only grown up in the village at MacDuff’s Run, but MacDuff treated him as a younger brother. “Actually, I was going to rope you into doing that for all of us. They love you in Paris. You’re a big hero to them. As I recall, one of the medals you won was a Croix de Guerre. Do you know the prime minister?”

“I’ve met him several times.”

“Then it shouldn’t be difficult to convince him that it would serve no purpose to victimize a young woman who has suffered enough already. The media doesn’t need to know anything about Jane MacGuire.” He paused. “Or Jock Gavin. They’re both obviously innocent of the crime that took the life of an outstanding French citizen, Celine Denarve. And that scum that Gavin put down was clearly no loss. Can you convince the prime minister that for you to remove both Gavin and Jane from the public eye would permit the police to focus on what’s important in the case?”

MacDuff was silent. “It’s possible I can get him to go along.”

“More than possible. I’ll do my part behind the scenes to help it along.”

“Very well. Hang up, and I’ll call him. I’ll have to work fast. He won’t like being roused at this hour of the night.”

But Venable had seen MacDuff when he was moving toward a goal with a confidence and charisma that was truly awe-inspiring. He was as good at negotiating his way through social and diplomatic circles as he had been searching out the enemies in the jungle as a commando. Hell, maybe there was something to all that Laird bullshit. “I knew you’d be willing to cooperate when you realized that we all have to do what we can to make sure that-”

“Listen, Venable. I’m not willing to cooperate with you on any level. I’m pissed off, and I can’t see that changing in the foreseeable future. I’ll call the prime minister because I don’t want to have to run the gauntlet when I get to Paris. I should be there within two hours. I have a plane standing by.” His voice lowered to velvet softness. “And after I finish the call, I’m going to phone you back, and you’re going to tell me everything you know or guess or even vaguely speculate. Is that understood?”

“Of course.”

“I mean it, Venable,” MacDuff said. “I don’t like the idea of your manipulating one of my people. It’s not going to happen again.” He hung up.

“I MADE YOU COFFEE.” Jock crossed to where Jane was sitting on the brocade Louis XV couch and handed her the tiny flowered cup and saucer. “But this is all I could find to put it in. It’s hardly worth bothering.”

“Celine loved dainty cups. She said she felt like a princess when she-” Jane drew a deep, shaky breath. “I argued with her. I was used to cups that were more like pitchers. Eve never liked to run to the kitchen for a refill while she was working on her reconstructions, and she always started out with a big cup. When I’m painting, I do the same thing. But Celine said that coffee should be an experience and should be savored and-I’m babbling, aren’t I?” She took a sip of the coffee. “Thanks, Jock. Thanks for everything.” The hot coffee tasted good and some of the chill that she was feeling ebbed away. It would be back, she knew. Every time she thought of Celine, it attacked like an enemy in hiding.

But for this moment Jock had managed to lessen that terrible hollowness. He was smiling gently at her, and it warmed her. Gentleness, strength, and yet that sense of underlying loneliness.

Strength. Yes, she always thought of him as the boy she had first met, but he was older now, in his early twenties. Just as stunningly handsome, with those silver-gray eyes and wonderful features, just as quietly contained, but the years had taken away that almost breakable quality and replaced it with a sort of subtle power.

“I’m sorry your friend was killed.” He sat down in the chair across from her. “She was a beautiful woman.”

“How could you tell?” She shivered. “That expression was-”

“Entirely natural considering the circumstances,” he said gently. “But I could still tell she had a flair for living.”

“Yes.” She moistened her lips. “I’m sorry that you-I didn’t want you to kill again, Jock. Particularly not for me.”

He smiled. “You’re suffering more than I am. You and MacDuff are always worrying about my immortal soul. Since I’m virtually sure that it’s lost already, I don’t let it trouble me.”

“It wasn’t your fault. You were sick. You didn’t know what you were doing.”

“Shh.” He lifted his cup. “Drink your coffee. It’s not important right now.”

“It’s important. You’re important.” She rubbed her temple. “What happened, Jock? Why was she killed? Celine didn’t have an enemy in the world. Was he crazy?”

“In a way, I suppose.”

“And why were you here?” Though heaven knows she had been grateful to have him. Not only because he had probably saved her life but for staying with her during those two excruciating hours of police questioning. The inspector had at first been brusque, then had turned amazingly kind and respectful. He had not even made them go down to the police station to give their statements.

But perhaps leaving the gallery would have been better. She would not have been so aware of what the police forensic team had been doing to Celine. She quickly veered away from that memory.

Now that the first shock was over, she had to fight her way through the horror and try to make some kind of sense out of that act, which had no resemblance to reason. “Why are you here? I haven’t seen you for a long time, Jock. You didn’t just drop in out of the blue and-”

“No.” He shook his head. “My timing’s not that good. I thought there might be a problem.”