Page 43 of Close Up

“I was a matador waving a red cape at a bull,” Nick said, speaking very softly now.

“Wrong analogy,” Vivian said. “One can and should feel sorry for the bull. It’s just a beast that is following its instinct. I would hope you don’t feel any sympathy for Fulton Gage.”

“No. But like the matador I knew what I was doing. What does that make me?”

“A man who did what he had to do to save a woman’s life. Sounds to me like you used words—the only weapons you had—to defeat a man who was armed with a pistol and a knife.”

Nick did not respond. His hand rested on Rex’s back.

“But a man died because of your words,” Vivian continued.

“I still dream about it. And my dreams are... vivid.”

“Nightmares.”

“Yes.”

“I can’t get inside your nightmares to examine them, but do you think it’s possible the reason they haunt you isn’t because an evil, violent, obsessed man died but that you almost failed to save Patricia?”

Nick’s jaw tightened. He watched her through slightly narrowed eyes. “I miscalculated. And because I miscalculated she nearly died.”

“And what makes it even worse is that if she had died it would have been because she had been trying to save you.”

Nick’s smile was grim. “I told you it was complicated.”

Vivian felt as if she were walking across a very narrow bridge above deep and treacherous currents.

She cleared her throat. “I can’t help but notice that after Gage was dead, you and Patricia did not get married for real.”

“No,” Nick said. “We didn’t get married for real.”

It was obvious from the ice in his voice that the subject was closed. But Vivian suddenly understood.

“Whatever happened up on that roof scared the hell out of Patricia, didn’t it?” she said before she could stop herself. “Afterward she was frightened of you.”

Nick’s mouth curved in a faint, cold smile. “Terrified.”

“She married you because she sensed that you could protect her, but when you actually did save her life the violence unnerved her.”

“Something like that, yes. She was—is—very fragile. Delicate.”

“Got it. I’m not fragile or delicate. In the past month two people have tried to murder me. One is dead, which suits me just fine. And Ican tell you right now that if you succeed in stopping the other guy, I’m not going to be the least bit frightened of you.”

Nick’s eyes warmed a little. “No?”

“No. In fact, I will buy you a drink.”

“Deal.”

She studied him for a long moment. “If it’s any consolation, I don’t think a marriage between the two of you would have been a happy union. At least, not for long.”

That comment evidently caught him off guard. “What makes you say that?”

He did not seem offended or defensive. Simply interested.

“I have a feeling that, sooner or later, you both would have felt trapped in your roles. You would have become frustrated trying to keep your armor endlessly polished. Sooner or later the pressure to be the perfect princess, to always appear delicate and in need of being saved, would have made Patricia resentful. The parts you each chose to play would have made it difficult for the two of you to reveal your inner secrets to each other.”

“You may be right. I hadn’t considered things in that light. You are a rather frightening woman, Vivian.”

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