92




VON HOLDEN had left Scholl’s suite at the Grand Hotel Berlin at 7:50. At 10:20 his private jet banked for the final approach to Kloten Airport in Zurich.

At 10:52 his limousine pulled into Anlegeplatz and by 11:00 Von Holden was knocking gently on Joanna’s bedroom door. Joanna had to be coaxed and stroked and Whatever else was necessary to put her back into her earlier frame of mind, where she was both cooperative and eager to care for Elton Lybarger. Which was why Von Holden carried the jet-black Saint Bernard puppy he’d ordered to have ready upon his arrival.

“Joanna,” he said, after his first knock went unanswered. “It’s Pascal. I know you’re upset. I have to talk with you.”

“I have nothing to say to you or anyone else!” she snapped through the closed door.

“Please—”

“No! Dammit! Now, go away!”

Reaching down, Von Holden put his hand on the knob and turned it.

“She’s locked the ,door,” security guard Frieda Vossler said toughly.

Von Holden turned to look at her. Severe and authoritarian, she was square-jawed and heavily built. She needed to relax and smile and make herself more feminine, if that were possible, before any man would look at her with more than contempt.

“You may leave,” Von Holden said.

“I was ordered to—”

“You may leave.” Von Holden glared at her.

“Yes, Herr Von Holden.” Frieda Vossler clicked her walkie-talkie onto her belt, glanced sharply at him, then walked off. Von Holden stared after her. If she were a man and in the Spetsnaz, he would have killed her for that single glance alone. Then the puppy whimpered and squirmed in his arms and he turned back to the door.

“Joanna,” he said, gently. “I have a gift for you. Actually it’s for Henry.”

“What about Henry?” Suddenly the door flung open, and Joanna stood there, barefoot, in jeans and sweatshirt. The thought someone might have harmed her dog, still back in the kennel in Taos, terrified her. Then she saw the puppy.

Five minutes later, Von Holden had kissed the tears from Joanna’s eyes and had her on the floor playing with the five-week-old Saint Bernard. The video she had seen of the explicit sexual escapade involving her, he’d explained, was a cruel study vigorously protested by himself but insisted upon by Lybarger’s board of directors after they’d seriously questioned the man’s ability to resume control of his fifty-billion-dollar multinational corporation. Afraid of a second stroke or heart attack, their insurance underwriters wanted unequivocal proof of his strength and physical stamina under the most vigorous of everyday conditions. Usual tests were not sufficient, and the underwriters had asked their chief physician, in con-cert with Salettl, to design one.

And Salettl, knowing Lybarger had no wife or love interest at present and realizing how deeply he cared for and trusted Joanna, knew that she was the only one he would be comfortable with. Fearing either or both would reject the proposal if asked, Salettl ordered them both secretly sedated. The experiment was done, recorded and the re-. suits passed on to the board of directors. The lone videotape had since been destroyed. No one else had been there, the cameras had been operated by remote control.

“Joanna, to them, it was business and nothing else. I tried to fight against it to the point of being asked to leave the company if I protested further. That I could not do, for Mr. Lybarger’s sake. Or yours. Because I knew that at least I would be there and not some stranger. I’m sorry . . . ,” he said gently as tears welled up in her eyes. “One more day, please, Joanna. For Mr. Lybarger. Just the trip to Berlin, and then you will be on your way home.”

Von Holden got down on the floor beside her and rubbed the puppy’s belly as it rolled over on its back. “If you want to go now, I will understand and put a car for the airport at your disposal. We can hire a temporary therapist and make do with Mr. Lybarger tomorrow as best we can.”

Joanna stared at Von Holden, wavering as to what to do; angry and outraged at what had been so ruthlessly done to her, she was confused as well because she realized Elton Lybarger had been as much the victim as she and that she still deeply cared for his well-being.

Von Holden put out his hand, and the black fur ball struggled up on its feet and licked his fingers. In reaction, Von Holden rubbed its head and tousled its ears, smiling the same warm, loving smile that had melted her heart the first day she’d seen him. In that moment Joanna decided that everything he’d told her was true and that under the circumstances his request was not all that unreasonable.

“I’ll go with you to Berlin,” she said with a sad, shy smile.

Leaning forward, Von Holden brushed his lips against her forehead and thanked her for her understanding.

“Joanna, I must return to Berlin today for last-minute preparations. I apologize, but I have no other choice. You will come tomorrow, with Mr. Lybarger and the others?”

Joanna hesitated, and for a moment he thought she was going to change her mind, then she relented. “I’ll see you there, won’t I?”

“Of course.” Von Holden grinned.

Joanna felt herself smile. And for the first time since she’d seen the video, she relaxed. Roughing the puppy’s ears playfully one more time, Von Holden stood, then took Joanna’s hand and helped her up. As he did, he slid an envelope from his pocket and laid it on the desk beside her.

“A corporate way of helping ease your embarrassment and soothe your wounds. Not very personal I’m afraid, but decidedly useful. See you in Berlin,” he whispered and left.

Joanna stared at the envelope while the puppy whimpered at her feet. Finally, she picked it up and opened it. When she saw what was inside, she gasped. A cashier’s check was made out in her name for five hundred thousand dollars.

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