Genuine Lies

gleaming, she ran a finger around the rim of her champagne flute. “You’re a gambler, aren’t you, Michael?”
    “All men are.”
    “And some are more successful than others. Please don’t let me keep you from mingling, or enjoying the buffet, the music, old friends. I hope we have a chance to speak again before the evening ends.”
    “I’m sure we will.” He turned and saw Nina standing a few feet away. Their eyes met, held. Hers dropped first before she turned and rushed inside the house.
    “Eve,” Julia began, but she only shook her head.
    “Christ, I need a cigarette.” Then she turned her smile up a hundred candlepower. “Johnny darling, how delightful of you to come.” She was moving off to be embraced and kissed.
    Julia gave up on that source and turned to Paul. “What was that all about?”
    He reached down to take her hands. “You’re shaking.”
    “I feel as though I just witnessed a bloodless coup. I—” She bit her tongue as Paul took two fresh glasses from a passing waiter.
    “Three slow sips,” he ordered.
    Because she needed to calm down, she obeyed. “Paul, did that man have a gun at your heart?”
    Though he smiled at her, the amusement in his eyes was offset by something more dangerous, more deadly. “Were you saving me with a glass of champagne, Jules?”
    “It worked,” she said sharply, then sipped again. “I want you to tell me why you spoke to that man that way, who he is, and why he brought an armed body guard to a party.”
    “Have I had a chance to tell you how beautiful you look tonight?”
    “Answers.”
    Instead, he set his glass down on a wrought iron table and cupped her face in his hands. Before she could evade—or even decide if she wished to—he was kissing her with a great deal more passion than was wise in public. And beneath it she tasted a bitter, smoldering anger.
    “Stay away from Delrickio,” he said quietly, then kissed her again. “And if you want to enjoy the rest of the evening, stay away from me.”
    He left her there to turn inside the house in search of something stronger than champagne.
    “Well, it’s been quite a show so far.”
    Jolted, Julia let out a long sigh as Victor patted her shoulder. “I just wish someone had given me a script.”
    “Eve often prefers ad-lib.” He glanced around, shaking the ice in his glass of club soda. “Christ knows she likes to stir the pot. She’s managed to bring out nearly all the players tonight.”
    “I don’t suppose you’ll tell me who Michael Delrickio is.”
    “A businessman.” Victor smiled down at her. “Would you like to walk in the garden?”
    She would simply have to find out on her own. “Yes, I would.”
    They left the terrace and crossed the lawn through the shadows and twinkling lights. The orchestra was playing “Moonglow” as they moved into the perfumed air. Julia remembered that weeks before she had seen Victor and Eve stroll through this same garden, under the same moon.
    “I hope your wife is recovering.” She saw from his expression that she’d made the move too quickly. “I’m sorry, Eve mentioned that she was ill.”
    “You’re being diplomatic, Julia. I’m sure she told youmore than that.” He gulped club soda and fought against the siren call of whiskey. “Muriel is out of immediate danger. The recovery, I’m afraid, will be a long and difficult one.” “It can’t be easy for you.”
    “It could be easier, but Eve won’t let it.” With weary eyes he looked down at Julia. The way the moonlight slanted over her face struck some chord in him he couldn’t identify. Tonight the garden was meant for young men and women. And he was feeling old. “I know Eve has told you about us.”
    “Yes, but she didn’t have to. I saw you here one night a few weeks ago.” When he stiffened, she laid a hand on his arm. “I wasn’t spying. Just in the wrong place at the wrong time.”
    “Or the right place at the right time,” he said grimly.
    Julia nodded, and took the time while he lighted a cigarette to choose her words. “I know it was private, but I can’t be sorry. What I saw were two people deeply in love. It didn’t shock me or send me rushing to my typewriter to report it. It touched me.”
    His fingers relaxed fractionally, but his eyes remained cold. “Eve has always been the best part of my life, and the worst. Can you understand why I need to keep what we’ve had private?”
    “Yes, I can.” She let her hand fall away. “As I can