Midnight Jewels

for allowing me to get into danger in the first place. I can't stand to hear you talk about how you owe me and how you always pay your debts. Agreed?"
    He looked at her for a long moment. "You don't want to bind me to you with a debt of honor," he said slowly.
    "Is it necessary to hold you that way?" she asked gently.
    "No. The truth is, there's nothing you could do to get rid of me."
    Mercy smiled brilliantly. "Good." Then she looked at him intently. "Will you want to go back to the kind of work you were doing three years ago?"
    "No. That was over long before I met you. It was time for it to be over. That's why I opened the self-defense schools. I knew I needed something else to do with my life. I had spent long enough exploring the side of me that responds to violence. I wanted more time for studying the part that finds pleasure in logic and philosophy and another kind of strength."
    "You seem to know yourself so well."
    He smiled. "Most of what I'm learning' about myself lately I'm learning from you."
    "It works both ways, I mink. I've learned a few things from you, too." She glanced up. "Here comes the wine I ordered. Just what we need."
    Croft watched the waiter pour the two glasses. When the man had left he picked up one glass and turned it slowly in the light, studying the clear red liquid. His eyes were thoughtful—too thoughtful.
    Mercy's intuition told her what was going through his head. "You don't have to worry about it, you know," she said.
    His gaze rose to meet hers. "Worry about what?"
    "About ever getting really drunk again. You're not your father, Croft. You didn't drink too much the night of Gladstone's party; you were drugged. I doubt if you will ever get genuinely drunk in your entire life, but if you do, one thing's for sure."
    "What's that?"
    Mercy smiled as she picked up her own glass. "We know now you're not a mean drunk like your father was. Lecherous and horny, yes, but not mean. Even when you were high as a kite you were in full control of your dangerous side."
    "There are times, Mercy, when you can be a great comfort." His eyes were not at all remote as he looked at her over the rim of his glass. They were filled with warmth and love and a hint of laughter.
    "To us," Mercy said, raising her glass to touch his.
    "To us."
    "Oh, by the way," Mercy began smugly, "I have something to tell you about some microfilm I found in the spine of
Valley
. My cleverness is going to astound you."
    Croft groaned. "I was afraid of that."

    It was dawn when Mercy first stirred the next morning. Without opening her eyes she edged her foot around under the covers, feeling for Croft's solid presence. The bed was empty beside her. Perhaps Croft had gone downstairs to take the dogs out for a morning run. But when an inquiring, damp nose nuzzled her palm, she knew the dogs were still in the room.
    Mercy finally lifted her lashes and sat up slowly, careful not to make any undue noise. Croft was where she had thought he would be at that time of day. He was sitting cross-legged and motionless near the window, gazing out at the mountains in the distance. He was wearing his jeans, but nothing else.
    Mercy was grateful Croft had the basic intelligence not to risk sitting naked on a motel room carpet. There was no telling what kind of dirt might be imbedded in the rug. The man had a certain amount of common sense under that rigid code of behavior, after all.
    She watched him for a moment, loving the strong, lean shape of him in the early light. Not at all ghostlike, she thought in amusement.
    Quietly she got out of bed and reached for her travel robe. Hie Doberman that had been checking on her went back to settle down beside its companion in the corner. Mercy went into the bathroom without disturbing Croft. When she came back out a few minutes later she knew he was almost finished with his meditation. He hadn't moved, but she sensed the changed level of awareness in him. She was slowly growing accustomed to the subtle link that bound them.
    "Good morning," she said quietly and went to stand in front of him.
    His expression altered as he looked up at her. Hie detached quality disappeared, replaced by a direct warmth that sank into her very bones.
    "Good morning," he said.
    Mercy smiled and sat down across from him, tucking her legs under her in imitation of his own position. "I think it's time we talked."
    He smiled slightly. "What about?"
    "There are a couple of questions concerning our relationship that remain to be