Part 20 (1/2)
The check had already been paid. ”I crashed the dinner party. It seemed the thing to do, under the circ.u.mstances,” Ragnor explained.
The others all thanked him and told him it wasn't necessary. Jordan looked at him curiously. ”When did you manage to pay the check?” she asked him.
”When I 'followed' you to the ladies room,” he told her.
”So you weren't really following me. You just happened to be there?”
”Not exactly. I was following you, too.”
He pulled out her chair. Outside the restaurant, they went through a round of cheek kissing again. Anna Maria and her group were ready to take a vaporetto.
”Which way are you going?” Jared asked Ragnor.
”Actually, I've just taken a room at the Danieli,” he said.
Jordan started.
”Great! We can walk back together,” Cindy said. She slipped her arm through her husband's, leading them on ahead.
Jordan stared at Ragnor. ”You're really at the Danieli?”
”Yes.”
”Where have you been staying?”
”With friends.”
”So why move into the Danieli?”
He shrugged. ”I haven't stayed there in a while.”
She started forward. He fell in step at her side, not touching her.
”Thank you for dinner.”
”A pleasure.”
She stopped walking. ”Just what do you do for a living?”
He looked down at the street as he walked, a small smile on his lips. ”You know, in many places in Europe, that might be considered a rude question.” ”I'm an American. According to many Europeans, we tend to be rude.”
”But you're not usually, are you?” he queried, looking at her.
She sighed with exasperation. ”Why can't you just answer a straight question?”
He shrugged. ”I dabble in antiques,” he told her.
”Dabbling in antiques must be a prosperous vocation.” She brushed his sleeve, indicating his dress. ”Armani, Versace ... rooms at the Danieli, constant travel, so it seems.
And apparently, you speak a number of languages-well. That tends to imply quite an education.”
”The world itself can be quite an education.”
”Oh, I'm sure. But I think you've had a lot more.”
”You are getting intensely personal, you know.”
”I am intensely curious.”
”Aren't you going to ask if I'm a drug smuggler?”
”No.”
”All right. I have lots of that dreadful stuff known as family money.”
”Where was this family from, originally?”
It seemed he still hesitated, then he shrugged. ”Norway.”
”Norway!”
He glanced at her, his head at a slight incline. ”Yes. I shouldn't have thought that would be a tremendous surprise. I'm definitely Teutonic looking. Then there's my name- Ragnor. And my surname.”
”I told you before-I don't know your surname.”
He turned to look at her. ”Wulfsson.”
”Wulf-son?” she repeated. ”like ... son of the wolf?”
”It's a fairly common name where I come from,” he said dryly.
Wolf. Wolf's son.
A tall man in wolf's clothing, leaping from a balcony to a boat.
A wolf in the midst of the shadows.
A large dog. Right.
Jordan felt light-headed, uneasy.
They pa.s.sed by a shop window. She glanced at it and started.
There was the mannequin again. The one she had pa.s.sed earlier. An echo of Steven's face remained.
”What's wrong?” Ragnor asked. She hadn't realized that she had paused and was staring at the mannequin. Steven's face had pa.s.sed through her mind's eye once again.
She shook her head.
It was a dummy; a mannequin. Well dressed, made of rubber or plastic, or whatever they used to make dummies.