Clayton didn't even blink as he replied. "Because I can't let him blackmail Nikki-or myself-for that matter. If I lose the election, I'll do it honestly. I don't need to use underhanded methods."

"Who else is he blackmailing?"

"My ex-brother-in-law."

"Torrance is gay, I take it?" Kane asked quietly.

"It's a little more complicated than that," he replied. "It's his secret, although he did tell me when they got divorced. I thought Nikki knew, but I don't suppose that she does now."

"I won't tell her. But I'm going to know."

Clayton hesitated, but only for a minute. He shrugged and quietly told the other man what he wanted to know.

Kane was silent for a long time. "You read about these things. You never quite believe them." He glanced at Clayton. "Haralson knows, I gather?"

"No. He suspects what you did," Clayton replied, smiling. "What he doesn't realize is that if Mosby were gay, he wouldn't be hiding it in the first place. He's not the sort. In fact, he has any number of gay friends."

"Which is probably where the rumors started."

"No doubt."

Kane stared at the photograph again. He grimaced. "Nikki isn't going to like this, but I only know of one way to stop a blackmailer short of killing him." He picked up the photo with a regretful smile. "I think you know what has to be done."

"That's why I came." He got to his feet. "You'd better marry her soon. She lost her breakfast this morning."

"And this is only the first week." Kane grinned like a Cheshire cat. "My poor Nikki."

Clayton glared at him. "You ought to be ashamed of yourself!"

"For making a baby?" he asked, eyebrows levering up. "I lost mine," he said, his voice deepening. "My son. I thought my life was over, that I'd never have the nerve to try again. But Nikki opened up the world for me. Ashamed? My G.o.d. I'm going to strut for the rest of the day, and then I'm going to drag Nikki up in front of the first minister I can find." He reached in a drawer and produced a doc.u.ment. "That is a marriage license. You can come to the wedding, but after that, we will not expect you to be a regular visitor. Especially until after the election, which my candidate is going to win."

Clayton found himself grinning. "You b.a.s.t.a.r.d."

Kane grinned back. "It does take one to know one," he pointed out.

"You're going to print that?" he nodded toward the photograph.

"Can you think of another way?"

"Not off the top of my head."

"Then the sooner, the better. Don't tell Nikki. I'll break it to her tonight."

Clayton glanced at him. "You'd better make her happy."

"That's a foregone conclusion. She loves me, you see," he added quietly. "She might not know it-or admit it-just yet, but she does."

"Does she know how you feel?"

Kane stuck his hands in his pockets. "I've been keeping that to myself." He looked up. "We always expect women to read minds. I guess sometimes they need telling."

"I guess." He went out the door. He looked back at Kane. "Like h.e.l.l your candidate is going to win," he tossed over his shoulder. Deep laughter followed him into the yard.

Bett was lounging on her sofa with the phone to her ear. She started cursing and her face grew redder and redder. She sat up.

"But he can't do that! He can't fire you!"

Haralson laughed. "He isn't going to. I had his sister followed recently when she had a clandestine meeting with Kane Lombard. I got some photos that he isn't going to want to see printed."

Bett relaxed. "Thank G.o.d for that. What are we going to do?"

"I thought you were going to marry him."

"Are you out of your mind?" she shot back. "He's useful, but not that useful. I have no intention of living in Charleston, South Carolina."

"Sn.o.b."

She twisted the cord around her finger. "Mosby won't like it if you use that photo. He's still protective of Nikki."

"He won't know until it's too late. He won't bother me, either. I know something about him."

Bett smiled. "What?"

"That's for me to know and for you to find out."

"Be secretive. I'll make Clayton tell me."

"You'd better hurry, then, because he had a long tete-a-tete with his ex-secretary the other night and he's having lunch with her today."

"What?!"

"I didn't think you knew. If I were you, sweetie pie," he said sarcastically, "I'd spend a little time protecting my hunting preserve."

"Call Sam Hewett," she said shortly. "Tell him that his exec is out hobn.o.bbing with the enemy camp!"

"I had that in mind," Haralson said.

"What will you do if Clayton comes up with something to use against you?" she asked after a minute.

"Mosby will save me. He'll have to."

"Then it will be all right, I guess."

Haralson laughed. "Of course it will."

Senator Mosby Torrance was fielding questions from reporters after a news conference. He'd supported the president on a vote to a.s.sist U.N. troops in the Serbia-Bosnian hostilities. His eyes lit on one particular female reporter for CNN, a beauty if there ever was one.

After the conference he paused to talk to her, his blue eyes appreciative on her exquisite skin. She had to be in her thirties, but she was a heavenly combination of beauty, brains and personality. She made his head spin....

A telephone call was waiting for him when he got back to the Senate Office Building. He motioned his secretary to put it through.

"Great timing!" Haralson laughed curtly when he heard Mosby's voice. "I caught you coming in the door, I guess?"

"I guess." Mosby was bitter and sounded it.

"Did I interrupt something? I hope not. Listen, I'm turning some photos of your ex-wife over to the press."

Mosby went silent. "What sort of photos?"

"Pictures of her with Kane Lombard in a, shall we say, compromising position." He laughed. "I don't expect you to say a word," he added coldly. "I know what you are. Unless you want the media all over you, closet queen, you'd better do as I say."

Mosby's eyes widened. "What did you call me?"

"Stop playing dumb! You've always known that I knew. You're gay."

Mosby's eyes twinkled. He felt liberated. He'd kept this barracuda on the payroll for years because he'd had the threat of exposure hanging over his head. And all along Haralson had thought he was gay?

He started laughing. He started and couldn't stop.

"I'll tell the whole d.a.m.ned world!" Haralson was threatening.

The laughter got worse. Vaguely, Mosby was aware of cursing and the slam of the telephone receiver. This was too good to be true.

But when he got hold of himself, he remembered what Haralson had said about some compromising photos of Nikki. He really couldn't allow her to be hurt by his own blackmailer. He owed her a warning.

He had his secretary dial Nikki. But the number he had wasn't the right one. It had been changed. He'd have to call Clay. He hoped there was enough time to save Nikki from whatever diabolical fate Haralson had planned for her.

The phone rang several times before it was answered. Finally a feminine voice replied, "h.e.l.lo?"

Mosby recognized the voice. It was Bett. He almost spoke, but then he remembered that she and Haralson were thick as thieves. Had she been selling him down the river all along? He couldn't let her in on what he knew.

Slowly, he put down the receiver. He thought for a minute, then he buzzed his secretary. "Get me on the next flight to Charleston," he said.

"But, Senator, you've got a committee meeting..."

"Call and explain that I have an emergency in my district. Tell them," he added, "that it's a family emergency."

"Yes, sir."

He hung up and reached for his attache case. If he hurried, he might be in time to avert a disaster for Nikki-and, inadvertently, one for Clayton.

Chapter Seventeen.

A tall, slender man wandered into the executive offices of Lombard, International. He was wearing jeans and boots with a long-sleeved red shirt and a denim jacket. His hair was in a ponytail and he wore dark gla.s.ses. He flashed his credentials and was immediately allowed into the big boss's office.

Kane Lombard was big and fierce-looking-not a man Cortez would have enjoyed tangling with.

"What can I do for you?" he asked Cortez after motioning him into a chair and offering him coffee.

"I want to talk to a man who works for you-a man named Jurkins."

Kane scowled. "Will Jurkins?"

"That's him." He hesitated. "There's something I'd better tell you up front. I do work for the government, but I have no jurisdiction here and no authority to question anyone in this particular circ.u.mstance." He leaned forward. "But if you'll give Jurkins to me for about three minutes, I think I can help you extricate yourself from this d.a.m.ned mess that I helped Haralson mire you in."

"You...?"

"Sit down," Cortez said wearily, motioning an infuriated Kane back into his executive chair. "I'm a tenth degree black belt. Just take my word for it and don't ask for proof. I didn't know what I was doing. Haralson wanted a favor. I hate polluters. I've prosecuted any number of them over the years. But I'm on my first vacation in a decade and Haralson cost me any rest I might have gotten. Why don't you send for Jurkins and I'll let you in on a few closely guarded secrets about that toxic waste dump?"

Kane only hesitated for a minute. "All right." He hit the intercom b.u.t.ton. "Get Jurkins back in here. Don't tell him I've got company."

"I wouldn't dream of it," came the dry reply.

The last person in the world that Nikki expected to find on her doorstep was her ex-husband. Mosby Torrance looked tired, but he smiled as she stood aside to let him into the house.

"Sorry to show up like this, Nikki, but you and Clay changed your telephone number," he explained, when they were seated in the living room.

"We had to," she said. "Too many people had it." She studied his face with quiet affection. He was older, but still devastatingly handsome. Mosby, with his blond hair and blue eyes and perfectly chiseled patrician face. If it hadn't been for Kane, and the feelings he'd ignited in her, she might still be mourning Mosby.

"Haralson called me earlier," he told her. He leaned forward with his arms crossed over his knees. His eyes narrowed. "Nikki, he's got some photographs of you and Kane Lombard."

"Yes, I know," she said tightly. "But I've dealt with Haralson. He won't print them."

"Yes, he will," he said finally, watching her react. "Oh, not now, probably-but closer to the election, yes, he will. He's gone over the edge, Nikki. He wants to hit everybody. If he publishes those photographs, he can hurt a lot of people."

She looked at him with anguish in her face. "I didn't know I was being followed. I was so careful..."

"You have no idea what sort of people he conspires with," he told her quietly. "Nikki, they have cameras so tiny they can be fed under doors, through windows. They have cameras and sound equipment that can pick up actions and conversations from great distances. Haralson has connections at the FBI and even the CIA."

"He's angry at Clay because I wanted Clay to fire him. He's angry at me, too. He'll cut us both down..."

"I'm not going to let him cut down anybody," he replied. "He thinks he's got me on a meathook. In fact, I know someone who can settle his hash for good."

"Why didn't you do something before?" she asked.

"Because he had something on me. Or thought he did." He searched her eyes sadly. "You never knew why I couldn't consummate our marriage."

"I found out," she said, averting her eyes. "You let me find out."

"I let you find me in bed with a man," he replied. "But I'm not gay."