"If Kavinski can be persuaded to give us his foreign investments, Richard will be in line to manage them. You'll be expected to travel with him. I think he's quite right to break in a nanny before she becomes a necessity." She turned away and moved toward the ballroom.

Sally was acting as if it were already settled, Nell thought frantically. She could not give her daughter up to one of those serene-faced women she had seen walking with their charges in the park. Jill belonged to her. How could Richard even consider taking her away?

He wouldn't consider it. Jill was everything to her. She did everything he asked of her, but he couldn't expect her to- "Don't let the old witch bother you. She just wants to see you squirm." Nadine Fallon was coming down the steps. "Bullies always pounce on the gentle ones. It's the nature of the beast."

"Shh." Nell glanced over her shoulder, but Sally was already gone.

Nadine grinned. "Want me to spit in her eye for you?"

"Yes." She wrinkled her nose. "But somehow she'd find out and then Richard would be upset."

Nadine's grin faded. "Then let him be upset. He should know you're no match for her. He should be the one spitting in that barracuda's eye."

"You don't understand."

"No, I don't." She passed Nell and continued downstairs in a cloud of Opium perfume and Karl Lagerfeld chiffon-red-haired, beautiful, exotic, totally confident. "I learned a long time ago back in Brooklyn that she who doesn't fight back gets squashed."

Nadine would never get squashed, Nell thought wistfully. She had fought her way from Seventh Avenue to be one of the top runway models of Paris and never lost that earthy humor and boldness. She was invited everywhere, and Nell had run into her more and more frequently of late. Richard called her "designer window dressing," but Nell was always glad to see her.

Nadine glanced back over her shoulder. "You look great. Lost a few pounds?"

"Maybe." She knew she didn't look great. She was as plump as when Nadine had seen her last month, her slacks were rumpled, and she hadn't had time to comb her hair since that morning. Nadine was just trying to soothe her after that malicious savaging by Sally Brenden. Why not? Size six could afford to be kind to size twelve. She felt a rush of shame at the thought. Kindness should always be valued and never looked at askance. "I have to see Richard right away. I'll see you later at the party."

Nadine smiled and waved.

Nell took the stairs two at a time and ran down the long hall. Richard wasn't in the sitting room. She could hear him humming in the bedroom. She paused outside to steel herself and then threw open the door. "I don't want a nanny for Jill."

Richard turned away from the mirror. "What?"

"Sally said you were considering a nanny. I don't want one. We don't need one."

"Why are you upset?" He turned back to the mirror and straightened his tie. "It was just an idle discussion. It's not good to smother children with attention. All our friends have help. A nanny is something of a status symbol."

"You are considering it."

"Not without your consent." He put on his tuxedo jacket. "What are you wearing tonight?"

"I don't know." What difference did it make? She always looked the same anyway. "The blue lace gown, I guess." Her hands clenched at her sides. "I don't smother Jill."

"The blue is a good choice. That scalloped neckline makes your shoulders look wonderful."

She crossed the room and laid her head on his chest. "I want to take care of her myself. You're gone so often and we're company for each other." She whispered, "Please, Richard."

He stroked her hair. "I want only what's best for you. You know how hard I work to make sure you and Jill have a good life. Just help me a little, Nell."

He was going to do it, she realized in despair. "I try to help you."

"And you do." He pushed her away and looked down into her face. "But I'm going to need more from you." A flicker of excitement lit his face. "Kavinski's the key, Nell. I've been waiting for six years for an opening like this. It's not only the money, it's the power. There's no telling how far I can go now."

"I'll work harder. I'll do everything you tell me to do. Just let me keep Jill."

"We'll talk about it tomorrow." He kissed her on the forehead and turned away. "Now I'd better get downstairs. Kavinski will be here any minute."

She stared numbly at the door after it closed behind him. They would talk tomorrow and he would be gentle and firm and a little sad that he couldn't do what she wanted. He would make her feel guilty and helpless and, when they returned to Paris, he would buy her favorite yellow roses and take care of the interviewing of the nanny himself in order not to distress her.

"Mama, my bathwater's getting cold," Jill said reprovingly. She stood barefoot in the doorway, wrapped in a huge pink towel.

"Is it?" She swallowed to ease the tightness in her throat. She would enjoy this precious time with Jill and try not to think of tomorrow. Maybe they wouldn't get the Kavinski accounts. Perhaps Richard would change his mind. "Then I guess we'd better warm it up and get you in it."

"Yep." Jill turned on her heel and vanished into the bathroom.

"You look like a princess." Jill rocked back and forth in her bed, hugging her knees.

"Not likely." Nell gently pushed her down on the pillows and pulled up the blanket. "Now, don't try to stay awake. Take a nap and I'll wake you when I bring our picnic. One of the maids will be right outside in the sitting room." She teasingly ruffled her daughter's hair. "Just in case you see any monsters."

"I did see him, Mama," Jill said gravely.

"Well, you won't see him again." She kissed her forehead. "I promise you."

She had reached the doorway when Jill called, "Remember the wine."

Nell chuckled as she shut the bedroom door. Jill would never suffer from either shyness or inability to assert herself.

Her smile vanished as she passed the mirror in the hall. Only her daughter would see anything princesslike in her appearance. She was a little over five seven but definitely plump rather than Junoesque. Plump and boring and plain as grass. Her features were nondescript except for a nose that turned up instead of fading into the boring sameness as the rest of her face. Even her short brown hair was boring, the same pale acorn shade of Jill's without childhood's sheen. Plain.

Well, Jill thought she was beautiful, and that was enough for her. Not that Richard didn't think she was attractive. He had once told her she reminded him of a country quilt-enduring, traditional, and beautiful in its simplicity. She wrinkled her nose ruefully at her reflection before moving quickly toward the door. She didn't know one woman in the world who wouldn't rather be a glamorous silk sheet than a country quilt. But plain women had one advantage; no one ever noticed when they entered or left a room. She would have no trouble escaping the ballroom with Jill's picnic supper.

She stood at the top of the marble stairs, looking down at the crowded foyer.

Music.

The scent of flowers and expensive perfume.

Laughter and conversation.

Dear God, she didn't want to go down there. The tall, carved doors leading to the ballroom were thrown wide open, and she could see Richard standing in a corner, talking to a tall, bearded man with a ribboned chest. Kavinski? Probably. Martin, Sally, and Nadine were also crowded around him, and Sally's expression was almost fawning. Nell would be expected to meet Kavinski later, but she would only be in the way now.

Her gaze searched the room, and she finally spotted Madame Gueray in the shadow of the French doors. Elise Gueray was fiftyish, thin, and trying desperately to blend into the white velvet drapes. Nell felt a swift rush of sympathy. She knew that frozen smile and hunted expression; she had seen it in her own mirror.

She started down the stairs. Let Richard charm Kavinski and wheel and deal with everyone else in sight. Helping Richard by making that poor woman less miserable was much more to her taste.

"Mon Dieu, the man should have a rose in his teeth," Elise Gueray murmured.

"What?" Nell put a lemon tart on the tray. She had promised Jill a chocolate eclair, but she couldn't see any on the buffet table.

"You know, like Monsieur Schwarzenegger in that movie where he played the spy who could do everything except fly?"

She vaguely remembered the movie and huge Schwarzenegger tangoing with a rose in his teeth. "True Lies?"

Elise shrugged. "I never remember titles, but Schwarzenegger is hard to forget." She nodded at someone across the room. "And so is he. Do you know who he is?"

Nell glanced over her shoulder. The man Elise was indicating did not have Schwarzenegger's height or bulk, but she could see what Elise meant. Dark-haired, middle thirties, with a face more arresting than good-looking, he exuded total self-confidence. He would never be caught in a situation he could not control. No wonder Elise found him fascinating. For people like her and Nell, such assurance was as appealing as it was unattainable. "I've never seen him before. Perhaps he's in Kavinski's entourage."

Elise shook her head.

She was right, Nell realized. This stranger would not travel in anyone's wake.

"Are you that hungry?" Elise's gaze had shifted to Nell's tray.

Heat scorched her cheeks. "No, I thought I'd take a selection up to my daughter."

Elise looked stricken. "I did not mean-"

"I know." Nell made a face. "I don't exactly look underfed."

"You look very nice," Elise said gently. "I did not mean to hurt you."

"You didn't." She grinned. "It's my predilection for chocolate cake that hurts me. It's as comforting as a security blanket."

"And do you need comforting, my dear?"

"Don't we all?" she evaded, then said more firmly, "No, of course not. I have everything I could possibly want." She added softly, "If you have time, I'd like you to meet my daughter tomorrow."

"I would enjoy that very much."

"Oh, there are the eclairs. She loves eclairs." She added the pastry to the treasures on the tray before turning back to Elise. "Will you excuse me? I'd like to take these up to Jill. I told her to take a nap, but she's probably still awake."

"Certainly. I've taken too much of your time. You've been very kind."

"Nonsense. I've enjoyed it. I should be the one to thank you." It was the truth. Once her shyness was dispersed, Elise Gueray revealed herself to possess both humor and wit. She had made the past few hours pass pleasantly enough. Nell picked up the tray. "If I don't see you later this evening, I'll call you after breakfast tomorrow."

Elise nodded, her gaze going to her husband across the room. "I doubt if I'll be here when you return. Henri will be ready to leave soon. He only thought it important he meet Kavinski."

Nell edged around the crowd, her brow creased in a frown of concentration as she balanced the heavy tray.

The wine.

She stopped short outside the ballroom doors.

Oh, why not? A few sips wouldn't hurt Jill; Europeans fed it to their babies all the time. She wanted Jill to be happy tonight. Who knew how many more opportunities they'd get to just be together?

She ducked back inside the ballroom. Champagne. Even better. As she grabbed a glass of champagne from a passing waiter, the tray she was balancing in her other hand wobbled.

The tray was taken from her. "May I help you?"

Arnold Schwarzenegger. No, at closer range he resembled no one but himself. Very high-impact. That confidence was overpowering and she instinctively wanted to escape it. She pulled her gaze away from his. "No, thank you."

She tried to take the tray, but he held it out of her reach. "I insist. It's no trouble." He strolled out of the ballroom and she was forced to hurry after him. "Where is this assignation to take place?"

"Assignation?"

He glanced down at the tray. "He must have a hearty appetite."

She felt the heat sting her cheeks. Twenty-eight years old and she was blushing. She muttered, "It's a treat for my daughter."

He smiled. "Then I assume the assignation is still to take place in a bedroom, and you'll never make it up the steps with the champagne and the tray." He moved across the foyer and started up the staircase. "I'm Nicholas Tanek, and you are ...?"

"Nell Calder." She found herself running after him. "But I don't need help. If you'll give me-"

"Calder? Richard Calder's wife?"

He was surprised. They were always surprised Richard had chosen her. "Yes."

"Well, he appears too busy to help you. Permit me to substitute."

He was clearly not going to be dissuaded. She might as well let him have his way. It would be the quickest way to rid herself of him. She followed him up the steps and found herself watching the smooth flexing of his shoulders and buttocks. Both were sleekly muscled and extremely admirable.

"How old is your daughter?"

Her gaze guiltily flew upward, but he was still looking straight ahead, she realized with relief. "Jill's almost five. Do you have children, Mr. Tanek?"

He shook his head. "Which way?"

"Right."

He asked, "Are you with Continental Trust too?"

"No."

"What do you do?"

"Nothing. I mean-I take care of my daughter." When he didn't comment, she found herself continuing on. "I have quite a few social duties."

"I'm sure you're very busy."

But not like the women in his world. She was sure they were all sleek and gifted and as confident as he.

"You're American?"

She nodded. "I was raised in Raleigh, North Carolina."

"That's a university town, isn't it?"

"Yes, my parents taught at Greenbriar University just outside Raleigh. My father was president of the college."

"It sounds like a very ... secure life."

He meant boring. She bristled. "I enjoy small towns."