"You didn't answer me. Why didn't you want the fantastic Jed with you?"

"He's having a baby."

His lips twitched. "Then he's more fantastic than I deemed possible."

"I told you I wasn't good with words." She grinned. "His- wife, Ysabel, is pregnant and he can't think of anything else right now."

"Not even you?"

"He's my friend, not my keeper." She discarded a seven and dealt herself one. "Besides, I wouldn't have asked Jed on this one."

"Why not?"

"It was my business, not-" She stopped when she saw his gaze narrowing on her face. Cripes, she had almost blurted out more than he needed to know. Falkner exuded a rock-firm strength that, combined with an intent concentration, seemed to draw her into making the most intimate confidences. "You're good," she said. "I heard you were a hotshot reporter at one time. Jed's got that same way of listening to people he's interviewing that makes them want to tell him their life stories."

"These days I use the technique only whenI really want to know." He paused. "And the subject is being evasive."

"Me?" She shrugged. "I'm clear as glass. Ask Jed."

"But Jed's not here," he said softly. "And some kinds of glass have ripples that distort and present a vision that's not really true."

She threw back her head and laughed. "I love it! Good God, you make me sound as mysterious as Mata Hari."

"Do I?" His gaze was fixed on the pulse in the hollow of her neck. "God, you have a lovely throat."

Comfort and security vanished, and she suddenly felt as breathless and uncertain as she had when he'd been pressed against her. "I heard Mata Hari did too," she said flippantly. As he continued staring at her with that faint smile, the air in the room seemed to become charged, to press down on her. Her hands were trembling, so that the cards shook. This had to stop. She went on the attack. "Did you know Mora Renord has been playing the heartbroken mistress while you've been a guest here in Said Ababa? She has yellow ribbons wrapped around every tree on the grounds of her Beverly Hills estate."

"Really?" He smiled, his gaze unwavering.

"It doesn't surprise me. Mora has always milked situations for every word of publicity they were worth."

"You don't mind?"

"Why should I? She has her own priorities and I have mine. We always manage to meet on common ground."

"You mean, in a common bed," she said dryly. "And Lynn Cartwright claims you're engaged to her."

His smile vanished. "Now, that I do mind. I don't like lies." He looked up into her eyes. "Any more?"

"What?"

"Aren't you going to drag out any more of my past liaisons as red herrings?"

"I don't know what you mean."

"The hell you don't. The best way to escape a probe is to intercept and then initiate your own. A man's personal life is usually the area most open to attack."

"Not yours." She met his gaze. "You don't let anyone close enough to touch you, do you?"

He stiffened.

She had hit a nerve. It was about time. She was tired of being on the defensive. "Oh, you have plenty of friends, but you've never had apermanent mistress or a wife. I have a theory about that."

"I can't wait to hear it," he said silkily.

"You regard your employees as your family."

"And why do I do that?"

She frowned. "I'm not sure. I'll have to think about it."

"But I'm sure you'll tell me when you come to a conclusion."

"Geez, you don't have to be so testy. You're the one who started this."

"I didn't expect you to-" He broke off and a smile lit his face. "You're right. I shouldn't dish it out if I can't take it. You're proving to be an interesting challenge, Ronnie."

"I'm not trying to be a challenge. I'm just doing a job." She spread her hand out on the bed. "Full house."

He threw down his cards. "You were telling the truth. You're very good"-he paused-"at cards."

She frowned. "Look, I didn't mean to pry into your private life. It just seemed-"

"A good defense?"

She nodded. "You ask too many questions." "It's the only way to get to know someone." "I've known Jed for six years and he never asked me anything. He just accepted me as I was."

"Then he has a singular lack of curiosity for a newsman. Perhaps I'd better rethink upping my offer." He stared at her. "All right, I'll try to restrain my curiosity, but there's one more question I want to ask."

"What?" she said warily, not looking him in the eye.

"Nothing very sensitive. I just want to know why you came after me."

"The Emmy. I told you that I-" She broke off as she finally met his gaze. "Oh, all right. I liked your face."

"I beg your pardon?"

"I kept seeing your picture everywhere and it made me feel-" She stopped, searching for words.

"What?" he asked, intrigued.

"Safe."

"Safe?"

She could tell he didn't like the description, but there was nothing she could do about that. It was the truth. She nodded. "I'd never seen anyone who looked as strong and sure of himself as you did. And I'd already heard how you took care of your people and I liked that too."

"Good God."

"What's wrong now? For heaven's sake, you act as if I've insulted you."

"You have a father fixation on me."

She blinked. "Nonsense. I already have a father."

"Oh, yes, this Evan," he said grimly. "Tell me about Evan. When do I meet him?"

"You don't. He's no longer in Said Ababa."

"He left you alone? It appears this father of yours isn't at all protective." His lips tightened. "Well, I'll be damned if I'll take his place. For Lord's sake, I'm only thirty-seven. I'm not ready to adopt a thrill-crazy kid who wants to-"

"Are you nuts? I'm not asking anything of you but that you don't do anything stupid and get us killed." Her voice turned fierce as she went on. "And I'm not a kid and Evan is already more father than I can handle. Why should I want another when he's always-"

"Okay. Okay." He grimaced as he held up a hand to stop the barrage of words. "You stung my ego, but I don't have any right to condemn your motives when you've saved my life. I apologize. Can we forget it?"

She couldn't forget it. For some reason the accusation bothered her. "For Pete's sake," sheburst out, "there's nothing wrong with liking someone's face."

"Nothing wrong at all," he said wearily. "I suppose I shouldn't complain. No one has liked this ugly mug of mine enough to risk their neck for it before."

What did she really know about Gabe Falkner? Perhaps it had been more than his ego she had hurt. She instinctively rushed on to soothe the wound. "Your face isn't ugly. It's not pretty, but it has… character."

"And positively exudes safety. Now that's a word boring enough to please even your Jed."

There didn't seem to be anything she could do to repair the damage. She sighed. "I wish Fatima would get back with our clothes."

"Why? I'm beginning to become accustomed to being nude in your presence. Or don't I present the proper paternal image for you?"

She chose to ignore the goad. "You wouldn't let me shoot you without clothes."

"Shoot?" His gaze went to the pillow hiding the Magnum. "I didn't think our little contretemps was that serious."

"Very funny. You know I mean with my camera.

I want to get some pictures while we're here at Fatima's. I haven't taken any footage since you started down the Street of Camels."

His eyes widened. "You were shooting footage just before the escape?"

"Of course. But I had to stop right away. Everything was moving too fast." She shook her head. "Pity."

"I suppose I should be glad you thought my life was worth sacrificing a good picture."

"Don't be silly. I have my priorities straight." She continued wistfully: "Still, it would have been wonderful. All that action… Oh, well, I'll get more while we're on the road." She shrugged, then took the camera out of her bag. "And here."

"Not yet," he said. "I prefer to be clothed in more than my dignity before you indulge your passion." He smiled crookedly. "However, if we could come to terms about indulging my own passion, I might be persuaded to give you your way."

She felt color heat her cheeks. "I'll wait."

He repeated her own word softly: "Pity."

The tone of his voice, the attitude of his naked body were suddenly charged with sensuality. She could feel her breasts swell in response beneath the thin cotton sheet draped over them. Cripes, what was wrong with her?

"Come off it," she said gruffly. "I know I hurt your feelings, but you'll get over it. I don't know why men feel that every argument with a woman has to be settled in bed."

"I actually prefer that they be settled before bed, but the other way can be exciting too."

She made a face. "You see, you're like all the rest."

"And just who are the 'rest' of the men in your life?"

The edge was back in his voice, she noticed. "You're not really interested." She made a vague gesture with her hand and changed the subject. "This is a great camera. I've had it for four years and the lenses are-"

"I'm sure your camera is superb and I don't give a damn about your lenses." He forced her to meet his gaze. "I'll let you back away from this confrontation, but I want to make a few things clear. First and foremost, I am not your father and I have no intention of acting like one. Second, I am not in the habit of going to bed with women 'to take the edge off' or to try to win an argument. I've always thought sex was the purest form of pleasure and should be performed with the greatest thought and skill and drive. I haven't had a woman in over a year and I'mhorny as hell, but I don't want one of Fatima's women. I'll wait until I can have the partner I do want." He paused. "Shall I tell you what's going to occur when I have that partner?"