No One to Trust - Iris Johansen [34]
“Where is Luis now?”
She looked away from him. “He’s still with the rebels.”
“I take it you’re not close.”
“No.” She touched another cover. “Macbeth. Do you like Shakespeare?”
“Culture? Me? I bought the entire stock from an estate auction.”
“Really?”
“Why should that surprise you?”
She stiffened as a thought occurred to her. “It only surprises me you feel it necessary to lie to me.”
“Why do you think I’m lying to you?”
“Aren’t you?”
He was silent a moment. “I did buy the library at an estate auction. But I examined every book on those shelves before I made my bid. I do like Shakespeare. He understood human frailties. Are you satisfied now?”
“No, because I think you lied so I wouldn’t feel uncomfortable. You don’t have to feel sorry for me. I’ve led a rough life and I haven’t had any formal education, but I’m not ashamed of what I am or what my father was or what I’ve had to do to survive. I’d match my—”
“Shh.” His fingers were across her lips. “I don’t feel sorry for you. I’m not that stupid. You’re probably a hell of a lot better educated than I’ll ever be. I was kicked out of more schools than you can count on both hands. I didn’t even crack a book until I was fifteen. I was the most ignorant rowdy on the face of the planet. If I wasn’t honest, it was my built-in camouflage coming into play.”
She turned her head away to avoid the touch of his hand. He was warm and hard and her lips felt—She drew a deep breath and stepped back. “Why? You don’t care what I think about you.”
“It appears I do. What a surprise.” He nodded at the wall behind her. “That’s Judd’s painting.”
As she turned around, she felt a surge of relief that he’d changed the subject. She didn’t like what she was feeling. The sexual tension had emerged out of nowhere, and she wanted to snuff it out.
The painting. Look at the painting.
It was a small landscape of the hills surrounding the ranch. But the talent and power of the picture wasn’t small. Its effect was like a stormy burst of lightning. “It’s wonderful.”
“It reminds me of an El Greco. I don’t tell Judd that because he’d be insulted.”
She remembered what Morgan had said after dinner. “Because he likes to do things alone. And in his own way.”
Galen nodded. “We all like to be considered unique. And he is unique, of course.”
She nodded. “Is he going to have an exhibition?”
“Not right away. He’s been concentrating on his art only since he came here, and he has to create a body of work. Besides, he has to stay out of the limelight for a while.”
“Why?”
“He wants to stay alive.”
“I … see.”
He smiled. “How tactful. You don’t see at all. Judd used to do sanctions for the CIA. He was exceptionally good and they chose him to take out a general in the North Korean government. Unfortunately, his superiors decided that it was a mistake and that the man who did it should have his head served up as a sacrifice to diplomacy. Judd objected. Can you imagine that?”
“So he’s hiding out?”
“Until my friend Logan manages to pull some strings in Washington to take the heat off. He’s got a lot of clout, but it could take some time.” He glanced at her. “But you needn’t worry about Judd being around Barry. He won’t hurt him.”
“I’m not worried. I believe I should be a decent judge of character by now. What someone does is not necessarily what they are.”
“And vice versa.”
“Aren’t you running a risk helping him?”
He shrugged. “I always liked Judd.” He took her elbow. “I’ll show you the rest of the house. The game room’s kind of fun. I don’t suppose you play pool?”
“No.”
“Didn’t think so. Not that many pool halls in the jungle. We’ll start lessons tomorrow. I’m a fantastic teacher.”
“Is there anything you’re not fantastic at?”
“Can’t think of anything.” He opened another door. “You’re going to like this. It’s right up your—What’s wrong?”
It was a gym. Mirrored walls and metal equipment.
And the mat lying on the floor.
“You’re white as a sheet. What the hell is wrong?”
The mat.
“Nothing.” She moistened her lips. Stop shaking. You were just caught off guard. She