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said.
    “By all means, feel free.”
    “I’m in perfect control of my hormones.”
    Roux vented a derisive snort.
    “I’m going to dinner with him to pay off a debt,” Annja said. “Garin helped me out while I was in India.”
    “A debt? ” Roux sounded as though he couldn’t believe it. “You don’t pay off a debt like that. At the very least not in the manner in which you’re doing it.”
    “Dinner’s not exactly the worst thing that I could imagine having to do.”
    Roux snorted again.
    “And,” Annja went on, “as I recall, you don’t mind waving the debt card around when you want my help with something.”
    “That’s different.”
    “How?”
    “I helped you find the sword.”
    “So what? I’m going to owe you forever now?”
    “No,” Roux said. “Having the sword means you have a duty and an obligation to the powers behind that sword.”
    “Whatever powers might be behind this sword, it’s definitely not you.”
    Roux sighed in displeasure. “I help you with what you’re supposed to do. We’re on the same side.”
    Although she didn’t say anything, Annja doubted that. Roux, like Garin, had his own agenda. Neither of them chose to entrust her with it. Roux was always exactly on the side of Roux.
    “Harboring any leniency with Garin is a mistake,” Roux said.
    “There’s no leniency,” Annja said. “There’s dinner.”
    A knock sounded at the door. “Miss Creed,” Gesauldi called out. “Gesauldi doesn’t wish to hurry you, but time is of the essence.”
    “I’ll be right there,” Annja replied.
    “Was that Gesauldi?” Roux demanded.
    Annja furrowed her brow. “Do you know Gesauldi?”
    “He sent the dressmaker?” Roux shouted.
    “Gesauldi heard that,” Gesauldi called from the other room. “Gesauldi is no dressmaker. Gesauldi is an artist. ”
    “He heard you,” Annja said.
    “I don’t care,” Roux snapped.
    “How do you know Gesauldi?”
    “If Gesauldi is involved,” Roux said, “then Garin is seeing this as more than a one-time date.”
    Annja smiled, then caught sight of her reflection in the mirror and turned away. You’re not going to think past tonight, she told herself. But she knew she was.
    “I don’t get that impression,” Annja said.
    “Annja,” Roux growled, “Garin sent Gesauldi.”
    “Of course he did,” Gesauldi said from the other room. “You only send for Gesauldi when you want the very best.”
    He must, Annja thought, have ears like a bat.
    “Maybe you should ask Gesauldi how many times Garin has sent him to dress his women,” Roux suggested.
    That thought had crossed Annja’s mind, but she hadn’t given in to the impulse.
    “Gesauldi will never tell,” Gesauldi said. “A promise from Gesauldi is like a little piece of forever. Because Gesauldi will take such knowledge to the grave with him.”
    Terrific, Annja thought. “You know, Roux,” she said, “it wouldn’t have hurt you to let me have my little moment here.”
    “You’re making a mistake,” Roux said.
    Annja hung up.
    * * * *
    At seven-thirty, Johan called Annja. “Miss Creed, there is a gentleman here to see you.”
    Dressed in the spectacular black dress Gesauldi had tailored so that it showed her body to its best, Annja surveyed the results in the full-length mirror. She had to admit it—she looked exquisite.
    Gesauldi had also brought along a hairdresser and makeup artist, who worked their magic, as well. She wore her hair pulled back, held by jeweled combs. The only thing missing was a necklace, but she hadn’t brought anything with her. This was supposed to have been a working trip, not one of leisure.
    “Tell him to come up,” Annja said.
    “I have suggested that,” Johan replied. “The gentleman refuses. He insists that such behavior is rude and unseemly.”
    Annja thought about that.
    “Given the circumstance,” Johan said in a lower voice, “I would have to applaud the gentleman on his sense of decorum. If you wish, I can come up for