In Their Footsteps & Thief of Hearts Read Online Free PDF Page A

face, her ears were blasted by a deafening roar.
    The explosion threw her off her feet, flinging her forward down the front steps. Only her outstretched arms beneath her prevented her head from slamming against the concrete. She was vaguely aware of glass raining down around her and then of the soft crackle of flames. Slowly she managed to roll over onto her back. There she lay, staring upward at the fingers of fire shooting through her bedroom window.
    It was meant for her, she thought. The bomb was meant for her.
    As fire sirens wailed closer, she lay on her back in the broken glass and thought, Is this what it’s come to, my love?
    And she watched her bedroom burn above her.

    Two
    Buckinghamshire, England
    The Eiffel Tower was melting. Jordan stood beside the buffet table and watched the water drip, drip from the ice sculpture into the silver platter of oysters below it. So much for Bastille Day, he thought wearily. Another night, another party. And this one’s about run its course.
    “You have had more than enough oysters for one night, Reggie,” said a peevish voice. “Or have you forgotten your gout?”
    “Haven’t had an attack in months.”
    “Only because I’ve been watching your diet,” said Helena.
    “Then tonight, dear,” said Reggie, plucking up another oyster, “would you mind looking the other way?” He lifted the shell to his mouth and tipped the oyster. Nirvana was written on his face as the slippery glob slid into his throat.
    Helena shuddered. “It’s disgusting, eating a live 38
    Tess Gerritsen
    animal.” She glanced at Jordan, noting his quietly bemused look. “Don’t you agree?”
    Jordan gave a diplomatic shrug. “A matter of upbring-ing, I suppose. In some cultures, they eat termites. Or quivering fish. I’ve even heard of monkeys, their heads shaved, immobilized—”
    “Oh, please,” groaned Helena.
    Jordan quickly escaped before the marital spat could escalate. It was not a healthy place to be, caught between a feuding husband and wife. Lady Helena, he suspected, normally held the upper hand; money usually did.
    He wandered over to join Finance Minister Philippe St.
    Pierre and found himself trapped in a lecture on world economics. The summit was a failure, Philippe declared. The Americans want trade concessions but refuse to learn fiscal responsibility. And on and on and on. It was almost a relief when bugle-beaded Nina Sutherland swept into the conversation, trailing her peacock son, Anthony.
    “It’s not as if Americans are the only ones who have to clean up their act,” snorted Nina. “We’re none of us doing very well these days, even the French. Or don’t you agree, Philippe?”
    Philippe flushed under her direct gaze. “We are all of us having difficulties, Nina—”
    “Some of us more than others.”
    “It is a worldwide recession. One must be patient.” Nina’s jaw shot up. “And what if one cannot afford to wait?” She drained her glass and set it down sharply.
    “What then, Philippe, darling?”
    Conversation suddenly ceased. Jordan noticed that Helena was watching them amusedly, that Philippe was clutching his glass in a white-knuckled fist. What the In Their Footsteps
    39
    blazes was going on here? he wondered. Some private feud? Bizarre tensions were weaving through the gathering tonight. Perhaps it’s all that free-flowing champagne.
    Certainly Reggie had had too much. Their portly house-guest had wandered from the oyster tray to the champagne table. With an unsteady hand, he picked up yet another glass and raised it to his lips. No one was acting quite right tonight. Not even Beryl.
    Certainly not Beryl.
    He spied his sister as she reentered the ballroom. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes glittering with some un-earthly fire. Close on her heels was the American, looking just as flushed and more than a little bothered. Ah, thought Jordan with a smile. A bit of hanky-panky in the garden, was it? Well, good for her. Poor Beryl could use some fresh