As if she could sense that Gedeon and Slayer were struggling to believe Hawkins and not leap up and kill him, Meiling once again took control. She glided to her feet, a delicate flowing motion of pure femininity, drawing the attention of every male in the room—including the leopard.
She went up to the desk, inserting herself between Hawkins and Gedeon. “May I?” she asked in her soft, lilting voice. She held out her hand for the photograph.
Calm poured into the room. Peace filled Gedeon. Filled Slayer. Instantly the leopard was still, watching Hawkins but waiting to see what would happen, rather than trying to tear Gedeon apart to get his way.
Guy Hawkins handed Meiling the picture. Meiling smiled at it and then up at him. “She’s really quite lovely, Mr. Hawkins. I can see you’re very worried about her. Has she gone missing?”
Gedeon had the insane desire to catch Meiling by her shoulders and drag her away from Hawkins. If that man was stupid enough to lay his hands on her, Meiling could wipe up the floor with him. He wouldn’t know that. She looked so delicate with her slim little figure. If Hawkins was so in love with his wife and so damned worried about her, why was he suddenly looking at Meiling with speculative interest? If there was one thing Gedeon could see—and smell—on other men, it was sexual interest in Meiling.
Meiling stepped back, holding the photograph in one hand, her sweet smile in place, but as she took that one step back, she kicked Gedeon in the shins, hard. Pull it together, Leopard Boy. He’s a client. Hear him out. We need to know what’s going on. If Slayer is acting up, get across the room.
The woman, for being so small, knew how to kick. He should have been angry, but Gedeon was elated. It was the first time Meiling had spoken telepathically to him since the “incident.” More important, she called him Leopard Boy. Like it or not, that was a term of endearment between them.
He stood up, towering over Meiling, crowding her a little so that his body, for the first time in far too long, felt her soft form molded against his. Slayer retreated even more, content to be near the woman who always calmed him. Meiling, the consummate professional, didn’t so much as stiffen. She stared down at the photograph and then showed it to Gedeon simply by holding it up.
“Isn’t she beautiful? I saw her in New York two years ago. She opened on Broadway in the production of Baby’s Got the Blues. She was absolutely brilliant.”
“She was nominated for a Tony Award,” Hawkins informed them.
“She should have won,” Meiling said sincerely. She handed the photograph back to Hawkins. “She was wonderful in that role.”
Gedeon moved away from Meiling, circling the room, taking in every aspect of it. No matter how much he wanted to view it differently, he still felt he was in the middle of a theater set. Why did he feel like Guy Hawkins had staged his office to appear as if he were grieving? The room was actually quite stark. Although spacious, there was very little furniture, which only called attention to the curved desk.
The walls were either sheets of glass or wooden panels. There were no pictures on the walls. Again, that placed Hawkins’s desk as the center of attention and cast the spotlight directly onto the only framed photograph on the desk’s surface. He studied the office setup from every angle while Meiling engaged Hawkins in conversation about Laverne’s career on Broadway. As a musical theater actress, her reputation had grown fast.
The farther away Gedeon moved from Meiling, the more agitated he felt. That triggered Slayer into escalating his aggressive behavior. Or was it the other way around? Gedeon didn’t know or care, only that he had a strong urge to separate Meiling from Hawkins immediately. The impression of danger was so strong that he crossed the room again to stand within striking distance of the man, deliberately allowing their client to see the killer in him.
What is wrong with you?
I don’t know. I’m getting the impression that you’re in danger. Slayer feels it as well.
He knew he should ask her if she felt in danger when she was near Hawkins. The closer he was to Hawkins, the more powerful the feeling became. He was convinced he wasn’t being emotional because he’d had a fight earlier with Meiling. It was because their client was looking at her in an inappropriate way as he tried to convince them he adored his wife.
Meiling? What are you feeling? What are your impressions of him?
Meiling didn’t answer him at once, but she did move away from the desk, sitting once more, very gracefully, in the chair. “Please tell us more, Mr. Hawkins. Why did you send for us?”