Chapter 10

Feeling decadent and not at all caring, Dorothy slept late, staying in bed long after Quatre left to take a shower. She had glanced at the clock, but closed her eyes again knowing that he was leaving early so that he could be back in his suite when Jamila awoke.

Before he left, he sat on the edge of the bed, and feeling his eyes on her, Dorothy opened her own. "I'd rather you didn't look at me this early in the morning," she said sleepily. "It can't be a pretty sight."

He leaned forward to brush his lips over hers, which were tender from his kisses during the night. "You are beautiful any time of the day."

"You're a liar. My makeup is smeared and I haven't gotten a decent night's sleep in a week." She reached up to sift her fingers through his wet hair, smoothing it back. Neither of them had been prepared to spend the night together, and so his hair was tangled from the shower. "How busy are you today?"

"I imagine I'll be busy researching X7350. Hassan suggested moving the workforce from L4 to the resource satellite."

Dorothy propped herself up on an elbow, tucking the sheet under her arms so that too much bare flesh wouldn't distract him. "Do you suspect him of having ties to those who want to disrupt al-Jazar's regime?"

For a moment Quatre looked away from her and she knew that he was uncomfortable with the exchange of information going on behind his back. Heero had paid her a visit after Quatre had left the Preventer offices. When he told her what Quatre had told Morley about the politics on L4, Dorothy had just as difficult a time believing it until Heero showed her the research he had done into the situation. He had even managed to uncover hidden accounts of two Preventer agents who were subsequently arrested for taking bribes and altering reports. Was Al-Jazar a dictator? There was no question that he was, but he seemed to be extending his protection to those that needed it most. That left the very wealthy and very powerful minority anxious to remove him before they were forced to share their power. Despite the fair wages Quatre demanded paid to his employees, Winner Enterprises was heavily taxed to raise money for the government to support social programs, but Quatre was apparently the sole supporter of Mahmad Al-Jazar among those of his class.

"I don't know what I will find out, but I have to research this project. Because of my marriage to Sadirah, Hassan has become a prominent figure on L4. I can only hope that he hasn't abused the privileges that have come his way."

Dorothy knew nothing about the man except that Quatre had placed a great deal of trust in him, which Barak had earned throughout the years working with both Quatre and his father before him.

"I'd like to have breakfast with you, but I can't." Quatre leaned forward to kiss her neck and take a deep breath. "You smell like roses, Dorothy, and something that I'll be thinking about all day. I won't be able to concentrate. What are you planning to do?"

She ran her finger along the line of his jaw, then traced his lips. "I'm going to lie abed waiting for you."

Quatre nipped at her finger, then stood. "Don't tempt me to stay."

She laughed softly and pulled down the pillow he had used and she wrapped her arms around it. "I'm going to sleep late, call in sick, then go home to pick up a few things."

He chuckled as he stood. "Call in sick for the week and then you won't need anything." Picking up the phone, he dialed a number, said something in Arabic, and then hung it up. "Rashid will be here in a few moments."

"Do you tire of all the security?" she asked. "It must be very bothersome to Jamila to be surrounded constantly by your men."

"They adore her, so she has them twisted around her little finger. And Jamila has some measure of freedom because she is not as recognizable as I am."

"Because you won't allow her to be photographed? That is a very good policy."

"One difficult to maintain." A soft knock at the door precluded any further discussion. "I will see you this evening."

Dorothy watched him leave, then drifted contentedly back to a dreamy sleep that was interrupted several hours later when the hotel maid knocked at the door. She apologized profusely for her intrusion, but Dorothy thanked her for waking her and told her she could return in about an hour. After taking a long, hot shower, Dorothy was just about finished dressing when another knock at the door interrupted her. Expecting the maid, she was surprised that room service was delivering a light breakfast, and she was touched to find a white lily lying across the tray. She tipped the young man who tried to flirt with her, then sat down to enjoy a pastry and cup of coffee. Her future might be filled with such mornings, sitting in a hotel room having breakfast alone, musing about the night she had spent with Quatre and looking forward to the next. Although Dorothy didn't want this kind of life, when he returned to L4, she knew that she would wish to have it back.

Leaving the room, she took the lily with her, and she was feeling rather euphoric as she rode the elevator down to the lobby. By the time the elevator reached the ground floor, Dorothy had mentally planned her instructions to the maid and what she would say to her superior to explain her absence at the morning meeting. Although she had told Quatre she would call in sick, Dorothy had some work to finish from the previous day that she didn't want to leave for anyone else. The trip home and back would delay her arrival at the office, but she couldn't very well show up wearing the same clothing that she had worn the day before. That meant she would have to stay later at work. She wouldn't be able see Quatre until after Jamila's bedtime anyway so she had to find some way to fill her time.

She was crossing the lobby to the front door when she heard her name called, and turning, she was annoyed to see Randolph Morrison headed in her direction. Both Quatre and Heero had told her about the payment Khalid bin Fayiz had received from Morrison, and while neither of them believed Morrison had actually paid to have her killed, Dorothy had her doubts.

"I wasn't expecting to see you here," he remarked as his eyes swept over her, then returned to her face.

Dorothy shivered with revulsion and wondered what she had ever seen in him. "I was just returning to the office."

He raised his brow and his lip curled in a scornful smile. "An early lunch or a late breakfast?" His insinuation was quite clear, and Dorothy could not help the faint blush the warmed her cheeks.

"I have nothing to discuss with you." Dorothy tried to go past him, but he grabbed her wrist in a tight grasp.

"We have a lot to discuss, you bitch," he said through clenched teeth.

"Let go of me," she said in a low voice. "You are making a scene. I doubt that would be good for business."

"As good as the many visits the Preventer agents have made to my office? Taking my money wasn't good enough? You had to accuse me of attempting to murder you?" His bitter laughter drew attention to them. Dorothy glanced around nervously and noticed the elevator door opening, and stepping out was Rashid accompanying Sadirah Barak who was holding her daughter's hand.

Morrison followed her gaze, then remarked, "I guess I know why you're here wearing the same clothing you had on yesterday."

Dorothy looked back at him. "Are you spying on me?"

"I don't need to." He thrust a newspaper at her. "Not front page news, my dear, but I imagine when the press gets a hold of the information that you're fucking Quatre Winner, the story won't be buried in the society pages."

Dorothy opened the paper and was mortified to find on the society page a large picture of her standing with Jamila near the lion exhibit while Quatre stood nearby. Although the papers didn't identify the little girl on whose shoulder her hand rested in obvious affection, anyone that cared to make a connection would realize that she was the daughter of Quatre Raberba Winner. The caption was a blurb about her financial support of the zoo and the funding of a new exhibit. In all that had happened since then, Dorothy had forgotten about the large donation she had made before leaving the zoo the previous day. There was no credit given for the photograph, but by the professional quality, she suspected that one of the photographers she had taken to the zoo with her had made a little money on the side by supplying the photograph to the newspaper.

"Miss Dorothy!"

Hearing Jamila's cry from across the lobby startled Dorothy into dropping the paper. As she turned to see Jamila avoid the restraining hand Rashid held out, she heard Morrison snidely remark, "This should be interesting."

Jamila reached Dorothy just a few feet ahead of her shame-faced bodyguard. She almost threw her arms around her, then with a sidelong glance at her tight-lipped mother approaching at a more dignified pace, she curtseyed and extended her gloved hand. "I am pleased to see you again, Miss Dorothy."

Dorothy took her hand and smiled at her although she was feeling very self-conscious with both Morrison and Quatre's wife watching her. "I am delighted to see you as well, Miss Jamila. However, I think you owe Rashid an apology for your very unladylike behavior just now."

As Jamila turned to speak to Rashid, Dorothy looked at Sadirah. "It is nice to see you again, Mrs. Winner."

Sadirah did not respond, but lifted her chin and turned deliberately away to greet Morrison. "I was hoping to see you again, Mr. Morrison. We have some business to discuss."

"Indeed we do. Are you free for lunch?"

"Unfortunately I have made plans to shop with my daughter."

Jamila tugging on her hand drew Dorothy's attention away. "Look, Miss Dorothy, I have the angel." She opened her little handbag and pulled the porcelain angel from inside. "She was just where I left her. But I will keep her with me from now on so that I do not worry about her."

"What do you have?" Sadirah's voice startled Jamila and she almost dropped the angel. She tried to hide it, but her mother held out her hand and Jamila had no choice but to place it in her palm.

"I gave it to her as a gift when I saw how she had admired it," lied Dorothy. Jamila's mother didn't need to know the real circumstances. Sadirah's hand seemed to be trembling as she stared at the object, and Dorothy noted that Jamila was watching her mother with white-faced fear. Rashid shifted nervously while Morrison watched with a malicious smirk.

After a moment of uncomfortable silence, Sadirah calmly handed the angel back to her daughter. "I hope you thanked Miss Catalonia for her generous gift."

Jamila sighed noisily with relief, then quickly hid the angel back in her handbag. "I did, Mama."

"If you are finished chatting with Miss Catalonia, then we shall be on our way."

Jamila curtseyed again, but this time she noticed the newspaper lying on the floor and she exclaimed with delight as she reached down to pick it up. "Look, Mama! Here is a picture of me in the newspaper! And here is Miss Catalonia and Papa!"

Rashid reached out to take the paper as Sadirah stared speechlessly, her face pink with humiliation. "We had better go, Missy Jamila."

Jamila was pouting. "I want the picture!"

Dorothy almost wished she were anywhere but here and didn't think the situation could get any worse.

Jamila proved her wrong. "Oh! What a pretty flower! It is a lily. I know because it is my Papa's favorite flower."

"It is time to go!" snapped Sadirah, all patience gone. She seized Jamila by the wrist, and Dorothy did not miss the little girl's wince of pain. Dorothy would have taken a step after the woman pulling her daughter away, but Rashid put a restraining hand on her arm.

"Do not interfere," he warned her in a low voice. "This is none of your concern."

Dorothy looked at him. "She is hurting her."

"She will not cause her any harm," he told her quietly. "But you cannot blame her for feeling as she does." Rashid released her, then headed after Sadirah and Jamila who had been joined by a handful of other guards, but he paused by Morrison. "I believe you have concluded your discussion with Miss Catalonia."

The smug smile faded from Morrison's lips as the threatening tone of Rashid's voice sunk in. He glared at Dorothy. "We will continue this at another time."

Rashid waited until Morrison left, then nodded to Dorothy and joined the group waiting for him in a limousine.

Her emotions in turmoil, Dorothy headed to her office first intending to find the person responsible for the photograph in the paper. While the guard at the front desk greeted her with a smile and a friendly teasing comment about sleeping late, Dorothy received more than one furtive glance from the office staff when she reached the floor with her office. She saw Tracy James exit the public relations director's office, but her assistant looked away when she waved to her.

Her superior stepped into the hall. "I see you are here. Come into my office, Miss Catalonia."

Dorothy glanced at Tracy as they passed in the hall, but she didn't say anything. She didn't even have a chance to sit when the director began to speak. "You must be aware by now about the picture in the paper."

"I had nothing to do with that," she said. "One of the staff photographers..."

"Which you took to the zoo with you yesterday," he added.

Dorothy stared at him incredulously. "You approved the assignment!"

He shifted, then cleared his throat. "Be that as it may, I cannot ignore the outcome of your actions."

"My actions?!"

He ignored her outburst. "I have just gotten off the phone with the wife of Quatre Winner. She is furious over the breach of security brought on by your careless actions. I'm afraid that I have no choice but to let you go."

"You are firing me?" Dorothy was shocked.

"There is little else I can do to prove our sincere apologies. Tracy James has done an admirable job as your assistant and since she already knows many of your duties, I have appointed her my new assistant."

"So this is it?" Dorothy couldn't believe that after all the hard work she had put into her job that she was being treated so callously.

The director sighed. "We both know that you do not need to work, and while I was reluctant to take you as my assistant given your past and your family's history, I was pleasantly surprised by your dedication. If you still feel a need to work, I will give Bob Morley a call. You know as well as I do that he would jump at the chance to get you on his staff."

In a daze, Dorothy walked to her office where she found Tracy waiting nervously. A cardboard box was on her desk for her to put her personal affects inside, but as Dorothy stared at her empty desk, she realized that she had nothing. No pictures of her family, no cards, nothing to prove that she had actually been here.

"I'm sorry," Tracy finally said.

Dorothy let out a breath and looked at her. "None of this is your fault. If I have to go, at least I can be glad that you are getting the recognition that you deserve. I could not have asked for a better assistant."

After handing in her keys and her security badge, Dorothy left the building for the last time. When she got into her car, she noted that the lily that she had left lying on the seat was wilted, and as she stared at it, the passenger door opened. Dorothy's heart leapt in fear, thinking of her recent confrontation with Morrison, but she was instantly relieved, then annoyed to see Heero Yuy.

"So you got canned," he remarked.

"I didn't need the job," she said. While she didn't need it financially, Dorothy had felt a sense of fulfillment working in some capacity for the Earth Sphere United Nation. Now she was beginning to feel depressed knowing that her only recourse would be to join the Preventers.

"Office politics are a bitch," said Heero.

"What office politics? I made a mistake, not the first of many."

Heero chuckled. "When I saw your picture in the paper, I knew you wouldn't be so careless, so I checked into it."

"Don't you have better things to do with your time?" Dorothy didn't like the fact that Heero was prying into her life.

He ignored her sarcastic remark. "What do you know about the photographer who snapped that happy little picture?"

"I don't even know the man's name. When I left for the zoo I requested a couple of staff photographers." Dorothy frowned at him. "What is your point?"

"The photographer's name isn't as important as who he sleeps with."

"Don't you think you dug a little too deeply into his life?"

"Did you arrange for the photographers yourself?"

"My personal assistant, Tracy James, does those kinds of things." When Heero didn't say anything, his point became clear to Dorothy. "She set me up?"

"I suppose she was getting a little tired of standing in your shadow."

Dorothy wanted to laugh and cry at the same time.

"Are you going to do anything about it?" he asked.

Now she did laugh. "What are you suggesting, Heero? Shall we let the air out of her tires or should we frame her for some crime and laugh as she rots in prison?"

Heero snorted. "I'd enjoy the latter, but I suspect you would have an attack of conscience. I liked you better when you didn't seem to have any scruples."

She started the car. "Thank you for brightening my day, Heero. I might have gone home only upset to lose my job, but now you've made me feel like a complete fool because I underestimated Tracy James."

"I'll let the air out of her tires." Heero opened the car door and stepped out, but before he closed it he leaned in and looked at her. "You might be interested to know that Quatre Winner sent one of his goons to Switzerland to check up on your activities there."

Dorothy stared after him as he walked away, unable to move, unable to breathe, unable to think.

"I'm feeling a little sinful just lying around getting a tan." Dorothy turned on her side to look at Quatre who was lying beside her on a lounge chair. They were on a yacht, several miles out to sea where he hoped to avoid the pressing business matters that he had been ignoring for three days now.

He flipped up his sunglasses to look at her. "The only sin around here is that you don't have enough lotion on you. I think you're getting a little pink."

Dorothy laughed. "You just put some on me a few minutes ago."

Quatre reached for the bottle of oil. "And I've been thinking about it ever since."

So had she, and she suspected that his thoughts were just as wicked as hers, but when he moved to put his hands on her bare flesh, she rolled away with a laugh and scrambled to her feet. "I really don't think that is necessary, Mr. Winner."

"Then you aren't being very observant, Miss Dorothy."

Passing her gaze over his body, she discovered what he was referring to and didn't suppress a giggle. He chuckled and lunged for her, but she darted away. Dorothy managed to stay out of his reach until a sudden sharp turn of the yacht made her lose her footing and fall into his arms. She suspected the captain of the yacht of purposely turning the vessel and was a little embarrassed to be seen frolicking in the nude with Quatre. Quatre picked her up and carried her below to his luxurious huge cabin where they stayed for the remainder of the day.

"This is like a dream," she murmured much later as she lay with her head on his chest. "I've never been so happy in my life."

Quatre's arm tightened around her and she felt his lips touch the top of her head. "Then let's not wake up."

Dorothy raised her head to look at his face, into his blue eyes. "If this is just a dream, then maybe it wouldn't hurt for me to say this. I love you."

Quatre smiled and caressed her cheek. "It wouldn't hurt to say it even if this weren't a dream."

She felt even happier with him knowing how she felt even though he hadn't returned the sentiment. In her heart, she knew that he felt the same by the way he looked at her, by the way he held her, by his tenderness when he made love to her. Dorothy didn't need to hear the words.

They dined on the yacht while the sun set and by the time the captain took them back to the port it was very late. Quatre escorted her off the yacht with his hand on the small of her back, so she felt him tense before she actually saw the man standing at the end of the dock waiting for him.

Quatre didn't have a chance to make an introduction before the older man began speaking Arabic, his tone irritated, then angry. When he gestured to Dorothy, she didn't need to understand the words to recognize an insult. Quatre's body jerked in response and Dorothy knew he clenched his fist, but he seemed to gain control of his anger because he said something calmly to other man. The other man raised a brow and looked at Dorothy again, this time assessing, and Dorothy wished she knew what Quatre had said to her. The man spoke words to her in a more controlled tone so she assumed that he was apologizing. She nodded her acknowledgment and was relieved to feel Quatre relax.

The two men had a short exchange before Quatre led Dorothy to the car. On the way back to the beach house she asked him about the man at the pier.

"He is my business manager, Hassan Barak. He is not happy that I have left him to shoulder all the responsibility these last few days."

"I suppose he blames me," she concluded aloud.

"Let's just say he hasn't been happy with my behavior for a long time now. He was a friend of my father, and his disappointment is much the same as any my father might have felt."

Although he was still driving a bit too fast, at least he wasn't racing on the highway recklessly. "Maybe you should give Mr. Hassan some assistance."

"I have to sign contracts tomorrow." He gave an exasperated sigh. "So I'll have to read them tonight."

"Do what you have to do. I'm not going anywhere." Dorothy laughed. "I have no way of leaving anyway."

Quatre chuckled. "I'm a sneaky devil, aren't I?"

"Sweeping me away and trapping me at your secluded beach house until I surrendered to you? I'd say so."

"Aren't you afraid of me, knowing how devious I am?"

"That just makes you more exciting."

When they returned to the beach house, Dorothy went to her room while Quatre disappeared into his office where he would probably spend the night reading the contracts that Hassan Barak had left for him while they were on the yacht. She didn't know anything about his business proposal except that Quatre didn't seem to like the terms. The day had been exhausting, so she didn't have any trouble falling asleep without Quatre holding her. Sometime during the night, he slipped into the bed with her, but he did nothing more than pull her into his arms and kiss her before allowing her to sleep again.

They had breakfast together in the morning, but while Dorothy wore her bathing suit so that she could swim after breakfast, Quatre was dressed in a business suit that made him appear distant. He seemed distracted, so she didn't try to make conversation.

Finishing, he tossed down his napkin and stood. "Well, Miss Dorothy, I guess the dream is over. I have to wake up."

She smiled at him. "I'll still be dreaming when you get back."

He didn't return the smile. "I've never once been able to recapture a dream."

Dorothy watched him leave with a perplexed frown. A few moments later she heard the tires of his car screech as he pulled away form the beach house. Through out the day, she tried to make sense of what he had said, but she couldn't, so she resolved to ask him when he returned. A candlelit dinner had been set for two, but Dorothy ate alone and noted that the servant seemed disconcerted to be waiting on only her because his eyes kept straying to the empty place at the table. If she thought he could understand her, she would make conversation, but Dorothy had only heard Quatre speak Arabic to him, so she doubted he understood her language.

Well after midnight, Dorothy decided to wait for him in bed, and although she resolved to stay awake, she fell asleep. A few hours later, she awoke to noises, and hearing what definitely sounded like a woman's giggle, she pulled a silk wrapper on and left the room to investigate. She found them stumbling around in the dark, Quatre who couldn't stand on his own, and the two women he had been with at the dance club supporting him between them.

"Oh no, we have company," the redhead said loudly.

Quatre moaned and tried to raise his head, but he had apparently taken something that was preventing him. Dorothy felt as if the bottom had dropped out of her world and she was falling from a very high place. She didn't need to stay and watch the women groping him to know that she wasn't wanted or needed. Turning on her heel, she marched back to her room. For a moment she stood staring in dark, hearing the giggling women, Quatre's low, groggy voice, and then nothing, as they must have gone into his room. There were so many emotions running through her that she didn't know which one to feel. So she decided not to feel anything.

Unable to sleep, unwilling to speak to Quatre Raberba Winner ever again, she made sure her things were packed, then she called the airport to send a car. By the time the sun was rising, she was on her way to catch a flight back home. Dorothy tried not to dwell on Quatre, but she couldn't help but be hurt by the games he had played. He had pretended to change in order to seduce her, and she had fallen for every trick. When he discovered her gone, he wouldn't be surprised. He had clearly told her that it was over, so Quatre obviously hadn't been expecting to find her waiting when he returned.

After she received her ticket, Dorothy was relieved that she would be leaving Barbados within the hour because there was an empty place on the early flight out. As she was waiting, she noticed that Hassan Barak had arrived at the airport. After concluding his business at the ticket counter, he turned towards the concourse where she was waiting. Their eyes met, and he made his way to her where she was waiting to board the plane.

He inclined his head to her. "Miss Catalonia, I see that you are leaving."

"I have nothing to stay for." She was somewhat surprised he spoke her language, then somewhat insulted that he chose not to the evening that he met her on the pier.

Barak nodded. "We will be returning soon to L4 where Quatre has other obligations."

"Then you won't have to worry about my distracting him."

"I was afraid that you may have harbored some hope of a more lasting relationship with Quatre."

"None whatsoever." Dorothy would never admit that the contrary might be true.

"The truth is, his marriage to my daughter was arranged many years ago between his father and myself, so he is not free to commit elsewhere. He has known that for a very long time."

Dorothy didn't know what to say. She had no idea that Quatre was planning to marry another woman. Now she understood why Barak had been so angry when they met at the pier.

The man continued without waiting for a response. "My daughter is a few years younger than him, and I understand that he has a man's needs. But she has come of age and when we return to L4, he will likely marry her and that will be an end to his wild behavior."

She had difficulty meeting his gaze. "I wish him well in his marriage."

Reading through his third technical report on the facility built on X7350, Quatre was starting to feel overwhelmed by the combination of lack of sleep and the excessive data that was swimming before his blurry eyes. He worked through the lunch hour, trying to find any shred of evidence to prove the allegations made by Bill Morley about the satellite, but he could find nothing. About to give up, he noticed an invoice for parts, and calling it up on his screen then printing it, he was just about to study the document when a short knock at the door preceded the entry of Hassan Barak.

"I heard that you were here." His dark eyes strayed to the paper Quatre had taken from the printer.

Quatre felt guilty about keeping his investigation secret. Maybe he wanted to prove that Hassan Barak was involved in illegal activities so that he could make a clean break from both him and his daughter. Then again, he had no reason to suspect Barak. True, they did not agree on every facet of the running of the conglomerate business, but Quatre hadn't seen eye to eye with his father either.

"I have been doing some research." Quatre tucked away the invoice.

Barak's eyes were on the paper that Quatre had slid between other papers. "You must be very busy today. Sadirah has called this office several times and you have not answered, nor have you returned them."

Quatre looked down at the papers, purposely avoiding his eyes. Breakfast had been so strained that Jamila sat silently still as she ate. When Quatre tried to engage her in conversation, she looked to her mother first before responding to his questions with one word answers. Sadirah didn't bother hiding her anger although she said nothing to him, and when Jamila finished her meal and left with the nanny, Quatre took the opportunity to leave for work. If Sadirah had wanted to argue, he didn't give her a chance.

"I have been busy," Quatre told her father now.

Barak came to his desk and dropped a newspaper amongst the papers. The invoice slid off the desk and settled on the floor at Barak's feet. The man did no more than glance at it before nodding to the newspaper. "My daughter wished to discuss that picture with you."

Quatre turned his attention to the newspaper, and he caught his breath when he saw his daughter's image printed in a paper that sold millions of copies. "I...I was not aware..."

"You must realize that Miss Catalonia arranged for this to happen."

Staring at the picture of Dorothy smiling fondly at Jamila, her hand resting lightly on her shoulder, Quatre felt a tug on his heart. "She would never condone this."

"Did she arrange the opportunity?" demanded Barak. He put his hands on the desk and leaned toward Quatre. "The woman is spiteful and vindictive. Have you not heard that with her connections, she has made business very difficult for Randolph Morrison? Preventer agents have seized his financial records, and both his office and home have been searched thoroughly. It was a mistake to become involved with such a woman."

Quatre turned the paper face down so that the picture would not distract him. "If you will recall, Hassan, she left me. If anyone has a reason to seek some type of vengeance, it would be me."

Barak didn't respond because he knew that Quatre was right. Had Quatre left Dorothy, then he might give some credit to Barak's concerns. But Quatre had awakened one morning in Barbados to find Dorothy gone from the bed they shared. She had taken the suitcases she had brought but left behind everything he had purchased for her. The previous day, after meeting with his business partners in Barbados and hammering out a deal that Quatre preferred which wouldn't displace many people to build a resort catering to wealthy visitors, he allowed Barak to talk him into dining with their business associates at a restaurant. Although Quatre had already planned to spend the evening with Dorothy, he didn't refuse.

But during the meal he began to feel dizzy and weak, so Barak offered to drive him home. He had scolded him for spending too much time in the sun, that he was probably suffering from heat stroke. Quatre must have passed out because he didn't remember arriving at the beach house or getting in bed. He didn't come to his senses until the following morning when he found Dorothy gone. Barak brought a doctor to the beach house. The man subsequently prescribed rest and suggested that he stay out of the sun for the remainder of his vacation, pointing out that he was unused to the lack of filtering of the sun's rays on Earth.

A call to the airport confirmed that Dorothy left Barbados on the first flight out. Quatre called the Dermail mansion and left her messages, but she didn't return his calls. Days turned into weeks with no word from her and Quatre had to accept that Dorothy had somehow come to a decision that her future did not include him. He had a hard time reconciling the woman who spoke words of love to him with the woman who had left him without a word and refused to give him an explanation. Quatre wanted to ask her why she had left him, but he wasn't sure he wanted to hear her answer.

"The public relations director has promised to punish those involved," Barak was saying.

That meant that Dorothy was probably going to lose her job. Quatre had nothing more to say on the subject. Sadirah was going to get her satisfaction.

"My daughter told me that you did not return last night."

Quatre didn't meet his gaze. "I did not."

Barak waited for him to say more.

Quatre decided to clear the air. "You must know that Sadirah and I have had some difficulties in our personal relationship."

"Sadirah is very young," explained her father. "Perhaps she had a child and married too young, but if you give her a chance..."

Shaking his head, Quatre looked at Barak. "I don't love Sadirah. I can't imagine spending any more time with her when I love another. You have known all along how I felt about Dorothy Catalonia. I told you in Barbados that I was going to marry her. I don't know why she left me, but my feelings for her haven't changed. I have reason to believe that she feels the same for me."

"She could be toying with you again," pointed out Barak impatiently.

Quatre ignored his remark. "Sadirah doesn't love me, and I don't think she loves my daughter, but I can't in good conscience continue this marriage."

"You will divorce my daughter?" Barak was aghast.

"I will allow her to divorce me, and she may set whatever financial terms she wishes. As far as you are concerned, you will continue on in the same capacity unless you do not feel comfortable working with me." Quatre wasn't sure he wanted Sadirah's father to remain in his position, especially when he was beginning to suspect that Hassan Barak was using the Winner fortune to increase his own power on L4.

"When do you intend to act?" asked Barak. "Will you be discussing this with Sadirah, or will you send an attorney?"

Quatre couldn't imagine doing anything so heartless as sending an attorney to tell Sadirah that she had no choice but to file for a divorce. "I will discuss this with her when I return tonight."

"You will marry Dorothy Catalonia?" Barak picked up the paper that had fallen on the floor. "Maybe you should question her about the operations on X7350."

"What are you suggesting?"

"Randolph Morrison informed me that Miss Catalonia has been supplying Mahmad Al-Jazar with the funding and the technical information to build an army of mobile dolls."

"That is not true!" scoffed Quatre.

"You are very quick to believe a woman who almost killed you, whose family earned its wealth by constructing instruments of war. Your father would be adamantly opposed to marrying such a woman. Can you ignore that? Can you forget that she was involved with the madmen who wished to destroy Earth?" Barak sighed and shook his head regretfully. "I don't want to see your heart broken again, Quatre. And with the political situation as it stands on L4, you have to be very careful with your alliances, both business and personal."

"Am I going to have to tell you to stay out of my life?" asked Quatre with a raised brow.

Barak met his gaze for a moment, and Quatre saw an uncharacteristic spark of defiance, but it quickly disappeared as he lowered his head. "I am sorry that my daughter has displeased you."

"We were not meant to be together. I regret that Jamila will be caught in the middle."

"Indeed." Barak walked out and Quatre noted that he had taken the invoice with him.

Turning his attention back to the computer to print another copy, he was perplexed to find that the system had crashed during his conversation with Sadirah's father. Glancing at the closed door, he considered just how convenient it was.

The problem with the computer extended beyond Quatre's computer into a company wide server problem. With nothing better to do with his time, he decided to return to the hotel suite where he would have the discussion with Sadirah. He wasn't exactly sure how she would handle the news, but considering her lack of real affection for him, he didn't think her heart would be broken. And because he was offering her a blank check to leave him, any suffering would be quickly soothed. Perhaps she would be relieved to see an end to the marriage she didn't seem to want either. As beautiful as she was, she would have no trouble finding a man to replace him if that is what she really wanted.

Entering the hotel lobby, Quatre was instantly aware of a problem when he saw many of his men searching frantically behind furniture, plants, under tables. He might have found it amusing had they not viewed him with white-faced terror. Then he noticed Rashid standing with Heero Yuy and several men wearing Preventer uniforms. Quatre stood rooted to the spot, finding it impossible to move as a premonition swept over him.

Then he heard Sadirah wail and she ran to him and pounded her fists on his chest. "Where have you been?! Why have you not returned my calls?"

Quatre grabbed her wrists and forced her back. "What is happening?" But he knew what was wrong even before he saw the sobbing hotel nanny speaking to the authorities.

Sadirah raised her tear-stained face to him. "She is gone! Jamila is gone! Someone has taken her!"