Mistress of the Game

chapter Twenty-One
IT SEEMED TO LEXI THAT THE NEXT YEAR WENT BY IN A blink.

She had a natural flair for real estate. Kate Blackwell always believed that an instinctive feel for a market was worth a hundred MBAs. Lexi agreed. It wasn't Harvard that had given her a nose for business. Business was in her blood. She lived for the high of clinching deals, thriving on stress and tension the way that other people thrived on eight hours' sleep and regular meals. Kruger-Brent's real-estate holdings were enormous and growing all the time. It was such an exciting sector, it was easy to forget that it was just one of hundreds of industries that the company was involved in.

As Max's and Lexi's twenty-fifth birthdays moved ever closer, Kruger-Brent's ten-man board of directors decided that they should both spend some time learning the ropes of all of the company's myriad business areas.

"It's important that you feel intimately familiar with every aspect of the firm." Tristram Harwood addressed his remarks to the two of them, but by this point, both Lexi and Max knew that "you" meant Lexi.

"I daresay you feel you've grown up here and that you know the business inside out. But you might be surprised by just how vast your empire really is."

"Patronizing old fossil," said Max as they left the office.

"He's pathetic," agreed Lexi. "Our empire indeed."

But Tristram Harwood was right. Kruger-Brent was an empire. And Lexi was surprised. Flying back and forth across the globe like a deranged bat, visiting the company offices in India and Russia, Prague and Hong Kong, Dublin and Dubai, it dawned on her that to run Kruger-Brent she must be more than just a brilliant businesswoman. Much more. She must be a stateswoman. A diplomat. A general. She must lead, of course, but she must also delegate. Kruger-Brent was infinitely too huge to be managed by one human being. For the first time, she saw for herself just how important it would be to have a team of people around her whom she trusted implicitly.

August Sandford. He's a pain in the ass, but I trust August.

And Max, of course.

Since Lexi's return from Italy, there had been a sea change in Max. At work, he was helpful, respectful and relaxed. Where once Lexi would have gone to August Sandford with her problems, she now used Max as a sounding board. When she visited a microchip-manufacturing subsidiary in India and found that the managers there could not understand her when she spoke, despite their fluent English, she was mortified.

They looked at me like I had just landed from Mars. Lexi poured her heart out in a late-night e-mail to Max. I felt like such a fool. All these years people have been telling me my speaking voice is fine. But it's bullshit. I obviously sounded like a deaf, slurring freak to these guys.

Max responded calmly. Indian English and American English were not the same thing. They'd probably have looked at him the same way. Lexi should travel with a signing interpreter as well as a regular language interpreter, just in case. No big deal.

It was exactly what Lexi needed to hear.

The sexual tension between them grew daily. Max infuriated Lexi by blowing hot and cold. It was the one element of his character that continued to perplex her. One minute she felt sure he was about to make a move. The next he switched, and started acting all brotherly toward her. Used to men dropping at her feet like flies, Lexi had no idea how to handle Max's hard-to-get routine. She dated other guys - discreetly; now was not the time to reignite the party-girl rumors - but found the sex to be utterly unsatisfying. The thought crossed her mind that she might be in love with her cousin, but she quickly pushed it aside.

I don't have time for love. There's too much to do at Kruger-Brent.

Lexi's world tour opened her eyes to the grievous problems the company was facing. Unquestionably, the biggest issue was size. Kruger-Brent was too big. Under Kate Blackwell's leadership, the firm had swallowed every competitor it came across like Pac-Man, regardless of its fit with the rest of the group's businesses. In the two years before Kate Blackwell's death, Kruger-Brent became the proud owner of a diamond mine in Zaire, a children's book publisher in Scotland, a biotech research firm in Connecticut and a swath of Brazilian rain forest approximately the size of Pennsylvania, to name only four of Kate's scores of acquisitions.

Lexi's great-grandmother had been master of the game of business. But the game had changed.

When I'm chairman, I'll be playing by new rules. We need to be leaner. Fitter. Faster. Or we won't survive.

Lexi knew she wanted to grow the real-estate business. Oil and gas would also be crucial. Her most recent trip to Africa had strengthened her growing belief that the continent, with its wealth of land and natural resources, might well hold the key to Kruger-Brent's future. Just as it had once held the key to its past.

There were fortunes to be made in African land and property. Prices were tripling every year, but most big American firms were losing out, too nervous about the volatile politics and economy to invest in the region. Meanwhile, local conglomerates like the Olam Group and Africa Israel Investments were making out like bandits. In South Africa, what should have been Kruger-Brent's heartland, new companies like Endeavour and Gabriel McGregor's Phoenix were outpacing them, leveraging themselves up to the hilt and audaciously grabbing market share from right under their noses.

Lexi admired Phoenix's brilliantly simple business model. She made a mental note to copy it, then squeeze Gabriel McGregor out of business at the earliest opportunity.

Jamie McGregor built this firm in Africa. He wasn't afraid to take a risk. Nor am I.

The week before Christmas, August Sandford asked Lexi to have lunch with him.

"I never see you these days. Real estate is horribly quiet without you."

Lexi smiled. It was the closest he'd ever come to paying her a compliment. She agreed to lunch the following day.

The concierge at the Harvard Club looked disapprovingly at the group of photographers mobbing Lexi as she emerged from her town car. In a cream cashmere coat from Donna Karan, her famous gray Blackwell eyes covered with oversize Oliver Peoples, she looked every inch the budding tycoon.

"Sorry, John." Lexi smiled. The concierge melted faster than the snowflakes on the sidewalk. "I've been out of town for a few weeks." She nodded toward the paparazzi. "I'm afraid they're worse than usual. Has Mr. Sandford arrived yet?"

"Yes, Ms. Templeton. His usual table."

August watched Lexi as she weaved her way through the other diners toward him. She wore a crisply tailored pantsuit she'd had custom-made in Hong Kong, and looked professional and poised. August thought: She's grown up. Though he'd die rather than let her know it, he'd become genuinely fond of Lexi these past two years. His initial, envy-fueled attraction had been replaced by something worryingly close to friendship. August Sandford had never been friends with a woman before. Perhaps that was why this whole thing felt so awkward?

August was not looking forward to today's lunch. He had things to tell Lexi that he knew she wouldn't want to hear. Things that might make him look foolish in her eyes. Or paranoid. Or jealous. Or all three.

Lexi sat down.

"So what's been going on? What've I missed? Did you close the Hammersman deal yet?"

August grinned. He loved the way she cut straight to the chase.

"We did. Yesterday. How was Africa?"

"Interesting. Hot. The food sucked."

"You missed New York?"

"I missed the office. But don't tell anyone."

They ordered food. Lexi could tell August had something on his mind.

"Was there something you wanted to talk to me about?" She took a bite of her turkey club sandwich. After two weeks of boerewors and Mrs. Ball's chutney washed down with rancid rooibos tea, it tasted like manna from heaven.

August bit his lip. "Have you seen Max since you got back?"

"Not yet. Why?"

"It may be nothing." He paused. "It's just...some of the things he's been doing recently. Are you sure he's given up all hope of the chairmanship?"

Lexi put down her sandwich.

"Of course I'm sure. What's this about, August?"

"I overheard Max in the men's room a few weeks ago. He was talking to Tristram Harwood, claiming credit for selling one of the online gambling businesses."

"Jester. I know. He sold it to KKR."

"Except he didn't." August took a sip of his iced water. "That was never Max's deal. It was Jim Bruton's."

"Was it?"

"Uh-huh. Jim challenged Max about stealing his thunder. Four days later, he was packing up his desk."

Lexi shrugged. "So? Bruton got canned. What do you care? I thought you hated him."

"I do. That's not the point." August tried a different tack. "Max was supposed to be in Switzerland last month, touring pharmaceuticals. As soon as he heard you'd been sent to Africa, he canceled the trip. He's been in New York the whole time you were gone, playing golf with Harwood and Logan Marshall. He even invited me to dinner at the Lowell, then on to Cindy's. I'm telling you, he's been schmoozing big-time."

Lexi felt her chest tighten, but not for the reason August Sandford intended. Cindy's was a strip joint, known for having the most beautiful pole dancers in the city. The thought of Max fondling some seminaked goddess while she was in Africa made her sick with jealousy.

"Did you go? To Cindy's?"

August ran his hand through his hair in frustration. "No. Lexi, I don't think you're hearing me. I think Max is plotting against you behind your back. I think he's up to something."

"You're wrong."

"Am I? What happened in Italy, Lexi? That time that I was supposed to meet you in Florence."

"Nothing happened." Lexi sounded defensive. "You disappeared to Taiwan without bothering to call me. Max was in Italy for some deal or other. We had dinner. Who cares? It was a year ago, for God's sake."

"Taiwan was a setup. There was no meeting. Someone called Karen, my assistant, posing as Mr. Li's secretary. I flew halfway around the world for nothing."

Lexi laughed.

"And you think it was Max? Come on! It's a bit Mission: Impossible, isn't it?"

August was silent for a few moments.

"Lexi," he said at last. "Are you and Max an item?"

The red flush on Lexi's cheeks was as much from anger as embarrassment.

"Excuse me?"

"It's a simple question. Are you sleeping with him?"

Lexi stood up. "In what alternate universe would that possibly be your business?"

Furious, she turned and stormed out of the restaurant.

Who the hell does August Sandford think he is? My father?

August was about to call after her, then remembered that she wouldn't be able to hear him. He got up and followed her into the street.

It was still snowing. Grabbing Lexi by the shoulder, August spun her around to face him. Only then did he realize that they were surrounded by snapping photographers. By this time tomorrow, the gossip columns would no doubt be touting him as Lexi Templeton's new love interest.

"I think you're in love with Max." Having come this far, he might as well get it off his chest. "And I think it's clouding your judgment. He's using you, Lexi."

Click click click.

Angrily, Lexi shrugged off his hand.

"If anyone's judgment is clouded, it's yours. You're jealous. You're jealous because Max and I..."

"What? Max and you what?"

At that moment John, the Harvard Club concierge, scurried out of the club like a groundhog. He forced his way through the knot of paparazzi, carrying Lexi's coat over his arm. Stepping in front of August, he bundled Lexi into it.

"For heaven's sake, Ms. Templeton. Leaving without your coat? You'll freeze."

"Thank you, John."

Grimly, Lexi buttoned the cream wool up to the neck. With a last, furious look at August, she climbed into the back of her town car. The driver sped away, spraying the photographers with filthy, traffic-blackened snow.

Lexi stared through the smoked-glass windows, trying to collect her thoughts.

"Back to the office, miss?"

"Not yet, Wilfred. If you wouldn't mind just driving around for a little bit."

Damn August and his stupid suspicions! What does he know? She ran through everything he'd told her again. Max and Jim Bruton had fallen out over a deal. So what? It happened all the time. Max canceled a trip to Europe. That could have been for any number of reasons. Max was playing golf with board members. Hardly a hanging offense. Admittedly the Taiwan thing was weird. But Lexi was sure there must be a perfectly rational explanation.

What she wasn't sure about was why she couldn't shake the feeling of unease lurking in the pit of her stomach.

She still felt sick that evening when she got home to her apartment. Normally cooking and watching close-captioned reruns of Friends helped her to destress, but tonight nothing was working.

Changing into her pajamas and settling down on the couch with a family-size tub of Phish Food ice cream, Lexi decided to call her brother. Robbie always helped her put things into perspective, and for once he was actually in her time zone, playing a bunch of concerts in Pittsburgh. Thanks to Lexi's new Geemarc screen phone, a brilliant invention that enabled her to speak normally into the telephone then have the other person's speech translated into text in front of her, she was gradually starting to escape the tyranny of e-mail. (Kruger-Brent had made a bid for Geemarc last year but lost out to a German rival. The next morning Lexi had her broker buy as much of the acquirer's stock as he could get hold of. Today those shares were worth three times what she paid and were still rising.)

There was no answer in Robbie's hotel room. He must have left for the Mellon concert hall already.

Maybe I should call Max directly? Talk to him about this stuff. But there was no way she could do that without landing August in the shit. As angry as she was with August, the last thing Lexi wanted was to have him and Max getting into some sort of office feud. They're the two people at Kruger-Brent I trust the most. I'll need them both on my side when I become chairman.

A red light flashed on the wall above the TV. Someone was downstairs. Flicking on the video screen by the front door, Lexi saw a male figure, shoulders hunched against the wind. When she saw who it was, she smiled.

He never comes to the apartment. I wonder what he wants at this time of night?

Buzzing him up, she dashed into the bathroom and brushed some bronzer onto her cheeks. Africa had been roasting, but Lexi's schedule had left her precious little time to tan. Traveling always made her look drained and washed out. In her hurry, she managed to spill bronzing powder all over the bathroom floor. She was still on her hands and knees cleaning up when Max walked in.

"Jesus, what happened in here? A sandstorm?"

Lexi stood up and kissed him on the cheek.

"I wasn't expecting you."

"I know. I was on my way home from dinner and I thought I'd stop in. But look, if you're too tired..."

"No, no. It's fine." In a thick cable-knit sweater and jeans, he looked even more handsome than usual. August's words floated back to Lexi. I think you're in love with him.

"Drink?"

"I'll have a Scotch, thanks."

She went into the kitchen to fix it for him. A few moments later, she jumped out of her skin. Creeping up behind her, Max slipped two cold hands around her waist. Then, so gently Lexi could barely feel it, he dropped a kiss on the bare skin on the back of her neck.

Okay. Now, that's a move. Surely that counts as a move?

Or does the neck thing make it brotherly?

Crap.

She turned. Max was looking at her, his predatory eyes wandering over her features, as if seeing them for the first time.

"You had lunch with August Sandford today."

How did he know that?

"Yes."

"Did he make a move on you?"

Lexi was so surprised, she burst out laughing.

"Is that a yes?" Max asked angrily.

"No, it's not a yes! It's a no. Of course he didn't make a move. August doesn't think of me like that."

"Sure he thinks of you like that. Every man on earth thinks of you like that."

Max took Lexi's face in his hands and drew her toward him. Suddenly his lips were pressing hard against her own and his tongue was in her mouth, eager, hungry. Then, just as suddenly, he pulled away. He looked angry.

"I don't want you having lunch with him again."

Lexi bridled. "Now wait just a minute. I don't know where you think you get off telling me who I may or may not have lunch with. But if - "

Another kiss. This time Max's icy hands slipped under Lexi's shirt, grabbing hungrily at her breasts. All Lexi's feminist instincts told her to push him away. But her groin seemed to have missed the Germaine Greer lecture. Instead of showing him curtly to the door, Lexi found herself pulling Max's sweater over his head and fumbling for the belt buckle on his jeans.

Oh God. What was it August said about clouded judgment?

"I thought you weren't attracted to me," she murmured.

"You thought wrong."

Yanking off Lexi's pajama bottoms, Max carried her into the bedroom. Clothes from her Africa trip littered the bed, but Max didn't bother to move them. Throwing her down on top of the mess, he spread her legs, bent his head low, and began to lick her, his tongue darting like an eel into the slippery wetness between her thighs. Lexi moaned. She felt her muscles tense and her back start to arch. Wriggling helplessly, she tried to move his head away. I mustn't come too quickly. I mustn't let him know how long I've wanted him. But it was no use. Lexi seemed to have no control over her body whatsoever. She bucked wildly as waves of pleasure coursed through her.

The instant her orgasm was over, Max pulled off his pants and crawled up the bed so that his face was over hers. Lexi looked into his eyes. She expected to see excitement, arousal, joy. Instead she found herself gazing into two bottomless black pools of...nothing. She felt a momentary stab of fear.

You aren't Max. You're a stranger. Who are you?

It was a fear tinged with excitement. Even in the days when she'd convinced herself she hated him, Lexi recognized something wild and animalistic in Max. Something dangerous. It was the part of him she had always secretly wanted to possess, to unleash. Now she was about to unleash it. She could barely breathe.

Max felt her trying to read him, trying to gauge who he really was. He flipped her onto her stomach so she couldn't see his face. Then he entered her from behind, his huge penis filling her completely, satisfying her at last.

Lexi gasped with pleasure,

This is it. This is what sex is supposed to feel like.

Soon she was aware of nothing but the incredible sensations ripping through her body.

Max, too, was lost in the moment. He tried to hold himself back, but it was impossible. Lexi's breasts felt like his mother's breasts. Her hair, her skin, reeked of Eve. He was doing this for his mother. It was all for Eve. And yet Max felt unfaithful, dirty, pounding away like an animal on his cousin's bare back.

It shouldn't feel so good. Not with Lexi. Max hated Lexi.

I hate you.

Max came, screaming his mother's name.

Unable to see his face, Lexi couldn't hear him.

Lexi's affair with Max was like a child's secret treasure: too precious to be shown to others. When Lexi was a little girl, she'd had a beautiful antique box that she used to fill with special "nature things" - a bird's egg that had fallen from a nest and landed, unbroken, on the lawn at Dark Harbor; a rabbit's skull with bones worn so white that they glowed in the dark. If she could, she would have hidden Max's love in that box. Taken it out at night when she was alone, like the rabbit's skull, and gazed at it in wonder. The fact that no one at work knew they were together only added to the thrill of the relationship.

Max said: "We're cousins. And colleagues. People wouldn't understand."

Lexi agreed. One day soon, she would be Max's boss. Everyone's boss. Discretion at Kruger-Brent was vital.

"People" would have understood even less had they been flies on the wall observing Max and Lexi's love life. Since losing her virginity at sixteen, Lexi had been on a sexual mission, determined not to let her childhood abuse blunt her adult libido. She'd been so busy proving her sexuality, so busy showing lover after lover how much she enjoyed sex and how in control she was, she'd never stopped to figure out what it was that she actually wanted.

Max was the answer to all the questions Lexi had never asked. Not only did his sex drive match her own, but he made love with a violent desperation that left her breathless and begging for more. She never imagined she could enjoy being dominated in bed. In life, in the boardroom, she was Mistress of the Game. But Max opened the door to another side of her psyche. The games were gentle at first: he held her hands down on the bed or lightly tapped her butt during sex. But as Lexi's responses intensified, Max pushed further and further into full-blown S&M - sodomy, bondage, humiliation - nothing was off-limits. Lexi felt liberated. At home, in bed with Max, she could throw off the armor that she wore all day at Kruger-Brent, the same armor she'd worn at business school and with the media, the same armor she'd been wearing all her life. The armor that said: Yes, I'm deaf and I'm a woman. But don't think you can f*ck with me. With Max, she could finally be herself. Real, vulnerable, unguarded.

It was the best feeling in the world.

The only downside to the relationship was that they didn't spend enough time together. Lexi, especially, still had an insane travel schedule. And Max was up to his neck in Kruger-Brent politics at home.

Max told her, "It'll be better when you're chairman. You'll be in New York more. We'll have control over our own schedules."

Lexi could hardly wait.

Eve asked Max: "Have you found anything yet? There must be something you can use against her."

"Not yet, Mother. I'm working on it."

"Well, work faster. You're wasting too much time screwing her, aren't you?"

"No."

"Yes, you are. You're too busy enjoying yourself to remember who Lexi is. She's your enemy, Max. She's trying to steal from us. Time is running out."

"I know." Max hated disappointing his mother. He was also afraid Eve might be right. Sometimes, when Lexi screamed and writhed and moaned beneath him, he could almost believe that he did love her. That he'd forgotten why he had seduced her in the first place. Forgotten that this was all a game. A game in which the winner got to keep the greatest prize of all: Kruger-Brent.

Eve reminded him in no uncertain terms.

"You know what to do, Max. F*ck her. Fool her. Finish her."

Max nodded grimly.

He knew what to do.

Lexi lay back and tried to slow her breathing.

Dr. Cheung said: "Don't be nervous. Think of it as a flu shot."

Right. A flu shot that might give me back my hearing.

Lexi never imagined that hope could be so painful. Ever since Max told her about Dr. Cheung and the pioneering work he was doing with gene therapy, she'd been unable to sleep. It was like meeting a psychic who claimed to be able to contact your lost loved ones from beyond the grave. You want to believe it. But to do so means ripping open old wounds. Lexi had long since accepted the fact that she would never hear again.

Then Max casually passed her the New Scientist over breakfast one morning and blew her world apart.

"Look at this. Some guy in China's found a gene that makes deaf guinea pigs get their hearing back."

Lexi read the piece. The gene was called Math1. Dr. Cheung had developed a genetically engineered adenovirus containing the gene and injected it into the cochlea of deaf guinea pigs. Incredibly, the hair cells of the animal's inner ear had begun to regrow. Eighty percent of the sample recovered full hearing in a matter of weeks.

She passed the magazine back to Max. "He's never tried it on humans. Scientists are always coming up with these so-called breakthroughs. It won't work."

"Says here he started human trials last month. Aren't you even curious to meet him?"

"No."

"He comes to New York regularly."

"I said no, Max, okay? I don't have time to meet with some Chinese whack job."

Lexi pressed a Band-Aid onto her arm. "How long does it take? To feel the effects?"

"It depends. I've had patients start hair regrowth almost immediately. For others, it can be weeks, or even months. You may need a second shot. Can you check back with me in two weeks?"

Dr. Cheung was almost as nervous as Lexi. If the therapy was successful with such a high-profile patient, he would be set for life. If it failed, he could wave good-bye to his funding, not to mention his medical reputation.

"It's important to rest as much as you can, especially during the first week. This is an immense change for your body."

"I'm afraid that's impossible." Lexi gathered up her purse. "I'm due to assume the chairmanship in a month. There's so much to do at Kruger-Brent."

Dr. Cheung tried not to sound panicked. "Ms. Templeton. You must rest. This is your hearing we're talking about. Even if you were to look at it purely from a business perspective, I think you'll agree it's an investment worth making."

Max said the same thing.

"Go to Dark Harbor. See your dad. It might be the last chance you get to take a vacation. Once you're chairman, you'll never get away."

Reluctantly, Lexi agreed. But on one condition. "Promise me you won't tell anyone about the treatment? I don't want to raise expectations. Not until the outcome is certain."

Max took her in his arms and kissed her.

"I promise. Now, for heaven's sake, get out of here. Go get some rest while you still can."

"So did you hear? Santa Claus just landed his sleigh at Grindle Point Lighthouse."

Robbie Templeton sat in a coffee shop in Dark Harbor, across the table from his sister.

"Grindle Point? Wow."

Lexi read Robbie's lips, but her thoughts were miles away. Dr. Cheung had said it could take weeks for her hearing to begin to return. He also said that twenty percent of the study had no reaction to Math1.

Robbie continued. "The fat man's planning to take over the galaxy using the lighthouse as his base."

"Right."

"Rudolph's in charge of the first attack wave. After that, the whole show's wide open. It could be Donner. Blitzen. Any one of those guys."

"I see. Brilliant."

Robbie reached across the table and pinched Lexi's arm, hard.

"Ow! What'd you do that for?"

"I've been trying to get your attention for the last fifteen minutes. You haven't taken in a single word I've said. I might as well go back to Paris and be done with it."

"Sorry."

This trip to visit their father was the first time brother and sister had spent real time together in over five years. Robbie was a huge star now, filling concert halls and stadiums all around the world. Finding a window in his schedule was like winning the lottery. But as much as Lexi delighted in his company, it was hard to keep her mind off her hearing. Or rather the lack of it. She was also itching to get back to Kruger-Brent.

How am I supposed to rest when my mind is racing?

"You think Dad would be super upset if I flew back to New York early?"

Robbie frowned. "I don't know. I would be. What's the rush?"

He was worried about Lexi. She'd lost a ton of weight since he'd last seen her, presumably from stress. Nothing could dim her luminous beauty, but to his brotherly eyes, she looked gaunt and more tired than he'd ever seen her.

Lexi looked at him and wondered when it was, exactly, that they'd grown so far apart. She still loved Robbie dearly. But whereas once he'd understood her, almost like a second self, now he asked her questions that made no sense to her at all.

What's the rush?

How could she answer that? What did it even mean? Business is the rush. It's the life in my veins. I may never hear again. But I'll always have Kruger-Brent.

Max would have understood.

Tristram Harwood looked at the screen in front of him. With each new image, his rheumy seventy-year-old eyes widened. The speakerphone was still on.

"You see the scale of the problem, Tris?"

Kruger-Brent's CEO said grimly: "I do. Is there any way...can this be contained?"

The voice on the speakerphone laughed.

"Contained? It's all over the Internet! In a few hours, those pictures'll be on Fox News and our stock'll fall through the floor. You need to make a statement."

Tristram Harwood hung up.

He'd spent three years "minding the store" at Kruger-Brent. Three peaceful, scandal-free years. And now, in his very last week...

"Stupid girl," he muttered under his breath. "Stupid, stupid girl."

Cedar Hill House had been Kate Blackwell's dream home, an oasis of tranquillity in her turbulent life. The views were spectacular, the decor comfortable, welcoming and peaceful. The house had once held too many painful memories for Peter Templeton. But as he grew older, and his children became adults, he found himself increasingly drawn to the place. Kate had come here to escape the world. When he retired, he decided, he would do the same.

He made a few crucial changes. There was no longer a television in the house, or a phone. If one was going to escape the world, one might as well do it properly. A single, ancient desktop computer squatted on Peter's desk, but it remained unplugged.

Robbie enjoyed the feeling of being cut off. It helped him relax. Lexi loathed it.

Thanks to Peter's communications phobia, Lexi didn't receive August Sandford's e-mail till almost eight o'clock at night. She was strolling down by the water with Robbie when her BlackBerry suddenly and unexpectedly buzzed into life. It kept on buzzing.

Seventy-seven new messages.

The one from August had so many red exclamation points attached to it she opened it first.

Robbie saw the blood drain from her face.

"What? What is it?"

"I have to get back to the city. Right now. I need a plane." Lexi was texting as she spoke, her thumbs working at lightning speed.

"It's eight o'clock at night, sweetie. It's too late to - "

"GET ME A PLANE!"

"All right. All right," said Robbie. "I'll see what I can do."

Kennedy airport was swarming with reporters.

Vultures, come to eat me alive.

"Lexi, have you seen the pictures?"

"When were they taken?"

"Will you step down from Kruger-Brent?"

"Do you have any idea who posted the images on the Net?"

Yes, I have an idea. I know who. I know why. I know when.

But none of that is going to help me.

The Kruger-Brent boardroom was built in the round. Perched like a squat, circular turret on top of the Park Avenue building, it afforded phenomenal views of Manhattan, Central Park and the East River. In its center was a round mahogany table, large enough to seat thirty people. Today, twenty chairs had been positioned around it: fifteen for the board, including Tristram Harwood. Three for Kruger-Brent's most senior attorneys. And one each for Lexi and Max.

Nineteen of the chairs were filled. It was five o'clock in the morning.

"Where is she? After everything she's put this company through, the least she can do is show up on time."

Logan Marshall, the oldest serving board member, made no attempt to mask his irritation. Glancing around the table, it was clear that his colleagues echoed his sour mood. When the markets opened later this morning, they could each expect to see as much as a third of their net worth go up in smoke. There was only one person to blame.

"I'm here, I'm here. We can start."

In a pale peach pencil skirt and cream Marc Jacobs jacket, teamed with heels so high they looked more like launching gear than footwear, Lexi had dressed to kill. August Sandford thought: She's not giving up without a fight. But she can't win. Not this time. He flashed her an encouraging smile, but Lexi was too psyched up to return it. She launched into her pre-prepared speech:

"First of all, I would like to apologize to all of you for putting you - putting us - in this position."

Silence.

"Obviously our key concern this morning is our stock price. My view is that before we make any other decisions, we need to act now to limit the damage and reassure our shareholders."

Silence.

Lexi plowed on.

"My first thought on seeing these pictures was to resign immediately." August heard the mutterings of "hear, hear." Mercifully, Lexi didn't. "But we all know that sudden and unexpected management change is the last thing likely to restore investor confidence. Our stock has risen steadily for the last six months on the expectation that I would take over as chairman next month. I don't believe that me throwing myself on my sword is going to help us."

Logan Marshall whispered to August: "Pity she didn't think of that before she threw herself on all those college boys' swords at Harvard. And on film, too. What was she thinking?"

"I disagree."

Max got to his feet. He looked confident, poised and rested. Lexi thought: How the hell does he manage to look so beautiful at five o'clock in the morning?

"Let's look at what we're dealing with, shall we?" Max pulled a remote control from his pocket. A second later, a screen descended from the ceiling. On it was an image of Lexi, naked and on her knees, giving oral sex to a faceless man while two other men looked on.

August Sandford objected: "Is this really necessary? We've all seen the pictures."

"Yes, and we've had a whole weekend to digest them," said Max. "Think about our shareholders, waking up this morning and looking at that for the first time."

He jabbed at the button on his remote. Another picture: Lexi snorting cocaine. And another. And another. They'd all been taken at the same party, during freshman week at Harvard. The "friend" who took them had been persuaded years before (with the help of a fat check) to hand the chip from his digital camera over to Lexi. She should have destroyed it at the time. But some crazy impulse made her keep it, locked away in the safe at her apartment. A reminder of the "Party Girl Lexi" she had left behind, the old, promiscuous self she had shed like a snake's skin since falling in love with Max.

Falling in love.

Only one another person knew the code to that safe.

Max was still talking. He made eye contact with each board member in turn. When he came to Lexi, he looked through her as if she were a ghost.

No wonder you were so anxious to ship me off to Dark Harbor. How long have you been planning this, you bastard?

"It's not only our shareholders. We have to think about the damage this can do to Kruger-Brent internally. I've already had e-mails from the heads of the Dubai, Kuwait and Delhi offices, all threatening to quit if Lexi becomes chairman. Tristram, have you gotten any calls?"

Tristram Harwood nodded grimly. America might be prepared to forgive its favorite daughter her youthful indiscretions. But Kruger-Brent operated all over the world, in Muslim and Hindu countries. Having a woman chairman, a deaf woman chairman, was bad enough. But this sort of stigma? It would cripple them.

Lexi sat and watched in silence while the men around her debated her future. Only it wasn't a debate. It was a show trial. The verdict, guilty, had been decided before she ever walked into the room.

Of course it was Max who had betrayed her. He'd played her, just like August said he would. Images of their lovemaking, the wild, pagan passion of the last six months, swept unbidden through Lexi's mind. Was it all just a game to him? Part of his battle plan? It must have been. And yet his desire, his love for her, felt so real.

She weighed her options:

I could tell them. I could tell the board it was Max who stole those pictures and made them public. Max who precipitated this crisis. Max who got us all into this mess.

But even as she thought it, Lexi knew she would never do that. The market had already lost its faith in her. Kruger-Brent's share price would plunge this morning as a result. If Max's name was tarnished, too, investors would have nothing to cling to. The company would fall out of Blackwell-family hands. It might even collapse altogether.

Kruger-Brent was the one great love of Lexi's life. She could not allow it to go under.

She looked at Max. That's what you were counting on, wasn't it? You knew I wouldn't turn you in. You knew I love this company too much.

She hated him for what he'd done to her. But she hated him even more for what he'd done to Kruger-Brent. To secure the chairmanship for himself, he'd put the entire firm in jeopardy.

Lexi got to her feet.

"Enough."

She held up a hand for silence. The muttering ceased.

"It's clear that you all feel the same way. Therefore, for the good of the company, I will withdraw my name from the chairmanship ballot. I will formally resign from Kruger-Brent this afternoon."

The attorneys' shoulders slumped visibly with relief.

Max opened his mouth to speak. But when he looked into Lexi's eyes, the words died on his lips. The things he wanted to say meant nothing now: I'm sorry. I still love you. He'd had to destroy her in order to win Kruger-Brent for Eve. It was his destiny, his life's purpose. He'd had no choice. One day, he hoped, Lexi would see that. She would understand.

With a quiet dignity that made August Sandford want to cry, Lexi gathered up her briefcase, turned and left the room.

"Good luck, Max."

Lexi waited for the elevator doors to close before unclenching her fists. Blood dripped from her palms from where she had dug her own fingernails into the flesh.

Good luck, Max.

Good luck, Judas, you treacherous son of a bitch.

Her Bible studies came back to her.

"And Jesus said, 'I tell you solemnly, one of you will betray me. But woe to that man, the betrayer! It would be better for that man if he had never been born.'"

Lexi was going to make Max wish that he had never been born.

Her cousin had won the battle.

But the war had only just begun.