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She knew it was silly to think Randall wouldn’t show up, that he’d abandon her and leave her on her own here in New York. There was absolutely no reason to believe he wouldn’t be over just as soon as he was done with his errand at Greta Van Horn’s house.
And yet, Joanna had worried the whole time — not because she didn’t trust him, but because she didn’t trust the Van Horn prima. What if he’d gone over there, and she’d detained him somehow? After all, if she was willing to stoop to outright kidnapping, what other tricks might she pull?
But then someone had knocked on her hotel room door, and Joanna had peered through the peephole’s fish-eye glass to see Randall standing out in the corridor. Relief flashed through her, even as she opened the door and let him in. He held a duffle bag i
