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Page 9
ers. He came out and leaned against the door. "What can I do for you?"
The woman said, "You some kind of super Republican?"
He smiled dubiously. "What do you mean?"
"Karate, tennis, marksmanship? Unless you're the Bionic Man, you have to be rich to be able to afford all this stuff."
"You know what they say about short guys, classic over-achievers."
She picked up the photo of Cyrus in his karate outfit. "Are you dangerous?"
She didn't wear much makeup: a touch of color on the cheeks, a pale lipstick that subdued her hair and eyes. Yet Cyrus thought her most attractive cosmetic was the natural sprinkling of cinnamon-colored freckles across her nose. They fascinated him.
"Dangerous?" he replied. "No, just careful, Miss . . ."
Instead of an answer he got a card pressed into his hand.
Kyna Rand
International Diamond Buyers, Ltd.
"So, Miss Rand, what can I do for you?"
"I'm not sure you can do anything for me."
Cyrus took a warm-up jacket from the coat closet behind the front door and slipped it on, and then let his hand rest on the front doorknob. "Well, when you're sure . . ."
"No," Kyna replied quickly. "What I meant to say wasI don't really know if I need a bodyguard."
Was this where he was supposed to say, With a body like that? But her attitude was beginning to get on his nerves so he just stared and watched her squirm.
"I have this trip coming updiamonds. Did I mention that I deliver diamonds?" Cyrus shook his head. "Anyway, I have to leave in a couple of days and will be gone about two weeks and . . ."
Her voice trailed off.

 
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