"You are magnificent, my dear. I’ve admired you from afar for so long,” he whispered, a hand gently exploring my exposed, sweaty flesh. "Tonight, I couldn't resist any longer. You were so lost in your music, in your dance, I had to join you."I turned to finally look at his face. Oh my God. My stalker was Joseph Pierre, the famous star of the New York Ballet. Why is he here with me? What could he want with me?I was so overwhelmed, tears trickled and then flowed down my face. "Please, please don't cry. I am so sorry. I didn't mean to make you cry. I didn't mean for any of this to happen.” He wiped tears from my cheek. “‘I’ve been watching you dance for so long, day after day. You are so beautiful when you dance. You glide through the air, your arms and hands moving with such elegance. And your hair…” he brushed a damp lock off my brow, “follows your moves as if carried by a gentle breeze."There is a joy in your dance, a natural, unspoiled grace. You still have much to learn, but I have. Dag punched numbers in on his television remote control and a wall beside his desk opened, revealing a room bigger than my reception area/office. The room is temperature controlled with a dozen high-power servers, hard drives, laptops, and a safe. It might seem like overkill to have a safe inside the vault, but with a million dollars onsite, you get a little protective. No, it wasn’t cash. I had one hundred $10,000 cash cards, a retainer from Simon after I pulled him and Angel out of Croatia. I’d discovered Dag had other things in the safe as well. There were letters he was holding for his cousin in Finland, for his almost daughter the Hollywood actress, and a list of his accounts in a Swiss Bank. There were also six $100,000 bearer bonds issued by a bank in Mexico City. I wish I knew how he got hold of those! Dag kept a handgun in the safe and I wondered if he’d ever carried it. Now the safe also had the key to a safe deposit box with a potentially priceless piece of jewelry in.
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