Free Satin Doll by Maggie; Davis Page A

such a straight face she couldn’t help giving it right back. “I know, they use the elevator,” she said just as seriously. “I had a ride in it today and I could tell it was haunted.”  
    “Ah, you Americans. You are such cynics, you don’t believe in anything. Look,” he said teasingly, “is this a fake? Bend over. Take a look at this poor fellow’s face.”  
    The crusader’s stone features were handsome. The mouth was sensitive with a nice, clear-cut chin, and his eyes were closed.  
    Sam stared at it for a long moment, frowning. “Good lord, did you bring me down here just to see this?”  
    The sudden hoot of his laughter bounced around the curves of the vault. “Ah, you finally noticed!”  
    The face of the knight looked just like Alain des Baux. Puzzled, Samantha stared at one and then the other. The tombs were real, she believed that much. But what was going on, anyway?  
    “It’s a coincidence.” He was still laughing at the expression on her face. “But of course all Frenchmen look alike, don’t they? Think of Louis Jourdan, Trintignant, Jean-Paul Belmondo, even old Chevalier. It’s the old story. You can’t tell us apart.”  
    “You’re weird, you know that?” Alain des Baux was a practical joker in spite of his magnificent good looks, his perfect manners. It was sort of endearing.  
    “Please, forgive me, I couldn’t resist it,” he chortled. “Quite seriously, there was a purpose in taking you here. This is not a good place to come to by yourself. Since you will have the keys to the building I wanted to show it to you and be with you when you saw it.” He reached into an inner breast pocket and drew out a card and handed it across to her. “I have an office in Paris. This has my Paris telephone number. I own a computer firm in Nîmes, in the south of France. We deal mainly in software for French aerospace programs like Ariane.”  
    The incongruity of Samantha being handed a business card by a computer engineer in the middle of an eleventh-century crypt struck them both at the same time. They smiled, and then as their eyes met and lingered, there was a sudden silence.  
    He left her breathless, Sam was thinking. He was charming, fantastic-looking, and had a crazy sense of humor. At any other time, in any other year of her life, she supposed she would have wondered if something would come of it. You couldn’t miss that look in his eyes. You couldn’t miss the way she was responding to him, either. “Yes, well, thanks, for the card,” she said, looking away.  
    He reached across the stone figure to take her hand. “Say you will have dinner with me,” he murmured. “Please don’t say no. Let me show you what a very good guide I am. Let me show you Paris—the Eiffel Tower, the Champs Élysées, a quick drive in my car down to the Île de la Cité to see Notre Dame. The complete tour, with dinner after.”  
    Sam had drawn her hand back automatically. She knew she had no business making a date with someone like Alain des Baux when she was in love with Jack Storm. “I have a lot of work to do. I don’t think I can.” She held up his card. By the light of the yellow bulb that hung over them, she could only make out the larger print, altacomp, Inc., Computers, and an address in the French city of Nîmes.  
    She looked across the crypt to where Chip was lounging against the wall by the stairs, arms folded across his chest. The light from one bulb hit his black, curly hair and his face harshly. He looked like he was contemplating a burglary job.  
    Alain had followed her look. “He can’t hear us,” he assured her in a low voice. “Does he bother you?”  
    “He doesn’t exactly charm me to death. Just what does he do around here?” she whispered. “Does he stay here at night?”  
    He gave her an odd look. “Not that I know of. He is Solange Doumer’s good friend. You will say yes,” he said hurriedly at the sound of footsteps on the stairs, “that