"If I'm not going to get it in your will, the very least you can do is let me enjoy it with you now."

"According to the last audit, young lady, you will have a little over thirty-six million coming to you after taxes, after I've allowed myself this small extravagance. I hasten to add that every cent is tied up in a trust fund that not even the most crafty lawyers will ever break. I don't want you handing out my hard -earned loot to one of your bleeding-heart charities." "Papa, you know the money has never interested me. What interests me is coming with you on this crazy jaunt after the elephant.

I came to Africa with you on the understanding that I was to be included in everything. That was our bargain."

"I'll say it one more time, tesoro, my treasure." He only called her by that baby name when he was feeling very affectionate or very exasperated. "You're not coming into Mozambique with us."

"You'd go back on your solemn promise?" she accused.

"Without a qualm," he assured her. "if your safety or happiness was involved."

She jumped up from the canvas camp chair and began to prowl around the tent. He watched her with secret pleasure. Her arms were folded over those pert little breasts, and she was frowning heavily, but the frown left no lines on her smooth plastic skin. In looks she reminded him of the young Sophia Loren, his favorite actress.

Now she stopped beside the camp bed and glared down at him.

"You know I always get my way," she said. "Why don't you make it easier for both of us, and just say I can come."

"I'm sorry, tesoro. You aren't coming."

"all right." She drew a deep breath. "I don't want to do this, Papa, but you leave me no choice. I've begun to understand what this means to you, why you're prepared to pay such a vast sum for a chance to do it, but if I can't go with you, as is my right and my duty, then I'll prevent you from going."

He chuckled again, easily and unconcernedly.

"I'm serious, deadly serious, Papa. Please don't make me do it."

"How can you stop me, little girl?" he asked.

"I can tell Sean Courtney what Dr. Andrews told me."

Riccardo Monterro came to his feet in one lithe swift movement and seized her arms. "What did Andrews tell you?" he asked in a voice as thin and cutting as a razor blade.

"He told me that last November you had a little black spot on your right arm," she said. Instinctively he put his right arm behind his back, but she went on. "It had a pretty name, melanoma, like a girl's name, but it wasn't pretty at all, and you left it too late. He cut it out, but the pathologist graded it Clarke five-that's six months to a year, Papa. That's what he told me."

Riccardo Monterro sat down on the bed and his voice was suddenly very weary.

"When did he tell you?"

"Six weeks ago." She sat down beside him. "That's why I agreed to come to Africa with you. I didn't want to be apart from you for one day of the time we have left. That's why I am coming with you into Mozambique."

"No." He shook his head. "I can't let you."

"Then I'll tell Sean that at any moment it may reach your brain."

She did not have to elaborate. Dr. Andrews had been most graphic as he described the many possible directions the disease could take. If it went to the lungs, it would be death by suffocation, but if it affected the brain or nervous system, it would be either general paralysis or total derangement.

"You wouldn't," he said, shaking his head. "The last thing in my life that I really want. You wouldn't deny it to me?"

"Without a qualm," she said, repeating his own words. "If you refuse me my right to be with you for every one of these last days, and to be with you at the end as is the duty of a loving daughter."

"I can't let you." He let his face sink into the cup of his hands, a gesture of defeat that hurt her. It required all her resolve to keep her tone firm.

"And I can't let you die alone," she replied.

"You don't understand how much I want this thing. It's the last thing in my LIFE. The old bull and I will go together. You don't understand. If you did you wouldn't prevent me."

"I'm not preventing you," she said gently. "I want you to have it-if you'll let me come with you." As she said it, they both became aware of a faint vibration in the air, and together they looked up.

"The Beechcraft," Riccardo murmured. "Sean's on his way back to the airstrip." He glanced at his wristwatch. "He'll be here within the hour."

"And what will you tell him?" Claudia asked. "Will you tell him I'm coming with you?"

"No!" Sean bellowed. "No bloody fear! Forget the idea, Capo.

She can't come, and that's absolutely bloody final!"

"For half a big M, I get to call the shots," Riccardo told him quietly.

"I say she's coming, so she's coming."

They were standing beside the Toyota. Riccardo and Claudia had met Sean as he drove into camp. Sean drew a breath and glared at father and daughter as they stood side by side confronting him. He saw that their expressions were set and determined.