coveted this, but I would not allow Peter to give it to her. I did not consider her an appropriate custodian.” He placed the box in Rained hands. “Go on. Open it.”
She lifted the lid, and gasped. It was a fire opal, a teardrop shape, set in gold and a brilliant, milky swirl of tiny diamonds. She moved it in the light, old memories stirring inside her. The pearly smooth surface of the opal flashed in the light, pulsing with blue, green and violet fire.
“I remember this necklace,” she whispered.
“You played with it sitting on your grandmother's lap,” Victor told her. “You were her joy. The necklace is called Dreamchaser.”
“I thought there was a tiny rainbow trapped inside the stone,” Raine said, touching it reverently with her fingertip. “A live rainbow.”
“It's a family heirloom. A gift from your great-greatgrandfather to his bride. At last, it comes to you.”
He clasped it around her neck. The chilly gold of the glittering chain made her shiver. The past was reaching out cold fingers to touch her. It called out in soft, whispering voices, like faraway music.
Victor turned her until she was looking at herself in the mirror. The pendant was the perfect length for the peacock gown. It nestled at her cleavage, sumptuous and elegant. Perfect.
“I don't know what to say,” she stammered.
“Dreamchaser will remind you to look beneath the surface. To seek the passion and fire behind a deceptively plain exterior. Not that you need to be reminded.” Victor laid his hand upon her shoulder. “Please, wear the necklace often. All the time, if you can. It's been waiting for you for years. Your grandmother would be glad that you have this. She would have been proud of your beauty and your intelligence. And your courage.”
She clasped the pendant in her hand. Tears flashed down her cheeks, and she flicked them away, trying not to smudge the makeup. Victor's piercing gaze saw right inside her, all her fears and weaknesses, her hunger for love and approval. It was so hard to resist. No one had ever been proud of her that she could remember. Alix was disapproving and competitive. Hugh, her stepfather, barely knew she existed.
She knew it was a trap—and she almost didn't care. Almost.
Victor kissed her forehead gently and offered her a handkerchief. She dabbed at her eyes and gave him a cautious smile. He smiled back. A smile that saw too much, understood too much. He offered her his arm. “I would be pleased to show you my collection, but there’s no time tonight Perhaps tomorrow. If such things interest you, of course.”
'Thank you, yes. That would be fascinating” she murmured.
“Come, let's take a tour of the house before our guests arrive. Allow me to reacquaint you with your childhood home.”
She reached out and took his arm. Trap or not, lies or not, she couldn't make her scars and fears and needs disappear by sheer force of will. All she could do was to watch them flowing like water, swirling and changing with every instant that went by.
“Yes, please,” she said. “I would love to.”
Chapter 16
Of all scenarios, waltzing into a dinner party at Stone Island as the date of Victor Lazar's long-lost niece was the last one he could have envisioned. Seth tied up at the Stone Island dock, and forced himself to concentrate on arming the custom-modified infrared motion-detector security device on his boat. If anyone came within two meters of the boat in his absence, a device attached to his waistband would vibrate, and a video camera would snap to life, recording everything.
Attention to detail was everything in this kind of work, but he kept staring into space, forgetting where he was, breaking out in muttered profanity. He wanted to confront her, but he was bound by his own secrets. Secrecy had never felt constricting before. It had always felt like power. Now it made him feel helpless and maddened.
Three days ago, he would have crawled naked over broken glass for an opportunity to walk right through Stone Island's wall-of-thorns security. But his mind was reeling, his focus blown. He kept trying to come up with a plan for
tonight, but he couldn't think, couldn't plan. He was going to have to wing it. Look what he was reduced to. Victor Lazar was a fucking genius.
The house was lit up like a Christmas tree. It felt strange to march right up to lie place without sneaking. The flagstone path was lit by strings of ice-white lights draped from tree to tree. He felt exposed, despite the SIG Sauer in the shoulder holster beneath his coat.
A huge fireplace was roaring in the main reception hall. There was a jazz combo in the corner of the room, and a saxophone was crooning. It was filled with people in evening dress. He recognized a local politician out on the terrace, carrying on an animated conversation with a lovely young woman in a short fur jacket. The young woman gulped champagne, threw back her head and laughed. Too bad Connor wasn't here, with his encyclopedic knowledge of the local movers and shakers. All Seth knew was that Victor had all kinds of people in his pocket, the only common denominators being wealth, power, and a secret weakness that Lazar had learned to exploit. Just as he'd done to Seth. He was just as compromised as any of these poor, champagne-guzzling bastards.
“Ah! There he is. Our intrepid security consultant. Come in, come in.” Lazar hurried forward, seized Seth's hand and pumped it heartily. “So glad you came. Raine will be delighted. She despaired of you coming when the last boat arrived.”
“I came in my own boat.”
Victor's eyebrows arched. “Ah. And well you should, if you have the means. Where is that girl? Ah, there she is, chatting with Sergio. My dear! Your guest of honor has arrived!”
But Seth could no longer register what Lazar said. The world disappeared, the air was sucked out of his lungs. All he saw was Raine.
She was a fucking goddess, decked out like that. Supermodel gorgeous, Hollywood gorgeous. Ice princess, big-money, unattainable gorgeous. She'd always been sexy and delicious, even in her frumpy little business suits and hornrimmed glasses. She was adorable in her baggy fleece pyjamas, and she was heart-stopping when she was naked, with her hair rippling right down to her ass.
But he had never imagined her like this. The blue corset thing molded every curve, lifting up her pale breasts and offering them to the eye. Sex goddess and ice princess, rolled into one. Some wickedly expensive looking jewel was nestled between her perfect tits. Her hair was weirdly perfect, swept back in a complicated bun. She was a fairy-tale princess out of his comic book fantasies. She glowed like a star.
He hated it. It made his jaw clench and his dick harden. It made him want to wreck something, punch walls, hurl plates. He wanted to drag her into a corner and rip off her glittering veil of illusions. Remind her that she was his beautiful wild animal, not this remote, perfect being. She was earth and sweat and blood and bone, she was hunger and need and howling at the moon. Just like him. Part of him.
She rushed towards him, with a smile so sweet and welcoming that it made his gut cramp. All she was missing was the fairy wings and the fucking tiara and—he had to get a grip. Right. Now.
“Seth! I'm so glad you—”
“You didn't call.”
His tone stopped her cold. Her eyes went wide and uncertain. “I know. I'm sorry. It was an intense day. I can explain—”
“I just bet you can.”
She recoiled, the welcoming light gone from her eyes, and he hated that, too. People were sensing the tension between them. They were pausing in their conversations and looking over curiously.
Keep it together, Mackey, he told himself. Don't piss on the rug.
“Is something wrong?”
Victor Lazar's smooth, oily tone made Seth's hackles rise.
He choreographed the muscles in his face into a polite smile. “Not at all,” he said, from behind clenched teeth.
