Behind Closed Doors

“I'm so glad you could make it. Tonight is a special night for us, Mr. Mackey. After seventeen years, I'm finally reunited with my beloved niece. The people who are important to her must celebrate with us.”

“Your niece, huh?” His voice was dangerously thick. He stared into Raine's eyes. They were naturally large and tilted. Accented with cosmetics, and wide with apprehension, they seemed enormous. “Your niece “ he repeated slowly. “That is just... incredible.”

Raine's mouth tightened. A blush raced across her translucent skin.

“Doesn't she look splendid?” Lazar's eyes rested upon her with a proprietary pride that made Seth want to spit. “I liked her better before.”

His voice came out flat and loud. Raine winced, visibly. Tough shit, he told her with his eyes. He was only flesh and blood. If she wanted to poke sharp sticks at him through the bars of his cage, she'd better expect him to snap and growl. “Lazar women tend to be unpredictable,” Lazar said coolly. “You'll get used to it, I expect. If you manage to hold her interest, that is.”

“Victor!” Raine's voice was shocked. Seth locked gazes with the smug, silver-eyed bastard. The red fog was coming over him, his blood was pounding in his ears, loud and heavy. He became aware that Raine was tugging desperately at his arm. “Seth, please,” she pleaded.

“Raine, why don't you take your guest to the bar and get him a nice, relaxing drink?” Victor suggested. “Dinner will be in a quarter of an hour. I'm afraid you missed the hors d’oeuvres, but the dinner itself will be just as excellent Mike Ling is cooking tonight, stolen from the Topaz Pavilion for the night. Pan Asian fusion. I hope you enjoy it”

Seth held out his arm to Raine. “Sounds delicious,” he said, through gritted teeth. “Come on, sweetheart Show me to the bar.”

She took his arm with the tips of her fingers, and they moved silently through the lavish room. He knew he should be paying attention, gathering data, but he was helpless, inert. All he could feel were the tips of her fingers, burning through the fabric of his jacket.

He got himself a beer, got her a glass of champagne, and steered her to a secluded corner by the window. They stared at each other, as if they were afraid of each other.

“You're furious,” she murmured, staring into the champagne.

“Yeah.” He took a swallow of beer. “You've been lying through your teeth ever since you met me. Lying makes me sick.”

“I did not lie to you.”

The cool, righteous tone in her voice jerked an ugly laugh out of him. “Yeah? Peter Marat? “

“That was the only thing that I withheld, and you can hardly blame me. Try to understand, Seth. I've only known you for four days, and I'm doing something that scares me to death—”

“To death, huh?” He picked up her pendant, and she flinched back when his fingertips lingered at the velvet heat of her cleavage. He held it to the light, admiring the flashing colors. “Very pretty,” he commented. “I bet putting this thing around your neck scared you right out of your mind. What did you do to earn it, sweetheart?”

She jerked the opal pendant out of his hands. “Don't be crude. It was my grandmother's.” She stepped back and wrapped the glossy blue shawl across her chest “You're being ugly, and I hate it,” she said in a small, clear voice. “Please stop.”

“I can't.” It was the naked truth. “I'm for real, babe. What you see is what you get. Which is more than you can say for yourself, Raine Cameron Lazar.”

Her cheeks flushed a deeper pink. She lifted bright, defiant eyes to him and drained the rest of her champagne in one long swallow. “We'll talk about this later” she said. “It's almost time for dinner. Can you manage not to make a scene in front of Victor’s guests?”

“What’s it worth to you?” he taunted.

Her lips went white. “Please, Seth.”

There was something haunted and pinched in her face, behind her radiant veil of glamour. It tugged at him, despite his anger. Made him feel like a bastard, kicking a puppy.

“Later,” he muttered.

“The others are going into the dining room. Shall we?”

He bowed and offered her his arm. “At your service.”

He sat down next to her at the table, a fake, tense smile on his face. He finally understood the value of social skills.

They were simple, pure technique to fall back on when you were about to lose it, but could not afford to. Like fighting.

You studied kicks, punches, parries and falls until they were second nature. Then when somebody tried to pound the shit out of you, self-defense was smooth and automatic. Social skills. Kicks and punches. Same damn thing.

Raine had no idea how she managed it. She smiled and spoke in Italian to Sergio, the museum curator on her left, about medieval art; she conversed with the distinguished older man across the table about his consuming interest in collecting historical weapons. She laughed and smiled and chattered social nonsense, all with a seething volcano sitting in the chair next to her. The food was exquisitely prepared, but she didn't remember eating or drinking, although she must have done so.

After the fruit, dessert and coffee, people began to wander into the main room where the showing of Victor's new acquisitions would take place. A buzz of anticipation was rising. Victor strolled over to them and tucked a wisp of hair back up into her coif. With every nerve raw, she clearly sensed Seth's rage roaring up like a flame at Victor's possessive, avuncular gesture, even though he made no overt sign of it.Victor's smile showed that he felt it too, and was amused by it.

“Perhaps you young folks would like to be left to yourselves. I plan to show you my entire collection tomorrow, Raine, so there's no need to bore Mr. Mackey with it. Give him a tour of the house, if you like.”

“A tour of the house sounds fine to me,” Seth cut in, his arm closing around her shoulders. “Great place you've got here. I'd love to see it.”

“Very well, then. Come down for drinks later on, if you care to.” He kissed Raine's cheek, gave Seth a nod, and walked into the hall.

Seth pulled her out the front door. She scurried to keep up with his long strides. “Where are you taking me?” she demanded.

“To my boat”

She pulled back and dug in her heels. “Your boat? I can't just leave, Seth. I have to—”

“My boat is the only sheltered place on this whole island where I can be reasonably certain that our conversation won't be overheard or recorded. If we don't scream at each other, that is. Which at this moment, I can't guarantee.”

“Oh,” she whispered.

It was even colder when they drew near the dark water that lapped against the dock. He helped her onto the boat, steadying her as she teetered on the fragile high heels. She stood in the door of the cabin and watched as he untied the boat and started up the motor.

He took them out into the dark water, twenty, thirty, fifty meters, and cut the motor. She scrambled out of his way as he entered the cabin. His heat began to warm the place the minute he followed her in.

He switched on the lantern that was bolted to the table and did something with a keyboard and monitor attached to fee cabin wall. He turned to her, folding his arms. “OK. We're out of range of any directional mikes Victor could point at us. Let’s hear it.”

She huddled inside her thin stole. “Hear what?”

“Why you broke your promise. Why you didn't tell me what you were doing today?”

She sank down onto the cushion of the bench, and twisted the crumpled blue taffeta of her skirt, organizing her thoughts. “I knew you would be working all morning,” she began slowly. “I didn't want you to worry. And overreact.”

“I see.” He waited.

She closed her eyes against his intense scrutiny, and allowed herself to feel the true depths of her exhaustion. “I wasn't ready to tell you, or any other person that I was Victor Lazar's niece,” she admitted. “I'm very