Читать книгу The Highest Bidder - Maureen Child - Страница 19

Three nights later, Vance found Charlie on the terrace in the moonlight. Even in his too-big T-shirt that she’d been wearing to sleep in, she looked like a pagan goddess, standing in front of a bank of flowers with the star-filled sky and moon above her.

That wonderful hair of hers hung loose to the middle of her back and the breeze sliding over the Plexiglas wall lifted long blond strands into a dance around her head.

Her gaze was locked on the river, with the city reflected on the water in brilliant, wavering slashes of light and color. She was so still, so quiet, so entranced at staring out at the view, she wasn’t even aware of him. So Vance had time to get control of the raging emotions rushing through him. Just minutes ago, he’d awakened, reached out for her in their bed and found her gone. For one heart-stopping second, fear had closed his throat before he’d realized that she’d probably gotten up to check on Jake. So he had, too. He’d found the baby sleeping peacefully, curled up into a ball—but Vance had had to search out the baby’s mother.

Finding her here, in the moonlit darkness, shifted something elemental inside him. It was bigger, deeper than anything he had ever known.

Was this love?

God, he hadn’t even mentally jerked back from that word. Which just went to prove how far gone he was. His whole life, he’d never seen love last. People in his family didn’t stay married. His parents had split up when he was just a kid. Even his friends fell in and out of “love” with regularity, so it was never something Vance had had any faith in.

It was a word he’d never used with a woman because he didn’t want to say what he didn’t—couldn’t—feel.

But now, with Charlie … All right, he was the first to admit that he didn’t know jack about love. But he did know that this woman and her child had carved a place for themselves in his heart. That was saying something, wasn’t it?

She turned her head to smile at him and his breath caught in his lungs. Her eyes shone and the curve of her mouth was irresistible to him. Everything about her was. And with that thought came the realization that he was in so deep now, he didn’t think he’d ever find his way out.

“What’re you doing out here?” He stepped through the sliding-glass door onto the tiled floor of the terrace.

“I woke up,” she said with a shrug. “I checked on Jake, then it was such a nice night, I came out here to do some thinking.”

“Always dangerous when a clever woman starts thinking,” he said, walking toward her. He came up behind her, wrapped his arms around her middle and let her lean back into him.

Since the end of the threat against her, Charlie had been … thoughtful. She was sad about Henry’s death, but relieved that her son was safe. But there was more she wasn’t saying, Vance knew. And that bothered him more than he wanted to admit.

She laid her hands on his arms and her head against his chest. And Vance felt … complete.

“Want to tell me what you’ve been thinking about?”

Her fingers stroked the skin of his arms with a gentle touch. “That it’s time Jake and I went home.”

He took a breath and held it. He wasn’t even sure his heart was still beating. “Home? Why?”

She turned in his arms then and looked up at him, shaking her hair back from her face. “Because we don’t belong here, Vance. You’ve been wonderful. Helped us when we needed it. Helped me. But this was never supposed to be permanent, right?”

No, no one had said anything about permanent. But they hadn’t put a time limit on it, either. Frowning, he swallowed hard and instead of answering her question, asked one of his own. “What’s the rush? You’ve been happy here. Jake and I get along great—”

“You do,” she said wistfully. “But I have to go back to my life, Vance.” She took a moment and looked around the terrace, the view and even the sky above. “As beautiful as all of this is, it isn’t my home.”

“It could be.”

“Vance—”

“I’m just saying.” Hell, he didn’t know what he was saying. All he knew was that her talking about leaving had blown a hole through his insides. Even his heartbeat was ragged. “Stay a while, at least. Let’s enjoy each other without the threat of doom hanging over our heads.”

She smiled sadly. “That won’t change anything.”

“Why does it have to?” He let her go, took a step or two away, then turned back to face her again. “Do we have to classify this—whatever it is—between us? Why can’t we just go on the way we have been?”

“Because it’s not just me, Vance.” She didn’t sound angry. Just sad. “I have to think about Jake, too.”

“I am thinking about Jake,” he argued and didn’t care for the sound of desperation in his voice. “He’s happy here. He likes his room. He likes me.”

“Too much,” she said and those two words jabbed at him.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means he’s getting more aware every day. It means I heard him say ‘Dada’ this morning when you were feeding him his oatmeal.”

Yeah, Vance thought, remembering the little boy’s delight at mastering another word. Remembering also how happy he’d been when the boy reached out for him and said that word.

“If I don’t leave, he’ll start believing you are his father and then taking him away later will just hurt him that much more.”

“Why now?” Vance demanded, rubbing one hand against the ache that was dead center in his chest. “Why all of a sudden the talk of leaving?”

She pushed her hair back with one hand as the wind tossed it across her eyes. “It’s not all of a sudden. Ever since Henry … died, I’ve known I had to leave. You have, too, Vance. You just don’t want to admit it.”

“Ah,” he said tightly, “now you’re a mind reader.”

“Nothing so fabulous,” she countered. “But I recognize reality when it’s right in front of me.”

Vance’s brain was racing even as his heart seemed to be slowing down into a sluggish rhythm. She was wrong. He hadn’t even considered Charlie and Jake leaving. He’d gotten used to having them there. To tripping on the baby’s toys in the darkness. To the smell of oatmeal in the morning and, mostly, to the feel of Charlie, nestled in his arms every night.

He hadn’t been thinking beyond getting rid of the threat to her. Now he could see that freeing Charlie meant—freeing Charlie.

Without a reason to stay, of course she would want to take her son back to their apartment. So all of them could get back to their lives. No more watching baseball games with Jake on his lap. No more glasses of wine with Charlie before dinner. No more laughter. No more anything. He would have his privacy again. The quiet of an empty penthouse. He’d see Charlie at work and this—whatever it was—between them would eventually shrivel and die.

That was what should happen, wasn’t it? He’d never meant for any of this to last. He’d only begun this thing to save Waverly’s, right? He looked at her now and felt everything in him go cold and still. Life without her sounded bleak. How the hell was he supposed to give her up?

“Vance?”

Flowers scented the warm air. They were high enough above the city lights that the stars were clear in the black sky. And the moonlight—God, she was made for moonlight—poured down over her like magic.

He didn’t want to talk. Didn’t want to think. He wanted to feel what he only felt with Charlie. He wanted to lose himself in her. And wasn’t that a sort of answer to her question?

He crossed the terrace to her, grabbed her hard and pulled her tight against him.

“No more talking,” he muttered, “and no leaving. Not yet. Okay?”

Charlie looked up at him and nodded. “Not yet. Okay.”

A stay of execution was all he could think of before he claimed her mouth in a soul-searing kiss that left him staggered and hungry for all of her.

In seconds, he had the hem of her nightshirt lifted, scraping it up along her luscious body, and then off and over her head. Moonlight kissed her skin and then he was doing the same. Lavishing attention on every square inch of her body, he turned her, laid her down on the cushioned chaise nearby and in the darkness heard her gasp of pleasure. “Vance—”

As his mouth covered the very heart of her and he felt her tremble, he thought, This is what matters. Before shutting his mind down and reveling in the glory of Charlie, he told himself that what they shared together wasn’t just important. It was everything.

Ann Richardson presided over the board meeting at Waverly’s the following morning. Standing at the head of the conference table, she looked at each member of the board for a moment or two before finally settling her gaze on Vance.

“Thanks to Vance,” she said with a regal nod of her head, “we managed to stop at least one threat against Waverly’s.”

“Never could trust a Rothschild,” George muttered darkly and Veronica shushed him.

“Dalton’s issued a press release denying any knowledge of what Henry Boyle was up to,” Vance put in, giving George a quick look.

The old man snorted. “Dalton knows everything that goes on in his house. You can take that to the bank. Dalton’s got two assistants. Henry was one of ‘em. You really believe that fool came up with this plan on his own? I don’t think so.”

“Neither do I,” Vance agreed. Dalton was no doubt behind the attempt at gaining information. But they’d have a hell of a time trying to prove it. He looked over at Ann, who nodded again. “I think all of us are on the same page there, George. But the bottom line is that Dalton’s denied it and the police have found nothing tying him to Henry’s plan.”

“Your assistant doesn’t know anything more?” Edwina’s voice sounded soft, concerned.

“No, she doesn’t,” Vance said. “She’s simply relieved that the threat is over.”

“As are we all,” Simon piped up from his seat, slapping one arthritic hand against the table for emphasis.

“The problem,” Ann put in, silencing everyone with her cool voice, “is that we can’t be sure the threat is over.” She waved away George’s objections before he could start speaking again. “Yes, of course, this particular incident is over. But that doesn’t mean that Dalton Rothschild will quit trying to take us down. We all have to remain alert. Aware of what’s going on in the house.” She looked at each of them in turn again. “We can’t trust anyone,” she said softly.

Vance knew she was right, but he was glad he and Charlie had already passed through their test of fire. He knew he could trust her with his life. Now if he could just bring himself to trust her with his heart …

“We have to stay together on this,” Ann was saying. “A team. To protect Waverly’s.”

“Of course, dear,” Veronica said, softly applauding Ann’s words. “You know you have our full support. Isn’t that right, George?”

The older man nodded grudgingly. “Yes, yes. We’re all a team. Rah, rah. Can we stop talking about Dalton Rothschild now? You’re giving me indigestion.”

Vance smothered a laugh and Ann rolled her eyes. “Very well,” she said, “if we’ve finished with the Rothschild portion of the meeting, I have an announcement to make.”

“Better news I hope, dear,” Edwina said.

“Much better.” Ann gave them all a wide smile. “You all know Macy Tarlington?”

George harrumphed. “Knew her mother,” he said with a knowing wink. “Tina Tarlington. Now that was a woman. Hell of an actress, too.”

“Her daughter hasn’t done as well, has she?” Veronica asked no one in particular.

“Hell, no,” George said. “Not a shadow of Tina.”

Tina Tarlington had been a rare beauty who’d died recently at the relatively young age of sixty-two. Famous all over the world, Tina was as much known for her three marriages and her collection of diamonds as she was for her acting skills.

Vance gave Ann a shrewd look. “You got it?”

“I got it,” she said and practically crowed with delight. Then, to the rest of the board, she said, “I’ve convinced Macy Tarlington, after much wining and dining, to allow Waverly’s to conduct her late mother’s estate sale. Tina’s jewelry collection alone will make the sale a not-to-be-missed event.”

Vance only half listened to the congratulations and the rife speculation on what might be included in Tina’s collection of mementos. Smiling to himself, he took his first easy breath in a couple of weeks.

The threat to Charlie was gone. It looked like Waverly’s was going to be safe and retain its well-earned reputation. The only thing left to do, he thought, was decide what he wanted and then to go after it. Charlie’s face swam up into his mind and everything in him jolted with excitement. Just thinking about her had his pulse pounding and his body tightening. She was what he needed. What he had always needed.

The answer was so simple. His heart had known from the beginning. It was only his brain that had refused to see the truth.

He loved Charlie Potter.

And he was never letting her go.

Charlie waited outside the boardroom for Vance to be free. She had a sheaf of papers requiring his signature and Justin had been haranguing her on the phone about them for the past half hour. Once Vance had signed them, she’d take them downstairs so Justin’s heart palpitations could stop.

Standing against the wall, she shifted from one foot to the other, uncomfortable standing too long in the high heels Vance liked so much. She smiled to herself as she remembered their first time making love when he’d insisted that she never get rid of them.

Silly, she knew. But he made her happy. Enough that she was postponing the inevitable by staying with him a few more days. She didn’t want to leave, but what choice did she have? She couldn’t love a man who didn’t love her back. There was no future in that. For any of them.

Her head tipped back against the wall and she stared up at the ceiling. How would she ever live without him? How could she continue to work for him knowing that what they had shared so briefly was over? She wouldn’t be able to and she knew it. The only sane thing to do would be to quit her job.

Then she would have lost everything.

Frowning now, she straightened up when the boardroom door opened. She heard George Cromwell speaking, his gruff voice unmistakable.

“That was a good job you did, Vance. Catching the blackmailer.”

“Yeah, thanks. I’m glad it worked out.”

Her stomach dipped and rolled in reaction to Vance’s voice, and she nearly sighed at the hopeless case she’d become.

“I heard the rumors about you and that cute assistant of yours. Clever of you, romancing her so you could get to the bottom of it so fast.”

Vance stepped out of the boardroom and saw her. He stopped dead and though he didn’t say anything, guilt was stamped so cleanly on his features, he didn’t have to speak.

Charlie felt as though she’d been slapped. Was that all she had been? A tool used to capture Henry? Had none of it been true? Ever? Reeling from the implications of George’s statement, and the fact that Vance hadn’t denied it, she hurried down the hall, away from the boardroom, away from the man shouting her name.

“What the—” George muttered as Vance took off after her at a dead run.

Charlie beat him to the office and turned to slam the door on him, but Vance was too quick. He slapped one hand against the door and hit it hard enough that it smacked against the wall.

“Don’t you even speak to me,” she warned, and threw the papers needing his signature at him. They fluttered like oversize snowflakes to the floor.

Hurt, humiliation and good old-fashioned temper were steering her course now. She felt as if she were going to explode from the pressure building inside.

“Charlie, dammit,” he said, slamming the door closed so no one could overhear them, “hear me out at least.”

“No. There’s nothing you can say to me now that I want to hear. That’s it. I quit.” And to think only moments ago, she’d been dreading that decision. Now there was no other choice.

She hurried across the room to her desk and bent down to yank open the bottom drawer. She grabbed her purse, kicked the drawer shut and stood up.

He was right in front of her. His dark hair falling over his forehead. His brown eyes, with those gold flecks, were churning with emotion and his jaw was so tight, she saw the muscles there twitching.

“No way are you quitting.”

“You can’t stop me.”

“Watch me.” He grabbed her and held her in place, though she squirmed and wriggled and tried to break free. Finally, in desperation, Charlie drew her right foot back and kicked him in the shins.

He yelped, and that was satisfying, but he didn’t let her go, and that was infuriating.

“Dammit, will you just hold still for a second and listen to me?”

“Why should I?” she shouted. “I heard what George said to you and more importantly what you didn’t say back.”

“I didn’t have a chance to say anything. I saw you there and then you were running—”

“What would you have said, Vance?” She threw the words at him as a challenge. “Would you have denied it? Could you?”

He didn’t say anything, but the flicker of regret on his features said plenty.

Pain lanced through her. “I wondered, you know, why you were being nice to me. Remember, I even asked you. You didn’t answer me, but then how could you?” She shook her head in disgust. “Not easy to say, ‘I’m seducing your secrets out of you, Charlie—that okay with you?’”

“All right, fine,” he grumbled. “That was how it started. I think. Hell, I don’t even know for sure anymore.”

“Right.”

“I’m telling you the truth, Charlie.” He let her go, shoved both hands through his hair and said, “Ever since you walked in here, I haven’t been able to think straight. At first I thought it was your hair distracting me. Or maybe those damn shoes.” He shook his head again as if trying to understand all this himself.

“But it wasn’t any one thing at all. It was just you, Charlie. Your laughter. Your eagerness to learn. Your love of … everything.” He choked out a laugh. “You sneaked up on me. And yeah, I thought it would be a good idea, to take you out a couple times, romance you a little. See if I could figure out if you were a spy or not.”

“Romance me. At the Zoo Diner?”

“See?” He threw both hands high and let them drop to his sides again. His expression was baffled. “See what you do to me? I sat in the middle of that toddler hell and actually had a good time. I didn’t expect that. Didn’t expect you. What you did to me. How you made me feel. How you made everything better.”

Charlie wished she could believe him, but how could she? How could she ever trust him again? She felt the sting of tears in her eyes, but blinked them back. “You were using me. Just as Henry did.”

“No,” he said firmly.

“Yes,” she said. “But I’m done being used. By you. By anyone. I quit, Mr. Waverly. I’ll be by this weekend to pick up Jake’s and my things.”

“Charlie—”

She walked past him, head held high. He didn’t follow and that was good. Because Charlie didn’t know if she had the strength to walk away from him twice.

Vance shut himself up in his condo and didn’t speak to anyone. He didn’t go to work. Didn’t return his brother’s calls and refused to give a flying damn about Waverly’s or anything else.

His house was so quiet, it was driving him crazy. He stood in the doorway of Jake’s room and looked at the empty crib, feeling a similar emptiness in his own chest. The room still smelled like baby and Jake’s toys were still scattered across the floor. He bent down and picked up the red rubber ball and idly tossed it from hand to hand.

Then he wandered across the hall to the master bedroom. The room he hadn’t been able to sleep in since Charlie left. How the hell could he? She’d stamped herself all over the room. The T-shirt she slept in. Her hairbrush on the bathroom counter. Her slippers on the floor beside the bed. Her pillow that smelled like peaches.

The damn woman was everywhere but where she belonged.

He tossed the ball to the floor, stalked down the hall to the living room and out onto the terrace. He didn’t look at the chaise because recalling that particular memory at the moment might just finish him off. Instead, he stared at the river and mentally went over the plan that had begun forming when Charlie called that morning to say she would be at his place at one o’clock to pick up her things.

“I know what I want now,” he said, squinting into the sunlight dancing on the surface of the river. “And what I want, I get.”

He’d given Charlie two days to cool down. But when she showed up there at one to pack up her stuff, they were going to talk. Well, he was going to talk and she was going to listen. If he had to tie her to a chair.

The doorbell rang an hour later and Vance cursed. He wasn’t completely set up yet. He needed five more minutes. It figured the woman would show up early.

He walked barefoot across the room, his worn jeans dropping low along his hips, his bare chest warm from being out on the terrace collecting every damn flower he owned.

Yanking the door open, he stared down at her and he felt that hard, solid jolt of lust and what he recognized now as … love. She looked so damn small. Her hair was in a long braid hanging down the center of her back. She wore a bright blue blouse that did amazing things for her eyes and her khaki shorts stopped midthigh. Her sandals had daisies on the toes and her nails were painted a rich crimson.

Everything about her made him want to gather her up and hold on so tight she’d never get free. But first, she had to listen.

“I won’t bother you for long, Vance,” she said, stepping past him into the great room. “I’m just going to throw our things into the boxes we used when we came here—you still have them, don’t you?”

“If I said no would it stop you?”

“No,” she said sadly as she turned and headed for the bedrooms.

“Where’s Jake, Charlie?” He stopped her with one hand on her arm and that simple touch sent a bolt of heat dancing throughout his body. He’d been so cold without her that the heat was staggering. God, how could he have been so stupid to have waited so long to see the truth? How could he have risked this? Risked her?

She looked down at his hand on her arm, then lifted her gaze to his. “With Katie. Don’t, Vance. Don’t make it harder on both of us. Just let me pack up, okay?”

He let her go and followed her down the hall to the master bedroom. She opened the door and stopped dead on the threshold.

Exactly the kind of response he’d been hoping for.

He’d dragged every one of those pots of flowers in from the terrace. His bedroom looked like a tropical garden. The blue duvet on the bed had been sprinkled with rose petals and there was a bottle of champagne chilling in a silver bucket on the bedside table. The drapes were drawn and candles lit and soft jazz poured from the stereo.

“What is this?”

“This is seduction, Charlie,” he said, satisfaction plain in his tone.

“Vance …”

He turned her around, hands first on her shoulders, then sliding up to cup her face. His thumbs stroked across her cheekbones and caught a single tear that rolled from her eye. “Just listen to me, okay? Give me that?”

She swallowed hard, and nodded.

Encouraged, he took her hand and drew her into the bedroom, seating her on the edge of the bed. She perched there uneasily, as if ready to bolt. He’d have only one chance to get this right. Or his entire life was screwed.

No pressure, as Roark would have said.

He took a breath and blew it out, scraped one hand across his face and finally forced himself to meet her eyes. “You were right. I did start out to romance you for all the wrong reasons.”

She frowned.

“But that changed so fast, Charlie.” He laughed at himself. “Sitting in that godawful diner, listening to the howls of all of those kids and looking into your smiling eyes, I started falling.”

“Vance.”

“No more lies, Charlie,” he said, stepping up close to her. He cupped her cheek in his palm briefly before backing away again, because he knew he had to have a clear head to do this right. And touching Charlie fogged up his brain like nothing else. “I didn’t know what was happening and when I finally figured it out, I told myself it wasn’t happening. Because that was easier than risking what I felt for you.

“See, I didn’t know what the hell love was, Charlie. Until you.”

She gasped a little and folded her hands together in her lap, squeezing until the knuckles went white.

“I’ve never even used the word before, so how could I believe what I was feeling was real?” He reached up and shoved one hand through his hair, then looked around the room at what he’d made of it. “From the first minute you walked into my office, I felt … different. You woke me up, Charlie. Made me see the world around me. Made me realize everything I’d been missing.”

“Vance,” she said softly.

“No, don’t talk yet,” he ordered, stabbing one finger in the air at her. “You said everything you had to say the other day in the office and I don’t blame you. I was a jerk and you were hurt. But I never was using you, Charlie. Don’t think that. Even when I didn’t consciously know it, I loved you.”

She sucked in a gulp of air and another tear coursed along her cheek. Vance’s heart fisted in his chest.

“Don’t cry. I can’t take it when you cry.” He walked up to her again, pulled her up off the bed and looked down into her eyes. “I love you so much.” He tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear and said it again. “I love you. Believe me, Charlie. I will always love you.”

“I do,” she whispered, her mouth curving in that delectable smile that turned Vance’s insides to mush.

He grinned and let loose a relieved sigh. “Now there’s a phrase I want you to get comfortable with.”

“What?”

“I do. Two words I’m going to want you to repeat as soon as I find a judge to marry us.”

“Marry?” She stared up at him, dumbfounded. “You want to marry me?”

“What did you think this was all about?” he asked, laughing. “Think I dragged all these damn flowers in here to ask you to go steady or something? Think I’ve got champagne chilled because we’re going to shack up?”

“I—I—”

“I never thought I’d see this,” he said with another quick grin. “She’s speechless.”

“Sort of. Vance, remember, I’m a package deal.”

“And I want the whole package,” he told her as his heart thudded painfully in his chest. “You and Jake. If you’ll let me, I’ll adopt him. I already feel like he’s mine.”

“Adopt—” Her mouth dropped open and she slapped one hand to it.

“And I want more kids, Charlie. At least three or four.”

“Four—”

“I bought your house.”

“You what?”

“That house you love in Forest Hills Gardens? I bought it.”

“How? When? Why?”

He grinned. “Three excellent questions. Let’s just say I went over there last night and made them an offer they couldn’t refuse. The house is ours, Charlie. We can move in next month. All you have to do is say yes.”

“You bought the house?” She was stunned, blinking as if she half expected to find herself in a dream with someone waking her up any moment.

“Charlie, I want to give you and Jake everything. I want us to be a family. I want to say I love you every day for the rest of my life.”

“I can’t believe you bought that house.”

“You loved it.”

“Yes, but …”

“Charlie,” he said, his voice an urgent whisper as he fought for the thing he had wanted most in his life, “it’s just a building. Until you say yes and live in it with me, it’s just bricks and mortar and stone and—You’re the heart, Charlie. The heart of me. The heart of that house. Without you, we’re both incomplete.”

“I do love you so much, Vance,” she finally whispered as if she said it too loudly, it would shatter the moment.

“Say it again,” he urged, pulling her closer.

“I love you. I love you.”

He bent his forehead to hers. “God, that sounds good.”

She laughed shortly and looked around at the wonder he’d created just for her. “Vance, I can’t believe you did all this….”

“Hey!” He stopped, kissed her hard and fast. “There’s one more thing. Almost forgot. If you hadn’t been early, I’d have had it here. Can’t believe I left out this part. Amazing. Woman, you completely destroy my mind whenever I’m near you.” He pushed her onto the bed again, took a step and said, “Stay right there. I’ll only be gone a minute.”

She laughed and the wonderful sound of it followed him down the hall into the great room. He swung the painting over the hearth out of the way, opened the vault hidden behind it and reached inside for the surprise he’d left to the end, just in case he needed it.

Then he was back in the bedroom and holding out a flat, black velvet case to her. “I got this for you. I didn’t know it at the time. I had my representative call in and buy it. For an investment. But I think, even my subconscious realized that it was meant for you. And for me.”

“What?” She tipped open the box, gasped and said, “Oh my God! The queen of Cadria’s necklace?” She lifted her gaze to his. “Are you crazy?”

He laughed and dropped onto the bed beside her. “Only for you, Charlie. That necklace promises a long and happy marriage. And that’s what I want. With you.”

“You are crazy,” Charlie whispered as she dragged the tip of one finger across a ruby surface. Then she carefully closed the box and looked into Vance’s eyes. “And I love you being this crazy.”

“Show me,” he said.

And she did.

Three days later at Waverly’s …

“Ms. Richardson?” Kendra said into the intercom. “There’s a call for you on line 3.”

“Who is it?”

“He claims to be Sheikh Raif Khouri of Rayas. He says to tell you it’s about the Gold Heart statue.”

Ann felt a cold chill snake along her spine. Slowly, she reached for the phone with the same enthusiasm she would have shown for grabbing a live cobra.

When she punched into the line, she said smoothly, “Hello, this is Ann Richardson.”

“Ah, Ms. Richardson, thank you for taking my call.”

“Not at all. How can I help you?” Her mouth was dry and her stomach was doing twists and spins. Nerves jangled through every part of her body, but she kept her voice steady.

“I believe I am the one who can help you.”

“In what way?”

There was a long pause and then the man on the other end of the line sighed before saying, “It is about the Gold Heart statue. What I have to say may save you and your company a great deal of embarrassment.”

“I don’t understand. Is there a problem?”

“I would think so,” he told her, voice clipped with just an undercurrent of anger and suspicion. “The statue you have in your possession is either stolen—or a fake.”

The bottom dropped out of Ann’s world. This couldn’t be true. The press surrounding the acquisition of the statue had been global. Everyone in the world knew that Waverly’s had the Gold Heart. If they were found to have obtained it illegally—or, worse yet, to have been trying to palm off a fake as the real thing …

“That’s ridiculous,” Ann said, standing up since she couldn’t sit still another minute. “My experts tell me the statue is genuine. And as for it being stolen—”

“Two of the three statues in existence are now missing,” Sheikh Raif interrupted. “One was stolen over a hundred years ago—”

“And that is the one we have.”

“So you say. But since that statue has been missing for a hundred years, it seems unlikely that Waverly’s would have found it, don’t you think?”

Ann didn’t say anything.

“The other Gold Heart,” he continued, “was stolen just weeks ago from the palace. This is the statue I believe you have now. If so, I must insist on its return to Rayas. Immediately.”

Ann dropped back into her desk chair, completely exhausted. She couldn’t seem to catch her breath and her heart was beating so fast that she was surprised it hadn’t simply flown out of her chest.

This was a nightmare.

Roark had sworn the statue was legitimate, so she knew it wasn’t a fake. Could he really have found the long-missing statue, even though it had eluded discovery for more than a century? Or had he somehow been given a stolen artifact?

“Ms. Richardson?”

“Yes, I’m here,” she said.

“I’m afraid we have a problem that we must solve. Together.”

Oh, this was a problem, she thought as she listened to the sheikh telling her exactly what his country expected of her and Waverly’s.

She had to get hold of Roark. Had to know if the statue was real and how he’d come by it. She needed the provenance to be clear and unmistakable.

Otherwise, the scandal that would break would be Waverly’s undoing. And all that she had worked for her entire adult life would come crashing down around her.