Damn the man. That glint in his eyes undid her every time. She’d have to work harder at her immunity to him before it was too late.
He turned her around and gave a small shove in the direction of the changing room. “Don’t forget I’m waiting for the floor show.”
Kate flicked up her middle finger behind her, not caring that the assistant was standing right beside Etienne. But all he did was laugh. He played her emotions like a fiddle. She needed to take back control and stop being so predictable.
The journey to Marseilles had been uneventful. She’d slept most of the way, waking fitfully as memories of her childhood invaded her dreams. But the spectre of Mercier was never far from her even when she was awake.
Their first stop had been to collect the painting Etienne had sent down from the Netherlands. She didn’t see him remove the necklace, but she presumed he now had it in his possession. At some point she was determined to take a closer look.
A soft curse escaped her lips as her hands smoothed down the dark blue chiffon skirt of the cocktail dress Etienne had chosen. She turned and glanced back at the mirror, admiring how the cut of the fabric showed her figure off to perfection.
How did he do it? Pull something off the rack and get it right the first time. It would have taken her hours to find something.
Probably dressed hundreds of women before you. She clamped down on the thought and quickly changed back into her clothes. As she approached the counter with both the dress and the suit in her hands, he merely raised an eyebrow.
“I’ll take them both, thank you.”
Her temperature rose as the assistant took the card Etienne held out.
“I can pay for them myself.” Although how she’d pay her credit card bill was another problem.
He turned to her with a patient expression on his face as if he were dealing with a small child. It pushed her ire up a notch. “Oui. I’m sure you can, but after what I’ve put you through, think of it as an apology.”
“Ah-ha! So you admit that my arrest was not accidental.” Did she hear the assistant gasp?
He laughed huskily and leant in to whisper in her ear. “I admit to nothing, chérie—but to be easily distracted by your charms.”
A shiver ran through her body, and she tried desperately to ignore the delicious warmth that replaced the heat of anger. She really was a fool to react to his spiel so easily. He was a millionaire with no conscience. Why should she care if he paid?
“In that case, thank you.”
Etienne paused for a moment. His forehead creased as he stared at her before punching his code into the credit card machine.
Finally she felt as if she were getting the upper hand.
He held the door open for her as they walked out of the boutique, and she fell into step beside him as they continued down the small street. “Well, at least the dress will show off the necklace to its best advantage.”
At Etienne’s silence, she glanced across at him. His lips were drawn into a thin line.
“Don’t go all male chauvinist on me now. If I’m good enough to be thrown to the mercy of the police, then I’m certainly worthy of being bait.”
Her tone belied the fact her heart was hammering and she had butterflies in her stomach, but she couldn’t afford to be sidelined by Etienne at the last minute. She’d just have to choke down the nausea that flooded her every time she thought about meeting Mercier again.
“Besides, what on earth can he do in the middle of an art gallery?”
Etienne paused and scrubbed a hand through his hair. She didn’t understand his reluctance. She thought he’d be all over the idea.
“Firstly, I’ve never intentionally placed you in harm’s way. Secondly, the only person I’d do that to is me. And thirdly…”
His voice drifted off and Kate’s breath caught in her throat as lust glittered in his eyes and his gaze darkened with an intensity that made her body ache with need. He leant in and kissed her lips softly before pulling back. “Thirdly, I’d hate for anything to happen to you.”
Kate might have melted into him if the words hadn’t seemed to have been dragged out of him reluctantly. But before she had a chance to decide, he straightened, grasped her hand, and started to lead her back down the street.
“Now, stop worrying. Let’s just get to the hotel and change.”
AS THEY WALKED up the steps to the gallery, Kate’s hand fluttered to the heavy weight of the pendant that rested against her collar bone beneath a silk scarf. In the end they’d reached a compromise. She got to wear the necklace but would only show it to Mercier when Etienne gave the signal.
It hadn’t escaped her notice that Etienne had barely let her have more than a peek at the real inscription. Nor had she missed the fact that it did indeed have an infill similar to the O on the troubadour poem just as she’d hoped.
Back in the hotel room when Etienne had laid out the Heart of Occitania, she’d thought it one of the most beautiful treasures she’d ever seen. But as he helped fasten the necklace, she’d felt as though a noose were being placed around her neck.
The deep red of the central ruby flashing in the reflection of the mirror only emphasised the death she saw everywhere. Her mother’s death. Carl’s murder. The fear that was a constant companion growing up.
Fortunately Etienne mistook her tense change of mood for nerves. She glanced across at him now. He stood tall and confident. No longer hiding in the shadows as they’d done the previous days, everything about him screamed wealth. Kate was almost envious of his ability to blend into their surroundings like some sort of social chameleon. Unlike her, whose heart was hammering so loud she was certain she was about to draw attention for all the wrong reasons.
Etienne’s warm hand on the small of her back as he guided her into the central room did nothing to ease the tension in her body. Her shoulders were stiff, her neck ached, and a dull throb had settled in the front of her head.
The event was already well underway. People mingled, drinking wine and discussing the paintings in front of them. While the event mainly displayed art and installations from up and coming artists, the style, materials, and mediums were varied.
Normally she would have enjoyed the chance to study the pieces up close, but for the most part they were lost to her as she scanned the room for Mercier.
There was no reason he should recognise her. She looked nothing like her ten year old self, and she’d only seen Mercier on a few occasions. Her fear was built on hushed conversations between her father’s cohorts and the paleness in her mother’s face.
“Remember, relax.” Etienne’s words rippled in the air close to her ear and sent a shiver down her neck. “Don’t force the meet. As we circulate around the room, we’ll run into him more naturally. And if he comes to us, so much the better.”
She turned to him and raised her eyebrows in question.
“It means he already knows why we’re here and is interested in talking.”
“Let’s hope it’s more productive than the conversation in the taxi.”
His lips rose as he picked up two glasses of white wine from the waitress circulating the room and passed one to Kate, but his smile didn’t reach his eyes.
“Santé.” Etienne took a sip of wine and nodded towards a painting alive with colour and movement hanging on the wall to their left. “I’ve often thought about acquiring something a little more abstract. What do you think?”
His use of language didn’t miss her. Acquiring, when most people would have said buying. Great, now she was helping him case joints. She followed Etienne as he moved through the room towards the painting.
“It’s the colours that attract me to this.”
“Which Etienne Castel am I advising? The rich playboy or the man that courts danger at every turn?” Kate knew she was baiting him, but taking a harder line made it easier for her to stay focused.
Etienne placed his hand on her forearm and drew her to one side, taking them out of the main throng of the gu
ests. He leant in. “I am only ever the man you see before you. My clothes may change, chérie, but I do not.” His reserved tone sent goosebumps along her spine.
She turned her head and met his steady gaze. Her throat tightened and her mouth went dry. Her retort came out as a strangled sound as Mercier rounded the corner. His body language suggested he was heading their way with deliberate intent. Her heart pounded in her chest. Etienne had noticed her strange response. The stiffening of his grip around her waist warned her to pull herself together.
Mercier would recognise her, she was certain. She should have told Etienne. At least he could have been better prepared. In what world did she think she’d be able to wing it?
Mercier drew closer with every hammer of her heart. A couple more beats and he’d reach Etienne. It was too late now to back away.
Her stomach churned. Etienne’s hand slid to her arm, taking her wrist as if to guide her away from the man about to approach them. Her pulse bumped wildly against his warm fingers. It wouldn’t take him long to realise her reaction had more to do with fear than anxiety.
Before she could pull her arm away, Mercier spoke. “Monsieur Castel, excusez-moi de vous dérange…”
The sound of his voice opened a floodgate of memories, but heartache for her mother tightened her chest, not fear. The Mercier in her mind was nothing more than a childhood bogeyman. He might be one of the most feared men in the underground drug world, but here under the bright lights of the gallery, he seemed almost a caricature of his former self, and Kate wanted to laugh at her own foolishness.
“Pas de problème.” Etienne glanced at her and switched to English. “You’re not disturbing us. These events are as much about networking as they are admiring the art, monsieur…?”
“Sorry, I didn’t think to introduce myself. Mercier. André Mercier.” His gaze flickered to Kate, before returning to Etienne’s without a hint of recognition.
The tension across her shoulders eased a little as Etienne released her hand to shake Mercier’s outstretched one.
“You like this artist?” Mercier nodded towards the painting they’d been studying before his arrival.
Etienne gave a noncommittal shrug and Mercier clapped him on the shoulder. “I admire a man who plays his cards close to his chest. The gallery owner would like nothing more than a bidding war on one of their paintings, I’m sure, but I asked merely out of curiosity about what interests a man like you.”
Kate took a large sip of her wine to stop herself from groaning at Mercier’s sycophantic statement. It showed how little Mercier knew about Etienne if he thought a few ego boosting compliments would get him anywhere. The man was impervious to flattery.
“I collect many different works across Europe from all eras.”
Was it her imagination or did Etienne just stress the last part of that sentence?
“We’ve just come from the Netherlands hoping to acquire a painting, but unfortunately someone beat us to it.”
“That’s so annoying when it happens. You have my commiserations. I trust your journey here was uneventful?”
Etienne’s lips rose in a half smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “It had it’s moments.” He half turned to Kate. “Didn’t it, chérie?”
She nearly choked on her wine as Mercier’s gaze swung to her and seemed to take in more than his previous cursory glance.
Etienne’s hand under her arm propelled her forward. “Allow me to introduce my assistant, Kate Jackson.”
Straightening her shoulders and with more determination than poise, she held out her hand and braced herself not to flinch at Mercier’s touch.
“Enchanté.” He lifted her hand to his lips and then held it out to gaze upon it for a moment. “Such beautiful fingers.”
Etienne’s comment to Didier about the finest safe cracker in the business came to mind. She wasn’t about to repeat the comment and prayed Etienne kept quiet.
“Thank you.” She snatched her hand back as gracefully as she could.
“So what do you think of the show, Madame Jackson?”
“Kate, please.” She took a deep breath to steady her nerves and lightly ran her hand over the silk wrap to reveal the necklace. “It’s an interesting mix of styles and mediums. I prefer the Realist painting over there, but Etienne has his eye on the abstract piece we’re standing in front of.”
“You’re not so keen?”
“Few pieces of modern art catch my attention. Art with a bit of history behind it is much more my style.” Etienne squeezed her arm, warning her she was going too fast and hadn’t waited for his signal. But judging by the look of interest in Mercier’s eyes as he gazed at the pendant resting against her breast bone, Mercier wasn’t about to question her motivation. “I like to look at a piece and imagine what drove the artist to paint a scene.”
“Which is why you prefer the realism over abstract.”
“Precisely.”
In her peripheral vision, she saw Etienne being drawn away by someone else into another conversation. He was still close by, but even so, an edge panic began to ripple through her.
Mercier took a sip of his champagne and studied the painting some more before turning back to her. “You were in Paris recently, I understand.”
Kate’s breath caught in her throat. Surely only she and Etienne were aware of their movements? Was he right when he had worried someone was already tracking their mobile phones? Did Mercier have a hand in Carl’s death?
She fought down the fear and pasted on a smile. “Yes. It’s a beautiful city.”
“And so many museums dedicated to art.”
“That’s one of it’s biggest attractions.”
“Which ones stood out to you? I can imagine that travelling with Monsieur Castel, who is known for his great support of the art community, must be quite enlightening.”
This was starting to sound like a fishing expedition. Describing Etienne as a patron of the arts was laughable. Perhaps she should add more fuel to the fire. “I’d like to think he learns a little from me, too. Part of my degree is in history of art.” She didn’t mention the mainstay of her qualification was actually law.
Mercier opened his mouth to say something, but Etienne returned at that moment, cutting Mercier off with his apologies.
“We were just discussing the delights of Paris.” Mercier reached out and touched her arm. “I once lost something of great value to me there. Taken without a second thought. Such a dangerous place, don’t you think? Beautiful, but not altogether trustworthy.”
His thumb rubbed along her skin, and Kate almost breathed in her white wine in shock. Was he talking about her or Paris?
Just as she was about to throw off his hand, he removed it to reach inside his pocket. “I’m having a little get together the day after tomorrow. You might be interested in some of the pieces I’m displaying.” He handed a card to Etienne. “Ring my assistant for the details. I hope you enjoy the rest of the show.”
He drifted away and into the crowd, and Kate drew in a deep breath to compose herself. Etienne leant in a little. His warm breath tickled her ear and sent a shiver down her spine.
“Who brought up Paris?”
Kate turned towards him and lost herself in his intense stare. For a moment she wished they were back in that room in Avignon. Before Carl died. Before they’d met Mercier. Before she knew about Papi. Nothing between them except great sex, and she could surrender herself to his passionate embrace without wanting more. Desire flared in his eyes for a moment before he banked it down and shifted his attention back to the abstract painting.
“He did.” Her voice was unsteady. She cleared her throat before continuing. “Does that mean he was following us even before Paris?”
“Possibly.” The slight downward tilt of his mouth suggested that he thought differently.
“Care to share?” She tried to inject a lighter note into her voice.
“Not here.” His voice was low. Not that anyone would overhear them. The crowd ha
d grown considerably in the last twenty minutes, and the noise level with it. “Let’s circulate and see who else he speaks to. Perhaps he’s still gathering buyers.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
IT WAS AFTER midnight and Mercier had left twenty minutes ago. The tension lines on Kate’s face had finally relaxed. She’d been more worried about tonight than simply meeting Mercier, but he couldn’t fathom why.
For someone who viewed the world in black and white, there seemed to be a hell of a lot that didn’t add up when it came to Kate Jackson.
She hadn’t been lying about her interest in art. Here tonight, she knew far more about the artists than he did. Even the ones she proclaimed not to like. Whoever her boss was, he was a fool not to take advantage of her art knowledge or law degree.
He could see her in court fighting against the injustices of the world, except it was probably where she’d learnt that life didn’t always work that way. That was one of the things he liked about his job. It wasn’t all about the thrill of an adventure, but that sometimes people were brought to justice and other times justice served itself.
He glanced over at Kate engaged in a lively conversation with an elderly couple, disputing the merits of the sculpture in front of them. To one side was another man obviously waiting for an opportunity to plant himself into their little group.
Etienne froze as an unfamiliar feeling rose up. One he hadn’t had since he and his brother had fought over a catapult when they were children. His pulse raced. His fists clenched. It wasn’t some noble gesture to rescue Kate that made him want to go over to where she stood, but a possessive desire to stake his claim. He was jealous.
She’d driven him mad with her endless talk of him being a criminal. She’d teased beyond endurance with her smart mouth and kissable lips. And she’d taken him to the edge of paradise last night when what he’d really deserved was to be rotting in some hell hole after how he’d treated her.
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