Ursa pushed up from her lounge. “Good morning!” With a happy cry, she sprang to her feet and hurried over to her, throwing her arms around her. “Your fiancé plays so beautifully! This is amazing.”
Ursa’s delight bubbled over and Marcie struggled not to laugh aloud. “He is full of surprises, isn’t he?” She returned the hug and whispered, “Do you have wings, too?” God, she hoped so! She wanted to share that experience with her best friend.
“No,” Ursa said, radiating disappointment, but her smile did not fade. “Apparently I can only see them.”
“She is too modest,” Mano murmured as he began to play again, not singing this time. His skillful fingers ran deftly over the strings. His smile matched her happiness. Everything in the world was perfect.
“This is crazy, right?” Ursa said to Marcie in a low voice. “Crazy awesome, I mean.” Her eyes gleamed with delight. “I f-feel… I j-just—” She fumbled, and her nose crinkled as she searched Marcie’s face.
“Yeah. I know. I feel it, too.” She hugged her friend. “We are family.”
“Yes!” Ursa breathed out as Marcie put a word to it. Turning, she grinned over at Leo. The big man watched them with silent fondness. “I always wanted to have siblings. Travis is exactly how I imagined a brother would act. A big doofus brother.” She blushed and glanced over at Mano and then back at Marcie as she whispered, “I really like your fiancé, Marcie. I’m so happy for you.”
Marcie’s heart swelled. “Thank you, Ursa.” She’d expected Leo to ask Ursa to marry him weeks ago. She had never expected to be engaged before them, and it felt strange. A week ago, she’d had no romance in her life, and now she needed to plan an elaborate wedding. “You will be my maid of honor, right? I can’t do this without you!”
Ursa squeezed her tighter, blinking up at her. “Yes! Of course, I will! I would be honored to! Vans asked me to be hers, too.” Grinning over at Leo, she asked, “Did you hear that, love?” Somehow, the small woman glowed even brighter.
“I heard, princess!” He looked at her with a fierce pride before grinning at Marcie. “She’ll take good care of you, Marcie.”
“I know. And thank goodness, because I don’t know the first thing about weddings. I thought it wasn’t in the cards for me. Where are the other two lovebirds?” Marcie asked, following Ursa to the couch.
“Still in bed,” Ursa said with an impish smile.
“Think we will see them at all today?”
“They’ll come out once Sean starts cooking. He said he’s making the traditional Wallace family breakfast for us. Do you know what that is?” Marcie said.
Ursa offered her a steaming cup. They were really having tea in her sunroom while her handsome fiancé played music. She accepted the drink and relaxed beside her friend, leaning into her.
“It is Scottish and includes homemade black pudding,” Mano answered with a smirk. His eyes remained closed, head bowed as he remained focused on his song. “Fucking Wallaces,” he said with fondness, not missing a note in his playing. The music swelled with an exquisite longing.
“Mmm, pudding for breakfast.” Ursa grinned cheerfully as she refilled her mug.
“So adorable.” Mano chuckled. “Teddybear, black pudding is made from pig’s blood, rice and—”
“It’s made with blood?” Ursa squeaked, sloshing her tea. “I can’t eat that!”
Mano smiled wider. “It is fucking delicious. They make it with boar’s blood.”
“Boar’s blood? Are you kidding me? I think I’m going to be sick,” Ursa whimpered, putting her cup down. “That is disgusting.”
“Sean wouldn’t feed us anything bad,” Marcie assured her friend.
Ursa just groaned, ignoring the chuckles from the little man as she slumped into the couch. “That is horrible and wrong! And I thought his last name was Torrez. That is not Scottish.”
“His mother’s maiden name is Wallace. Her brother, Anthony Wallace, owns several restaurants in town. I guess they’ve been passed down through the generations to the eldest son. It’s where I’m interviewing today,” Marcie explained. “You know the Celtic Loom? It’s that high-end place.”
Leo whistled softly. “The Celtic Loom? Seriously?”
“That’s the place,” Marcie said with a smile. “My brief research uncovered that they still make tapestries from this antique loom as part of the tradition. Back during prohibition, they went from bar to textiles. Then it went back to bar and then into high-end dining. Damn foodies.”
“Don’t let them fool you. It also was a brothel once. I enjoy reminding Barb and Tony when they get all noble about their heritage and tradition,” Mano said, his eyes still closed while he played.
“See if you can get Ursa and me reservations for Valentine’s Day,” Leo teased. “For the restaurant. Not the brothel. Although we might have to sneak away during one of the courses for a quickie in the bathroom.” His dark eyes flashed, eyebrows arching suggestively.
“Leo!” Ursa gasped, tossing a pillow at him.
Marcie smiled over the rim of her tea mug. “I will see what I can do, darlings. First things first. Let me nail the interview.”
Chapter 3
December 22, 2015
The interview
Barbara Harris-Wallace waited for Marcie just outside the restroom when she hurried out, sweaty and flushed. She’d only made it halfway to the conference room for the interview before the mental bomb had gone off. At least she hadn’t wasted the woman’s time.
“Feeling all right?” Barbara asked, her voice and her expression full of kind concern. The woman was taller than Marcie by an inch or two. Black hair fell in a smooth caress down her back. Her swarthy skin and brilliant green eyes hinted at a Creole ancestry. She looked exotic, her classic beauty accented by the tailored skirt suit.
“This is horrible, but not really.” Marcie was not sure she could stay upright to get to her car. It would be easier if she could run out without being seen. “There’s no easy way to say this. I am not in any shape for the interview right now.”
Beatrix Engel’s smug satisfaction strangled her. Tell the barbarian you have no need of her sympathy or her charity. She and her kind are beneath you. The compulsion to actually say those words caught in her throat. She had to bend forward to suck in a soft breath through her teeth.
“Hmm,” Barbara murmured quietly, elegant eyebrows winging up over her jungle-green eyes. “Poor thing.” She didn’t argue or flutter. Instead she slipped an arm around Marcie for support and turned her around, moving back toward the stairs. “Anthony,” she called over her shoulder, “can you bring tea and cookies to my office?”
“I really shouldn’t,” Marcie said.
“It’s the least I can do. We are not going to let you drive while you’re looking green as a frog.”
“Tea and—” Anthony’s voice called behind them. “Ah. Right. Be right there.”
You must leave, Marcie. You must return to us. If you care anything for your Mano, you will leave there right now, Beatrix hissed inside her mind, and it twisted at her insides. Images of Mano, hurt and bleeding, filled her thoughts.
But Barbara didn’t respond to any of Marcie’s croaked protests as she led her past a series of desks in accounting and through the last set of doors into a comfortable office. Black-and-white pictures of her family hung on the walls. Unlike the cold, posed Adler paintings, these were candid snapshots, showing their love and warmth. This family was boisterous, messy, wild, and joyous.
“Just have a seat on the couch. Head between your knees. There you go.” Her hands soothed along Marcie’s back, down her spine, rubbing in slow circles. “There’s nothing to be ashamed about. I was that way every time. Gods, it was horrible.”
Marcie spoke to her feet as she bowed over her knees. “That way when? For your interview?” she asked, confused, her head roaring.
Barbara was silent and when Marcie looked up, she saw her biting back laughter. “No, lady. When I was pregnant.”
“Dramatic. Love, please, it’s only morning sickness.” Barbara crooked a finger at him to bring the tray to the side of the couch, her smile at the big man affectionate.
“But I’m not—” Marcie started to protest but Barbara tsked at her.
“It isn’t a question.” Barbara pushed the ginger-scented mug into her fingers. “We can do our interview here. Yes?” She smiled at her husband and then at Marcie.
Anthony remained poised like a warrior rather than a chef. “Of course, we can. Drink your tea, Miss Perez. And try the cookies, they’re really quite good.” His posture relaxed as he spoke and with a quick adjustment of the white chef coat, he once again looked the picture of the respectable business owner.
It was easy to see the family resemblance between young Kenneth Harris-Wallace and this pair. He had his mother’s darker complexion and green eyes, and his father’s square-jaw, cleft chin, and dimples. She saw in the pictures how the other children were stamped with the same good looks—dimples all around. The extended family picture was filled with them. Fathers, mothers, sisters, brothers, uncles, aunts, nephews, and nieces. Their tribe.
What a small, complicated world indeed.
Savages! Beatrix Engel’s voice snarled, full of disdain.
Marcie sipped the tea, feeling the external frustration and anger thicken in the back of her head. The compulsion to run faded as she enjoyed the delicious drink. She would just finish the cup and then she would go.
The only problem was that Barbara or Anthony continued to fill the cup as they talked to her.
Satisfied, Anthony nodded and then sprawled his long, strong frame into one of the chairs across from the couch.
“We own several restaurants in town,” he began. “The oldest has been in the Wallace family since the town was founded. We have been slowly growing our business since I inherited in 1999 and we are at the point we need to consider legal implications. Outsourcing isn’t really our thing. We’d need someone on staff.”
They showed her pictures of the buildings. Anthony and Barbara owned four restaurants in total. The oldest, best known and most respected being the Celtic Loom. The others were Three Compasses, Orange Tango, and Hooligan Hideout. Their children, Christopher, Derek, Alexander, Kenneth, and Vanessa—from eldest to youngest—were spread throughout the properties doing their various tasks from management and chef de cuisine down to hostess. There were generations of history there.
Marcie didn’t know if it was the tea and cookies or her own natural desire, but she felt drawn here. This job would be simple compared to what she was used to. Could she stay here without endangering people? How long would it take Beatrix to bring the might of Adler Enterprises down on the little town?
Not long! Beatrix’s voice hissed. In her mind she saw fire, smelled smoke and blood. I am not playing. Understand me!
“One or more of our children will want to strike out on their own at some point. We also have been thinking of spreading out to new locations,” Anthony was saying as he filled her cup again, his smile warm and encouraging. “We need someone to guide us through the legal tangles outside our little bubble. You have experience in expansion?”
Marcie wanted to laugh aloud at the understatement. “Yes.” Nibbling on the cookie, she felt as normal as she had before the whammy clamped onto her skull. “I can’t share details, but Adler Enterprises had many subsidiaries across the country. The focus is primarily environmental cleanup, but Hayden Industries, for example, has their primary function in research.” Focused on the acquisition of land and development, she didn’t say. “While I know business law, I am not familiar with restaurants or the food industry.”
“I promise we won’t make you scrub pots,” Barbara said with a wink.
Marcie found herself smiling back despite herself. She wanted the job. Not only because the work sounded interesting or because she wanted to help these kind people, but because the connection of kinship just felt right, the same as the link of friendship with Ursa.
And in the same breath, she knew she couldn’t accept it. She could never have a life with Mano. None of this was for her. She felt helpless. Beatrix Engel had her claws in her in a way she did not fully understand.
She had been so close to finding happily-ever-after, but she was on the wrong side of the glass. The assumption that her illness was due to being pregnant only made her sorrow sharpen. It knifed into her.
It would be the most glorious news in the world. But it was impossible. Not only had she only been with Mano a few beautiful days, she was on the pill.
You have been, and always will be, my spy, Marcie Perez, Beatrix’s voice crooned, growing smug. And he trusted you! He played right into our hands. You are your mother’s daughter, Marcie. I could not be prouder if you were my own flesh and blood.
She remembered the expression on Mano’s handsome face. Can I trust you? It didn’t matter that she had no control over this; she’d betrayed him and his trust.
“Miss Perez?” Barbara’s voice broke through her dark thoughts and her hand pressed against hers.
Marcie realized she was crying when Barbara pushed a napkin into her fingers.
“I’m sorry. I need to go.” I need to run! Her thoughts tangled as she stood up, mopping her eyes with the cloth. “The job sounds fantastic but I—”
“Wonderful.” Anthony clapped his hands together once. “So, when can you start?” The soulful brown eyes held hers and drowned her argument under the intense compassion. “It’s obvious your previous employer does not want to release you.”
The voice in her head swelled to a gurgling roar. I’ll kill them! I’ll kill them all!
“However,” Anthony continued, “you have grown beyond their sphere of influence.” His gaze held hers, as though he could hear the voice.
“That is really cute,” Barbara murmured, but her expression was serious. She too met Marcie’s gaze and then hers drifted just above her head.
Marcie’s ears rang.
“This is very unorthodox.” Anthony glanced at Barbara and then back to Marcie before holding up his hand. Across his palm, he had a birthmark of a key dark against his flesh. “I wield the key.”
“I wear the crown,” Barbara said respectfully as she held up her hand to show what appeared to be a simple crown in the center of her palm.
“I—” Marcie felt heat rush to her cheeks as she whispered, “I have no idea what I’m doing.” She held up her hand to show her own birthmark.
Barbara’s smile spread across her lovely face and she nudged her husband. “I win,” she whispered, looking smug as she pressed her fist to her chest. I have your back.
Anthony performed the same gesture and murmured, “You balance the scales, Marcie Perez.”
“What? Win what?” Marcie asked, finding it hard to speak over the sound in her head. The furious roaring grew louder. “I really should go.” She needed to hit the door and run and never stop.
“Do not run,” Anthony said firmly. “You are no rabbit, lady. You are a lioness! My wife and I had a bet for who would be a match for the little devil. If you would allow us, we will blind the adversary.”
“Blind? That sounds aggressive.”
Anthony grinned, the flash of his white teeth was savage. “We don’t mess around with her.”
“It’s her own fault for holding on to you. She is not welcome here, nor is anyone working with her.”
When Marcie nodded, Barbara let out a breath and leaned over. Swiftly she touched two fingers to Marcie’s forehead. The touch swept through her with a cool, minty chill. Like a light bulb exploding, brilliant white filled her head, followed by absolute darkness.
Mano caught her as she fell through the red-tinged fog. She could only see him as a vague shape, but the evergreen and spice scent of him was all
her senses needed to know as he swept her up.
“Gotcha!” His wings and arms wrapped around her for a moment as they spiraled together in free-fall—terrifying and wonderful. The sensation of the wind tore around them in a roar before he fanned his wings open and carried her aloft again. Somewhere in the middle her stomach got left behind and she clung tighter to her lover, afraid she might slip and go spiraling into the black.
“Where am I?” Marcie asked. “What are you doing here?”
“You’re in the gray, love. And I’m keeping you from being used as a bargaining chip with my auntie while they muzzle her.”
“You knew?” she asked, feeling her throat tighten with relief as she clung to him.
He murmured against her neck, “Yes, love. Of course! She is so sloppy in her overconfidence, thinking no one could see her ugly fingerprints all over you. Even your distracted friend, Vanderbilt, noticed.”
“You didn’t tell me! You let me think things were all right! She heard everything!”
“I didn’t tell or show her anything she doesn’t already know, love. I am sorry I kept it from you, but I couldn’t let her know we saw her without her doing something horrible to you.”
The reality of his statement chilled her to the bone. She didn’t even want to think what Beatrix might have done to her. Did that mean Beatrix caused the sickness? Marcie’s illness was a product of manipulation? Strange that she should be disappointed that her birth control did its job. Of course, she couldn’t have morning sickness only days after being with Mano. Despite knowing it, the knowledge twisted something inside her. They’d spoken so openly about children before and after having sex without a damn condom she had feared the pill wouldn’t do the job.
By my blood and all that I am, I won’t let anything happen to you or our children. As long as I draw breath, and into the beyond. Isn’t that what he’d said?
An unexpected grief seized her at their trick.
Her thoughts shattered when a muffled scream tore from Beatrix, choked with wrath and frustration. The furious sound filled Marcie with a buzz of white noise. Maybe it would be that easy and they’d artfully extract the parasite. It could be as simple as pulling out a splinter.
Dangerous Seduction Page 4