‘Thank you for the necklace, Lyon,’ she told him stiltedly as they stood up.
‘Will you wear it?’
‘I—’
‘Now,’ he prompted softly.
Shay was about to refuse when she saw the determination in his face. Why not wear it; it was a beautiful piece of jewellery, a compliment to her writing. As long as no one looked inside and read the inscription!
Marilyn asked to look inside the gold book after dinner that evening.
The small family dinner party was another Falconer tradition on Christmas day, and as Marilyn was still a member of it, she and Derrick had been invited for the evening too. Shay felt a little sorry for the other woman’s fiancé, knew that he must feel very uncomfortable spending so much time in the company of Marilyn’s soon-to-be ex-husband. But he seemed to take it in his stride, very friendly with all the Falconer men.
‘New necklace, Shay?’ Marilyn drawled as they enjoyed an after-dinner drink in the lounge.
Her eyes flashed warily as everyone turned to admire the necklace she had left beneath the high neckline of the black dress she wore, but which had somehow slipped on top of the silky material.
‘Does it open?’ Marilyn stood up to take a better look at the necklace, not waiting for confirmation or denial but flicking the book open, her eyes narrowing as she read the inscription. ‘Santa has been busy, hasn’t he?’ she snapped the book closed so forcibly that Shay winced. ‘How is your head now, Shay?’ Marilyn was in control again now, only the hardness of her eyes showing how much she resented the gift Lyon had given Shay.
She frowned. Was that a threat in the other woman’s voice? Surely it couldn’t be Marilyn after all—
‘Shay?’ the other woman prompted hardly.
‘Better,’ she answered abruptly. ‘It just aches a bit.’
‘Good.’ Marilyn gave a tinkling laugh of derision. ‘I meant, of course, that I’m glad you’re feeling better,’ she explained challengingly.
‘We’re all glad about that,’ Shay’s grandfather put in curtly, his eyes narrowed on the other woman.
‘Yes, indeed,’ Derrick agreed with enthusiasm, ignoring the glare he received from his financée for his trouble—unless he just didn’t see it. ‘Lyon was in a terrible state when he realised you had gone missing from the party.’
‘You do seem—accident-prone, lately,’ Marilyn drawled uninterestedly, obviously bored with the conversation she had introduced.
‘It must be a terrible thing if you are,’ Derrick nodded. ‘You never know what’s going to happen next.’
‘Shay isn’t accident-prone,’ Lyon rasped.
‘She isn’t?’ Derrick looked surprised by the firm assertion.
‘No,’ the other man bit out.
‘Oh.’
Shay felt sorry for the older man, and not just because of Lyon’s terseness with him just now. Derrick was obviously not up to matching Lyon, in any way, not if Marilyn’s often derogatory treatment of him was anything to go by!
‘Have you seen Matthew’s collection of antique clocks, Derrick?’ Shay asked conversationally.
He frowned. ‘I didn’t know he had a collection of clocks.’
‘I’m sure he would love to show them to you. Wouldn’t you, Matthew?’ she added pointedly.
‘Um? Oh—oh yes,’ he nodded, looking at her questioningly.
‘I’ll come with you,’ she decided, ignoring Lyon’s scowl, Marilyn’s scorn, Neil’s amusement, and her grandfather’s surprise, as she stood up gracefully.
‘Count me out,’ Neil drawled. ‘I’m too stuffed to move!’
‘You made an absolute pig of yourself,’ Marilyn agreed with disgust.
‘Don’t nag, Marilyn,’ he said easily, looking very comfortable as he lounged in the chair.
‘Lyon, are you going to let him—’
‘Do stop nagging, Marilyn’ Matthew groaned. ‘And if you want to appeal to anyone to come to your rescue then use Derrick here; he is the man you’re going to marry. Isn’t he?’ he challenged.
Marilyn gave him a blazing look of anger before turning away. ‘Lyon, I have something I need to discuss with you. In private.’ She looked pointedly at the lounging Neil.
‘I’m not moving,’ Neil told her lazily.
‘We’ll go into one of the other rooms,’ Lyon bit out. ‘If it’s really important.’
‘Why don’t you take her upstairs and show her your new suite of rooms?’ Matthew jeered.
Marilyn’s eyes widened. ‘What new suite of rooms?’
‘We’ll leave you to tell her.’ Matthew looked mockingly at his brother. ‘Come on, Shay, Derrick. Patrick?’
He shook his head. ‘I think I’ll stay here and keep Neil company.’
Shay felt even more sorry for Derrick as they went to the room put aside for Matthew’s clocks, the one she had bought him for Christmas already added to the collection. Didn’t the poor man realise that if he wanted to hold on to Marilyn he was going to have to be a lot stronger than he was?
He had obviously only come with them now to view the clocks out of politeness, and Matthew did his best to bore him as he went into detail about each clock. Shay wasn’t in the least surprised when the man made his excuses as soon as it was possible and escaped back to the lounge, Matthew’s boring monologue having droned on for over half an hour.
‘That was cruel,’ she chided as Matthew chuckled once the other man had left.
He shrugged unrepentantly. ‘If he wants to survive in this family he’ll have to toughen up.’
‘He won’t be in this family.’
‘You think not?’ Matthew replaced the Victorian clock on the shelf that he had been reverently holding. ‘Has it seemed as if Marilyn has actually made a move to leave the family completely?’
‘No, but—She and Lyon are getting a divorce!’
‘Yes, I finally think they are.’ He sounded surprised. ‘But I wonder if Marilyn will actually marry Derrick.’
‘Of course she will; they’re engaged.’
‘So they are,’ he mused.
‘Matthew, stop being evasive. If you have something to say, then say it!’
He shook his head. ‘I don’t have anything to say.’
‘Then why don’t you leave that poor man alone?’ she chided. ‘It can’t be easy for him.’
‘No, I pity any man who intends marrying Marilyn.’
‘That isn’t the problem.’
‘No?’ He raised blond brows.
‘No.’ Shay shook her head thoughtfully. ‘It’s following Lyon that’s so difficult. Marilyn is obviously still very fond of him.’ She wouldn’t embarrass the other woman by telling Matthew Marilyn was still in love with her husband. ‘And any woman who’s been that close to Lyon must find it difficult to accept another man in her life.’
She was so lost in thought that she didn’t even notice the way Matthew was looking at her, but when she did notice she didn’t like the speculative look in his eyes.
‘Do you realise what you just said?’ he asked slowly.
She frowned. ‘We were talking about Marilyn and Lyon.’
‘Were we?’
‘Of course we—Matthew, why do you keep looking at me like that?’
‘When you first came back here I told you I didn’t think you were ready to talk just yet,’ he spoke gently. ‘Well, I think you’re ready now.’
‘We have guests—’
‘Later then, after they’ve gone. I have to tell you a few things about Lyon—and Ricky,’ he added softly, his gaze searching.
‘Ricky?’ Her eyes widened. ‘What—’
‘Later, Shay,’ he promised. ‘We’ll talk later.’
Marilyn appeared to be in no hurry to leave, Shay finally hearing the other couple go as she was feeding Richard shortly after one o’clock, having excused herself so that she could go up to him.
Lyon came into the room just as she was tucking the sleeping baby back into his cot, self-conscious of her unbut
toned dress, her breasts bared.
She gasped as Lyon came up to her to cup her breasts inside the dress, heat instantly coursing through her body. ‘No, Lyon!’ She swung away from him, hastily adjusting her dress, her eyes bright as she looked up at him.
He walked silently from the nursery into her bedroom, and Shay followed him, closing the door to Richard’s room quietly behind her.
‘Since when did you have such an interest in Matthew’s clocks?’ he rasped.
She gave a start of surprise. ‘I haven’t.’ She shook her head.
‘You stayed with him for about ten minutes after Derrick came back to the lounge,’ he scowled.
She relaxed a little. ‘Ten minutes, Lyon?’ she derided.
‘Nine minutes and twenty-five seconds,’ he said gruffly.
‘I’m flattered that you timed us, Lyon, but it wasn’t necessary. Matthew and I were just talking, about you, in fact.’
‘Me?’ He looked taken aback.
‘And Marilyn,’ she taunted.
‘Don’t make fun of me, Shay,’ he warned softly. ‘Not now. I’m not in the mood to be amused.’
‘Threats, Lyon?’
His eyes darkened. ‘You know I would never willing hurt you.’
‘Then leave me alone.’
His mouth tightened. ‘One day you’re going to have to admit how you really feel.’
‘About you?’ she taunted. ‘I already know how I feel,’ she scorned. ‘Disgusted, most of the time.’
‘And what about the rest of the time?’
‘Hatred, Lyon,’ she told him softly. ‘I feel intense hatred.’
‘Even that’s better than nothing at all,’ he declared. ‘And there’s a very thin line between love and hate.’
‘And between sanity and insanity, so they tell me!’ she snapped.
Lyon smiled without humour. ‘I’m not mad, Shay.’
‘No,’ she conceded heavily. ‘Just arrogantly determined.’
‘Thank you for the painting, Shay.’ He touched her cheek. ‘It will do until I have the real thing in my bed.’
If it weren’t for Richard she would leave right now and never come back. But even if Lyon wouldn’t bother to come after her, she knew he would never let Richard go. And after yesterday she got an uneasy feeling in her stomach whenever Lyon was near. No regrets, she had decided when she had taken what he so blatantly offered. But how could she not regret the fact that she had given in return!
She was too disturbed to be able to sleep just yet, and surely this was the ‘later’ Matthew had spoken of.
She left her room quietly, pressing back against the wall as she saw the figure moving stealthily up the hallway, holding her breath as Patty stopped outside Matthew’s bedroom door. What on earth was the other woman doing here this time of night? The staff had been given the evening off after dinner had been served. Patty obviously wasn’t working, wearing tight denims and a pale blue sweater, looking younger out of uniform. But what was she doing creeping about the house in the early hours of the morning?
Shay was about to call out to the other woman when she suddenly knocked softly on Matthew’s door instead of quietly entering as Shay had expected her to. The person who had been causing all the ‘accidents’ to the family hadn’t shown themselves so far, surely knocking on a door for entry wasn’t characteristic of that elusive person?
Matthew had obviously been preparing for bed, partly undressed as he opened the door to Patty’s knock, not looking surprised to see her standing there.
Shay couldn’t hear what was being said, although Matthew did sound angry. Patty was calmer, more reasoning, suddenly stepping fully into the room and closing the door firmly behind her.
Shay didn’t know how long she stood there, but it must have been ten minutes or so, and still Patty hadn’t left Matthew’s room. She had even heard the other woman giggle once! Matthew and Patty…?
Matthew and Patty what? Matthew acted as if he hated the other woman, had even asked for her dismissal, so what was going on? Only Matthew or Patty could answer that question—and neither of them seemed in a hurry to leave Matthew’s bedroom!
* * *
‘WHY DO YOU KEEP frowning at me like that?’ Matthew demanded tersely.
Shay’s eyes widened at his show of temper, the five of them—the three Falconer men, her grandfather and herself—sitting down to breakfast together. ‘I didn’t realise I was,’ she told him truthfully.
‘I feel as if I’ve suddenly grown two heads,’ he snapped.
‘I’m sorry. I—’
‘Leave her alone, Matthew,’ Lyon rasped, scowling heavily. ‘Take your bad temper elsewhere.’
Matthew slammed down his coffee cup. ‘I think I will!’
‘Matthew!’ Shay gave Lyon a reproving glance before following him. ‘Matthew, I want to talk to you—’
‘I’m going to the office!’
‘Then I’ll come with you. Matthew, I wasn’t staring at you, it’s just that I came to your room last night, and—’
* * *
LYON STIFFENED as the rest of the conversation was shut off to him as the couple went into the office and closed the door after them. Shay going to Matthew’s bedroom?
‘What’s going on?’ Neil looked puzzled by the whole incident.
‘Certainly not what it sounded like,’ Patrick told them sternly.
It could have been funny if it weren’t so damned devastating! Lyon wasn’t about to lose Shay to another of his brothers. ‘Excuse me.’ He stood up. ‘I have some things to do.’
‘Lyon.’
He turned at Patrick’s softly spoken plea.
‘It isn’t what it sounded like,’ Patrick repeated firmly.
Lyon’s mouth twisted. ‘I hope you’re right, Patrick,’ he ground out. ‘Because if you aren’t, I’m likely to commit murder!’ He strode out of the room after Shay and Matthew.
* * *
‘YOU DID what?’ Matthew turned on her as soon as they were in the privacy of his office.
‘Came to your room,’ she repeated with a grimace, not having meant to burst out with that the way that she had.
‘And?’ Matthew’s eyes were narrowed defensively.
She moistened her lips. ‘And I was too late to talk to you,’ she shrugged.
Green sparks shot from hazel eyes. ‘You mean Patty got there first,’ he snapped.
‘Matthew—’
‘Just what did you see, Shay?’ he demanded angrily. ‘Or thought you saw?’
She didn’t think she had seen anything, she knew exactly what had happened—before Patty entered Matthew’s bedroom and closed the door. After that, she didn’t even want to guess. But whatever had transpired between these two it hadn’t made either of them happy; Matthew’s temper could attest to his own disturbed state, and when Patty had brought her coffee up this morning her eyes were shadowed with pain.
‘I wasn’t spying on you, Matthew—’
‘No?’ he scorned. ‘Forgive me, it sounds very much like it to me!’
‘Well I wasn’t.’ Her own temper rose at his unreasonable tone. ‘You said we were going to talk—’
‘It was after one o’clock in the morning when Patty came to my room!’
She looked at him with calm eyes. ‘I know,’ she confirmed softly.
For a moment his gaze challenged hers, and then he gave a disgusted snort and turned away. ‘And as it was after one, what was she doing in my bedroom,’ he acknowledged harshly.
‘She could have been bringing you a late-night drink—’
‘We both know she wasn’t.’ He looked up at Shay with tortured eyes. ‘Patty spent the night with me,’ he admitted.
‘And?’ She looked at him expectantly.
‘And nothing,’ he dismissed coldly.
‘Matthew—’
‘My relationship with Patty is none of your business,’ he told her heatedly.
‘I know that—’
‘But you want to know anyway!�
�� he rasped. ‘What do you want to know, Shay? How I managed to—’
‘Matthew!’ she cried her dismay.
‘Yes—Matthew!’ Lyon stepped into the room. ‘That’s enough! Shay is aware of the fact that your disability doesn’t incapacitate you in a sexual sense.’
‘And I wonder just who told her that?’ his brother challenged, furiously angry.
Tawny eyes darkened even more. ‘Matthew—’
‘Matthew, I only told you I knew about last night because I don’t want you to get hurt,’ Shay spoke gently. ‘We have to—’
‘I never care enough about any woman to be hurt by one.’ His reply was bitter.
In Patty’s case that was a lie, and they both knew it; Matthew was in love with the other woman. ‘That wasn’t the sort of hurt I was talking about, Matthew,’ she gently rebuked. ‘We’re all in danger until we find out who is trying to harm us, can trust no one—’
‘You can both trust Patty,’ Lyon put in hardly. ‘Implicitly.’
Shay knew that Matthew looked as surprised by the unequivocal claim as she felt. Just how could Lyon be so sure—‘Oh, my God,’ she breathed raggedly. ‘She’s another one of them, isn’t she? One of your spies!’ she accused disbelievingly. Not a mistress, another body-guard!
Lyon looked at her coldly. ‘Patty works for the same firm Donaldson and Grieg do, yes. Luckily she’s a damn sight more efficient than both of them!’ he declared fiercely.
‘My God!’ Matthew gasped dazedly.
Shay turned to him with concern, worried by the grey cast to his cheeks. ‘You didn’t know, did you?’ she groaned.
‘Patty had instructions not to tell anyone who or what she is,’ Lyon told them arrogantly.
Hazel eyes blazed with fury, and Shay was sure that if Matthew could have he would have knocked Lyon off his feet and not let him up again until he had beaten him to a pulp! Instead, he used every verbal weapon he had to beat his brother into the ground!
‘ “Who and what she is"?’ Matthew repeated icily. ‘Why don’t we concentrate on what you are, Lyon. You’re a cold-hearted, calculating bastard,’ he accused with dislike. ‘You manipulate and use people at your will. But you couldn’t manipulate Ricky into staying here, could you?’ he goaded with derision. ‘He married the woman you wanted, had the nerve to keep her, to eventually take her away from here.’
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