By Private Invitation

by Stephanie Julian

  “Because the corporation doesn’t actually exist.” Dane finally threw himself into the chair opposite Jared’s desk, shoving his hand through his dark hair to push it out of his face. “Whoever set this up was a fucking genius. I think I need to hire him.”

  “So you can’t find her?”

  Dane shot him a dirty look. “I didn’t say that. It’s just going to take a little time.”

  “How much time?”

  “Maybe a week. Maybe more to sift through everything. I’m telling you, whoever did this did not want to be found.”

  Well, shit. Why the hell would an antiques dealer from some small town in Pennsylvania not want to be found? It sounded like the plot to a mystery novel.

  And seriously pissed him off.

  “Are you working the antiques store angle?”

  Dane flipped him off with both middle fingers this time. “Stick to hotels and let the professionals handle the heavy lifting. Of course I am, but like I said, it’ll take some time to wade through.”

  Jared sighed and tossed the file back on the desk. He was tempted to tell Dane to forget it. He’d tell Nana he couldn’t find her and that would be the end of it.

  But the look on her face as she’d tossed him the pin. The hurt…

  And last night, he’d dreamed about her, naked and writhing under him while he thrust into her. She’d begged for more, bit his skin, licked him, sucked him. And he hadn’t been able to get enough of her.

  The dream had been so real he’d woken on the verge of orgasm, like a goddamn teenager.

  He’d had to finish the job in the shower, thinking of Belle.

  Christ, when the hell had he last dreamed about a woman? It was pathetic and he didn’t do pathetic.

  But…

  “Keep digging. Let me know when you find her.”

  Dane’s gaze narrowed. “Why?”

  “Why what?”

  “Why are you so determined to find her?”

  “Nana wants to talk to her about the pin.”

  “That’s not all.” Dane sat forward in the chair, a smile starting to curl his lips. “There’s something else. You actually liked this woman, didn’t you?”

  Jared rolled his eyes. “What are you? Twelve? This isn’t high school.”

  “No, but you never acted this way in high school, either. You’re always moving on to the next woman, the next party, the next project. You don’t ever get stuck on one thing.”

  “I’m not stuck on her. Christ, Dane, Nana wants to talk to her. That’s all.”

  Well, maybe not all. He wanted her back in his bed.

  “Just find her.”

  Seven

  “Damn the man, anyway. I hope he pricks himself with the pin and gets blood poisoning.”

  Annabelle ran a brush through her hair, twisting the unruly mass into a tight bun on the back of her head. Monday mornings she typically slept in because the shop was closed. Today, she had business.

  She stuck in a few pins to hold the mass in place, then stepped back to check her appearance.

  Minimal makeup. Brown suit, cream camisole that revealed no hint of cleavage. All buttons done up tight. Stockings, no runs. Brown and cream spectator pumps.

  Should’ve kept my damn buttons closed New Year’s Eve.

  She looked…boring as all hell.

  “No, not boring. Respectable,” she told her reflection. Who stuck out her tongue.

  Had it really been only two weeks since that night? A night filled with more pleasure than she’d experienced in her whole life.

  A night that had ended in humiliation.

  Damn, Jared Golden. She had to stop thinking about him.

  Today she needed to have her head in the game. One slip up and her carefully crafted life crumbled.

  She pulled a face at herself. “Overdramatic much? Jeez.”

  Still, she had to be careful. Especially with collectors.

  “Talking to yourself again, Annabelle?” Kate’s voice floated into the room from downstairs. “I thought I told you to stop that. It’s making me nervous.”

  Sighing, she turned from her reflection and headed down the steps to the shop. Kate waited at the bottom of the stairwell, grinning at her.

  “I thought you were working today.” Annabelle gave Kate a hug, holding on a little longer than usual. “Are you here for moral support?”

  Kate’s rueful smile was her answer. “Sorry, but I can’t stay long. I just wanted to see how you’re doing.”

  Annabelle tugged at the hem of her tailored suit coat. “I’m fine. Okay, maybe I’m a little nervous. I don’t want to screw this up and have her realize who I am. Jesus, why the hell did I ever think becoming a freelance appraiser for Carmen Moran was a good idea? She knew my parents. She commissioned pieces from Daddy. I don’t remember ever meeting her and I can’t imagine that she’ll connect me with them but—”

  “Annabelle.” Kate reached out to squeeze her hand. “Everything will be fine. Just calm down. Your grandfather made damn sure your background would stick when he had the lawyer draw up the papers for your new identity. Carmen Moran will have no reason to look beyond that.”

  Annabelle took a deep, calming breath. “You’re right. I know you’re right.” She looked down at herself and tugged on her skirt. “Do you think I should have worn the blue suit? But the blue one makes me look fat. Of course this one makes me look like a spinster. But I—”

  “Annabelle, please.” Kate laughed, holding her hands over her ears. “My brain’s going to bleed. Carmen Moran isn’t coming to critique your wardrobe. She’s coming because she knows you’re good at what you do.”

  “I know, I know.” Groaning, Annabelle hurried through the shop and into the front room. “I just want this to go well. If she adds me to her list of appraisers, my reputation will be set.”

  She cursed as she banged her left shin on an 1876 Philadelphia highboy and nearly knocked over a 1787 primitive rocker on her way to the counter in the front of the store.

  “You’ll be fine.” Following behind, Kate smoothed a hand over her shoulder, brushing a spec of lint from the fabric. “Don’t lose your cool. You know your stuff. You have a double major in art history and design. You’ve been collecting art all your life and you’ve got a file folder full of recommendations from satisfied customers who you’ve done appraisals for. You’ve got the credentials.”

  Taking a deep breath, Annabelle held it for a moment before letting it out. “I know you’re right. I know it. It’s just…My head’s been all messed up lately. I wish I’d never met that damn man.”

  “Ah.” Kate nodded sagely. “Now I know what’s going on.”

  “I can’t believe I fell for his line.” Annabelle sighed, wishing she could just forget New Year’s Eve. “I should have realized he was after something. He was just too good to be true.”

  And, oh, it had been good. Every night since that party, she’d dreamed about Jared. Dreams that owed more to her imagination than memory. He hadn’t been that good.

  Which is a complete crock.

  She almost told herself to shut up, but then Kate would really think she was nuts.

  “Just put him out of your mind for now,” Kate said. “Focus on what you need to do. After you’ve been added to Carmen Moran’s stable, I’ll fix you up with some nice, quiet friend of Arnie’s.” She paused, wrinkling her nose. “Then again, maybe that’s not such a good idea.”

  Annabelle saw something flicker through Kate’s expression, something she’d never seen there before. Doubt about her relationship with Arnie.

  Annabelle wanted to do a victory dance even though she shouldn’t be so happy that her friend was having doubts about the man she’d agreed to marry.

  Maybe their night in Philadelphia had been good for something if Kate was questioning her relationship. Which was a huge mistake just waiting to happen, Annabelle believed. But one she couldn’t convince Kate of.

  Seems all Kate had needed was one night at a swanky hotel
party. If Annabelle had known that was all it would take, she’d have booked them a weekend away a year ago. Before she’d said yes to Arnie.

  “You’re right. It’s not a good idea,” Annabelle agreed. “I’m swearing off guys for a while.”

  At least she was swearing off playboys who made her hotter and hornier than she’d ever been in her life.

  The bell over the door dinged, making Annabelle’s breath catch in her throat.

  Just her luck the woman would be early…

  Turning, she swallowed a groan as Teddy Walters waddled into the room like a two-hundred-pound duckling.

  “Hello, Annabelle,” he chirped in his high-pitched squeak. “So, today’s the big day, huh?”

  She managed not to roll her eyes, but just barely, and forced a smile for her fellow antiques dealer. Teddy and his mom, Dolores, owned a shop just up the road where Dolores had a collection of Staffordshire china to die for.

  “Good morning, Teddy. I thought you were visiting your sister this week in Pittsburgh?”

  “Oh, I am, I am.” He nodded to Kate, but never took his eyes off Annabelle. Well, Annabelle’s chest. “But I wanted to be sure I said good-bye before I left.”

  Annabelle and Kate exchanged a look, which Teddy never noticed.

  “Well, I hope you have a great time,” she said. “Say hi to your sister for me.”

  “I will. Mom asked if you’d come visit her while I’m gone.” He nodded sagely, the perfect copy of his elderly mother, who he still lived with. “You know how lonely she gets when I’m not there.”

  Annabelle now had to work to keep from rolling her eyes. Dolores actually loved to have her little house to herself. Said she enjoyed the peace and quiet.

  When Teddy turned to look around the shop, she made a frantic face at Kate, who bit her lips to stop laughter from bubbling over.

  Annabelle hated to be rude to anyone but she couldn’t take Teddy today. He made no bones about the fact that he wanted to date her. But as much as Annabelle adored his mother, Teddy didn’t do a thing for her. Which never stopped him from trying.

  And after Jared—

  No. The man had no place sneaking into her thoughts today.

  “I’ll be sure to stop by,” she said with a gracious smile. “Now, I’m sure you need to get on the road so don’t let me keep you. I know how your sister looks forward to your visits.”

  Teddy’s bright smile made him almost handsome. Almost. “Alright, Annabelle. I’ll be sure to stop by when I get back.” He smiled again, and with one last quick glance at her chest, he walked out the door.

  Kate and Annabelle sighed simultaneously, then broke out in bemused laughter.

  “I swear, that man would attach himself to your leg if he ever cut his mother’s apron strings,” Kate said. “You should put him out of his misery and go out on a date with him. Just once.”

  Annabelle shook her head. “Wouldn’t help. He’d never leave me alone then. But I did need the laugh. I should thank Teddy for that. I’m a little calmer now.”

  Kate gave her another hug before moving to the door. “Think about good old Teddy’s face if you get nervous. That’ll help you smile. I gotta get back to work. Just remember, Annabelle, no one knows your stuff better than you. Make sure you come and tell me how it goes.”

  Kate closed the door behind her, leaving Annabelle alone again to run a critical eye around the shop.

  Situated on a side road off the main antiques drag, the building’s former life as a small hotel built in the 1890s had been eradicated except for the main desk her granddad had turned into the checkout counter. He’d gutted the first floor for the shop and renovated the second and third floors into a living space.

  The first floor, with the exception of the rear gallery, was an open space filled with furniture. Annabelle closed her eyes for a few seconds then opened them, trying to see the room as a casual observer would.

  It was crowded, but what antiques shop wasn’t. Granddad had alternately cursed and blessed their many treasures, but Annabelle had never seen the jumble as anything less than heaven.

  Lancaster County chests mingled with Philadelphia sideboards and an authentic Gruber Wagon built in Berks County took up a large area near the front of the store. Grandfather clocks made in Reading near the turn of the nineteenth century towered over the folk art made by an itinerant farm worker in the 1940s.

  She had a couple of Benjamin Austrian paintings on the wall and several local landscapes that, remarkably, still looked the same as they had a hundred years ago.

  Since it was Monday, and the shop was closed, she didn’t have to worry about visitors interrupting. But that left her with an hour to fill before Carmen Moran was set to arrive.

  Carmen had agreed to come to the shop instead of interviewing Annabelle at her New York gallery because Carmen was traveling back from Ohio to visit family by car and it’d worked for her schedule.

  That had suited Annabelle just fine. She loved the city but it’d been years since she’d been back.

  Heading back to the front room and the CD player beneath the counter, Annabelle dug beneath the tasteful classical music she typically played when the store was open until she found what she wanted.

  She smiled at the posturing cast of The Matrix. The obliviously cool Keanu Reeves. Sexy Carrie-Anne Moss. All that black leather.

  Slipping the CD out of the case and into the player, she queued up her favorite song and cranked it.

  Marilyn Manson blared from the speakers hidden throughout the shop. Closing her eyes, she let the hard-driving drums and guitar pound at her brain. She couldn’t help herself, her feet wouldn’t stay still, and she started to sway to the music.

  Hairstyle be darned. They didn’t call it head-banging for nothing. Music had been one of the few normal teenage things she’d been into. And she couldn’t seem to cure the addiction to industrial metal she’d picked up when they’d lived in Germany for several months in her teens.

  The music throbbed in her blood, lending itself to a total release of inhibitions. Thank God no one could see her—a grown woman dancing like she was a fourteen-year-old in the concert pit. Pins flew from her hair and she raked her hands through the mass to take out the rest. She’d fix it later. After she got this restlessness out of her system.

  It felt good to let go. She’d been living in a fishbowl since breaking up with Gary. A young woman with no family, no boyfriend, and very few friends living in a tight community was cause for speculation.

  If she hadn’t—

  Someone started clapping.

  Eight

  With a gasp, Annabelle stumbled over her now schizophrenic feet, grabbing onto the nearest piece of furniture to help her regain her balance. She froze, lungs gasping for air, and scoured the room until she found the intruder.

  Silhouetted against the front window, Jared Golden glimmered like a mirage in the morning sun.

  He wore a denim shirt under a black leather jacket and a pair of jeans that clung lovingly to his thighs. He looked so different out of his tuxedo she had to wonder if she wasn’t seeing things at first.

  Until he smiled.

  Then a rush of heat swept over her, so devastating it threatened to make her knees buckle.

  Elation rose before she could squelch it, followed by intense disappointment, embarrassment…and a little fear. He’d caught her with her guard down.

  And he shouldn’t have been able to find her in the first place.

  Old fears tried to swamp her.

  After the murders, her grandfather and his lawyer had hidden her identity so well, not one of the tabloids or the news programs had been able to find her. But that didn’t mean she didn’t have panic attacks about being found. About having her identity, the one she’d built around herself, ripped away.

  Damn, damn, damn that man.

  How the hell had he found her? She’d used her personal credit card to charge the hotel bill, the card her lawyer had set up so that neither her legal name
nor any other was attached to it.

  He’d assured her it was perfectly legal and no one would be able to track her down through it.

  Yet, here stood Joshua Golden.

  Had he discovered who she was? Was that why he was here?

  Don’t assume anything. He can’t know for sure.

  Drawing herself up to her full height, she pushed her unruly hair behind her ears and stuck out her chin. No way would she let him see how flustered she was. After a deep breath, she walked to the CD player and turned down the volume. She wouldn’t turn it off because that would leave a silence to fill. And this was going to be bad enough.

  “What the hell are you doing here?”

  She’d meant her tone to be hard, unconcerned. And mentally smacked herself when it came out breathless.

  That smile of his pumped her blood pressure even higher.

  “I have something of yours.” His strong voice conquered the music and his smile had disappeared. Staring straight into her eyes, his intensity shuddered through her like an electric shock to her system.

  She swallowed and wet her lips before attempting to speak again. His gaze burned as it followed her tongue’s path.

  “You have nothing I want,” she answered, proud of her now-steady voice.

  That made his lips quirk at the corners in a staggeringly handsome way. God, the man was too good-looking for her peace of mind. He had to go. Before she—

  No, he just had to go.

  “I thought I’d made it perfectly clear that I had no wish to see you again. In fact, I never gave you my name.”

  Jared just smiled. “I know that. But I’m happy to report that I have a friend who’s a pretty decent investigator. You’d told me you were an antiques dealer so it became a process of elimination. Next time, maybe you want to pick Mary or Kathy. Belle was just too close to Annabelle.”

  Okay. She could deal with this. She could deal with him knowing her name as Annabelle Elder.

  What she couldn’t deal with was his presence here. In her shop. Her world.