by Anna del Mar
Based on the new information, I’d extended my search to Fairbanks and the Dalton. I’d also had to deal with yet another meltdown from Louise, who now wanted me to file kidnapping charges against Nikolai Golov. Right. Like Tammy had nothing to do with her own disappearance. I’d spent countless hours on the phone, but so far, the weak lead was all I had. Alaska had swallowed my sister.
As the attendant opened the door and helped me out of the car, I fought the surge of nerves that weakened my knees. Talk about being a fish out of water. I didn’t know anybody here. I hoped Seth had already arrived.
I stepped out of the car into a flawless Alaskan day, blue skies, crisp air, and a balmy fifty-eight degrees. Perfect day for a festive luncheon. I joined the steady stream of guests passing through the front doors. An attendant took my coat. I straightened my dress. It was cream lamé embroidered with a blush pattern, with a pleated skirt and a scooped back. Ally and I had paired it with pearl chandelier earrings and nude pumps. I hoped I looked okay.
“Miss Silva?” Robert greeted me.
“Hi, Robert,” I said. “Is Seth here?”
“Not yet, miss, but soon,” he said. “Please, follow me. The mistress will see you now.”
The mistress?
I tripped over my feet. Did he mean Seth’s grandmother, the famous—or infamous, depending who you asked—Astrid Erickson? I had a moment of total panic. Where the hell was Seth when you needed him? Alternatively, how about a stiff drink?
I had a vision of me, shaking off my heels and bolting. Robert must have spotted the impulse in my eyes. He grabbed my elbow and guided me up a majestic set of stairs into an extraordinary room. An enormous bank of windows lined the far wall, overlooking the water and illuminating a massive two-story library, framed by sweeping mahogany balconies.
“Wait here,” Robert said. “The mistress will be with you shortly. Good luck,” he added before he disappeared behind a pair of double doors.
Good luck? Why? Was I going to war? On safari? To the casino?
I swallowed the lump in my throat and studied the library. I didn’t know my art as well as I should, but I was pretty sure that a massive Renoir presided over the huge fireplace, flanked by a wall of European classics, Alaskan landscapes, and Native American art. A collection of fine ceramics adorned the shelves everywhere. Were those original Ming Dynasty? The mounted animal trophy heads added a touch of the macabre to the eclectic decor. Glassy eyes stared down on me with hackle-raising intensity.
The quiet click of a door opening came from upstairs. I looked up. Astrid Erickson stood on one of the balconies, looking down on me.
“Let me see you,” she said, voice tilting with the distant echoes of a Nordic accent. “Step up to the light. Come on, we don’t have all day.”
I walked deeper into the library, until I was able to crane my neck and take in the woman above me. She was tall, almost as tall as me, lean, erect, and strong in contrast to my obviously misguided idea of an octogenarian. A full and fashionably styled silver mane framed a striking face with high cheekbones. She looked stunning in a light blue silk suit that matched her wolfish eyes.
“Not bad,” she said flatly. “I supposed Seth could do better, but I approve of the dress and pearls are always a sensible accessory.”
Wonderful. “Thank you...I think.”
She snapped her fingers. “Devon, Daemon.”
Two Giant Schnauzers galloped out of the shadows, the tallest, blackest dogs I’d ever seen. I might have run, but I’d learned something from my bear encounter. My heart lurched to my throat, but I stood my ground. Ears forward, jaws agape, the dogs circled me like a pair of sharks at sea, sniffing my legs, poking my groin and backside with their enormous muzzles.
The witch on the balcony wanted to see me flinch. I was willing to get bitten by her devil dogs before I let her. “Sit.” I pointed at the floor. “You too.”
Much to my surprise, the dogs obeyed me.
I let out a discreet breath and looked up to the balcony. “Is the test over or will you be bringing in a pack of wolves next? If it’s a grade you’re looking to give me, I prefer questions in written form. Essays are fine, but if you’re pressed for time, multiple choice will do.”
The woman’s mouth lifted at the corners to form the most condescending smile in the history of condescension. “You’re not easily intimidated, are you?”
“Yeah, right,” I mumbled under my breath. “If you want to talk to me you need to come down from your heights. Or else I can come up. Your pick. My neck is killing me.”
Astrid let out a sigh and came down the circular staircase regally, like a woman used to being admired. Her eyes were on me every step of the way. Her heels clicked on the hardwood like a ticking clock. It was unnerving, but I clasped my beaded clutch purse, straightened my back and squared my shoulders. She reached the library’s main floor and sauntered to a paneled wall lined with formal portraits.
“My husband, Olav.” She gestured then moved on to the next two portraits. “My sons, Arthur and Benjamin. Arthur, he found Alice, but Ben, the poor thing, wasn’t so fortunate.”
I took in the pictures on the wall. The Erickson DNA was powerful stuff. It replicated itself with uncanny accuracy from one generation to the next. Arthur and Benjamin could’ve easily been Seth and Jeremy, except for Seth’s eyes. They belonged to the woman on the next portrait, Alice Hallis-Erickson.
“She was the last interesting woman I met.” Astrid contemplated the portrait. “Don’t get me wrong. I’ve met some formidable women in my lifetime. Competent too. But interesting? Not so many.”
The look she gave me implied I was none of those things. I might have said something, but I saw no point in being snarky to Seth’s grandmother. It was an act of pure will, but I kept my eyes on her and my tongue firmly in check.
She sauntered over to the windows and looked down on the people sipping champagne on the lawn. “Why do you think they came here today?”
“Because you invited them?”
“Of course I did.” Her lips flickered with irritation. “But they came as one of two sorts: they’re either spectators or competitors. I’m wondering: Which kind are you?”
I shrugged. “A third kind, maybe? The accidental guest?”
“Really?” Her she-wolf grin said she didn’t believe me. “Do you ski, my dear?”
“Ski?” I’d never had the suicidal inclination of strapping two pieces of wood to my feet and flinging myself off a mountain. “No, there aren’t too many snow-covered slopes in Miami.”
“Do you like to snowshoe?”
“Don’t know,” I said. “Never been.”
“Do you fish, hunt, hike or ice climb?”
“Can’t say I do.”
“I’m an old woman and yet I do all of those things.”
What could I say to that? “Good for you.”
Her eyes mocked me. “I imagine you’re more of an indoor girl. Perhaps clubbing is your thing?”
Christ give me patience. “I like dancing, that’s true, but I also like the beach a lot. I swim, surf, paddleboard, and kayak. Why are you so interested in my hobbies?”
“Oh, no, dear.” She tittered delicately. “I’m not interested in your hobbies at all. I was just assessing if you were Alaska-suitable.”
“Alaska-suitable?”
“I can see you’re the tropical type. I always imagined Seth would go for a local. He himself is so—well, how should I put it?—Alaskan.”
Queen bitch just kept getting bitchier, but by some miracle, I kept my cool. “Is there a point to this conversation?”
“You want a point?” She smiled icily. “Allow me to make a good one: Erickson men don’t fall in love very often. Oh, they like women, don’t get me wrong, and they like sex. Lust, yes, but love? It doesn’t come easy to t
hem.”
Was this woman serious?
“Honestly?” I said. “I don’t want to have any conversation with you that includes the subjects of sex, lust, or love.”
“It’s a pity you don’t pick the themes I wish to discuss.” Smoothing her skirt, Astrid sat on a high-back chair. Queen bitch didn’t offer me a seat. Well, kiss my ass. I squared my shoulders and drew taller. She snapped her fingers again. The dogs ran to her side and huddled at her feet. I wondered if she expected me to do the same.
“Let’s cut to the chase,” she said. “My grandson is not a piggy bank with a nice face. He’s a catch in every sense of the word.”
“Agreed,” I said. “Seth is an amazing human being. That doesn’t mean he doesn’t have his share of seriously freaky hang-ups, like the rest of us. But it does mean that he has a right to his own life and you should stop interfering in his private affairs.”
“I watch after my grandson,” she said briskly. “You need to understand that, if you have the slightest hope of being part of the Erickson family.”
“Woo, whoa, wow.” The room reeled around me like a carousel at high speed. “Lady, are you freaking insane? Who says I want to be part of your seriously fucked-up family? From what I’ve seen so far, I’d rather have my liver eaten by a bear.”
Her eyes widened. “Are you telling me you’re not interested in marrying Seth?”
“Marrying Seth?” She might as well have punched me in the gut. “I don’t want to marry anyone!”
She eyed me skeptically. “Any other woman in the world would jump at the opportunity of securing an Erickson marriage.”
“I guess I’m not any other woman in the world,” I said. “Look, if you have to know, I think the world of Seth. But I’m not looking to marry. Period.”
“But...” She grappled for words. “What about the children?”
“Children?”
“You can’t have legitimate children without a marriage,” she said. “If you are with Seth, we expect you to fulfill your duty and bear offspring in order to continue the Erickson line.”
Oh. My. Freaking. God.
“If you don’t mind,” I said, strangling the purse in my hands. “I’d like to add marriage and children to my list.”
“What list?”
“The list of topics I refuse to discuss with you.”
“But—”
I lifted a hand in the air. “You’ve said your piece, so let me say mine. No wonder your grandson can’t find happiness. No wonder he moved away from this place and lives alone like a hermit. You talk about him as if he was some sort of genetic occurrence instead of his own person. I mean, what woman in her right mind is going to put up with this?”
“Whatever do you mean?”
“This!” I threw my hands up in the air. “You! This conversation?”
“It’s my job to vet my grandson’s suitors.”
“Good luck with that.” I angled for the exit. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to leave, because frankly, Mrs. Erickson, you’re pissing me off.”
“You haven’t been dismissed.”
“Why, I don’t need to.” I marched across the room. “You see, I’m not your servant, your dog, or your family, which you treat all about the same.”
I made my way toward the doors with as much dignity as I could muster. My dad had not fought in a revolution, defied a dictator, clung to a sinking raft for three days and fought off the sharks so that I could roll over and fetch.
I was almost to the doors when they opened and Robert came in.
“Master Erickson has arrived,” he announced formally.
I stopped dead in my tracks. These people really did watch too much Downton Abbey. Sure enough, in strode the source of contention in the flesh, the only man in the world who managed to weaken my knees with a smile. And boy did he test my knees now, not to mention my pumping heart’s endurance.
Wearing a three-piece suit, Seth looked phenomenal. A tailored black jacket with silk lapels fit his body’s fine lines to perfection, showcasing his shoulders’ width. The striped amber-and-brown tie and the silk kerchief peeking from his pocket enhanced the elegant look. A patterned amber vest over a crisp white shirt echoed the gleam in his eyes and the gold in his hair, which had been trimmed and styled away from his clean-shaven face. I had to will my mouth to close.
“Grandma,” he said, but he made a straight line for little old insignificant, DNA deficient, Alaska-unsuitable me.
The world straightened the moment his arms enfolded me. His body’s heat enveloped me in a protective cocoon. I couldn’t remember why I’d been mad or the reason I’d been about to leave Ericksonland. For a full fifteen seconds, I couldn’t even remember my name.
“You look amazing,” he murmured in my ear.
I felt amazing when he held me. “You don’t clean up too badly yourself.”
He knuckled his fresh shave. “Date worthy by the rules?”
“Date perfect.”
He winked at me. “More on that later?”
“Deal.” I locked my wobbly knees and fought an urge to cling to him. “I’ll wait for you outside.”
“No, please, stay.” He led me to a chair, gestured for me to sit down and then went to his grandmother and kissed her on the cheek. “Happy birthday.”
I hadn’t realized that it was Astrid’s birthday today. I felt bad—okay, maybe not bad, but a little naughty. I hadn’t been particularly nice to the birthday girl. But then again, the bitch had made niceties hard the moment she sicced her dogs on me and tried to manhandle me into a conversation I wasn’t ready to have.
Seth took a small bundle from his pocket and, sitting next to Astrid, put it in her hands. I recognized the little package. It was the one Anya had given him the first time we’d gone out to her homestead. I’d been so jealous when I’d thought he had a girlfriend.
Astrid opened the package and gasped. “Is it...?”
“The old man carved it especially for you,” Seth said. “Anya got it during her last visit.”
“That old fox.” Astrid signaled to Robert. “Magnifying glass, please.”
Robert rushed to retrieve it from the desk.
“It’s divine.” She stared through the glass at the miniature totem pole she held between her fingers. “Oh, Seth.” The warmth in her smile shocked me. “This is wonderful, the best birthday present. Thank you so much, dear.”
“You’re very welcome.” He smiled at her in return and I caught a glimpse of the boy he’d once been, of the young man who’d strived to please the demanding grandmother he no doubt adored. Perhaps I’d been too harsh on her. After all, she was his family and he loved her.
“Mistress?” Robert said, after conferring with the attendant who came to the door. “The governor has arrived.”
“In that case,” she said, rising to her feet, “I suppose we should greet said governor.”
She took a moment to find a place for her gift on one of the shelves that held a fine collection of miniature totems. “Perfect,” she said, before she appropriated Seth’s arm.
“Robert?” she added. “Please escort Miss Silva to the hall. Seth and I will attend to the reception line.”
“Summer can stand the hassle.” Seth offered me his other arm. “Will you?”
Astrid’s smile wavered on her lips.
“I don’t want to get in the way.” I took Robert’s arm. “I’ll just mosey around, make new friends.”
“Are you sure?” Seth said. “You’re welcome to stand with me.”
“I’m sure.” I conceded the small victory to the birthday girl. “See you later, alligator.”
His smile tampered with my knees. “That’s a promise.”
* * *
The party was in full swing. Cock
tails were served in the main hall, an atrium that spanned the entire length of the house and opened up to the expansive veranda. There must have been a thousand people in the lavish mansion and the gardens. Armed with a watered-down mimosa, I found a secluded corner that allowed me a good view of the reception line and settled down for a hearty session of people watching.
What the hell was I doing here, so far away from home, surrounded by such a dazzling display of wealth, fashion, and power, in an environment that defied the little I’d known about Alaska prior to my arrival?
My eyes fell on Seth, who’d turned on the charm and was enthralling his guests like a battle-seasoned veteran of the social scene. He had so many facets to his personality. He could morph on the spot, from CEO to pilot, from soldier to civilian, from hermit to socialite, from business genius to family man, to just my guy.
My guy?
I choked on the damn mimosa. I slapped my chest until I stopped coughing. The way I felt about Seth frightened me. I’d fallen for him too fast. It wasn’t like me. I’d always been cautious and, after my disastrous marriage, I hadn’t expected to find someone who could accept me with my hang-ups. Someone who despite my inconvenient disorder, I could trust. I’d come to Alaska looking for Tammy. I hadn’t found her yet, but I’d collided with Seth.
“Excuse me?” A young man with gray eyes, a freckled face, and two glasses in hand interrupted my thoughts. “Are you Summer?”
“I am,” I said. “Who might you be?”
“I’m Stuart.” He offered me a fresh mimosa. “Ally’s husband?”
“Ah, yes, Stuart, the doctor from Texas. Nice to meet you.” I set my empty glass on the windowsill and accepted the drink. “Perfect timing.”