Gilded Secrets

by Maureen Child

  “You do.” Katie shook her head slowly. “But Jake’s going to grow up eventually. He’ll go out and get a life and you’ll be alone.”

  Charlie choked out a laugh. “I think I’ve got a few years before I have to think about getting a cat to keep me company.”

  “Okay, you’re right about that,” she admitted. “But my point is, if you don’t start living a little now, by the time you think you’re finally ready? It’ll be too late.”

  Maybe she had a point. And maybe Charlie just wanted Katie to have a point. She was falling again. Just as fast and hard as she had for Jake’s father.

  That relationship had turned out to be nothing more than smoke and mirrors. Could she really risk more pain? Then, remembering that kiss and how the warm summer breeze had wrapped itself around the two of them under the shade of that willow, she asked herself if she could really walk away.

  * * *

  Kendra Darling guarded Ann Richardson’s office like a well-dressed, charming dragon. Her hazel eyes were sharp behind tortoiseshell glasses and her shoulder-length, straight red hair was pulled back in a no-nonsense gold clip at the nape of her neck. She smiled as Vance approached. No one got past Kendra if they weren’t expected. Not even a senior board member.

  “Mr. Waverly,” Kendra said with a brief nod, “Ms. Richardson is expecting you.”

  “Thanks.” He walked past her desk, then paused for a quick look back. Kendra had been here for several years, he reminded himself. Who would know their secrets better? Then he discounted the notion entirely. After all, he’d suspected Charlie and there hadn’t been anything to it. And Kendra was loyal to the bone. For all he knew, the traitor—if there was one—could be one of the old guard. He took a moment to imagine George, Simon or one of the society ladies on the board sending threatening emails to Charlie. Or stealing information and passing it on to Dalton.

  “Is there something else, Mr. Waverly?”

  He met Kendra’s inquiring gaze and shook his head. “No, everything’s fine. Thanks.”

  Vance dismissed his imaginings as wildly improbable. It was going to take time to find whoever was trying to sink Waverly’s. It wouldn’t be easy and it wouldn’t be pleasant. But he would uncover what was happening here.

  Opening the door, he stepped inside.

  Ann Richardson’s icy-cool exterior was nowhere to be seen. She was pacing her office in brisk strides, all the while staring down at a sheaf of papers she held in her hands. A smile curved her mouth and even from across the room, Vance could see the gleam of excitement glittering in her eyes when she looked up as he walked in.

  “Vance! Good. Have you talked to Roark?”

  “Two days ago, why?” She’d brought him here to talk about his brother?

  “Then you don’t know. Even better. I want to see your reaction. See if it’s anything like mine.”

  He didn’t have time for games. He needed to get back to Charlie. Look at the emails from her blackmailer. Kiss her again. Scowling at the wayward thought, he focused on Ann. Confusion settled down in him and he didn’t like it. “What’re you talking about, Ann?”

  “This.” She walked to him and held out the papers. He took them and swiftly scanned the few lines of text before concentrating on the pictures.

  “Is this what I think it is?” he asked, lifting his gaze to hers.

  “If you’re thinking it’s the Rayas collection, including the Gold Heart statue,” she whispered almost reverently, “then yes. It is.”

  “But it’s been missing for more than a hundred years,” Vance murmured, gaze dragging up and down the photo of the statue.

  “Roark found it,” Ann told him, with barely restrained glee. “Honestly, your brother can be hard to deal with and even harder to keep track of, but he makes some truly miraculous finds for the house.”

  Miraculous. Exactly what tracking down this piece of art was. Stunned, Vance stared down at the photo of the famed statue. Everyone who lived and worked in the fine art world knew the story of the lost statue from the Middle Eastern kingdom of Rayas.

  One of only three in existence, each of the statues was a woman, two feet high, her heart etched and inlaid in gold. The pedestal the female figure stood on was an inch-thick block of pure gold and stamped with a unique seal. Legend said that centuries ago, the king of Rayas commissioned three Gold Heart statues, one for each of his daughters, to bring them luck in love.

  The daughters were lucky, as were all the generations to follow—as long as the statues remained in their respective palaces. One of the three matching works belonged to the family of Sheikh Raif Khouri, another still graced the palace of the original family to inherit it. And about a century ago, the third statue went missing—presumed to have been either stolen—or sold by a member of the family. Either way, without the statue in the palace, that branch of the family met with heartache, disaster and eventually died out altogether. Which made a man put a little more faith in the strength of a legend.

  But for this Gold Heart to suddenly turn up as part of the collection was damn irregular. Where had it come from? How had his brother found it? And why hadn’t he told Vance?

  They’d spoken only two days ago, so he must have had a line on the statue then. Why wouldn’t he have mentioned it? Frowning now, Vance asked, “Roark sent these photos to you?”

  “Just got them this morning by fax.” She grabbed the top paper back and skimmed over the full-color picture. “Gorgeous. Just gorgeous. And Waverly’s has it.”

  This was huge. Vance stared down at the paper she’d left him with and examined photos of three of the other items that would be included in the auction. He felt a satisfied, proud smile crease his face. Roark had done it. He’d secured the most sought-after auction items in the world at a time when Waverly’s really needed the good press. It was a gift, he thought. A damn timely one.

  “Where’s the statue itself?” he asked.

  Ann looked up at him and blinked as if she had to refocus her mind. And who could blame her? Things had been tense and ugly here for a couple of weeks and this news could change everything. For Ann as well as for the house.

  “He locked it in his overseas vault. It’s safe until he can bring it back home. But he’s authenticated it, Vance. There’s no mistake. This is the missing Gold Heart.”

  He nodded.

  “I want to announce this to the press,” Ann said. “But before I do, I wanted your take on it. We can’t afford any mistakes about this. Once the Gold Heart acquisition is announced, we’re putting Waverly’s reputation on the line.”

  Vance knew what she was talking about. If it turned out that the statue was a copy or something even worse, it would shatter the house. They were already under siege and couldn’t afford any more bad press.

  Looking at Ann, he said, “You know as well as I do that Roark knows his stuff. No one else on this planet has his kind of instincts—or his knowledge of antiquities. If he says it’s real, then it is.”

  His brother had the unerring ability to locate treasures that others either overlooked or missed completely. Roark had an encyclopedic knowledge of the weird and the unique. He had managed to acquire collections for the house that no one else would have been able to procure.

  She let out a relieved sigh. “That’s exactly how I felt about it. I just needed that feeling verified. God, Vance. Do you know what this will mean for Waverly’s?”

  “I do. It’s an amazing find and right when we need it the
most.”

  Ann sent him a quick look. “It’s been rough, I know. But this will turn things around.”

  “Undoubtedly,” he agreed. “But why the hell did Roark leave something this valuable overseas? Why not bring it home right away?”

  Ann waved that question aside, but said simply, “He didn’t have time. After his stop in the Middle East, he was on his way to the Amazon, for some top secret meeting with another one of his contacts. If he’d taken the time to bring the Rayas treasures home, he might have lost out on the next acquisition.”

  Vance still didn’t like it. The Gold Heart was legendary. Collectors all over the world had been looking for this missing statue for more than a century. Leaving it in a vault, no matter how safe, was taking a risk. “When will he be back?”

  “I’m not sure,” Ann said, still smiling down at the photo she held in her hand. “He said he might run into some trouble with his latest quest.”

  “Trouble? What kind of trouble?”

  “He didn’t say.”

  His brother didn’t say much, dammit. If he was expecting trouble, then Vance wanted to know about it. “Well, what the hell is he after in the Amazon?”

  “He didn’t tell me that, either.” Lifting her gaze to his, Ann said, “Roark doesn’t exactly keep us in the loop when he’s on one of his trips. You know that yourself, Vance. And you just admitted that no one is better than Roark at what he does.”

  “Yeah,” he muttered. “Doesn’t mean I like it.”

  “Forget about everything else for a second, Vance. Don’t you see what this means for us? At auction, the Gold Heart could bring in as much as 200 million. Maybe more. And that’s not even taking into account the rest of the collection, which is pretty extraordinary.”

  “I know, Ann.” Still, he had a bad feeling. Maybe it was the fact that he’d been steeped in a morass of suspicion for the past couple of weeks. But his internal alarms were ringing. Oh, not about the statue. As he’d told Ann, he had no doubts about its authenticity. If Roark gave his approval, that was good enough for Vance. But why now? Didn’t it seem just a little bit coincidental that the one thing that could pull Waverly’s out of this mess just happened to show up at the perfect time?

  “It isn’t just the sale itself that will do a world of good for us. With all that’s going on right now,” Ann was saying, “this is just the big news we needed. The fact that Waverly’s acquired this statue to sell at auction is the kind of cachet you can’t buy.

  “We’ll be above reproach and no rumors will be able to touch us. Any of us. This will push all speculation out of the paper. When word of this gets out, no one will be talking about anything beyond the fact that Waverly’s is the top auction house in the world. Let’s see Dalton try to pull something now.” She whispered that last part and Vance shot her a look.

  Was there more to the rumors about Ann and Dalton than she was saying? She’d denied it all to the board, but that didn’t mean she was telling the truth. Of course she would lie to save her ass—the question was, would she sell out Waverly’s to do it?

  He didn’t think so, but the woman was clearly on the raw edge of emotional meltdown. Her usually cool, dispassionate gaze was fired with an excitement he hadn’t seen in her before.

  Maybe it wasn’t only Charlie dealing with threats from an unknown source. Maybe Ann was doing battle with a few demons of her own.

  * * *

  “That’s all of them?”

  Charlie turned her head to look at Vance. He was crouched beside her office chair, studying the emails she’d pulled up on her computer screen. The heat of his body, so close to hers, went straight to her head and clouded all rational thought. It was a wonder she remembered to breathe.

  He glanced at her and must have seen something in her expression because his brown eyes darkened and those gold flecks seemed to shine more brightly. “You keep looking at me that way and we’re not going to get anything done.”

  “Sorry,” she said and unbelievably enough felt a blush burst onto her cheeks. At least, she assumed she was blushing. Her face felt hot and she was mortified. Idiot, she told herself firmly. He’s trying to help you. The least you could do is remain coherent. “Yes, that’s all the emails. Well, except for the one I got this morning.”

  “You got another one?” His tone was as sharp as a knife. “Pull it up.”

  She hadn’t wanted to show him this one, which was just stupid, since she’d told him everything else. But this email was darker. Scarier. Heck, she didn’t want to read it again herself. But she clicked on the message and when it popped open, her gaze went right to the bold-faced type.

  No more stalling. Give me what I want or you lose the kid. I know where you live. I know your secrets. I’m through screwing around with you. Contact me by five p.m. tomorrow.

  “Son of a bitch,” Vance muttered through gritted teeth. “Have you answered him?”

  “Yes,” she said. “Right after the first threat came in, I tried to make him tell me who he was. Naturally, he wouldn’t. And when I got this note this morning, I sent him an email trying to stall for time. I didn’t hear back from him. But I don’t know what to do. I can’t steal from Waverly’s and if I tell him that, I might lose my son—”

  “You won’t lose Jake.”

  “I can’t risk it,” Charlie said and even the distraction of having Vance’s face so close to hers wasn’t enough to ease the panic inside her. “I have to do something.”

  He nodded, his gaze fixed again on the email. “He knows where you live.”

  “Yeah, I saw that.” She rubbed her hands up and down her forearms in an attempt to ease back the chill snaking through her. It didn’t help. It was creepy enough to get emails. To know that he could show up at her apartment was downright terrifying. “It’s scary to think he’s watching me.”

  “Yeah, well, he’s done watching you.”

  “I don’t know how I can stop him.”

  “I do,” Vance said, his voice low and dark. “You and Jake are moving in with me for a while.”

  Charlie just stared at him. Impossible, her mind was shouting. Woo-hoo, her body screamed. And somewhere in the middle Charlie tried to make sense of what he’d just said. But nothing came to her.

  “I can’t let you do that.” She shook her head firmly, coming down on the side of reason instead of listening to her body’s urging.

  “You’re not letting me do anything,” he told her. “Decision’s made.”

  “Excuse me?” Her spine went as stiff as a poker and her chin lifted. Locking her gaze on his, she didn’t back down an inch from the steel she saw shining in his eyes. “I don’t take orders from you—” She caught herself and thought about that for a second, then amended, “Well, all right, I do, since you’re my boss, but you can’t order me to do this.”

  An impatient sigh shot from his throat. “Charlie, do you want Jake to be safe?”

  “Of course I do. What a ridiculous question.”

  “Then you’re moving in with me, because this guy—” he stabbed one finger at the computer screen “—knows where you live. That means neither you nor Jake is safe.”

  She didn’t want to be Vance Waverly’s good deed for the year. Didn’t want to be so pathetic that she needed a big, strong man to come riding to her rescue, for pity’s sake. Then she silently admitted that she also didn’t want to go home alone and worry about some nameless, faceless threat. She could stay with Katie, but her friend’s apartment was smal
ler than Charlie’s and she didn’t want to risk endangering Katie, either.

  Should she do it? Should she risk moving in with her boss? Even to keep her son safe, was it the smart thing to do? She looked into Vance’s eyes and read the grim determination there. Mistake, she told herself. This was probably a huge mistake. But try as she might, she couldn’t think of a logical reason to say no.

  Nine

  Vance insisted that they take part of the afternoon off and move her and Jake into his condo. With the baby at Waverly’s day-care facility, Charlie got them both settled at Vance’s place.

  Her first look at his home was enough to convince her that this was a bad idea. She could have plopped her entire apartment into just the living room of Vance’s penthouse and still have room left over. One entire length of the condo was a wall of tinted glass overlooking the Hudson River. Pleasure crafts and bright yellow kayaks, looking like fallen crayons, floated on the deep-blue water, and Charlie could only guess that the view of city lights at night would be stupendous.

  The great room had been decorated by an expert so that it was starkly beautiful and about as kid-friendly as a set of steak knives. There were black leather chairs and couches gathered into a conversation area and another set of matching pieces in front of a now-empty hearth. Black lacquered tables stood on tile floors dotted with what looked like expensive rugs. Lamps that looked more like modern art than anything else were staggered around the room.

  “See,” he said, spreading his arms wide, “plenty of room.”

  “For me and an army,” she whispered as she followed Vance down a hallway that led to three bedrooms. She glanced in at the master suite as they passed, and her heart did a quick jolt when she saw his bed, huge and inviting, with a dark blue duvet and a mountain of pillows stacked against a black headboard.

  “You really like black, don’t you?” she commented.

  He looked down at her and shrugged. “It goes with everything. Or so the decorator told me.”