by Cindy Dees
Natalie sighed. “They’re confused. They don’t understand why Mommy won’t come play with them. But thankfully they’re too young to really understand what happened. Maybe it was a blessing in disguise that she didn’t spend all that much time with them.”
Silver nodded on cue, but she made another silent vow. No way was her baby growing up with an absentee mother too caught up in partying and living large to spend time with him or her. She was going to change diapers and do 2 a.m. feedings and pace the floors with colic…the whole nine yards. She was going to be there for her baby. It was a tragedy that Candace’s toddler boys would never know their mother—no matter how flawed and distant she might have been.
Before she could wax any more maudlin and start boohooing, Austin returned with her club soda. She sipped at it while Austin and Matt sorted out exactly what sort of military man Austin was and then made small talk about their favorite guns. She was saved from the technical details of some newfangled pistol that both men were excited over by the butler stepping into the billiard room to announce that dinner was served.
Rebecca, looking stunning in emerald satin next to Harold, said dramatically, “Oh dear. Conner’s not back from the police station with the Tears of the Quetzal yet. But dinner mustn’t get cold.”
Harold solved her dilemma brusquely. “If he can’t fetch a simple ring in two hours, that irresponsible boy can eat his supper cold.”
Silver’s mouth twitched. Conner was thirty-four years old and a highly regarded criminal attorney. Hardly a boy, and definitely not irresponsible. Of all her various Rothchild cousins, he was perhaps her favorite.
Austin murmured sotto voce in her ear, “You do realize I’m never going to get everyone in your family straight, don’t you?”
Her pulse leapt at the intimacy of his nearness, familiar and protective at the same time. She was tempted to crawl inside his shirt then and there. Whatever woman this man eventually gave his heart to was going to be one lucky lady, indeed. She sighed. What she wouldn’t give to be that woman. She’d never met another man even remotely like him.
“Never fear. I can barely keep them all straight, and I’ve lived with them for twenty years,” she muttered back.
The smile he flashed her all but melted her shoes off her feet. Lord, that man was sexy. Sheesh. He had to stop doing that or she’d never make it through supper.
“Doing what?” he murmured as the family commenced heading toward the exit.
She jolted. Had she said that aloud? Apparently. In a millisecond, panic flashed through her head. Should she play it safe or throw caution to the wind? What the heck.
She replied under her breath. “You have to stop smiling at me. Just think how scandalized the family will be if I have to throw you down on the dining room table and have my way with you between the main course and dessert?”
A grin spread across his handsome face. “I dunno. They look like they could use some shaking up.”
She suppressed a laugh. “Believe me. You don’t want to be around when Harold gets wound up. His temper is legendary.”
“Being ravished by you would be worth it.”
Her jaw dropped.
Austin pasted on a bland look, offered her his elbow formally and proceeded to decorously lead her into the dining room. Not a single decorous thought rattled around in her head as they filed down the long hall.
The grandkids and nieces and nephews materialized noisily from upstairs, and the entire bunch trooped into the dining room.
Silver was pleased to see Austin’s place card beside hers. She started to reach for her chair but caught the glare Austin threw her and let her hands drop. As he stepped forward to pull it out for her, his hand came to rest on the small of her back, a fraction lower than was polite. His fingertips hovered just above the crevice of her buttocks, scorching her through the thin silk of her dress.
As she sank into her chair, grateful that her legs hadn’t given out before she was seated, her father glanced down the long table and made eye contact with her. She smiled carefully, doing her darnedest to hide just how flustered she was.
No matter how hard she tried to stay mad at Austin for announcing that he would eventually leave her, she couldn’t do it. His mere touch had her all but hyperventilating with lust. She glanced sideways at him as he took his place beside her.
A private smile for her glowed in his rich, green eyes as he glanced back at her. Almost as if he knew and relished the effect he had on her.
Oh, yes. A girl could definitely get used to having a man like him around. Too bad that was the one thing he’d promised he couldn’t give her. The whole falling for someone just in time to get dumped bit sucked rocks. And she ought to know. She was the queen of getting dumped.
She made it through the salad course okay, but when the butler served her a plate of lamb chops, quivering green mint jelly and baby vegetables smothered in some kind of sauce, her stomach gave an ominous heave. She picked up her knife and fork and commenced picking at the sumptuous meal in a halfhearted effort to look like she was actually eating the too-rich food.
Her father boomed from the end of the table, “So, Silver, I hear you visited the Grand Theater today.”
Oh, God. What else had he heard? Had someone felt obliged to tell him about her fainting episode? The last thing she needed was for him to decide she wasn’t up to doing a show. She gulped and replied, “Uh, that’s right. I love the improvements you’ve made to the stage. The digital lighting system is incredible.”
“It ought to be. It cost me a bloody fortune. Saul said you ran through a few of your old tunes. How did that go?”
With an apologetic glance at Austin, Silver opened her mouth to utter a bald-faced lie, but a commotion in the doorway distracted everyone. Her cousin, Conner, burst into the room like a minor tornado.
“It was stolen! Right out of the police evidence locker! The Tears of the Quetzal!”
Silver’s jaw dropped as her gaze skittered to her father. The Tears of the Quetzal was Harold’s pride and joy. Her father swelled up like an angry puffer fish before he finally bellowed, “Whaaat?”
Conner continued, agitated, “They said a man in a police uniform signed it out of the evidence locker earlier today. It was signed back in just a few minutes before I got there to pick it up. Except a paste copy got left in its place.”
Silver started as Conner dropped a heavy ring onto the table in front of Harold. Her father picked it up and examined it closely.
Conner went on. “They’re reviewing the security videos to see if they can get an image of the guy. But it’s gone. The Tears of the Quetzal has been stolen again.”
Harold swore violently and flung the piece of jewelry the length of the dining room. Thankfully, his aim was true and he didn’t bean any of the children seated at the far end of the table with it. The heavy ring slammed into a delicate porcelain vase, which toppled off the buffet and crashed to the floor, exploding into a hundred pieces.
Heavy silence fell over the room.
Rebecca finally broke the frozen vignette, suggesting in a soothing voice, “Why don’t we retire to the library and discuss this more calmly.”
Silver was surprised. Normally, Rebecca wasn’t exactly the Rothchild she’d expect to be a pillar of strength in a crisis. But her stepmother’s uncharacteristic calm seemed to penetrate Harold’s rage, and he simmered down enough to shove back his chair and storm out of the room. Conner followed on Harold’s heels, while the others trickled out more reluctantly. Austin gestured her subtly to remain seated until most of the others had left the room. As a result, the two of them were the last to leave.
Austin paused beside the shattered vase, bending down and scooping up the fake ring out of the shards of porcelain. “How did Harold recognize that this is a copy?”
“I don’t know. Lemme see.”
He handed her the piece, which had similar heft and weight to the original. The chameleon stone was priceless, shifting in color from purp
le to green and back again based on its temperature. It was the largest of its type in the world, a one-of-a-kind piece. She turned the stone, studying as it threw off the same peculiar lavender light of the original diamond.
“It’s really quite a good copy. It captures the resting color of the original to a tee.”
“Resting color?”
“Yes. When this stone is heated up, it turns a brilliant green for several hours. In that state, it’s slightly darker than a typical emerald, close to…say…a green tourmaline in color. They’re ferociously rare. Hence their value.”
“And hence the reason it was stolen, I gather?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know why someone would steal it. The stone’s so unique you’d have a heck of a time fencing it without getting caught. And I can’t imagine too many collectors wanting to risk the wrath of Harold Rothchild to possess the thing for themselves. If Dad ever found out anyone had it…”
Austin nodded and finished for her. “They’d wish they’d never laid eyes on the rock. Never steal from a man with the means and capacity to make you pay for it in blood.”
“You’ve got it.” She slipped the ring on and held it out to study it at arm’s length. She frowned at a faint roughness against her flesh. She took it off to peer inside the band. “See this jeweler’s mark inside the band? The original’s band is completely smooth and has no markings inside it.”
Examining the jeweler’s mark closely, Austin murmured, “Do you know if Harold had a copy made of the ring at some point?”
She nodded. “I believe there is one. My father kept the original under lock and key, refusing any of us access to it.”
“How come?” he asked curiously.
She rolled her eyes. “He believes there’s some crazy curse attached to it.”
“Excuse me?” he asked, his right eyebrow creeping up.
“According to Mayan legend, the Tears of the Quetzal is supposed to bring true love to anyone who possesses it.”
“Doesn’t sound like much of a curse to me,” he mused wryly.
“There’s more to it than that,” Silver explained. “You see, if the ring falls into the wrong hands, misfortune is sure to follow.” She took a deep breath. “Two months ago Candace was wearing the Tears when she was killed. The killer stole it.” She sighed. “So of course my father now believes that the curse came true.”
Austin stared at her, suddenly comprehending. “So that’s why your family suspected right away that she was murdered. Let me guess. You’ve kept this theft from the press to help the police investigation, too?”
She nodded. “But I can’t imagine Harold cooperating too much more now that the police have lost the ring again. He’s going to have a stroke if the police don’t get it back. He went completely nuts when it was stolen the first time. When he wasn’t ranting about catching Candace’s killer, he was raving about getting the diamond back.”
Austin peered inside the ring’s band again, before passing it back to Silver. “Whoever made this fake sure knew what they were doing. Is this perchance the copy your father had made?”
“I don’t know. You’d have to ask Rebecca. I expect the copy would be in her jewelry box, or maybe in the safe upstairs.” She studied the stone again. “It really is a remarkable copy. If all of the Rothchilds hadn’t grown up knowing every intricate detail about the original ring, we wouldn’t have known the difference.”
“That’s probably what the thief was counting on,” he said. “He probably won’t expect the copy to be discovered for several days at a minimum, which would give him plenty of time to get away with the real one.”
She shivered. “I guess we’re not dealing with your run-of-the-mill jewel thief.”
“You’ve got that right.” Austin’s eyes darkened. “Call me paranoid, but the timing of the murder, theft and that threatening letter your father got seem suspicious to me. There’s no doubt in my mind that someone’s out to get ole Harold.”
“But why do you believe that he’s the specific target?”
Austin stared down at her grimly. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but wouldn’t his daughter and this fabled diamond be two of his greatest treasures?”
She gulped, realizing where his logic was leading. “You think Candace’s death and the theft of the diamond were acts of vengeance against my father?”
Austin shrugged. “Or acts of rage.” He escorted her out of the dining room and into the hallway where Natalie and Matt, last in the line of family members, were just disappearing into the library. He looked down at her thoughtfully. “Why did you mention vengeance specifically?”
“The letters said the writer was going to get even with the Rothchilds for wronging his family.”
He nodded slowly. “It fits. And now, according to our lunatic killer’s message in your dressing room, you’re next on the list of precious things he’s planning to take from Harold.”
The thought that Austin was right shuddered through her.
“Did you have to remind me? Now I’ll never get to sleep tonight!”
His mouth quirked into that boyish smile that made her toes want to wiggle. “One of the rules in my unit is that if you cause a problem, you’re in charge of fixing it. I guess I’ll have to help you get to sleep tonight, then.”
Okay, that tied her toes right up in tight little knots of anticipation. She could so go for more of the same from last night. She could go for more of that every night for a long time to come. But it wasn’t in the cards for her. He was leaving, and she’d be an idiot to get more attached to him than she already was. As it was, she couldn’t imagine how empty her life was going to seem without him at her side around the clock.
Reluctantly, she replied, “Thanks, but no thanks.”
The light left his gaze abruptly. She physically felt his emotional withdrawal from her, as sharp as a knife to her own gut.
She was such an idiot. She should’ve thought before she blurted out a flat refusal of his offer. He deserved an explanation at the least, but she couldn’t exactly give him one in front of her assembled family. She tried to stop in the hall where they still had a modicum of privacy. Tried to tell him why she was turning him down. But he put a firm hand in the middle of her back and bodily propelled her forward. Obviously, the man didn’t want to talk.
With her heels all but skidding along the marble floor, they rounded the corner into the library, a vaulted space filled with carved stone and floor-to-ceiling shelves of leather-bound books no one had ever read. Austin might be stronger than her, darn it, but he wasn’t more stubborn. She owed him an explanation, and he was going to get it whether he wanted it or not. Now.
“Austin—”
“Not now.”
“But—”
“No.” She had no idea how he managed to make a single whispered syllable into a sharp command she had no desire to disobey.
Irritated enough to draw a little blood, she muttered, “Fine. Be that way. But if Mark found out we spent another night together, he’d kill you.”
Austin sighed as if he knew it for the taunt it was and finally looked down fully at her. “And how would he find out? I bloody well wouldn’t tell him. I told you. Your secrets are safe with me. Would you tell him about us?”
Her female instincts fired strong and clear. He was testing her. Checking to see if she’d slept with him because she liked him or just to get Mark’s goat. So Austin was human after all. Sometimes she wondered.
In response to his question, she snorted. “Why would I say anything to Mark about us? It’s none of his business. Besides, I’m not in the habit of waving red flags in front of bulls. His temper scares me.”
Austin stopped dead in his tracks. He stared down at her in what she would swear was satisfaction tinged with relief.
Then he leaned in so close that her breath caught in her throat and he whispered in her ear, “Don’t worry anymore about Mark blowing up. If Bubba ever tries to tangle with you again, he’ll have me to answer to.
And I promise you, he’ll be so dead so fast he’ll never know what hit him.”
The sexy heat of his breath on her skin distracted her so completely that she barely registered his words. But then she jerked back, stunned by the casual threat in Austin’s voice. “You can’t kill him!”
Austin straightened up, a fake smile pasted on his face as a few heads turned their way. Behind it he growled, “Why the hell not? I’ve never met a guy more deserving, if for no other reason than the good of the human gene pool.”
Panic climbed the walls of her stomach. “I’m serious, Austin. Don’t you hurt him. I need him—” She broke off, appalled at what she’d almost revealed.
“What the hell for?” Austin burst out, abruptly drawing the attention of the rest of her family.
“Hush,” she muttered urgently. “Can we talk about this later? Not here?”
“Promise?”
“Sure. I promise. Just please smile nicely and change the subject.”
“All right.” He added darkly under his breath, “But I’m holding you to that.”
The next hour was a trial, listening to her father bluster about what he planned to do if he ever caught up with the bastard who’d stolen the Tears of the Quetzal not once but twice.
Austin and Matt agreed that the thief in both cases was probably the same guy. And that idea made her intensely nervous. What thief robbed the same victim twice? That spoke of the rage and vengeance Austin had mentioned earlier. Surely, any sane thief would cut his losses and run after losing the ring the first time.
Thankfully, Austin didn’t bring up the scrawled message on her dressing room mirror, and word of it seemed—miraculously—not to have reached Harold’s ears yet. Of course, it was only a matter of time before her father found out about it from the hotel security staff and had a conniption. She’d just have to convince him that Austin was good enough at his job so she could go on with her show anyway. Piece of cake. Not.
“Will Harold be mad if we slip out of here early?” Austin murmured.