Unfortunately, she couldn’t ask her mother anything until she’d recovered the Ghost and returned it to the vault at Blackthorne Abbey.
She felt Joe’s hand on her thigh and realized he expected her to take advantage of the opportunity he’d given her to question her aunt. She included both Gabe and her aunt in her gaze as she asked, “What brings you two to Rome?”
They both answered at the same time. And gave two different answers.
Chapter Fifteen
Joe’s leg was killing him, but it had been worth it to hold Lydia close as they danced. He hadn’t meant to tell her how much he wanted—needed—to put himself inside her, but he wasn’t sorry about that, either. If she had a stitch on under that form-fitting dress, he’d eat a rattlesnake raw. His mind’s eye had provided an exquisite picture of her stark naked, and it took all his willpower to resist the urge to throw her over his shoulder and haul her off to one of the rooms upstairs.
He smiled wryly. That would be some trick. His bad leg had already proved it wasn’t up to the task, and it was throbbing right now like it might explode. He stared at the champagne flute and the empty wine glass stationed next to his plate and realized he needed something stronger to assuage the pain, or he wasn’t going to make it through the evening.
He was summoning a waiter when Lydia asked Gabe and his mother what they were doing in Rome, but his attention swerved back to the two thieves when they gave two different answers to her question.
“We’re on holiday,” Alicia said.
“We’re looking at investment opportunities,” Gabe said.
Joe had to give Alicia credit. She didn’t even glance at Gabe as she produced a feline smile and said, “Well, I’m on holiday. My son is the one who insists on making it a working vacation.” Then she looked Joe in the eye and added, “I didn’t realize Lydia had a private investigator working for her.”
“Not for her,” Joe corrected. “With her.”
Alicia gave Lydia a baleful look. “Where did you meet this fellow?”
Lydia wasn’t nearly as good at lying as her aunt was. Her gaze shot away from Alicia for a second, a dead giveaway that whatever she said next was pure fiction. When Lydia finally made eye contact with her aunt, she said, “Joe is a friend of one of my American cousins.”
Joe felt a jolt of alarm, because he had no idea who Lydia’s American cousins were, although Alicia surely must. His sister had given him a rundown on all the supposed players in this little drama, but Lydia’s American relations hadn’t been mentioned.
“We ran into each other at that masquerade ball held earlier this week,” Joe said. “It turned out we had Lydia’s American cousin—and a desire to play private detective—in common.”
“Didn’t I see you there?” Lydia asked Gabe.
Gabe looked startled but said nothing.
“I was sure it was you,” Lydia persisted with a smile meant to disarm him.
Gabe’s eyes narrowed to slits. “How did you know it was me? We were all masked. And why didn’t you say hello?”
Joe waited to see how Lydia was going to get herself out of the hole she’d dug. She’d already admitted to Joe that she couldn’t have recognized her cousin’s voice, and if Gabe pressed, she wouldn’t be able to describe his mask or costume, either. More to the point, if she’d recognized him, why hadn’t she acknowledged him?
She reached out and laid a hand on Gabe’s arm, ramped up the wattage on her smile, and said, “You’re taller than just about anyone I know, and you have the same habit as Oliver.”
“What’s that?” Gabe asked.
“I don’t know how to describe it, exactly,” she said. “It’s the way you stand with your feet widespread and your shoulders back, as though you own the world.” She laughed, a tinkling sound that send a shiver of sexual awareness racing down Joe’s spine.
Joe saw Gabe stiffen, as though he knew exactly what Lydia meant, which suggested that she might actually have noted his presence at the event.
“I didn’t say hello to you because I was busy flirting with Joe.” Lydia removed her hand from Gabe’s sleeve and twined her fingers with Joe’s.
“Was that your mother’s necklace I saw around your throat?” Gabe asked, conceding by his question that he’d not only been there but had noticed Lydia. “The Ghost, I think it’s called.”
Joe felt Lydia’s fingernails dig into his palm as Gabe ventured further into the risky game they were playing.
“Why, yes, it was,” Lydia replied.
Joe could see her pulse racing in her throat and wondered whether she was going to admit that the Ghost had been stolen.
Lydia stepped back from the brink, saying instead, “I plan to wear it to another event next week.”
“Which event is that?” Alicia asked.
“The World Health Gala,” Lydia said.
Alicia smiled, but there was nothing friendly in the expression. “I would love to see the Ghost again. It’s been years since your mother wore it.”
“You should come,” Lydia said. “I’m sure I could get you an invitation.”
“I’ll let you know if I can fit it into my schedule.” Alicia rose and said, “I think I’ll take a look at the items up for bid at the silent auction.” She focused her gaze on her son and added, “I believe there were a couple of items you were interested in, Gabe. Will you join me?”
“Of course, Mother,” Gabe said, standing and offering his mother his arm.
Joe watched them until they were out of hearing and then said to Lydia, “What was it you hoped to gain by telling Gabe you saw him at the event where the Ghost was stolen?”
“I got him to admit he was there,” Lydia said.
“To what purpose?”
Lydia withdrew her hand from his, and Joe immediately felt the loss. She raised her chin and said, “I want him to know that I know that he took it.”
“That’s just going to make him more careful.”
“On the other hand, he might do something rash,” Lydia countered. “Like lead us to wherever he’s hiding the Ghost.”
Joe had been talking to Lydia, but he’d been watching Alicia and Gabe. “You just might be right.”
“What?”
“They’re leaving the ballroom. Come on, let’s go.”
Joe slid his arm around Lydia’s waist as they headed for the door. She frowned at him, but he merely tightened his grip.
“If we’re going to be moving fast—”
“You need the support” she finished for him. “This is ridiculous. Why won’t you use a cane?”
He didn’t answer her because the answer was obvious. A cane meant he was no longer a whole man. A cane meant giving up and giving in. He wasn’t a quitter. Never had been, never would be. “What if I told you I’m happy for any excuse to put my arm around you?”
She laughed, and he felt his body tighten in response to the enchanting sound.
“I’ve never met anyone so . . .”
“Honest?” he supplied.
“Blunt,” she corrected. “It’s disconcerting.”
“No one bothers to tell you the truth?”
She raised a brow. “I’m beginning to wonder.” Her gaze remained focused on her aunt and her cousin as they headed for the door to the ballroom. She led the way, moving fast enough that Joe’s leg protested by amping up the pain. He gritted his teeth and kept moving.
They both came to a jolting stop when a tall man with silver threads in his black hair stepped right in front of her so abruptly that she ran right into him.
Joe grabbed Lydia possessively around the waist and glowered at the intruder. “Back off.”
The man looked shocked for a moment, then surveyed Joe keenly with a gaze as cold as polar ice.
“Daddy! What are you doing here?”
Joe resisted the impulse to release his prize. This imposing man was Lydia’s father? How had he found them? What did he want?
Joe had faced down generals in the past, and Bull
Benedict certainly gave an equal impression of authority. He hadn’t expected this complication, but he knew the best way to handle a threat was to face it head on. He squared his shoulders and stood his ground.
Joe’s sister had told him that Bull Benedict was a billionaire, and he’d formed an unflattering mental image of the powerful man. To his surprise, when he surveyed Lydia’s father, he saw confidence without arrogance. Joe also noticed the sudden gentleness in Bull’s eyes as he looked down at his daughter.
Lydia was trembling, and Joe put his other hand around her so she was completely enveloped in what he hoped was a reassuring embrace. She laid her hands on his where they crossed at her waist, and for a moment he thought she meant to free herself. Instead, she relaxed her body back against his, so they were aligned from chest to hips. Despite the presence of her father, Joe could feel himself becoming aroused. He muttered an oath and imagined blood and guts, anything to take away his body’s unruly reaction to the woman in his arms.
“I’m here because I was worried about you,” her father replied at last.
“As you can see, I’m perfectly fine,” Lydia replied.
“Who is this . . . gentleman?”
Joe wondered about the pause, but figured one rogue had recognized another. He held out his right hand and said, “Joe Warren.”
Bull took his hand with a firm grip and said, “Who the hell are you?”
Joe was all set to tell Bull that he was an investigator when Lydia interjected, “My date.”
Bull frowned. “I thought you just turned down Harold’s proposal.”
“I did,” Lydia said.
“And you’ve already got another fish on the hook?”
“Please, Daddy!” Lydia said. “You’re embarrassing Joe.”
Bull shot a look at Lydia’s waist, which was surrounded again by both of Joe’s arms, then met Joe’s gaze and said, “You seem to have made yourself right at home.”
Joe saw the flush rise on Lydia’s neck and felt his own ears turn red. “Actually, Lydia’s being kind enough to provide support. I’ve got a bum leg.” When Bull raised a surprised brow, Joe continued, “War wound.”
“You’re a soldier?”
“Was one,” Joe replied. “I’m no longer fit for duty.” Joe heard the bitterness in his voice. He knew Lydia had detected it, because she gripped his arm more tightly, offering support he hadn’t expected but found surprisingly welcome.
“What are you doing in Rome with my daughter?” Bull asked.
Joe wasn’t sure whether to tell him the truth or make up a lie. Bull hadn’t revealed to Lydia that he knew the Ghost had been stolen. So why was he here? It dawned on Joe that the man might simply be worried about his daughter. “I’m here from Warren and Warren Investigations to help Lydia hunt for your wife’s necklace, the one that’s gone missing, the one being ransomed for twenty-five million dollars.”
Bull exhaled. “I see.”
Joe felt Lydia turn to stone in his arms and waited along with her to see how Bull would react to the fact that Lydia had lied to him about having the Ghost in her possession.
Bull merely said, “Have you had any luck?”
Joe felt the tension leave Lydia’s body as she realized that her father wasn’t going to condemn her in front of him for losing the Ghost.
“Gabe stole it,” Lydia blurted. “I think Aunt Alicia was in on the theft.”
Bull frowned at the suggestion that his sister-in-law had helped steal the jewel, but he didn’t look shocked, which surprised Joe. Bella’s sister Alicia and her son must be pretty unscrupulous characters for Bull to believe they were capable of such a daring theft.
“Let’s find a place where we can talk in private,” Bull said, automatically turning his head away as a flashbulb went off near them. He stopped dead in his tracks when he glanced back and saw whose photograph had just been taken.
“What the hell are you doing here?” Bull demanded.
Joe shot an inquiring look at Lydia and asked, “Who is that?”
Lydia’s face blanched. “My mother.”
Joe saw where Lydia had gotten her good looks. The Duchess still possessed breathtaking beauty. She was dressed in something red that emphasized a stunning figure. She was clearly startled to find Bull in the same ballroom.
“I thought you were in Paris,” she said to Bull as she took the few steps to close the distance between them.
“I thought you were in Greece,” he replied.
The Duchess let out a shuddering breath.
“Your Grace? May I be of assistance?”
When a woman behind the Duchess spoke, Joe suddenly noticed that Lydia’s mother was being trailed by a plain woman dressed in an equally plain brown evening gown.
“I’m fine, Emily,” the Duchess said.
Another flashbulb went off, lighting up both Bull and Bella.
“Let’s get out of here,” Bull said, taking Bella’s arm and heading for the door. He glanced over his shoulder at Joe and Lydia and ordered, “Follow me.”
The flashes dogged them all the way out to the limousine that was waiting at the curb. Bull helped Bella inside, then waited for Emily, Lydia, and Joe to get in before he joined everyone inside.
“Where shall I take you, sir?” the driver asked.
“Back to my hotel,” Bull replied. He turned to Bella and asked more calmly, “What are you doing here?”
“I suspect I’m here for the same reason you are,” Bella replied. She focused her gaze on Lydia, then shifted it to Joe. “According to my investigator, it appears my sister and her son have stolen the Ghost.”
In the flickering light coming from the street lamps, Joe saw Lydia’s face looked stricken.
“I’m sorry, Mother.”
“I’ll deal with you later,” Bella said in a firm voice. She turned to Joe and said, “Your assistant called me and suggested it might behoove me to speak directly to my sister about the theft, rather than let this go on any longer.”
“She called me, as well,” Bull interjected. “She said it might be useful for me to be there when you confront Alicia and Gabe, since the ransom demand was sent to me.”
Joe couldn’t believe his sister had manipulated the situation to involve Lydia’s parents without filling him in. Then he realized he’d set his phone on silent and hadn’t checked it recently. He pulled it out and saw there had been numerous calls—and texts—from his sister.
“Who are you?” the Duchess said. “You’re not Sam Warren. Sam Warren is the father of a grown daughter.”
So, the jig was up. Poor Samantha. He hoped the Duchess wasn’t going to withdraw her business from the firm. “My name is Joe Warren, ma’am. Sam Warren was my father.”
“Was?” the Duchess said.
“He’s been missing for two years.”
To give her credit, the Duchess didn’t look too perturbed when she asked, “Then who have I been corresponding with all this time?”
“My sister Samantha. She was trained by my father, which is why she’s so good at what she does. She’s the reason you know who stole the Ghost. I’m only here as a body in place.”
He felt Lydia pinch him hard at the waist and barely managed to avoid yelping.
“Why do you suppose your sister—Samantha, is it?—invited both Bull and me to come here. She must have known I’d discover the truth about her father’s absence.”
“I guess she figures this is the best way to recover the Ghost, ma’am.”
“Do we know where Alicia and Gabe are now?” Bella asked.
“They left the gala just before you arrived. I’d have to check with Sam—my sister—to see if she knows where Alicia is staying.”
“Do it,” Bull said.
“I can’t believe you lied to me,” Lydia whispered to him as he made the call to Sam.
He wanted to take her in his arms and soothe the hurt look in her eyes. But that was impossible with her parents sitting across from them. “I didn’t have any choice,
” he said.
“You always have a choice,” she said. “And you made the wrong one.”
She turned her head away, and Joe felt a sinking feeling in his gut. Whatever magical thing had been happening between them was over. She was cutting him out. Just as well. In a short while, Bull and Bella would confront the aunt and the cousin and this whole mess would get resolved. Then he could go home and gladly forget all about Lydia Benedict.
So why did he have this horrible ache in his throat?
Chapter Sixteen
Lydia felt rattled. Joe Warren had been lying to her from the first moment she’d met him. He wasn’t the private investigator, his sister was. Had he actually been a soldier? Or had he acquired those impressive scars and that bad leg in some other way? She should have trusted her instincts and kept her distance from the scoundrel. She felt like the world’s biggest fool!
A huge knot clogged her throat and threatened to choke her. Tears welled in her eyes, and she turned away from Joe and blinked to keep them from falling. She wasn’t about to give him the satisfaction of knowing how distraught she was. Once her parents confronted Alicia and Gabe and demanded the return of the Ghost, she would put this incident behind her. Joe Warren would go back to Texas, and she would go on with her life.
Lydia sniffed and realized someone had stuck a handkerchief in her hand. She looked down and saw it was one of the items she’d bought for Joe. On a whim, she’d had the Egyptian cotton embroidered with his initials. She dabbed at her eyes and nose, then turned to Joe, swallowed over the painful lump in her throat, and asked, “What comes next?”
“I have no—” Joe cut himself off as he reached for his phone, which had buzzed in his pocket. He took a moment to read a text he’d received, then said to the gathered throng, “My sister, who’s been providing these leads all along, found the hotel where Alicia is staying. Sam checked with the concierge, and Alicia is in her room.”
“Is Gabe with her?” Lydia asked.
“The concierge wasn’t sure about that,” Joe said, reading more of the text.
“Give the address to my driver,” her father said.
Her mother arched a questioning brow. “Are we really going to do this right now?”
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