Behind Closed Doors (The Mccloud Series Book 1)

by Shannon McKenna

  He took a step towards her. “I’m grateful to finally have a chance to say this to you, face-to-face, my dear. I was out of the country when Peter drowned. I was devastated by his death. He was despondent. He should not have been sailing alone. What I regret most of all is the tension that was between us. Much of it due to your mother. Alix liked to stir the pot. No matter what people say, I loved my brother.”

  The words vibrated between them, low and impassioned.

  Raine’s throat began to quiver. She wiped away tears carefully with her fingertips, locked in an inward struggle to cling to the message of her dream, to Bill Haley’s words. Her world, not his, she repeated silently to herself, like a charm against the pull of his charisma.

  He gave her a crooked smile. “You are not convinced.”

  She did not answer, and he began to laugh. “Honesty is so rare in my life these days. Like a splash of icy water. Refreshing. Well, my dear, whether you believe me or not, can you put your doubts aside long enough to enjoy a pleasant evening with my friends?”

  “If you’ll excuse me, I need to make a phone call first.”

  He gestured towards the phone on the table. “Be my guest.”

  She paused. This was not a conversation he could overhear.

  He smiled at her hesitation. “You wish to call your young man, I take it? To reassure him that you have not been lured into some salacious orgy? I have anticipated you, my dear. I have already invited Mr. Mackey to this gathering.”

  His eyes gleamed at her stunned expression. “He jumped at the chance when he heard that you would be a member of the party. He is the jealous, possessive type, no? Think of it. You, out here overnight, subject to who knows what depraved appetites. Ah, dreadful. It was sure to drive such a young hotblood into a jealous frenzy. So I told him to come to dinner, to put his mind at ease. I hope I did well. That he will not bother you.”

  “Oh, no. Not at all,” she assured him. “I’m very glad he’ll be here.”

  Her knees were practically rubbery with relief. Seth would be furious when she was introduced to him as Victor’s niece, but he would understand once she explained the circumstances. And he was powerful enough to keep her from being sucked under Victor’s spell. He would keep her warm, grounded and real. She would be as safe as it was possible to be in this uncanny place, with Seth at her side.

  Victor’s gaze swept over her, and he nodded in approval. “It will be amusing to see his reaction when he sees you like this.” He made a sweeping gesture at her. “You are breathtaking, my dear.”

  She blushed. “Thank you.”

  “That reminds me.” He turned to the wall and removed an antique Japanese scroll, revealing a safe beneath. He keyed in a series of numbers, waited, keyed in a second series. The lock clicked open.

  He opened it, rummaging through several items, and drew out a flat black velvet box. “Your mother always coveted this, but I would not allow Peter to give it to her. I did not consider her an appropriate custodian.” He placed the box in Raine’s hands. “Go on. Open it.”

  She lifted the lid, and gasped. It was a fire opal, a teardrop shape, set in gold and a brilliant, milky swirl of tiny diamonds. She moved it in the light, old memories stirring inside her. The pearly smooth surface of the opal flashed in the light, pulsing with blue, green and violet fire.

  “I remember this necklace,” she whispered.

  “You played with it sitting on your grandmother’s lap,” Victor told her. “You were her joy. The necklace is called Dreamchaser.”

  “I thought there was a tiny rainbow trapped inside the stone,” Raine said, touching it reverently with her fingertip. “A live rainbow.”

  “It’s a family heirloom. A gift from your great-great-grandfather to his bride. At last, it comes to you.”

  He clasped it around her neck. The chilly gold of the glittering chain made her shiver. The past was reaching out cold fingers to touch her. It called out in soft, whispering voices, like faraway music.

  Victor turned her until she was looking at herself in the mirror. The pendant was the perfect length for the peacock gown. It nestled at her cleavage, sumptuous and elegant. Perfect.

  “I don’t know what to say,” she stammered.

  “Dreamchaser will remind you to look beneath the surface. To seek the passion and fire behind a deceptively plain exterior. Not that you need to be reminded.” Victor laid his hand upon her shoulder. “Please, wear the necklace often. All the time, if you can. It’s been waiting for you for years. Your grandmother would be glad that you have this. She would have been proud of your beauty and your intelligence. And your courage.”

  She clasped the pendant in her hand. Tears flashed down her cheeks, and she flicked them away, trying not to smudge the makeup. Victor’s piercing gaze saw right inside her, all her fears and weaknesses, her hunger for love and approval. It was so hard to resist. No one had ever been proud of her that she could remember. Alix was disapproving and competitive. Hugh, her stepfather, barely knew she existed.

  She knew it was a trap—and she almost didn’t care. Almost.

  Victor kissed her forehead gently and offered her a handkerchief. She dabbed at her eyes and gave him a cautious smile. He smiled back. A smile that saw too much, understood too much. He offered her his arm. “I would be pleased to show you my collection, but there’s no time tonight. Perhaps tomorrow. If such things interest you, of course.”

  “Thank you, yes. That would be fascinating,” she murmured.

  “Come, let’s take a tour of the house before our guests arrive. Allow me to reacquaint you with your childhood home.”

  She reached out and took his arm. Trap or not, lies or not, she couldn’t make her scars and fears and needs disappear by sheer force of will. All she could do was to watch them flowing like water, swirling and changing with every instant that went by.

  “Yes, please,” she said. “I would love to.”

  Chapter 16

  Of all scenarios, waltzing into a dinner party at Stone Island as the date of Victor Lazar’s long-lost niece was the last one he could have envisioned. Seth tied up at the Stone Island dock, and forced himself to concentrate on arming the custom-modified infrared motion-detector security device on his boat. If anyone came within two meters of the boat in his absence, a device attached to his waistband would vibrate, and a video camera would snap to life, recording everything.

  Attention to detail was everything in this kind of work, but he kept staring into space, forgetting where he was, breaking out in muttered profanity. He wanted to confront her, but he was bound by his own secrets. Secrecy had never felt constricting before. It had always felt like power. Now it made him feel helpless and maddened.

  Three days ago, he would have crawled naked over broken glass for an opportunity to walk right through Stone Island’s wall-of-thorns security. But his mind was reeling, his focus blown. He kept trying to come up with a plan for tonight, but he couldn’t think, couldn’t plan. He was going to have to wing it. Look what he was reduced to. Victor Lazar was a fucking genius.

  The house was lit up like a Christmas tree. It felt strange to march right up to the place without sneaking. The flagstone path was lit by strings of ice-white lights draped from tree to tree. He felt exposed, despite the SIG Sauer in the shoulder holster beneath his coat.

  A huge fireplace was roaring in the main reception hall. There was a jazz combo in the corner of the room, and a saxophone was crooning. It was filled with people in evening dress. He recognized a local politician out on the terrace, carrying on an animated conversation with a lovely young woman in a short fur jacket. The young woman gulped champagne, threw back her head and laughed. Too bad Connor wasn’t here, with his encyclopedic knowledge of the local movers and shakers. All Seth knew was that Victor had all kinds of people in his pocket, the only common denominators being wealth, power, and a secret weakness that Lazar had learned to exploit. Just as he’d done to Seth. He was just as compromised as any of these poor, champ
agne-guzzling bastards.

  “Ah! There he is. Our intrepid security consultant. Come in, come in.” Lazar hurried forward, seized Seth’s hand and pumped it heartily. “So glad you came. Raine will be delighted. She despaired of you coming when the last boat arrived.”

  “I came in my own boat.”

  Victor’s eyebrows arched. “Ah. And well you should, if you have the means. Where is that girl? Ah, there she is, chatting with Sergio. My dear! Your guest of honor has arrived!”

  But Seth could no longer register what Lazar said. The world disappeared, the air was sucked out of his lungs. All he saw was Raine.

  She was a fucking goddess, decked out like that. Supermodel gorgeous, Hollywood gorgeous. Ice princess, big-money, unattainable gorgeous. She’d always been sexy and delicious, even in her frumpy little business suits and horn-rimmed glasses. She was adorable in her baggy fleece pyjamas, and she was heart-stopping when she was naked, with her hair rippling right down to her ass.

  But he had never imagined her like this. The blue corset thing molded every curve, lifting up her pale breasts and offering them to the eye. Sex goddess and ice princess, rolled into one. Some wickedly expensive looking jewel was nestled between her perfect tits. Her hair was weirdly perfect, swept back in a complicated bun. She was a fairy-tale princess out of his comic book fantasies. She glowed like a star.

  He hated it. It made his jaw clench and his dick harden. It made him want to wreck something, punch walls, hurl plates. He wanted to drag her into a corner and rip off her glittering veil of illusions. Remind her that she was his beautiful wild animal, not this remote, perfect being. She was earth and sweat and blood and bone, she was hunger and need and howling at the moon. Just like him. Part of him.

  She rushed towards him, with a smile so sweet and welcoming that it made his gut cramp. All she was missing was the fairy wings and the fucking tiara and—he had to get a grip. Right. Now.

  “Seth! I’m so glad you—”

  “You didn’t call.”

  His tone stopped her cold. Her eyes went wide and uncertain. “I know. I’m sorry. It was an intense day. I can explain—”

  “I just bet you can.”

  She recoiled, the welcoming light gone from her eyes, and he hated that, too. People were sensing the tension between them. They were pausing in their conversations and looking over curiously.

  Keep it together, Mackey, he told himself. Don’t piss on the rug.

  “Is something wrong?”

  Victor Lazar’s smooth, oily tone made Seth’s hackles rise. He choreographed the muscles in his face into a polite smile. “Not at all,” he said, from behind clenched teeth.

  “I’m so glad you could make it. Tonight is a special night for us, Mr. Mackey. After seventeen years, I’m finally reunited with my beloved niece. The people who are important to her must celebrate with us.”

  “Your niece, huh?” His voice was dangerously thick. He stared into Raine’s eyes. They were naturally large and tilted. Accented with cosmetics, and wide with apprehension, they seemed enormous. “Your niece,” he repeated slowly. “That is just…incredible.”

  Raine’s mouth tightened. A blush raced across her translucent skin.

  “Doesn’t she look splendid?” Lazar’s eyes rested upon her with a proprietary pride that made Seth want to spit.

  “I liked her better before.”

  His voice came out flat and loud. Raine winced, visibly. Tough shit, he told her with his eyes. He was only flesh and blood. If she wanted to poke sharp sticks at him through the bars of his cage, she’d better expect him to snap and growl.

  “Lazar women tend to be unpredictable,” Lazar said coolly. “You’ll get used to it, I expect. If you manage to hold her interest, that is.”

  “Victor!” Raine’s voice was shocked.

  Seth locked gazes with the smug, silver-eyed bastard. The red fog was coming over him, his blood was pounding in his ears, loud and heavy. He became aware that Raine was tugging desperately at his arm. “Seth, please,” she pleaded.

  “Raine, why don’t you take your guest to the bar and get him a nice, relaxing drink?” Victor suggested. “Dinner will be in a quarter of an hour. I’m afraid you missed the hors d’ oeuvres, but the dinner itself will be just as excellent. Mike Ling is cooking tonight, stolen from the Topaz Pavilion for the night. Pan Asian fusion. I hope you enjoy it.”

  Seth held out his arm to Raine. “Sounds delicious,” he said, through gritted teeth. “Come on, sweetheart. Show me to the bar.”

  She took his arm with the tips of her fingers, and they moved silently through the lavish room. He knew he should be paying attention, gathering data, but he was helpless, inert. All he could feel were the tips of her fingers, burning through the fabric of his jacket.

  He got himself a beer, got her a glass of champagne, and steered her to a secluded corner by the window. They stared at each other, as if they were afraid of each other.

  “You’re furious,” she murmured, staring into the champagne.

  “Yeah.” He took a swallow of beer. “You’ve been lying through your teeth ever since you met me. Lying makes me sick.”

  “I did not lie to you.”

  The cool, righteous tone in her voice jerked an ugly laugh out of him. “Yeah? Peter Marat?”

  “That was the only thing that I withheld, and you can hardly blame me. Try to understand, Seth. I’ve only known you for four days, and I’m doing something that scares me to death—”

  “To death, huh?” He picked up her pendant, and she flinched back when his fingertips lingered at the velvet heat of her cleavage. He held it to the light, admiring the flashing colors. “Very pretty,” he commented. “I bet putting this thing around your neck scared you right out of your mind. What did you do to earn it, sweetheart?”

  She jerked the opal pendant out of his hands. “Don’t be crude. It was my grandmother’s.” She stepped back and wrapped the glossy blue shawl across her chest. “You’re being ugly, and I hate it,” she said in a small, clear voice. “Please stop.”

  “I can’t.” It was the naked truth. “I’m for real, babe. What you see is what you get. Which is more than you can say for yourself, Raine Cameron Lazar.”

  Her cheeks flushed a deeper pink. She lifted bright, defiant eyes to him and drained the rest of her champagne in one long swallow. “We’ll talk about this later,” she said. “It’s almost time for dinner. Can you manage not to make a scene in front of Victor’s guests?”

  “What’s it worth to you?” he taunted.

  Her lips went white. “Please, Seth.”

  There was something haunted and pinched in her face, behind her radiant veil of glamour. It tugged at him, despite his anger. Made him feel like a bastard, kicking a puppy. “Later,” he muttered.

  “The others are going into the dining room. Shall we?”

  He bowed and offered her his arm. “At your service.”

  He sat down next to her at the table, a fake, tense smile on his face. He finally understood the value of social skills. They were simple, pure technique to fall back on when you were about to lose it, but could not afford to. Like fighting. You studied kicks, punches, parries and falls until they were second nature. Then when somebody tried to pound the shit out of you, self-defense was smooth and automatic.

  Social skills. Kicks and punches. Same damn thing.

  Raine had no idea how she managed it. She smiled and spoke in Italian to Sergio, the museum curator on her left, about medieval art; she conversed with the distinguished older man across the table about his consuming interest in collecting historical weapons. She laughed and smiled and chattered social nonsense, all with a seething volcano sitting in the chair next to her. The food was exquisitely prepared, but she didn’t remember eating or drinking, although she must have done so.

  After the fruit, dessert and coffee, people began to wander into the main room where the showing of Victor’s new acquisitions would take place. A buzz of anticipation was rising. Vi
ctor strolled over to them and tucked a wisp of hair back up into her coif. With every nerve raw, she clearly sensed Seth’s rage roaring up like a flame at Victor’s possessive, avuncular gesture, even though he made no overt sign of it.

  Victor’s smile showed that he felt it too, and was amused by it.

  “Perhaps you young folks would like to be left to yourselves. I plan to show you my entire collection tomorrow, Raine, so there’s no need to bore Mr. Mackey with it. Give him a tour of the house, if you like.”

  “A tour of the house sounds fine to me,” Seth cut in, his arm closing around her shoulders. “Great place you’ve got here. I’d love to see it.”

  “Very well, then. Come down for drinks later on, if you care to.” He kissed Raine’s cheek, gave Seth a nod, and walked into the hall.

  Seth pulled her out the front door. She scurried to keep up with his long strides. “Where are you taking me?” she demanded.

  “To my boat.”

  She pulled back and dug in her heels. “Your boat? I can’t just leave, Seth. I have to—”

  “My boat is the only sheltered place on this whole island where I can be reasonably certain that our conversation won’t be overheard or recorded. If we don’t scream at each other, that is. Which at this moment, I can’t guarantee.”

  “Oh,” she whispered.

  It was even colder when they drew near the dark water that lapped against the dock. He helped her onto the boat, steadying her as she teetered on the fragile high heels. She stood in the door of the cabin and watched as he untied the boat and started up the motor.

  He took them out into the dark water, twenty, thirty, fifty meters, and cut the motor. She scrambled out of his way as he entered the cabin. His heat began to warm the place the minute he followed her in.

  He switched on the lantern that was bolted to the table and did something with a keyboard and monitor attached to the cabin wall. He turned to her, folding his arms. “OK. We’re out of range of any directional mikes Victor could point at us. Let’s hear it.”