by Day Leclaire
And her world collapsed around her.
Nicolò had to be home, waiting for her, Kiley decided as she left Dantes. And when she arrived, she’d have him explain all that she’d found in that damning file, a file currently tucked beneath her arm. There had to be an explanation, other than the obvious one. She couldn’t be the person detailed between those pages. It wasn’t possible.
To Kiley’s disappointment, she arrived to find an empty house, empty except for Brutus, who seemed to sense her despair. He trailed behind her, whining softly, as she wandered from room to room, struggling to come to terms with all she’d learned. From deep within the house, she heard the doorbell ring and for a split second her heart leaped. Nicolò. He was home. Then common sense prevailed. Her husband would have used his key.
Leaving Brutus in the den, she crossed to the front door and opened it, surprised to discover a woman standing there, impatiently tapping her foot.
“About time,” the woman announced, before sweeping inside. “Do you have any idea how long it’s taken me to track you down? I finally tricked your address out of the hospital, though what the hell you were doing there, they wouldn’t say.”
“Who—” Kiley hesitated, taking a second, longer look.
The woman, a striking blonde, appeared to be in her late thirties, though something about the hardness around her carefully made up eyes and mouth hinted at a handful of years more than that. She matched Kiley’s stature, or lack thereof, the only difference between them the extra few inches the older woman carried in the bust line and around the hips. She wore her hair in a short cap of curls that emphasized both her striking bone structure, as well as a pair of vivid blue eyes.
A possibility occurred to Kiley, one she could only pray was true. “I know this is going to sound like an odd question, but…Are you my mother?” she asked, fighting to control a wild surge of emotion.
A single eyebrow winged skyward. “Have you lost your mind? Of course I’m your mother.”
“Oh, my God.” Kiley threw her arms around the woman, hugging her with tearful exuberance. She needed this, needed something to go right today. “Oh, Mom, you have no idea how happy I am to meet you.”
“Now I know you’ve lost your mind.” The woman pried herself free of Kiley’s embrace. “What the hell do you mean you’re happy to meet me? And—horror of horrors—since when have you called me ‘Mom’? Try Lacey, you ungrateful brat. Now where’s the damn necklace?”
Kiley fell back a step. “I—I call you Lacey?”
“If you don’t pull yourself together, I swear I’m going to slap you, if only to knock an ounce of sense into that brain of yours. I mean, really, Kiley. What were you thinking? What made you believe for one tiny second that you could get away with it?”
“Get away with—” She shook her head. “You don’t understand. I was in an accident. I lost my memory. I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
To Kiley’s shock, Lacey burst out laughing. “Oh, that’s a good one. You’re always scheming, aren’t you? Well? Come on.” She folded her arms across her chest and set her foot to tapping again. “Explain how this latest one works. I’m all ears.”
Kiley stared at her mother in horror. Didn’t she believe her own daughter? But then, if the information in the file was correct, why would she? “You don’t understand. I’m serious. I have no memory of you, or of my past, or—or anything.”
“Oh, you poor dear.” Lacey feigned a sympathetic look before spoiling it with a laugh. “I have to hand it to you, sweetie, you’re really quite good at this. I’m actually starting to enjoy myself, which is rather miraculous considering my mood when I arrived.” She crossed to Kiley’s side and linked arms with her. “Now don’t keep your dear momma standing in the hallway. Why don’t you show me around the place.”
Every instinct Kiley possessed screamed a warning. “Why don’t we go into the living room,” she suggested instead. “Maybe I can give you a tour when Nicolò gets home. He’s due any moment.”
“Nicolò?”
“My husband.”
Lacey’s jaw dropped. “You’re married?”
“Close to a month now.” She gestured toward the sofa. “Can I fix you a drink.”
“The usual. Make it a double.”
“And the usual is…?”
Lacey shrugged. “I should have known you’d be too good to fall for that one. Double scotch. Neat.” She waited until she’d been served before leaning forward with a wheedling expression. “Come on, Kiley. Let me in on this one. I can play it anyway you want. Just give me the lowdown so I don’t make any mistakes.”
Kiley stared at her mother in disbelief. Oh, God. If this was the lifestyle she’d chosen before being hit by that cab, no wonder she didn’t want to remember. How had she lived with herself? How had she justified such an unscrupulous existence? “This isn’t a scam. I was hit by a cab and I’m suffering from something called retrograde amnesia.”
Lacey waved that aside. “Whatever. At least tell me who your mark is.”
Mark. With every word her mother uttered, she confirmed the information in the file—hideous, damning information that listed name after name, amount after amount, of people scammed and money taken. “There is no mark,” Kiley stated numbly. “There’s just my husband.”
Lacey snapped her fingers. “Right. The husband. That’s one I haven’t pulled in a while. Too messy.” She gestured for Kiley to continue. “Well? What’s his name?”
“Nicolò Dante.”
“Dante?” Lacey sat bolt upright. “Nicolò Dante? Have you lost your mind? You think you can take down a Dante?”
“I keep telling you,” Kiley said wearily. “This isn’t—”
“A scam. Right.” She slammed her drink onto the coffee table with such force it made the crystal sing and gathered up her purse. “Well, I don’t want any part of whatever it isn’t.”
“Just answer a question first.” Kiley crossed to where she’d left the file. Flipping it open, she removed one of the pages and offered it to Lacey. “Do you recognize these names? Is this information correct? Did I rip off all these people?”
With notable reluctance, Lacey set aside her purse and took the paper. Scanning it, she turned deathly pale as she read. “What the hell are you thinking, writing all this down?” she gritted out. “Do you have any idea what sort of trouble this could cause us?”
“All I want to know is whether or not it’s accurate. Did I do those things?”
Lacey shot to her feet, shoving the list back into Kiley’s hands. “That’s it. I don’t know what you’re trying to pull, but I won’t be party to it. I suggest you burn that paper before someone connects you with it. In the meantime, I’m out of here.” She held out her hand. “Just give me the necklace and I’ll be on my way.”
Kiley stiffened. There it was again. The necklace. No doubt the same necklace Ferrell referred to. She carefully folded the list into fours and slipped it into her pocket. “What necklace?”
“Stop playing games.” Lacey’s voice could have cut glass. “Your grandfather Cameron’s fire diamond necklace.”
Kiley stilled. “Then…there really is a necklace?”
“Of course there really is a necklace. Now where is it?”
“I haven’t got a clue.” Kiley began to laugh. “Maybe when I get my memory back I’ll remember that, as well.”
“The locket.” Lacey’s anger ebbed, replaced by a look of cunning. “If you don’t have the necklace on you, you’ve got a safe deposit key hidden in the locket.”
Kiley slipped her hand beneath her blouse and fisted her fingers protectively around the silver heart. “So, I’m not just a scam artist. I get top marks for deviousness, too. Lovely.” She remembered with painful amusement how crushed she’d been when Nicolò had informed her that she didn’t have a close relationship with her mother. How she’d longed for the sort of family ties the Dantes possessed. Right now, she’d have given almost anything to be an orphan. “
FYI, I don’t know how to open the locket.”
“Oh, would you please give this amnesia business a rest? You had me in stitches with it earlier, but enough’s enough.” She took another step in Kiley’s direction, her face lined with grim intent. “Give me the locket. I’ll open it if you won’t.”
“I’m not giving you anything.”
“You are such a fool,” she ranted. “Do you think I didn’t consider setting up the Dantes years ago? Color me with a bit more common sense than you’re currently showing. At least I knew better than to make a play in that direction, though I will admit the amnesia thing gives it an interesting twist.”
“It’s not—”
“I’m your mother, Kiley,” Lacey bit out. “You can’t fool me. Now, I want that key. Give it to me or I swear I’ll take it from you. I’m not playing around here. I don’t want to be anywhere in the vicinity when Dante discovers you’re faking amnesia in order to scam him.”
“To late, I’m afraid.” Nicolò stepped into the room, Brutus at his heels. “It would seem that Dante found out a little sooner than you anticipated.”
Nine
It took every ounce of self-control for Nicolò to hold his fury in check. At his appearance, Kiley and her mother both spun to face him, identical expressions of consternation on faces that bore a startling similarity. Or they would if Kiley ever acquired the bitter cunning that marked the older woman’s features.
Here was the avarice he’d sought in Kiley’s face during their visit to Dantes Exclusive. The slyness. The self-indulgence. Finally, he could see what she had worked so hard to keep from him. He only had to meet the mother to uncover it. Beside him, Brutus checked out the newcomer and released a soft growl, one that had her taking a hasty step backward.
“You asked for the truth, Kiley.” He stripped off his suit jacket and tossed it over a nearby chair. “I didn’t realize you were the one who would be providing it for me.”
“No, Nicolò.” Her cheeks turned every bit as waxen as they’d been during her hospital stay, a realization that gave him an unwanted pang of concern. “You misunderstood what we were saying.”
He cut her off with a slice of his hand. “Drop the act, Kiley. I’m neither deaf nor a fool. I understood every word your…mother?” He lifted an eyebrow in the older woman’s direction, prompting her to confirm his assumption.
“Lacey O’Dell,” she offered coolly. She took a step in his direction, hand outstretched, but stopped dead in her tracks when Brutus bristled. She cautiously lowered her arm to her side, and Nicolò couldn’t help noting with some satisfaction that it took her a few seconds to recover her aplomb. “Call me Lacey.”
He continued to address Kiley, tearing at the tie knotted at his throat. “I understood every word Lacey said. You’ve been faking amnesia in order to pull off a scam meant to garner you a share of the Dante fire diamond mine.”
“I did warn you,” Lacey said to Kiley, before fixing him with an assessing gaze.
The pale blue color struck him as ice-cold and lacked the humor and kindness—not to mention the fiery passion—so often reflected in her daughter’s. Maybe the difference between the two came from Lacey’s additional years of running scams. Maybe this was how Kiley would appear a few years down such a rough and unforgiving road.
“I assume you’re Nicolò Dante, Kiley’s husband?” she asked.
“Is that what she told you?”
Lacey hesitated, disappointment flashing across her face. “Another lie?”
He stripped away his loosened tie and released the first few buttons of his shirt before it strangled him. “My lie, this time. Conning a con, I guess you’d call it.”
Kiley caught her breath in a soft, disbelieving gasp. “No. No, that can’t be. Tell me you didn’t lie about that, Nicolò.” She stared at him, her pleading look one of utter devastation. “Anything but that.”
He met her gaze without saying a word. He simply waited. She knew the truth. She’d known from day one, minute one that they weren’t married. And she’d chosen to play along every step of the way. No doubt her current performance was for her mother’s benefit. Eventually she’d explain why she’d set this particular game in motion and what she hoped to gain from it. In the meantime, he was done playing.
At his continued silence, Kiley closed her eyes in abject surrender. The expression on her face absolutely gutted him, even though it had to be an act. It took her several seconds to regain her equilibrium and confront him again. When she did, her eyes were black with pain.
“We’re not married? All those romantic dates you told me about, the seaside wedding, none of it ever happened?” When he didn’t respond, she lifted a trembling hand to her mouth. “It’s all a lie? All of it? Touring the city. Dantes Exclusive. Oh, God. Deseos. Those incredible, beautiful, romantic nights on Deseos. It was just a game to you?”
He didn’t spare either of them. “It would seem we both lied, didn’t we, Kiley?” But even that wasn’t the complete truth. Because there had been times when he could have sworn there’d been nothing but honesty between them. “No doubt we each have our own special place reserved in hell.”
“No! I don’t believe you. Some of it had to be real.”
Painfully aware of Lacey’s keen interest, he cut Kiley off. He didn’t want to remember any of it, remember what a fool he’d been. He especially refused to think about Deseos. “Enough. Just can the dramatics, will you? You’ve won your Oscar. I actually believed you had amnesia, if only for a few weeks.”
Lacey blew out a sigh. “That’s my daughter for you,” she said with exaggerated sympathy. “Just one deception after another.”
He turned on her next. “Like mother, like daughter?”
She stiffened, lifting her chin in defiance. “Not at all. Since you listened in on our conversation, you must have heard me say that I wanted no part in whatever scam Kiley’s running.”
“Very self-righteous of you,” he said dryly. “I’d be a bit more impressed if I also hadn’t heard you say that you know better than to take on the Dantes. Still, I applaud your intelligence, as well as your keen sense of self-preservation.”
She had the unmitigated gall to wink at him. “Thank you.”
He removed his cufflinks and pocketed them before rolling up the sleeves of his shirt. Throughout the process, he continued to scrutinize her. “Just out of curiosity, what about the others?”
“What others?” Her movements slowed, stuttering to stillness, and she moistened her lips with the tip of her tongue. The “tell,” the unconscious movement that warned him whenever she lied was painfully similar to the one he’d noticed Kiley use in the suite at Le Premier all those weeks ago. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“I’m talking about the other men you’ve scammed over the years.”
Lacey’s eyes went flat and, if possible, even colder than before. “Hmm. I don’t think I care for the direction this conversation has taken. So, if you don’t mind, I think I’ll opt out of it.” She crossed to the sofa with a hip-swinging walk and gathered up her purse before confronting Kiley. “I believe you have something to give me.”
The odd quality in her tone caused Brutus to leap to Kiley’s defense. He muscled his way between the two women, appearing more ferocious and intimidating than Nicolò had ever seen him. With a muffled cry, Lacey stumbled back a few paces.
Kiley reached out and soothed the dog. “I have nothing for you. Do I, Brutus?”
He gave a sharp bark of agreement, one that had Lacey making a beeline for the doorway. Once she was satisfied that she stood a safe distance from the dog, she opened her mouth to argue. Sparing a swift glance toward Nicolò, she thought better of it. Apparently, he looked every bit as intimidating as his dog. It was a comforting thought.
“This isn’t over,” she warned. “Not by a long shot.”
With that, she swept from the room escorted by Brutus, which no doubt explained why her heels tapped a frantic dance across th
e foyer. A few seconds later, the front door opened and slammed shut again. The silence hung in the air, thick and heavy. Nicolò could see Kiley struggling to find the right words to use on him. The best tack to explain away what he’d heard. He didn’t give her the opportunity to settle on a strategy.
He approached, watching the wariness flare in her eyes. “When did you get your memory back? Or did you ever lose it in the first place?”
Her chin shot upward. “I lost it. I still don’t remember anything before the accident, despite what you and my mother may think.”
He couldn’t help himself. He laughed, the sound harsh and ripe with disbelief. “Yeah, right.”
She searched his face, no doubt looking for the chink in his armor, a chink he’d make very certain she never found. “There’s nothing I can say to convince you I’m not faking amnesia, is there?”
“Not a thing.”
Exhaustion settled over her, a visible blanket of weariness. “All right, fine, Nicolò. Have it your way. I’m lying about everything. I faked amnesia. Tell me what I’ve won. What’s my consolation prize?”
He hesitated. “What are you talking about?”
“I must have faked amnesia for some reason.” She spread her hands. “Tell me what I could possibly gain by such a pretense.”
“Will half of Dantes’ fire diamond mine do? I mean, when we first met at Le Premier that was your original scam, wasn’t it?”
“For the sake of argument, let’s say it was. Did it work?”
“You know it didn’t.”
“Why?”
His eyes narrowed in speculation. “What game are you playing now, Kiley?”
“Just answer the question. Why didn’t it work?”
“Because your argument that day wasn’t logical. You had all the documentation lined up, but it didn’t make sense that your family would have waited so many years before coming forward with the claim.”
“Huh. Good point.” It almost felt as though she were tiptoeing through her analysis, though he couldn’t figure out why she bothered. “Okay, so I tried the con on you when we first met at Le Premier and it didn’t work. Logically, what would I have done next?”