reminding him of his mother’s tiger’s-eye pendant. Yes, she vibrated with life, and he’d almost forgotten that feeling, dead as he’d been inside for so many years.
Jonas raked a hand through his hair to clear the sensual cobwebs weaving themselves into his brain, and headed for the silent butler by the sitting area. He plucked ice cubes from a bucket and dropped them into a glass.
When she’d turned and looked at him as she took her place at the auction, his whole body had tensed. At first he thought his impression had been a trick of the light, a quirk of his troubled mind, a ghost from his guilty conscience. But the similarities of her face to Alana’s grew over the differences, bringing with them a host of emotions he didn’t want to feel. Anger, betrayal—even hatred.
He poured whiskey over the ice and listened to the cubes crackle and pop.
Sterling’s arrival for the signing over of the trust had only compounded the feeling of powerlessness that had slowly enveloped him since Alana’s untimely disappearance. A feeling he’d felt only once before in his life and had sworn he’d never allow again.
He brought the glass to his lips, then slammed it down on the cart once more. Damn his blasted temper for getting him into this situation in the first place! He refused to lose a life’s worth of work over one ill-timed flash of anger.
As he slugged back a swallow, the pale amber liquid burned his throat. It rested in a fiery ball in his empty stomach, mixing with acid, bringing a caustic squall to life.
He’d watched the way the woman had sat up straight, then leaned forward with anticipation when the Aidan Heart had been raised to the block. The way she’d held her breath, waiting for the opening bid. The way she’d scanned the room, spotting each bidder and assessing them. They way the fear and hope had mixed, bringing her desire to the foreground. And when she’d turned desperate, an uncanny feeling of déjà vu had swept through him. That’s when the mad idea had formed in his mind and wouldn’t let go.
Sterling’s early arrival had served to imprint the idea further. The woman’s cry of outrage as David had placed the winning bid repeated in the chambers of his mind like a ghost’s tormented lament. He didn’t like resorting to a ruse, but he’d make it worth her while.
His future, his life, and those of his siblings, depended on it.
He picked up the bidder’s registration card and studied it. Cathlynn O’Connell. An antiques dealer from Nashua. For now, he’d let her cool her heels. Then they’d talk. If he’d read her right, the bait he’d dangle would be irresistible to this tiger hiding in a sleek cat’s skin.
They’d both get what they wanted.
The idea was so crazy, it might actually work.
CATHLYNN TOOK a few minutes to compose herself, but the raw fury refused to be tamed. She tromped down the hall where she’d heard the voices floating. The farther down she went, the darker and colder the atmosphere got. Soundless shapes reached out for her, then retracted into their dark crevices along the walls and ceilings. Tall candles protected by brass-trimmed sconces hung unlit, question marks along her path. Didn’t Jonas Shades believe in electricity? Maybe his cash-flow problems were as bad as the old lady had insinuated. That would serve him right, after he’d stolen her treasure from under her. Cathlynn snorted silently. He’d snuck away before she could face him with a counteroffer. Now she’d get her chance to face him, and he’d bear the full brunt of her disappointment.
Trailing her hand along the cold stone wall, she moved cautiously on the faded red runner. The stones seemed to come alive beneath her fingers, undulating mute portents into the marrow of her bones.
Beware. The warning pulsed directly into her brain. Her head snapped back to see who stood behind her. Nothing but the entry’s heatless light met her gaze.
Shaking her head to dismiss the creeps crawling over her skin, she followed the sound of muffled voices. She turned back every now and then to make sure she wasn’t being followed, unable to quite shake the feeling that someone was watching her. She passed several more arched wooden doors with black iron hardware and tested the latches. Why were all the doors locked? What dark secrets lay behind the cloistered portals? What skeletons?
The voices got closer. Through the half-opened library door, she spotted Jonas Shades. The arrogant snob chatted pleasantly with his guest as if nothing had happened—as if he hadn’t pulled the rug out from anybody. Cathlynn regained her sense of purpose. Her anger billowed to new heights, and she reacted before thinking.
“How could you?” She cried. “How could you make such an outrageous bid?”
Two men turned toward her with startled expressions on their faces. Jonas recovered from his surprise quickly and stepped toward her.
“Alana, darling, no need for such a fuss.” The rich, deep timbre of his voice floated pleasantly to her, but his smile was near-glacial when he drew her close and kissed her forehead with a featherlike brush of lips.
“Play along,” he whispered.
“What?” Cathlynn tried to pull away, but his hand captured one of hers, and his narrow glare warned her not to defy him. What had her mad impulse propelled her into?
“We can talk about whatever’s troubling you later, darling. Why do you think I bought back the Aidan Heart? For you, my sweet.”
“What are you talking about? How could you? You, you—” As waves of conflicting feelings battered her, the insult stuck in her throat.
“Because you mean the world to me, darling.” His smile held not a trace of warmth and his expression gave her the feeling the words left a rancid taste in his mouth.
Before she had a chance to respond, he turned her toward the distinguished-looking gentleman with the gray hair and neatly trimmed mustache, his palm wide and hot against the small of her back. “Do you remember Sterling Ryder, your father’s lawyer?” Her mouth opened to speak, but he plowed ahead. “No? Well, thirteen years can change a man, can’t they? He’s come from London in time to celebrate your birthday in two weeks.”
“Are you crazy?” What sort of game was Jonas Shades playing? Calling her by a name not hers, and pretending it was normal, the man had to have a screw loose somewhere. Holding the Aidan Heart as ransom for her cooperation, how low would the man go to get what he wanted?
“Darling—”
“What do you—”
“Not now, darling.” His gaze steeled and clouded dangerously. “Say hello to Sterling.”
As he waited for her reply, his fingers tightened with admonition around her waist, making Cathlynn wonder what might happen if she didn’t elect to play along with whatever perverted little game he was playing. Trying to loosen his controlling hold on her, and drown the speck of fear floating to her mind, Cathlynn pasted on a smile and offered Sterling her hand.
She’d play for now. For the Aidan Heart. Then Dr. Jonas Shades would see he wasn’t the only one who could bluster like a blizzard.
“Nice to meet you again,” Cathlynn managed to say, covering her stunned dismay. Who was Alana anyway? And why would Jonas pretend she was her? “How nice of you to come all the way to Ste-Croix for my birthday.”
“Well, this is an important one and I wouldn’t have missed it for the world.” Sterling released her hand and eyed her curiously. “Besides, it will be my last official duty before I retire. I’m rather looking forward to it.”
The last official duty or the retirement? Cathlynn couldn’t help the sarcastic streak turning her thoughts sour. Well, enough of this. Satisfied at having played her part in Jonas’s charade, she smiled at him.
“You could have told me you’d let me have the Heart. It would have saved both of us a lot of trouble, sweetheart.” She gushed the endearment, secretly pleased at his camouflaged discomfort. “Can I go pick it up now?”
“Why don’t