by Juniper Hart
“Please, Simone, don’t make me tell you,” she mumbled. “I don’t want to talk about this anymore.”
“Who is it?!”
Sierra inhaled deeply, knowing that Simone would not leave it alone until she answered. Maybe you wanted her to know. Maybe that’s why you told her anything in the first place.
Besides Rowan, no one else knew the truth about Aurora. It would be a great relief for someone else to share her burden after all this time, wouldn’t it?
“Sierra…”
She sighed, making her decision. “Tobias Sutton.”
Simone’s body heaved as if Sierra had delivered her a blow, and she sank back, her long lashes blinking rapidly as she tried to process what she’d just been told.
“Tobias… you know who he is, don’t you?” Simone groaned. “You know what he’s done?”
“It’s not about him—”
“He’s purportedly the leader of the underworld, Sierra! The Enchanted mob!”
“What?!”
Simone gritted her teeth and shook her head. “He’s a mobster, Sierra. He took over the business when Helios went into hiding. He runs the underworld.”
“Wow…” Sierra asked herself if any of that mattered. Shocking as it was, it didn’t change the fact that she needed the Chasm of Purity. Her expression was crystal clear to her friend, who continued her rant.
“Oh, Sierra, no. You can’t think about robbing him. He’s ruthless and cruel. There is a reason he’s the lord of the earthly underworld. He will kill you. Shit, he might even kill Aurora if he’s pissed enough. That man does not have a good reputation!”
“I know.”
“You can ask him for the book, you can—”
“No, I can’t!” Sierra yelled, leaping from the chair, her face flaming in anger. “Even if I thought I could face him again without losing it, he’ll find out about Aurora, and I can’t have it. I don’t know what kind of father he’ll be, Simone, but I would bet good money that he doesn’t give a rat’s ass if she lives or dies. I can’t tell him about her. Not now, and not ever!”
Simone was silent, finally fully understanding the inner turmoil Sierra faced.
“There has to be a better way,” she muttered, but the words were as empty as Sierra felt in that moment.
“I’ll be careful,” she promised her friend. “I can do this for Aurora. I have never been more motivated in my life.” But no matter how motivated she might be, Sierra could not shake the impending cloud of doubt slowly brewing over her head.
I don’t have a choice, she thought firmly. In three days, I will be inside the walls of the Sutton estate. Gods willing, I won’t lay eyes upon him before I steal one of the most treasured possessions of the Enchanted.
Why was it, then, that Sierra could not stop imagining what it would be like to see him again?
“Sierra, you can’t screw this up,” Simone told her unnecessarily.
“Yeah, I know,” Sierra replied tightly. “Thanks for the vote of confidence.”
“It’s not that I…”
But Sierra didn’t hear anything Simone said from that point forward. Like a bolt of lightning in her mind, Sierra realized how she could achieve the feat of stealing the Chasm and sate her unyielding desire to see Toby again—and they were not mutually exclusive tasks.
You are doing this for Aurora, she told herself fiercely, the need to protect her daughter overriding all else.
Yet she could not deny that what her new plan entailed had a little bit to do with herself as well.
8
The grand ballroom was a sea of penguin suits and tight-fitting gowns, people spilling into all angles of the cameras’ wide lenses for photo ops and general narcissism.
Toby couldn’t claim to know half of the uptight tuxedos in his house, most of them invited through Paul, but he did glimpse dozens of famous Hollywood and political types who were apparently good for exposure. He didn’t care one way or another. He just knew they were pertinent to the cause.
In the mix were the allotted doctors and sick kids they had requested, and for a foreign second, Toby felt a stab of guilt. The children seemed ill at ease, as if they knew they were being used as pawns in a game, but there was nothing they could do to stop it.
This is wrong, he thought, his eyes scanning the crowd for Paul. They don’t need to be here in the shark tank. We’ll put them in the game and theater room so they can actually enjoy themselves while they’re here, not sitting around watching old men and women eating caviar with arthritic fingers.
He didn’t know why he hadn’t thought about the gaucheness of the notion before that moment, only that he had to put a stop to it. Seeing the kids like that was making his stomach churn. With a champagne glass in his elegant hand, he circled the room, a genial smile plastered on his face as he made small talk with the guests and waited for the formal dinner to commence, his eyes trailing around the room for a sight of Paul.
How was this only cocktail hour? He was already aching to set his own house on fire. What the hell had he been thinking, hosting such a production there? Anywhere would have been better than having a bunch of strange vultures in his beloved home. He was never doing this again.
Having the gala in his home went against every fiber of his being, showing off the opulent house he had guarded so closely, along with his privacy. True, there had been articles done about the showpiece mansion, and on occasion, with the strictest of notice, Toby had entertained reporters inside, but as a whole, events were usually catered outside.
It’s only one night, he reminded himself. You can do this for your company and your reputation.
“You’re losing your charming smile,” Paul piped in his ear. Toby wondered from where the middle-aged hipster had materialized.
“Get the kids out of the ballroom,” he ordered without cracking the hint of a smile. “Set them up downstairs and put on a movie. Order them some pizza or something. Why didn’t anyone think that a three-year-old might not like goose liver pâté?”
“But TS, we need them here!” Paul protested, his own grin fading into a look of petulant surprise. “They’re the reason people are throwing money at the—”
“Do I look like I need to be mansplained to?” Toby hissed, his eyes flashing with irritation. “You’re a smart guy, Paul. You can’t figure out how to have cameras on the kids without them being here? This is not a healthy environment for them. And they’re bored. Do something about it. Now!”
“Yeah, of course you’re right.” Paul paled and nodded quickly, knowing that an argument would not serve him well. “It doesn’t look good if the kids look uncomfortable.”
“Do it now,” Toby said, turning away as a bejeweled woman touched his arm. “Don’t make me tell you again.”
“Toby, darling!” Corinna Dupris cried, air-kissing his cheeks phonily as she clung to his arm. “How wonderful that you are doing such a lovely thing for the children!”
Toby cast Paul a warning look, and the PR manager disappeared into the crowd to round up the kids while Toby eyed them through his peripheral vision, his attention half on the overweight socialite hanging off him.
“Well, Corinna, you know that the Seattle Children’s Hospital is one of my favorite charities. I figured that there is no reason that everyone shouldn’t get the opportunity to share in my love for such a worthy cause.”
She laughed merrily, her voice reminiscent of Shane’s high-pitched shrill, and he wished she would release her claws from his forearm.
“Some people believe that this is a publicity stunt,” she told him, leaning in conspiratorially. “But I know you’re kind-hearted underneath that powerhouse exterior. I know you’ve got a big heart…and I know you must be hiding something else that’s very big.” She said as she glanced down at his pants.
Every word she spoke sent chills of disgust through his body, but time had been kind to him, and he managed to keep his composure. It wouldn’t be the first time that Corinna had tried to seduce hi
m, and it would likely not be the last. Every time Toby saw the senator’s wife, she seemed to grow more aggressive, as if she would eventually win against his immortal indifference to her nouveau riche status.
“You’re kind to say so,” he replied, slowly removing his extremity from her grip. His eyes moved over her dyed platinum chignon toward the entranceway, a familiar prickling sensation rising on the back of his neck.
Corinna was purring something else in his ear, but Toby could no longer hear her, his eyes traveling like lasers over the horde of people, his pulse beginning to race. Instantly, he knew what he was feeling.
She’s here, he realized, gulping back his disbelief. Sierra is at this function.
“Excuse me,” he muttered, pulling himself away, his body temperature rising as he made his way out of the ballroom, toward the foyer. He could sense her nearby, the same way he had in the hospital. Was she a doctor? One of the guests?
In the back of his mind, Toby could not let go of the idea that Sierra was there as more than just a party guest. His eyes grew wider as he tried desperately to take in the newcomers.
“Where are you going, TS?” Paul asked, catching him as he strode through the foyer. In his haste to find Sierra, Toby didn’t bother to correct Paul on his dreadful nickname.
“Where is the guest list?” he demanded, and Paul shrugged, pointing toward the security milling around the entranceway.
“They all have it on their tablets,” he answered, his face scrunched in perplexity. “Why? Do you see someone here who doesn’t belong? Do you need me to call someone?”
Before Toby could open his mouth to respond, he saw her.
For a moment, he was sure he was imagining things, swept away by the feeling of intoxication which had overcome him. The headiness had absolutely nothing to do with the champagne he had consumed.
“Toby?” Paul called out again. Toby didn’t hear him. He was transfixed, hypnotized.
Sierra was just as beautiful as he remembered her. She slid inside the house through the open double doors, nodding curtly to security as she ventured across the threshold. They had no reason to suspect she didn’t belong. After all, she was dressed in an expensive, stunning, teal-blue floor-length gown and adorned in a gold and diamond set which accentuated her sparkling eyes and lit her auburn hair perfectly. The shoulder-length waves were pinned to the sides with pearl combs, the tresses spilling against her naked shoulders to curve around the line of her chin. She seemed to be some mythical goddess emerging from the sea.
Instantly, Toby remembered the feel of her jawbone against his lips, and a hot flush built inside him, starting at his gut.
As she walked across the marble floor, a pair of black slippers peeked against the hemline of her dress, and she clutched a small handbag in her fingers. It was only her hands which gave away her nervousness, her beautiful face not displaying an ounce of insecurity while she stared about almost indifferently. Even as a liveried waiter strolled past with a full tray of goblets, she picked one up with ease and nonchalance. What was she doing there?
She seemed to either sense Toby or hear his thoughts, her head rising to stare at him directly, and time froze between the two, a heaviness hanging in the air. Toby knew that her presence should not be met with anything but suspicion, yet he would be lying to himself if he said he was not dizzy with desire for her.
He didn’t remember crossing the floor. Suddenly, though, they were standing face to face, and he was searching for his voice.
“Hi,” she offered first. “Did you come to steal my drink again?”
He gaped at her for a moment, his mouth parted, trying to understand why Sierra Collingwood was standing before him. There was an underlying bitterness in her tone, despite the bemused smile on her face. Before he could respond, a security officer appeared, seizing her by the arm.
“I’m sorry, miss. You’re not authorized to be here.”
Sierra’s face contorted in anger as she wrenched her arm away indignantly.
“Don’t touch me!” she spat. “I am authorized to be here. You’re wrong.”
The familiar anger only made Toby more aroused. Gods, I missed her, he thought, shaking his head at the insanity of the understanding. He knew nothing about her, after all. How could he possibly miss someone he hadn’t known for even twenty-four hours?
“Come with me, miss, and we’ll sort it out from outside the gate. The facial recognition software has flagged—”
“It’s all right, Hank. She can stay,” Toby interjected. “Don’t touch her.”
The security guard looked perplexed, and he glanced from Toby to Sierra and back to the owner of the house again. “But, sir, if she’s not on the list—”
“Is this my house or yours, Hank?”
The guard lowered his head, though Toby caught the twitch of defiance in his face. “I am just looking out for your safety, Mr. Sutton. I have very strict instructions on protocol for security tonight. She is—”
Toby could hardly believe the gall of the man, and his expression seemed to stop Hank in the middle of his sentence. Slowly and deliberately, Toby spoke his next words, his eyes boring into the security guard’s face.
“I just said she’s fine. Do I need to say it again?”
Hank cleared his throat and backed away, shaking his head. “No, Mr. Sutton. I understand.”
Toby dismissed him with a wave of his hand and turned his attention back to Sierra, grinning nonchalantly.
“Sorry about that,” he said. “But you did sneak in here.”
“I didn’t!” she replied hotly. “I was invited by Jefferson Cutway, but he ditched me as soon as we walked in.”
Toby felt a pang of jealousy snake through him and land like heartburn in his gut.
“Jeff Cutway? I thought he was gay,” he replied innocently, and Sierra laughed, even though her grin didn’t quite meet her eyes.
“I never thought to ask,” she said evenly. “Anyway, thanks for rescuing me. It’s good seeing you again.” She turned away, and Toby felt a stab of panic grip him as he realized she was leaving him. His mouth parted, and he called out to her.
“Sierra, wait!”
She paused and eyed him warily over her shoulder. “What is it? I really should find Jeff.”
“I-I just—” He stopped abruptly, realizing how many eyes were on the two of them. Cameras were flashing from every corner, and he felt very conspicuous all of a sudden. The damn press always ruined everything. “Can we go somewhere and talk privately for a few minutes?” he suggested, reaching for her arm.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Sierra murmured, taking a quick sip of her drink, her eyes shifting about. She didn’t move out of his grasp, and Toby took that as a positive sign.
“Please. I owe you an explanation.”
“Whatever for?” she chirped lightly, but he didn’t miss the underlying anger in her voice.
She’s been harboring a grudge against me all this time! he realized, and the understanding filled him with pleasure. If she was still irate, it meant that that night had meant something to her, too. I knew we had something special. I didn’t imagine it.
“You know what for,” he said gruffly, drawing closer to her. A waft of cheap perfume filled his nostrils, and he understood that she was only playing dress-up, though that didn’t matter to him. Nothing mattered but the fact that she was standing before him after three years, and it was everything that he had imagined it would be when he’d pictured their reunion.
Sierra glance at him reluctantly. “I don’t think that—”
“Toby, who is your friend?” An obnoxious male reporter whose name evaded Toby at that moment approached, and Sierra turned away, her face reddening with embarrassment. It was clear being on camera wasn’t her thing.
Without responding to the question, Toby yanked her upper arm, sensing she was about to slip away, and guided her away from the crowd, down the hallway toward his study.
“Toby, I really don’t n
eed an explanation,” she murmured. Still, she didn’t fight him as they made their way into the den.
Toby secured the doors at his back and watched Sierra slowly wander through the large room, her eyes fixated on the endless books lining the high walls toward the stained-glass skylight. The room was his sanctuary, a place he went to escape, and it seemed fitting that he was sharing it with Sierra when it was off-limits to everyone else.
“How have you been?” he heard himself ask. “You look well.” He wasn’t flattering her; she had a quality about her which enhanced her already lovely looks, a maturity which had not aged her in the least. She still looked exactly how he remembered her, the way she played out in his memories and, sometimes, his dreams. He knew that she shouldn’t look much different, but somehow, he felt like a lot more time had passed than what actually had.
“Thanks. You too,” she replied quickly, downing the rest of her drink with one gulp. She was looking for an escape, her nervousness overcoming her, but he was not about to let her go so easily.
“Sierra, I came looking for you after,” Toby told her, striding toward her as she stood looking out the rectangular windows into the rose gardens beyond. “I haven’t stopped thinking about you since that night.”
As he neared her, she didn’t turn, but her shoulders tensed, sensing his approach.
“You haven’t?” she said in a tone that told him she didn’t believe a word he spoke. “That’s flattering.”
He heard the cynicism in her voice, and he knew that his actions would not be easily explained. He had to try anyway. Whatever they had shared was a bond he couldn’t deny. And he could tell that, despite her wariness, Sierra felt the same, or else she would not be standing there.
“Sierra, I didn’t leave you on purpose. I had to go. It was beyond my control.”
A half-smirk formed on Sierra’s face, but she didn’t meet his eye, and he stifled a groan of disappointment.
