by Eve Devon
Honeysuckle closed the book and removed the gloves so that she could start packing up to go to the History Center.
Adam rose from his chair. “You have been a tremendous help. Thank you.” Adam smiled. “What is the name of your previous royal biographer?”
“Oh. It was a woman called Monique. Monique Vass. She left to go write a book, I think.”
* * * * *
Rufus de Burgh moved through the castle grounds with fury beating like a beast within his chest. He would control it, though. He was expert at exerting control—over himself, over others. Whatever he needed to do to make something happen for himself, he did.
Except for last night, when he’d had a lapse of that tight control and made his first mistake. He didn’t like that he’d compounded his mistake by knocking into someone on his way out. What would all his work have been for if he’d got caught last night? He should have made sure whoever it was didn’t get up again.
Still, he had thought about it, and now he was back to repair that mistake.
His error had been to deviate from his plan and have sex with Monique in the throne room last night after stealing the diamond.
Being in the castle had turned all that cold, precise, honed hatred into a fire-breathing dragon that had needed assuaging.
By the time he had understood what it was coursing through him, he had already gotten the diamond. Had felt nothing when he’d killed the two guards, and as he’d lifted the diamond out of the UAV and popped it in his pocket, all he’d registered was that they were on schedule.
But then he’d heard the distant sounds of panicked guests exclaiming about the darkness as they did what he knew they would do and started leaving.
Thinking about them wandering the castle grounds freely reminded him of his mother.
His mother, who had insisted all along that she and her boys belonged at the castle.
Had insisted all along that they were of royal descent.
She spent her entire life telling him either that her son already lived at the castle and that one day they would get to live with him, or that one day Rufus would find her other son and prove that they should be living at the castle.
Everything had been about her other son and this damn castle.
Was it any wonder he had hated this place and all it represented?
The blistering bitterness had become overwhelming, mixing with the headache that had started its divisive throbbing until all he could see was how disgustingly unfair it was that he only got to walk the rooms of the castle, the rooms that he should have gotten to wander by right, when dressed in a tux and impersonating his identical twin brother.
Edward Long.
That Monique had found his doppelganger while researching Steel Hawk had been incredible. That his doppelganger turned out to be his twin and working for the very company that had brought down their ancestor in 1851 had made a strange sort of karmic sense to Rufus.
Suddenly, Rufus had known exactly how to exact revenge.
Everything had worked according to his meticulous plan. Right up until he had allowed emotion to override strategy.
He’d needed the outlet. But the excitement and thrill of having sex with Monique in the castle hadn’t been so much about further implicating his twin and Honeysuckle Hawk, although that had given him pleasure. No. The actual act had had much more to do with showing his utter disrespect for the establishment.
Rufus swapped his rucksack to his other shoulder as he stepped into line to queue with members of the public waiting to go into the exhibition.
There was no doubt in his mind that the instructions he had given Elsa and Gustav would be adhered to. He had been their puppet master for years. They would not dare defy him.
Before he reached the head of the queue, Elsa would come and get him and take him through security to meet with Gustav in Edward Long’s room.
He stood patiently, pretending to read a leaflet about the exhibition. He wasn’t sure how the castle had pulled off opening the exhibition when their precious jewel had been stolen, but all these people were obviously going to be looking at something.
It wouldn’t be the Pasha Star, though, because that was nestled inside his rucksack.
Along with the explosives.
The fact that nothing had appeared in the press about the diamond being stolen last night meant he had to bring his plans forward. There had been news reports of how the castle had suffered an embarrassing power outage, but nothing else.
They obviously thought they could play him.
They were mistaken.
He had no qualms about mixing things up.
He might have wished to see them all suffer a little more first, but now he would see them all suffer on a larger scale.
“Sir?” He looked up as, right on cue, Elsa approached. “If you would like to come with me, Mr. Ambrus informs me you are permitted to view where the ball was held last night to help you write your article.”
Rufus smiled and stepped out of line to follow Elsa across the courtyard and in through one of the doors marked “Castle Staff Only”.
He followed her silently, his earlier fury waning.
In its place sat pure and hallowed justification.
With his hand, he silently pulled out the hunting knife.
Two birds with one stone.
By the time he was through, the authorities would be under no misapprehension that someone from Steel Hawk and someone from within the castle had worked together to bring about a horrific event.
Chapter Eighteen
“Check your cell phone again and see if Max has been in touch.” Honeysuckle said to Adam as they exited the history center with pages of photocopied records.
Adam checked. “No messages. No missed calls. Look, I agree with you. It seems way too coincidental that this Monique Vass woman left the castle to write a book. Max will check with legal, and then he’ll be straight on the phone to the publishing house. In the meantime,” he said, wondering how the hell they were going to have time to do it, “we should get started on that list of Burghs.”
“I think this isn’t about Steel Hawk at all,” Honeysuckle murmured. “This is about someone holding a grudge about the Zarrenburgs. A descendent called Burgh who has figured out how to tie it to us because of our relationship with the royal family. Maybe we can link Monique Vass to a Burgh—maybe she is a Burgh.”
Adam reached forward and pulled Honeysuckle out of the way of the crowd.
Honeysuckle reached out to stroke her hand down his forearm. “You’ll figure out what’s bugging you about the name Burgh eventually.”
Adam tried not to let the frustration overtake. It wasn’t Burgh, it was something like Burgh that was driving him insane. Where had he seen a similar name? For a guy who cataloged absolutely everything, why couldn’t he remember what it was about the name that seemed familiar?
He felt like they were finding out more and more information. None of it led to a solid lead, but he had to remain confident.
Because whichever came first, finding out whoever was doing this or them finding the diamond, he needed the closure of it before he could rework Descry.
When all this was over, he was going to find a way of making sure his software and uplinks were so secure they could never be hacked. Ever again. Descry was going to market. He still believed in her, and he would work even harder to ensure every single component she was fitted with was as secure as could be.
But this had to be his first priority.
Bringing up his contact list on his cell phone, he placed a call to Anton Haas.
The wind whistled down the twisty lane, creating a wind tunnel that had Honeysuckle’s hair whipping around her face. He held the phone to his ear and watched as she tried to hold on to the pages in her hand and brush her hair out of her eyes with her other.
/> Telling himself it was solely to get out of the wind, he walked her backward into the alcove of a shop. Protected from the biting wind, he reached out with his free hand to tuck a tendril of hair back behind her ear.
“Anton, it’s Adam,” he said into his phone, his gaze snared in Honeysuckle’s. “I need you to organize another audience with the king for later today.” God, as she stared patiently back up at him, all he could think was that she was so incredibly beautiful she took his breath away. His thumb stroked the underside of her jaw, and she tilted her head back to receive his mouth.
It was insane how much he wanted to taste her again.
“Will do,” Anton replied. “Everything is quiet here. From my contacts, no one has mentioned what happened last night. As far as I can tell, no one has attempted to off-load via the usual methods either.”
“Good. The last message I received from my brother back at Steel Hawk was that he had been discreetly checking the Internet. There’s been no chatter at all.” He lowered his head a couple of inches, closer to Honeysuckle’s head, and he told himself it was because he wanted to check for her reaction. “My gut feel is that whoever took it has it still. From what I’ve learned today, this was about grabbing your attention and then dragging Steel Hawk into it to cloud the issue.”
“I agree. My team is still trawling through all the camera footage we could recover from last night, but all I’m realizing is how easy it is to skirt the security in this old building.”
“What I asked you to do last night…” Adam said, referring to concentrating all efforts on recovering footage of Honeysuckle and Edward. He’d needed something—anything—that showed him they weren’t involved.
“Yeah. I can’t see her or him making an entrance anywhere into the building together.”
Honeysuckle’s breath fluttered against his. Maybe just one touch of his lips to hers and he’d know. A test of him as much as her. “About what I mentioned last night,” he repeated. “Take her out of the mix, will you?”
He shoved his phone back into his pocket.
“God, I must be crazy,” he muttered, closing the distance and sliding his mouth against hers.
The first caress of her lips against his, and he was lost.
How could this be a lie?
She moaned, and, addicted to eliciting the sound, he drove his tongue into the hot recess of her mouth, pushing her back against the wall so that he could take more.
Flashes of them together ignited in his head. He remembered her long, long legs wrapped around him, her fingers clutching against his, her eyes looking into his soul, telling him it was more than the rush of hot sex.
He wrenched his mouth from hers to pepper kisses along her jawline. He nuzzled his way to her ear, and when he sucked her earlobe into his mouth and she called, “Adam,” on the breathiest of moans, he reared back to look at her.
The way she said his name.
The way she’d always said his name.
Like an entreaty.
Like a prelude.
When he went to speak, she reached out and pressed her fingertips against his lips. She shook her head, silently asking him not to apologize.
He studied her for a moment or two, and then, taking a deep breath, muttered, “Okay,” and gently covered her hand with his and lowered it to her side.
Another deep breath in, and he was stepping back to give her some space so that they could back out into the street.
She smiled her thanks and stepped out onto the sidewalk, the freezing wind immediately attacking her hair. She laughed at herself as she attempted once again to capture the black tresses in one hand and keep them from flying in her face.
The laugh loosened something within him again, and he stepped out onto the street with her. His phone vibrated to alert him to an incoming message, and, expecting news from Max, he whipped it out to look at the text. It was short and sweet and it was from Anton, and it must have been because he’d told him to take Honeysuckle out of his investigation.
It read: Farrago’s. 10 minutes. Click on map.
Without stopping to question his motives, he clicked on the map.
* * * * *
When they were upon it, he reached out to snag her loosely about the wrist.
“Pit stop,” he said, steering her into the shop.
Inside, Honeysuckle came to an abrupt stop, her eyes going round as she took in display after display of jewelry.
“Adam,” Honeysuckle whispered, “what is this place?”
“Welcome to Farrago’s, jeweler to the royal house of Zarrenburg,” an elderly gentleman said as he came out from behind the counter. “You are Ms. Hawk?”
Honeysuckle slid wary eyes to Adam. “You’re kidding me.”
“Not actually kidding, no.”
“I have time to show you around my workshop,” said the man, “if that is acceptable?”
Again, Honeysuckle’s gaze slid back to Adam’s for confirmation. “I don’t understand.” A clouded look came into her eyes. “Is this some sort of test?” she asked quietly.
He shook his head. The fact that he had brought her inside—that he hadn’t simply ignored Anton’s text—had to mean he was starting to believe that wasn’t her on the tape, didn’t it?
“I don’t know what to say.”
“Don’t say anything. Just…enjoy.”
She turned back to Mr. Farrago with a huge smile on her face. As Adam followed her into the back of the shop, he noticed her arms tucked delightfully behind her back, like a kid in a store who’d been told not to touch anything.
Adam lifted a hand to rub absentmindedly over his heart.
* * * * *
Honeysuckle could barely take it all in as she and Adam sat in Mr. Farrago’s tiny workshop while he showed them his past designs and the design he was working on at the moment, a necklace of emeralds and diamonds for Queen Izabella.
Honeysuckle gaped at the size of the Colombian emeralds he was going to set into the diamond-encrusted interweaving stems that formed the central piece of the necklace.
She watched enthralled as he hand-drilled holes for the diamonds he was going to set into the clasp.
When he handed her his sketchbook of designs and showed how they went from initial sketch to computer program, her face ached, she was smiling so much. She leaned forward to better see, and Mr. Farrago clasped hold of her hand and pointed to her Steel Hawk key.
“My dear, what an exquisite combination.”
“Oh. Thank you. I wanted it to balance out the masculinity of the Steel Hawk logo, and I wanted it to be suitable for the coronation ball last night, so I thought graduated pearls and diamond spacers. For balance and beauty.”
“You have a very good eye. This is a one-off design?”
“Yes, a one-off. I—” Honeysuckle broke off suddenly.
Oh my God.
She knew exactly how she could prove to Adam that the woman in that video wasn’t her.
“I am sorry. Mr. Farrago, I am afraid we have taken up too much of your time.” Hopping off a wooden stool, she cast Adam a quick look and held out her hand to the jeweler.
“It has been a pleasure talking shop with you, Ms. Hawk. I hope that you will keep in touch.”
Honeysuckle touched her heart with her hand. “I would be honored to be able to talk over designs with you. I look forward to seeing the finished piece you are creating,” she said, walking as quickly as was polite to the shop door.
Outside, she grabbed Adam’s hand and headed for the car.
“What was the quick exit all about?” Adam queried.
“I know how I can prove to you that wasn’t me with Edward last night,” she said.
“Honeysuckle, I—”
“Trust me,” she said, whipping her head back to look at him, and wincing when she realized her poor ch
oice of words. “I’ll explain when we get back to the car. Hurry up,” she said when he hung back staring at her.
Inside the car, out of the wind and cocooned in heat, she said, “Are you able to access that video from last night via your cell phone?”
Adam’s lips formed a thin line. “I’m not watching that again.”
“I wouldn’t ask if it weren’t vital to explaining how that couldn’t have been me last night.”
He searched her face, and then, after what seemed like a lifetime, pulled out his phone.
“I won’t be able to vouch for the picture quality,” he mumbled, tapping away on the screen to pull up the video.
She knew the moment it appeared on his screen, because his expression changed from grudging to pained.
“Pass it to me, please.”
He took a deep breath and showed her the video playing on his cell phone. She took it from him and glanced down at it. “When I was in that shop talking jewelry, looking at that gorgeous necklace he was making and then talking about my Steel Hawk key, and he was so kind and complimentary about something that I had designed, I can’t tell you how that made me feel. Then, suddenly, I realized. Look,” she said, turning the phone back to him. “Look at her. What is the one thing she isn’t wearing?”
She watched him watching the video and hated seeing the uncertainty at war with the searching, until suddenly he looked up at her.
“She’s not wearing your Steel Hawk key.”
Honeysuckle felt the weight on her shoulders grow wings and prepare to leave. “Exactly. I haven’t taken it off since the day we found it in my apartment.”
He remained silent as he cleared the screen on his phone.
“Tell me you know I haven’t,” she reiterated. “You’ve seen it around my neck on several chains. Okay, I removed it to scan in the symbols this morning, but that librarian was present to see me do it, and then I put it back on again. Damn it, Adam,” she demanded, hearing the note of desperation creep into her voice, “don’t sit there and give me the inscrutable treatment. I—”
Lightning quick, Adam swooped in to give her a fierce kiss.
