Who the hell did the bastard think he was?
He was shaking from head to toe in his fury.
God, he hoped he was wrong…hoped it was all a mistake and that he’d find Drakar alone, that there’d be a simple explanation for the fragments of the note he’d read, as well as Lily’s mysterious absence at this hour.
Colt drew in his breath so sharply, so deeply, his chest ached.
Yes, he hoped he was wrong, all right, because if he wasn’t, he knew he was probably going to kill the son of a bitch with his bare hands.
Antone stared thoughtfully after the young lady he thought so beautiful as she made her way into the hotel. A blessing for the eyes, he reflected. Not many so lovely passed his vision.
He pulled a cheroot from his coat pocket, stepped into the shadows and lit it. No harm in smoking, Monsieur Drakar had told him, so long as the guests did not see him. Well, he supposed it was all right to take a break. This was the slow time of the evening.
An hour or so ago, the snitty miss who’d made such a disgusting scene earlier returned to enter the hotel without so much as a word or a glance in his direction.
Then, just a few moments ago, an agitated young man arrived and seemed upset as he asked the way to Monsieur’s apartment, said he did not need to be announced.
Now the beautiful lady had arrived.
Antone drew on the cheroot thoughtfully, decided he had a right to be annoyed.
After all, if Monsieur was having a party, the least he could have done was tell him about it.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Drake pretended he’d had too much to drink, thinking that could excuse him for resisting Lily’s efforts to get him into bed without offending her.
Since she had arrived, around eight o’clock, she had made it obvious she would prefer to forget the sumptuous dinner he had ordered and make love instead.
Drake wasn’t about to let that happen. Not again. He planned for them to be settled on the sofa directly in the line of vision from the Silver Room, at approximately nine fifteen. By nine thirty, when he expected Colt, he would make sure they were in the midst of a very passionate embrace so Colt would see them immediately.
But dammit, it was not yet nine and Lily was making it difficult to keep on schedule.
“I’m not hungry,” she whined, leaning against him so he could feel her breast pressing. “Not for food, anyway,” she cooed suggestively.
“Not for food,” Drake drunkenly sang, waving his wineglass, “but for spirits! Who needs food when we have the nectar of the gods!”
He pretended to try to stand, deliberately lurching forward as he slurringly complained, “Where’s that wine steward? I told him to bring vodka! I want a man’s drink, not a lady’s tea!”
He fell clumsily into his chair once more, banged his glass on the table irritably.
Lily continued to smile, but her eyes were cold with annoyance. How could she convince him she was the only woman in the world who could satisfy him in bed if she could not get him there? A long, formal dinner was a waste of time. Reaching out to caress his arm, she leaned to kiss his ear and blow gently, warmly, then coaxed, “We’ve had enough to drink, love. We have other, more enjoyable courses on the menu for tonight…” Boldly, she placed a hand on his thigh, gently squeezed, then began to trail anxious fingertips toward his crotch.
Inwardly, Drake moaned. Things could not get out of hand. Colt had to see them kissing—nothing more, because, after the initial shock, he knew all hell was going to break loose. Colt would be furious, Lily would be contrite…probably say she’d been lured there, plied with drink, forced to submit. He knew he was going to have to be in a position to tell Colt it was a setup. If he and Lily were caught in the very act, Colt would never believe it was anything except what it looked like.
He pushed Lily away and this time got to his feet without pretense. Wagging a finger, he feigned admonishment. “No, no, young lady. You will not cheat me of my man’s drink this night. How else can I satisfy a little minx like you? I need all my energy!”
He made his way to the liquor cabinet, effectively stumbling, while Lily stared after him, mildly annoyed but also flattered that he found her passion such a challenge.
Drake was pouring a drink when he felt Lily’s arms go around him.
“I want you, Drakar. Now…” She pressed close.
He could feel the cherry-pit hardness of her nipples through the fabric of his shirt…could subsequently feel his own arousal.
He sucked in his breath as her hands lowered to caress him.
Triumphantly, she cried, “You want me, too, Drakar.”
He twisted away from her clutching hands, forced a laugh as he looked down at her. “My dear, allow me one drink, please, and I promise to love you all night long.” He kissed the tip of her nose, turned once more, heard her sigh with agitation at being put off.
Stealing a look at the clock, he saw it was not quite nine. Damn, how was he going to be able to keep her at bay for over half an hour? Slow and easy lovemaking was the only answer, but as eager as she was, that was going to be a difficult ploy.
He downed the glass of vodka in one gulp, did not mind the familiar burning collision in his stomach. Normally, he preferred to sip the strong Russian drink, but the moment called for quick dullness to his senses.
“Drakar…” she whined, stamping her foot impatiently.
Again, he turned, this time sharply sucking in his breath at the sight of her exposed breasts. She had scooped them from the bodice of her gown, held them cupped in her hands in bold offering. “Take me!” she commanded hoarsely, fiercely. “Now!”
He groaned once more and reached for her, knowing he was in for the most god-awful thirty minutes in his whole life. He was going to have to muster restraint as never before, because no way was he going to give in again.
Lifting her in his arms, he carried her to the sofa and held her across his lap. Obligingly, as their lips met and held in a tongue-scorching kiss, he began to gently squeeze her breasts.
This, he reflected miserably, was not precisely the way he had wanted Colt to step off the elevator and find them.
Suddenly, time ran out.
The elevator doors opened.
Drake froze.
With a loud bellow of rage, Colt burst into the room.
“You son of a bitch!”
Drake released Lily so quickly that he dropped her right on the floor where she landed with an indignant screech followed by a frightened scream as she realized who was there.
She said the first thing that popped into her shocked mind. “Colt, it’s not what you think—”
Drake stood, prepared for the worst.
Colt’s face was red with rage, gray eyes bulging and sparked with fury. His fists clenched and unclenched at his sides as he struggled against the sudden fierce desire to kill them both.
Lily frantically yanked up the bodice of her dress, as she quickly picked herself up off the floor.
Drake eased himself around to stand so that the sofa was between him and Colt. “Let’s talk about this, Colt,” Drake said with more ease than he felt. “I was expecting you, so you know it was a setup…”
“A setup?” Colt bellowed, indignant to realize the bastard would dare to insult his intelligence with such a ridiculous lie. “I just happened to find the note you sent her. Otherwise, I’d probably have gone on being fooled, wouldn’t I?”
Lily was hit with the realization that Drakar had suddenly turned against her and now she stood to lose both of them. Quickly defending herself the fastest way she knew how, she cried, “Oh, Colt, thank God you’re here. He invited me here, said he wanted to talk about your sister, then he put something in my drink, because everything went hazy, and he was pushing me down on the sofa, doing terrible things…”
She began to cry hysterically, attempted to throw herself against Colt for expected comfort, but he roughly slung her away.
Once more Lily found herself sprawled
on the floor.
Colt pointed a finger of warning, eyes narrowed menacingly, voice a harsh rasp as he trembled from head to toe with boiling rage. “Stay away from me with your lies, Lily. I know what I saw, and you aren’t drugged and you weren’t being forced.”
“Calm down and listen, Colt,” Drake urged. “I set this up so you’d see her for what she is. Everything she’s told you is a lie. She never came to Paris looking for her aunt.”
Colt lifted his loathing gaze from Lily cringing beneath him to look at the Russian with equal malice.
“It’s true,” Drake went on quietly, matter-of-factly. “She came here to find a rich man to take care of her because she’s destitute. I heard all about her in London, when she was an old man’s mistress, till he tired of her.”
Lily beat at the air with her fists, lips curled back in a hating snarl. “You bastard! You goddamn, no-good bastard! You’re lying. You tell him you’re lying, or I’ll claw your eyes out—”
She had gotten to her knees, ready to attack Drake with fingers arched, but Colt quickly moved to place one foot against her shoulder and shove her back down. “Best thing you can do is get out of my sight,” he snarled.
Drake seized the opportunity to continue. “I knew who she was that night we all had dinner together. Dani had told me the story about how she came to be at your house, and I knew right away what she was up to.”
Lily screamed, tried to get up again, and Colt once more pushed her back.
“I only wanted to help you, Colt. When Dani told me you were planning to marry her, I knew I had to do something to make sure that never happened.”
Colt had a gut feeling that the other man was telling the truth, yet he felt no gratitude. In that stark moment of cruel and painful awareness, he knew only that once more he had been taken in by a woman. He was flooded with utter and complete humiliation.
The man responsible for this awareness was standing there looking at him in pity.
Colt never liked to be pitied, and with a savage roar, he sprang for him.
Just then, Dani stepped off the elevator. For a second, she merely stood there, eyes sweeping over the scene before her as she attempted to comprehend. What were Colt and Lily doing here, and why was Lily on the floor screaming? Why was Drake standing behind the sofa?
That was the precise moment when Colt lost all his control, dove across the mom to grab Drake around the throat with his outstretched hands, and sent them both crashing to the floor along with a nearby table and lamp.
Dani screamed, rushed forward to command, “Stop it, both of you! Have you gone crazy?”
Drake clutched Colt’s choking hands as his head was banged painfully up and down on the floor. He didn’t want to hit him but neither did he intend to take a beating. He kneed him between his legs, rolled away as Colt released his hold to double over in pain.
It was then Drake realized Dani was there and he felt as though he were the one who’d just been smashed. “It isn’t what you think—”
“Yes it is,” Lily cut him off. “He sent me a note, asked me to come here, then attacked me, and now he’s trying to lie his way out of it. Ask Colt. He found the note and that’s why he’s here.”
Colt was coming out of the sea of pain slowly, but was aware of all that was going on and nodded in agreement.
Drake was unflustered, surely Dani would listen to reason. “I sent a note, but not to Lily. It was to Colt, asking him to come here tonight. It was my intention that he find her here and then realize she didn’t care anything about him and was only after a rich husband.” He shook his head. “I can’t understand how he could have misinterpreted my note.”
Colt sneered, struggled to stand. “You never intended for me to read it at all, you goddamn bastard. Neither did Lily. She thought she tore it up, but I could make out just enough to know who it was from and where she’d gone.”
Drake slammed his hand against his forehead. So! Colt never received the note. Someone else had intercepted it, tried to destroy it. Who and why could be determined later. The important thing at the moment was to do something to smooth over this mess. He did not like the way Dani was looking at him with such pain-filled eyes. He held out a hand to her. “Will you believe me?”
Her voice was so cold, it seemed like an echo from a tomb. “I think I knew all along just what you are but my heart kept arguing with my mind. No more,” she finished quietly, then turned and walked back to the elevator.
“Wait!” Colt hurried to follow, the elevator doors closed.
Drake felt his own anger rising. Was this all he meant to Dani? Was she yet further proof that all women were selfish and willful…just like his mother?
Lily stood, started toward him with a lust for vengeance glittering in blue eyes suddenly black with rage.
Drake regarded her coolly. “The best thing for you to do now, Lily, is to have the elevator sent right back up.”
He turned and walked out of the room.
Despite herself and the rage within, Lily knew he was right.
Cyril eased the window open with little effort or noise. He stepped inside. Dani’s shop was dimly illuminated from the light of a street lamp filtering through the front windows, but he did not need to see to find his way, for he had memorized the interior.
He went directly to the wall where the paintings of the Monaco Find were displayed. He found the one he was after, removed it, stepped back outside the window, the precious painting held tightly against his chest. He did not bother to reclose the window. After all, he wanted to make sure that the burglary looked exactly like what it was—an “inside” conspiracy…only the finger of suspicion would be pointed at Drakar, for he was the one who would be disappearing so suddenly, so mysteriously—not he!
He hurried down the alley, pausing in the shadows only long enough to make sure no one was around, then happily went on his way.
Drake frowned with irritation at the sound of someone knocking. He stood before the door. “Yes, who is it?” Lord, it was after three in the morning.
“Telegram, sir.”
Drake was at once apprehensive. News of his mother’s arrest, then her later escape from Siberia, had come in the night at such an hour.
And he had received the painful news of his father’s death at a similar time.
He took a deep breath of dread, held it, let it out slowly.
“Monsieur Drakar,” the voice said, quietly insistent. “Please, monsieur, I have a telegram for you.”
Drake opened the door and took it, fished in his pocket for a few francs, then closed himself away from the world as he tore open the crisp envelope.
His heart began to pound faster with each word. He’d never heard of the cousin who had sent the message, but that did not matter. No doubt, every kin of Mikhailonov blood and heritage would want to see the honor of the family name restored, and this one, whoever he was, thought he knew where the Fabergé egg was hidden.
Drake was ecstatic and at once began rushing to get his things together. The cousin had intimated he was in danger—the revolutionaries suspected he had important information—and so no time could be lost in enlisting Drake’s help.
He paused, needled with thoughts of Dani.
How he wished there had been time to confide in her, then she could share his joy at this first hope in ten years.
But she hadn’t wanted to share his life…had not cared enough about him to hear him out. And now it was too late.
Another willful, selfish woman. He hated them all! With a sneer, he resumed his packing…all the while knowing that he hated far less than he dared to admit.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Dani was awake but reluctant to rise and face the day. She wondered whether she had even been asleep, for the night was a misty blur of misery.
Drake and Lily.
She squeezed her eyes shut in an attempt to blot out the painful image of them together.
Why?
She had felt she had come to know and
understand Drake, she had believed him not to be as the gossips whispered.
Until last night.
She swiped furiously at a tear with the back of her hand. She would not cry. There was nothing to cry over. She was still herself, her own person, independent and free. Nothing else was of consequence. If he tried to explain, to make peace, she would turn a deaf ear. It was over. Of course, it was actually none of her business whether he saw other women, but she had no intention of wasting her time with a man who could not be trusted. After all, Lily was engaged to her brother, and for Drake to see her was unforgivable.
Finally, she convinced herself that nothing was being accomplished by lying in bed in mortifying reminiscence; life had to continue despite the undeniable aching within.
She bathed, dressed, and went downstairs to her shop to make coffee, determined to stay busy.
She was having her second cup of coffee when Colt walked in, looking as though he had not been to bed. Brow furrowed, eyes puffy and shadowed, he approached her to grimly murmur, “What can I say except that I’m sorry?”
Her heart went out to him but she knew he did not need, or want, her sympathy. “There’s no need to say anything. Coffee?”
“Please.” They went into her little office, and he slumped into a chair.
“Have you been to bed at all, Colt?”
He shook his head. “Afraid not. I went back to the house and I may have dozed some during the night from sheer exhaustion. “Mostly,” he admitted with chagrin, “I was thinking about what a fool I was.”
Wryly, Dani corrected, “What fools we are.”
“Yeah, I guess you could say that. We were both taken in.”
He went on to confide that he reasoned Lily had become desperate. “No doubt she thought that if she couldn’t drag me to the altar, Drake was a viable option.” Looking at his sister thoughtfully, he wondered just how much of his personal life to reveal, then decided maybe he could ease her own pain a bit and bluntly admitted she was the reason he’d had second thoughts about marrying Lily.
Love and Splendor: The Coltrane Saga, Book 5 Page 24
