Текст книги "Rock Redemption"

Автор книги: Nalini Singh

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Текущая страница: 8 (всего у книги 22 страниц)

The text read:

It looks like rising star Kathleen Devigny is following in the footsteps of her Last Flight costar, JJ Hughes, in dating not one of her fellow actors but a member of the crew. While JJ is now pregnant with her first child with her cameraman boyfriend, sources tell us that Kathleen’s romance with scriptwriter Terrence Gates is only beginning.

 

This exclusive shot shows her arriving at Gates’s home around seven last night. Sadly for Gates, she left at eleven. However, from the rumored smile on his face as he walked her back to her car, the night was a promising one for the talented scriptwriter who already has a Golden Globe under his belt.

 

Watch this space for more on this developing Tinseltown romance.

Chapter 14

The Saturday of the gala came around before Kit knew it. It felt strange to her to be dressing for an evening out with Noah when she was now officially seeing another man, but Terrence remained fine with her attending the event. Partly because, as a result of work pressures, they’d only just gone on their third official date, so things were still new, and partly because Terrence knew Noah’s reputation.

“He’s taking you so his parents won’t hassle him about bringing his latest flavor of the night, right?” Terrence had said to her on the phone yesterday, not long after she’d finished a workout with Steve.

Lying flat on her back on the exercise mat, Kit had agreed—Noah’s strained relationship with his parents wasn’t her story to share.

Now she finished up the old-Hollywood glamour look she’d chosen for the night, her eyes deceptively simple but her lips coated in glossy scarlet. She’d parted her hair in the center and pulled it gently back into a deliberately soft knot, allowing a few tendrils to escape.

Normally she’d have asked Becca to do her makeup and hair, but given her friend’s loyal dislike of Noah, she’d decided on discretion and fallen back on Adreina’s teachings. At least with a look this classic, there wasn’t much she could mess up.

As for the dress—she rarely wore black, but Noah’s family was old-school, and this dress would fit right in while standing out, exactly what an A-list actress was supposed to do.

The latter words were Thea’s. “You’re hot right now, sweetie,” the other woman had said. “But you aren’t yet molten, and your place on the A-list isn’t set in stone.”

 Blunt as always when it came to the industry, Thea had gone on to add, “The movies you’ve got on your slate will get you some traction, but we also need to capitalize on the current level of interest—part of that is continuing to build your image as elegant, stylish, and intelligent.”

“Thea, this is Noah’s deal.”

“It might be his deal, but as a woman you’ll be photographed as often, if not more,” Thea had reminded her. “The intelligent part is a given since this is a private gala hosted in the home of a renowned art collector. For elegant and stylish, the gown is going to be key, makeup to be decided once we find that gown.”

In the end, the two of them had settled on this sleeveless but not strapless floor-length gown that skimmed her body to the hips before opening out into a gorgeous skirt created of multiple layers of material. It draped in a way that meant it had a lovely flow in motion and a stunning line when she was still. The back was a deep vee, but not so deep that she was in danger of looking trashy, while the front neckline was cut straight across at an angle that gave the dress a point of interest suited to the high-class charity/arts event.

Jewels glinted in the light, the only hint of color in the entire outfit coming from her polished green nails and the long emerald-and-diamond earrings borrowed from a jeweler. She acted as his walking billboard; he gave her gemstones she couldn’t otherwise afford—courtesy of Thea’s contacts.

Thea had laughed when Kit sent her a photo from the nail salon earlier today. “I love it. Kathleen Devigny is still Kathleen Devigny, even when she’s going to a stuffy gala. No blending in for you.”

Slipping her feet into ankle-breaker Jimmy Choos that exposed her painted toenails when the dress moved, she picked up her simple black clutch and took a deep breath, released it as slowly. “I’m his friend, and he needs a friend tonight.”

The intercom buzzed, Butch letting her know they’d cleared Noah through.

“A friend,” she repeated again and walked to the door.

She opened it just as a gleaming black limo came to a stop in front of it. Noah exited from the front passenger seat a second later, and all the breath just whooshed out of her. He was always gorgeous, reminding her of a young lion in the summer when his hair turned streaky gold, but today he could’ve stood in as Prince Charming or as James Bond, depending on the smile he pulled out.

But the smile he gave her was wary.

“Wow.” Coming to the door, he stared at her, a sexy, beautiful man in a classic tuxedo that perfectly fit his frame. He was built like a model, she thought suddenly. Lean muscle, wide shoulders, slim hips.

“Wow yourself,” she replied after catching her breath. “You do clean up pretty.”

Some of the wariness receded. “Shall we go?”

Suddenly unable to bear the strain and distance between them, she said, “Feel in the mood for a friendly wager?”

He tilted his head to the side.

“As soon as the photos of you in this tux start hitting the airwaves, I bet Thea starts getting calls from designers who want to dress you or get you to front their campaigns.”

“Not happening. One night does not turn a sow’s ear into a silk purse.”

She knew the fashion world far better than he did, was conscious it could turn on a dime and that the rules were different for men and women. As long as Noah looked this hot in their clothes when he wore them, the designers wouldn’t care what he wore the rest of the time. In fact, the contrast would only heighten interest. “So, bet?”

“Bet. Stakes?”

She tapped a finger against her hip. “If I win, you have to hunt down this specific plant I want for my garden—it can only be ordered from a cantankerous old gardener in Kyoto, Japan who refuses to sell to anyone he hasn’t met in person and vetted.”

“So let me get this right,” Noah said, eyes narrowing. “I’d have to not only fly to Japan, I’d have to win the approval of a crusty old man who might kick me out on my ass without a plant?”

“Yep.”

“In that case, if I win”—that troublemaker’s grin that had been missing till now—“you have to get onstage at the next Schoolboy Choir concert, whenever that might be, and sing a duet with me.”

Her mouth dropped open. “And humiliate myself in front of thousands, maybe millions, if the video goes viral? I don’t think so.”

“You have a good voice.”

“For karaoke!” She folded her arms. “You’d only be humiliated in front of one old man who won’t even care who you are.”

“Fine, chicken.” Her grim-eyed response made his grin widen. “You just have to sing solo in front of the guys, Molly, and Thea. Song of my choice.”

“Done.” She set her alarm, then pulled the door shut.

Noah put his hand on her lower back as they moved to the limo, and that was when Kit realized exactly how bad a choice she’d made with this dress. That sexy vee at the back? It meant his rough, callused fingertips would rasp against her skin each time he placed his hand on her back—and no matter the dip in her stomach, the shiver that wanted to ripple over her skin, she couldn’t tell him to stop.

If she did, it would make them appear stiff and awkward in photos. That would spark far more rumors than if they acted naturally, one friend agreeing to act as a date for a family event of the other. So she’d suck it up and deal with the fact that in spite of her decision to move on, the chemistry was stronger than ever, electricity crackling over her skin.

“So,” she said once they were in the limo, the soundproof privacy screen up, “remind me of everyone in your family.”

Bracing his arm along the back of the seat, he undid the buttons on the tuxedo jacket and turned toward her, the crisp white of his shirt stretching across his chest. “My father is a criminal lawyer—Robert.”

“Not just a criminal lawyer,” Kit interrupted. “He’s a pretty big deal, right?”

“Yeah. He’s a shark.” A shrug. “Mom’s Virginia, a political lobbyist turned lady-who-lunches; she sits on countless charity boards to salve her conscience for having no moral compass.”

Kit frowned. “Why are you always so hard on your mom?” He didn’t get along with his father, but he always seemed far angrier at his mother.

A faint smile that wasn’t a smile at all. “Because I’m an entitled brat.”

“Noah.”

“Katie,” he said in the same tone. “Forget about my fucked-up relationship with my parents—it’s a hellhole of no return.”

“What about Emily? Will she be there?”

“No, she’s away at school.” A real smile at the mention of his sister. “My aunt Margaret, the one who’s spearheading this gala, is my father’s much younger sister. She lived with us when I was a child.” Shadows darkened his eyes. “Margaret didn’t want them to send me to boarding school, but she was only a kid then, still in high school, so she couldn’t stop them.”

The smile returned before she could say anything.

“But that worked out all right—met Fox my first day at the school.” He ran his hand through his hair, messing up the neat strands and exposing a hint of the song lyrics tattooed on his inner wrist. “Aunt Margaret used to visit me once she was in college and could come down without my parents knowing. After she went to Europe for her postgrad, she sent me postcards and letters, presents for no reason.”

A pause, his next words quiet. “She got sick soon after that, was in the hospital for a long time. My parents wouldn’t let me visit except during official school vacations, so we didn’t have as much contact when I was a teenager, but she never forgot me.”

As his parents had forgotten him, Kit completed silently, hurting for the gifted, lonely boy become a rebellious teenager. Making the conscious decision to follow a happier thread, she said, “How did you and Fox end up roommates?”

“The school was full of rich kids,” he told her, not seeming to realize he was brushing his fingers over her nape.

Kit let it go rather than turning it into a big deal, though it was causing goose bumps up and down her body.

“It was exclusive and out in the middle of nowhere,” Noah continued, “lots of trees and playing fields. But they had this policy that no matter who your parents or grandparents were, you had to share a room.”

“Some parents must’ve complained.”

“Sure, but the school wouldn’t budge, and it had serious high-powered parental support. In the end, most people came around, because the school pitched it as networking from an early age.”

Laughing, he shook his head. “I used to say bullshit until Abe pointed out how many of our schoolmates are now in politics, law, other positions of power. I kid you not, one of the kids I used to get into trouble with doing illegal experiments in chemistry is now a head honcho at the NSA—we had a drink last time he was in town.”

“Talk about contacts!” Kit said with a shake of her head.

Noah’s fingers slid across her sensitive skin again, and at last he seemed to notice what he was doing. His eyes locked with hers, her breath held in her lungs, the moment full of so many words unspoken that it was a crushing pressure in the air. “Fox and you,” she prompted softly, because those words had to remain unspoken.

For her own sanity. For the friendship Noah needed.

Jaw a harsh line, he said, “I’d never shared with anyone, and Fox grew up with his grandparents, without any brothers and sisters, so we walk in and sit on our beds, staring at each other.” Noah could remember the knot in his stomach, the sour taste in his mouth, the cold fingers crawling down his back.

The idea of having to sleep in a room with a stranger, even if that stranger was a boy as small as him, a boy with green eyes and dark brown hair, had almost been enough to thrust Noah into panicked shock. “Then,” he continued, “Fox says, ‘Did you see we have a pet spider?’”

Kit’s shudder was so girlish he smiled. “A pet spider?”

“It was this huge black thing with skinny legs in one corner of the room. We spent an hour watching it spin its web, and we were cool after that.” It had been that simple, and yet not. Because that night Noah had a nightmare that left him huddled in another corner, shivering so hard his teeth had clattered against each other; Fox had come over and sat with him, bringing a blanket to cover them both.

That was the moment that had bonded them forever.

It wasn’t until he was much older that Noah understood Fox’s courage in making the first move by speaking about the spider. Unlike Noah, Fox didn’t come from wealth. He’d been dumped at the school because no one wanted him, the school’s wealthy environs unfamiliar and scary.

“Boys.” Kit shook her head on the affectionate word. “Did your pet spider survive?”

“We kept it safe for a while, but the cleaners came in one day while we were out, and we never saw Mr. Legs again.” His muscles began to coil as they turned into the drive that led to the magnificent Beverly Hills mansion that was the site of tonight’s gala.

The Tierney estate belonged to a renowned and somewhat eccentric art collector who also happened to be a close friend of his aunt’s. “Ready for the circus?” he said to Kit. “I heard Tierney has his own personal mummy.”

She reached up to fix his hair, the small intimacy doing things to him he couldn’t name. “We can sneak away and go hunt for it if the gala gets too boring.”

“Deal.”

The limo came to a halt at the bottom of the red carpet, which fell in a cascade down the mansion’s museum-worthy front steps and continued on down the drive until it hit the drop-off point at the top of the circular turnaround for vehicles. Beyond was a much longer drive down which they’d just driven, and on either side of the red carpet—corralled behind thick velvet ropes—buzzed a phalanx of black-tie-clad photographers and reporters who’d been given a media pass to the event.

Noah opened his own door rather than waiting for the limo driver and stepped out while doing up the tux jacket, then held out his hand for Kit. She slipped her warm, slender hand into his, and his skin tightened, his body attuned to her on a level that was primal and hotly possessive.

And then she was standing with him, a stunning woman with a heart big enough to forgive him for the worst mistake of his life, to trust him once again with the gift of her friendship. He wouldn’t fuck it up this time.

No matter how loud the demons howled.

The cameras had started flashing the instant he exited the limo, but they went insane as he and Kit moved down the red carpet. He kept his hand on Kit’s back throughout, loathe to have the other men here believe she was on her own. Because she wasn’t. For this one night, she was his.

“Kathleen! Kathleen! Who’s your date?” a photographer called out. “What’s his name?”

Laughing, Kit turned her face up toward him, then they turned as a couple to the media. The flashbulbs were blinding, questions and exclamations rising in a roar as the photographers and reporters clicked on the identity of her date.

“Jesus,” Noah muttered without making a face because he didn’t want to ruin the photos, conscious this was an important opportunity for Kit. “It’s a penguin suit, people.”

“I hope your passport’s up-to-date,” Kit said on a dazzling smile. “Japan’s calling.”

“You haven’t won yet.” Coiled muscles eased, his cheeks creasing in a real smile. “I’m not getting any excited calls from Thea.”

“Pfft, the night is young, and you’re looking so pretty.” She moved with him to one of the official gala photographers on their side of the velvet rope, posing gracefully beside him. Then, bowing to requests, she stepped away to give the other photographers the solo shots they wanted of her and her gown.

Noah pretended not to hear the bloodthirsty mob calling for his own solo shots. This was why he didn’t fucking wear suits or brush his hair. It made him too goddamn pretty, though at least he’d grown into his face so that he had a harder edge.

Taking out his phone, he grabbed a few shots of Kit. She blew him a kiss, her eyes bright. Grinning at the resulting image, he asked her to strike a pose. The photographers went wild, clicking along with him. When she finally waved them down and walked over, he immediately placed his hand on her lower back, the silken warmth of her a near-painful pleasure.

“I didn’t realize how huge the media presence would be,” Kit said to him as they climbed the steps, Kit holding her dress just an inch off the carpet with flawless grace. “You’ve done me a huge favor, Noah. This kind of exposure…” She shook her head. “Money can’t buy it.”

“I have a feeling Thea leaked the news we’d be here.” Noah had intense appreciation for Thea’s smarts as a publicist. “She probably hooked up with Aunt Margaret to offer media privileges to an extended number of photographers.” A win-win situation for the charity and for Kit.

Kit bit her lower lip. “Of course she did—I didn’t even think about that. Do you mind?”

“Why would I mind? If I can help your career, I will.” Sadly, Kit’s shining talent wasn’t enough—she also had to win the media war, had to become a public darling America and the world wanted to see on-screen. “Speaking of which, you should turn here.” Her position on the steps, with the majestic columns of the mansion behind her, would make for a fantastic shot.

“Thanks.” Kit’s smile hit him right in the solar plexus. “I’m kind of high from the night already—it’s fun.”

“Yeah, it is,” he said, stepping away so she could be in the spotlight. He loved watching her move, loved watching her sparkle. The night was fun, but only because she was with him.

When she held out a hand, he took position beside her and they let the photographers snap a few shots of them together.

“Into the cauldron,” he said when they turned to continue on up to the entrance. The closer they got to the doors, the harder his muscles bunched, until by the time they cleared the entrance, he felt as if he was made of stone.

Chapter 15

His aunt was standing near the entrance with her partner of many years, Louise. Seeing him, she beamed and walked over as fast as she could in her elegant red gown, a petite powerhouse with golden hair cut in a chic bob, and brilliant blue eyes.

“My favorite boy,” she said, giving him a tight hug. “I’m so happy you came. And look at you!” She patted the front of his tuxedo jacket.

“Only for you, Aunt Margaret,” Noah said, bending to accept a kiss on the cheek before turning to Kit. “If you don’t recognize Kit, I’ll disown you.”

“Noah!”

Laughing at Kit’s scandalized response, his aunt took Kit’s hand in her own. “I’m in awe of your talent, my dear.”

“The admiration is mutual.” Kit’s response was warm, her smile lighting up the room. “Everything looks incredible. I hope the gala raises hundreds of thousands of dollars for the foundation.”

“Oh, we’ll get it,” his aunt said, her tone steely. “Even if I have to stand over people to get them to open their wallets for the auction.” A wink. “At least I know one donor who won’t stiff me.”

Noah pretended to look up at the high ceiling as if fascinated by the old-fashioned moldings.

“Don’t make me twist your ear, Noah St. John.”

Grinning, he hugged his aunt with one arm. “I already transferred the money to the foundation’s account. Tonight I’m just going to outbid people to drive up prices for the auction items, then drop out so they’re stuck with paying but feeling like they got one over on the brat rock star.”

Kit nudged her shoulder to his in laughing agreement while Margaret’s responding expression held pure glee.

“That’s why I love you. Go on and mingle, you two. Prepare for a few starstruck types—they might be rich, but most can only aspire to bad reality television.” She put a neatly manicured hand on Kit’s arm. “There are a few people you might want to meet. Noah, make sure you introduce her to Cyril King and Lisa Fei.”

Kit recognized both names. Talk about money people. Slipping her arm through Noah’s as they left his aunt to move deeper into the huge atrium space that made the mansion perfect for gala events, she said, “I’m starting to feel guilty. I came to support you, but I seem to be getting everything.”

“Are you kidding?” Noah’s upper arm muscles grew rigid under her fingertips. “I’d already be climbing the walls if you weren’t with me.” He grabbed two flutes of champagne, handing her one and gulping half of his.

“Hey.” She put her frown in her voice, not her face, aware they were the focus of multiple pairs of curious eyes. “No getting drunk on champagne.” As far as she knew, Noah was always sober in public, but after the motel incident, Kit wasn’t taking any chances.

A stormy, dark gray glance that held echoes of the icy cold with which she’d seen him shut down others.

“Damn it,” he muttered. “Stop being the voice of reason.”

No cold there; he sounded almost sulky.

Lips twitching, she squeezed his arm. “Shall we go say hello to your parents? We can do it quick.”

“No.” With that flat statement, he turned her to the right. “Let’s go talk to Cyril instead. He’s a windbag but a funny one most of the time.”

However, they’d only gone a few feet when Noah was stopped by an older couple who looked very, very blue-blooded.

“Noah,” the lady said with a tight smile that seemed congenital. “It’s good to see you here.”

“Aunt Althea, Uncle Donald.” Ice now, each word dripping with it. “This is Kathleen.”

“Charmed, my dear.” Another prunish pursing of lips from the woman. “My grandchild tells me you’re to be a green… creature in your next movie.”

Kit put light pressure on Noah’s arm when his muscles bunched again. “Yes,” she said with her most dazzling smile, happy to see the male of the pair blink. “It was fun.”

 “If you’ll excuse us,” Noah said coolly before his aunt could speak again. “I think I see my mother.” As they moved off, he slid away his arm to put his hand on her lower back again. “I’m sorry about that.”

Kit felt her eyes threaten to burn at the protective way he was trying to surround her, subtly angling his big shoulders to cut off those who might interrupt them. “Dear Aunt Althea looks like she walks around with a permanent bug up her butt—I’m not about to take anything she says to heart.”

Not seeing Virginia St. John, she said, “Where’s your mom?”

“Who knows? I just wanted to get away from old Turnip Face.”

Kit’s shoulders shook. “That’s awful.”

“Every time I came home from boarding school, she’d visit and she’d look me up and down like a piece of disappointing meat.”

“I hate her on your behalf.”

His smile reached his eyes. “Can I drink the rest of my champagne?”

“No. You need to keep a clear head so you can outbid everyone without ending up with a hideous souvenir,” she whispered as they reached the long table that held the items up for auction. “Look at that piece. Who thinks that’s art?”

“I think that plate’s worse.” He moved his hand slightly on her back. “Looks like a drunk threw up and decided to capture it in porcelain and paint.”

“Should I help you drive up the bids?” she said mischievously. “Bet we could get this up to at least ten thousand.”

“Aunt Margaret will love you for it.”

“Noah.”

Noah’s spine stiffened at that patrician male voice. Forcing himself to keep his face expressionless, he turned toward a man who looked like an older version of him—except that Robert St. John had shorter hair that had turned a pure white and his face was set in hard lines. Noah’s face could look like that too, but it wasn’t his default face. This was his father’s default—if it wasn’t, Noah didn’t know it, since it was the only face he ever saw.

“Dad,” he said, keeping it civil because Kit was with him. “Where’s Mom?”

“Virginia is speaking to Althea.” Robert turned the glacial gray of his eyes to Kit. “Ms. Devigny, I’m happy to see you here. I know you and Noah have been friends for a long time.”

“I’m delighted to be here with him.”

Robert faced Noah again—except of course, he never quite faced Noah. His gaze was always a little to the left or the right. Robert St. John couldn’t bear to look at the son he’d once proudly called his heir.

“I heard your concert tour was a success.”

“Yes.”

Kit covered the strained silence that followed his curt response. “I attended the New York show, and it was incredible. They blew the roof off.”

“Yes, I hear the band is powerful in concert.” A faint smile. “I wanted Noah to practice law, but as usual, he’s gone his own way.”

“Noah, darling.” His mother, skinny and sharp and fashionable, appeared around the side of his father. Unlike Robert, she didn’t even attempt to look at him, her gaze blank and deliberately unfocused as she rose toward him.

Noah turned his face so her attempt at getting a cheek kiss from him turned into an air-kiss against his own cheek. It was the best he could do for the woman who’d abandoned him when he’d needed her most.

Robert had been a distant figure throughout Noah’s childhood, always at court or at his office, but Virginia had been an involved mother. She’d taken Noah to nursery school, picked him up afterward, driven him to swimming lessons, then helped him study so he’d be smart going into elementary school. She’d been the quintessential soccer mom whose world revolved around her son.

Until that son wasn’t perfect anymore.

“Introduce me to your date,” Virginia said now, her social mask in place.

Noah made the introductions. Kit’s gracious warmth softened his own coldness, coldness he couldn’t hide. The ice inside him made him feel brittle, as if he’d crack with even the finest pressure.

“I’m so sorry,” Kit said just when Noah couldn’t take it anymore. “I see a studio exec Noah promised to introduce me to—do you mind if I steal him away?”

Robert and Virginia smiled their acquiescence, but Robert put his hand on Noah’s arm when he would’ve moved past. “I’ll call you tomorrow. We haven’t had a chance to talk properly for months.”

“Sure,” Noah said and moved on, having to fight the urge to brush his hand over his arm to rub off his father’s touch. Robert had stopped touching him in any way when Noah was just seven years old; these days, on the rare occasions when he did, Noah couldn’t stand it.

As for that call, he’d answer it, but only because he owed Robert one for helping out when Molly and Fox had needed urgent legal advice after a massive breach of their privacy during the tour. But any talking would be on Robert’s side—Noah’s father had no right to any part of Noah’s life.

“Hey.” Kit leaned in close, her voice, her scent, cutting through the ice as if it didn’t exist. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” He released a breath he hadn’t known he was holding until the exhale eased the pressure on his chest.

“Drink the rest of that champagne.”

He’d forgotten he was holding it. “No, you’re right. I need a clear head.” Placing the flute on the tray of a passing waiter, he grabbed a glass of ice water instead. “Come on, I’ll introduce you to Lisa.”

“I just said that to get us away.” Kit’s eyes lingered on his face. “We can sneak out now if you want.”

“We have to stay at least until the bidding starts.” Finishing off the water, he set it on another tray. “Thanks. I needed a friend back there.”

Amber eyes glowed with fierce emotion. “No thanks needed.”

The next hour wasn’t bad. He liked being able to introduce Kit to people who could help further her career, but that was as far as he needed to go—soon as someone met her, they were drawn into her orbit.

The clear sound of a bell silvered through the air not long after they’d finished a conversation with Cyril King. A minute later, Margaret went up to the podium to make her speech on behalf of the foundation. Noah listened with half an ear, the rest of his attention on Kit; he didn’t want to waste a minute of this night he’d been given as a gift.

A night where he could pretend he was good enough to stand by her side.

“If you don’t bid during the auction,” Margaret said at the end of her speech, “I’ll hunt you down and guilt you into writing a check, so you might as well get something for it.”

Everyone laughed, the mood happy thanks to the atmosphere, food, and drinks.

The auction began straight afterward, and true to his word, Noah drove up the prices with relentless determination, even acting affronted when he was outbid. He almost went too far with the vomit plate; only Kit’s elbow jab to the ribs stopped him from acquiring the monstrosity.

“I think we’ve done enough,” he whispered, leaning down to her ear.

Kit looked carefully around. “It’s shadowy with the soft lighting, and we’re at the back, while everyone’s looking forward. Let’s go take a break.”

Noah had already spotted the best door; it led deeper into the mansion, and as far as he could tell, it wasn’t locked. Almost there, he saw a waitress about to pass by with hors d’oeuvres. “Thanks,” he said and grabbed the whole tray. Winking at her when her mouth fell open, he slid out the door Kit had already opened. He saw her pick up a couple of glasses of ice water from a tray that had been by the door before she followed him out.

The corridor was only dimly lit, but he could see another hallway to the left. When they reached the spot, they found it barred by a thick red rope. “Place really is like a museum.”

 He jumped over the rope, had the pleasure of watching Kit hike up her dress to expose those knockout legs as she climbed over. His body tightened at the sight, his breath caught in his chest, but he ground down the response. He would not ruin his friendship with Kit for sex. Sex meant nothing. Kit meant everything.

“Hey, look.” She pointed to a suit of armor down at the end, her voice a whisper. “I wonder if it’s one of Tierney’s exhibit rooms? Do you think he has the mummy in there?”

Grinning at one another, they walked quickly down the carpeted hallway and into a large room filled with plinths on which stood busts, vases, other objets d’art. Each piece was spotlighted from above, but that was the only light in the room. Not gloomy, more atmospheric.