Gift of Gold (46 page)

“You’re on,” she agreed and yanked the sheet down past his hips. For an instant she stared at the aroused, aggressive fullness she found there. “No, I take that back. You’re up.”

“You could say that.”

She reached out to touch him intimately, loving the contrast between the rock-hardness of his shaft and the velvety skin that covered it. Some of the teasing light left Jonas’s eyes and was replaced by a familiar male hunger.

“Oh, yes, sweetheart,” he breathed, “that’s it. Your hands always feel so good. So damn good.”

Verity slipped her fingers down to cup the swelling mounds at the base of his shaft. She leaned forward and dropped a tiny kiss on one male nipple. Jonas’s groan of pleasure came from deep in his chest. His legs shifted under the sheet and his fingers tangled in her hair.

Verity gave herself up to the joy of making love to him. She moved over him with growing delight, tasting him with the tip of her tongue, exploring him with fingers that were sensitive to every reaction they elicited.

She slid down the length of him, dropping warm, damp kisses in her wake until she reached the rough, curly hair that framed his manhood. Her own red hair spilled across his flat stomach as she boldly brushed her mouth against the pulsing hardness of him. Jonas’s whole body seemed to clench in reaction. His hips lifted, silently pleading for more of the erotic attention.

Verity obliged willingly, thrilled by his response. It was unbelievably exciting to be able to excite this man. It gave her a heady feeling of feminine power that was unlike anything she had known.

“Jonas?” she whispered softly.

He grunted and used his palm against the back of her head to hold her where he wanted her. She took him into her mouth and Jonas sucked in his breath.

“That’s it, babe,” he gasped. “That’s it.”

He tasted hot and male and musky. Verity sampled him carefully and then bravely experimented with her teeth.

“
Verity!
”

She freed him and scrambled up to sit astride his thighs. Her fingers splayed across his chest as she gripped him firmly with her legs. “How am I doing?” she asked throatily as she eased herself down until he was at the entrance of her small passage.

Jonas opened his eyes, his expression taut with desire. “Don’t worry,” he muttered, “you have my vote for the Most Wicked Woman of the Year award. Stop tormenting me and get on with the job.”

Verity laughed down at him and then gasped as he tightened his fingers around her legs and pushed her bent knees farther apart. The action forced her to sink quickly, more quickly than she had planned, and he rose to meet her. He thrust himself swiftly and deeply into her.

“Talk about wicked seducers,” she complained in a thick, husky tone as she tried to adjust to the sudden intrusion.

“Show me how much you want me, sweetheart.”

She obeyed, glorying in the excitement they created between them, loving the feel of him deep inside her and the sense of possession she felt.

When their tightly wound spring of passion came apart in a shattering release, Verity collapsed across Jonas, clinging to him as if he were a lifeline in a storm. His body shuddered heavily again and again as he poured himself into her, then he held her fiercely against his damp chest.

When it was all over Verity opened her eyes and accepted the fact that she was in love with Jonas Quarrel. She was contemplating that when she happened to glance at the clock beside the bed.

“Jonas, the auction! I almost forgot.” Verity lifted herself quickly, slithering to the side of the bed. “Hurry. It’s due to start in an hour.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

She turned at the doorway of the bathroom. “Caitlin’s auction,” she explained impatiently. “Remember? As far as the bidders are concerned, nothing was canceled in spite of all the drama last night. It’s true they all got kicked out of the house, but my guess is they’ll be showing up at the appointed time this morning for the bidding. Those collectors aren’t the kind of people to let a little thing like death and violence get in the way of getting hold of Caitlin Evanger’s last painting. Heck, the story of what happened last night will only make
Bloodlust
more valuable. And when those bidders show up, I have a hunch Caitlin will go ahead with the auction.”

“So what?” Jonas reluctantly swung his legs over the edge of the bed and winced. His hand went to the bandage on his arm. His expression was distinctly surly.

Verity ignored his change of mood and went into the bathroom. “So I think Tavi might be right. I think Caitlin will fall apart if she actually sells
Bloodlust.
She’s obsessed with it.”

“Personally, I do not give a damn.” Jonas appeared in the bathroom doorway.

“Well, I do. Caitlin has been through too much to go under now.”

Jonas lounged against the doorjamb. He folded his arms. “You’re going to save her?”

“If I can.” Verity stepped into the shower just as Jonas swore and muttered something under his breath.

“What was that?” she called over the roar of the water.

“I said,” he yelled back, “that you just lost your chance at the Most Wicked Woman of the Year award. Talk about innocence!”

Chapter
Twenty

Verity
saw the cops parked in the driveway of the gray house as soon as she and Jonas rounded the last bend of the cliff-edge highway. She sat forward nervously, hoping she wasn’t too late.

“Hurry, Jonas.”

“Calm down. This is a crazy idea to begin with, but there’s no point in working yourself up into a frenzy over it.”

“You don’t understand. Tavi was right to be so worried about the sale of
Bloodlust.
Nobody knows what will happen to Caitlin if she auctions it off.”

“If you want my opinion, Caitlin Evanger is a survivor,” Jonas grumbled. “She won’t commit suicide just because
Bloodlust
is
out of her life.”

“She might not kill herself,” Verity agreed slowly, “but I have a feeling she’ll commit professional suicide. Tavi thinks she’ll never paint again.”

“No loss.”

“That’s not true! The woman is a brilliant artist.”

Verity was charged with anxious energy. She threw open the car door before Jonas had switched off the ignition. Without waiting for him she broke into a run, heading toward the front door of the house. She rang the bell, and when there was no immediate answer she pounded on the door.

“They’re probably all on the third floor in the room where the painting was stored,” Jonas said, coming up behind her. He reached around Verity and turned the doorknob. The gray door swung inward, revealing a silent hall. “Go to it, heroine.”

Verity needed no urging. She dashed down the hall toward the stainless steel staircase. The house was far too quiet, she realized as she pounded up the stairs. Jonas loped behind her, keeping up with her without appearing to exert himself. He had a knack for doing everything in a nonchalant fashion, Verity decided resentfully. Even running. The perfect Renaissance courtier. She was already wet under her arms.

Then she remembered that Jonas did not make love to her nonchalantly. The realization made her feel better.

Breathing heavily, she reached the top floor and raced down the hall to the studio. The door stood open and as Verity came to a skittering halt she saw that she had guessed right.

Five very serious people—three men and two women, ranging in age from thirty to seventy—were standing in front of
Bloodlust.
Their gazes were riveted to the painting. Caitlin stood beside it, leaning most of her weight on her ebony cane. Her striking face looked drawn and grim.

It was Tavi who turned first to see who stood in the doorway, and her eyes flickered with faint hope. The five bidders paid little attention to the newcomer, and Caitlin merely glanced at Verity and shook her head.

“You shouldn’t have come back,” Caitlin said. “We’re almost finished here.”

“I had to come back.” Verity drew in a deep breath and walked into the room. “I’m your friend, remember? One of the only two friends you’ve got.”

Tavi closed her eyes and a tear trickled down her cheek. “It’s too late,” she whispered. “It was always too late.”

A portly man in a gray suit spoke up. “I believe the last bid was mine. Are there any more bids?”

“Not so fast,” Jonas advised laconically from the doorway. He surveyed the room full of collectors. “I know that what happened here last night makes
Bloodlust
more interesting than ever, but I’m afraid you’re going to have to contain your enthusiasm for a while. Verity is in charge right now.”

The portly man scowled. “What do you mean, she’s in charge?”

Jonas smiled lopsidedly. “You’re about to suffer at the whim of a tyrant. It’s an interesting experience.”

“What the devil is going on here?” one of the women bidders demanded. “I’m here to conduct business. I am prepared to top Rossander’s bid.”

Verity glanced at her. “Save your money. The painting is not for sale.” There were shocked gasps on all sides. She ignored them and kept walking toward Caitlin. En route she passed the worktable that held Caitlin’s tools. She snatched up a small blade used for cutting canvas. Then she went-straight toward
Bloodlust.

“Hey, wait one goddamned minute,” someone shouted, apparently realizing belatedly what was about to happen.

“Jonas,” Verity said quietly, not looking back at him.

“Sorry, folks,” Jonas said mildly. “But I work for her. Anyone moves, he’s going to have to move through me.”

Five stunned faces turned toward him. No one moved. Verity came to a halt in front of
Bloodlust
and looked at Caitlin who hadn’t taken her eyes off of her. “You don’t need this painting any longer, Caitlin.”

“What are you going to do?” Caitlin asked in a dull voice.

“I’m going to get it out of your life. Permanently.” Verity lifted the small blade and began slashing the canvas into ribbons.

There were a few screams of protest from the crowd of horrified bidders, but no one dared to try stopping her. There were advantages to having someone like Jonas in one’s employ, Verity thought wryly.

Methodically she completed her task, taking her time and doing a thorough job. When
Bloodlust
had been reduced to a pile of tatters, she turned to Tavi.

“Burn it.”

Tavi nodded and quickly knelt to pick up the pieces of the destroyed painting. She scooped up everything and hurried out of the room.

“Goddammit,” the man called Rossander said fiercely. “Godammit to hell. You just destroyed a fortune, lady.
A fortune.
I
ought to—”

“That’s enough,” Jonas said from the doorway. Rossander, who had started to take a step toward Verity, came to a sputtering halt.

Verity ignored both of them. She was watching Caitlin.
“
Bloodlust
is not going to be the last Caitlin Evanger painting after all, is it, Caitlin? The past is behind you. Now you can start living your present and your future.”

Caitlin’s masklike face slowly began to crumble. A silvery moisture appeared in her eyes. Verity stepped forward and took Caitlin into her arms, holding the tall woman while the tears streamed down her face. And then Verity, too, was crying. No one moved. A few minutes later, Tavi reappeared in the doorway.

She went to where Verity and Caitlin stood, put her arms around both of them, and cried, too. She touched Verity gently. Verity looked at her and saw that Tavi was smiling a little through the dampness.

“Thank you,” Tavi said softly. “I think it’s going to be all right now.”

Verity nodded her understanding.

“Auction’s over,” Jonas quietly told the five confounded and irate bidders. “It’s time to leave.”

Nobody argued with him.

Three days later Verity left her kitchen in search of Jonas. She had really had it this time. The man had disappeared with a six-pack out of the No Bull’s refrigerator right after he’d finished washing the noon dishes. He knew perfectly well she expected him to give her a hand cleaning out the cupboards this afternoon. She had distinctly told him so this morning. He was supposed to be a handyperson in addition to being a dishwasher.

Verity made her way up the path toward her father’s cabin with steely determination. She knew exactly where to find both men.

She was not disappointed. They were lounging on the porch, drinking beer and reading. Her father was immersed in a fishing magazine and Jonas, bare to the waist, was scanning Sequence Springs’s one daily newspaper. Neither man looked up as Verity came to a halt at the bottom of the steps, her hands on her jeaned hips and fire in her eyes.

“Well, well, well, what have we here?” she demanded. “Practicing for early retirement, are we? I’ve got jobs for both of you and you know it. Dad, you said you’d clean out the freezer this week. So far you haven’t gotten close enough to risk frostbite. And as for you, Jonas, you were supposed to help me clean out cupboards this afternoon.”

Jonas didn’t look up from his newspaper. “I forgot.”

Verity was outraged. “The hell you did. Just like you forgot to send out those letters to the museums, the ones I
distinctly remember telling you to write yesterday?”

“I’ll get to them one of these days,” he assured her, turning the page. “I’m in no hurry. I’ve already got a good job. Why should I want to leave it to go do consulting work for some museum?”

“How about for the very good reason that consulting work would be in your field of expertise?” she snapped. “Not to
mention the additional fact that it pays a heck of a lot better.”

“Dishwashing is my field of expertise and I can live on what I’m making now.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

This was not the first time they’d had this argument. In fact, they’d had a lot of arguments since returning from Caitlin Evanger’s house three days ago. Verity knew in her heart that she had been responsible for starting every one of those arguments.

She couldn’t help it. She was pushing Jonas and she knew it. But she had to do it. She had to find out how soon he was going to leave. It was easier to force the issue than to wait in cold dread for him suddenly to announce one day that he was departing. Verity had never been the type to wait for fate to overtake her.