Net of Lies (5 page)

H
is superbly cut suit and crisp, snow-white shirt with a ruby tie screamed money and good taste to the whole world, and she felt her heart tightening at the recollection of his simple shirts and jeans he used to wear. His masculine beauty had been impossible to find in anyone else ever since. That night, he was even better looking than he had been before. She’d been hoping to find him less attractive and nicked by the flow of time. But he wasn’t. If anything, he was more gorgeous in his classy attire. The air of command that had surrounded him before hadn’t diminished with time, either. He dominated the conversation without even trying, his rather sparse responses and infrequent comments at odds with Marc’s nervous prattling. He was the one with the money, and as such, he didn’t have to try as desperately as Marc did. He knew it, as did everyone in the room it seemed, judging by the looks from the other guests. She noticed the interested glances from the other women and wanted to warn them that he was nothing like they were imagining. Under the veneer of sophistication and perfect manners hid a liar, an opportunist, and a cheater who would break their hearts.

But they wouldn’t believe her
. She hadn’t wanted to believe it at first, either. The absurdity of the truth presented to her still sent shivers down her spine.

‘
Kate, darling, I’m sure you can sneak away a bit earlier from here, don’t you think?’ Marc’s eager voice brought her back to reality, her eyes focusing on her boyfriend with a fatalistic resignation. She would have to go through with his idea, though every cell of her body screamed in resistance to the thought of being alone with Raoul Santos. She would just have to stay calm and rational, treating him like any another client.

She turned her radiant smile on Marc.
‘Of course, especially since it was Joseph who worked on the main presentation of the art for the auction.’ She nodded, registering from the corner of her eye Raoul’s thunderous expression. For some reason, seeing her being so cordial with her boss seemed to bother him.
Too bad for him
. She batted her long lashes at Marc again. ‘Are you sure you don’t want to come with us, Marc? I think you would make a much better guide than I could ever be. And I’m sure that Mr. Santos here would only settle for the best.’

‘
I’m sure that you’re exactly what I want, Kate.’ Dark eyes glared at her with hostility that was at odds with his charming statement. ‘Once I have decided on the pieces I want, we’ll get Marc involved. Unless you handle that part of the sale, as well?’

He
’s very smart.
She fumed, watching Marc swallow the hook without as much as blinking. The promise of a good sale was enough to keep him blissfully unaware of anything beyond the fact that he was on the verge of injecting cash into his gallery. Raoul had figured it out, she realized, the thought of how cold-blooded, brilliant, and manipulative he really was freezing her blood.

But maybe
I’m imagining it all?
Maybe he was truly interested in the gallery’s art, and her private demons were preventing her from seeing his presence for what it really was. After all, it wasn’t that unusual for former lovers to run into each other at some point. She knew she was grasping at straws, but it was necessary if she was going to spend the evening in the company of the man she’d hoped never to see again for as long as she lived.

‘No, I don’t handle that. I was just worried
that I might not be able to provide you with all the information you might require. I’m relatively new to the company, and there’s plenty I don’t know. Someone more experienced would definitely suit you better, that’s all,’ she retorted as sweetly as possible.

H
is tightly pressed mouth betrayed his annoyance with her cool attitude. Yet her victory was short lived, because he smiled wolfishly, his white teeth flashing in the face she could have sworn was even more tanned now than it was in her memories.

‘
Something tells me you’re a quick learner, Kate.’ Both of them knew he wasn’t really talking about the gallery any longer.

M
arc smiled blissfully, like a solicitous pimp selling his worker to a client.

S
he understood exactly what Raoul meant as he added silkily, his long fingers playing innocently with the silver butter knife, ‘I enjoy ignorance, you know? It is so much better to find someone fresh than to settle for someone who has seen it all and is blasé about it, don’t you think?’

‘I can assure you that
Kate isn’t completely ignorant, Raoul,’ Marc interrupted, obviously eager to set straight his girlfriend’s image.

I’d bet my
bottom dollar he’s worried that my free admission of ignorance might hurt the sales.
Resentment tightened her lips as she fought for control.
Marc couldn’t really know what Raoul was implying, now could he?

‘She has been working with me for the last t
hree months and has gained a deep and intimate knowledge about the comings and goings of our gallery,’ Marc continued, a wintry smile from Raoul spurring him on to praise Kate, who felt as she imagined slaves must have when being offered on the market.

‘
I’m free right now.’ As usual, Raoul didn’t waste any time. Like a warrior, he came, conquered, and dealt with the spoils of his battle in any way he pleased. His lack of compassion and basic human empathy filled her with dread.

It’s going to b
e a long evening,
she thought as she listened to Marc’s accommodating answer, her body tightly coiled like a spring ready to burst forward.

T
hey decided that she and Raoul would slip out of the charity ball, leaving Marc behind to oversee the auction and represent his business. Kate still couldn’t quite believe how easy it had been for Marc to delegate to her the task of accompanying his newest potential client. Even not knowing a thing about their shared past, he should have been at least mildly concerned about sending her off with a man he himself had described as a womanizer just an hour or so before. He needed nothing more than the promise of a sale and a reminder of the limited time Raoul was prepared to offer for his visit to smooth out any wrinkles in this unexpected change of plans. Marc had planned to reserve actual sales for the near future, but Raoul had enough money to change the rules whenever he pleased. If he decided to speed up the tempo of his negotiations, Marc could object to very little if he didn’t want to jeopardize his potential profits. She could tell he did not want to lose Raoul’s interest, making her wonder about the expanse of wealth her former lover must possess. She would find out more later, she promised herself, and then instantly instructed herself not to. Any additional information about Raoul would tear open the wound that had finally started closing. She vowed silently to get through with this nightmarish evening and emerge unscathed from the ordeal.

The
two men rose from their chairs and watched her expectantly. Her eyes went to their handshake, noticing with an odd detachment that Raoul seemed to keep their contact to a bare minimum, visibly eager to put some space between himself and Kate’s boyfriend.

Getting up, she smiled at Marc, desperately hoping he might change his mind
at the very last moment and decide to accompany them. If the saying that people who cared for each other should be able to convey telepathic thoughts held any truth, that was the moment for it. Marc should have been able to hear her thoughts screaming at him to come along, but he didn’t. His calm face was oblivious of the agitation she struggled to hide.

She felt rather than saw Raoul’s hand coming closer, the heat of his fingers seeping into her skin even before he touched her arm,
before she felt his grip like a shackle falling into place once again. It was a very light, non-committal touch, barely there as he guided her to the exit, yet she could have wept with desperation as she realized that her worst nightmare was about to come true.

She was alone with Raoul Santos
. The distance of two years’ separation had been wiped away with a single touch of his fingers against her skin. Feeling like a lamb led to its slaughter, she allowed him to weave his way to the door. Their stop at the cloakroom, where they retrieved her wrap, was nothing short of a reprieve before the beginning of the torture that was about to commence. Once they left the thick, opulent walls of the hotel where the charity event was taking place, they would be completely alone for the first time since the day she had found out he was about to marry someone else.

The gallery was empty at
such a late hour. Raoul had known it would be. The certainty of total privacy was a cornerstone of the foundation of his plans for the evening. He wanted to say a few things to Kate, and he didn’t need an audience. He could tell she knew he wanted her alone, as well. He hailed a cab as they stepped out into the balmy night air of the late June night.

S
he sat stiffly in the darkness of the cab, silent and tense. His lips twitched in the beginning of a cynical smile as he noticed how desperate she was to put space between them, pressing her slim body into the farthest corner of the dark interior of the car.

They didn’t talk, not yet. He could afford
a moment of silence, the sense of calm and fulfillment that had come over him ever since he’d laid eyes on her in the brilliant light of the dining hall making him patient. He didn’t need to rush, not when he had her at his side. Her quiet breathing was barely noticeable as she stared out the window, her averted face allowing him to catch a glimpse of the graceful lines of her neck and shoulders. Raoul didn’t dare to investigate this surprising sense of peace that suffused him, rebelling against the thought that it was her silent, yet palpable presence. The driving force that urged him to move forward suddenly subsided, his body relaxing in the sense of having arrived at his final destination. She was here, with him, close enough for him to touch her.

He didn’t touch her
, though; he wanted to keep a clear head. He remembered the way her body had felt and the atavistic response of his flesh each time they were together. Like a temptress, she would lure him in, pulling him deeper into a downward spiral of lust and desire.

You can’t
afford it now,
he thought silently, his hands balling into fists in an attempt to fight the temptation. He decided his physical needs would have to wait, ignoring the sudden surge of heat in his loins as he imagined all kinds of things he wanted to do to her.

The car rolled through the night,
only the sound of the engine breaking the tense silence. It hit a pothole, and the sudden jerk swayed them closer. Their hands brushed against each other as they fought to regain their balance. He saw her jump back, as if burnt by the touch of his palm.

Good,
he thought grimly, assessing her tense features with satisfaction. He was affecting her more than she was allowing her expression to reveal. Her serene face was a lie that was exposed the moment he brushed her with the mere whisper of a touch.

He was still amazed
how easily he had forced through his request to have her show him around, especially at this ungodly hour. It seemed too good to be true. Marc Stevenson apparently belonged to the category of people who abandoned their beliefs and inhibitions the moment the clinking sound of money reached their ears. Not that Raoul minded, because he realized how much more difficult his plans would have been if Marc had turned out to be a man of principles. But then again, he wouldn’t have had a reason to start his operation in the first place if Marc weren’t a cheat and liar. The bonus of seeing Kate was a gift of fate, and he liked it this way much better.

The
car slowed as they neared their destination. Raoul paid the driver, his generous tip earning him a wide smile and enthusiastic response. Then he got out of the car and held open the door as Kate emerged, her movements reminding him of a cautious animal. The air was warm and perfectly still, unusually hot for Britain, the heat wave that traveled through Europe catching up with the Emerald Island. He looked up to the sky, sprinkled with myriads of tiny silver stars, the pale face of the moon coming and going as the clouds traveled slowly across the firmament.

It was a perfect night to take a stroll,
and even better to lie naked as the open window allowed the silvery light of the moon to travel over the skin of his lover, gilding it in its cool shine. He reminded himself that the thought was no more than a fantasy, romantic and beautiful, but still nothing but a dream of the man he used to be. He had learned to take things at their value, leaving romance and the desire for perfection to the fools who had yet to learn the truth about love and affection. He would settle for sex. The sheer physicality of finding pleasure in a woman’s body was real and measurable. Making love was tangible.

‘We employ a night guard
.’ Kate said as they walked up to the huge illuminated glass entry to the Stevenson’s Gallery. She was very pale in the silvery moonlight, and he felt a pang of shameful regret for pushing her so far. But he couldn’t stop. He focused on the silhouette of a burly uniformed man approaching the thick glass door. He wondered if the man was a sign of Marc’s obsessive worry about being found out or just plain concern about being robbed. His safety measures were more suited for a museum than a small reputable gallery. Maybe his dealings had allowed him to accumulate pieces that were pricey enough to justify the state-of-the-art alarm system and cameras that watched them as they walked in.