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“She’s way too gorgeous for you,” she says.

“I agree,” he drawls.

I sneak a sideways look at him, and catch him looking at me as if he finds me irresistible. My toes curl inside my shoes.

Autumn laughs. “I predict your days as a bachelor are numbered, Mr. Tsarnov.”

I feel myself flush with embarrassment. Thank god for the red lanterns.

“I’m sorry,” Autumn says apologetically to me. “You must forgive me. I’m not being nosy and irritating, I’m just excited Konstantin has finally turned up with someone real for a change.”

“Thanks for that endorsement,” Konstantin says dryly.

“What? You’re going to pretend you don’t deliberately pick bimbos so you can pretend they are not right for you, and end it before it gets too serious,” she challenges.

“I like bimbos.” Konstantin’s voice is light and easy. “Now can we talk about something else?”

She grins cheekily. “Of course we can, but I’m standing by my prediction. Your bachelor days are numbered, young man.”

A man comes and says something quietly to the Count. He nods and says to his wife, “We must go.”

She nods. “Rocco and I are flying back tonight, but you must come to dinner soon. Bring Raine.”

Konstantin shoots a look at me and I raise an eyebrow at him. Without taking his eyes off me, he says, “Sure, I’ll bring her.”

“Good. Now we must be off.” She smiles at me. “Have a lovely time tonight, Raine, and I look forward to having you to dinner.”

“Thank you for the invitation.”

“It would be a pleasure.”

Autumn moves closer to Konstantin and kisses his cheek, but I see that she takes the opportunity to surreptitiously slip something very small, like a note or an USB stick into the palm of his hand.

Smoothly, he puts his hand into his pocket. “Have a safe flight.”

For a second, I wonder what the thing she passed to him is, but then I catch myself. Clearly, they are all involved in something secret and I don’t need to know. After tonight I will never see any of these people again. My life has nothing to do with this world of jet-setting exclusive people.

“Goodnight,” the mysterious Count calls, as the couple turn away and melt into the crowd.

“Konstantin Tsarnov, is it not?” asks the wonderfully preserved woman standing to the right of us. Her eyes are hard and devoid of any warmth. In fact, there is something so frighteningly cold and calculated about her a shiver runs down my spine.

I feel Konstantin become tense next to me, even as he nods and says gallantly, “At your service, Mrs. Helena Barrington.”

“I believe you know my son,” she murmurs, a smile playing on her lips.

Konstantin’s voice is smooth. “Yes, we’re working on a charity project together.”

Her mouth twists. “Ah yes, the Starlight project. Very noble.”

“Perhaps you would like to be involved?”

Her eyes glitter strangely. “I’d love to, but I’m afraid I’m far too busy.”

“Well, if you change your mind…”

“I believe you are leaving for London tomorrow.”

Again, I feel Konstantin tense next to me. “Yes, how did you know?”

“I might have heard a rumor,” she says airily. “When you meet my son, will you be good enough to send my love to him? Tell him to kiss my grandson for me.”

“Yes, of course.”

“Thank you,” she says and turning, walks away, her head held high.

“What is that all about?” I whisper.

“I have no idea and I don’t want to know. Come on, let’s go get you a drink.”

Raine

Suddenly, I don’t want to be at this party. I don’t want to spend more time with him or know more about him. I already know I will like him. I am already irresistibly attracted to him, and the deeper I fall for him the harder it will be for me to switch the painting. I don’t want to feel guilty for the rest of my life. I just want to save my sister.

“Can we go back to your place?” I whisper.

He stares into my eyes, a strange expression on his face. Then he nods. “Of course.”

“Konstantin, fancy meeting you here,” a woman’s voice cries gaily from behind us.

I turn to the sight of the sexiest woman I’ve ever seen in my life. She has jet black hair and is wearing a shimmering, skin tight dress that shows every perfect curve of her body. I instantly hate her.

“We are just leaving,” Konstantin says coldly.

“What? You just arrived.” She turns her stunning, sly eyes toward me. “This is Konstantin, all over. Such a bore. Always at his computer. Never wanting to party. Tell him you want to stay and party for a little while longer.”

“Actually, I’m ready to leave,” I reply.

All the fake friendliness in her eyes disappear and they glitter with resentment. I knew from the moment I set eyes on her that we would not get on and I’m right.

At that moment, a waiter arrives with a tray of flutes filled with golden bubbles.

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