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And that was from an aborted attempt on a wallet. What the hell was the penalty for stealing an expensive diamond from the very family who mined them? Maybe they’d cut off my hand if the rumours were true that they favoured medieval punishments for crimes?
I didn’t know why but the thought made me laugh nervously, anxiety threading through me. I went to shake my head, to tell him there was no way in hell I would do what he asked. But Jethro cleared his throat, ending our staring war. “If you will, Mr. Prest.”
Elder released me, a sly smile on his lips. “Do what I ask, Pim, and the item Mr. Hawk just gave me is yours.” He tapped his tux pocket. “You do want to know what’s inside that pretty box, don’t you?”
Damn him.
Before I could argue and reach into his pocket myself, he and Jethro turned on their heel and left.
The moment the men disappeared around the corner, Mrs Hawk sighed sweetly. “I have to make sure my children aren’t up to something they shouldn’t be. Will you be okay? Feel free to explore wherever the doors are open.”
I nodded, swallowing hard at the thought of being left alone in a giant place with so many nooks and crannies for crime and pockets of darkness for horror. “Thank you, Mrs Hawk.”
She patted my hand on her way past. “Please, call me Nila.” Smiling with a touch of conspiring charm, she added, “By the way, you look exactly as I hoped someone as pretty as you would in that gown.”
“Excuse me?” I smoothed the blue and red bruised bodice self-consciously.
Nila sighed wistfully. “I designed that only a few months into my stay at Hawksridge. I stole it actually from an ancestor who sketched in the same journal given to me at the time.” Her gaze cleared. “I hope you like it. I find bruises rather beautiful…the range of colours fascinates me even though the pigmentation is the body’s way of healing from pain. Maybe that’s why I love them.”
I didn’t know what to say. The women who’d dressed me at the hotel mentioned the creator of this dress would be here tonight. I’d planned on complimenting her on her attention to detail and foresight of fashion, but Nila shook her head and switched subjects as quickly as she’d started this one. “Whatever task your man just set for you? It’s worth doing. I love designing clothes and get a thrill seeing women wear my creations, but it’s nothing compared to the intensity of seeing a Hawk diamond find its forever home.”
She lowered her voice as if the portraits of long dead relatives eavesdropped on us. “I’ve seen what your man requested Jethro to create. You’ll want to see it for yourself, so do whatever he asks. It’s worth it…trust me.”
With that cryptic encouragement to rob her, she glided back into the ballroom and left me.
Alone.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
______________________________
Elder
THE MEETING WITH Jethro Hawk didn’t last long.
In an odd way, it seemed as though he was listening more to what I wasn’t saying than to what I was. As I listed statistics and figures of my yachts, the accolades we’d won, and designs we’d accomplished, he stood tapping his finger against his lips, making me feel like a goddamn zoo exhibit.
By the time he nodded and admitted he was interested in a smaller size yacht for recreational fun rather than ocean travel, I was drained from doing my best to keep my mind on work and not on Pimlico.
Every time I thought about her, the agony of how I’d treated her rose all over again, swiftly followed by the love she’d crippled me with.
I’d apologised yet it wasn’t enough.
I hadn’t earned a response.
I hadn’t given her time to give me one.
But I’d underestimated my need to have her accept my apology and absolve me of my sins.
Fuck, I should never have left her.
She’d zoned out in the corridor, but it was different from her other panic attacks. I was used to displays of physical terror—of holding her as she sucked in useless air and seeking out the monstrous beings who threatened her.
This time the enemy she fought was one I didn’t understand. She hurt because of something unknown. Something I couldn’t see or hear or touch.
I need to know what it is.
I needed to tell her to stop lying to me.
More time passed as I listed the smaller vessels available instead of the five-hundred-million price tagged thirty-room extravaganzas, and Jethro chose a few blueprint examples from the photos on my phone for a mock-up.
He excused himself once we’d arranged to discuss his requirements via email.
The moment he slipped from the meeting under the guise of finding his wife and children, I tapped the box burning a hole over my heart and stalked to the door myself.
