‘Don’t ever put yourself in harm’s way again,’ I whisper, caressing her cheek with my thumb.
‘I wasn’t ever in danger.’ Her voice is sepulchral.
‘You don’t know what she is capable of.’
She starts suddenly, her body tense. Fuck, I shouldn’t have said that.
‘What is she capable of?’ she asks, hoarse with fear.
‘She won’t hurt Sorab. He is her bargaining chip.’
She sags with relief. She’s falling apart in front of me and there isn’t a thing I can do about it. ‘Why didn’t you tell me you were going?’
‘Because you would have said no.’
‘Damn right I wouldn’t have let you go.’
‘I’m sorry. I screwed up.’
‘Don’t be sorry. You didn’t screw up. Tell me everything she said and did. It could be important.’
So we sit beside each other and she tells me everything calmly and clearly while I listen intently. When she is finished I am so furious I want to kill that mad bitch. I try my best not to show the fury.
She searches my face. ‘You were right. I shouldn’t have gone. Or at least I should have had a plan. I’m afraid all I’ve succeeded in doing is saying all the wrong things and cementing her hatred.’
I totally agree. I wish she hadn’t gone, but I try to sound warm and reassuring. ‘It doesn’t matter. Nothing you have said or done has changed the outcome one bit. She has a plan. Humiliating you was only one small aspect.’
‘Why do you say that?’
‘She wants to see me tomorrow at ten a.m.’
Her eyes become enormous. ‘When did she contact you?’
‘She called right after you left her. So you see it was all planned. First humiliate you and then call me to the negotiating table.’
‘What does she want? You?’
I curl my arm around her possessively. ‘No. Not me. That would be too easy. She knows I don’t give a damn about her. She wants revenge. I just don’t know what that entails. Yet.’
Twenty
Blake Law Barrington
I walk into the red brick building and suddenly I am in a different world. I pause for a moment at the entrance. The air is cool and filled with an air of slow dreaminess, as if this place is a retreat from the dangerously busy world outside. The air of lethargy pervades the staff. They talk to me slowly and clearly—all their movements are calm and deliberate.
One of the reception staff shows me into a private room. There is a window with floral curtains, and a few low, blue-gray padded seats. A plastic coffee table with a few outdated, well-thumbed magazines.
‘Someone will bring her down shortly,’ she says quietly, and closes the door quietly. I walk to the window and look out. My mind is reeling. I realize I am nervous. So much is at stake. I think of how fragile Lana looked this morning when I touched her cheekbone. ‘Don’t think about me,’ she whispered fiercely. ‘Only him.’
‘Hello, Blake.’
I whirl around. I was so lost in my own thoughts I did not hear her enter. For a moment I am surprised. My last memory of her is of her being held by Brian and another man while she clawed and screamed bloody murder. Now she stands before me, calm and present in a way I had not imagined. I had expected wild-eyed passion, a burning desire for revenge. Not this angel of mercy act.
‘Hello, Victoria.’
She comes farther into the room and takes a seat. She is wearing a dress, blue with polka dots. It doesn’t suit her. The dress rides up her thighs and she pulls it down demurely. She does not cross her legs, but sits with her knees close together. I’ll admit she has me confused.
She looks up at me. There is amusement in her eyes. My God, she has taken the upper hand. I am filled with the ugly sensation that I am about to get my first lesson on how wrong I have been about Victoria. I walk to the seat next to hers. She watches me carefully. I spread myself out, lean back, rest my hands on my thighs, and fix her with an even look. I don’t know if she buys my relaxed pose. I am not relaxed. I am so furious I want to punch her smiling face.
‘How is my son?’
‘Living in the lap of luxury.’
‘If you hurt a single hair on his head you’ll live to regret it.’
She crosses her legs high on her thigh, so smoothly and foxily, it takes me off guard—I don’t let my eyes follow the movement, it simply registers in my vision—and smiles at me.
‘I wouldn’t take such an aggressive tone if I were you.’
‘Why did you kidnap him?’
‘Why did you have me locked up here?’
‘Because you crashed my wedding and tried to slash my bride?’
‘You’ve oversold the story.’
‘Correct me then.’
‘I avenged a wrong that was done to me. She stole my man and my money,’ she states simply.
I feel myself flush. Shit. When I found out I should have returned her money. Such a paltry sum. ‘She did not steal me away from you—’
‘Liar, liar, pants on fire.’
I stare at her. ‘Ours was an arrangement.’
‘You cheated me.’
‘I did not know how you felt.’
‘And if you had?’
I shift uncomfortably.
‘It would not have mattered, would it? Just like it would not have mattered to you what I felt if you had fallen desperately in love with someone else.’
‘I was desperately in love. With you.’
‘Look, Victoria. That is the past. I want my son back.’
‘And I want you back.’
I cannot stop the horror her words provoke from showing in my face.
She laughs, a cat with a mouse. ‘That’s not very nice.’
‘What do you really want, Victoria?’
‘I want out of here and I want you stripped of your Barrington seat of power.’
I frown. ‘Stripped of the seat of power? Why?’
‘Because you’re not a Barrington.’
My blood runs cold and sluggish in my veins. I think of a snake. Winding. Untrustworthy. Feed it for a lifetime, then turn your back on it and it will bite you. ‘What are you talking about?’
‘Ask your mother. She’ll tell you.’
‘How do you know?’
‘I have my ways. I knew many years ago, but I didn’t care. I wanted you even if you were not a Barrington.’
I couldn’t give a shit about what she thought of my lineage. I had only one objective in mind. ‘If I agree to both your conditions will you return my son?’