CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Miramar, Mallorca
December 9
Gemini had returned. Cam sighed as he slicked back his hair. He straightened the collar of the charcoal-gray dress shirt, adjusted the cream jacket of the suit, and assessed himself in the full-length mirror. He looked tired. His little late-night excursions were taking their toll, but it was a price he happily paid. He couldn’t explain why, but his treasure hunt with Evan made him feel more alive and purpose-driven than he had in years. To what purpose, he had no idea, but every time they met in those mysterious dark caves, he had the unshakable feeling everything was leading up to something.
Laughter from the front of the villa pulled Cam from his room. He followed the voices. The grand living room was aglow with candlelight. French doors opened onto the cloistered walkways that ringed the home. To balance the cool breeze, a fire crackled in the elaborate mosaic hearth.
He stopped in the arched entrance at the top of the two wide marble steps that descended into the room. Gemini turned from the group and took the spotlight, as was her nature, standing before him in the center of the room. She was wearing a Mediterranean blue sheath that perfectly matched her eyes; her pleasure at his choice of attire evident.
“Miguel,” she purred. “Come join our little party.”
Gemini March seemed to emit a glow that obscured everything and everyone else. Nevertheless, as Cam took the first step into the room, his eyes found her. Standing behind Gemini and speaking with Joseph and two other young people was Evan. His Evan. She was wearing cropped black trousers, loafers, and a lightweight black turtleneck. Her cinnamon hair—the same shade as her eyes—was pulled into a low ponytail. Her makeup was minimal, just pale-pink lip gloss and mascara. She was unobtrusive and demure, and she had his full attention. So much so that Gemini March glanced over her shoulder to see who had dared to usurp her stage.
Cam quickly corrected his error. Making a beeline for Gemini, he kissed first one cheek, then the other, and whispered, “The only place I can imagine that dress looking better is on my floor.” Irritation forgotten, she placed a hand on his chest. “Come meet our guests.”
Gemini pulled him to the fireplace, where Atlas was speaking with a distinguished man in his mid-fifties. Dressed to impress, or more likely, fundraise, the man wore a natty suit with a perfectly tied pale-blue bowtie at his neck. A pair of round-rimmed glasses with tortoise-shell frames sat perched on his aquiline nose. The man spared Cam a glance, his eyes briefly widening upon inspection of the new arrival. He quickly schooled his expression and returned his attention to their host.
Atlas was, as always, impeccably dressed in gray trousers and a double-breasted navy blazer. He extended his hand to Cam with a welcoming greeting.
“Miguel! Glad you’re joining us. Omar, this is Miguel Ramirez, Gemini's…” He paused for a moment, stymied by word choice. “… date. And you know Gemini.” The man, Omar, extended his hand. “Pleasure.”
Cam reciprocated. “Likewise.”
“Dr. Omar Emberton is heading up the archaeological expedition in Valldemossa. They’ve made some fascinating discoveries.”
Emberton gave a respectful nod. “Thanks in large part to our benefactor.”
Atlas waved him off. “Thank Joseph. He's the history buff. More importantly, he decides how March Mining allots its charitable donations.”
Joseph, Evan, and the other two guests Cam assumed were also graduate students joined the circle. Joseph chimed in. “Our small island holds untold riches. Thousands of years before the birth of Christ, people were inhabiting Mallorca.”
Atlas held out his arms. “Wouldn’t you choose to live here?”
Evan smiled at the quip.
“And this young lady,” Atlas continued, “Is Omar's most trusted Gal Friday.”
Cam correctly guessed Atlas had used the moniker because he had forgotten her name. Evan extended a hand to him, looking so conspicuously nonchalant, it made him want to laugh.
“Evan.” She spoke without inflection.
“Miguel.” Cam nodded. He placed a hand on the small of Gemini March's back in a gesture of possession. Gemini was no fool. If there was the slightest tension between Evan and him, Gemini would notice. As if sensing the heat between him and her rival, Gemini moved into the nook under his extended arm. Cam jarred himself from mapping the swath of freckles across Evan's nose he hadn’t seen in the dim light of the cave and returned his attention to the woman at his side.
A servant appeared and announced dinner.
Cam walked into the dining room with Joseph at his side. When he reached the end of the table, he paused under the portrait of Ulysses March that hung above the fireplace.
Joseph spoke reverently. “I miss the old bastard.”
“He died last year?” Cam asked.
Joseph rested a hand on the mantle. “Plane crash. It was a painful blow, especially for Gemini. She adored her father. He was a brilliant businessman. A strategist. He wanted to take Gemini under his wing, but she never seemed to show any interest. It seemed the more he pressed, the more flighty and unmotivated she became. Then she discovered modeling, and the glamour and attention snared her. Ulysses always used to say, ‘Gemini is the star of the show.’”
“It is the truth,” Cam agreed.
“She doesn’t like to be ignored, Miguel. You’d be wise to remember that.” Joseph patted him on the shoulder as he moved to the table.