Seduction: A Novel of Suspense by Rose M J Read Free Book Online Page B

everything back inside, I found the letter.”
    The corner of his mouth lifted in an ironic smile. “There are no accidents, just as there are no coincidences.”
    “Which gives you one less excuse. So if you didn’t open it by accident, why did you open it?”
    “In order to protect you.”
    “Oh, Malachai. We’re not in a nineteenth-century gothic novel. That sounds ridiculous. You read what Theo wrote,” Jac said. “He thinks there’s proof in Jersey validating a specific Celtic myth. Why would I need to be protected from doing my job?”
    “You can explore Celtic myths without visiting Jersey,” Malachai answered without addressing her question.
    “Why does where I do my job matter to you? Jersey is renowned for having hundreds of important Neolithic and Celtic ruins. If he’s really on the trail of something proving Druid—”
    “Isn’t what I showed you today important enough?” Malachai interrupted.
    “Malachai, you’re obfuscating. What’s wrong with my going to Jersey? Is that why you brought me here? To offer me your ruins in exchange for the ones you were hiding from me?”
    “Not at all. I just think—” He broke off, then began again. “Can’t you accept that I have reasons to believe the best course of action would be for you to ignore his offer?”
    “No.”
    “Don’t you trust me?”
    “Malachai, you opened a letter that wasn’t addressed to you and then held on to it without telling me about it. That’s a fairly serious invasion of privacy. I’m not sure I should trust you.”
    The cramps, which had been dormant for the last half hour, kicked up. Jac took a long sip of the now lukewarm brandy-laced tea.
    Malachai stood, walked over to the fireplace and set to making a fire. Even though it was mid-August, it was a chilly night and she knew the fire would be welcome, but she also knew he was buying time. Thinking through his best possible course of action. As she watched him, this man who knew the inside of her soul, she thought about how little she really knew about him. It had always been a fairly one-sided relationship.
    “Malachai, what’s going on?”
    He lit a match. The scent of sulfur stung Jac’s nose. With a practiced flick of his wrist, Malachai threw the light into the nest of kindling. A first spark caught. Sputtered. Then the sticks burst into flames. Now Jac could smell the bright fresh edge of sandalwood and cedar . . . She smelled sweet smoke and then the odor of bitter tar.
    “Why won’t you answer me?” she asked.
    Slowly he turned away from the fire and back toward her. The firelight was behind him, his features cast in shade. His shadow loomed large on the ceiling. He was about to say something. Then he changed his mind and instead walked over to the bookshelves, where he plucked something nestled between two books.
    “Malachai, what is going on? There has never been any actual proof that Druids existed,” Jac said. “If Theo has access to that proof, I want to see it. Why are you being so cryptic?”
    He caressed the thing in his hand for a moment and then brought it over to the desk and placed it in front of Jac. The perfectly carved amber-bejeweled owl was no more than three inches tall. In the low light from the Tiffany lamp, the bird’s diamond eyes glinted almost magically.
    Fabergé . Malachai’s voice massaged the single word, giving it weight and importance. “It’s very rare and extremely valuable.” He picked it up and handed it to her.
    She was aware of his watching as she inspected it. He’d been one of the most important people in her life. But what was she to him? Another curio in his collection? Objets d’art and patients—by now he had amassed a great number of both.
    When she was young, Malachai had been the first therapist out of half a dozen who’d actually helped her. She’d arrived at Blixer Rath suffering borderline personality symptoms exacerbated by the recent death of her mother. The suicide had devastated both