The Golden Locket (Unbreakable Trilogy, Book 2) by Primula Bond Read Free Book Online

through the delicate lace of her electric-blue dress. ‘I could have organised a personal signing from you, Miss Folkes, dressed as a flagellating holy sister.’
    ‘Everyone dresses up when there’s a party in La Serenissima. That’s what they call Venice when there’s some kind of fiesta going on. It’s the city of masks and costumes, after all.’
    I shift in the blast of heat from Pierre’s black eyes. So like his brother’s, yet so different. While Gustav’s eyes glow from deep within, Pierre’s seem to flicker and change depending on what or who he’s looking at. There’s still a kind of vibration about him this evening, the impression that something is brewing, yet he’s almost jaunty, too. I feebly try to move the spotlight and focus on him as Polly’s boyfriend rather than Gustav’s brother.
    ‘You know, Pierre, as a costumier Venice would be a goldmine for your dress-supply business. You’d find a wealth of period outfits there!’
    ‘I’m flattered you remember what I do for a living!’
    ‘At least the two of
you
are communicating. God, it’s been like pushing a boulder up a hill getting everyone here tonight. But you’re being very restless and strange, Rena,’ Polly complains, taking Pierre’s chin and wrenching it round to get his eyes off me.
    ‘That’s because it doesn’t feel right – talking to you, I mean. It’s good that we’re all jolly, drinking and chatting together, especially after the last time we met in London. But it would be better if Gustav was here. I feel as if we should be waiting for him!’
    ‘It was his invitation, and we’re not saying anything behind his back while we wait.’ Pierre runs his finger across Polly’s mouth. ‘In any case you’re allowed to have your special cousin to play for New Year’s, aren’t you? It’s a great chance to get to know you better. But I’m disappointed Gustav can’t be arsed to get here on time. You sure he’s in Switzerland? He’s not got cold feet about seeing me and done one of his midnight flits?’
    His brittle words are like a slap in the face. I press myself back into the soft cushions as if they can somehow protect me. I can’t bear the idea of Gustav running out on me.
    ‘Give him time. I trust him.’ The sudden fear nearly chokes me. ‘Midnight flits aren’t his style.’
    ‘It’s a shame when his emails over the last few days have built some bridges. They’re a bit po-faced but conciliatory and, well, brotherly. I was warming to tonight’s plan.’ Pierre keeps his eyes on Polly, tweaks her nipple more blatantly. His eyes, even his actions, are oddly distant. As if he’s tuning a radio. ‘But hey, we can have a party here all by ourselves. Maybe we could get Tomas over, remember him? The guy in the toga whom you knocked back at my Halloween party? He hasn’t forgotten you – he’s still got the hots for you!’
    Polly giggles. ‘Yeah, how about it? Let’s get Toga Tomas over!’
    To my relief Pierre stops groping Polly and leans towards me. ‘So tell me, Polly’s cousin. How did my brother ensnare a Celtic beauty like you? Or has he got you locked into some confidentiality clause?’
    I try to smother my shocked laughter by delving into the ice bucket. ‘Yeah, it was business at first, but it’s all pleasure now.’
    ‘I knew it. You
did
have some kind of contract! God, he really has lost his
joie de vivre
. The eccentric millionaire, signing parchments in blood.’ As he speaks I can see Polly’s nipple perking through the lace and wish I couldn’t. ‘But, talking of business, why don’t you tell me more about your beloved Venice? Your knowledge of the city could be invaluable if I decide to follow up your suggestion for sourcing period material.’
    ‘Then you should go there some time, honey.’ Polly nudges him. ‘My cousin, as you insist on calling her, could show you round.’
    Polly hitches her bottom across the soft seat. She hooks her leg over Pierre’s to get his