Standing in the Shadows (McClouds & Friends #2)(116)

Tamara's face fell. "I see. I was hoping you might indulge him. Mr. Mueller's health has been very fragile lately, and he's been reclusive and quite lonely. He's allowing himself to be fanciful, and that's rare for him. It gave him such a lift, to plan this surprise for you. He sees it as a gift, you see. To honor you. A way of thanking you for all your hard work."

Erin held the velvet box out to Tamara, almost desperately. "But I… it's so inappropriate. I don't even know—"

"Mr. Mueller just wants to share his delight in the torque with someone who appreciates it as much as he does," Tamara coaxed. "He's fascinated with you. He has been for months. And you should learn to make the most of your looks anyway. I can help you with that. You have such incredible potential. That hair, that skin, those eyes."

"Thanks, but I don't need a fashion consultant," Erin said tightly.

"No, you don't," Tamara agreed. "You look perfectly fine. You're a very pretty girl. But if you wanted, you could cause car accidents when you walked down the sidewalk."

Erin recoiled. "Good Lord! Why on earth would I want to do that?"

Tamara laughed at her. "Power, Erin. It's useful. Believe me."

Erin shook her head. "I don't need that kind of power," she said quietly. "I don't want it. It's not my style."

"We all need it." Tamara's voice was hard. "What a shame. McCloud has you under his thumb. Now you don't even have the nerve to try on a five-thousand-dollar evening gown, just for fun. Some lessons in female power might do you good."

Erin bristled. "Don't you dare try to manipulate me."

Tamara tilted her head to the side and contemplated her next tactic. "I just want to play," she wheedled. "Try on the gowns, Erin. They're beautiful, and so are you. Let me show you how exciting it is to be truly glamorous. It's a kind of magic. And it's fun. Just look at this beautiful thing. I don't even want to tell you how much money he spent for it. And it's perfect for your looks. As if it were made just for you."

Erin stared down at the inherent tension and violence in the torque's stunning design. The two dragons were locked in a state of mortal challenge. Their garnet eyes glowed red with rage. The design tricked the eye into the illusion that the twisting serpentine tails were flipping and writhing. The thing practically hummed in her hands.

She'd always privately considered this style of jewelry to be the most beautiful and evocative that existed. Sensual and savage, the designs echoed with the blood and dust and noise of ancient history. She loved Celtic artifacts exactly because they were a tangible point of contact with that mysterious culture. They made her dream, set her imagination on fire. They called to her across the ages.

A high-ranking Celtic noblewoman had worn this torque around her neck well over two thousand years ago. She had lived her everyday life in it, waking and eating and breathing and loving. If Erin put on that torque, history would fold over on itself. She could reach back in time and almost touch that woman. The torque had made her real.

It was utterly seductive. She was so tempted, her hands shook.

"Mr. Mueller did this to please and flatter you, Erin," Tamara said softly. "Humor him. And indulge yourself. McCloud will never know, because it's all… between… us."

Erin broke eye contact. She was on the brink of tears again, for God's sake. What a wreck. Tamara was right. The very thought of Connor's anger made her weepy and unsure of herself.

This indulgence would be her own secret. And maybe it would serve as a liberation. She was her own woman, who made her own choices. Her passion for ancient history was all hers. It had nothing to do with Connor. He would never understand it.

But Claude Mueller might. "All right," she said.

She was instantly sorry. She knew the moment the words left her mouth that she had made a big mistake, but it was too late. Tamara was thrilled, smiling, leading her by the hand into another bedroom, the bed of which was covered with boxes and bags. "I'll show you the lingerie and the shoes, first," Tamara said.

"Lingerie?" she echoed faintly.

"Of course." Tamara rolled her eyes. "You can't show panty lines under these gowns. And I ordered stockings to match, of course."

A half hour later, Tamara closed the cold weight of the golden dragon torque around Erin's neck and turned her around to face the mirror. "Look at yourself. If Connor McCloud could see you now, he would kneel and beg for mercy."

Guilt and pain stabbed through her. "Please, don't."

"Trouble in paradise?" Tamara asked. She laughed and held up her hand at the look in Erin's eyes. "Sorry. Forgive me for asking. Curiosity is one of my little vices. Don't hate me for it. I don't mean any harm."

"You don't know me well enough to speak to me like that."

"No, but I would like to." Tamara flashed her a quirky, disarming smile. "I find you very interesting, Erin Riggs. Now take a look at yourself. Are you a knockout, or are you a knockout?"

Erin turned to the mirror, and stopped breathing for a moment.

It wasn't that she looked all that different. She was still herself, but a glowing golden haze hovered around her. Her eyes seemed bigger, more deeply colored, more shadowy. Her lips were fuller and redder, her skin glowed with earthy golden tints. Even her hair seemed glossier.