An Unforgettable Lady(21)

"About Suzanna van der Lyden?" He nodded.

She wrapped her arms around herself. As she moved, diamonds shimmered.

“I can't believe it." The countess turned back to the view, as if she didn't want him to see her struggle for self-control. "God, how her family must feel. She has a young son. Had."

Her eyes flashed over her shoulder. She measured him for a long time, as if trying to delve into the space behind his eyes, into who he was as a man.

"Can I trust you?" she asked with quiet urgency.

"With your life, Countess."

There was a pause. She turned back around to him. "My husband and I have separated. We're getting a divorce."

She watched him closely, obviously wondering whether his word was his bond or a fiction. She was no doubt worried he might go to the papers and he didn't blame her. The separation of the Count and Countess von Sharone was going to be big news.

After a moment, she continued. "I am not prepared to announce it, not until the divorce is worked out. That's why I didn't tell the police I was being followed."

"You think your husband's stalking you?"

"He might be paying someone to keep an eye on me."

"Is he still in love with you?"

She shrugged. "I doubt it. But that doesn't mean he wouldn't try and find something to use against me."

"And you?"

"Still in love? No. I married him because I was supposed to." She let out a harsh laugh. "My father liked him. My mother liked his family. I thought there were worse things in life than marrying a handsome man from a royal family."

She looked back out of the windows. "I was wrong, of course. You should never marry for anything less than love."

Smith frowned.

"No offense, Countess, but do you honestly think you can keep news like this a secret? After that wedding you had?" He remembered reading about it on a plane as he flew to God only knew where. Hundreds of the world's uber-wealthy had attended the festivities in Europe. Her dress alone had cost over $100,000 if the papers had gotten the figure right.

"There are issues here at the Foundation and I need to be perceived as strong and in charge. If news of my marriage breaking up gets out now, people are going to assume I'm on the verge of an emotional breakdown."

"Are you?"

"Do I look like a nervous wreck to you?" Her voice was steady as she met his eyes in the wall of glass.



He shook his head. In that red dress, she looked enticing as hell, that's what she looked like.

The harsh laugh came again. "Good. I've learned in the last month to relish that particular illusion."

"Why don't we sit down," he said, abruptly. "You look like you're about to fall over."

Those graceful shoulders moved back and he waited for her to fight him. She would no sooner admit she was tired than she'd let out the fear she was holding in so tightly.

But instead of arguing, she settled behind a large desk and he took a seat across from her. He waited for her to speak again, waited for her to formally ask the question he was prepared to answer.



* * *



Grace was determined not to break down in front of Smith but she felt as if she might shatter and fall to pieces at any moment.

She'd spent the preceding hours thinking about how to best take care of herself and the only answer she came up with involved him. When she'd left the Met, but couldn't bring herself to go home because she was scared to be alone, she'd dialed his cell phone number.

He was the one she wanted, the only one. He was a tough ass, hardheaded son of a bitch capable of making a killer turn and flee. He would keep her safe. With him protecting her, maybe she could get through a day without having an anxiety attack. Maybe she'd be able to concentrate on her job again. Maybe she could have part of her life back.

Her eyes flickered over to him. He'd chosen a chair just beyond the pool of light cast by the desk lamp. He looked dangerous in the shadows, so still and watchful. She couldn't see his eyes but knew they were on her. Even in the midst of her fear, she felt a surge of warmth and had to remind herself they had business to discuss.

Grace cleared her throat. "I'd like to hire you."

She held her breath, waiting for his answer.

He shifted in the chair, his leather jacket creaking softly.

"How far are you willing to go?"