Beautiful Beast (Gypsy Heroes #3)(82)

‘Wow!’ she exclaims dramatically.

‘It’s very expensive, though,’ I worry aloud.

‘It is one-third of the price when it was new. It has probably only been worn once.’

I turn my head to look at my side profile. It is a truly breathtaking dress.

‘Wait,’ she says and going to a glass case takes out a pair of long earrings. She gives them to me and I clip them on. They are so perfect that there is nothing left to do but buy the whole ensemble.

‘You’ll stun him,’ she says sagely as she is counting Shane’s money.

At that moment I know. I am not going to this party to be with Shane, but Jake. Even though he is a dangerous criminal and a sexual predator, he is the one for me.



Shane arrives at seven sharp wearing a white dress shirt with ruffles at the front and a black, single-breasted suit. He is a sight for sore eyes. In the daylight I see that his eyes are the brightest blue this side of heaven. Genuine admiration glimmers in the beautiful depths. He purses his lips and whistles.

I twirl around for him.

‘Wow,’ he says appreciatively.

I look at the huge bunch of flowers and the obviously expensive box of handmade chocolates he is hugging. ‘For me?’ I ask.

He holds them out.

‘Thank you,’ I say and relieve him of them. Truth is I was fourteen the last time a guy brought me anything. Andrew Manning bought me a bar of Aero, my favorite chocolate back then, and put it in his back pocket. I can still remember his red face when he fished the melted, shapeless thing out.

‘You look rather dashing yourself,’ I murmur, letting my eyes travel over his fine clothes.

‘I bet you say that to all the boys,’ he jokes in a low, throaty voice.


It could have been silly, but I had to listen to my father bringing the house down with Meatloaf while I was growing up, so it works for me. Suddenly it is as if I have known him for years. I know he’s going to be my ally. A friend I can count on. He waits while I put the flowers in a vase and then we leave the apartment together. The weather is unseasonably warm and still, so I don’t bother with a jacket. There is a gleaming black Maserati Ghibli parked outside. Shane unlocks it and settles me into the passenger seat before going around to his side. I have never been in such an expensive car before. It is the byword in luxury and it smells heavenly.

‘So where is your brother’s house?’

‘The party is in Essex. About an hour and a half away.’

The conversation is easy and fun.

We leave the highway and hit narrow country roads surrounded by lush forests and finally arrive at electric iron gates. There are paparazzi with long lens cameras hanging around outside. They start immediately snapping their cameras on the off chance that we are famous.

‘Why are the paparazzi here?’

‘They’re expecting a Hollywood A-lister.’

‘Who?’

‘Leonardo Dicaprio.’

‘Really?’

The gates open and we drive through. The road leads up to a fabulous purple-lit mansion with six tall Roman style columns at its entrance.

‘Wow!’ I cry. ‘This belongs to your brother!’

‘Nice, huh?’

‘What does one have to do to afford a pile like this?’

‘This and that,’ he says easily, but evasively.

I turn to look at him. ‘Is it a secret?’

He glances briefly at me. ‘No, but some things are better left alone.’

Well, that is some warning. I clear my throat. ‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to pry.’

He grins, the sparkle returning to his eyes. ‘It’s OK, babe. I don’t know what you’ve heard, but Jake’s not the baddest thing in town,’ he says, pulling up to the front of the large courtyard, and finding a parking space among all the other highly strung boy’s toys. Shane holds open my door and I get out of the low-slung seat as elegantly as my short dress will allow.

I look up at the magnificent house and the first flutter of nerves hits me.

‘You look beautiful,’ Shane whispers in my ear.

I look gratefully up at him. We walk up to the house and climb the flight of stone steps and two Josh lookalikes in black outfits stand at the tall doors.

Inside, the party is well underway. There are beautiful people everywhere I care to look. We cross the black and white antique marble floor polished to a high sheen and enter a large room full of beautiful furnishings. The music is loud and the room is full of glamour-soaked people.

A statuesque, deeply tanned blonde approaches us with a silver tray of champagne flutes.

‘Good evening,’ she greets. ‘Would you like a drink?’

Shane gets two glasses and putting one in my hand says, ‘Come. Let me introduce you to Leo.’

So I meet Leo—as charming and urbane as he was in the Great Gatsby but a bit rounder than I expected—and his escort, a very tall South American beauty. A lot of people seem to know Shane. I say hello to various characters—a TV celebrity, a news anchor woman, and a couple of Shane’s cousins, a few decidedly shady. But neither Dominic nor Jake seems to be around. I discreetly glance at my watch. It has just gone ten.

It is only when Shane excuses himself to go to the toilet and I wander over to the open French doors to gaze out at the long, immaculately manicured lawn and surrounding gardens that I hear a man’s rich and distinctively husky voice that seems to leap above the music and make my blood throb and rush to my clit.