Blackmailed Bride. Sylvie Kurtz

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СКАЧАТЬ popped into her mind. If he loved Alana, why had she left? Why wouldn’t she be back? Was it because of Jonas, or something else? Something permanent…like death.

      Some even say he killed her himself…

      “What about the people in the village, won’t they know the difference?” Cathlynn asked, trying to sway her thoughts away from their direful direction.

      “Alana rarely ventured there, and there’s no need for you to leave the monastery. All your needs will be taken care of. Only Valentin, my butler, and David Forester, my assistant, will need to know the truth, and they’ve both proven their trust.”

      Trying to slow down her mind and make sense of the bits of information he fed her, she focused on the tapestry over the fireplace. A medieval battle took place. Knights in shining armor on trusty steeds fought for the Holy Grail, killing for their perception of Truth and Right.

      Well, that didn’t help at all. The bloody carnage darkened her already dismal thoughts. There were always two sides to everything, weren’t there? Perceptions changed truth. Didn’t all the wars in the name of God prove that? Would she really be compromising her honesty by accepting the role in exchange for her heart’s desire? And there was Gram’s to think of. A week, a month. The doctors weren’t sure how long she had left; they could only say that her time was near. Would two weeks be too long?

      Cathlynn studied the room, looking for an answer to her dilemma among the sullen whispers of the past swirling about the room. The stones seemed to pulse again with unseen life.

      Beware.

      The whisper into her brain chilled her to the bone. She looked around the room, but saw nothing out of place. She shook her head, and put the perceived thought to a figment of her overtired mind.

      Oh, Gram, what am I getting myself into?

      Could she live for two weeks in the coldness of this grim stone house, among the austere monks’ ghosts and the cloak of sadness permeating the walls?

      “Can’t you get your funding elsewhere?” Cathlynn asked, trying to fill the heavy silence while she thought her alternatives through.

      “My options are…limited. The income from the monastery’s various holdings isn’t enough to support the monastery, let alone my research.”

      “The Monastery Company. That’s you?”

      “Yes.”

      “Why stay here then?” Cathlynn asked. “Why not sell this place?”

      He sat down, leaned his elbows on the chair’s armrests and tented his fingers. “You want the Aidan Heart, don’t you?”

      She nodded.

      “And there’s no logical reason for it, right?”

      “No.”

      He lifted his hands. “I love this place, and there’s no logical reason for it.”

      For an instant, his eyes showed the truth of his words and his face softened. Just as fast, the fleeting impression vanished, leaving Cathlynn to wonder if she’d simply imagined it.

      “As for my research,” he continued, “I do it for a very personal reason, and the trust would enable me to keep it—and the monastery—going without worry. I won’t be the only beneficiary of your kindness. A lot of people depend on me for their livelihoods, and maybe even their lives.”

      The reasoning seemed noble enough, yet Cathlynn sensed there remained much untold. Did she really want to know the truth? Shadowed fear fought with her soul’s deep yearning.

      “I can’t afford to take two weeks off work,” Cathlynn said, mirroring his seated stance. Years of dealing had taught her the fine art of negotiation. “I have to keep buying and selling merchandise.” But they had been lonely years. “I have to keep visible.” They hadn’t taught her to manage these strange gut feelings, or the way this man’s mere presence could short-circuit her usually ordered thinking. She fought now for her edge, for the safety of her professional mask, for the knowledge that his need matched her own in ferocity. How far would he go? “As much as I want the Aidan Heart, I do have to make a living. Then there’s the complication of my grandmother. She may not have two weeks to live.”

      His cold, gray gaze fixed on her. She didn’t flinch. The silence grew between them until Cathlynn thought she would suffocate from it. His pointed stare made her want to squirm, but instinct told her she couldn’t let her discomfort show. She kept very still outwardly, but inwardly everything buzzed.

      Staring back at him didn’t help, because she saw so much and yet so little in the vivid gray pools. Everything about him seemed so contradictory—sensuous lips and a hard demeanor; eyes that thawed and iced over with no rhyme or reason; a seemingly logical approach to everything and an illogical love for a place. Which was the real Jonas? The murderer of village gossip who’d killed his wife in a fit of rage, or the driven researcher looking for some mysterious cure?

      “Over the years, I’ve collected a fair amount of antique glass,” Jonas said finally, breaking his mesmerizing eye contact. Cathlynn swallowed her sigh of relief. “I’ve put off my collection’s appraisal for far too long. I’d like to hire you to do the job.”

      “I—”

      “I’ll pay you your going rate, and I’ll also give you free title to the Aidan Heart when you leave after the Christmas Fete.”

      Jonas Shades was no fool. He knew exactly which string to pull. Cathlynn was sorely tempted. She wanted the sculpture.

      She couldn’t leave without it.

      “I’ve worked hard for what I’ve earned,” Jonas added, leaning back in his chair. “I’d hate to see it go to my wife’s cousin, who hasn’t worked a day in his life and would squander it, when it could be put to good use. How much care does your grandmother need?”

      “She’s cared for physically. What she needs is my presence to tie her to reality.”

      “Would a visit every few days work?”

      If she accepted his offer, she’d have her treasure and money besides to increase her inventory of merchandise. Her work here would be legitimate, and the telephone would keep her in touch with Gram’s condition on a daily basis, and with the outside world should the need arise. Professionally speaking, she’d be a fool not to accept. What about personally? Could she trust this man?

      “Be assured, Miss O’Connell,” Jonas said. He had the air of a man who’d had enough of negotiations and now played his trump card. “As long as I’m alive, the Aidan Heart will never make its way onto the market. If you want it, make your decision. Now.”

      The deceptive silky smoothness of his voice rang with implicit power. She didn’t want to, but she yielded. She had no choice. Not if she wanted the Aidan Heart—for herself, for Gram.

      But she wouldn’t capitulate completely. She’d been her own woman far too long to submit meekly to anyone—especially someone who could buffet her like a rudderless ship in a storm.

      “All right, I accept, but I refuse to do anything illegal. I won’t call myself by your wife’s name. I won’t sign any СКАЧАТЬ