The older man had been Margot Hampstead’s hairdresser as well. Raeg had seen him often in the Hampstead mansion before Margot’s death as well as after.
Rob
erto would have never been able to fool the highly perceptive Margot. She’d known him far too well, had worked with him for years. If Steven was the shadow agent also known as the former CIA’s Cyclops, then Margot would have known it.
The right height and build, but Steven and Roberto looked nothing alike, he thought. Then again, Cyclops had been known for his ability to hide in plain sight, that was what Shadow Ops did. They could change looks as easily as a chameleon, completely fooling those around them.
“What’s wrong?” she asked, clearly confused as she looked between them. “Do you recognize it?”
“Recognize it?” he whispered, stunned, so completely confused by the sight of this once-treasured piece of jewelry that he could barely process it. “It was our grandmother’s. It’s been passed down to the Falcone heir for over five hundred years, Summer. Each diamond, each gem, is considered priceless, completely flawless.”
She jerked her hand back, staring back at him in shock, then at the bracelet.
“A reproduction,” she whispered, blinking back at him. “It has to be a reproduction.” But he saw the suspicion in her eyes.
He turned it over, searching for the inscription on the back of one of the solid links, knowing it was no reproduction.
For our heart—Falcones
Rough, almost worn smooth, but there and still readable. He pointed to the words and watched her pale as she read them.
“How did Steven get it?” she whispered. “I know he knew your father and mothers…”
“He told you that?” Falcon questioned, his expression hard now, his gaze icy once again. “What did he tell you?”
Summer repeated their conversation. The events of the death of Raeg’s lover all those years ago and some advice Steven had given her left Raeg reeling—and if the look on Falcon’s face was any indication, his shock went just as deep.
“How did he fool us?” he questioned, turning to Falcon as he fought to process this information. “I’ve known Steven for years. He used to do Margot’s hair.”
Margot had been their mother’s closest friend as well as Roberto’s.
“Are you trying to say Steven is your father?” she questioned as Raeg felt a sense of unreality filling his senses.
“Steven has to be Roberto,” he told her, staring at the bracelet, then back to Summer. “And he just gave it to you?”
* * *
Summer nodded, holding back the last piece of advice Steven had given her to tell them the difference between their relationship with her and Raeg’s with the lover Roberto had killed so long ago.
Her own stubbornness in remaining silent on that conversation was in conflict with her desperate need for them and their presence in her life.
Pride could be a terrible thing, she thought wearily, watching as they exchanged looks. She knew those looks, knew the regret and longing in Falcon’s expression, so at odds with the icy cast of his gaze. The torment that filled Raeg’s gaze was just as apparent, yet neither man was smart enough to look to the past and see the differences between her and some stupid bitch who tried to use Raeg to further her own agenda as a double agent.
* * *
“Do you remember what I told you?” she asked both men, her chest tightening painfully. “If you leave me, there’s no coming back.” Gripping her fingers together she faced them, feeling the heaviness, the pain, like a familiar presence inside her chest now. “I love you,” she whispered. “You’ll let me face this with you, or I won’t be a part of your lives when or if you return. Are we clear on that?”
Raeg’s gaze went from the bracelet to Summer, his expression twisting painfully before he shook his head.
Stepping to her, he lifted her wrist silently and secured the bracelet around it. Once finished, he held onto her for several long moments, his thumb brushing over the links.
“Do you think we don’t love you?” he asked her, lifting his gaze to hers, and the sorrow in his eyes went so deep that his declaration couldn’t pierce the pain resonating inside her to allow her to feel even a moment’s joy at the knowledge.
She jerked her arm back.
“No, you don’t,” she said, her lips thinning as she stared between the two men. “Love doesn’t run away, Raeg. It binds lovers together. It creates a bond that danger can’t break. I will not be left behind like some helpless little twit. Leave me behind and I promise you, you will regret it.”
She didn’t need protectors. She wasn’t Cinderella and had no damned desire to be.