Priceless

Everything clicked into place in those long seconds as I froze in step on the train station platform. It all made sense now. Who he was. Why he’d attended the Mallerton Gala that night. How he had connections to Paul Langley and the university.

Brynne had wanted me to meet him. She’d tried to introduce us before her life was turned upside down with a surprise pregnancy and then the death of her father.

Why didn’t I figure this out before?

Ivan Everley was Ethan’s cousin who owned the houseful of paintings…

And I was so dreadfully screwed right now.

I lifted my chin and stood there, waiting to be called out by him, my proverbial neck stretched out on the chopping block ready for his axe.

But it didn’t happen like that.

No, instead he flashed me a smile that hit me right in the chest, and extended his hand.

“Gaby. So nice to finally meet you. E’s been telling me about you for weeks.”

I stared down at his hand and then looked up at his face again.

Smooth and calm, he kept with the devastating smile, hand still reaching out, waiting for me to take hold.

He’s pretending we’ve never met before.

My whole body seized into a state of paralysis.

Thank God he’s pretending we’ve never met before.

I just stood there like a mute, relief coursing through me in a torrent.

Ben cleared his throat and asked, “Are you all right, luv?”

Filan laid the back of her hand on my forehead to check if I was feverish and inquired, “Gabriellen?”

“You look like you’ve just seen a ghost, Gaby,” Ivan said softly, tilting his head at me in question. “I hope I haven’t frightened you.” His deep green eyes sparked in amusement, the color even more stunning in the full light of day.

“Ivan, h-h-hello,” I breathed, “n-no, you h-haven’t.” I put my hand into his and felt the heat of his skin as he shook it. More gibberish came out of my mouth, but I couldn’t say what exactly as I was having trouble controlling my breathing to speak any words at all.

Then he winked at me. And stroked his index finger along my palm as he pulled away.

A squeaky moan escaped my throat.

I could feel each of their eyes on me, probably wondering what in the hell kind of affliction had suddenly overtaken me. Ivan looked positively gleeful. Ass.

Filan broke the tension. “Our Gabriellen has been ill you know, Mr. Everley, and I think the train has exhausted her and she needs to rest in bed before rehearsal tonight.”

He gave an elegant bow of his head. “Of course she does, Mrs. Clarkson.” Then he moved beside me and pressed his hand to my back. “It sounds to me like you’re being put to bed, whether you need it or not, Gaby,” he said teasingly, before steering us toward a silver-blue Range Rover. He opened the front passenger side door for me and gestured with his other hand. “In you go.”

“Thanks,” I managed, unable to do anything other than follow his instructions.

While Ben loaded our luggage, Ivan settled me in and helped me with my seatbelt, the delicious scent of him invading my senses and bringing back memories I couldn’t afford to have banging around in my head again.

As he pulled back I swear he inhaled a breath and I felt the tips of his hair brush over the side of my jaw, making a tingle slide down my spine.

No way.

How in the hell would I survive the next three days with him?

I didn’t say anything as Ben and Filan chatted with Ivan on the drive. I observed and assessed, too shocked to join in. I needed a bit of time with this whole thing.