Page 24 of Ice Cold Christmas
“And how do you know that he was only checking on her?”
He took in the sight of Olivia. The tousled hair. The swollen lips. The pink stained cheeks. The red marks on her neck from the stubble that coated his face. “A woman looks a certain way after she’s been fucked. Melody…” If it even was Melody. He wouldn’t place a bet until the DNA test was in. Far too many scammers filled the world. “She looked terrified.”
Olivia gave a mocking laugh. “Pretty sure that’s exactly what a woman who’d just had sex with Victor would look like.” She tossed aside the sheet and bounded from the bed. “Terrified.” She hurried toward him with her hands outstretched. “Nothing has to change.” She curled her fingers around his forearms. “The plan stays in place.”
He’d had his plan in place for a very long time. He’d almost crossed the finish line, and now…this. “You knew Melody.”
“Uh, yeah, we both did.” Her head tilted to the right. Her blond hair—always carefully colored—trailed over her shoulder.
“Was she fucking Victor when she left?” Victor’s reaction was just over the top. The way he’d carried her up the stairs…
But Olivia laughed. “No. Definitely not.” Her hair flew with the negative shake of her head. “She couldn’t stand him.”
Right. Right. He expelled a breath.
“Victor is probably just covering his bases. He suspects she’s a scammer, too, and he’s not gonna let the woman out of his sight until he knows the truth about her.” Her hands rubbed down his arms. “Now come back to bed. It’s cold, and I want to crawl under the covers with you.”
But he didn’t move, not yet. “What if it is Melody? What happens then?”
She frowned at him. “What do you want to happen?”
Oh, that was easy. “I want her to disappear. And, this time, I want her to stay gone.”
Chapter Seven
She crept down the staircase. As she neared the bottom, she could hear the tick-tick-tick of the grandfather clock that waited in the foyer. Melody had rushed by that clock earlier, when she’d first arrived at the estate. Not even truly sparing it a glance. Now, she peered at it, her gaze drawn to the big, swaying, golden pendulum. Ever so slowly, it rocked back and forth. Back and forth.
The house was quiet. It should be quiet, considering that it was nearly four a.m. After she’d finally gotten Victor to leave her room, she’d waited for silence to claim the house.
Had he believed her story? Hard to say for sure. Victor was an enemy she’d expected but…
He was my lover, too? Melody wasn’t sure how to handle that revelation, and she certainly didn’t know how the new truth fit into her plans.
At the bottom of the staircase, she paused for a moment, listening to make sure that she didn’t hear anyone else moving around in the house. Then, still wearing Victor’s shirt, she hurried toward the study. Not the den where everyone had been gathered before, but the study two doors down from the den. The room that waited just beyond double, gleaming doors. She reached for one of the door handles. Unlocked. Perfect. If the study had been locked, she would have needed to sneak in the kitchen and find something to help her pick the lock. And she doubted that she’d be a master lock picker like Victor.
She hurried inside and went straight for the mahogany desk.
She’d needed to get into Mage Mansion. The better to search for the truth. And she couldn’t search if eyes were on her, so she’d had to wait and be sure everyone else was sleeping. She rushed forward, keeping the lights off. She grabbed for the first desk drawer of the left-hand side of the big desk.
“Are you intending to rob your father?”
Jeez—Melody bit back a yelp as she jumped.
And he turned on the lights.
Victor stood just inside the doorway. Victor, still without a shirt, clad in just his dress pants. No shoes or socks. And appearing far, far too awake. Seriously, did he ever sleep? And was he trying to give her a heart attack?
She blinked quickly then growled, “Lights off.”
“I’ll keep them on. And you didn’t answer my question.”
The stupid desk drawer was locked. “I’m not robbing anyone.” She was also doing a piss-poor job of searching the premises, too. “I’m looking for clues.”
He quirked a brow. “Are you now, Scooby Doo?”
Oh, someone wanted to be funny? While her heart was still threatening to leap out of her chest? “You try losing your whole life,” she snapped at him, “and then judge me, okay? I’m looking for clues.” Dammit, it did sound like she’d become Velma or Daphne and how the hell could she remember all the characters from a kids’ cartoon so perfectly when her own life was etched in shadows? Talk about unfair, but her doctors had warned her that situation could occur. She’d woken knowing who the president was. Knowing that the Atlanta Braves were her favorite baseball team. But not knowing her own family. Or her name. “I’m not stealing. I’m searching Sebastian’s desk because it’s been an exceedingly hard year for me. And I need answers.” She grabbed for the second drawer on the left. Yanked it open and?—
Gun.
