36

“Good afternoon, ma’am.” The man who had approached Jilly pushed back a very white cuff to look at his Rolex.

She said, “Good afternoon,” hating the way her stomach turned. “This is a wonderful shop. I’ve heard a lot about it but I’ve never been in before.”

“Prestons is a New Orleans institution among antique connoisseurs. I’m Russell Smith, the manager.” He offered his hand and Jilly shook it. She didn’t miss the faint flicker of his blue eyes taking in her casual shirt and pants. “Did you have something special in mind?”

Run, run, run. Now, that would be stupid behavior for an adult woman. “I came in hopin’ that Mr. Preston might be here. Mr. Sam Preston. I’m a friend of his.” Since she had no idea whether the Prestons were talking about Edith’s long-lost daughter, she had decided not to mention the relationship.

The change in the man’s demeanor wasn’t subtle. He inclined his narrow head and gave her his full attention. “Is he expecting you, Miss…”

“I’m Jilly Gable. No, he’s not expectin’ me but I’m sure he’ll see me if he has a few moments to spare.” And then she would tell him what she’d been rehearsing while she drank too many cups of coffee in a nearby café.

Not a strand of Russell Smith’s blond hair was out of place. He had a light, even tan that made the best of unremarkable but pleasant features.

His lengthy silence gave him away. Russell wasn’t sure what to do about Jilly.

“Look,” she said. “Perhaps I’ve come at a bad time. If he is in today, or if he’s comin’ in, please tell him I stopped by. I think he’ll be pleased I was interested in the shop.” The place was deep and she could see one room leading to another. A hush hung in lemon-scented air.

“Please don’t rush away,” the man said. “Mr. Preston did mention dropping by today. He spends more of his time at auction than he does here, much more, but I know he won’t be at any of the houses today or tomorrow. Do let me make you comfortable while I try to find out when he might arrive.”

“That’s a lot of trouble.” And she’d completely changed her mind about the wisdom of a heart-to-heart with her mother’s husband.

“Jilly? I’ll be—is that you, Jilly Gable?”

At the sound of a familiar male voice, she turned sharply, just in time to be engulfed in a crushing hug from Wes Preston. His smile was a thousand watts and he chuckled delightedly. “Of all the people I didn’t expect to see in here, you’re probably it. Welcome. If you’d let us know you could have come on the chopper. Has Russell been looking after you?”

She stiffened in his arms. “He certainly has.”

“Miss Gable was hoping to find your father here,” Russell said. “I was just going to ascertain if he plans to be in New Orleans today.”

“I’ll save you the trouble. He does. But he’s busy for an hour or so, which gives us time for a late lunch, Jilly.” He frowned slightly. “Tell me you haven’t already eaten.”

“I haven’t.” She didn’t want to go anywhere with him. “But I’m not really hungry.”

“Of course you are.” He tucked her hand under his arm and started toward the door. “When Mr. Preston comes in, ask him to call me,” he said without looking back. To Jilly, he said, “Edith called and said Laura was comin’ into town with Daddy. Apparently there’s some ring he wants to show her—as if she didn’t already have enough. My father loves to give presents.”

“I know,” Jilly said. “I believe he’s a very generous man with a basically good heart.” Suddenly she was desperate to squelch any idea that she felt close to Wes, or that they shared some sort of secret.

“Really?” He raised his dark eyebrows.

Outside, he opened the passenger door of a black Mercedes coupe and helped Jilly inside. The moment he was behind the wheel, he grinned at her and started the car. “This is great,” he said, and entered the flow of traffic. “I’ve got a favorite place for lunch and they’re already expectin’ me. They’ll be more than happy when I show up with you.”

“I’m not dressed for—”

“You look great,” Wes said. “This is a very different place but I’m not tellin’ you another word about it. I want you to be surprised. How come you decided to go lookin’ for Daddy?” Some of the good humor left him.

“I wanted to talk to him,” she said. There was no reason to avoid the truth. “You know things have been strained between us. I can’t follow your advice and just stay away because that would mean stayin’ away from Edith.”

“Edith stayed away from you for most of your life,” Wes said. “I don’t want to salt the wound but it’s true. Why do you care about her now?”

She couldn’t begin to tell him how complicated her feelings were for Edith. “She wants to make up for lost time. If I can help her get over the guilt she feels—and she does feel guilty—then why not? I know all about the past but it is past and I believe in moving on.”

“St. Jillian.”

She ignored the dig but wished she hadn’t let him talk her into coming with him.

“So what do you intend to say to Daddy?”

“I’ll know when I talk to him.”

Wes gave a short laugh. “In other words, back off?”

“Somethin’ like that,” Jilly agreed. “You’ve been kind to me, more kind than you had to be. Let’s not argue about something we disagree about.”

Wes shot her one of his brilliant smiles. “You’re a wise woman.”

He had driven down a one-way backstreet. Jilly had been too engrossed in their conversation to notice the route they’d taken, but they were still in the Quarter. “I don’t recall this street,” she said.

Wes reached a wrought-iron gate on the right-hand side and stopped. “I don’t know what it’s called,” he said, watching while a man appeared inside the gate and swung it wide open. “I’ve been coming here so long, I’ve forgotten, but that’s ridiculous. I’ll ask.”

He drove into a courtyard built up on three sides and without landscaping. Jilly looked back in time to see the man who let them in close himself outside the gate and leave.

Wes hit an overhead button and a garage opened. He drove inside and got out of the car and Jilly did the same before he could open her door. Why would he have controls to a garage at some restaurant? She pushed her hands behind her back so he wouldn’t see them tremble.

“I’ve been comin’ here since I was a kid,” he said. “Daddy and the owner are old friends. You’re going to croak when you see the way the place is set up.”

They were closed inside the garage now—with several other expensive cars—and Wes went directly to punch a button for an elevator. They stood there, faces raised, listening to the car descend.

She shouldn’t have gone to the antiques shop, but above all she shouldn’t have come here. It didn’t feel right and she was plain scared.

“After you,” Wes said, when stainless-steel doors opened.

In they went and up they went, coming to a smooth halt and stepping into a bamboo-paneled hallway with fitted green carpet on the floor. Wes took her by the arm and walked purposefully to stained-glass doors where tropical flowers were scattered between fern fronds and palm leaves. The doors hung on runners and Wes pushed one aside. “Come on in and make yourself comfortable.”

This was no restaurant.

Jilly kept an appreciative smile on her face and walked into an oblong room where wide silk streamers in bright hues looped the ceiling. Divans of carved dark wood, upholstered in silk to blend with the streamers, surrounded the room, a circle of them with nothing in the middle but a continuation of the green carpet.

“They haven’t set up,” Wes said, and Jilly thought his expression fixed. “They didn’t know when I’d show and it only takes a moment. Try one of the divans. You won’t believe how comfortable they are. I’ll get things under way.” He looked at her a moment. “You’ll be okay here on your own?”

She chuckled. “I’m a big girl, Wes. Of course I will.”

For the first time she was aware of him sizing her up, and the look in his eyes couldn’t be mistaken for anything but sexual interest. “Right,” he said. “I’ll be back shortly.”

She gave him sixty seconds by her watch, then trod quickly and quietly toward the door. First she listened and when she heard no voices or movement, dared a peek outside. The corridor was empty.

Even a country girl could sense danger and there was something very wrong in this place. This could be her only chance to get away.

Hitching the strap of her purse high on her shoulder she slipped swiftly out of the room and to the elevator, where she pressed the button. Her best hope was to go out by the route she’d come in—at least she knew it. She prayed she’d be able to open the garage door, and the gate out of the courtyard.

A sound from above almost weakened her knees with relief. The elevator was coming. Jilly looked around but she was still safely alone and very little time had passed since Wes left her.

The slightest of bumps came and the door slid open. Her head felt light and her stomach burned.

Jilly almost stepped inside. Before her second foot joined the first, two strong hands took her by the arms and spun her out of the elevator. Dangling above the floor, she looked back at Wes Preston, who regarded her with no particular expression.

The corners of his mouth turned down. “Why are you trying to leave?”

“I… I don’t have as much time as I thought I did. I was going to get your cell number from Edith and call you just as soon as I could.”

“Liar.” He sneered and without putting her down took her back to the room with the divans. She landed on one of them with enough force to jar her back. “Don’t move from there.”

Her heart beat so loud she could scarcely hear. Wes took hold of her purse strap and pulled it from her. She fought to hold on but was no match for him.

Jilly tried to stand up but he made sure she stayed where she was, this time by slapping the side of her head and grinning as she fell.

From her purse he took her cell phone. This he slipped into one of his own pockets. He searched through her possessions and, apparently satisfied they were no threat to him, tossed the purse down on top of her.

Why didn’t I think to call Guy? “Listen to me very carefully,” Wes said. “Do as you’re told and nothing will happen to you. I wouldn’t have done what I just did if you hadn’t made me mad by behaving as if you were afraid of this place and of me.”

I am.

“Daddy’s on his way here,” Wes said. “He can entertain you while I make a few necessary arrangements. One or two warnings—In Daddy’s eyes I can do no wrong. It could go badly for you if you start lyin’ and suggestin’ I told you to get away from him. He’s so touched you wanted to meet up with him, he’ll be very generous to you and to all of us.” His expression darkened. “If you know what’s good for you, you’ll keep your mouth shut and do whatever Daddy tells you to.”