Chapter Two
Jacques waited until long after Emily had excused herself to the powder room. His gaze fell on his Cinderella from the ferry. His dragon nudged him to get closer. Her long blond hair cascaded down her back in thick fat curls. Crimson red flowed from the chiffon of her long dress. Crystal jewels encased around her waist and above the simple split between the swell of her breast.
“Olivia Haralamb.”
Jacques stiffened at the sound of his foster mother’s voice. She laid her hand on his arm. “Daughter of Senator Ludovic Haralamb, the gentleman beside her.”
And the same portly gent Jacques had seen her with earlier.
“We missed you on the ferry.” He didn’t bother looking in Margaret’s direction.
“I had other means of transportation. Lord Giresun was kind enough to allow me to arrive earlier to ensure the art had been strategically placed.”
Jacques glanced over at the wide stair case. “You’re sure this will all play out the way you predicted?”
His pulse ticked a bit faster as Olivia Haralamb glanced in his direction. She fluttered her lashes at him before taking a drink of her fluted champagne.
“I see no reason it should not, do you?” Margaret steered him away from Olivia. She smiled, her red glossed lips glinted under the chandler lights. Her short silver hair bounced as she moved her head.
“She’ll kill you when she sees him,” he said.
“And you’ll deny ever knowing.” Her silver eyes narrowed on him. “You know what is riding on tonight’s success.” She paused, accepted a refilled flute glass of champagne from the waiter and once he moved out of earshot turned back to Jacques. “Stay away from the Haralamb girl, she’s not for you.”
“And you know this because you’ve taken charge of my love life now, too?”
His mother tugged on his suit coat and tightened his tie. “A mother only wants what is best for her fiú.” She glanced around him at the stairs, patted his heart. “Shouldn’t you be checking on our sweet dear Reese about now?”
She didn’t give him the opportunity to respond. Margaret rose her glass and headed into a crowd around one of the pieces of art she pretended to have created.
Jacques took a deep breath, shook his head and glanced once more at the stairs. Come on, Emily Reese, let’s get out of here.
In the foyer, near the stairs, Olivia Haralamb had separated from her father. He snatched a flute from a nearby waiter and followed her into what appeared to be a den off the main room.
She stood in the far back, admiring a pale blue dragon’s egg, it’s ombré color rippling under the lighted glass. Its shell cracked open to reveal a village painted and sculpted inside.
“So, this is where Cinderella goes during the ball.”
She went to lift her flute to her lips, realized it empty and frowned. “I find these types of gatherings quite a bore, don’t you?”
“You learn to survive.” He held out his champagne-filled flute toward her. “Here, I’ll trade you.”
“You’re filled with all kinds of good deeds this evening, aren’t you?” She smiled and inside his dragon rolled over like a lap dog. She exchanged flutes with him.
“Just call me Prince Charming.”
“Charming, are you?” She took a sip of champagne. “My father warned me about men like you?”
“Really? Then I suppose he informed you we’re not only charming but are known to admire beautiful things.”
“And there comes the charm again.” A quick dart of her tongue over the rim of the flute sparked a jolt of heat cursing through him.
“It takes years to create a collection such as this.” Cool it Fury, we’ve got a job to do.
Olivia tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. A string of glittering orbs hung from her ear. “Are you a collector?”
Her reflection glinted back at him through the light of the glass covering the egg.
“I find dragon eggs a bit pricey for my taste.”
“My father says they are amongst the most sought out eggs on the black market right now.”
“I believe you.”
“That’s the only reason father decided to come.” Olivia took another sip, swaying gently as she spoke.
“Since when does Senator Haralamb involve himself in the illegal dealings?”
She leaned close to him, pressed her breast against his arm and his dragon flipped inside him. “He’s bit of an egg enthusiast you could say.”
Jacques sat the empty flute down on a shelf nearby. “Really. I wouldn’t have taken him for the collector sort.”
“You know my father?” She didn’t appear at all surprised.
“Only by reputation.”
“Then you know who I am?” She took a sip and watched him over the rim of her glass.
“Olivia. It’s a sophisticated name. I like it. Unless of course, you prefer Cinderella.”
“And I call you Charming?” She quirked a brow at him. “What is your name?”
He couldn’t help feeling they’d begun to play a game. A very dangerous game. “Jacques Moldvan at your service, Princess.”
“Moldvan? Then that would mean… Margaret Moldvan, the artist?”
“One and the same.” He bit his lip for a moment to stop for blurting anything unsavory before her.
“She is?” Olivia tilted her head and waited for his response.
“If you ask her, she’ll tell you she’s my mother.” Jacques shrugged. “I prefer to call her Margaret.”
“Is she?” Olivia took another sip of her champagne.
Suddenly, Jacques dragon side became jealous of that flute with her lips and tongue touching it. “Foster mother.”
She reached over and ran her finger down the lapel of his jacket. “I suppose I should think you for helping me on the ferry.”
Jacques’s dragon leaped at her touch. She looked at him with those stormy blue eyes. Unable to resist, he placed his hands on her waist, drawing her in. “I suppose you should. It’s not every day I get down on my knee for a girl.”
She tilted her head and gazed at him. “Not even your wife? I do wonder where you left her? Won’t she wonder where you’ve gone?”
“Wife?”
He let his hands slip away from her. Damn Margaret and her schemes. His dragon retaliated, and his fingertips became cold as the warmth of touching her body retracted from them.
“The pregnant woman on the ferry, isn’t she your wife?”
Tongue tied on how to respond, Jacques warred with his dragon. Tell her she belongs to us. Tell her Emily is nothing.
He should tell her the truth, as his dragon side commanded, but he couldn’t. Not when it meant exposing them this early in the evening.
A feeling of dread hit is stomach. Emily is in trouble.
“No.” Spontaneously, he smacked his lips against Olivia’s. Surprised by his sudden behavior she raised her hand, to slap him or caress him, he’d never know. He retreated as swiftly as he kissed her and took off toward the stairs.
His dragon side protesting the entire way.