Urgency pounded through her veins.
Mackenzie burst into Devereaux’s suite without bothering to knock. What she had to tell him was far too important.
‘Devereaux!’ she called. ‘Dev! We need to talk!’
‘Mackenzie?’ He came through the door which led to the balcony. He was dressed in his dark blue bathrobe, but he wasn’t alone. The brunette from the newspaper photograph was right behind him, and she was dressed in a silk negligee.
A million hot needles of mortification pricked at Mackenzie’s chest, then began attacking her shoulders, her arms, and her entire body. Instead of caving into embarrassment and running out the door, she looked Devereaux’s latest lover in the eye. What she saw firmed her determination. The woman recognised her too.
‘I need to speak with you,’ Mac told him in a voice that didn’t waver.
‘It’s not convenient right—’
‘Now!’ she insisted.
He turned to the woman and Mac had to stop from crying out loud in anguish as he lifted his hand to run his palm down his latest lover’s cheek in the same gesture of tenderness he’d used on her. ‘Excuse me for a moment? This won’t take long.’
‘No. She’ll have to wait. I need to speak with you,’ the woman insisted.
Devereaux frowned, looking back to Mac and once again to the brunette. He hesitated, seeming torn for a second before he made his decision. ‘Why don’t you go back to bed?’ he suggested to the other woman.
The words were like swords stabbing Mackenzie in the gut, twisting relentlessly and disembowelling her. Such was the pain, she staggered and had to grab hold of the side of a table for support. Physically, she held tight to keep herself upright. Mentally, she launched at the woman, taking her neck in her hands and squeezing until she breathed no more. The violence of her thoughts shocked her but she was helpless to control them. She hung on by a bare thread, just managing to stop herself from choking the woman.
‘But—’ the woman protested.
‘I have business with Miss Roberts which clearly can’t wait,’ he told her firmly.
The brunette wasn’t happy. Her hands shot out and clasped at the sleeve of his robe, tugging him towards his bedroom. He shook her off—far less forcefully than Mackenzie would’ve wished for. ‘No, Lois. Not now.’
Lois.
Finally Mac was able to put a name to the face that had haunted her nightmares.
‘My study.’ Dev indicated to Mac as he strode towards the room. ‘I’ll give you five minutes.’
Mac pushed her shaking legs into motion and raced after him. She closed the study door behind her, shut out her nemesis and rushed straight into speech. ‘You can’t be involved with her.’
‘I beg your pardon?’ He sent her an imperious look, leant back on the edge of his desk and folded his arms across his chest.
‘Lois. You can’t be with her.’
His features softened a little as his arms uncrossed. Just for a second, concern creased his brow. ‘Mackenzie, what we had can’t continue. I thought you accepted it.’
‘Dev, she’s dangerous.’ Tears stung her eyes and she moved her hands towards him in a gesture of urgent appeal. ‘I don’t know if she’s mentally disturbed or not but I’m certain she’s the woman who murdered Eliza’s father.’
‘Whoa!’ His body jerked away from the desk. ‘Eliza’s father was murdered?’
‘It’s true.’ She nodded, growing more frantic by the second in her desperation to make him understand. ‘You need to listen to me. I know it sounds ridiculous, but it’s her! I recognised her photo in the newspaper today. I’d know her anywhere. I had to warn you.’
‘Mackenzie, you’re not making any sense.’ Through her rising hysteria she recognised he spoke slowly, trying to calm her. ‘Eliza told me her father died in a fire.’
‘Yes. No.’ Her nerves jumped all over the place and her hands gestured jerkily as she spoke. ‘I’ve never told Eliza the whole truth.’
‘Sit down with me.’
‘I don’t want to sit!’ She wanted to jump up and down on the spot. She wanted to shake him until he saw sense.
‘Humour me.’
Mac swallowed hard as he walked towards her, reached out, and took her hands in his. He led her to the couch and urged her to sit down beside him. ‘I’m listening. Start at the beginning.’
Tears scalded her eyes. ‘Eliza’s dad didn’t die in a fire—well, his body was found in his burnt out factory but …’ This was hard. More than a decade on and the pain still gripped her. ‘He was killed by a bullet, Dev.’
He raised his eyebrows but didn’t say anything and she rushed on.
‘The coroner said he didn’t die of smoke inhalation or burns. The police reports said he was shot at point blank range.’ She shuddered. ‘One bullet to the forehead.’
‘Was it suicide?’ he asked gently.
‘No! No weapon was found.’ She grabbed his upper arms in her hands and gripped hard as she swallowed back a sob. ‘Damn it, Dev! Listen to me! He was murdered—by that woman you’re with.’
He looked at her as if she’d gone mad. ‘Lois knew Eliza’s father?’
‘They were having an affair.’
He raised a hand and rubbed the nape of his neck. His expression conveyed that he found it all too incredible to believe. ‘I’m sure you’re wrong, but—’
‘No! I’m damned well not!’
‘—even if she was involved with him, why would she murder him?’
‘I don’t know why. We have to call the police,’ she said shrilly. ‘They can question her and discover the truth!’
‘I’m sorry, Mackenzie. I think you’re mistaken.’
‘She’s been wanted for questioning for ten years. You have to turn her in!’
‘Mackenzie, it can’t possibly have been Lois.’
‘How can you be so sure?’ She shook her head, so frustrated and disappointed he refused to believe her. ‘You’ve known her all of five minutes—she’s some woman you picked up at a nightclub for God’s sake! What do you really know about her?’ Her nerves were like taut elastic bands. Every cell bruised as he defended his latest lover against her claim.
‘I—’
‘Don’t try to tell me it isn’t her.’ She refused to listen to another word in the other woman’s defence and used her grip on his biceps to try to shake him. ‘I’d know her face anywhere even if nobody else has come forward to identify her.’
It was only when he stilled that Mac realised he’d been rubbing her back in slow, soothing circles all the while she’d ranted at him. ‘Okay.’ His voice was more reasonable. ‘Tell me why you’re so certain Lois is responsible.’
‘Lois was with him the weekend he was murdered.’ She thumped at his chest in her frustration because she was certain he humoured her and really thought she was some sort of delusional, hysterical female. But, she needed to make him believe.
Through unstoppable tears, the rest of the story poured out—Grayson’s track record with women, how she thought he’d loved her and had changed his ways, then the crushing discovery that he hadn’t truly loved her or been faithful to her, even though she was expecting their child and he’d asked her to marry him. ‘He told me he was going away on business for the weekend, but a friend saw him with … Lois.’ God, but the name tasted bitter on her tongue. ‘I saw them together in front of the hotel where they were staying, but I was so shattered, I didn’t confront them—I just had to escape.’
‘That must’ve been over ten years ago, Mackenzie, and if you didn’t actually speak to them, the woman he was with may not have been Lois.’ His tone was gentle, his words reasonable, but his expression told her he remained unconvinced by her story. ‘Maybe she resembled Lois, but people change over a decade and—’
She sat straighter and felt her lips set in a stubborn line. ‘It was definitely her.’
‘Sweetheart, you’re overwrought.’
Sweetheart. She wanted to wrap herself in the warmth of her endearment, but he’d probably used the same word when he’d addressed every other woman he’d slept with.
‘Grayson was murdered and she didn’t come forward and admit they’d spent the weekend together. There was video footage of them at the hotel and the police looked for her—asked her to come forward for questioning and she never came. They were never able to identify her. Why wouldn’t she come forward if she wasn’t guilty? Why didn’t a single person identify her?’
He shook his head. ‘You’re making assumptions.’
‘No.’ Why didn’t he get it? ‘When she saw me just now, I saw the recognition in her eyes. She knew me alright. That’s why she wanted to stop me from speaking to you. She must’ve realised she was going to be exposed.’ He had to believe her.
‘Macken—’
She jumped off the couch and went to the phone on his desk. ‘We need to call the police. She’s probably doing a runner even as we speak.’
‘No.’ He reached her as she touched the phone and his hand firmed over hers, preventing her from taking the handpiece from its cradle.
‘Devereaux, please! You have to believe me. She murdered Grayson. Now you could be in danger.’
He pulled her to him and the second she was against the solid wall of his chest and protected in the circle of his embrace, all the pent-up emotion and strain broke like the wall of a huge dam. Great racking sobs spilt forth and she couldn’t contain them anymore. ‘I know … you don’t want me,’ she got out between sobs. ‘But … it … can’t … be … her! You can’t want … her! Why … are you protecting her?’
***
Dev couldn’t help himself. He was helpless against her desperate need for comfort.
Bringing Lois here to the palace had caused more pain for Mackenzie than he could ever have imagined and reduced her to hysteria. He’d known that parading Lois as though she was his latest lover—a woman he was serious about—was going to hurt Mackenzie. But, he’d had no idea his action would open up past distress—that Mackenzie would somehow link Lois to Eliza’s father.
He soothed one hand down over Mackenzie’s soft, silky hair and thought about all she’d been through. Eliza’s father had done a real number on her and it was no wonder this beautiful, courageous woman was so wary about relationships. The guy must’ve been an idiot to sleep around when he could’ve married her.
But, as far as being involved with Lois … There had to be some mistake. Mackenzie had to be wrong about Lois and her former fiancé.
Inwardly cursing that a complex situation had just become even more complicated, he held Mackenzie tight. Each of her sobs splintered through him.
‘Mackenzie,’ he whispered as he swept her up into his arms and carried her back to the couch, cradling her there on his lap. ‘I’m so sorry I’ve hurt you.’ He’d wanted to keep her safe. And, he’d wanted to make sure Gabriel didn’t try to get closer to her. In the process he’d destroyed her trust and cut her heart to ribbons.
‘I didn’t want to care about you, Dev. I tried so hard not to,’ she sobbed. ‘Ten years on and I still haven’t learnt. I still have this weakness for charming playboys.’
The lance which had already skewered his heart, twisted, gouging at the organ that kept him alive.
She still cared for him, even after all he’d put her through. She was still prepared to warn him when she thought he might be in danger rather than hoping he did suffer some dreadful fate at the hands of a woman she thought was a murderer.
What the hell was he supposed to do?
Everything in his world narrowed down to a choice between two things—the mission or Mackenzie.
There was no choice to make. He loved Mackenzie. She was the most important thing in the world to him. Her needs came first and she needed to know the truth. She needed to hear his confession, to understand all he was involved in and why. Eden would’ve told him the same thing. His sister would know that as much as he wanted to avenge her death and bring down a drug network that affected thousands, nothing would bring her back. Mackenzie was here with him right now and her pain couldn’t be allowed to continue.
Squeezing her tight, he planted little kisses at her temples and across her forehead as he thought about what he was going to say to her—where he was going to start his explanation. Absorbed by his own thoughts and her quiet sobs, he didn’t hear the door of the study open.
‘Prince Devereaux, you’re going to be late for the trade talks.’
‘Not now, Hans,’ he answered tightly.
‘His Majesty won’t be happy, Your Highness. It won’t look good to any of the delegates if you arrive after proceedings have started.’
Mackenzie shifted in his arms, pulled away from his chest and scrubbed at her eyes with her hands. ‘Promise me you’ll look in to what I’m saying,’ she told Devereaux. ‘I swear I’m telling you the truth.’
‘Sweetheart, I—’
‘I can’t do this any longer,’ she said with sad resolve. ‘I’m sorry. I care about you very much, Devereaux, and I understand you don’t feel the same way but …’
‘Mackenzie—’
‘No. Don’t say anything. There’s no need.’ She shook her head. Her lip trembled and he could see she tried to be brave. ‘Be careful, Dev. I can’t bear to think you’ll be hurt.’
Before he could stop her, Mackenzie was off his lap and heading towards the door.
Dev got to his feet. ‘Wait, Mackenzie!’
‘Prince Devereaux!’ Hans reprimanded, his tone and expression of disapproval a firm reminder of all that was at stake.
‘Go to hell, Hans!’ Nothing was more important than Mackenzie. Not this mission. Not justice. The past was the past and Mackenzie was his future.
Hans had other ideas. He moved to let Mackenzie scoot past him and out the door, but blocked Dev.
‘Get out of my way, Hans!’
Mackenzie was getting away. He heard her footsteps as she ran out of the apartment.
The door slammed.
Dev pushed at Hans but he stood like a solid, immovable wall. ‘Out of my way, now!’
‘Does the memory of your sister and how she died really mean so little to you?’ Hans demanded.
Of all the things he could’ve said, that was probably the lowest. ‘Don’t be such a bastard, Hans.’
Lois came into the room and stood behind Hans. ‘Devereaux. You have to listen! You need to stop and get your head back in the game.’
The game wasn’t worth it. Nothing was worth it if he lost Mackenzie—if she went away hurting and broken because of him.
‘Move, Hans! That’s an or—’
‘You have to hear about Mackenzie’s former fiancé,’ Lois said.
Hell. Resistance drained out of Devereaux. Mackenzie must be right when she claimed there was a link between Lois and her former fiancé. Whatever Lois was about to tell him, he knew the web he’d spun had just become stickier.