One Book in the Grave (36 page)

I would just have to suck it up for the next month. I was perfectly fine without him. I really was. And I trusted Derek completely so that wasn’t an issue, even though I hadn’t been able to stop myself from Googling the woman at the center of his assignment. Just as I’d feared,
Thomasina Marchand was young and gorgeous and artistically gifted. She dressed impeccably. And did I mention her immense wealth? Not that Derek could ever be swayed by material things, but nevertheless, I’d been suffering little pangs of jealousy ever since he’d flown off to pretend he was in love with her.

But that was completely normal, right? Anyone would have those little pangs, right? Of course they would. It didn’t mean anything. Derek and my connection was beautifully sound and solid. We had a happy, loving, exciting, and totally trusting relationship. He simply had an assignment to carry out, protecting Thomasina from threats of death until next month, when she became twenty-five, the age specified in her father’s trust. I knew Derek would perform his job to perfection. And then he would come home to me. That was all there was to it. I wasn’t worried. Nope, not me. No way.

“Come on—let’s go check out this crazy place,” Suzie said, putting her arm around Vinnie’s waist.

“Yeah, okay,” I said. “But do you guys mind if I make a quick phone call first?”

“Of course not, Brooklyn,” Vinnie said, her smile serene again. “Why don’t we meet you in the conservatory in fifteen minutes? Will that give you enough time?”

“More than enough. Thanks.”

They reminded me where the conservatory was, then walked out, closing the door behind them. I went to find my cell phone and sat down to make the call to Derek. I listened to the ringing of his phone and felt more connected to him already. I wasn’t sure whether that made me a lovesick idiot or just a lonely girlfriend. Either way, it was kind of pathetic, but I didn’t care.

“Hello?” a woman answered, whispering breathlessly into the phone.
Derek’s
phone. “Who is this, please?”

I had to bite my tongue to keep from saying, “Who the hell is
this
?” Who was this woman and why was she answering my boyfriend’s phone? Was this Thomasina? I decided on the spot to make it sound like a business call.

“I must speak to Mr. Stone immediately. This is his office calling.” I sounded officious and demanding, which was exactly how I felt.

“Ooh, so sorry, Derek can’t come to the phone.” Her voice was tinged with a vague but plainly Western European accent. French? Belgian? Sexy. She giggled softly. “He’s…ooh…he’s…ah…occupied.” Her rapid sighs made it sound as if she were in the throes of rapture. Seriously? Was she kidding? What the hell was going on?

Oh, God. Did I really want to know?

“Adieu,” she added in that same sultry tone, then disconnected the call, leaving me to blink and stare at my phone in shocked disbelief.