The man stopped just a foot away from Cordie, and his smile widened. She couldn’t help but notice the adorable dimple in his cheek.
“Cordie.”
“Yes?”
“I’m Liam Scott.”
He took her hand, pulling her to him. Aiden still had his arm around her shoulders and wasn’t letting go. A tug-of-war ensued until Cordie stopped it by extracting her hand from Liam’s and shrugging Aiden’s arm away. Liam’s greeting was not over. He bent down and kissed her on both cheeks. He finally turned to Aiden and shook his hand.
“Aiden,” he said briskly.
“Liam,” Aiden responded curtly.
Aiden didn’t have to be reminded of Alec’s warning that Liam was a womanizer. The way the man was looking at Cordelia was all the evidence he needed, and Aiden didn’t like it one bit. He was downright rude when he asked, “What are you doing here?”
“I wouldn’t miss it,” he said, keeping his gaze locked on Cordelia. “I’m a patron of the arts.”
Cordie didn’t know what Aiden’s problem was. There was absolutely no reason to be so antagonistic. “Then you attend these Gallery Balls each year?” she asked.
“No, this is my first.” He added as he tugged on his collar, “And hopefully my last.”
Aiden wasn’t amused. “Again, why are you here?” he asked, and before Liam could answer, Aiden guessed, “Alec sent you, didn’t he?”
Liam nodded. “He wanted me to meet Cordie.”
“And you chose the Gallery Ball to introduce yourself?”
Liam shrugged. “From what Alec told me about Cordie, I was curious to meet her as soon as I could.”
“What did he tell you about her?” Aiden folded his arms across his chest so he wouldn’t give in to the urge to shove Liam down the steps. He had taken an instant dislike to him and wasn’t in the mood to play games.
“He said she was drop-dead gorgeous.” Turning to Cordie, he said, “He was right.”
She could feel herself blushing and wanted to turn the discussion away from herself. “Alec mentioned you used to work for Interpol?”
Liam gave her a quizzical look and then began to laugh. “He said that, did he?”
“You didn’t work for Interpol?” she asked, confused.
Evidently he thought her question hilarious, because his laughter grew louder until she could almost see tears in his eyes. “Alec does have a sense of humor. I didn’t work for them. I was wanted by Interpol. It was all a misunderstanding,” he said offhandedly. “A painting was there, and then it wasn’t, but then it was again. See? Just a misunderstanding.”
Cordie couldn’t tell if he was joking or not, but she wasn’t given the chance to pursue the subject because Liam grew serious when he turned the conversation to another matter.
“Now it’s my turn to ask questions,” he said. “What are you going to do when Simone and Craig Rayburn arrive? I’ve already checked. You don’t have a gun, so I know you aren’t going to shoot them. What’s the plan?”
Aiden answered for her. “Cordelia wants to give Simone the shock of her life, but she doesn’t want to talk to her.”
“Then how is she going to shock her?” He turned to Cordie. “Did you bring a Taser? That would shock the hell out of her.”
“No, I—” Cordie began.
“Because if you didn’t,” he continued, “I’ve got one in the car you can borrow.” He looked around at the gathering crowd. “Are you hiding behind this pillar?”
“No, of course not,” she said, knowing full well it was a lie. “I’m waiting for the Rayburns to arrive.”
He grinned. “So you can shock them.”
Liam was having a bit too much fun for her liking. Before she could tell him so, he changed the subject again by asking her how she liked Sydney and then launching into a litany of the attractions she should see. As he spoke, he took her hand and pulled out a chair at the table for her. He sat down next to her and leaned in, focusing on her as though she were the only person in the room. She could tell that Aiden was trying his best to remain composed and polite, but he was not happy about Liam’s intrusion. He looked as though he was about to say something when a man came up and greeted him. From that point on he was distracted by a steady stream of men and women who recognized him. Each man wanted to talk about various projects he just knew Aiden would want to invest in, and each woman simply wanted Aiden. Cordie couldn’t blame the women. Aiden was what she’d heard one of them call a real catch, and from the way they were eyeing Liam, he was just as attractive to females on the prowl. Cordie wasn’t immune to Liam’s good looks and charm, but in her estimation he paled in comparison to Aiden. She thought that was a pity. She desperately wanted to be attracted to another man.
A waiter appeared with glasses of champagne on a silver tray. Cordie was so nervous she had to force herself not to guzzle the drink. There was a short welcoming speech by the president of something or other—she wasn’t paying attention—and then the orchestra began to play.
Aiden extricated himself from his growing entourage and walked over to Liam. “I’d like a word with you, Scott,” he said, his tone downright belligerent.
Liam looked up. “Sure, go ahead.”
“I don’t believe you’ve answered my question yet. Why are you here?”
Liam pushed the chair back and stood. “Alec thought there might be trouble, and I owe him a favor, so here I am. He’s worried about Cordie.”
“I can take care of Cordelia.” Aiden’s voice radiated anger.
Liam wasn’t fazed by the heated response. “And I can take care of Rayburn and his sons . . . if there’s trouble.”
Cordie rolled her eyes. She wasn’t impressed by the testosterone throwdown. She stood between the two men and sweetly said, “How about I take care of myself?”
“Heads up,” Liam said, looking over Cordie’s shoulder.
Cordie and Aiden turned toward the entrance.
“The Rayburns are here,” Aiden said.
TWELVE
Simone and Craig Rayburn seemed to be the in couple.
They stopped just inside the entrance, apparently oblivious to the fact that they were clogging the pathway for other guests behind them as they greeted friends and business associates. Craig removed Simone’s wrap and handed it to a hovering coat-check lady, then took Simone’s elbow and guided her through the crowd. They slowly made their way to the opposite side of the ballroom, pausing again and again to chat with people vying for their attention. Cordie couldn’t get a good look at Simone because other guests obstructed her view. She saw Craig clearly, though, and the bulldog comparison was even more accurate than she’d imagined. His jutting lower jaw was rather impressive, and his bottom teeth showed when he spoke. He wasn’t an attractive man by anyone’s standards, but from the way people were reacting to him, he obviously had achieved a certain level of stature among the wealthy elite. Shaking hands and kissing cheeks, he worked the room with great finesse. Each person he greeted seemed happy, even thrilled, at his attention, and there was no doubt he relished all the adulation. His smile seemed genuine enough, but there was a hint of arrogance behind it.
The couple reached their reserved table and took their seats. After a few minutes, their friends gradually drifted away to their own tables, and Cordie saw Simone clearly for the first time. She wore a shimmering silver strapless gown. In person, Cordie didn’t think they looked all that much alike. Simone’s hair was just as dark as hers and she seemed to be the same height, but their body shapes were different. Simone was extremely thin. She didn’t have any curves or an ounce of fat, though judging by her skinny sculpted arms, she worked out daily. Simone turned toward the dance floor. Cordie couldn’t see the color of her eyes, though she guessed they were blue. In the photo Alec had shown her, Cordie saw the resemblance, but now she was having trouble finding the similarities. Some would cons
ider Simone a beautiful woman, but compared to the picture, the angles of her face were sharper and more defined. She was in her forties now, so the lines were probably because of age and stress. No, that wasn’t true. Simone wasn’t affected by stress—she caused it. Others might think they looked alike, but Cordie didn’t want there to be any resemblance at all.
Aiden put a supportive arm around her shoulders. He leaned down and whispered, “Are you okay?”
“I don’t want to look like her,” Cordie said.
“I know.”
Cordie couldn’t take her eyes off the couple. They were having a fine old time. Craig said something Simone thought was quite funny. She put her hand on his chest, laughed, and shook her head.
Alec had filled Liam in on Cordie’s situation, and Liam hadn’t really had an opinion until this moment, but watching Simone laughing and carrying on with her husband and her friends, as though she was a queen holding court, he felt a jolt of anger for Cordie. Simone had accomplished the impossible. She had successfully rewritten history.
Craig suddenly spotted someone in the crowd. He stood and waved to draw their attention. Cordie turned in that direction and saw the Rayburns’ two sons, Glen and Knox, enter the ballroom.
“The sons look like their father,” Liam remarked. “That’s a real shame.”
The brothers were not handsome, but they were impeccably dressed in their designer tuxedos, and they exuded unusual confidence for such young men. Cordie guessed the older brother, Glen, was around eighteen. They headed straight for their parents, and Simone greeted them with a broad smile as they approached. When each son embraced his mother warmly, Cordie felt a blow, like a fist to the stomach. She was outraged, and the longer she watched the outwardly touching scene of family affection, the angrier she became. This was the woman her father had loved, the one he had ached to see again. She had lied to him and caused him so much pain. All those years were wasted as he pined for Natalie Smith, a woman who didn’t exist.
Cordie reached for her beaded bag and took out the letter she’d sealed in a hotel envelope. Stopping a passing waiter, she handed the letter to him and pointed across the room to Simone as she gave him instructions.
Liam watched with growing curiosity. “I know it isn’t my business, but may I ask what’s in the envelope? Is Simone going to go postal when she sees it?”
Aiden was just as curious, but he had intended to wait until they were back in the car to find out. “If you don’t want to tell us what you wrote—” he began.
“I didn’t write a letter,” she said quietly, her eyes still on Simone.
“Then what’s in the envelope?” Aiden asked.
“A copy of the letter she left for my father. I thought she might want to read it again. Years have passed since she wrote it, and she might have forgotten some of the cruel things she said. I wanted to remind her and to let her know . . .” Her voice drifted off as her attention remained fixed on Simone and her family.
Neither Liam nor Aiden asked any more questions. They kept their eyes on the waiter, watching him weave in and out of the crowd to get to Simone.
Craig Rayburn had left his wife’s side and was sitting at a table with friends. A couple came up the stairs from the dance floor and stopped to talk to Simone just as the waiter reached her. Smiling, Simone took the envelope and walked a few feet away from her friends before she opened it.
Cordie watched her pull the letter out and unfold it. Simone didn’t have to read much to know what it was. She stiffened, and there was such a look of panic on her face it was almost as though she had seen something grotesque. She frantically looked to her left, then to her right, as she folded the letter and refolded it. Mindless of where she was, she stuffed the letter down the bodice of her gown. Out of sight, out of mind? Was that her mantra? For a brief second or two she looked terrified. Glancing around one last time to see if anyone was watching, she again plastered a serene expression on her face and rejoined her friends.
Cordie wasn’t through taking the woman down memory lane. She wanted one more jab to make certain Simone understood that she hadn’t gotten away with her little scam, that the daughter she’d tried to erase knew what she had done. She didn’t intend to cause a scene or confront Simone. She just wanted some vindication for her father, to make Simone realize her deceptions had not evaporated into thin air. They existed. Once she saw that recognition in Simone’s eyes, Cordie would let go of the anger, never say Simone’s name again, and get on with her own life.
Cordie walked around the table and took a spot in front of a pillar. Standing on the top step, she simply stared at Simone and waited.
Aiden wasn’t sure what Cordelia planned to do, but he wasn’t going to let her do it alone. Liam followed him. They stood on either side of her.
Across the room Simone was smiling and nodding, but her eyes were not on the people in front of her. She seemed to be distracted, impatiently looking around as though waiting for someone to jump out at her.
“Here comes good old dad,” Liam said.
Julian Taylor, a tall, thin man who walked with an air of authority, was making his way toward his daughter, stopping to shake a few hands, and deigning to give a rigid smile to only a few people.
When Simone saw her father, her expression changed. Like someone who was looking for an escape, she glanced around the room in desperation. And that was when she saw Cordie. Her face turned white in an instant. She shook her head as though trying to change what she was seeing. Taking a step in retreat, she looked again at her father, and then stiffly turned back to Cordie, no doubt making sure she was still there. Cordie could detect a hint of anger now, and that surprised her.
She could almost see Simone’s mind racing. How could she keep her father from seeing what she was seeing? She turned in his direction and her hand went to her throat. Letting out a soft cry, she slowly and dramatically fell to the floor. It was the most graceful and phony faint Cordie had ever seen. She wasn’t the only one who noticed.
“Should we clap?” Aiden asked.
“You wanted to shock her,” Liam reminded.
Cordie nodded. “Shall we go?”
Aiden draped her cape around her shoulders and took her hand. “You’re sure you’re finished here?”
“Oh yes,” she said, smiling. “I’m finished.” She looked across the ballroom one last time. A crowd had gathered around Simone, who was still pretending to be in a dead faint. Her husband had her in his arms and was talking to his sons as he nodded toward the entrance.
Liam walked to the doors with Cordie and Aiden, who had already texted Cavanaugh to tell him to bring the car around. He was suddenly anxious to get Cordelia away.
“You could tear that family apart just by telling them who you are,” Liam remarked.
She shook her head. “I don’t want to destroy her family. Like I said, I just wanted her to know. Now I’m finished. I don’t ever want to hear her name again.”
Seeing one of the Rayburns’ sons pushing his way through the crowd and heading to the entrance, Aiden increased the pace.
Cavanaugh pulled up just as they exited the building.
“It was a pleasure meeting you both,” Liam said. He shook Aiden’s hand and then turned to Cordie, taking her hand in both of his. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”
Aiden thought the good-bye was lasting longer than necessary, so he took Cordelia by the arm and ushered her into the backseat.
Cordie was quiet on the way back to the hotel. She was thankful Aiden wasn’t asking her questions, because she wasn’t ready to talk about the Rayburns. The only good thing she could say about them was that they lived on a different continent and she would never have to worry about running into them. She stared out the window. Her hands were shaking and she was spent. Taking deep breaths, she tried to slow her racing heart. She had been so nervous the entire time she was at the Ga
llery Ball, but now it was over, and she could relax and get rid of her anxiety. She just wasn’t sure how to go about it. Yoga would help. At least that’s what Regan often told her. Yoga was good for stress, she’d said. She had even bought Cordie a yoga mat. Whatever had she done with it? she wondered. She’d have to search for it when she got home.
Aiden finished listening to his messages and reading his texts, then turned to Cordelia and said, “Have you calmed down?”
“I’ve always been calm. Why would you think I wasn’t?”
“You were hyperventilating, and your face was red. It isn’t now, so you must be feeling a bit calmer.” He added, “But you’re still frowning.”
“I’m fine.”
“No, you’re not.”
“I’m just trying to remember where I put my yoga mat.”
He wasn’t buying her obvious attempt to look relaxed. “You do yoga?”
“No.”
“But you have a mat.”
“Yes, Regan gave it to me. Yoga helps with stress.”
He put his hand on top of hers. She was still shaking. “Would you like to go out to eat, or do you want to go back to the hotel and do yoga?”
She didn’t acknowledge his wisecrack. “Back to the hotel.”
“Then that’s what we’ll do.”
“You could go out. You could drop me off if you want.”
He laughed. “I could? Thanks.”
Cordie really did relax then. For a while there, Aiden had been a sympathetic, almost loving, man, but now he was back to being his arrogant and impertinent self, and she felt a sense of normalcy again.
Several minutes passed in silence, and then Cordie said, “I’m going to have to wear this beautiful gown somewhere else so I won’t associate it with them.”
“‘Them’ being the Rayburns?”
“Yes. It probably cost a fortune,” she said. Her fingers gently brushed the fabric of her skirt. “Miss Marie’s bill for all the outfits will be astronomical. Oh, I know what you’re thinking. I can afford it, right? My father left me a fortune. That’s true; however, I’m going to be sensible about it. I’m not used to spending that kind of money on clothes, and designer labels are lost on me. My father was a generous man, but I’ve always survived on my own. I taught in a Catholic high school, for Pete’s sake. Do you know what the teachers make? Zip. They make zip.”