What Happened in Vegas…

His gaze burned into hers. “Sophia was a close friend of Malle Callibro.”

“So I’ve heard. Look, I—”

“She’s also my grandmother.”

2

GIDEON WATCHED Jacinda’s face pale. Her hands trembled around the pictures she held.

He wanted to comfort and assure her, but there was too much at stake. Hadn’t he come here for shock value? Hadn’t he counted on catching her off guard?

Still, it hurt to watch her hurt.

“Sophia Graystone is my grandmother,” he repeated, concerned that Jacinda needed a jolt.

Jacinda’s gaze jumped to his, back to the pictures, then latched on to his again. “So, you’re…you’re—”

“Incredibly wealthy and privileged.” He smiled gently. “Yes, I’m afraid so.”

She laid the pictures on the display case and stepped back. “You lied to me.”

“No, I don’t think I did.” He’d been careful, as always, and given her limited details. To some, his words would have been considered lying; to others, simply self-protection. “I told you I chased treasures for a living. You assumed I was a penniless and unsettled dreamer, and I—” He stopped, knowing even if he hadn’t directly lied before, he needed to come clean now. “And I encouraged you to accept that assumption. I feel like I’ve spent half my life dodging women with their eyes on my trust fund.”

She glared at him, her blue eyes as sharp as a laser. “Oh, gee, how horrible for you.”

He reached for her hands; she shook her head. “Not my best explanation. I am an unsettled dreamer. I’m just not exactly penniless.”

“Not exactly.”

The word billions in conjunction with his family’s wealth was arrogant and ridiculous, even though it was true. He’d purposely kept that truth from the Vegas dancer he’d known so intimately. After only a few hours with her, though, he’d also known she didn’t need protection, that she was a remarkable, amazing woman.

Still, he’d kept silent. He’d always wondered what it would be like to be loved and accepted for what he was and not who he was. With the perfect opportunity dangling in front of him, he’d grabbed it. He’d let her assume his only ambitions were for fame and fortune.

In short, he’d lied in a big way.

Now, he admitted no small amount of shame over that decision. He’d wanted her body, had been intrigued by her mind, but he wouldn’t have presented her in the drawing room of his grandmother’s Park Avenue home. Was he, after all, a hypocrite?

“I’m sorry I lied to you before, though I didn’t hide everything. I do chase down lost treasures for clients. I am fascinated by history and family heirlooms. I just happen to be able to bankroll my searches if I so choose. It’s my way of giving back. My family encourages community service.” He held up his hand. “No, that’s not enough. We’re required to give back. It’s practically a family motto.”

“How generous of you.”

He ignored her sarcasm. He deserved it. But there was so much more at stake than mottos and past liaisons. “It’s what I do.”

Her eyes sparking with fiery temper, she paced away from him. “You find treasure.”

“Yes.”

“But not for money.”

“Not usually. I do it to find lost legacies.”

She stopped. “Oh, please.”

“Oh, yes.”

“You’re just a generous and selfless kind of guy.”

“Naturally.”

Crossing her arms over her chest, she shook her head. “So why now? Why this treasure?”

He hadn’t expected her to listen to him and was actually relieved she hadn’t thrown him out of the building. That would have put a serious damper on his mission.

He needed Jacinda on his side. He needed her to believe him. Proving his claims that the emerald belonged to his family wasn’t going to be easy, and it was vital to have an ally in the opposing camp. “Obviously because of the family connection. It’s been a quest of mine for many years. When I saw the preview pictures of your auction, I knew I’d found it at last.” He paused, figuring he might as well spill the rest of it. “Imagine how surprised I was to find your name on the contact list.”

“My—” She stopped, narrowing her eyes. “You knew me as Jacy Powers.”

“I knew who you really were within twenty-four hours of leaving Vegas.”

Obviously embarrassed, she turned away.

“I was curious.” He lowered and gentled his tone. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to intrude.”

“It doesn’t matter,” she said tightly, though clearly it did. She spun back to face him, her face a blank mask. “If the emerald belongs to your family, how do you think it could have possibly found its way here?”

“It was stolen from my grandmother many years ago.”

“No kidding. Tragic.”

Her doubtful tone set him on edge. “It was.”

While he hadn’t expected to be welcomed with open arms, knowing his deception about his family and the money would be revealed, neither had he expected her to be so hard and cold. He remembered the laughter and teasing challenge in her eyes. What had happened to her that changed her so much?

“You have proof of this theft?” she demanded.

“I have the original insurance claim.”

“Dated nineteen-forty…”

“Nine.”

“And the insurance agent can testify to that?”

“He’s dead.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“We weren’t close.”