The Gilded Chain

He for one was the product of two wretched examples of human nature. Grandpa Thorne was the only family member other than Hayden who Wes officially acknowledged. His own parents were a pair of polecats scratching, biting, clawing, with no thought or care as to those around them. When he’d left for college, he only came home to the island because he loved it, not because his parents were there. Someone had to keep an eye on his friends and, most important, his sister. If he had to run into his parents a few times a year at public events, it was something he would endure.

Callie pushed back her chair and both men rose to their feet as she stood. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to use the ladies’ room.”

“What has you in such a black mood?” Dimitri asked when Callie was out of ear shot.

Wes shrugged. “Thoughts of the past, they turn me black.” He rarely admitted weakness, but Dimitri was someone he trusted.

“There’s no reason for that. You see the lovely lady who just left? She likes you. That has to erase all dark thoughts from a man when a woman like her wants you.”

“Believe me, she is a hard one to get into bed. She’s in love with my childhood friend. That’s not an easy thing to erase from her mind.”

Dimitri’s dark brows rose. “Let me guess. She loves the man marrying your sister?”

“How did you know that?” Wes gulped down a large portion of his wine.

“The lovely Hayden Thorne no longer single? That news raced across continents quicker than you can imagine. I heard it in Moscow twelve hours before the news was officially a

“Amazing how news like that spreads.” He glanced around the restaurant and then leaned closer to Dimitri. “What do you know of the black market for Goya paintings?”

“Goya?” Dimitri mused. “His sketches are the most popular items, smaller, easier to steal. Why do you ask?”

Wes pulled his phone out and showed a picture of the Goya forgery to his friend. “This is an unbelievable forgery of a piece I helped acquire for some friends on the island. They were robbed by a professional. I’m hoping to find it on the market and see it returned to the rightful owners.”

The Russian laughed softly. “And you want me to get in touch with old contacts?”

“If you wouldn’t mind.”

“Let me have a night with your woman and I will do whatever you wish.” There was a mischievous twinkle in his eyes.

“Anything but that.” Wes kept his tone light, but his words were steel.

“I expected as much. Very well. You will owe me and I’ll collect that favor when the time comes.”

“Thank you.”

If anyone could find something on the black market, Dimitri Razin could.

*  *  *

Callie left the bathroom and paused at the entryway back into the dining room. At the table she saw Wes lean over and show something to Dimitri on his phone. She couldn’t help but wonder what that was about.

Secrets. Wes must have many. She had so few. He, as did Dimitri, saw through her so easily. But she was learning to see the world the way Wes did. Being around him was eye-opening. And being near him physically was changing her, too. Now that she’d come to the decision that she would be with him, she was both nervous and excited.

She wasn’t going to think of Fe

And I’ve sworn off all men, so why am I letting him get too close to me? Because he’s irresistible…

Pulling herself out of her thoughts, she walked back to the table. The two men straightened and stood as she took her seat. The waiter returned with their meals before she could try to come up with some way to ask them what they were talking about while she’d been gone. They likely wouldn’t have told her. Dimitri was a man of secrets and a people reader. He was right about Wes, the way he viewed art. It was so obvious now, how he loved art because of its purity of expression. She sensed Wes preferred to avoid facing some of reality. Art was his escape. Callie was much the same.

After di

The sky, a blue like Wes’s eyes, made a vibrant rich backdrop behind the rising gold pyramid of glass and steel. A pool of water, black from the night, reflected the pyramid upside down. Beyond the pyramid, the Louvre’s pale stones turned gold from lamps lit along the walkway facing the structure. The sight was breathtaking. Centuries of history were here. Inside the walls were some of the most famous works done by true geniuses. Her throat tightened as a wave of longing and awe swept through her. She was about to enter the hallowed halls of true masters. She, who knew so little of technique and had no formal training, rather than be daunted by facing these masters, felt invigorated. Tears of joy stung her eyes.

“Callie, are you crying?” Wes moved in front of her, concern filling his gaze. The golden lights of the Louvre’s courtyard reflected in the dark pools of his eyes. “What’s the matter, darling?” he asked again. “We haven’t even gone inside yet.”

She brushed away a tear. “I know. I just can’t believe that I’m here.”

“I promised to give you this,” he reminded her. “There’s so much more I want to offer you.” He held out a hand, palm up. An invitation. A temptation. One she couldn’t resist. She placed her hand in his and they entered the pyramid by climbing down the stairs into the underground entrance of the Louvre. The hall of the pyramid, the coat check rooms, and information and ticket windows were all dim now. A man stood waiting for them. He was a lean, dark-haired man in his fifties, good-looking in that way Frenchmen were as they aged.

“That is Pierre Monde, head of the administrative offices,” Wes explained as they reached him.

“Bonsoir, Monsieur Monde.” Dimitri shook his hand and stepped back to allow Wes and Callie to meet him.

“This is Callie Taylor.” Wes nodded at the man as he greeted Callie. “I understand we’re here to view a Sargent. Could I show Ms. Taylor a few pieces from the collections before that?”

“Of course.” Pierre lifted up a radio and called for a security guard. A man in a security uniform appeared and walked over to them.

“Monsieur Mignon can take you to any gallery you would like to see.”

“Excellent.” Wes looked at Callie and then back at the guard. “How about the Egyptian antiquities?”

Callie gri

“Come on.” His eyes twinkled as he tugged her hand. The security guard was already moving down the hall.

“This is the crypt of the Sphinx,” Mignon a

Callie walked past him and then froze at the entry, delight and awe stilling her in place. A sphinx statue sat in the center of the room. Lion paws stretched out, a stoic, mysterious expression on its face. The pale stone eyes appeared almost milky in the soft light of the exhibit and Callie instantly thought of a blind seer, seeing the future but unable to see what was before it. Hieroglyphs were carved into its chest and along the shoulders.