“If you try to steal anything from Xavier Franklin tonight,” she said slowly and evenly, “there will be consequences. I don’t know how you managed to get your hands on an invitation, but the security for this party is very tight. PARA didn’t press charges when you stole from them, but Xavier would.”
Now that was a low blow. What happened six months ago was still constantly on his mind. He didn’t need the reminder.
Ryan’s mood darkened as if a storm cloud had drifted overhead. “No, PARA didn’t press charges. After all, who’s going to believe a self-proclaimed supernatural investigation agency that says they’re missing a stash of enchanted tea cups or grandfather clocks? I know the board of directors likes to keep PARA business private.”
“All I’m saying—”
“I get it, Emma. Stealing is wrong.”
Her fierce expression faltered. “I don’t know why I’m even talking to you. I washed my hands of you a long time ago.”
“I remember.” Her words made something sharp and painful twist in his chest. He’d valued their friendship more than she ever knew. Enough that he’d started casually dating another woman, Charlotte, when he began developing deeper feelings for Emma. It had made sense at the time. His relationships—they didn’t last long. They never had. And if he’d had a fling with Emma, it would have ended the friendship he valued so much. A friendship that ended anyway. Maybe it had never been as strong as he would have liked to believe.
He pushed the grin back onto his face, though it felt as false as it probably looked. “Don’t worry about me, Em. I have things under control. Enjoy the party.”
Ryan turned to walk up the stairs to the terrace. He was now in desperate need of some fresh air. Emma thought he was a thief who’d manipulated her and shamelessly lied to her. That he was the sort of man who would steal potentially dangerous items and sell them for profit. Your average enchanted tea cup went for a whole lot of green on the black market and there were literally hundreds of eager buyers worldwide who had vast collections of supernatural paraphernalia hidden away in their mansions. It was a booming business.
But there was a big problem with Emma’s theory. Despite what she believed, he’d never stolen anything from PARA’s vaults.
Never.
The evidence, however, proved otherwise and had gotten him swiftly fired without a chance to properly plead his case. Since he was an empath—even a low-end one—there was no way to gauge if he was telling the truth when he’d denied the charges.
Ryan knew he’d been set up. And his life and career had been ruined because of it.
That was why he’d come here tonight. He’d crashed Xavier Franklin’s ritzy masquerade party because he suspected the billionaire was one of those supernatural collectors. If he could find hard evidence of that fact, he might discover who’d been providing Franklin, and others like him, with merchandise.
Ryan was all ready to start his new life down in Florida at a job he knew he was going to love. But first, something deep inside of him was driving him to clear his name. Otherwise this stain on his character would never let him rest. He didn’t want distractions or regrets to haunt him as he embarked on his future.
And yes, he wanted to prove to Emma Black, once and for all, that he wasn’t a thief. That he wasn’t a liar. He wanted to see that trust in her eyes again one last time before he walked away and never looked back. He wanted her to feel sorry that she ever doubted him in the first place.
She’d been totally wrong about him and he’d prove it.
However, based on their latest little confrontation, he knew that was going to be one hell of an uphill battle.
2
AN HOUR LATER, Emma sat on the stiff, black leather couch in the library where she’d been told to wait for Xavier and tried not to think about what happened with Ryan.
She tried. She wasn’t all that successful.
One brief conversation and he was suddenly all she could think about. Maybe she should seek him out again and get more answers from him. Or maybe she should keep trying to forget she ever saw him in the first place.
Finally, Xavier entered the room. “There you are, my dear.”
She stood up. Her purse and tote bag full of books leaned against the leg of the couch to her left. “Here I am. Do you have it?”
“I certainly do.”
He held a small green glass bottle. It was about the size of an antique perfume bottle with a glass stopper.
“It’s beautiful,” she said.
“I acquired it in London a few months ago.” He looked at it sourly. “I’m disappointed in it.”
It was half filled with liquid. “What sort of potion is it supposed to be?”
“It is called Desidero.” He peered at it through the opening in his mask. “It’s supposed to be a mood enhancer, but it doesn’t seem to work at all. I’ve tested it several times to no avail, which leads me to believe I was either duped when I bought it or its properties are no longer viable. I spent a great deal of money on this and if PARA determines that it is not what it is meant to be, then those who sold it to me will be held accountable. At the very least, I’ll expect my money back.”
“Is it dangerous?”
“Not at all. Like I said, it doesn’t work. It’s no more dangerous than water.”
Emma took the bottle from him and inspected it, turning it around in her hand. The stopper didn’t look particularly snug. She’d brought a sealed case to keep it in for the trip back so no contents would spill. “We’re happy to assess it for you and let you know what we find. It’ll probably take about a week before someone gives you the report. Anyway, it was very nice to meet you, Xavier.”
She was about to move past him to grab her bags when he blocked her path. “Leaving so soon?” he asked.
“I appreciate you letting me attend the party, but I think it’s time I headed home. My bus leaves at eleven and it’s already ten o’clock.”
“I understand,” he said, nodding. “But if you’re tired, I have plenty of room here at my mansion. I could have a bed made up for you.”
“That’s really not necessary.”
He drew closer to her. “I’d love the chance to get to know you better.”
Emma stiffened as she felt his bony hand press against her. “Are you aware that you’re now cupping my right breast?”
He smiled. “Such a lovely right breast it is. The left one is equally alluring.”
Oh, boy. “I need to go now.”
“I’m a very rich man, Emma. And I enjoy collecting beautiful things. I have three mistresses set up in Manhattan, two in Toronto, and one in London. Have you ever given any thought to letting someone take care of you so you can live a life of leisure rather than having to pursue a full-time career to support yourself?”
She eyed him. “Are you asking me to be one of your mistresses?”
He swept his gaze over her, stopping at her cleavage. “I don’t have a redhead in my collection yet.”
She couldn’t say she was overly surprised by this turn of events. Xavier Franklin’s reputation for chasing much younger women by the baker’s dozen did precede him, after all. She was surprised he only had six mistresses.
“Look, Xavier, I’m flattered, of course, but I wouldn’t say I’m in the market for—”
He aimed a kiss toward her mouth, but