“It's a very big house,” Coco pointed out. “For all we know she might have buried it in the roses.”
“If it existed in the first place,” Amanda murmured.
“It existed.” Lilah sent a nod toward C.C. “And I think Bianca's decided it's time to find it.”
When everyone began to talk at once, arguments and suggestions bouncing around the table, Trent raised a hand. “Ladies. Ladies,” he repeated, waiting for them to subside. “I realize that this is family business, but as I was invited to participate in this... experiment, I feel obligated to add a calming note. Legends are most often exaggerated and expanded over time. If there ever was a necklace, wouldn't it be more likely that Fergus sold it after the death of his wife?”
“He couldn't sell it,” Lilah pointed out, “if he couldn't find it.”
“Do any of you really think your great-grandfather buried treasure in the garden or hid it behind a loose stone?” One glance around the table told him that was precisely how they were thinking. Trent shook his head. “That kind of fairy tale's more suited for Alex and Jenny than for grown women.” He spread his hands. “You don't even know for certain if there was a necklace in the first place.”
“But I saw it,” C.C. said, though it made her feel foolish.
“You imagined it,” he corrected. “Think about it. A few minutes ago six rational adults were sitting around this table holding hands and calling up ghosts. All right as an odd sort of parlor game, but for anyone to actually believe in messages from the other-world...” He certainly wasn't going to add that for a moment, he'd felt something himself.
“There's something appealing about a cynical, practical-minded man.” Lilah rose to open one of the drawers of the buffet and unearthed a pad and pencil. After coming over to kneel by C.C.'s chair, she began to sketch. “I certainly respect your opinion, but the fact is not only did the necklace exist, I'm certain it still does.”
“Because of a nanny's bedtime stories?”
She smiled at him. “No, because of Bianca.” She slid the pad toward C.C. “Is that what you saw tonight?”
Lilah had always been a careless and clever artist. C.C. stared at the rough sketch of the necklace, two ornate and filigreed tiers studded with squarecut emeralds, sprinkled with diamond brilliants. From the bottom tier a large gem in the shape of a teardrop dripped.
“Yes.” C.C. traced a fingertip over it. “Yes, this is it.”
Trent studied the drawing. If indeed such a piece did exist, and Lilah's drawing was anywhere close to scale, it would undoubtedly be worth a fortune.
“Oh, my,” Coco murmured as the pad was passed to her. “Oh, my.”
“I think Trent has a point.”. Amanda gave the sketch a hard look before handing it to Suzanna. “We can hardly take the house apart stone by stone, even if we wanted to. Despite any sort of paranormal experience, the first order of business is to make certain—absolutely certain,” she added when
Lilah sighed, “that the necklace is a fact. Even eighty years ago, something like this had to cost an incredible amount of money. There has to be a record. If Lilah's famous vibes are wrong and it was sold again, there would be a record of that as well.”
“Spoken like a true stick-in-the-mud,” Lilah complained. “I guess this means we spend our Sunday pushing through a paper mountain.”
C.C. didn't even try to sleep. She wrapped herself in her flannel robe and, with the house creaking around her, left her room for Trent's. She could hear the murmur of the late news from Amanda's room. Then the hum of sitars from Lilah's. It didn't occur to her to feel awkward or to hesitate. She simply knocked on Trent's door and waited for him to answer.
When he did, with his shirt open and his eyes a little sleepy, she felt her first frisson of nerves.
“I need to talk to you.” She glanced toward the bed, then away. “Can I come in?”
How was a man to deal fairly when even flannel had become erotic? “Maybe it would be better if we waited until morning.”
“I'm not sure I can.”
The knots in his stomach tightened. “Okay. Sure.” The sooner he explained himself to her, the better. He hoped. Trent let her in and closed the door. “Do you want to sit down?”
“Too much nervous energy.” Hugging herself, she walked to the window. 'It stopped snowing. I'm glad. I know Suzanna was worried about some of her flowers. Spring's so unpredictable on the island.” She dragged a hand through her hair as she turned. “I'm making small talk, and I hate that.” A deep breath settled her. “Trent, I need to know what you think about tonight. Really think about it.”
“Tonight?” he said carefully.
“The séance.” She rubbed her hands over her face. “Lord, I feel like an imbecile even saying it, but, Trent, something happened.” Now she thrust those restless hands toward him, waiting for him to clasp them in his. “I'm very grounded, very literal minded. Lilah's the one who believes in all this stuff. But now...Trent, I need to know. Did you feel anything?”
“I don't know what you mean. I certainly felt foolish several times.”
“Please.” She gave his hands an impatient shake. “Be honest with me. It's important.”
Isn't that what he'd promised himself he would do? “All right, C.C. Tell me what you felt.”
“The air got very cold. Then it was as if something—someone—was standing behind us. Behind and between the two of us. It wasn't something that frightened me. I was surprised, but not afraid. We were holding hands, like this. And then...”
She was waiting for him to say it, to admit it. Those big green eyes demanded it. When he did so, it was with great reluctance. “It felt as though someone put a hand over ours.”
“Yes.” Eyes closed, she brought his hands to her curved lips. “Yes, exactly.”
“Shared hallucination,” he began, but she cut him off with a laugh.
“I don't want to hear that. No rational explanations.” She pressed his hand to her cheek. “I'm not a fanciful person, but I know it meant something, something important. I know. ”
“The necklace?”
“Only a part of it—and not this part. All the rest—the necklace, the legend, we'll figure it out sooner or later. I think we'll have to because it's meant. But this, this was like a blessing.”
“C.C.—”
“I love you.” Eyes dark and brilliant, she touched his cheek. “I love you, and nothing in my life has ever felt so right.”
He was speechless. Part of him wanted to step back, smile kindly and tell her she was letting the moment run away with her. Love didn't happen in a matter of days. If it happened at all, which was rare, it took years.
Another part, buried deep, wanted to hold her close so that the moment would never end.
“Catherine—”
But she was already moving into his arms. They seemed to be waiting for her. As if he had no control over them, they wrapped around her. The warmth, her warmth, seeped into him like a drug.
“I think I knew the first time you kissed me.” She pressed her cheek to his. “I didn't want it, didn't ask for it, but it's never been like that for me before. I don't think I ever expected it to be. The,re you were, so suddenly, so completely in my life. Kiss me again, Trent. Kiss me now.”
He was helpless to do otherwise. His lips were already burning for hers. When they met, the fire only sparked hotter. She was molten in his arms, sending white licks of flame shooting through his system. When he couldn't prevent his demand from increasing, she didn't hesitate, but strained against him, offering everything.
She slid her hands under his shirt, delighted to feel his quick, involuntary tremor. His muscles bunched under her fingers with the kind of strength she wanted, needed.