Lizzie shook her head. "Actually, I have a horrid headache and I must lie down." Not looking at Annabel, she lifted her skirts and hurried toward the hotel entrance. Both sisters watched her go.
"What is wrong with her?" Melissa turned wide eyes upon Annabel. "She is so upset. What have you said, or, what have you done now?"
Annabel smiled and said calmly, "We had a very private conversation, and I think I shall go to my rooms now, too."
Melissa did not reply, but this time, from the look in her eyes, Annabel had the awful feeling that she knew everything.
From across the dining room, Braxton smiled at her.
Annabel's nerves had been on edge ever since she had come down to supper, both wishing that he would be there, and wishing that he would not be so foolish. Now her heart went wild. She looked away, feeling her cheeks burning. Then, from the corner of her eye, she saw that Lizzie had noticed the entire intimate exchange.
Annabel quickly looked at Melissa. But if she had noticed, she gave no sign. She was enjoying her prime rib.
Annabel swallowed, the hair on her arms still raised, and cautiously looked his way. He dined with the countess, what nerve! Did he intend to rob her this evening?
And would he make love to her in order to do so?
Annabel thought about their conversation on the beach that morning. It was unforgettable, like the man himself. But she would be an idiot to believe anything that he had said about his feelings for her.
"You have no appetite, Annabel. In fact, you seem upset," Melissa remarked, laying down her knife and fork, having finished most of her course.
Annabel's food was untouched. "I'm afraid I spoiled my appetite this afternoon with a box of chocolates," Annabel lied, her gaze straying of its own volition toward Braxton again.
The countess leaned against him, regaling him with some tale or another. Her blond escort, Sir Linville, was openly annoyed. Braxton appeared completely at ease- and seemed to be thoroughly enjoying himself.
Melissa turned and stared at the Rossini party. "How fascinated you are by the countess," she said. "Or is it that handsome Englishman she seems so enamored of?"
Annabel could hardly breathe. "A rich Italian widow hardly fascinates me." She forced herself to eat.
"I am fascinated by the countess," Lizzie interjected a bit too quickly. "Imagine being that beautiful, and having so many men falling all over themselves for your attention!" She shot Annabel a warning look. Her cheeks were highly flushed.
"You are that beautiful, and your hardly need more than one man falling all over himself for your attention," Adam said. "And that man is myself."
Lizzie smiled at her husband. He smiled back at her. Annabel watched them, wondering what it would be like to be so cherished by a wonderful man-and to cherish him in return. She did not dare look at Braxton again. But she had to face her innermost feelings. She wanted Braxton to be that enamored of her, the way Adam was of Lizzie, so much so that he would hardly glance at another woman.
She reminded herself that he was going to burglarize the countess, and then he would be on his way. If he was not caught, that is.
And if he did escape, then she would never see him again.
And suddenly Annabel felt as if she were on the vast precipice of life. The future loomed before her, a huge and dark void. Alone, she thought. She would forever be alone.
Unless she took her destiny into her own hands.
She lurked in the shadows at the end of the hall. It was close to two in the morning, and the last of the hotel's festive-minded guests had gone to bed-except for the countess and Braxton.
Annabel had been hiding on the hotel's top floor for over two hours, waiting for them to retire. She heard the elevator whirring and stiffened, crouching down low. She was rewarded when the elevator's brass door opened and Braxton escorted the countess out. She was exquisite in a red lace evening gown, but she was also tipsy, and clinging firmly to his arm.
Annabel bit her lip hard, tears stinging her eyes, thinking how easy it would be for him to seduce her now, let her fall asleep, and make off with her jewels. Her heart hurt.
The countess was laughing huskily at something he had said. She could not seem to find her keys in her beaded purse, and she swayed a bit on her black satin high-heeled shoes.
"Allow me," he said with a smile. In a moment he had found her keys and opened the door to her suite.
She smiled at him, poised to enter her apartments.
"Good night, Guilia," he said.
Annabel's eyes widened in shock.
"Pierce? Surely you wish to come in?" The countess was as surprised as Annabel.
He smiled again and tilted up her chin. "My darling lady, I have no wish to be dangled upon your strings like the other men you collect."
Her eyes widened, and then she smiled, rubbing his chest beneath his black dinner jacket. "Do I dangle men?" she purred.
"You do."
"Perhaps it would be so very enjoyable for both of us," she whispered, staring up at him.
"I imagine so, but in truth, Linville is smitten with you, Guilia, and you would be foolish to throw such a gentleman away. His intentions, I believe, are honorable. Unlike mine," he added wryly.
She stared. "You amaze me."
He laughed, kissed her lips lightly. "Good night."
"Good night, Pierce," she said.
Annabel continued to watch them, no longer shocked but elated. The countess disappeared behind her closed door. Pierce turned and sauntered down the hall, back
toward the elevator. He seemed to be in exceedingly good spirits.
As was Annabel. She grinned to herself, and a chuckle escaped her.
Pierce froze in mid-stride.
Annabel shrank back against the wall.
He turned. And he saw her immediately.
His expression was comical. His eyes went wide.
There was no point in hiding anymore, so Annabel straightened, her heart pounding like a damnable drum. Her color, she knew, was high. He strode forward. "Well, well," he said, his gaze taking in her appearance. "So you have gained employment in the hotel as a housemaid?"
Annabel thought she blushed again. She was wearing a black dress with a white apron, borrowed from the laundry room. "This is a disguise."
He folded his arms and chuckled.
"How are you going to rob her if you do not sleep with her?" Annabel asked very directly.
His smile vanished. "That idea is highly repugnant. How little you think of me."
"But you have to get inside her apartments, and she has locked the door."
He smiled at her.
"Oh." Annabel smiled back, suddenly feeling quite happy. "A locked door hardly interferes, I do see."
"Perhaps what I want is not in her suite," Pierce said softly. He stared directly at her, his smile gone.
Annabel understood. She did not move.
Pierce suddenly shook his head, as if catching himself in an unplanned act. "Go back to your rooms, Annabel. And back to bed. I have work to do."
Now she started. "So it is tonight." Which explained his good mood, she thought.
"Yes." He stared.
"Let me help."
"That is out of the question." "Why?"
"You will cause me to bungle the job."
"That is not fair," Annabel said angrily.. "But it is true. You would only distract me. And I have a partner."
Annabel did not know what to say. So she spoke the truth. "I will never see you again after tonight."
He hesitated. "It would be unlikely."
She crossed her arms, hugging herself.
For a long moment, he did not speak. "You are wearing your heart upon your sleeve-for me to see."