we serve in Engagements.”
“So you have absolutely no interest in the woman, yet she’s in your office snacking on bridal food.”
Before Dalton could comment, there was a soft knock on the door.
The brothers exchanged a loaded glance, and Dalton swiftly covered the jeweled egg with the lid to its tasteful indigo box.
Once the treasure was safely ensconced in velvet, Artem said, “Come in.”
The door opened, revealing Dalton’s secretary balancing a plate of petit fours in one hand and a glass of champagne in the other, wearing a distinct look of alarm. “I’m sorry to interrupt...”
Dalton’s gut churned. Something wasn’t right. But what could have gone wrong in the span of a few minutes? “Yes, Mrs. Barnes?”
“Your guest is gone, Mr. Drake.”
Surely she was mistaken. Aurélie wouldn’t just take off and leave the eggs behind. She wouldn’t think about walking around a strange city all alone, without her security detail.
Or would she?
Dalton swore under his breath. Why did he get the feeling that Aurélie would do both of those things without bothering to consider the possible disastrous consequences of her actions?
Live a little, Mr. Drake.
“Shall I take a look in the ladies’ room?” Mrs. Barnes asked.
Dalton shook his head. If he thought for one second that Aurélie Marchand could be found in the ladies’ room of Drake Diamonds, he’d march in there and go get her himself. “No, thank you. I’ll see to her whereabouts. That will be all, Mrs. Barnes.”
“Yes, sir.” She nodded and disappeared in the direction of Dalton’s office.
“Calm down, brother. I’m sure she hasn’t gone far. She’s not going to just disappear and leave the Marchand family jewels behind.” Artem waved a casual hand at the velvet box in the center of the table.
Dalton sighed. “Have you forgotten that she’s in a strange city? In a foreign country. All alone.”
“Exactly. She’s hasn’t ventured any further than the Plaza. Come on, I’ll help you track her down.” Artem reached for the suit jacket on the back of his chair.
“No,” Dalton said through gritted teeth. He pointed at the velvet box. “You stay, and see to it that the eggs are safely locked away in the vault. I’ll find Miss Marchand.”
And when he did, he’d lay down some ground rules for their arrangement. After he’d made it clear that he considered her behavior wholly unacceptable. Princess or not.
“As you wish,” Artem said. “But can I give you one piece of advice?”
Dalton glared at him. “Do I have a choice?”
“Whatever you do, don’t take her to bed.” Artem’s mouth curved into a knowing grin. “Assuming you find her, of course.”
* * *
Who did Dalton Drake think he was?
She hadn’t traveled halfway across the world, and risked the wrath of her father, only to stay trapped in a closed room on the tenth floor of Drake Diamonds. Not that the surroundings weren’t opulent. On the contrary, the place was steeped in elegant luxury, from the pale blue plush carpet to the tasteful crown molding. It felt more like being in a palace than a jewelry store.
Which was precisely the problem.
She didn’t want to be stuck inside this grand institution. It wasn’t what she’d signed on for. Did he not realize the risks she’d taken to get here? She already had three missed call notifications on her cell from Delamotte. None from her father, thank goodness. It would take him days, if not weeks, to realize she was gone. The Reigning Prince had more important things to worry about than something as trivial as his only daughter fleeing the country. Oh, the irony.
But the palace staff was another story. They watched her every move and minced no words when it came to their opinions on her behavior. Or her fashion sense. Or her hair.
Or her love life. They had plenty to say about that.
How on earth was she going to pull this off? What if her father came looking for her?
She sighed. She wasn’t going to think about that now. Besides, she was lost in the maze of pale blue and the sparkle of the diamond store. How would she find her way around New York when she couldn’t even manage to navigate the terrain of Drake Diamonds?
Every room looked the same. Row upon row of diamonds sparkled beneath gleaming glass. Chandelier earrings. Long platinum chains with dazzling pendants shaped like antique keys. Shiny silver bracelets with heart-shaped charms.
Engagement rings.
Aurélie looked around and realized she was surrounded by couples embracing, holding hands and clinking champagne flutes together while they gazed into one another’s eyes. Everywhere she turned, teary-eyed brides-to-be were slipping diamond solitaires on their fingers.
She felt oddly hollow all of a sudden. Numb. Empty.
Alone.
For some silly reason she remembered the feel of Dalton’s palm sliding against her own when they’d shaken on their deal. He had strong hands. The hands of a man accustomed to getting what he wanted. What he wanted right now was her secret egg, of course. She’d given it to him on a silver platter.
And now he was gone.
Her cell phone vibrated in her pocket. Again. Aurélie switched it off and removed the SIM card without bothering to look at the display. Without a SIM card, the GPS tracking on her iPhone wouldn’t work. At least she thought she remembered reading that somewhere.
She really should have had a better escape plan. Or at least a plan.
Her gaze snagged on a silver sign hanging on the wall with discreet black lettering. Will you? Welcome to the Drake Diamond Engagement Collection.
She rolled her eyes, marched straight to the elevator and jabbed at the down button with far too much force.
But as she waited, something made her turn and look again, some perverse urge to torture herself. Maybe she needed a reminder of why she’d fled Delamotte. Maybe she wanted to test herself to see if she could stand there in the midst of so much romantic bliss without breaking down. Maybe she’d simply left the vestiges of dignity back in her home country.
She stared at the happy couples, unabashed in their affection, and felt as though she were disappearing. Fading into the tasteful cream-colored wallpaper.
None of this is real, she told herself. She didn’t believe any of it for a minute.
She wanted to, though. Oh how she wanted to. She wanted to believe that happy endings were real, that love could last, that marriage was something more than just another transaction. A business deal.
A bargain.
