A few hours later, so engrossed was she in the words she was trying to write on the screen that when someone knocked at her door, Lacey about jumped out of her skin. She whacked her knee on the underside of her desk, causing her to growl an unimaginative curse, as her mother would call it.
One of the Center interns poked his head in.
"Yes?" she said, smiling as she massaged her knee.
"Sorry, Lacey. Your appointment's here early."
The dealer, here with the artifact he'd emailed her about. “Send him in,” she said, getting out of her chair just as he walked into her office.
"Lacey! So good to see you again," he said, stepping forward with a smile and his outstretched hand. “It's been, what? Since you were up in the Bay Area at that history conference over the winter, right?" Mark, whose antiquities shop was in Oakland, liked to keep up with all the latest goings-on in the state's historical world.
Lacey smiled at him. "Hi, Mark," she said, shaking his hand. Mark Edwards was a well-known dealer in the field with whom Lacey had always enjoyed working. "I can't believe it's been that long. What do you have for me?"
Mark smiled as he slung a large brown leather satchel from his shoulder and settled it on the little side table close to the door. In his fifties or thereabouts, he'd always kind of reminded Lacey of her dad, if her father had ever been remotely interested in history.
“First, I have something for you from the collector." Mark said. "A gift. Specifically for you, he instructed."
That startled Lacey. "For me? I don't even know him."
Mark shrugged as he rustled around inside his satchel for second before pulling out a small, black cloth bag. Glancing at Lacey's desk, he chuckled. Lacey followed his gaze and also laughed. Varying little cloth bags of different sizes and colors were scattered about the desk. Well, she worked and practically lived in the museum, and she was a curator. People sent her objects all the time.
None, of course, like the beautiful cross that Sebastian had given her.
"He's actually followed your career ever since you came to the center," Mark said. "You know how a lot of these collectors are. They don't want the general public to know about them."
Lacey nodded, resigned to the realities of her field.
"You mean he sometimes buys things of questionable provenance," she said in a flat tone.
Mark shrugged. "I don't ask where everything comes from when my clients tell me about them. Although you know perfectly well," his tone sharpened a slight bit, "that I only deal on the up and up."
Lacey nodded. Mark Edwards was highly respected in the field, based on a spotless career spanning thirty years. He was thoroughly vetted. No object that he ever dealt in, whether to sell or to buy, would be sourced off the black market. However, not all of his clients believed in the same thing. He didn't care about their personal ethics, as long as nothing that was illegal came into his possession.
"Anyway,” Mark continued, “he told me he's appreciated you sharing details about the Californio era with me, which I then passed on to him, during this past year. It's helped him to make some good decisions for some purchases. At any rate, he said he came across this piece and immediately thought of you. Now, Lacey," and Mark looked at her carefully. "It is genuine. I've examined the papers myself. I'm certain the provenance is authentic and totally legal. However, I can't trace the chain all the way back. That's why he wants you to have it as a gift. There's no money exchanging hands in this transaction."
"I see." Lacey paused for a long moment. Mark was trying to tell her, without stating it in bald terms, that he couldn't be certain that the piece had not at some point in its life been traded under murkier circumstances.
Her curiosity was too much, however. Twisting her lips just slightly, she held out her hand. Gently, Mark handed over the little bag. Lacey upended it to gently shake out a small gold hairpin.
A miniature dazzle of gold and jewels glittered at her, almost seeming to pulse in her hand with its bright energy. "Oh, it's gorgeous!" Lacey lifted her hand closer to her face so she could carefully inspect the object. It was small, shaped like some sort of mythical creature that seemed to be half-chimera, half-dragon, encrusted with faceted emeralds and rubies. A tiny figure rode it, defiantly waving a spear overhead. Two little bumps on the chest indicated the figure was female.
“It's definitely of Spanish origin,” she said, utterly enraptured by the artisan work of the piece. She admired it from all angles, carefully turning it over in her hands. Her scholarly training took over as she examined it. “Late sixteenth century.” She looked up at Mark. “Did he tell you anything more about it?”
“He said he didn't know much about it himself.” Mark shrugged again. “He just said something about it being a beautiful piece for a beautiful woman.” Although the words were teasing, Mark's tone was a bit wary.
Lacey cast him a curious glance. “You don't sound as if I should take that as a compliment.”
Looking slightly uncomfortable, Mark said, “Look. He's been a good client. Always pays me well to find him what he wants, doesn't give me trouble, and never passes objects of dubious origin my way. Well,” he sighed, looking at the hairpin, “at least not of immediately dubious origin. He's just got a bit of a, mm, a sort of threatening air about him.” Mark flapped his hand, curling up a lip in slight distaste. “He's just not the type for someone as nice as you, Lacey.”
Mark beamed at Lacey, reminding her yet again of a doting father figure. Laughing, she said, “Well, then, I guess it's a good thing I don't know his name.”
Rolling the beautiful little hairpin in her fingers, once again feeling an almost tangible sense of connection to it, she gently placed it back in its little bag and turned to Mark again.
“Now, let's take a look at the piece you want me to authenticate,” she said with a smile. Mark nodded as he turned back to his satchel, already starting in about the item's history.
Hopefully, this would provide hours of focused work. Hopefully, it would distract her from the coming evening spent once again in Sebastian's presence. The dark, tingling, ridiculously arousing presence of a man who was driving her insane.
Right.
Doing his damnedest to focus on the conversation with the groom's father and new father-in-law, Sebastian nodded and chuckled at appropriate intervals. They were both important, generous friends of the Bernal Center, as well as men he had socialized with at various events for years now. As such, he owed them the courtesy of his attention.
But Lacey's glorious, delighted laughter kept catching his attuned ear instead, blowing his concentration. Between her laughter, her enticing scent, and the frisson of smoldering attraction between them, all his senses were wire tight.
Finally, after a last round of sincere congratulations and once more thanking them for their continued devotion to the museum, Sebastian gracefully excused himself with the excuse that he needed to circulate and be sure that everything was running smoothly. He barely registered their enthusiastic thanks for the private use of the venue as he turned to locate the burning, vexing focus of his unquenchable desire.
His dragon was going to be the death of him where this woman was concerned. The wild, ceaseless insistence that he get close to her, bury himself in her, taste all her succulent treasures and keep them to himself, was driving him half insane.
Just tonight,
he silently swore his head.
One night to truly scratch this itch, get it out of my system, and move on.
Nodding and smiling as he easily sidestepped small clusters of excited, happy wedding goers, Sebastian maneuvered his way across the marble floors of the great rotunda, heading with unerring accuracy to the sound of Lacey's low, sweet voice. Her exquisite scent pulled him along as it teased at him, urging him forward as if she tugged him toward her with a heated, sensuous leash.
There. His dragon rumbled with possessive pride. Lacey, his private obsession despite his own avowed wariness of all things female. The sexy yet classy dress she wore for the festivities hugged her curves in silky panels of pale pink rose and soft, burnished copper. A stylish silk bolero jacket just clung to her arms and shoulders, emphasizing the beautiful tapering down to her waist where the form-fitting dress accentuated the luscious hips he'd been longing to get ahold of.
Sebastian felt his cock stir as he headed her way, the fire of his dragon inside blazing with an inexorable arousal. Yet this also felt different than mere physical ardor needing to be assuaged by whatever willing, un-clingy woman he could find. The swell of Lacey's breasts that he could see as she half turned and gestured to the display hanging from the ceiling of the rotunda snared him with their soft, enticing invitation to stroke and hold and lick and nibble.
Yes. The unbearably gorgeous woman would be the death of him. Unless he could get her alone in the next two minutes.
Sebastian easily covered the last few steps to reach her side. The guests she spoke to noted his arrival, some smiling in flattering greeting while others looked simply awed that he approached them. Whether in dragon form or human, Sebastian Bernal always garnered tremendous respect.
Alerted by the glances in his direction, Lacey cut herself off mid-sentence and swung around to look at him. The immediate light flush that heated her cheeks told him she, too, felt the attraction between them. “Mr. Bernal,” she said, smiling that professional smile despite the pink in her face. “I was just explaining the history of how the museum acquired several of the pieces here in the rotunda.”
Was it just him, or did she sound a shade close to breathless? Sebastian's dragon rumbled in satisfaction. He liked it.
"I trust you all are enjoying the evening. We're delighted to be able to host the wedding of the decade." Sebastian made sure his smile included everyone there, even though every piece of his being was attuned so closely to Lacey for a split-second he literally wondered if he was leaning toward her.
"Oh, it's such an amazing setting for the ceremony, Mr. Bernal," one of the women in the group said, brazenly practicing what she apparently thought was her most seductive smile on him. "It was incredibly generous of you to allow the Harringtons to hold it here."
The woman literally lowered her head so she could look up at Sebastian from beneath her eyelashes. It made her look drunk and idiotic. Sharply curbing the desire to tell her to find some other rich fool to hook her avaricious claws into, he awarded her his best gallant smile and thanked her for attending. The woman's cooing gush of appreciation nearly made him lose his patience. Masking his irritation, he turned to Lacey.
The unmistakable heated flare of Lacey's interest tickled at him. His dragon pushed at him to claim her and drag her off to his lair. Forcefully shoving down his baser instincts, Sebastian merely said, "Please, everyone, keep enjoying the center. The bar is open, and the docents are present for more private tours and to answer any questions anyone may have. I hope you enjoy the rest of the evening. Now, Ms. Whitman," he said, turning decisively to Lacey. "The bride and groom have a few specific questions about your area of expertise. I need to steal you away. The rest of you will have to excuse us." He smiled, executing a gentlemanly bow to the group. The woman who wanted more of his attention glared daggers at Lacey as Sebastian turned his back on them, putting his hand on the small of Lacey's back to guide her away.
And that sort of response was why this encounter with Lacey would be only for one night. Women were like that. He didn't need the drama. His dragon angrily muttered at him that Lacey was nothing like the others. Since his dragon side had been the one to get him into trouble before, Sebastian ignored it. Lacey was female. Enough said. This was a one-time thing. It was merely to thoroughly satisfy the promise of the tempestuous, steamy kiss they'd shared the other night before being interrupted.
He fully intended that this time, he and Lacey would enjoy one another's bodies with no disturbances. Besides which, if his desire was thwarted once again, he was likely to blast the museum with a frustrated, red-hot breath that would literally burn it down.
He doubted the board would in any way appreciate that.
As he whisked them both away, Lacey's rich voice teased his senses as she said in a skeptical tone, still a little breathier than usual, "I saw the bride and groom not ten minutes ago hiding behind the statue of Ixchel. They were making out like they were teenagers instead of a newly married couple.” She shot a sidelong glance at him as he maneuvered them toward the hallway to the administrative offices. “I highly doubt they want a private tour right now. A private room seems more like it."
The gorgeous laughter that flipped him inside out rippled beneath her words. Her hip bumped against his as she gently sidestepped another small group of people. From the swiftness with which she moved away from him after that happened, not to mention the tantalizing spike in her sweet arousal that he could smell, told him she was putting on an act for everyone as well.
"No, they don't," he admitted without shame as he steered her away from the rotunda to the corridor that led to his office, nodding at the security guard who blocked anyone from attempting to explore into that part of the center as they swept past. "But I certainly need a private room with you."
She half halted, causing his hand on her back to slide closer to her waist as the momentum carried him past her for a step or two. He looked down at her as she came to a complete stop, allowing the full scope of his interest to show on his face as he gently stroked his fingers just above the front of her hip bone. Lacey inhaled sharply at that, her gorgeous indigo eyes widening as she looked at him. Her masses of blonde hair, caught up in some fancy hairdo, just begged to be let down to flow around her shoulders.
Sebastian tried to bite back a groan at the thought, but she must have caught it. She swallowed hard, her pulse leaping beneath the soft skin of her neck in a way that made him want to lick her there.