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I had never driven myself this long or this far. The weather, which looked at first as if it would bring rain, turned calm and partly cloudy as I went farther north. I was too nervous about what we were doing to worry about my driving, anyway. Following the directions Kiera had sent and using my GPS in the car brought me to the motel four hours later, which was very good driving time. Donald was right about the traffic. Leaving early made it possible. I called Kiera when I was close, and she was out in the motel parking area waiting for me when I pulled up.

Even when I hated the very sight of Kiera March, I had to admit to myself that she was beautiful. Almost as tall as Ryder’s mother, with Jordan’s light brown hair and azure eyes, high cheekbones, and full, feminine lips, she was stunning, and, of course, she knew it. When I had first come to the March residence and saw how attractive Kiera was, I wondered why. Shouldn’t someone with an evil and selfish nature be uglier? Shouldn’t the dark and ugly things such a person has within her show themselves, break out like pimples or grotesque birthmarks? She certainly shouldn’t have the healthiest-looking hair and the richest-looking complexion.

That familiar line about beauty being only skin deep came to mind, but no matter how you tried to diminish the value and impact of physical beauty, it still won out. Men always treated attractive women better. Beauty inspired awe. A smile from Kiera March was more appreciated than a smile from someone as pure as a nun but who was average or homely. It was far easier for Kiera to get someone to do her bidding than it was for someone who could show logical reasons for it.

There she stood waiting for me and looking as radiant as ever with her hair obviously recently styled and her makeup perfect. She wore an expensive pair of designer jeans, high heels, and a turquoise light sweater that with her figure was as good as a spotlight. I saw the way men driving in or out or just walking turned their heads to look at her. She waved to me and pointed at a parking space. I pulled in, shut off the engine, and got out.

“You did well,” she said, hugging me.

“Your father was right about how to avoid the heavy traffic.”

“My father is always right about those sorts of things. How far behind you is Ryder Garfield? Did you leave about the same time?”

“No. He wasn’t going to leave until after lunch, but he should be here soon,” I said.

“You look great,” she said, holding me at arm’s length the way some infrequently seen relative might. “Being in love brings out the beauty in you like sunshine brings out the color of a rose. That was a direct quote from Richard, something he told me just recently,” she said, and brushed back her hair. She smiled at a passing driver who beeped his horn. A second did the same. “We’re attracting so much attention we could cause an accident in the parking lot and get sued for being too beautiful.”

“I didn’t say I was in love,” I told her. I wouldn’t deny to myself that I was falling in love. I just didn’t want her to be the first one who knew it.

“You are. You can’t fool me.”

“I thought you weren’t sure what love was,” I reminded her. She pulled the corners of her mouth in and shook her head.

“You always remember everything I say and throw it back at me,” she complained, and then smiled. “Grab your bag. We have a little suite on the second floor. C’mon. I want to hear everything before he gets here. I have some fun plans for us. I know a dance club nearby, the better restaurants, everything. Of course,” she said with a licentious smile, “I’ll give you two plenty of time alone.”

I took my bag out of the car and followed her to the stairway that led up to our room. It was a junior suite with a small sitting room that had two chairs, a table, and a sofa bed. There was a television there and in the bedroom, which had two queen-size beds. I saw she had a bottle of vodka in the sitting room on the coffee table.

“I wasn’t sure what Ryder would like to drink, so I bought that. There’s orange juice in the minibar.”

“I don’t know what he drinks or even if he does.”

“Really? You two sound like real goody-goodies. I can’t believe someone like Ryder Garfield with parents like his hasn’t done lots of things.”

She flopped onto the bed and threw herself back.

“Isn’t this great? Away from all the gawking eyes and stuffy adults like my parents.” She turned over to lean on her elbow. “My father’s turned into a real stick-in-the-mud, huh?”

“He’s just . . . very worried,” I said.

“So worried he wants to invade your private life?”

“I guess he’s just trying to be a good foster father.”

“Good foster father? He’s taking you to concerts, ordering a new dress be bought. I’d say he’s going beyond the call of duty. What else has he done for you lately?”

Was this the time to mention the necklace?

“He was excited when he found out that I could be the class valedictorian.”

“How did he do that? Don’t tell me he’s going to parent-teacher conferences. He was never around to do much of that for me.”

“No, he bumped into Dr. Steiner.”

“Really. How is old Dr. Steiner? Talk about a stick-in-the-mud. She has a stick up you know where.”

“She’s been nice to me,” I said.

“I guess so, if she’s bragging about you.”