Page 34

THIRTY-FOUR

Enticement

Paul

I guide Vivianne up the curving stairs, feeling, if not relieved, at least a little more confident she won’t be running to the authorities the first chance she gets. The tension in the air is palpable as we emerge from the cave. Merlin’s disapproving gaze follows us, and Vivianne stiffens beside me.

“Yes, Anthony?” I address Merlin, noting how formal my voice sounds.

“Sir,” Merlin begins, his face a mask of stoic indifference, “dinner will be served shortly. Might I recommend drinks in the parlor?”

“Of course.” I turn to Vivianne, our eyes meeting briefly before we both look away. “Please allow me to escort you to your room. After you’ve refreshed yourself, meet me in the parlor for drinks.”

She inclines her head, her voice overly polite. “Thank you, that would be nice.”

As we walk down the hall, I can’t help but notice how we’re both overcompensating, our words too formal, our gestures too restrained. It’s almost comical, this dance we’re doing for Merlin’s benefit.

I open the door to her room. “Shall I expect you in a few minutes?”

“It won’t take me long,” she says with a smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “It’s not like I have anything to change into.”

“About that,” I say, aware of how stilted our conversation has become. “I’ve retrieved your things from your hotel, but they’ve been delayed until the roads can be cleared.”

“Cleared?” Her brow furrows in confusion.

“Yes, there was a late winter storm last night. We made it through before they closed the roads. I have a courier bringing your things and expect them late tonight.”

“Paul,” she says, placing a hand on my forearm, the first genuine gesture since we left the cave, “I didn’t see my purse or my phone in my room. My father expects me to check in with him while over here. He will be upset that I haven’t.”

“Ah, yes.” I pause, choosing my words carefully. “It was left at the club.”

Her eyes widen. “Oh.”

“Do not worry, ma chère , I sent the courier to retrieve it with the rest of your things. I apologize, but I wasn’t thinking about your personal effects. My mind was set on seeing to your safety.”

“Thank you, but do you think I could speak with my father?”

“There is a phone in the parlor. This is an older house and cell reception is poor. We rely on old-fashioned landlines. Will I see you downstairs?”

“Yes,” she says. “Just give me a moment, and I’ll be down.”

Before Vivianne can retreat into her room, I make a split-second decision. I’m done pretending, done letting Merlin dictate my actions. With a swift movement, I wrap an arm around Vivianne’s waist and dip her backward.

Her eyes widen in surprise, but there’s a flicker of excitement there too. I capture her lips with mine, pouring all the pent-up passion into the kiss. It’s deep, it’s intense, and it’s everything we’ve been holding back.

Vivianne responds after a moment of shock, her hand coming up to caress my cheek. The kiss is a statement, a declaration that what’s between us is real and powerful.

When we finally part, Vivianne’s cheeks are flushed, her breath coming in short gasps. I straighten, helping her regain her balance, and glance defiantly at Merlin.

The message is clear: I’ll do as I please, Merlin’s disapproval be damned.

Vivianne glances between us, confusion and amusement playing across her features. “I’ll—see you downstairs,” she manages, her voice a bit breathless as she slips into her room.

I turn to face Merlin, chin raised. This is my choice, my path. And I won’t let anyone, not even him, stand in the way of what’s developing between Vivianne and me.

I meet Merlin’s disapproving gaze. He spins on his heel and walks away, his back stiff and his stride purposeful. He pauses at the top of the stairs.

“You’re playing a dangerous game.”

“I’m navigating treacherous waters, but I know what I’m doing.”

“Seducing a Faulks? Be careful with that woman. You don’t know where her loyalties lie.”

“I think I have a pretty good handle on that.”

“You’re making a mistake. She knows more than is safe now, and it’s going to cost you in the end.”

I square my shoulders, keeping my voice steady. “I know what I’m doing.”

Merlin laughs, bitter and sharp, pacing in front of me like an angry parent about to deliver a lecture.

“You think you’re in control?” He spins around to face me, his eyes flashing with frustration and disbelief. “If you think you’re in control, you’re a fool. The only thing calling the shots right now is your damn dick.”

His words hit like a slap in the face, but he doesn’t stop there.

“You’re thinking with the wrong head,” he snaps, jabbing a finger in my direction. “Letting a Faulks get close—to us, to you—it’s reckless. And for what?”

“I know what I’m doing.” I grind out the words as my anger rises.

Merlin’s laugh turns harsh, almost mocking. “No. You do not. You’re too blinded by whatever you think you’re feeling to see the danger right in front of you.”

He steps closer, his voice dropping to a low growl. “You’re too damn mesmerized by what’s between her legs to think clearly. You’re letting your desire steer the ship, and it’s going to get you killed—or worse, get us all killed.”

I don’t back down, stepping forward, my jaw clenched. “Vivianne isn’t like her father. She doesn’t want to be part of his world.”

Merlin spins on his heel, his eyes flashing with anger. “Different or not, she’s still one of them. And you’ve shown her too much, told her too much. Do you honestly believe she won’t turn against you when it suits her? You’re giving her far too much. It’s going to blow up in your face.”

“I trust her.” My voice is low, edged with warning. “And I know where her loyalties lie.”

Merlin stops pacing and stares at me, his eyes hard, his voice cold. “Do you? Or are you just blind because you want to play hero with her? When she realizes how dangerous this game is, you think she’ll still choose you ? She’s going to run back to her daddy—where she’s safe.”

“Safe? He’s exactly the opposite of safe.” I don’t flinch; I stand my ground. “I’ve made my choice. I’m not backing down.”

“Then you’re a fool.” Merlin exhales sharply, shaking his head.

“If it’s a mistake, it’s my mistake to make.” I step closer, my voice dropping to a dangerous level. “Vivianne won’t betray me.”

Merlin shakes his head, frustration rolling off him in waves. “You better hope you’re right. Because if you’re wrong…” He lets the threat hang in the air, heavy and unspoken.

I watch him. The weight of the years etch his face, yet he still stands tall and walks steady, his mind as sharp as ever. But even he can’t escape the relentless ravages of time. His once-iron strength has softened, and though his fierce intelligence remains intact, I can see the subtle cracks age leaves behind.

When he found me all those years ago, he was already a master. I remember watching him paint, his hand capturing the intricacies of The Lovers with a grace I could only dream of.

He painted the first copy of The Lovers decades ago, light-years ahead of where I am now, but the years have taken their toll. Now, his brushstrokes wander, and his hand shakes ever so slightly. He tries to hide the tremor, but it creeps in, relentless and unforgiving.

And yet, for all the age in his bones, the fire in Merlin is as fierce as ever. He still knows how to argue, and God knows he’s still a hothead. He can rip into me like no one else. He is quick to temper and always ready to fight for what he believes is right.

And that’s why I love him.

Despite the harsh words and the frustration simmering between us, he’s been more of a father to me than anyone else ever has. He picked me up when no one else would, shaped me, taught me, and pushed me when I needed it. He’s always been there, even now, when he thinks I’m making the biggest mistake of my life.

I feel the warmth of that love, even in moments like this, when he’s furious with me. Maybe, especially in moments like this. Because beneath the anger and gruff exterior, I know he’s just scared.

Scared for me.

Scared for what this might cost us.

But I can’t turn back now.

“Father,” I say, “this is not productive. Neither of us can change the past.”

“No, we cannot,” Merlin says, but he isn’t speaking about bringing Vivianne into our home.

Merlin is a savior of those less fortunate than himself. His greatest accomplishment is salvaging the lives of the three orphans he brought into his home and raised as his own.

We also became his worst disappointments—except for me. He encouraged our artistic talents and taught us the art of thievery from an early age. He instilled his core values of righting wrongs and giving back, but not all of his values took root in his three children.

Nicholas fell victim to the trappings of wealth and the thrill of the chase. An excellent artist himself, he found thievery a more lucrative career.

Arguments escalated to fights and all-out brawls, often with me struggling somewhere in the middle to keep the peace. Nicholas saw my efforts as a betrayal of our fraternal bond. Merlin viewed them as tacit approval of Nicholas’s transgressions.

Sweet Catherine bore the brunt of the fallout and paid the ultimate price. As Nicholas’s heists became bolder, he dragged her along until the last job ripped our family apart. Catherine was lost to us, and Nicholas was locked away.

Merlin and I were left to pick up the pieces.

But now, Nicholas is back and determined to settle a grudge, placing me firmly in his sights and Vivianne as an unwitting pawn in an old family feud.

“Have you discovered anything?” I ask, curious about my father’s probe into what Nicholas might be doing.

My efforts are focused on the weekend’s gathering and securing leads on several works of art for the cause. I must also accomplish Interpol’s goals and those of the American government. Urakov’s request further complicates things.

Merlin grimaces. “A deal was made. With whom and how is unclear, but someone high in the government is involved.”

Nicholas’s sentence is for life, several lifetimes. He was charged with the attempted theft of millions in gems and free diamonds, and the trail of bodies he left behind gained him several life sentences.

We lost not only Catherine that day but Nicholas as well.

Merlin always hoped for reconciliation, but Nicholas’s rage won’t allow it. Now, it seems he’s back, and from his current actions, Nicholas’s mood has not improved with his years behind bars.

“Do you have any leads?” I ask. “Any idea who might have brokered a deal?”

“None,” Merlin says with a shake of his head. “Nicholas’s contacts run deep, or deeper, than mine. He’s embroiled in several operations.”

“Some of those want him dead.”

“Perhaps, but they might be willing to work a deal with him if their need was pressing enough.”

That’s true.

As skillful as Nicholas is, he risks much in his operations. He thrives on the thrill of a heist, which drives him to carelessness. The only reason he wasn’t caught much earlier is that he was taught by the greatest thief in history.

As much as Vivianne wants to think Merlin is a name picked from the pages of Camelot, that’s not the case. Merlin chose his name carefully—to misdirect for sure, but more to strike a chord of fear in those he stole from, not as Merlin the wizard, but as one of the smaller birds of prey.

Merlins are efficient predators precisely because they hunt in the shadows.

“We need to find out who Nicholas is working for,” I say. “He sent a clear message he’s back.” And, knowing the blackness of the Crow’s heart, Nicholas doesn’t care who is caught in the crossfire.

The door to Vivianne’s room swings open, and light spills into the darkened hall. Merlin glances down the hall and then takes a step down the stairs.

“Does she know about Nicholas?” His voice is low, edged with tension.

“No.” I shake my head, my gaze steady.

“About me?” His eyes narrow, his mouth pressing into a thin line.

“No.” I meet his gaze, unflinching. “That’s not my secret to share.”

Merlin’s shoulders relax just a fraction, but his expression remains hard. He steps down another stair, rubbing a hand over his stubbled jaw.

“It won’t be long until she figures it out,” he mutters, more to himself than to me. His brow creases with the weight of our secrets.

“She thinks you’re dead,” I say, trying to ease the tension between us.

Merlin pauses, a flicker of surprise crossing his face.

“Dead?” He thumps his chest with a sharp laugh, his graying hair falling into his eyes. “This feels alive to me.”

I can’t help but chuckle, shaking my head at him.

“Go do your butler thing. Don’t give her any more reason to suspect you’re anything other than my loyal servant.”

Merlin scoffs, his lips twisting into a wry grin as he crosses his arms over his chest. “Servant,” he mutters with a dramatic roll of his eyes. His posture relaxes slightly, but the annoyance still dances in his gaze. “The things I do for you…”

He takes the steps with surprising liveliness for a man his age, his muttered complaints trailing after him. He glances back once, giving me a look that’s equal parts irritation and fondness, before disappearing down the stairwell.