Gift of Gold (8 page)

“At that little table near the hall that leads to the rest-rooms,” Jonas said carelessly.

“Jonas!”

“Relax. I put her and Rick and Laura exactly where you told me to—near the fireplace.”

“Thank God. This is not a joking matter, you know,” she lectured severely. “I can’t wait to meet her. What’s she like?”

“You can’t miss her. She’s the one who looks like she should be wearing a brass brassiere and carrying a spear.”

Verity glowered at him and shoved the salad plate into his hands. “Very funny. Here, take this out to table number three. I’m going to say hello to our new guests.”

“Sure, boss lady.”

She ignored that, brushing past him into the dining room. Jonas shook his head in amusement and strolled out to table number three with the salad. One cold greeting from Caitlin Evanger would no doubt wash that silly excited sparkle out of Verity’s eyes. It never paid to get thrilled by a visiting celebrity. From the expressions on the Griswalds’ faces, Rick and Laura had already discovered as much.

To Jonas’s complete astonishment, however, it was soon apparent that Verity and her celebrity artist had hit it off quite well together. The Griswalds were obviously relieved to have someone take the burden of conversation off their shoulders, and Verity clearly had plenty to discuss with Caitlin Evanger. That didn’t surprise Jonas as much as the fact that Evanger seemed quite content to talk with Verity.

Jonas found himself keeping a speculative eye on the two women as he served the other tables. Strange. He’d never thought of Verity as the hero-worshipping type.
Or should that be heroine-worshipping type?
he wondered vaguely.

Verity had to keep dashing back and forth to the kitchen throughout the rest of the evening but at every free moment she returned to Caitlin Evanger’s table. It was obvious that she was fascinated with her guest.

Jonas’s indulgent amusement over Verity’s bright-eyed enthusiasm started turning into outright annoyance somewhere around nine o’clock. It occurred to him that Caitlin Evanger was getting a lot more attention from Verity than either he or the cafe was getting. Jonas was left to keep the dining room running. It was just fortunate for everyone concerned that Tuesday evenings were quiet, he told himself grimly. If Verity ran the place like this on a regular basis, the No Bull Cafe would have gone broke a long time ago.

By ten o’clock the restaurant was empty except for the Griswalds and Caitlin Evanger. Verity sat down at their table once again and this time she stayed there, leaving Jonas to finish cleaning up the kitchen alone.

That did it. Enough was enough. Jonas tossed aside the pan Verity had used to mix a dish of fettuccini and peapods and stalked out to the dining room. Verity’s crystal laughter greeted him. She turned around in her seat as he approached.

“Jonas, you’ll never believe this. Caitlin knows you.”

A sudden, cold alertness washed through Jonas. He glanced speculatively at the other woman. “Is that right?” he asked calmly. He was dead certain he had never met Caitlin Evanger before. No man would ever forget this chunk of ice.

Caitlin lifted her wineglass to her lips, her eyes on him. When she spoke her voice was as cool as the rest of her. “Vincent College. About five years ago. You gave an undergraduate history lecture on Renaissance warfare techniques and equipment. You used slides of several Renaissance paintings to illustrate your points. I was taking some art-history classes there at the time and I dropped into the hall to hear what you had to say. I had heard about you.”

Jonas hesitated a beat before answering. His stomach tightened as if someone had just put a sixteenth century blade in his hand and told him he might have to use it. This was the last thing he needed right now. How much did this strange woman know about him? he wondered. How much had she heard, and why was she here tonight? Something felt very wrong. Dangerously wrong.

“You have an excellent memory, Ms. Evanger.”

The gilded blond head nodded once in satisfaction. “I thought you looked familiar. When Verity mentioned your background in Renaissance history I began to put it all together.” Her gray eyes pinned him. “How on earth did you wind up here? You were making quite a name for yourself in academic and museum circles, as I recall.”

Before Jonas could find a way to deflect the pointed question, Verity interrupted. Her gaze was on Jonas’s face. “What sort of name was he making for himself, Caitlin?”

“At the time I took the classes at Vincent, Mr. Quarrel was well known on campus. In addition to his growing list of publications, he had recently exposed a fraudulent necklace that was supposed to have dated from the sixteenth century. It had actually been made in 1955. He saved a well-known museum a fortune. Apparently there had been other such instances in which he exposed similar frauds. Your Mr. Quarrel was gaining a reputation for being able to authenticate museum-quality artifacts. Your specialty was armor and weapons, though, as I recall, not jewelry. Isn’t that right, Mr. Quarrel?”

Jonas watched Verity as he answered. “Times change, Ms. Evanger. My specialty today is dishwashing. Mind if I finish clearing the table?”

“Oh, don’t worry about the dishes, Jonas,” Verity said quickly. “Why don’t you sit down and join us? Caitlin has been telling us all sorts of juicy gossip about the art world. It’s fascinating.”

“It’s late. I’d rather finish up, if you don’t mind. I wouldn’t want to give you any reason to complain about the quality of my work. I need this job.” He scooped up plates and silverware and went back to the kitchen. No doubt about it, he didn’t like that cold fish of an artist. He liked her excellent memory even less.

Jonas was willing to bet that he wouldn’t like Caitlin Evanger’s art, either.

Jonas allowed his memory to shift back to the end of his career at Vincent College. Images of himself dressed as a Renaissance nobleman, a sword in his hand, flashed through his mind. So did the image of a man lying on the floor at his feet. Blood stained the pristine white lab coat the wounded man was wearing. It also stained the tip of the sword Jonas was holding.

With grim effort Jonas shoved the pictures out of his head. He had learned to live with the old nightmare. Most of the time he could keep it buried in his mind. But Caitlin Evanger had brought it to the surface again. The sense of wrongness he felt about the woman increased.

Twenty minutes later, when the little group in the dining room finally broke up for the evening, Jonas knew he was in trouble. Verity was more than a little annoyed with him.

That didn’t bother Jonas. He was spoiling for a fight, himself. Everyone smiled politely as good-nights were said, but the moment the door closed behind the Griswalds and Caitlin Evanger, Verity turned on Jonas. Hands on her hips, she confronted him as he lounged in the kitchen doorway, wiping his fingers on a dish towel.

“I hope you’re satisfied with yourself, Jonas,” she began without preamble. “Are you always that rude to people like Caitlin Evanger, or did you single her out for some reason? Whatever the answer, I’d like you to know that I was thoroughly embarrassed.”

“Sorry about that.” Jonas tossed aside the dish towel. “Ready to go home?”

She stared at him. “You’re not sorry at all. What on earth is the matter with you tonight?”

“Nothing’s the matter. It’s late and I’d like to get to bed.”

“Don’t look at me—I’m not stopping you,” she snapped.

“Fine,” he growled. “Let’s go.” He headed toward her, turning out lights as he went. When he reached the door he took her arm in a forceful grip and steered her outside. She stood stiffly while he locked up for the night.

“Would you mind telling me why you’re acting this way?” Verity hissed softly as he again took her arm and prodded her in the direction of her cabin. “You’re behaving like a spoiled little boy who’s throwing a tantrum because things aren’t being done his way.”

“That’s better than acting like a silly, fluff-brained art groupie.”

“Art groupie!” She yanked her arm free of his grasp. “That’s a stupid thing to say. Just because I like Caitlin Evanger and her art is no reason to call me names.”

“You were hanging on that woman’s every word tonight. Talk about fawning. I never would have thought of you as having a fan mentality, Verity. You made a fool out of yourself. ‘I was stunned when I first saw
Branded
,
Caitlin,’ ” he mocked, remembering one of the conversations he had overheard while clearing tables. “ ‘I couldn’t get it out of my head for days, Caitlin. Such a vivid commentary on the relationship between women and men in this society, Caitlin. Such artistic insight, Caitlin.’ ”

Verity moved before he could stop her. She yanked herself free of his grasp, whirled to face him, and came to a halt on the path in front of him. Jonas eyed her warily.

“I know what your problem is, Jonas Quarrel. Your feathers are ruffled tonight because you got an unwanted glimpse back into your own past, didn’t you? Caitlin Evanger reminded you of the time you were making a success out of your own life. She reminded you of the days when you were on the verge of making it big in the academic world. You had your act together back then and you were going to be someone. People were already paying attention to you. And then you got lazy and blew it.”

Jonas felt a tremor of real anger go through him. Up until now he had been merely irritated. But now he knew cold fury. Caitlin Evanger had reminded him of his past, all right, but the memories were laced with violence and blood, not the synthetic perils of academic success. He kept his voice even, but he could hear the edge in it and knew Verity must have heard it also.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about, Verity,” he said. “I suggest you keep your mouth shut. My past is my business.”

“I’ll bet there’s more to it than just being reminded of it,” she went on recklessly. “I’ll bet you’re jealous.”

“Jealous! Of Caitlin Evanger? Give me one good reason.”

“She prevailed against all odds. She made it. She had ability and she honed and refined that ability, even though she was crippled for life. She worked hard to get where she is. She’s not a success just because she had talent or because she got lucky. She
worked
for that success. Look at the difference between the two of you. You should take a lesson from her, Jonas. She’s enjoying the fruits of her labors and going on to bigger and better things, while you’re washing dishes.”

“That’s enough, Verity.”

“You’re just like my father. Both of you are too damn easygoing and too self-indulgent to work at achieving what you’re capable of achieving. You don’t even want to settle down, do you? You’d rather fritter away your whole life jumping from one place on the globe to another instead of staying put long enough to build something worthwhile of your life. You’re irresponsible, that’s what you are. A little boy who doesn’t want to be bothered with growing up and assuming control of his life and his abilities. Here today, gone tomorrow.”

“I said that’s enough, Verity.” He was knotted with tension as he received the lash of her tongue, but she seemed oblivious to the precarious state of his temper.

“Oh, shut up and go to bed. I don’t want to hear anything more out of you tonight. The least you could have done was to show some respect toward someone who’s made something of herself and her talent. Laura was right. I have been on the verge of going crazy, but I’ve seen the light in time. I’ll start paying more attention to her stressed-out lawyers and stockbrokers and doctors.” She whipped around and started up the path toward her cabin.

“Dammit, just who the hell do you think you are?” Jonas had her before she’d gone a yard, his hand closing forcefully around her shoulder. He yanked her back around to face him. He knew his words were dangerously soft but he doubted if she realized the significance of that. She had never seen him lose his temper.

“Let me go, Jonas.”

He ignored the imperious command. “So you think I’ve got a few problems lady? Well, let me tell you something, I’m not the only one. Take a good look at yourself. You’re turning into a shrewish little spinster because you won’t look twice at any male who doesn’t live up to your high standards of sober, respectable, responsible manhood. No wonder you haven’t got a lover, let alone a husband. What man in his right mind would want to get slashed to ribbons by that sharp tongue of yours? What man who wasn’t a complete wimp would want to listen to you tell him how to run his life? Who gave you the right to sit in judgment on the male of the species? You know next to nothing about me and yet you’ve got the nerve to stand there and lecture me on what I’ve done with my life.
Who gave you that right?
”

He felt her flinch under the onslaught of his anger. Her eyes were huge and wary in the shadows. Jonas could feel her straining to escape the grip of his hand.

“Let me go, Jonas.”

With a muttered oath, Jonas released her. Verity turned and fled to her cottage.

Jonas stood watching her, his hands clenched at his sides. He was almost shaking with the force of the anger and frustration sweeping through him. This woman was going to drive him over the edge.

He sensed the soft vibrations of the earring in his pocket and instinctively reached for it. The instant his fingers closed around the gold circlet he began to calm down.

When he had set out on the quest to find Verity he had not expected to find himself at the mercy of this sharp-tongued wench.

And he hadn’t expected to run into an ice-blooded artist who knew something about his past, either.

Life was full of surprises.

Chapter
Four

The
faint rasp of metal on metal brought Jonas out of a light sleep two hours later.

He came fully awake in the darkness, not moving while he focused on the sound. He had heard similar sounds before. Five years of surviving waterfront dives, back alleys, and lodgings that frequently fell short of Hilton standards had taught him exactly what that slight, scraping noise was.

Someone was trying the lock on the front door of the cabin.