The Darkest of Shadows (10 page)

I picked a short black-and-white dress, with just a shade of grey in it, and matched it with a wide black belt and black Armani clutch. I was ready.

Patrick’s low whistle of acknowledgement was enough for me to know that I had chosen well. He leant his head back against the headrest of the seat as I slid in beside him. “You really are going to be the death of me, Lilly,” he informed me, as the driver drove us away from my house. “As long as I get to take you home tonight, I think I’ll be able to manage to get through the night without embarrassing us both.”

“You can muss me all you like later,” I assured him, and we shared a knowing glance.

Patrick looked good in a tux, really good. He caught my appraising glance and leaned over and gently kissed me. He knew all about not messing with the lipstick.

“Behave,” he whispered.

The awards ceremony was a sit-down dinner, and then after that the guests could mingle with the other participants. Our table consisted of Maria and her husband; Peter and his partner, who I was surprised to learn was a man; Ashlan and his date, who I wouldn’t have been surprised to learn he picked up from an escort agency—she had that kind of look; and completing our group were Samuel and his equally ancient assistant, Mrs. Thompson.

Samuel was seated next to Patrick, who sat on my left. I was thankful for this because, although close, he couldn’t actually see me easily, which was exactly as I preferred it. Conversing with that man was a mental challenge I wasn’t equipped for tonight. Ashlan sat on my right and his date next to him, while the others completed the circle of our table.

Eventually, the awards started, and in between courses various companies took their awards gracefully and with the usual boring acceptance speeches. There were well over three hundred people in the room, so I wasn’t too surprised that I didn’t recognize any of them—that is, until one of the announcers called for the main awards of the night, the one that we were up for: Most Outstanding Engineering Development.

We had just finished a joint-venture construction on a heavy industry machinery plant in southern Spain, an expensive, high-tech project that had come off really well. There was a lot of optimism riding on our chances of winning, because it was not only a state-of-the-art development, it was culturally and socially integrated into the surrounding old-world community in which the owners chose to build it. Hence, it was not only a successful production plant, but it served many other purposes in the local community that would ensure its continued operation and importance for many years to come.

What I didn’t realize was that Monterey Enterprises was also nominated for this award, which meant that somewhere in this huge room, Lawrence Monterey sat enjoying the evening. Well, that meant I definitely wasn’t moving my ass from my seat, not if there was a chance that I might run into him.

Patrick squeezed my hand under the table and sent me a supportive smile. “Relax,” he whispered quietly, easily picking up on what caused my sudden agitation.

“Easy for you to say,” I whispered back. “You didn’t make a fool of yourself last time you were in his company.”

“He won’t come anywhere near us tonight. We’re definitely small fish in this room.”

Big enough to be nominated alongside him
, I thought to myself, and found myself suddenly wishing with everything in me that we didn’t win that award.

Alas, it was not to be.

“And the winner is Cartright and Nagel, for their Vallier Machinery development.” The loud speakers boomed the announcement around the room, and then all eyes turned toward our table.

Patrick, Samuel, and the other MDs were standing, busy congratulating themselves on the win, while I tried valiantly to remain out of focus. Sadly, this was one of those events where roving cameramen were on scene to catch the excitement up close and personal, and then, no doubt because of the size of the production, the intimate moments were telecast on huge screens at the front of the room for everyone else to see.

Any chance of my remaining inconspicuous were shot down when they zoomed in on Patrick as he wrapped his arms around me for an excited hug. All captured in alarming detail on the big screens.

Samuel led his directors onstage to accept the award while the rest of us stayed at the table. Me personally, I tried to sink beneath it and disappear.

I know I should have been happy about the win. It was good for the company, and when I stopped feeling like I was going to vomit, I’m sure I would have shared those feelings. But for the time being, I had other things to worry about, like disappearing from the table before Patrick and the others returned. With a politely murmured excuse about having to visit the restroom, I escaped through the maze of tables toward the nearest exit.

I stumbled to a halt just outside the doors, where I found myself in a foyer of some kind, but all I really cared about was the sign at the end of the room that indicated there were bathrooms nearby.

I took as long as I possibly could in there. I touched up my makeup and spent a few long minutes fiddling with my hair, but eventually I knew I would have to venture out, or no doubt Patrick would come looking for me.

Trouble had a way of finding me, and it certainly had me in its bull’s-eye when I came out of the bathroom and saw a large man standing off to one side of the hall. I think maybe I was still a little frazzled from the awards, and at first I didn’t acknowledge him, but the closer I got, the more familiar he seemed. It wasn’t until I was nearly upon him that it clicked where I had seen him before.

The blond surfer boy.

I also should have realized that where one was, the hulking black one would be too. But too late, he was suddenly standing behind me, and then, as I gave a startled yelp, he pushed me through the door surfer boy happily swung open for me. It shut firmly behind me and left me standing face to face with Lawrence Monterey.

“Do you often abduct women in closets?” I asked sharply, my gaze skimming the room quickly and determining that it was some kind of cloakroom.

Lawrence moved from where he stood leaning against one of the walls, a small smile playing at his lips. “Lillianna Owen.” He drawled my name.

“Lawrence Monterey.” Seriously!

“I was surprised to see you here tonight.”

I shrugged. “You and me both.”

“Congratulations on the win,” he said.

“Wasn’t really much of my effort,” I replied honestly. “Mind telling me why I’ve just been hauled into a closet with you?”

“It’s not really practical for me to be seen speaking with you in public. Too many people will read into it; so for your protection, I thought it best to conduct our conversation in private.”

“We’re not having a conversation,” I told him, as I moved back toward the door. “We have nothing to say to each other, and I’d appreciate it in the future if you could refrain from this type of behavior.”

“Oh, but there you are wrong, Lilly. We have much to discuss.” His words followed me down the hall, and I was more than surprised that he didn’t try and stop me from leaving.

Lawrence shook his head and watched her retreat down the hall. There she was, walking away from him again. She stood before him with absolute grace and didn’t for one moment believe that she wasn’t as worthy as he.

She was every bit as beautiful as he remembered—maybe more so—and he thought that it was likely that she became more appealing every time that he saw her. She intrigued him, and, more astonishingly, she amused him. It took a great deal to amuse Lawrence Monterey these days, and without conscious effort, Lilly seemed to be able to bring that rare emotion to the surface.

He knew a lot about this woman, certainly more than he had at their first meeting, but he also realized that he knew nowhere near enough. It was time to make a decision: did he want to pursue this, was he interested, or was this like all the other women, all the other moments in his past, destined for disappointment?

Was she worth it?

The dinner portion of the evening was over by the time I returned to the function room, which allowed for everyone to start mingling among the tables. I had no idea where Patrick was when I finally found my way back to our table, only to find it deserted. Screw Patrick, this whole evening was a bad idea, I was going home.

I struggled through the crowds toward the exit before a hand grabbed my arm, and I came to an abrupt stop. “Lilly, wait.”

I turned to meet Patrick’s confused gaze. “Sorry I lost you in the crowd,” he apologized.

I shook my head at him. “No, I’m sorry,” I told him. This was a big night for him, and he should enjoy it. “I’m going home; please, you stay.” I tried to stall his words. “I’m really not feeling well, and I think it best if I have an early night.”

“Are you all right?” he asked, concern evident in his eyes.

“I’m fine.” I pulled my arm from his grasp. “There’s just too many people in here.”

He nodded in understanding, and I hated that I had lied to him. “Do you want me to come over later?” he asked.

“I’ll probably be asleep.” I doubted that, but I also wasn’t up for that tonight. “Come over tomorrow, and we’ll spend the day together.” I compromised with an offer that I knew that he would accept.

“Sure.” He nodded eagerly. “I’ll see you then.” I slipped out the doors before he could add anything else.

It didn’t improve my already frazzled state when I found myself escorted from the building by surfer boy. But other than walking quietly beside me, he remained silent as we left.

With a quick wave of his hand a car pulled out from down the street and swept quietly up to the curb beside us. But when he held open the back door of the very impressive 4WD, I simply stared at him in shock.

“I’ll get a taxi, thanks,” I muttered, as I backed away. There was absolutely no way I was getting into a car associated with Monterey Enterprises.

Surfer boy followed me across the sidewalk, “Mr. Monterey insists.”

I resisted the urge to tell him what exactly Mr. Monterey could do and instead turned and started walking in the opposite direction. He appeared beside me so quietly that I flinched away. “Go away.” I stopped walking, suddenly not too sure that I wanted to leave the security of the lights at the front of the building.

He shrugged. “I’ve been told to see you safely home, Ms. Owen. I can’t do that if I go away.”

“You don’t have to do any such thing,” I assured him, a frown creasing my eyes. “I don’t know who you think you are, but I’m perfectly capable to getting a taxi, so please go back inside.”

He totally ignored me. I did notice a slight crinkle at the edges of his eyes, but other than that, I might not have spoken at all. It had been a really long night, and I was tired and starting to be a little afraid that I’d bitten off more than I could chew with Lawrence Monterey, when lo and behold, who should step up to stand beside surfer boy but Monterey himself.

“Lillianna,” he huffed, in obvious exasperation. “If you insist on going home, at least use some sense and get in the car.”

My mouth actually fell open in shock.

“It’s too dangerous to be roaming the streets by yourself, and you’ll find it difficult to get a taxi at this time of night. Take the car.” He indicated the black Range Rover that waited patiently behind us.

Just then, and I thanked God for it, a taxi crawled lazy down the street toward us. I turned, and without a word I stepped out into the road to flag it down. Within the space of a minute, I was inside and headed down the street without having to entertain any more strange conversations with Lawrence Monterey.

I thought about that night a lot the next day and finally came to the conclusion that the whole situation was totally beyond my comprehension. Patrick came over just before lunch, and I dragged him out for a walk in Kensington Gardens. I was unsettled, and I hadn’t felt like that for a long while. Yesterday I would almost have said that I was happy with where I was in my life, but now I wasn’t so sure. But what I was certain of was that the source of that disturbance was Lawrence Monterey. He was too strong, too dominant, and he messed with my nice, ordered existence.

Patrick, his usual observant and patient self, knew something was bothering me, but instead of pushing for answers, he just walked silently beside me. Later, when it got dark and quiet and it was just the two of us, he soothed me in a way that only he could. For a short while I forgot; when I was just with him, I could be anyone I wanted, forget who I really was. Forget Lawrence Monterey.

I did, and morning bought no clearer enlightenment, but what I did know was that I had to get away from Lawrence Monterey. He was a danger to me, in a very real sense. I wasn’t strong enough to play his games. I barely managed to function in the world as it was, but in his world? The stakes were too high and the game too fierce for someone as unstable as me.