The Temple of Indra’s Jewel: (12 page)

“This is almost too pretty to eat,” I said.

“Almost, but not,” said Cullen, stuffing some scallops into his mouth.

Just looking at him, sleekly put together in his dinner jacket and perfectly starched shirt, his red hair smoothly combed, it was hard to believe he was the same fellow who had been ready to brawl for my honour last night.

“Cullen, you’re too handsome tonight to eat like a caveman. Save room for the lobster, for heaven’s sake,” chided his mother.

Cullen winked at his mother and then excused himself to the washroom.

“I think I’ll join you, son,” John said, standing quickly.

“I thought it was just ladies who did that!” I joked.

“When nature calls.” He smiled back, throwing his napkin down on his seat.

I watched them go, thinking once again how handsome Cullen was.

“You like him,” Lucile said, startling me back to reality.

“Umm… yeah. He’s very sweet.”

“And it doesn’t hurt that he’s a big hunk of a man.” She laughed. “Don’t worry. I’m allowed to say that, I’m his mother.”

I smiled.

“John had the same affect on me when we met. I was barely more than a girl. He made me an irresistible offer: made me a co-anchor and sent me to New York to learn about network news and, more importantly, hair and makeup.” She laughed.

“So you’re on television, then? I should have guessed from the photographers outside.”

“Not bloody anymore.” She laughed. “It was probably just a slow night for the poor buggers. No, I gave it all up to raise my boys, but not before John made me prime-time anchor.”

“That’s right, she had entirely too many brain cells to be sitting behind that receptionist desk,” John said, returning with Cullen to the table. “And I was right. Not to mention she looked lovelier upstairs behind the big one.”

“Yep, he got my career off and running.”

“Then I married her and knocked her up.”

“John. Don’t be so vulgar.”

Cullen looked at me and laughed, obviously used to their ways.

Just then the food came out, along with the sommelier, who announced he had the perfect pairing for the poached lobster and braised turbot.

Two delicious hours later, we strolled—well, Cullen strolled, and I did my best not to waddle—into the hotel.

“Turns out I didn’t need the chocolate.” I laughed as we entered the room.

“No worries. I didn’t need the whisky, but it didn’t stop me.”

“It was so great to see your parents again. And the symphony was nice,” I said, realizing I was more than slightly buzzed.

“It was all right, but I prefer live bands.”

“Me too,” I agreed, taking my shoes off and curling up in the corner of the couch while Cullen poured drinks from the mini bar.

“Not another drink. Lord help me. Are you trying to get me plastered so you can take advantage of me?”

“Maybe,” he said, sitting next to me.

He looked at me for a moment and then slid his fingers around the back of my head, lacing them through my hair and drawing my mouth to his. He stood up and then pulled me to my feet, kissing me again. Chills ran up my spine. His hands went to the zipper on the back of my dress. He undid it with ease, placing his hands on the bare skin of my back.

He pushed one hand farther inside my dress and then moved it to the front, touching my breast. I shivered as he pushed my dress past my shoulders. It slid down my arms and onto the carpeted floor. Then he paused.

“I’m sorry.” He let me go and walked away.

“What? What’s the matter?” I asked.

“I’m behaving like a jack-off. We’ve had a lot to drink. I’ll just get out of here,” he said, grabbing his coat off the back of the chair.

“No. Please, you don’t have to go.”

He looked at me standing brazenly half-naked, and a grin curved his lips.

“I must. I don’t trust myself to behave, if I stay around ya any longer. I want to, believe me, but I don’t want to rush ya. I’ll pick ya up tomorrow and show ya the country as planned. That is, if you still trust me enough to be alone with me?”

“Of course.” I smiled, wishing he hadn’t put the brakes on.

He flashed a guilty grin and exited.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

S
urrounded by hedges and covered in moss, his home looked like a whimsical Tudor-style cottage with beautiful steps leading up to it. It had sectioned-off gardens with alder trees, bells of Ireland, forget-me-nots, wisteria, iris and lavender. It was asymmetrical, with façades of dark timbers and limestone. The roofs were steeply pitched and complex, with gable ends poking this way and that. The massive chimney crowned with chimney pots thrust skyward. Bays of casement windows with diamond-paned leaded glass jutted out from exterior walls, a lot like Gigi’s windows. The whole place reminded me of Snow White’s cottage—unique, charming, clean and comfortable.

I looked around to see where Cullen had disappeared to. At any other time, I would have enjoyed taking in the details, but this time I was more interested in the owner than the well-appointed house. I wandered down the hall and into the living room, where Cullen had placed some family photos and artwork on the wall. He had sunk into the sofa with a pint in hand.

“Who is this?” I asked. “Is this your ancestor, or do you enjoy hanging large portraits of men on your walls?”

Cullen laughed. “Well, I do enjoy a good manly portrait from time to time, but that would be my great-great-great-grandfather Tandy O’Kelley.”

“I can see the resemblance. What is that?” I asked, pointing at his great-great-great-grandfather’s side.

“That was his dagger. Beautiful, isn’t it? When I was little my Da made one out of cardboard for me and I pretended it was his.”

“And I take it that is your great-great-great-grandmother.”

“You’d be right, all right.”

“What is that she’s wearing?” I said, suddenly standing straighter.

“A dress?”

“No. That!” I said sharply, pointing to her neck, where a huge purple scarab gem sat.

“Ah. Good eye. My great-great-great-grandfather was a curator at the National Gallery of Ireland.”

I cut him off. “Your great-great-great-grandfather? What?”

“What’s the matter, Sophia?”

“Are you kidding with me?”

“No, why?”

“That’s the reason I’m here.”

“I thought I was the reason you’re here.”

I looked up sheepishly. “You are, but remember the family heirloom I mentioned? I think that’s it. I was coming here to look for information on it. All I know is that my grandfather got it from a man who worked as a curator at the National Gallery of Ireland.”

Cullen took a huge gulp of his beer. “This is way too much of a coincidence.”

“Do you know where he got it from?” I asked.

“Yes, he happened upon that amulet while he was working among the great lines of mineral cabinets. I believe it was an amethyst. I can’t remember the name, but it was the strangest thing he’d ever seen. There was script carved into it.”

“The Purple Delhi Sapphire.”

Cullen interrupted my thoughts. “Yes.”

“So he just took it. Was he allowed to do that?” I whispered.

“Well, no, not really. It came with a note that said it was trebly accursed and stained with the blood and dishonour of everyone who had ever owned it, and he wanted to get rid of it. My grandfather was a very superstitious man. He showed it to my grandmother, and she begged him to let her wear it for the picture. That was the only time he ever let my grandmother wear it. She fell and broke her leg that same day.”

My mind flashed with images I couldn’t quite comprehend. I felt a gentle touch on my shoulder, and warm tingles danced up my neck.

“So, concerned by the curse, he sealed it with protective charms in seven boxes and sold it.”

I stood staring.

“Sophia, whassup? What are you looking at?”

“Sorry. I must have zoned out,” I said, turning back to him. His hand slid to my neck, and he gently cupped the side of my face with his other hand.

“Cullen, you said that day when you found me that you dreamed of me?”

“I did,” he replied, gently running his thumb back and forth, mesmerizing me.

“What was the dream about?”

“Ah, I’ll be after forgettin’ the details now.” His eyebrows furrowed as he tried to remember.

“Come on,” I encouraged him.

“Well, I’ve actually had a couple of different dreams about ya. There’s one in this castle, and there’s another where I’m pullin’ ya from the sea.

I looked back at the stone around his grandmother’s neck. He dreamed of Sapphira. Were all three of us connected because of this purple sapphire? I stared at him, the conversation sinking in.

He went a little red and let go of me.

“Ah, well, that’s loopers. It’s pro’lly just Arthur Guinness talking,” he said, taking a swig of beer to hide his embarrassment.

Perhaps this was all meant to be. Maybe he was some distant relative of the Graf’s.

I looked down at the table and saw a cute gold tin with a blue lid. I picked it up to examine it.
Sweet
Kilarney.

“Are these candies?” I asked, thinking I could go for something sweet right about now.

“Candies… no. Well, maybe candy for men. That’s pipe tobacco.”

“You smoke a pipe?”

“No. Well, on occasion I guess I’ve been known to have a puff with one of the fellas.”

My attention was attracted by a play of light coming in through the half-opened window. It looked like someone was standing outside his house.

“I can’t stand smoke. It always reminds me of this nightmare I had as a kid.” I set the tin back down and wandered over to the window. The light hovered, shifting and turning as it filtered through from the foliage above. There was no one there. The draperies, gently buffeted by the breeze, took on a life of their own.

His phone beeped at his side, and he pulled it out of his pocket and stared at it.

“Bollix. I have to go into the office for an hour. Will you be all right here, or did you want me to take you over to Ma’s?”

“No, I’ll be fine. I’m actually kind of tired. Is there somewhere I could lie down?”

“The guest room is upstairs, second door on the left. Here, I can show you.”

“No, go ahead. I’m going to grab a glass of water first. I’ll see you later.”

He walked away but then turned back. “I was thinkin’ we’d head down to one of the local haunts when I get back for some drinks and dinner. Would ya be into that?”

“Sounds great.”

“Make yourself at home.”

I watched Cullen get in his Land Rover, and then I walked up the stairs. The painting was still haunting me. This was all too strange to be true.

It couldn’t be real.

But it was real. Wasn’t it?

I picked up the phone and dialed Leslie. She would have to believe me now. My call went straight to voice mail. Damn it! Maybe I’ll send her a quick text. As I was typing my phone rang.
Wow.
That
was
fast.

Silence. I almost hung up. Then I heard breathing.

“You can’t get away from me.”

“Nick?”

“I know where you are.”

“Nick? Is this you, you son of a bitch?”

“You know what I want.”

“I think you have the wrong number.”

“Sophia.” The voice was raspy, gravelly, a growl. Disguised.

A prankster?
Can’t
be—he
said
my
name.

A whisper now, barely understandable. “I can see you. Give it up.”

“Who is this? What are you talking about?”

“I won’t stop until I have it.”

“Have what?”

“I’ll be watching.”

The phone went dead.

“Damn you,” I screamed to the empty house.

I walked to the window to see if Cullen’s vehicle was still there. No. I frowned suddenly, feeling a cold tension seize me. Why? Something… A sound.

Yes. I thought I’d heard a sound downstairs.

“Cu—”

I opened my mouth to call out and then closed it quickly. Some sixth sense warned me that it couldn’t be Cullen; the Land Rover was gone.

I held dead still, listening. Not a sound.

I waited. Looking down, I realized that my fingers were curled hard over the windowsill. I made a point of relaxing them.

Still nothing. I had imagined it.

Then I heard something again. At least I thought I did. A sound, coming, fading, gone. What had it been? A creaking?

And then I realized…

Someone was coming up the stairs.

I started to rush into the hall. Then I realized that if a burglar was in the house, I would run right into him. I stood frozen. No, I couldn’t go running into the hall.

He was coming closer. Coming straight for the guest bedroom. I spun around and tried to silently open the closet door. It creaked loudly.

I could feel his footsteps through the floor. I felt around in the closet. I needed a weapon. I couldn’t think.

My fingers grasped something long and cold with a thick end. A golf club. There was a whole set of them. I pulled one out.

The closet would be an obvious place to look for me. I ran to the bed. Too low to fit under. The footsteps were almost upon me. I jumped behind the curtain, gripping the club tightly in both hands, holding it upright against my body.

I waited, barely breathing. I heard nothing. Nothing at all. He must have gone.

Then suddenly, just when I was relaxing my stance, breathing deeply, easily, the curtain was pulled back.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

I
screamed in panic and swung the club with all my might.

I heard Gaelic swearing as the intruder brought his arms up to protect his face. I brought the club down in a chopping motion and tried to catapult myself past him.

“Oh, no, you don’t!”

He caught my hair. Shrieking, I tried to break free, but fingers wound around my arm. I tried to strike out again, but he had the club by the end. I struggled to keep it and free myself, and then I tripped. I felt the club wrenched from my hands as I hit the floor.

“Jesus, Mary and Joseph! What are you doing?”

I looked up, stunned to immobility.

“Oh my God! Liam?” I said incredulously.

Cullen’s brother.

I’d seen him briefly in profile that day I was eavesdropping. I’d also seen pictures, but I’d never formally met him. I thought of the phone call.
I
know
where
you
are.

“I thought I heard someone shout from up here.” He leaned a hand down to help me up, but I scrambled backward.

“H-how do you know me?”

“The island, Lass. Ya fell, and Cullen rescued ya. Jesus, I helped pull ya from the water. Ya really don’t remember me?”

“Sorry.”

“And then I sat in the hospital with Cullen all bloody night.”

“Right. I’m sorry. I don’t recall any of that, but I do appreciate it. I wasn’t expecting… that is… Cullen never said you were coming over.”

“No, I guess he wouldn’a. He didn’t know. I just popped by. I didn’t know ya were here. Last I heard you’d gone back home after we left France.”

“I did. I had to come here to do some research, and Cullen invited me for dinner.”

“Course he did. Well, I’m sorry if I gave ya a start. Ya got quite the swing on ya.”

I laughed. “Yeah, I was scared.”

“Like I said, I’m sorry I didn’t know, else I would have knocked or at the very least called out.”

“No, it’s all right. I overreacted.”