Say You Will(49)
Viola brightened. “You have an investigator?”
“Yes.”
“Can I borrow him?”
Bea frowned. “What do you plan on doing with him?”
“I need someone followed. I’m assuming he does that?”
“He does.” Beatrice exchanged a look with Rosalind.
Rosalind leaned over and put a hand on her sister’s knee. “Vi, are you having trouble at home?”
“No, because Charles is never there.” She lifted her shot glass but set it back down when she realized it was empty. “This glass seems to have a leak.”
Bea took it away and set it aside. “I’ll have Wellington contact you later, but first let’s work out the details of this operation.”
“What details are there to work out besides the night we go there?” Rosalind asked.
Portia leaned in. “How are we breaking in? Do we need explosives?”
“No explosives,” Rosalind and Bea exclaimed in unison.
“You’re right.” Portia nodded. “Too conspicuous, isn’t it?”
“It’d be awfully satisfying though,” Viola said wistfully. “Don’t you ever get tired of living quietly?”
“What’s going on, Viola?” Rosalind asked. “You’re not acting like yourself.”
Viola opened her mouth, but then she shut it and shook her head. “We’re here to discuss the will. My problems can wait.”
Portia took a minuscule sip of her whiskey. “So if we’re not going to use explosives, how are we breaking in?”
“I’ll take care of that,” Bea promised. “We’ll go in two nights’ time.”
“Dressed normally.” Rosalind pointed at Portia. “We need to look like we’re going out for drinks, not to rob a bank, in case we get stopped.”
“Good point,” Bea agreed. “That way if anyone asks why we’re in her house, we can pretend to be drunk and clueless. Once we’re inside, we’ll divide the townhouse into sections. Rosalind, you search the living room, I’ll do the bedroom. Viola, you take care of the kitchen, and, Portia, you do the spare room and hall closet.”
They all looked at their oldest sister in awe. “You should have been a military general,” Rosalind said, voicing what was in all their minds.
“I’m in business. Same difference. Are we all in?” She put her hand in the middle.
They piled their hands on top and echoed, “All in.”
“We’re like the four Musketeers,” Portia exclaimed excitedly, “only better dressed and with more fashionable hair.”
Rosalind looked at Bea, who rolled her eyes. What could possibly go wrong with this plan? She downed her whiskey and silently asked Niamh for another.
Chapter Twenty-one
“You, caro, need sex,” Luca declared as they walked to the Red Witch.
Nick thought of Rosalind and felt a longing in both his groin and chest. “What makes you say that?”
“The cagey look in your eyes.” His nemesis pointed at his face. “It’s sex, or you need to race.”
“I don’t need to race.”
“Of course you do. Racing is in our blood.” Luca clapped him on the back. “Fortunately, Australia is around the corner, and not long after that will be Monte Carlo.”
He glanced at his rival. “Why do you want me to be in Monte Carlo so badly?”
“You must allow me to beat you. My manhood demands it of you.”
“You need to keep your manhood to yourself.” He pushed open the door to the bar and let the Italian enter first.
“Charming,” Luca proclaimed, a predatory gleam lighting his eyes. “I’m not sure why I doubted your choice, my friend. I apologize.”
Frowning, Nick watched the Italian make a beeline for the bar and a group of women huddled conspiratorially at one end. He rolled his eyes as he watched Luca flash his lady-killer smile at them.
Then he spotted a familiar blond head and froze. Rosalind. He quickly looked at the other three women, who bore a distinct resemblance to her—and Summer.
The sisters. He slowed his steps, wondering how to proceed. If he were smart he’d—
What? Leave? He couldn’t leave without it seeming strange. Besides, he couldn’t possibly walk away when Rosalind was so close. Or when Luca was so close to her.
“Nick.” Luca waved him over. “How clever of you to find this remarkable place. Come meet my new friends.”
Rosalind peered over the Italian’s shoulder. “Some of us are old friends.”
And a pair of them were lovers, although he wasn’t certain anyone knew.
She must have read the question in his gaze, because she gave him a subtle shake of her head.