He continued to pace back and forth, leaving a path of shoe prints on the rug in front of the bed. He eyed the painting, which he and Antonio had hung opposite his bed, every few seconds. He was utterly enchanted with the sensual work of art, and it wasn’t because he thought it was of great value. The painting spoke to him in a way no other piece of art ever had. It reflected his conundrum and the emotions brewing inside of him. Even more, it reflected something he’d never felt before he met Gaby.
Love.
I love her.
Shit!
Having had this remarkable revelation and knowing he would be deprived of it for the rest of his life twisted like a knife in his gut.
The more he stared at the painting, the more his jealousy grew. The beautiful redhead gazed at her lover the way he wished Gaby would look at him. Hell, shehadlooked at him that way last night. Did she feel the same way about him as he felt about her?
Then why did she write that damn letter?
He walked up to the painting. For some reason, it drew him like some sort of talisman. The woman in the portrait was clearly in love with the man, and Jack sensed that nothing could ever keep the two lovers apart. But that was certainly not true of his relationship with Gaby. The mysterious painting seemed to shout at him—You are inadequate, shallow, and unworthy of love.
How could he have been found wanting even after giving himself entirely to her? A part of Jack wanted to yell at Gaby, and a part of him wanted to get down on his knees and beg her to reconsider.
A rap on the door interrupted his self-flagellation. He strode to it, wishing it was Gaby coming to make atonement, but that was a useless wish. She’d made clear in her abominable missive that what they shared had been a fleeting moment of passion, not something to build a life on.
“What do you want?” he growled, opening the door. His brusqueness surprised even himself. The damn woman had turned him into a blathering lunatic, blundering through every encounter. He was irritated at his lack of control over his emotions.
Stefano eyed him critically, good manners likely holding his tongue from responding in kind. “Is there a problem, Jack? Antonio came to me with an urgent message to come see you.”
Jack felt his face flood with embarrassment; he’d forgotten that he asked Antonio to do that. “Yes, ah, well, it seems one of the servants has made a discovery.” He was so angry with Gaby that he refused to acknowledge that she’d discovered the secret room and its booty. “I need your expert opinion.”
Jack crossed his arms over his chest and waited while Stefano acclimated to his surroundings. It took a second for his gaze to alight on the painting, and an instant change came over his composure.
“What have we here?” Stefano whistled.
Jack chuckled as his own words of surprise when he first saw the burlap-wrapped painting were repeated to him. Stefano’s eyes sparkled with keen interest. He studied the painting from where he stood, and, as if drawn by a magnet, he inched closer and closer. Jack had already ascertained that there was no signature on the painting, but of course, Stefano, with his eagle eyes and vast knowledge of art history, would be able to ascertain its provenance.
Stefano stood transfixed, his eyes sweeping back and forth, taking in every inch of the canvas. He pulled a magnifying glass from the inside pocket of his coat and moved in closer to the painting.
“Jack, this is truly remarkable,” he said a few minutes later. “If this painting is authentic, it is a most significant find.” He looked at Jack, his eyes dancing with excitement. “We would need to have it thoroughly examined, of course.”
Jack felt the quickening bump-b-bump-b-bump of his heart. “Surely you jest?”
“I never jest when it comes to art or money.”
“You think this is an original, don’t you?”
“Yes. If authentic, it is Marco Allegretto’s third painting inThe Three Stages of Loveseries of paintings,Il Leto. You recall I mentioned the mystery surrounding this painting and that it was last seen at the Uffizi and stolen? A rumor circulated about fifty years ago that it was somewhere in Tuscany. It would make sense.” Stefano could not contain the zing in his voice. “This,amico mio, is the painting that Constance and I are searching for. It’s worth a fortune, and Constance will certainly pay a fortune to possess it.”
Jack stared at the painting with fresh eyes. He would be hard-pressed to explain why he felt protective of the picture or why the thought of parting with it disturbed him. The sensual way the two people looked at each other reminded him of what he felt for Gaby. This intense, unbreakable connection defied all reason.
There was also something else that sparked in his mind. The painting, like Gabriella, had appeared, as if by magic, at the same time and in the same place.What are the odds?And it was Gaby who’d discovered it.
Jack did not believe in coincidences, at least not like this. In his experience, coincidences required thorough investigation. Not to mention, how likely was it that Constance Shipley and her companion Blossom Rosalind had arrived on a search for this very same painting. And then the very next day, it was discovered in his aunt’s cellar?
There’s more to this than just happenstance. He was determined to uncover what it was and how everything was connected.
“If my hunch is correct, this painting might be the answer to your financial dilemma,” Stefano said.
Jack’s eyes flew to Stefano’s face. “What do you mean?”
“Please do not take offense,” Stefano said, holding up his hands. “Kitty explained to me the dire circumstances of your position, but it seems Lady Luck may have smiled upon you, Jack. I would advise you not to turn your back on this opportunity.”
Kitty was highly fond of Stefano and trusted him, but Jack was torn by conflicting inclinations. He wanted to regain his estate and title. But most of all, he wanted the woman who’d blown into his life like a tornado. Before Stefano put the wheels in motion with Constance, he needed time to think about everything that had happened in the past few days and what it all meant. He needed to talk to Gaby.
