Didn't she know it. If everyone got what they wanted, Marley would be sitting in a house back home in Cincinnati with a husband and children. Lizzie would be a nurse and their mother wouldn't have tried to kill herself three times. She didn't need this guy giving her a lecture about regret.
"I just want to find my sister. I'm sorry I bothered you. I'll just leave now."
"You do that." His nostrils were flared, jaw clenched, words low and tight. "It won't work, you know. I won't do it, no matter how tempting it is. So yes, you should definitely leave."
Marley frowned, suddenly sorry she'd given him her phone number and e-mail address. She had no idea what he was talking about, he looked annoyed, and she wasn't getting anywhere. She backed toward the door. "Fine. I'm sorry." Her fingers passed over the printout of Lizzie's e-mail she had tucked into the outside pocket of her purse. She had also printed the letter Lizzie had attached and had put it in the middle compartment of her purse. Bracing herself for a brush-off, she paused in the doorway.
It might tick him off even further to ask, but if he knew anything, anything at all… she had to hear it. Had to know. "I'm leaving, but…"
"But what?" He leaned against his desk, pinning her with a passive stare, his arms across his olive green T-shirt.
"Do you know who Marie du Bourg is? My sister, she gave me a letter from Marie, and I just thought it was odd… it was quite old, a confession apparently…"
Marley stopped talking when Damien stood straight up, his fists clenching, jaw dropping, voice angry and confused. "What the hell do you know about Marie?"
"Nothing. Just that she lived here. I don't know why Lizzie had her letter."
"Give it to me," he demanded sticking his hand out. He moved toward her, and Marley instinctively shifted her purse slightly behind her back.
It occurred to her then that maybe he had lied. Maybe he did remember Lizzie and maybe he did know something that could help Marley find her sister, and he was just choosing not to tell her.
And he wanted the letter from Marie du Bourg for whatever reason. This could work in her favor if she played it right. She took a deep breath, gathered her courage, and stood her ground.
"Find my sister and I'll give you the letter," she told him, impressed with how cool and confident she sounded. Blackmail wasn't exactly her forte, but she was feeling a little desperate.
Damien stopped walking, eyes narrowing. "Well, Miss Marley Turner, I was truly not expecting that. You're much more devious and bold than I gave you credit for. But I don't know where your sister is."
"But you can help me find her."
"I doubt it."
"Do you want the letter or not?"
"Oh, I want it."
"Then find Lizzie."
"That letter belongs to my family. Your sister is a thief."
"I don't have the original. Lizzie just copied the letter into an e-mail. That's not a crime."
He smiled, a slow, charming smile that made her stomach flip over. Damien leaned closer to her. "I admire your loyalty to your sister," he said in a low voice. "Give me the letter and I'll let it be known that I'm entertaining Friday evening. If your sister is in the area, I imagine she will show up. Does that satisfy you?"
Marley was acutely aware that he was standing only a foot away, that he was tall and broad and very masculine, tension ripe in his taut muscles. "I'm not satisfied that easily," she told him, lifting her chin and locking eyes with him. He wasn't going to intimidate her with his sensual persuasion.
The smile became a wolfish grin. "That sounds like a challenge."
"No. Just a warning." Marley took another step back, not wanting to turn around so close to him, not wanting that feeling of vulnerability that not having an eye on him would bring. "I'll be here on Friday for the party and I'll bring the letter. If Lizzie is here, I'll give it to you."
"If that's your requirement, then be back here tomorrow. I need some more information about your sister so I can make sure she arrives on Friday."
Marley debated the wisdom of that. "Why can't I give the info to you now?"
"I have an appointment that I am already late for."
It went against her better judgment, but she nodded. "Fine." In the morning she'd rent a car, since she'd be staying in the area until at least Saturday. And being able to drive away from this man on her own whenever she couldn't tolerate him anymore felt absolutely essential.
"Excellent. Just one question before you leave. If Lizzie has been missing since June, why are you just looking for her now?"
It was a direct hit. Guilt sliced through her, agonizing and raw. "I didn't know she was missing. I've been in a convent all summer in solitude."
The look on his face was sheer horror. He pointed an accusing finger at her. "You're a nun?"
"No. I went on a religious retreat." And discovered that in many ways, she had lost her faith.
Some color returned to his face, but he still shook his head slowly, his eyes disbelieving. "Oh, this is priceless."
On that note, she turned around and just left. There was something so volatile and disturbing about him, even when he was being polite, that she felt cornered, vulnerable. It wasn't a good feeling and she cut across the grass, taking big purposeful steps.
"See you tomorrow, Marley," he called from the door, amusement in his voice. "I'll be waiting for you, with bells on."
How Lizzie could have ever thought for one second that she loved this man was beyond Marley. He did nothing but disgust her. And fascinate her.
Chapter Three
Damien watched Marley Turner walk quickly across his lawn toward the waiting taxi. He hit number two on his cell phone and listened to it ring three times.
"Hello?"
"I'm not amused," he said, leaning in his doorway.
"Damien, sometimes your cryptic remarks are adorable. Sometimes they just piss me off. Today is the latter." There was rustling, like Rosa was rolling over in bed. Then the click of her lighter, and he heard her suck in a drag of her cigarette.
"The girl showed up." Or more accurately, woman. Marley Turner had been an intriguing little package, obviously scared but gutsy and determined. When he had tipped his hand and shown how eager he was for Marie's letter, she had seen an advantage and taken it, and he respected that kind of quick intelligence.
She was also clearly disgusted with her sister's behavior, but defended Lizzie fiercely in the next breath.