Peril in Paperback: A Bibliophile Mystery

an issue, even though I hadn’t been able to stop myself from Googling the woman at the center of his assignment. Just as I’d feared, Thomasina Marchand was young and gorgeous and artistically gifted. She dressed impeccably. And did I mention her beauty? And her immense wealth? Not that Derek could ever be swayed by material things, but, nevertheless, I’d been suffering little pangs of jealousy ever since he’d flown off to pretend he was in love with her.
    But that was completely normal, right? Anyone would have those little pangs, right? Of course they would. It didn’t mean anything. Derek’s and my connection was beautifully solid. We had a happy, loving, exciting, and totally trusting relationship. He simply had an assignment to carry out, protecting Thomasina from threats of death until she reached the age of twenty-five, as specified in her father’s trust. That would happen in the next few weeks. I knew Derek would perform his job to perfection, and then he would come home to me.That was all there was to it. I wasn’t worried. Nope, not me. No way.
    But the fact that he hadn’t called me in three weeks was starting to bug me. Not in a clinging-girlfriend kind of way, you understand. No, I was beginning to worry that something might be wrong. Could Derek be hurt? In danger?
    “Come on, let’s check out more of this crazy place,” Suzie said, slipping her arm around Vinnie’s waist.
    “Yeah, okay,” I said. “But look. Do you guys mind if I make a quick phone call first?”
    “Of course not, Brooklyn,” Vinnie said, her smile serene again. “Why don’t we meet you in the conservatory in fifteen minutes? Will that give you enough time?”
    “More than enough. Thanks.”
    They reminded me where the conservatory was, then walked out, closing the door behind them. I went to find my cell phone and sat down to make the call to Derek. I listened to the ringing of his phone and felt more connected to him already. I wasn’t sure if that made me a lovesick idiot or just a lonely girlfriend. Either way, it was kind of pathetic, but I didn’t care.
    “Hello?” a woman answered, whispering breathlessly into the phone.
Derek’s
phone. “Who is this, please?”
    I had to bite my tongue to keep from saying, “Who the hell is
this
?” Who was this woman and why was she answering my boyfriend’s phone? Was this Thomasina? I decided on the spot to make it sound like a business call.
    “I must speak to Mr. Stone immediately. This is his office calling.” I sounded officious and demanding, which was exactly how I felt.
    “Ooh, his office. No, I’m sorry, but Derek cannot come to the phone.” Her voice was tinged with a vague but plainly Western European accent.
French? Belgian? Sexy.
She giggled softly. “He’s…ooh…he’s…ah…occupied. Much too…busy…to speak.” Her rapid sighs made it sound as if she were in the throesof rapture.
Seriously? Is she kidding? What the hell is going on?
    Oh, God. Did I really want to know?
    “Adieu,” she added in that same sultry tone, then disconnected the call, leaving me to blink and stare at my phone in stunned disbelief.

Chapter 2
     
    “Well, that sucked big-time,” I muttered to myself as I sat and stared at the phone. Feeling a little shaky, I got up and paced the room. And fretted. And wondered. And got a little pissed off at myself for fretting. Then I fretted some more.
    I’d already rejected the idea that Derek might be cheating on me. It wasn’t in his nature to lie or play games. But it also wasn’t like Derek to let someone answer his phone for him. He ran a multinational security firm and was constantly in touch with partners and clients, evaluating problems and working out solutions. Even when he was working undercover, he would make himself available whenever necessary to deal with critical client issues. His phone was rarely out of his sight.
    At least, that’s what he had always told me.
    So what had just happened? Why would that woman, whoever she was, pull something like that? Had she stolen Derek’s phone? Maybe Derek had done something to annoy her and she was striking back the only way she knew how. Or maybe she simply
wanted
him and he wouldn’t comply. I preferred that explanation. Thomasina Marchand was wealthy enough that she might feel entitled to have whatever she wanted.
    I fretted some more, then got angry. I refused to feelguilty for calling him while he was working. I also refused to let one ounce of