Wildest Hearts

apartment, continued to look doubtful. “I don't know. It seems to me a mirror ought to act like a mirror. I mean, I want to see myself in it when I look at it. Why would I want to see some weird painting of an open window.”

    “Your guests will find it fascinating,” Annie assured him smoothly. “It's a wonderful conversation piece. Everyone will comment on it.”

    “Yeah, but is it art? My girlfriend says I should get a piece of art for the hall.”

    “It's a bold statement of artistic whimsy,” Annie said. “A one-of-a-kind piece that will spark the rest of your interior design and add interest to your hallway.”

    “You think so? My girlfriend warned me not to get anything tacky.”

    “This mirror is definitely not tacky.”

    “But is it art?” the young man asked again, looking more doubtful than ever.

    “Excuse me, Annie,” Ella interrupted. “It's Mr. Rain's secretary, Mrs. Jameson. Or rather it's her assistant.”

    Annie glanced at Ella in surprise. “What does she want?”

    “She says she has a message from Mr. Rain. Something important has come up. He wants you to rendezvous with him at home.”

    “Oliver wants me to go home now?” Annie asked, startled.

    Ella nodded. “She says it's important.”

    “Excuse me,” Annie said to her client. She walked over to the counter and took the phone from Ella's hand. “This is Annie. Is something wrong?”

    “Oh, no, Mrs. Rain,” the woman on the other end said hastily. “I didn't mean to give that impression. Mrs. Jameson is extremely busy at the moment with a special project for Mr. Rain. She asked me to pass along the message that he'd like you to meet him at your home as soon as possible. He's on his way there now.”

    “All right. Thanks.” Annie tossed the phone back into the cradle.

    “What's wrong?” Ella asked.

    “Nothing as far as I know. But I've got to run home. I'll be back as soon as I can.” Annie lowered her voice. “Take care of our customer, will you?”

    “My big chance,” Ella murmured. “I'll see if I can unload the elephant on him.”

    “Tell him it's art.”

    Annie opened the front door of the penthouse and stepped inside. “Oliver?”

    She listened intently to the silence that ensued. Apparently she had made it home before Oliver had.

    She closed the door, set down her purse, and went down the hall to the study. A sense of uneasiness ruffled her nerves. The sensation was not unlike what she had experienced the afternoon she had gone to Wally Thorpe's cottage.

    There was nothing wrong, she assured herself. Perhaps Oliver had turned up new information on Daniel. Good news, she told herself optimistically. It had to be good news.

    “Oliver?” Annie stuck her head around the door and saw the familiar cone of light from the halogen lamp. It illuminated a file of neatly stacked papers on the desk. The rest of the room was in darkness.

    “Oliver, I'm home. Where are you?”

    “I'm afraid your husband hasn't arrived yet, Mrs. Rain.” Jonathan Grace stepped out of the shadows. The light from the hall glinted on the lenses of his glasses and on the gun in his hand.

    Annie went numb with shock. An instant later her fingers began to tingle and burn as the adrenalin poured through her. “What are you doing here?”

    “Waiting. I have waited a long time, Mrs. Rain. I think I can manage to wait a little while longer.” Grace used the gun to motion her back out into the hall. “Let's go upstairs to the greenhouse, shall we?”

    Annie did not budge. “Why?”

    “Because it looks like an ideal place for the little domestic quarrel I have planned.” Grace's smile was devoid of all emotion except grim satisfaction.

    “What are you talking about?” Annie breathed in horror.

    “Shall I tell you how the scene will play out? You have discovered that Rain married you solely to get control of Lyncroft Unlimited. You are hurt and humiliated. Outraged. You are planning to file for divorce immediately.”

    “You started those rumors of divorce.”

    “I had to lay the groundwork for today's activities.” Grace smiled coldly. “Now, then. Rain is furious. He threatens you. Fearful of this exceedingly dangerous man, Oliver Rain, a man who has killed at least once before, you, my dear, shoot him in self-defense.”

    “Are you crazy?” Annie demanded. “No one will ever believe that.”

    “Yes, they will. I have planned it all quite carefully.”

    “But I'll deny