Secrets Of The A-List

“You told.”

“You told.”

A rising chant swells from the guests. Five hundred pairs of eyes pin him where he stands paralyzed by terror and confusion. There’s no escape. Flies begin to buzz over the Marshall family’s lifeless bodies, dipping and lurching through the air as if drunk on the taint of all that blood.

“You told.”

Thom’s head starts to spin, and he sways. “I swear I didn’t.”

And then Gabe’s hand comes up, blood soaked and bearing a silver knife. Thom has a split second to take it all in before that blade begins its deadly arc in his direction. Sunlight glints off the razor-sharp edge, blinding him. He throws up his hand to ward off the killing blow and...

Thom jolted awake. Heart pounding, adrenaline surging through his body, he realized he was sitting straight up in bed. Never had he had such a vivid dream. All that blood. He could still smell the coppery tang of it. He gazed wildly about his suite, half expecting to see a dozen hollow-eyed corpses crowding around him.

“Holy shit.”

No doubt a large percentage of grooms woke in a cold sweat on the morning of their weddings. But Thom was pretty sure not for the reasons affecting him. Secrets. His head was full of them. And not all of them his. But he was keeping the truth from enough people that this wedding—not to mention his marriage—was built on a house of cards. It would only take one to send his entire world plummeting.

Flopping onto his back, he stared at the ceiling and contemplated his options. They were limited. Marry Elana. Keep his mouth shut.

Breathing hard, Thom shuddered. The sheets of his king-size bed were a damp tangle around his legs. Giving vent to his anxiety, all too aware that his heightened apprehension was the product of his own subconscious, he kicked his feet free.

Terror and panic continued to rampage through him. He could recall the tiniest details, from the way Elana stared blindly at the cloudless sky to how Luc and Rafe had collapsed over their mother as if trying to protect her. He grimaced and swung his legs off the bed. Feet on the floor, he glanced around. Everything was in its place. Not a drop of blood anywhere.

“It was only a dream.”

A dream. Or a premonition?

It was obvious who had killed the Marshall family. Gabe had been the one wielding the blade. He’d struck down his own aunt and cousins. The man had gone mad with power. But was he mad enough to harm the people he loved? Had he already? Was he responsible for what had happened to Harrison? Impossible. That had been a tragic accident. But wasn’t making things seem one way when they was actually another part of what being the Fixer was all about?

And if Thom was the only one who knew, didn’t that make him obligated to keep everyone safe? But at what cost to himself?

What was he supposed to do?

Chapter Two (#u1bd59f31-2477-5fa2-a91f-5c9b87ef2155)

Luc sipped the strong hotel coffee, letting the flavor burst on his tongue. After a sleepless night, he felt flat and groggy. Later, he would go downstairs for breakfast. At the moment his stomach churned. Somewhere around four in the morning he’d stopped wrestling with what he wanted and come to grips with what he should do.

On the desk were two sheets of paper embossed with the hotel’s name. Each of them had a woman’s name scrawled across the top. A line down the middle separated positives from negatives. After Rachel left to meet up with the bridal party in the spa, he’d spent the better part of two hours emptying his brain of every single adjective to describe Rachel and Vanessa.

The number of positive items beneath Rachel’s name had required him to turn the paper over and continue on the second side. Words like: Beautiful. Eager to please. Good Great Fantastic in bed. Respected family. Supportive. All these summed up his perfect mate.

That she was a touch immature and spoiled could also be said of ninety percent of the women in his social circles. Money and a doting father meant that Rachel had never had to work for anything. Yet she wasn’t lazy. She had her charity work and liked to stay active with her father’s campaign.

And she was smart. Not to mention socially astute. She could handle herself with the media and his family. The latter could be a major pain in the ass at times. He admired the way she just fit right in, and in these recent weeks, while his father lay in his coma, she’d been there to support him with her love and distract him with her body.

She melded seamlessly into his life. If he just stopped fighting the inevitable and surrendered to what made the most sense.

The list of Vanessa’s cons was as long as Rachel’s pros. Topping the list was that they didn’t come from the same social class. Not even close. Marrying the help was such a cliché. She would have no idea how to behave, and his family would never embrace her as his wife. This would chip away at what little confidence she had. She’d be looked at as a gold digger. A social climber. No one would take her seriously. And as a doctor’s wife? What would she have to talk about with other members of his profession?

Certainly she was beautiful. Her fiery Latina beauty called to him. No question they would make a stunning couple with their shared heritage. But was she capable of being his partner and supporting him? Or would the gap between their current social stations forever come between them?

A third piece of paper had his own name at the top. He’d once again scrawled a line down the middle, separating the sheet into two columns. This time he’d only listed two items. One on each side. On the left were the words Rachel wants to marry me. The opposite column held the words Vanessa doesn’t.

In black and white, the choice was pretty obvious. Even a fool could see that Rachel was the better choice. But he hadn’t taken one thing into consideration. One very important thing. Without it he couldn’t imagine being happy in his marriage to Rachel. He was in love with Vanessa.

A knock sounded on the door to his suite. Luc set down his coffee and strode to answer. After finishing his lists all those hours ago, Luc realized he could not continue to torment himself with indecision. He had to act and act now. And what better time could there be to propose than when romance and love filled the air?

He opened the door to a short, stout man with a receding hairline. Dressed in an impeccable suit and carrying a nondescript briefcase, Xavier James gave a brief half bow and beamed.

“Good morning, Dr. Marshall. How wonderful to see you,” Xavier said, his manner effusive as he patted his briefcase. “I have brought you a fine selection. There is no better in the state of California.”

“Thank you for coming on such short notice. Please come in.”

Luc gestured the jeweler in before he could change his mind. He was going to do this. He would buy a ring and he would propose before the weekend had concluded.

Xavier entered the suite and cast an appraising glance around the room. Seeing it was unoccupied except for himself and Luc, he gave a little nod. “You wish the ring to be a surprise?”

“Yes. With my sister getting married today, I want the timing to be perfect.” He managed a tight smile. “I like being prepared.”

“I understand. We will find a ring that she will love.”

“I don’t doubt that we will,” Luc murmured ironically. The way Rachel had been dropping hints lately, pretty much anything he slid on her finger would make her happy. “Shall we sit down over here? Would you like some coffee?”

“Thank you, but no,” Xavier said. “I have had several cups already.”

He strode to the dark green sofa Luc had indicated and began dialing a code to unlock his briefcase. In seconds he’d released the clasps and opened the lid with the flourish of a showman.

Running out of ideas to delay the inevitable, Luc joined the jeweler and forced himself to show interest. An array of glittering diamond rings sat nested in black velvet. As his gaze ran across them, Luc could see Xavier had brought a wide assortment of styles, from traditional to outrageous. But in each circumstance, a large diamond was the star.