Read Online The Stolen Chalicel by Kitty Pilgrim - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Kitty Pilgrim
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so sorry, Carter.”
“Are you OK?”
“Yes, I just seem to have . . . lost it. I’ll be all right.”
“What can I do?” he asked, standing with his hands hanging down.
Holly turned away, taking a tissue out of her bag. She faced out toward the street, blotting her eyes.
Why was she feeling so emotional? She never cried. Then she realized the problem. There were three things that had caused her to weep: the ruined dress, the spoiled evening, and the fact that she was still in love with John Sinclair.
Carlyle Hotel
L ADY X ANDRA S OMMERSET marched into the lobby of the hotel trailed by two New York City police officers.
“There’s been an incident at the museum,” she told the desk clerk.
“I know. We’ve been watching the TV in the bar.”
“Well, don’t concern yourself. Nobody was injured.” She lowered her voice in a conspiratorial whisper. “I have to have a police escort to my room. . . .”
The clerk flushed. “Oh . . . of course . . .”
The two policemen nodded brusquely to the hotel clerk and then walked with her through the lobby. Even in the elevator, they kept up their stone-faced composure, protectively flanking her in full sight of the security cameras. But once inside the door of her suite, they immediately lost their formality and sprang into action.
“Quickly. Do it fast,” she instructed.
They unbuttoned their shirts and stripped off the felt packing, laying the stolen artifacts on the bed. Shirts were rebuttoned and they were out the door in less than thirty seconds. Back in the hallway, the policemen had lost several inches off their waistlines.
As they left the Carlyle Hotel, they gave a departing nod to the desk clerk, who was in the doorway of the bar, listening to the CNN report on TV.
Metropolitan Museum of Art
C ORDELIA STOOD ON the top of the Met steps, her hair blowing, her eyes narrowed, and her lips pressed into a firm line. She looked absolutely furious.
“Cordelia, what’s wrong?” Sinclair asked.
“I don’t like it that you went off with that woman and left me alone!”
“I didn’t leave you on your own. I was dancing.”
“ Exactly . I leave you for thirty seconds and you run off with some blonde!”
Sinclair stared at her. She was jealous! It was incredible how irrational she could become.
“Her name is Hollis Graham. She’s an old friend.”
“Is that why she called you ‘darling’ ?”
“Figure of speech,” said Sinclair, waving the word away in the air. “She’s like that. It means nothing.”
“How do you know her?”
“She is one of the top Egyptologists in the country. I’ve known her for years. Why are you so upset?”
“I was worried! Weren’t you?”
“Yes, of course I was. I was looking for you.”
Cordelia ignored his reply and picked up her skirts in a huff and flounced down the red carpet. He followed along resignedly.
Delia was a complicated woman and didn’t always sort out her emotions quickly. Most times she reacted first, and then thought thingsthrough later. It didn’t take long for her to calm down. By the time she reached the sidewalk, she was out of steam and turned back to him.
“Should we walk back to the hotel? The limo’s gone,” she said with a certain degree of contrition.
“I’d carry you in my arms if you’d let me,” he replied, and meant every word.
“I was so afraid that you were going to get hurt,” she said, her lips trembling. “I thought I heard gunshots, and you weren’t around.”
So that was it! The horror of her parents’ accident still haunted her. Losing both her mother and father at the age of twelve had been a terrible shock, and even now she had a deep fear of being abandoned.
“Surely you know that I would never leave you, Cordelia,” he said.
“John, I hate it when one of your old girlfriends pops up. It happens all the time.”
“Holly is not one—”
“She isn’t?”
“No, she isn’t. You’re the only woman in my life,” he replied and
“Are you OK?”
“Yes, I just seem to have . . . lost it. I’ll be all right.”
“What can I do?” he asked, standing with his hands hanging down.
Holly turned away, taking a tissue out of her bag. She faced out toward the street, blotting her eyes.
Why was she feeling so emotional? She never cried. Then she realized the problem. There were three things that had caused her to weep: the ruined dress, the spoiled evening, and the fact that she was still in love with John Sinclair.
Carlyle Hotel
L ADY X ANDRA S OMMERSET marched into the lobby of the hotel trailed by two New York City police officers.
“There’s been an incident at the museum,” she told the desk clerk.
“I know. We’ve been watching the TV in the bar.”
“Well, don’t concern yourself. Nobody was injured.” She lowered her voice in a conspiratorial whisper. “I have to have a police escort to my room. . . .”
The clerk flushed. “Oh . . . of course . . .”
The two policemen nodded brusquely to the hotel clerk and then walked with her through the lobby. Even in the elevator, they kept up their stone-faced composure, protectively flanking her in full sight of the security cameras. But once inside the door of her suite, they immediately lost their formality and sprang into action.
“Quickly. Do it fast,” she instructed.
They unbuttoned their shirts and stripped off the felt packing, laying the stolen artifacts on the bed. Shirts were rebuttoned and they were out the door in less than thirty seconds. Back in the hallway, the policemen had lost several inches off their waistlines.
As they left the Carlyle Hotel, they gave a departing nod to the desk clerk, who was in the doorway of the bar, listening to the CNN report on TV.
Metropolitan Museum of Art
C ORDELIA STOOD ON the top of the Met steps, her hair blowing, her eyes narrowed, and her lips pressed into a firm line. She looked absolutely furious.
“Cordelia, what’s wrong?” Sinclair asked.
“I don’t like it that you went off with that woman and left me alone!”
“I didn’t leave you on your own. I was dancing.”
“ Exactly . I leave you for thirty seconds and you run off with some blonde!”
Sinclair stared at her. She was jealous! It was incredible how irrational she could become.
“Her name is Hollis Graham. She’s an old friend.”
“Is that why she called you ‘darling’ ?”
“Figure of speech,” said Sinclair, waving the word away in the air. “She’s like that. It means nothing.”
“How do you know her?”
“She is one of the top Egyptologists in the country. I’ve known her for years. Why are you so upset?”
“I was worried! Weren’t you?”
“Yes, of course I was. I was looking for you.”
Cordelia ignored his reply and picked up her skirts in a huff and flounced down the red carpet. He followed along resignedly.
Delia was a complicated woman and didn’t always sort out her emotions quickly. Most times she reacted first, and then thought thingsthrough later. It didn’t take long for her to calm down. By the time she reached the sidewalk, she was out of steam and turned back to him.
“Should we walk back to the hotel? The limo’s gone,” she said with a certain degree of contrition.
“I’d carry you in my arms if you’d let me,” he replied, and meant every word.
“I was so afraid that you were going to get hurt,” she said, her lips trembling. “I thought I heard gunshots, and you weren’t around.”
So that was it! The horror of her parents’ accident still haunted her. Losing both her mother and father at the age of twelve had been a terrible shock, and even now she had a deep fear of being abandoned.
“Surely you know that I would never leave you, Cordelia,” he said.
“John, I hate it when one of your old girlfriends pops up. It happens all the time.”
“Holly is not one—”
“She isn’t?”
“No, she isn’t. You’re the only woman in my life,” he replied and
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