Obsidian Prey Read Online Free Page A

and dropped it into the pocket of his black jacket.
    Lyra frowned at Nancy. “I think Mr. Fitzburn is waiting for you.”
    “Right,” Nancy said. “Bye.”
    She hurried off, pausing briefly behind Cruz to wink at Lyra over his shoulder and make encouraging motions with her hands. Lyra pretended not to notice.
    “What was it you wanted to speak to me about, Cruz?” she said.
    “I’d rather not talk here. Your apartment is nearby. Would you mind if we went there to have this conversation?”
    Alarm zapped through her. Her first thought was that going back to her place alone with him was probably not a good idea. Not yet, at any rate. Following hard on the heels of that bit of common sense was the memory of the breakfast dishes she had left sitting in the kitchen sink. And then there was the silky, chocolate brown bra she had washed by hand before leaving the house that morning. The bra was spread out on a towel on the window bench.
    Her apartment was a small, open, loft design. Both the kitchen and the window bench were clearly visible from the entrance and sitting area. There was no way she could keep Cruz from seeing either the dishes or the bra.
    This was so typical of the Dore luck, she thought. The man of her dreams walked back into her life, showing every indication that he wanted to make amends for his betrayal, and she had to worry about dirty dishes and a little hand washing.
    She cleared her throat. “Well, the thing is—”
    “If the idea of being alone with me makes you nervous,” Cruz said, “we could probably find a quiet restaurant somewhere nearby.”
    “No.” The word was out before she could stop herself. She drew a deep breath. She could do this. Cruz had his pride, too. She could allow him a little privacy for his groveling, and if one thing led to another, as seemed increasingly possible, there would be a lot of kissing and making up to be done. That required privacy, too. “No, that’s okay. We can go back to my place.”
    “Thanks.” He took her arm and started toward the door. “Sorry to catch you by surprise. I thought about calling, but I figured it would be better to talk about this in person. Some things can’t be said over the phone.”
    “Especially in view of the fact that all of our recent communications have been conducted through lawyers,” she said.
    His mouth edged up slightly at the corner. “That does tend to limit the conversation.”
    “Actually, it turned out to be a pretty one-sided conversation.”
    “That was because you had a pretty bad lawyer.”
    Heads turned as Cruz steered her through the room toward the glass doors. Like most members of the notoriously reclusive Sweetwater clan, he tried to keep a very low profile. Until recently, he had spent his career working as an agent in the various field offices of AI Security. It was that anonymity that had allowed him to deceive her three months ago. But his recent appointment to the CEO slot had brought with it a lot of media attention. Her lawsuit had only added fuel to the fire. These days, in a gathering like this one, he was bound to be recognized.
    An eerie silence descended on the crowd. It was followed almost immediately by a buzz of conversation that sounded a little too forced. The unmistakable rhythms of hot gossip, Lyra thought. Tomorrow there would be talk on the streets of the Quarter where the galleries and antiquities shops were located and possibly a mention in the art section of the Frequency Herald. Harriet Swan was no doubt giddy. Nothing could have elevated the status of her modest gallery more than having word go out that Cruz Sweetwater had been present tonight.
    Three months ago this kind of attention had not been an issue. In his guise as a secretive underground collector, Cruz had favored secluded, dimly lit restaurants and romantic meals in her loft. But tonight things were different. Tension twisted her insides. She did not like this feeling. It was like being onstage.
    “Ignore