Rags to Rubies Read Online Free Page A

based on what she’d read about him in the newspaper and rag sheets.
    Indeed, she’d heard more about him than she had just admitted. His reputation ranged from prince to bootlegger, mobster to philanthropist. He was enormously wealthy, made his money in Montana copper, or the Nevada silver fields, or the Yukon. No one seemed to know for sure. The bits and pieces of information failed to create a complete picture. But whether he was Capone’s buddy or kin to Pope Pius himself, he certainly made an interesting specimen. So splendid. So completely male.
    Grace set her key on the foyer table and started up the stairs. She had to admit he’d been the perfect host. Courteous, attentive, solicitous. Had she met him under normal circumstances, she might not have had the heebie-jeebies every time he came within three feet. She set her clutch purse on the oak dresser and sat on the chenille bedspread to remove her shoes.
    Of course, they would never have met. She was a jeweler’s daughter trying to support herself and Zia Bruna. He was a wealthy businessman. In the real world, Grace knew they would never cross paths. Maybe she shouldn’t have accepted his invitation. She plopped back on the bed and stared at the ceiling.
    She’d felt overwhelmed in his home, and not simply by his presence. His library held oversized furniture and a towering mantel that pulled the eye upward to where a portrait of a beautiful young woman hung on golden cords. She sensed that he would not welcome any questions about the mysterious woman.
    The lady wore a scarlet gown, outdated, 1890 perhaps, but the vibrant color and the indescribable expression on the woman’s face spoke volumes. The artist had captured the woman’s essence, her zest for life, her unsinkable spirit, her capacity for love and joy. As Grace gazed at the intense-eyed, blonde beauty captured forever in vibrant youth, she had recognized the fine features and realized she studied an image of his mother.
    The woman in the portrait wore a stunning ruby-and-diamond necklace. To Grace’s trained eye, the rare design was one reserved for grand ladies and long-forgotten royalty. Her curiosity flared, and not just about the painting.
    While she had to admit to herself he was an intriguing man, she was also apprehensive. She didn’t think he needed encouragement to take what he wanted. She’d need to be cautious. Life’s twists and turns had taught her well.
    And something else she’d read about de Warre surfaced in her memory. Powerful. Ruthless. Deadly. He didn’t seem like a man who compromised or played second fiddle to others. She sensed an implacable and unyielding will. Probably from knowing he could obtain anything he desired.
    They lived in different worlds, but she would allow herself this one small pleasure. He was attractive and pleasant company, and she’d been alone for a long while now. What harm could it do? Changing into her flannel nightgown, she sat on the boudoir chair to give her hair the mandatory fifty brush strokes.
    Maybe she would even let him kiss her.
    But she’d have to be careful. Men of honor were few and far between. A lesson she’d learned the hard way two long years ago.

Chapter Four
    The tiny bell attached to the door of 500 Wabash Drive jingled as Jared entered D.L. Hollister & Co. at precisely five o’clock. He spotted his quarry at the jewelry counter. Grace glanced in his direction, smiled, and raised her hand in a small wave before turning back to her customer.
    A wave of anticipation washed over Jared. He felt a slight quickening of his pulse not unlike that of the primordial thrill of the hunt once the prey was spotted. He wanted her.
    Closing in on an adjacent jewelry case, Jared listened while a young man finalized the purchase of an engagement ring. Grace seemed quite knowledgeable as she described the gem’s attributes to her customer. Even if she wasn’t, her melodious voice and contagious smile inspired confidence. Damn , she would