If I’m not here with you now, I’m beyond this life, for ’tis the only way I’ll ever let you go.

She flinched, her whole body jerking. Several long moments passed before she managed to force herself to keep reading.

I hoped I loved you well, sweet, for I know even now that you are my brightest shining star. I knew it the moment I saw you.

Ah, lass, you so adore your artifacts.

This thief covets but one priceless treasure: You.

Dageus

She squeezed her eyes shut as fresh pain lanced through her. The knot in her throat swelled, the burning behind her eyes grew excruciating—yet, still, she refused to cry. There was a perfectly good reason that she hadn’t cried since the night he’d disappeared. She knew that if she cried, it would mean he was really gone.

Which also seemed to imply, in perhaps a less than logical way, that as long as she didn’t cry, there was hope.

Oh, God, she could picture him! She could see them both, standing in the bank that day. He was tall, dark, and too gorgeous for words. She was so excited, so thrilled and nervous. So fascinated by him.

So distrustful, too, of the dastardly, impossibly sexy Gaulish Ghost. She’d watched every move he made, to be certain he really put her precious artifacts in the box before he locked it and gave her the key.

Still, he’d managed to slip the letter in at the last moment without her seeing it.

Even then. He’d wanted her even then. He’d said, even then, that he would never let her go.

“Ma’am?” a brisk voice interrupted. “My apologies for disturbing you, but they just informed me that you’d arrived. Is Mr. MacKeltar with you?”

Chloe opened her eyes slowly. The bank manager was standing in the doorway. She wasn’t ready to talk to anyone yet, so she shook her head.

“Well, then, he asked me to give you this, should you come to collect the contents of the box without him.” He handed her a set of keys. “He said he wanted you to have”—he shrugged, regarding her with open curiosity—“whatever it is these keys open. He said it was paid for, and if you didn’t wish to retain ownership, you could sell it. He expressed his conviction that it would keep you quite comfortably for the rest of your life.” He scrutinized her intently. “Mr. MacKeltar has fairly sizeable accounts in our bank. Might I inquire as to his intentions about those?”

Chloe took the keys with a trembling hand. They were the keys to his penthouse. She shrugged, to indicate that she had no idea.

“Are you all right, ma’am? You look pale. Are you feeling sick? Could I get you a glass of water or a soft drink or something?”