The Race Is On (How the Light Gets In) by Lily Velden

Author:Lily, Velden [Lily, Velden]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: Dreamspinner Press
Published: 2013-08-07T16:00:00+00:00

Rafael

THANK fuck for iPhones.

They made taking sneak photos so easy for those good at disguising their actions.

And I was very good at disguising my actions.

Of course, the quality of the shots was nowhere near as good as any one of my many cameras could take, but it was good enough. Oh yes, definitely good enough.

This was the closest I’d been to Mr. Moncrieff since our cat-and-mouse game began, his table a mere ten feet from mine. I had an unobstructed view of him between the shoulders of Caramel and Redhead, who were seated opposite him. He was wedged between his mother and his sister, which of course was not helping me figure out exactly who the guy was fucking.

It was frustrating to be so close and yet so far—I damn well knew I had all the jigsaw pieces right before me. All I had to do was put them together correctly to solve the puzzle that was Jaxon Moncrieff.

I watched, perplexed, as Redhead rose from his seat, bending down to plant a light kiss on Caramel’s hair before strolling past me on his way, I assumed, to the men’s room. The guy was as handsome up close as he was from afar. Perhaps he was an extra in the movie Moncrieff was currently filming. So far, I’d had no luck in discovering his identity.

Taking a sip from my cappuccino, I sighed in pleasure—at least they’d chosen a place with excellent coffee and food. If only these Australians didn’t have a whole bunch of stupid rules about not being able to smoke in restaurants, my morning would be almost perfect.

Now, if Moncrieff gave me a decent photo opportunity, I could just about forgive the country for making me deny the craving in my lungs for a little nicotine….

Pretending to type out a text, I tapped the screen of my iPhone, zooming in on John Wayne as he rose and wove his way around the tables, obviously also needing a toilet break.

With my prey gone for the time being, I allowed myself to focus on Caramel—she had a great profile and a lovely long swanlike neck that her messy up-do accentuated nicely. Still, I’d liked to have seen her with her hair down, my bet being that it truly was her crowning glory.

It was hard to gauge her age; her skin spoke of youthfulness, but there was an air of maturity about her. She was probably in her late thirties or early forties, I decided, as she turned to Alison Tanner’s fellow, who’d revealed himself to be an Englishman by his crisp, rounded vowels. Whatever he said to her made her laugh. The sound of it reached me, bubbling out of her arched throat, and making me think of the cool clear spring near my parent’s home in the countryside outside of Rome, where I’d whiled away many hours of my youth.

Who are you? I silently asked her. Where do you fit into this jigsaw puzzle?

It was only as Redhead sat himself

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