The Second Lie (Immortal Vikings Book 2) Read Online Free PDF

on the blue background. An address on First Street in Napa, above her store and café. “Here he is. Did I get any of it wrong?”
    Her mouth opened, she thought, but she couldn’t speak. He’d used the shop address. What else had he done?
    “Sorry to be presumptuous with your little creation, but Geoffrey needed middle initials. I chose Robert and Charles. Three names sounds more English, don’t you think.” It wasn’t a question.
    “How could you?” She stumbled two steps backward until her hip bumped a shelf. “How?”
    “You provided excellent credentials. The internet did the rest.”
    “You’re an imposter. A liar.”
    “Miss Mancini, so are you.”
    “No. No, I’m not.” He couldn’t know the full truth. There was no way he could have guessed her status. No one knew except her half brother and maybe her uncle. For all his faults, and they were numerous, she couldn’t imagine Uncle Robert would have told a stranger about her citizenship. And her brother wanted to sponsor her as soon as he’d finished his Marine Corps training, so he wouldn’t have let a word slip.
    “What would Elaine and Jack Johnson think about how you fooled them?”
    Relief swept through her and she slumped into the shelf, the cool glass of a bottle and the corner of a sign display pressing her shoulder blade through the dress fabric. He didn’t know. Even if her business reputation took a hit, the temporary insanity that had urged her to buy a ticket to London wasn’t going to cost her the ability to return to California.
    “They’re friends.”
    “Men like Jack don’t like to look foolish, and being Elaine’s surrogate daughter only goes so far. No, you can’t risk telling them. Or anyone. Certainly not Bodeby’s.”
    It was frigid in here now.
    “I think your evidence will stay in whatever ugly American rucksack you brought with you. I think you can’t do anything but watch.” He set the glass he’d been holding in an empty niche.
    The tiny ringing as the thin walls of crystal vibrated, imperceptible to anyone who wasn’t as focused as she was on the moment, acted like an alarm. She jumped to the side, away from his orbit, closer to the door.
    “Fine. You win this round. But I’m not done either.”
    “I wouldn’t respect you if you were.” He looked at a gold wristwatch, a brand she couldn’t recognize but that screamed money. “Shall we disband our tête-a-tête? I’ll give you a moment to blend into the crowd outside. Do try not to look so blushy.”
    She put her fingertips to her cheeks. They were hot, or else her hands were frozen. Damn him. She yanked the door but remembered to moderate her steps as she glided back into the preview.
    The lights felt like stage glare after the dimness of the cave, but the connoisseurs chatting throughout the room remained oblivious to the scam artist in their midst. He fit with them and told them what they wanted to hear, exactly the way men like him pulled their schemes. Critics might accuse her of the same tactics, but she knew that creating a fake person wasn’t as bad as creating fake wines and selling them. The distinction seemed fundamental.
    A fringe benefit of being small and wearing even smaller jewelry was that she could pass through the crowd as invisibly as a waiter, because if someone stopped her to talk, she didn’t know if she could be civil. By now, Elaine should be finished in the loo or the WC or whatever the English called it, and Christina could safely hide there to plan her next step.
    Although intellectually she believed her wrong was minor compared to passing counterfeit wines, the imposter was right about one thing. She wouldn’t denounce him. The super-wealthy didn’t like to confront any gullibility. If she wasn’t extremely discreet, her own dreams would circle the drain as surely as the junk in the fake bottles.
    But no way in hell would that man con Christina Alvarez.
    * * *
    “Miss? Miss?”
    The hand and voice were gentle, but