Say It with Diamonds

by Lucy King

  ‘I dare say they weren’t,’ he murmured, lifting his eyes to hers, thrusting his hands in the pockets of his jeans and then swivelling round and striding after the butler.

  For a second Bella just stood there, staring at his retreating figure, her heart thudding as she wondered if she’d imagined the flare of desire she’d caught in his eyes.

  Must have done, she decided firmly, dismissing the thought as nonsense and springing forwards in an effort to catch him up. Will had shown no indication that he was attracted to her whatsoever, so why would he start now? It had probably been a trick of the light or something.

  ‘So the jewellery comes with the title?’ she said, eventually drawing up at his side and trying not to pant at the sudden physical exertion.

  ‘It does.’

  And just like that a light bulb switched on in her head.

  Oh, my.

  Her brain spun and her heart raced. No wonder the name had sounded familiar. No wonder something about the samples he’d brought her had niggled away at her brain. And no wonder the collection was stored at one of the most prestigious private banks in the world.

  Will was taking her to see none other than the Hawksley Collection.

  Bella caught her breath as excitement ripped through her. The Hawksley Collection was a legend. The greatest, most romantic jewellery collection in the world. It consisted of around two hundred love tokens, gifts of eternal adoration and appreciation, bestowed by the men in the Hawksley family on the women they loved.

  She’d heard about it, of course. Had read about it. Had secretly envied it and yearned for someone to love her with that much passion, that much devotion. But she’d never seen it. No one had recently. It hadn’t been on display for years, which had only added to its glamorous mystique.

  It was so achingly romantic. So completely heart-fluttering. So dreamily sigh-inducing.

  And it was fake?

  Questions clamoured at her brain. How? Why? Who else knew? And what would she find when she examined the rest? Would the whole lot turn out to be fake?

  Her throat burned, her vision blurred and her mind boggled. Even if she could untangle the questions ricocheting around her head she could hardly ask. Not with the butler melting away and the security guard stepping forward to usher them into the lift.

  ‘You go on down,’ said Will, tilting his head in the direction of the lift, and backing away. ‘I’ll be with you in a couple of minutes. I have to make a quick call.’

  Bella frowned. Another one? What could possibly be more urgent than this? This was staggering. This was humongous. But it was his collection, and if he wanted to let her go down ahead of him and leave her alone with the jewellery, who was she to argue?

  ‘OK,’ she said, trying to remain cool, which was almost impossible with all the emotions thundering through her. ‘I’ll see you down there.’

  Will watched the lift doors close, shoved his hands through his hair and, abandoning all pretence of making a phone call, headed towards the stairs.

  If he’d had any idea of the torture a half-hour car ride with Bella would induce, he’d have ditched the car and insisted on making the journey from Notting Hill to the City by Tube.

  If they’d taken the Tube, he thought grimly, attacking the stairs two at a time, he wouldn’t have had to spend the last thirty minutes struggling to keep his hands to himself. He’d have had plenty to concentrate on. Adverts. Announcements. Maps. Other people.

  And yes, given his irritatingly ingrained problem with places and situations from which he couldn’t escape, it would have been hell, but no more so than what he’d just been through.

  Despite trying to keep himself busy with his smartphone, he’d had little else to concentrate on but Bella. With her dress constantly riding up and giving him an eyeful of slim thigh, and her scent winding into his head and making him think of hot exotic nights, Will’s imagination had gone into overdrive.

  It had had her giving him a smouldering smile, shooting him a come-hither glance and sliding across the leather towards him. As his body had responded with annoying predictability, his imagination had then got really carried away, and before he could rein it in Bella was bunching up her dress and sitting astride him, leaning down and whispering in his ear. She was arching her back, thrusting her breasts forwards, and then she was lowering her lips to his, sliding her tongue into his mouth and kissing him slowly, languidly, mind-blowingly as she writhed against him.

  God, just remembering it now made him stiffen and ache.

  Heaven only knew what instructions he’d given his team. He could have lost millions for all he knew. But it was either that or reaching forwards and pressing the button that raised the partition between the back seat and Bob, and setting about making his fantasies a reality. Which, based on the froideur with which Bella had treated him to date, he doubted would have been welcome.

  She really did do chilly hauteur exceptionally well, he thought, scowling down at the stairs as the rigid way she’d held herself in the car popped into his head. She’d spent virtually the whole journey staring out of the window, hands clasped tightly in her lap, so tense and still that every time they went over a bump he wondered if she might shatter.

  Although, actually, now that he thought about it, there hadn’t been much chilly hauteur about the way she’d scrambled from the car, had there? Nor in the way she’d jumped when he put his hand on her back. And there very definitely hadn’t been any chilly hauteur in the hot hungry look in her eye when she’d stumbled a few minutes ago and he’d caught her.

  Will jerked to a halt and stood frozen to the spot, his brain racing as his pulse leapt and his blood heated.

  Good God.

  Maybe Bella wasn’t quite as cool and aloof as she’d like him to think. Maybe he did affect her. Maybe she was as attracted to him as he was to her, and the icy distance she fought to maintain was simply her way of dealing with it.

  And if that was the case, he thought, his spirits soaring as he leapt down the last couple of stairs and strode along the passage towards the vault, then he really really wanted to be around when all that latent smouldering heat erupted.

  In fact, maybe, just maybe, dinner wasn’t out of the question after all.

  CHAPTER THREE

  ‘THAT’S it. I’m done.’

  At the sound of Bella’s voice Will snapped his head up to find her rolling her shoulders and rubbing the back of her neck.

  It had been three hours since he’d joined her in the vault and in those three hours these were the first words she’d uttered, at least to him.

  By the time he’d caught up with her, she’d already got to work, so engrossed in taking her tools out of her case and setting her things up that she’d barely acknowledged his arrival. She’d cast a quick wide-eyed glance at the dozens of boxes neatly lined up on the table and had muttered that if she was to finish this side of midnight she’d better get on with it.

  Will had figured that, as conversation didn’t appear welcome, an invitation to dinner would most likely be ignored, so had planted himself at the other end of the table and opened up his laptop.

  His plan had been to bide his time until a suitable moment to ask her out cropped up by clarifying any misunderstandings that might have arisen from his phone calls in the car, and catching up on some work.

  Ha. What a waste of energy that had been. He didn’t think he’d ever had a less productive three hours. Every time he tried to concentrate his gaze would slide over to Bella and he’d find himself wondering exactly what colour her hair and eyes were. Somehow dark brown and light brown didn’t quite cover it.

  At one point she’d been examining a long multi-stranded pearl necklace, and he’d had a sudden vision of her lying on the table completely naked, except for the pearls, with one leg bent and an enticing smile curving her lips. His body had responded with a startling intensity and even now, an hour later, he could feel a lingering ache behind the buttons of his jeans.

  Not that
she’d been aware of his musings, of course. Or his reaction to her. No. Her complete and utter focus on her work was as fascinating and as impressive as his wasn’t.

  Shutting down the spreadsheet he’d spent the last hour staring pointlessly at, Will closed his laptop. ‘And?’ he asked.

  ‘The pieces on this side,’ Bella said, indicating the group of boxes on the table to her left, ‘are genuine. These,’ she said, turning her attention to the group on the other side, ‘are not.’

  Well, that was something to be grateful for, he supposed. The group on the right was a tenth of the size of that on the left. ‘Not quite as bad as I’d feared.’

  Bella nodded. ‘I agree. It seems that all the big stones are genuine. It’s the smaller ones that have been tampered with.’ She frowned. ‘Which does make some kind of sense, I guess.’

  ‘Really?’ None of it made any sense to him.

  ‘Absolutely.’

  ‘How?’

  ‘Smaller stones are easier to replace. Fewer questions asked when taken to be sold.’

  ‘You think they’ve been sold?’

  Her eyes jerked to his. ‘Don’t you?’

  He didn’t have a clue what to think. ‘It’s certainly a possibility.’

  ‘Well, I can’t think why else anyone would do something like this. Do you have any idea who it could be?’

  Will frowned. As far as he knew only he and his aunt now had access to the safe and for the life of him he couldn’t see her raiding the contents. And as for his father, well, he’d been difficult, yes, but he’d never replace the stone in the engagement ring he’d given to Will’s mother, whom he’d loved in his own warped way.

  Nevertheless, he thought, cutting that avenue of thought off before he got tangled up in the memories and the guilt, someone was responsible. ‘Not yet,’ he said grimly. ‘But I will.’

  She tilted her head and the look in her eye turned quizzical. ‘Is any of it yours?’

  Will went still and felt some of the heat leave his body. ‘On my father’s death three months ago it all became mine.’

  She flashed him a wide smile. ‘You know what I mean.’

  He did, and his temperature dropped a little more. ‘I take it you recognise the collection.’

  ‘I doubt there’s anyone in my industry who wouldn’t. The famous Hawksley Collection.’ She grinned. ‘It’s legendary. So wonderfully romantic. The kind of thing little girls’ dreams are made of.’

  The kind of things her dreams were made of? he wondered darkly, catching the trace of wistfulness in her voice and feeling something hard and cold lodge in the pit of his stomach.

  Romantic? What a joke.

  Bella and little girls, and the rest of the world for that matter, might like to believe that the famous Hawksley Collection consisted of two hundred tokens of undying love, but what Bella, the little girls and the world didn’t know, what no one outside the immediate family knew, was that his ancestors were a bunch of adulterous lying cheats, and that ninety per cent of the items in the collection represented an apology for one infidelity after the other.

  ‘So?’

  Biting back the urge to snap that it was none of her business, Will schooled his features and forced himself to remain calm. ‘No,’ he said flatly. ‘In that respect none of it’s mine.’

  But it was hard to stay calm when all of a sudden his stomach was churning and his head was pounding.

  It was hard to stay calm when he knew that the collection was built on a pack of lies and that the legendary status it had acquired was completely undeserved.

  It was even harder to stay calm when he had to live with the constant knowledge that he ought to have contributed to that ninety per cent. Just once.

  Before he had time to brace himself, memories of Tania slammed into his head and a steel band tightened around his chest crushing the breath from his lungs.

  As clearly as if it had happened yesterday, he could see the look of devastation on his ex-girlfriend’s face when, racked with guilt, he’d admitted he’d been unfaithful. He could still remember the tears, the recriminations, the pain he’d caused. And he was still, years later, plagued by guilt, despite her subsequent forgiveness and her acknowledgement that he hadn’t been wholly to blame.

  ‘Maybe you simply haven’t met the right woman yet.’

  Setting his jaw and pushing the memories aside, Will dragged himself out of the past. Not met the right woman? His gut twisted. With any luck he never would. Because there’d be no relationships for him. Ever. No marriage. No children. No family. No danger of wrecking any more lives, the way his ancestors had. The way he had. He simply couldn’t risk it.

  ‘Maybe not,’ he said coolly, ruthlessly obliterating the pang of regret that jabbed at his soul and pulling himself together.

  ‘Anyway,’ said Bella as she pushed her chair back and stood up, ‘what are you going to do?’

  Good question. ‘Put it all back in the safe while I decide,’ he said, wishing that the whole damn collection could be forgotten about.

  She sighed and began packing her kit away. ‘It’s such a shame,’ she said, shaking her head a little. ‘Practically criminal.’

  There it was again, he thought, his attention zooming in on her face as much as her voice. The wistfulness. The longing. The hope. The same things he’d seen and heard when he’d first handed her his mother’s ring, and had chosen to ignore.

  But he couldn’t ignore it any longer.

  It was blindingly obvious to anyone who bothered to take a look that Bella was a romantic. She designed jewellery for a living and, according to Alex, specialised in engagement rings. Which meant she believed in for ever. As he very definitely couldn’t believe in for ever, whether he wanted to or not, Bella was out of bounds.

  Up until now, Will had obviously been blind. Bamboozled by unusually intense chemistry and at the complete mercy of certain parts of his body. Well, not any more, he thought, rubbing a hand over his face and watching her zip up her case. Now he was looking. And coming to the depressing realisation that all that latent heat bubbling inside her would have to be tapped by someone else, because he never got involved with women who wanted more than he’d ever be able to give.

  Ignoring the stab of disappointment that struck him in the chest, Will stifled a sigh and got to his feet. He stalked round the table, plucked her coat off the back of her chair, held it open for her and squared his jaw.

  His mind was made up.

  Regret was pointless.

  They were done.

  *

  So that was that, thought Bella, sliding her arms into the sleeves of her coat and forcing herself not to shiver when Will’s fingers brushed the back of her neck. Watching him march back to gather up his laptop, she freed her hair from the collar of her coat and gave it, and herself, a quick shake.

  And why wouldn’t it be? Their business was concluded, and no doubt he had other pressing things to be getting on with. She certainly did.

  Fastening the buttons, Bella stamped down on the disappointment darting through her and told herself not to be so ridiculous. She had no reason to feel as deflated as a month-old balloon by the knowledge that Will didn’t want to prolong their encounter, like by suggesting dinner or something. Just because it was that time of day and she had been working flat out on his behalf all afternoon he was under no obligation to feed her, was he?

  No. And even if he were, she reminded herself as she knotted the belt, she’d have declined, wouldn’t she?

  Because the way Will had clammed up and gone all tense when she’d tentatively probed him about whether any of the jewellery was his told her that he had issues, and while she might be in the market for a man—and was perfectly well aware that no one got to her age without some kind of baggage—on balance she’d prefer one without too much. Will, she sensed, had trolleyfuls of the stuff.

  ‘Right,’ she said, picking up her case and flashing him a cool little smile. ‘Well, I’ll be off, then.’

&
nbsp; ‘Be sure to send me your bill,’ he said, looking and sounding as if he’d already left, in spirit if not in body.

  ‘I will.’ She nodded. ‘Email or post?’

  Will shrugged. ‘I don’t mind. Whichever you—’

  But whatever he had been going to say—and ‘prefer’ seemed probable—remained unsaid because he tailed off, his gaze sliding away from hers and fixing on something over her shoulder.

  Intrigued by the taut stillness that had gripped his broad frame and the tightening of his jaw, she turned. To see a woman hovering at the gate of the vault.

  How old she was Bella couldn’t tell. Her forehead was suspiciously wrinkle-free and her hands were encased in gloves. Her blonde hair was swept up and diamonds twinkled in her ear lobes. Wrapped in a cream knee-length coat and shod in beautiful brown crocodile-skin heels, she had a timeless elegance that Bella couldn’t help but envy.

  Whoever she was, however, Bella guessed that she hadn’t been expecting company, not if the way her face was paling and her mouth was opening was any indication. In fact, Bella was pretty sure that had they been able to her eyes would be widening and her eyebrows would be shooting up.

  But before she could analyse the woman’s facial movements—or lack of—any further, she’d regained her composure and glided into the vault.

  ‘Will,’ she said, lifting her chin and bestowing a regal smile on each of them in turn.

  Bella glanced at Will, whose expression was as unreadable as the blonde’s, although she imagined for entirely different reasons. ‘Caroline,’ he said. ‘This is a surprise.’

  His voice was agreeable enough, but Bella thought she could detect a hint of steel, and her stomach fluttered with something that felt strangely like a thrill.

  ‘It is,’ said Caroline, clasping her hands together. ‘I—ah—didn’t expect to see you here.’

  ‘Likewise.’ He crossed his arms over his formidable chest and stood there staring at her, as hard and unyielding as granite, and an involuntary shiver raced down Bella’s spine.