Say It with Diamonds

by Lucy King

  It was probably the fact that he’d been too busy to go out with a woman in the last couple of months that was messing with his mind. Yes, that was undoubtedly it, he thought, snatching his phone back up and scrolling through his list of contacts. What the hell. If he wanted a date he knew plenty of women who’d be only too pleased to hear he was back in the country and free on a Saturday night.

  There was nothing special about Bella.

  Absolutely nothing at all.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  WILL had ruined her for ever, Bella thought morosely, taking a sip of champagne and resisting the temptation to down her glass in one. That was the only possible explanation.

  Because Phoebe had been right. Alex’s friend, who’d turned out not to be Will of course, but Sam, was attractive, intelligent and witty. He was interesting, good company and he’d brought her to a restaurant she’d been dying to try out ever since she’d read about it in a magazine a week or so ago. He’d kept his eyes on her face, had ordered vintage champagne and had told her the evening was on him and that she was to have whatever she wanted.

  He was absolutely perfect.

  Except for one thing. One tiny weeny little thing that shouldn’t have bothered her in the slightest but now, apparently, did. A lot.

  And that was the complete absence of any chemistry whatsoever.

  Bella bit her lip as frustration clutched at her stomach. Up until a couple of days ago she’d been perfectly happy to sacrifice mind-blowing orgasms in favour of long-term commitment. Up until a couple of days ago chemistry hadn’t even featured on her wish list. Now, apparently, it had gone in at number two. Now, apparently, she wanted commitment and great sex, which was as irritating as it was scarily unattainable.

  When she’d met Sam in the bar earlier she’d automatically checked him out. She’d looked into his eyes, studied his mouth, his smile and run her gaze over his body in the hope of feeling something.

  But had she? No, she hadn’t. Not a spark. Not a tingle. Not a shudder. She’d dug around for even the tiniest flicker of lust, but it wasn’t there.

  That it now seemed to matter was infuriating in the extreme. Particularly since it was, she knew, all down to Will and the lingering effect he seemed to have on her.

  With hindsight she should have simply sent him a text instead of calling. At the time though, texting, after what they’d been up to, had somehow seemed a little cowardly. Now however, she wished she hadn’t been quite so principled.

  The last forty-eight hours had been a nightmare. Ever since he’d abruptly hung up on her she’d barely slept. Barely been able to eat. And as for work, well, that had been a complete disaster.

  Yesterday she’d been working on an emerald pendant, and without warning the fiercely intense expression on Will’s face as he thrust deep inside her had flown into her head. As desire had bolted through her her vision had blurred, her hand had trembled and the emerald had shattered.

  After that Bella had stuck to paperwork. Which might have been safer for her profit margin, but still didn’t stop her mind wandering.

  As much as she told herself that she’d done the right thing by terminating any further contact with Will, it hadn’t stopped her from thinking about him constantly. It hadn’t stopped her mentally adding thick dark hair, deep blue eyes and a firm muscled body, along with sizzling chemistry, to her wish list.

  And it hadn’t stopped her from feeling ever so slightly put out that he’d given in quite so easily.

  Which was so mind-bogglingly absurd it was certifiable. Because what had she expected after she’d bailed on him? That he’d beg her to go out with him? Huh. She doubted Will Cameron had ever begged for anything in his life. And even if he had, she still wouldn’t have gone out with him.

  So why was she being so contrary? Why was he so hard to put out of her head? Why was she finding it so difficult to move on?

  Sam’s phone call yesterday evening should have been the perfect chance. The invitation to dinner couldn’t have come at a better time and she’d fallen on it like a single female wedding guest landing on the bride’s bouquet, saying yes with such effervescent enthusiasm that he’d probably got completely the wrong idea.

  Agh. Bad simile, Bella thought as her head began to swim at the images that weddings and bride’s bouquets and saying yes in the context of Will conjured up. Resisting the urge to hit herself over the head with the menu, she set her jaw and harnessed her self-possession. She really had to get a grip. She’d had quite enough of this pointless fixation with Will. Will was long gone. She had to focus on the future.

  And the present, come to think of it. She was here with Sam now and even if their date wasn’t going to go anywhere she owed it to him to make more of an effort.

  Feeling slightly ashamed at quite how far she’d drifted from the conversation, Bella blinked and snapped her brain back to the man sitting opposite her telling her about … well, about something.

  ‘I’m so sorry,’ she said, aware that he was looking at her as if expecting some kind of contribution. ‘What were you saying?’

  ‘Nothing particularly interesting,’ he said, giving her a dry smile and sitting back.

  Bella felt her cheeks grow warm and inwardly grimaced. She was hardly the most scintillating date Sam could have hoped for. Pulling herself together, she flashed him a bright smile. ‘Oh, I’m sure that’s not true,’ she said.

  ‘Believe me, it is.’ He tilted his head and regarded her thoughtfully. ‘I’ve bored you into oblivion, haven’t I?’

  ‘Of course not.’ And it was true. ‘It’s just been a—ah—knackering week.’ Which was also true. ‘Sorry.’

  ‘Look,’ he said, putting down his glass after a few long, awkward seconds and leaning forwards a little. ‘How about we cut straight to the chase?’

  Bella felt her stomach flutter with trepidation. ‘OK,’ she said a little warily.

  ‘It’s not happening, is it?’

  ‘What isn’t?’

  ‘Us.’

  She let out the breath she hadn’t even realised she’d been holding. ‘I’m afraid not. Do you mind?’

  ‘Not in the slightest.’ He smiled. ‘There’s no … ‘ He paused, as if searching for the right word.

  ‘Zing?’ Bella supplied helpfully.

  ‘Quite.’ Sam grinned. ‘There’s no zing, is there?’

  ‘None at all, I’m afraid.’

  Plenty of zing between her and Will though. A shiver ran down her spine and desire began to throb in the pit of her stomach. With a superhuman effort, Bella blocked it out and told herself to get a grip. If she was ever going to stand a chance of moving on she had to stop thinking about him.

  ‘Good,’ said Sam. ‘Well, now that’s cleared up, we can enjoy supper without worrying if either of us is going to make a move.’

  Bella made herself relax, grinned and picked up her menu. ‘I couldn’t agree more.’

  The main thing he’d forgotten about Rosie Green, Will reflected as he helped his date out of her coat and handed it to the maître d’, was that while she was beautiful and intelligent, like the wisteria that climbed up the back wall of Hawksley House she had a ferocious tendency to cling.

  From the moment he’d picked her up, she’d been hanging on his arm and snuggling up to him, and if it hadn’t been for the fact that he had no intention of sitting at the house brooding about his non-date with Bella he’d have made up some sort of excuse and got rid of her.

  Quite apart from the fact that he’d been the one to ask her out and so ditching her would have been extremely ungentlemanly, Will decided he’d done enough brooding already. More than enough, in fact, and he was sick to the back teeth of it. So Bella hadn’t wanted to go on a date with him. Big deal. He really ought to have got over it by now.

  But had he? Not one little bit.

  Of course, getting over it would be a hell of a lot easier if he could stop thinking about her.

  It would be one thing if she confined herself to haun
ting him in his dreams, he thought, watching the waiter scoop up a couple of menus then indicate that they should follow him. He could just about cope with waking up hot and sweating and stiff with desire. After all, that was what cold showers were for, weren’t they?

  But did she do the decent thing and stick to his dreams? No, she did not. She wasn’t that considerate. She popped into his head all the damn time, seizing control of his body and derailing his train of thought as she wrapped herself around him, shot him smouldering smiles and squirmed against him.

  Over the past two days he’d been asked if he was all right more times than he could remember, and it was driving him insane.

  ‘Will, are you OK?’

  God. Gritting his teeth and biting back the urge to snap, Will jerked his head round to see Rosie glancing up at him, a tiny frown creasing her forehead.

  ‘Fine,’ he muttered as he always did, then plastered a smile to his face and put a hand on her back to propel her after the waiter.

  Sooner or later he’d get over it, wouldn’t he? Frankly, he had to, because if this tension continued he’d shatter and God only knew what would happen then. Besides the fact remained that he had asked Rosie out and she didn’t deserve him to be sitting there all grim and fierce and monosyllabic.

  In the vague hope that focusing on the tranquil white walls of the restaurant and the gentle music that oozed from speakers in the ceiling might soothe his poor beleaguered brain, Will let his gaze sweep around the room and with every step felt the tension ease a little.

  Until his eyes landed on the couple sitting at the table next to the empty one the waiter was weaving towards.

  As recognition slammed into him Will stopped dead and froze and just like that the tension rushed back. The breath shot from his lungs as if he’d been thumped in the solar plexus and the floor tilted beneath his feet.

  Bloody hell.

  It was Bella. With a man. Laughing and chatting and looking extremely cosy. All hope of tranquillity and peace vanished and his heart began to thud with something he couldn’t identify.

  The conversation he and Bella had had over the phone slammed into his head. She’d told him she had plans, hadn’t she? So was this why she’d cancelled their date? Because she’d had another one?

  Will’s eyes narrowed as they zoomed in on the man she was with. Something inside him snapped and before he could stop it a shaft of white-hot jealousy scythed through him. And then a sudden burst of anger swept through him, hot on the heels of the jealousy, and both began to churn around inside him in one seething explosive tangle.

  Because hadn’t she said she wasn’t involved with anyone else? Hadn’t she sounded outraged when he’d made the suggestion in the first place?

  Well, she and whoever he was looked pretty close. Pretty damn involved.

  So had she lied?

  Dimly aware that he shouldn’t care less if she had, Will felt his blood begin to boil. After all the lies and deceit he’d grown up with he simply couldn’t help it.

  ‘Will, is something the matter?’

  Rosie’s voice cut through his volatile thoughts and brought him careering back to his surroundings. ‘No,’ he growled, and gave her a quick smile to mitigate the tone of his voice.

  She peered up at him. ‘You’ve gone rather pale.’

  ‘Just seen someone I wasn’t expecting to,’ he said tightly, forcing himself to calm down because it was fine. He was fine. And Bella, happily chatting and smiling away at her date, was certainly fine.

  ‘Do you want to go over and say hello?’

  Will frowned as his pulse picked up.

  Did he?

  Why not? He had no intention of leaving, and he could hardly spend the entire evening avoiding Bella and her date when they were sitting a couple of feet away. Going over and saying hello would be the mature and sensible thing to do.

  Plus he’d get to see how she reacted and that would be … interesting. ‘Why not?’ he said coolly.

  And because, despite trying to convince himself it was simply the sting of rejection, he had been disappointed when Bella had turned him down, and because right now he felt anything but mature and sensible, maybe not just hello.

  ‘So how do you know Phoebe?’

  Bella glanced up from the menu, rather grateful for the break. She’d spent the last few minutes trying to decide what to have and had so far narrowed it down to a choice of three. Every dish sounded too delicious for words and while Sam might have told her to order anything she liked, she doubted he’d meant everything she liked.

  ‘I met her at a party about a year ago and we became friends,’ she said. ‘Then I started providing the gems for one of her clients who designs handbags, and now she does my PR.’ Bella tapped the menu against her chin and thought that Phoebe did a lot more than just her PR. ‘Actually she’s more like a good friend than a colleague.’ She gave him a quick smile. ‘How do you know Alex?’

  ‘We’re looking at doing a joint venture together,’ he said. ‘Backing a start-up. Exciting if you’re into that sort of thing.’

  Bella grinned. ‘I’ll take your word for it.’

  And then Sam’s gaze slid over her shoulder and his eyebrows lifted and to her complete consternation the back of her neck began to prickle. Every one of her nerve endings tingled and her stomach fluttered. The sounds of the restaurant, the clinking of cutlery and the quiet hum of chatter faded. She felt a dart of alarm, a twinge of panic and then as her body began to heat the smile slipped from her face and her whole body tensed as trepidation began to wind through her.

  Oh, God. Oh, no. Surely not. Not when she’d managed to convince herself that she was moving on … That really wouldn’t be fair.

  But then when was life fair? she thought, her stomach plummeting to the floor. The back of her neck had only ever prickled once before and that had been when she’d been in the vault at the bank pretending to be completely absorbed in setting herself up and she’d sensed she wasn’t alone.

  As her heart began to thunder she realised that there was no use pretending she didn’t know exactly who it was that Sam was staring at, who it was who was standing behind her. And it was equally no use pretending that he wasn’t there.

  Surreptitiously taking a deep breath and praying she’d be able to play it cool, Bella plastered a bright smile to her face and swivelled round.

  To find herself staring straight at a crotch, far closer than she could have possibly imagined. And not just any old crotch, she thought, her head swimming and her heart lurching. No. This one she’d had the pleasure of before. She knew exactly what lay behind the buttons of those jeans and exactly how good it had felt inside her. As the desire that had been annoyingly elusive all evening began to pour through her she had to grip the table to stop herself slithering to the floor.

  ‘Hello, Bella.’

  Will’s voice, lazy and deep, came from somewhere high above and Bella, battling back a fiery blush and ordering her heart to steady, made herself calmly lift her head.

  As her eyes roamed up over the stripy shirt stretched over his chest and the chocolate brown jacket, all train of thought vanished. She couldn’t even remember what was on the menu, let alone what she’d toyed with the idea of ordering. And as for playing it cool, well, that was a joke.

  There was a tightness gripping his body and a hardness to the set of his mouth and her heart banged against her ribs. He looked dark and brooding, like a man on the edge. On the edge of what, she had no idea, but he was definitely teetering on the brink of something and it made her heart thump even harder.

  Without warning, he bent down, brushed his lips against her cheek and Bella nearly passed out. His scent, his heat, the proximity of him stole the air from her lungs. Lust shot round her and she clamped her mouth shut to stop the whimper that was racing up her throat from escaping.

  God, if she’d needed any convincing about the appeal of sexual chemistry she had it. An odd sort of buzz was spreading through her body and her blood wa
s heating and all she knew was Will was being all grim and dark and overwhelming and she was falling under his spell all over again. Quite happily, she thought, going dizzy at the realisation.

  Or rather, quite happily until she clocked the presence of the gorgeous leggy redhead draping herself over his arm.

  With gritted determination Bella fought back a scowl and kept the smile in place as she ran her gaze over the woman Will was with. So much for the fleeting idea that he’d sounded annoyed when she’d cancelled their date. Unlike her, it clearly hadn’t caused him any sleepless nights. He’d probably put her straight out of his mind and been on the phone to the redhead within seconds.

  Huh.

  She watched the redhead lean a little further into him and shoot him a smouldering smile, and she wondered whether they’d come by car and whether Will had instructed Bob to take the circuitous route.

  Whether he made a habit of telling Bob to take the circuitous route.

  Jealousy flooded through her and Bella had to stifle a gasp at the pain that speared her. Jealousy? What on earth was that all about? She had no reason to feel jealous. She was the one who’d cancelled their date, so Will could take the circuitous route with whoever he liked. Just because she didn’t want him didn’t mean that no one else would. Apart from the tiny issue with commitment he had, he was the most eligible bachelor in the country.

  And besides, she’d moved on, hadn’t she?

  ‘Will,’ she said, swinging her gaze back towards him and determinedly deepening her smile. ‘What a surprise.’

  ‘Isn’t it?’

  And then her eyes met his for the first time and she immediately wished she could dive beneath the table and stay there all night. Because his eyes were ice cold, as hard and flinty as lapiz lazuli, and cut right through her, making her shiver and putting a chill back in her blood.

  He was fuming, she realised, completely poleaxed. But fuming about what? Surely he couldn’t be angry with her, could he? All she’d done was cancel a date. Hardly the crime of the century. Yet here he was, bristling down at her, the hostility rolling off him in waves and practically drowning her. It was baffling.