‘You mentioned you had some items to be valued?’ she said, thinking that as it was way too late for regrets she’d better get on with it.
‘I do.’
‘For insurance?’
‘Probate.’
‘Oh,’ she murmured. ‘I’m sorry.’
He shrugged and his mouth twisted into what she presumed was supposed to resemble a smile. ‘Just one of the many formalities to get through.’
Hmm. That wasn’t quite what she’d meant, but his relationship with the deceased was none of her business. Or, to be honest, of nearly as much interest as what he’d brought her to value. She might have forged a career designing jewellery, but her first love would always lie with gemmology.
Bella’s mouth watered as tiny thrills of anticipation began to course through her. ‘May I see?’
He reached into his pocket, drew something from its depths and then leaned forwards and held it out to her.
She lowered her gaze and her breath hitched in her throat.
Oh, good Lord.
Catching her lip with her teeth, she took the ring from him, so mesmerised by its beauty that she barely noticed the tingles that rippled along her fingers when they brushed against his.
Utterly transfixed, she twisted the ring one way, then the other, and stifled a sigh of longing. She’d never seen anything quite so magnificent. The emerald-cut diamond solitaire was set in the platinum band and sparkled in the weak sun that had briefly broken through the heavy grey cloud of the autumnal afternoon and bathed the room. The stone had to be three carats at least. And flawless, judging by the perfect symmetry of the shards of light that were flashing all across the table.
‘So what do you think?’
Yes, she thought as her heart twanged. Oh, yes. If—no, when—she got engaged she’d love something like this.
‘It’s beautiful,’ she murmured, unable to stop the trace of wistfulness that crept into her voice.
‘I couldn’t care less what it looks like,’ Will said flatly. ‘I’m only interested in what it’s worth.’
Bella jerked her eyes up to his and her little daydreamy bubble burst with a splat. What? How could anyone with an ounce of feeling in them be unmoved by such a beautiful thing?
Keeping her jaw firmly where it was instead of letting it drop in appal as it was threatening to do, she gave herself a quick shake. His attitude towards the ring was none of her business either, however much of a shame she thought it.
No. He was simply here for a valuation, not a lecture on gemmological appreciation. And from the tension currently radiating off him he was unlikely to welcome her opinions on the vast superiority of sentimental value over material worth.
Maybe he didn’t have an ounce of feeling, she decided, picking up her loupe and holding it to her eye. Maybe he hated the stuff. Certainly something about the tight set of his jaw told her he wasn’t the sentimental type. In fact he looked like the weary cynical type, and if that was the case he was definitely not her type, however gorgeous.
Firmly switching her attention to the ring, Bella turned it in her fingers. Examined it. Tilted it. Held it closer. Felt a stab of bewilderment and paused. Hmm. That was odd.
Perhaps there was something amiss with her loupe. Or her eyesight. Or maybe it was simply that with Will’s gaze fixed on her as he watched her at work, her fingers felt as thick and as useless as sausages and her head felt as if it had been well and truly scrambled.
‘Is something wrong?’
Very. On a number of levels. Lowering the loupe and hoping her concerns didn’t show on her face, she glanced up at him. ‘Would you mind if I did another test?’
‘Be my guest.’
Bella rummaged around in the drawer for her touchstone and gently rubbed the ring against it. Then she added a drop of liquid and observed the results. Well, that was something to be thankful for, she supposed. ‘Did you bring anything else for me to take a look at?’
He nodded, dug his hands into the pockets of his coat and spilled the contents on the table. As he did so his sleeves inched up and Bella’s gaze instinctively dropped to his wrists. Her mouth dried. Tanned, strong and sprinkled with a smattering of fine dark hairs, they were completely mouth-watering. Up until now she’d never really thought a man’s wrists particularly worthy of attention. Now they’d shot straight into the top five. Or at least Will’s had.
Unable to help herself she slid her gaze to his hands and was instantly assaulted by the vision of those hands roaming all over her, exploring her, lingering and seeking, the long brown fingers delving and probing as they roused her. The vision was so vivid, so real, that Bella’s temperature rocketed and her heart thundered.
Oh, this really had to stop. She’d never been so distracted. Certainly not when jewellery was in the picture. And right now, with the discovery she’d just made, she really couldn’t afford to be.
Dredging up every ounce of concentration she possessed, Bella swallowed hard and turned her attention to the tangle of pieces piled on the table.
God, they were exquisite. And if genuine, worth a fortune.
‘May I?’ she said, casting a quick glance up at him.
‘By all means.’
She picked up an art deco sapphire and diamond brooch and caught her breath. She put it back down and let a gold and emerald necklace slither through her fingers. Feeling like a child in a sweetshop, she felt her heart start pounding with anticipation. She’d never seen jewellery like it. Probably wouldn’t ever again. If there was more where these pieces came from Will Cameron would have quite a collection.
Assuming of course that her suspicions didn’t turn out to be correct.
As the excitement winding through her turned to trepidation Bella found a newer loupe in the drawer and braced herself to examine the rest.
Piece by piece, she performed the same tests. Taking her time as she scrutinised each item. Telling herself that she wanted to be sure, that she wasn’t stalling.
But she was. Just a little. Because with every passing minute her heart sank a little further.
As she put the last piece back down Bella stifled a sigh. She didn’t know who she was more disappointed for—herself for having had her illusions shattered or Will, who was only interested in the value of the objects and was, in all likelihood, going to be devastated.
‘Well?’ he said, arching an eyebrow.
‘I’m afraid I can’t give these a value,’ she said cautiously. At least not the sort of value he was after.
‘Why not?’
There was no way she could skirt around it. No way she could soften the blow. She could only hope that he wasn’t the type of man to shoot the messenger.
Making herself look him in the eye, she took a deep breath and said, ‘Because they’re synthetic.’
CHAPTER TWO
SYNTHETIC?
Will tensed. Impossible. They couldn’t be. He must have misheard. Been distracted by the effect Bella appeared to be having on him or something. Because she was certainly distracting.
The minute he’d laid eyes on her, standing there stock still, staring at him from inside her shop, he’d clocked