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