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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.’
‘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.
‘I thought you said you had business to attend to today.’
‘I did.’
Bella stared at both of them, curiosity stabbing at her brain. Who exactly was this and what was going on?
‘So what are you doing here?’ asked Caroline.
‘Checking up on my assets.’
A flicker of apprehension leapt in her eyes and then vanished. ‘Really?’ she said with a demure nonchalance that Bella had to admire.
‘Really.’ Will nodded, but didn’t take his gaze off her and Bella was glad she wasn’t on the receiving end of that stare. For despite her best efforts to remain cool and unperturbed, the poor woman was beginning to look as if she were being skewered to the spot. Having spent the entire afternoon in Will’s disturbing company, Bella rather knew how she felt. ‘And what are you doing here?’ he said.
Evidently something she shouldn’t be, thought Bella, what with all the tension and the undercurrents flowing around the place. It was becoming pretty obvious who was responsible for tampering with the jewellery, and if she’d been in Caroline’s shoes, she’d have gone white and then bright red, mumbled something about just being passing and then dashed off.
Caroline, however, was clearly made of sterner stuff. She merely waved a vague hand and smiled. ‘Oh, you know,’ she said airily. ‘Just popping in to take a quick look. I thought I might borrow something for the—ah—charity gala I’m attending tomorrow night.’
‘I see.’ Will nodded and for one brief moment Bella thought he was going to leave it at that.
As did Caroline, judging by the way her shoulders relaxed a little. ‘So please don’t let me keep you.’
‘You aren’t.’ Will paused. Ran his hand along his jaw as if in deep thought and then said in a voice that was dangerously low and icily controlled, ‘By the way, this is Bella. Bella’s a jeweller.’
‘How absolutely fascinating,’ murmured Caroline, sounding as if she thought it was quite the opposite, but darting a quick smile in Bella’s direction nevertheless.
‘It has been. She’s been valuing the collection … ‘ He tilted his head but didn’t take his eyes off her. ‘She’s been carrying out checks and tests and all kinds of other things.’
In the long seconds of silence that followed, during which horrified realisation gradually dawned in Caroline’s eyes and the blood drained from her face, Bella couldn’t help feeling another flash of sympathy.
‘Ah,’ the blonde murmured eventually. ‘I see.’ There was another tension-laden pause. ‘Good at her job, is she?’
‘The best.’ Will unfolded his arms and took a step forwards. ‘Caroline,’ he said in a voice that brooked no argument and made Bella tingle in a highly disconcerting fashion, ‘I think we need to have a chat.’
Caroline blinked. Probably would have frowned had her forehead allowed. ‘Do we?’
Will stopped nodded. ‘We do.’
‘Well, if you absolutely insist, Will,’ she said, lifting her chin and flashing him a tight smile. ‘But perhaps later.’ She glanced at her watch. ‘I’m in a terrible hurry.’
‘Now.’ The word cracked through the air like a whip, and Bella jumped. Oh, this showdown was going to be explosive, she thought with a shuddery little thrill.
‘Ah,’ said Caroline, glancing over her shoulder and edging back towards the entrance to the vault. ‘Well, now really isn’t all that convenient.’
‘Too bad,’ he snapped.
And barely before Bella could figure out what was going on, Will was springing forwards, gripping Caroline’s elbow and marching her out of the vault, leaving Bella standing there, open-mouthed in astonishment as she watched them disappear down the corridor.
CHAPTER FOUR
WELL, that had to be one of the oddest conversations he’d ever had, thought Will, climbing into his car twenty minutes later and slamming the door.
Once he’d got her alone, Caroline had had no option but to tell him everything he wanted to know. He hadn’t even had to push all that hard; she might have started reluctantly, but once she’d got into her stride she hadn’t been able to stop. In fact, the more she’d talked, the more Will had had the impression she’d actually found it something of a relief to be able to unburden herself.
Nevertheless, the ease with which she poured it all out didn’t make what she’d had to say any less startling, or any less forgivable.
Will sank back against the leather and rubbed a hand over his face as his mind ran over his aunt’s confession.
Apparently she’d been sneaking into the bank every week for the past six months, switching the jewellery one piece at a time.
Apparently she’d been bored.
And lonely.
Which, to be honest, had astounded him. As far as he’d been able to gather in the two months he’d been back, Caroline drifted from one social engagement to another, more often than not with a quick visit to her plastic surgeon in between.
If he’d taken the trouble to think about it he wouldn’t have imagined she’d have had the time to be bored or lonely.
Or, for that matter, to become addicted to online bridge.
But she had. With a vengeance and a complete absence of talent.
At first she’d more or less broken even. But as the addiction had taken hold, her bank balance simply hadn’t been able to keep up. Once her own funds had run out, she’d gone to the bank for a loan, and then, when her debts had begun to mount up, she’d hit upon the idea of selling the stones in the collection to both pay them off and facilitate her ongoing habit.
Stunned—because he hadn’t known his aunt had even heard of the internet, let alone knew how to log on and embroil herself in the world of online gaming—Will had muttered that it was a good thing he’d flown back before she’d managed to get her hands on the Caravaggios. At which point Caroline had flashed her eyes at him and pointed out that caring for his cantankerous father hadn’t exactly been a picnic, and he ought be grateful she hadn’t sought refuge in alcohol or drugs or unsuitable men.
Swamped by an unwelcome and unexpected deluge of guilt at the realisation that by dashing off to the other side of the world he had left her to deal with his father’s moodiness pretty much non-stop for the past thirteen years, Will had promised to clear her debts as soon as he got home, on the condition that she never logged on again.
With relief shining in her eyes, she’d thanked him, told him he was a good man, and scarpered.
The car pulled out into a gap in the traffic and Will closed his eyes briefly and pinched the bridge of his nose, his stomach churning as memories and guilt assailed him from all directions.
A good man?
Yeah, right.
He wasn’t a good man. If he were a good man, he wouldn’t have left his aunt to deal with his father by herself. He’d have stuck around instead of escaping everything by emigrating to the Cayman Islands.
If he were a good man he’d have swallowed back his bitterness and been on a plane the minute he’d heard his father was ill. He’d have come back for the funeral at least, instead of telling himself it wasn’t a convenient time.
If he really were a good man he’d never have weakened and given in to a moment’s temptation all those years ago.
At the very least he wouldn’t have abandoned his manners for an entire afternoon.
The unfamiliar sense of shame that had spun through him when, moments before disappearing, his aunt had suggested he might want to go and see if Bella was all right jabbed him in the chest all over again.
Because as much as it annoyed him, actually Caroline had had a point. He really shouldn’t have stormed out and left her standing there, undoubtedly thinking him arrogant and cursing him to heaven and back.
And she’d be perfectly justified to do exactly that on both fronts, because come to think of it, he reflected as he rubbed a hand over his face and sighed, none of his behaviour had been exactly exemplary this afternoon. After demanding she accompany him to the bank he’d then spent the journey there ignoring her. And then she’d asked him about his possible contributions to the collection and he’d sat there brooding and tight-jawed as he charged off down a traumatic memory lane while all she’d been doing was expressing an interest.
Yes, he’d been disconcerted by the effect she had on him, and yes, he’d then been poleaxed by the appearance of his aunt at the bank, and what it had to mean, but that was no excuse for abandoning civility. He hadn’t even thanked her for helping him out this afternoon.
No wonder by the time he’d made it back to the vault to apologise for dashing off quite so unthinkingly she’d vanished. If it had been him, he wouldn’t have hung around either.
Inwardly cringing at his uncharacteristically callous behaviour, Will was struck once more by the need to remedy the situation and shot upright.
By now, he reasoned, frowning as he pulled his phone from the pocket of his coat, Bella would be on her way home, and who knew where that was? So all he could do was give her a call to apologise and thank her profusely for her help this afternoon, and hope she’d accept his grovelling.
And, with any luck, that would be that, he thought, his head beginning to ache as this afternoon’s unexpected string of events ricocheted around his brain. His conscience would be clear, the weirdly distasteful notion that Bella might think him arrogant would be appeased, and today, thank heavens, would be over.
Scrolling through his list of contacts to find her number, Will glanced out of the window at the driving rain and hoped she’d managed to find a taxi, because frankly he didn’t think his conscience could cope with the idea of her having to battle the weather on top of everything else.
And then out of the corner of his eye he caught the flash of fuchsia pink and as his stomach plummeted he realised she hadn’t and it was going to have to.
Because there she was, striding along the pavement, holding her equipment case on her head, bending forwards against the rain, glowering at the ground and looking as if she was muttering to herself.
Narrowing his eyes as he watched her and feeling another stab of guilt attack his conscience, Will abandoned his phone and stuffed it back in his pocket. He couldn’t ignore her. Not again. Not when he still owed her an apology.
Gritting his teeth, he leaned forward to tell Bob to slow down and pull over, because offering her a lift home was the least he could do.
It would have to be raining, wouldn’t it? thought Bella glumly, trudging along the street to the nearest Tube stop and trying to avoid the puddles.
If only she’d brought her umbrella. If only she’d been wearing a mackintosh and wellies instead of a cashmere coat and brand-new suede boots. If only she’d been able to find a taxi. But free taxis in central London when it was pouring with rain were as rare as pink diamonds.
As, apparently, were manners in peers of the realm.
The wind flapped at the bottom of her coat, chilling her knees, and the indignation that had surged through her the minute she’d found herself alone in the vault flooded back.
How could Will have just left her there without so much as a ‘thank you for your help’ or a ‘would you mind seeing yourself out?’ How could he have forgotten about her quite so comprehensively the second something more interesting and important had come along? So clearly Caroline had been up to no good, and of course Will would have wanted to get to the bottom of it, but he could have said something.
But had he? No. Once she’d served her purpose he’d barely spared her a second thought. He’d simply marched off, Caroline in tow, on top of everything else depriving her of the showdown she’d been looking forward to.
Rain trickled down her collar and she swore beneath her breath. Huh. What exactly had he expected her to do? Hang round like some sort of minion until he deigned to come back? If he’d deigned to come back? Or hadn’t she even crossed his mind?
She scowled down at the shiny wet pavement. It was so rude. And OK, so Will was a duke, but that didn’t give him the right to dismiss lesser mortals with quite such ease.
But perhaps that was typical of someone like him, she thought darkly, hopping to one side to avoid a puddle the size of the Mediterranean as her mind ran over the events of the afternoon.
He hadn’t exactly asked if she’d been free to accompany him to the bank, had he, the arrogant man? He’d just assumed. Commandeered her entire afternoon and then once he’d got what he wanted had unceremoniously ditched her.
At some point this afternoon she’d clearly lost her mind. Because what on earth had she been thinking, dropping everything she’d been planning on working on today and following Will like some kind of soppy smitten fool?
Usually she worked to a strict timetable. Usually she prioritised. Usually she never pushed things aside when something better came along. She liked to think she was more professional and better organised than that.
But what had she done this afternoon? Let herself be carried away by a very well-packaged man with an intriguing jewellery problem.
And to think that up until the point he’d stormed out, she’d actually been finding all that pent-up iciness, all that glowering and glinting and frowning, attractive. To think that Will had been exuding unyielding alpha maleness from every pore and she had been a hair’s breadth away from swooning. God. She’d always believed she’d abhorred that kind of attitude, yet there she’d been, quivering with lust and wondering what it would be like to have all that passion directed at her. So what kind of a perverse idiot did that make her?
Catching sight of the Tube sign, Bella quickened her pace, her heart thumping wildly with every step.
And who was this Caroline woman with her frozen face and fabulous wardrobe anyway? Will hadn’t bothered to introduce them so for all Bella knew she could be his wife. Stumbling on a loose paving stone and accidentally planting her foot in a puddle, she felt water seep through to her toes and her resentment tripled.
