couldn’t wait to see the Thunderbolt, even if it meant a two-hour drive alone with him.
“Haven’t seen much of you,” he commented as they pulled onto the main road.
“Haven’t seen much of you, either,” she returned, gauging his tone, wondering how to read him and annoyed that she felt the need to try.
He shrugged. “Had work to do.”
“Me, too.” She did have a life. It wasn’t as if she’d been pining away, wondering if he regretted their lovemaking, or if he’d found any likely Susie Homemakers to take her place.
“Have I done something to annoy you?” he asked.
Did he mean other than announce to his family that he was finding a “real” wife just as soon as he dumped her?
“I’m not annoyed,” she said.
“So this is the level you’ve picked for our relationship?”
The level
He shrugged, flipping on his right signal and leaving the gravel road behind in favor of the four-lane interstate. “You must admit, it all turned on a dime there after Katie got in the loop.”
“Ah.” Sydney nodded, wishing she could control the jealousy cresting in her veins. “So you did want more sex.”
He twisted his head to look at her. “Excuse me?”
“Sorry about that. I guess I did turn off the tap all of a sudden.”
His eyes narrowed, and he glanced to the highway and back to her again. “Was there a particular reason you backed off?”
She shrugged. No reason that was remotely logical, just a horrible, kicked-in-the-gut feeling when he’d rejected her. “We didn’t need to pretend anymore,” she said.
“You mean, the Thunderbolt was in the bag.”
“Yeah. Right. Something like that.” She turned her head to look out the window.
“I see.”
“Okay.”
“Fine.” He pressed on the accelerator and turned up the radio.
Neither of them spoke until they hit Wichita Falls.
At a traffic light in the heart of downtown, Cole turned on the left turn signal and waited for a space in traffic. “This is it.”
Despite his brooding presence, Sydney’s stomach leaped in anticipation. “Which one?”
He pointed to a tall, gray office tower as he angled into a parking spot in front.
Sydney scanned the building. This was it. The treasure of a lifetime was waiting inside for her. Despite her anger with Cole, she felt like a kid on Christmas morning.
They entered the building and took an elevator to the tenth floor. The brass sign on the oversize office doors read Neely And Smythe, Attorneys-At-Law.
“Auspicious,” said Sydney.
“It’s been the family firm for four generations.”
“And the Thunderbolt’s been here the whole time?”
“Most of it.”
“I’m getting goose bumps.”
As he opened the door, Cole gave her his first smile in three days.
It felt good. Way too good. Pathetically good.
She preceded him into the reception area, and a smiling brunette woman greeted them warmly. She sat behind a marble counter in a room decorated with leather furniture and fine art.
“Mr. Neely can see you right away,” she said to Cole.
Cole moved to open another doorway that took them to a private hall.
A balding man met them at the far end of the hallway. He shook hands with Cole then turned to Sydney. “Joseph Neely.” He offered his hand to her. “I understand you’re here to see the Thunderbolt.”
“I am,” she agreed. “Sydney Wainsbrook.”
“I enjoy an excuse to look at it myself,” he said, turning his key in the lock and pushing the door inward.
“It’s pretty exciting,” she admitted.
“I’ll leave you two alone then.” Joseph Neely gestured to the interior of the office.
Sydney went in first, blinking to adjust her vision to the dimmer light.
Cole came in behind her and pointed to a round, mahogany meeting table.
She followed his signal and everything inside her turned still. Laid majestically out on a purple, velvet cloth, was the Thunderbolt of the North. The brooch of kings. The stuff of legends.
Sydney sucked in a breath. It was large, boldly crafted, magnificent in every way. The polished-gold lightning bolt was scattered almost randomly with rubies, emeralds and diamonds. It was big. It was audacious. It was everything she’d ever hoped for.
She circled it, running her fingers across the soft cloth, letting them get close, but not touching the treasure. “You are one lucky man,” she said in a reverent, husky voice.
His voice was equally hushed. “Sometimes I think so.”
“This is the thrill of a lifetime.”
“You can touch it, you know.”
She rubbed her fingertips together, sensitizing them. Then she leaned in ever so slowly, resting her hips against the edge of the table.
After a long minute she dared to touch the bottom point of the brooch.
She immediately snatched her hand back, a chill creeping into her veins. She felt it again, and her world came to a screeching halt.
“Cole?” she ventured slowly, stomach clenching.
“Yeah?” He’d moved closer, but his voice seemed to come from a long way off.
She tested the bottom diamond one more time and her heart went flat, dead cold.
“This is a fake.”
“Don’t be absurd,” said Cole, studying Sydney’s shocked expression.
“It’s a fake,” she repeated more passionately.
“Right,” Cole drawled, glancing down at the brooch. Somebody had bypassed the alarm and broken into the lawyer’s safe to reproduce the Thunderbolt without anyone noticing. That was likely.
“When was it last appraised?”
Cole tried to figure out where she was going with this.
“When?” she demanded.
“It’s been closely guarded for hundreds of years.” The odds of it being a fake were ridiculously slim.
Had Kyle been right about her? Was this some kind of an elaborate con?
“What are you up to?” he demanded.
“I’m
“Uh, huh.” He struggled to figure out her angle. How she could turn this little ruse to her advantage?
She pointed to the brooch. “See those diamonds? The little ones on the points?”
He glanced down. “Sure.”
“They’re cut.”
“So what?”
“So, nobody faceted diamonds until the fourteenth century. They didn’t have the tools. The process hadn’t been invented. I don’t know who made this brooch, but it sure wasn’t the ancient Vikings.”
Cole’s gaze shot back to the Thunderbolt. He’d seen it dozens of times. It looked the same. It always looked the same.
But she was sounding alarmingly credible, and he couldn’t for the life of him figure out how lying about its authenticity would help her get her hands on it. His stomach sank. He had to allow for the possibility that she was telling the truth.
