“As you can see, it’s not going so well.”
“Need a hand?”
His expression of good cheer didn’t fool her for an instant. “No thanks.”
He licked his lips. She ignored a tiny flare of heat in her belly. “I’ve been thinking.”
Uh-oh.
He picked up a china cat off the nightstand and turned it over, as if to read the maker’s mark on the bottom.
Probably said Wal-Mart.
“I should take the jewels to Breathley Brothers in St. George. They deal in fine historic gems, and they can do an up-to-date appraisal that incorporates provenance. I do have paperwork for many of the pieces, after all.”
“And there I was, thinking you came here to help me clean.” She put her hands on her hips. “I was just about to ask you to help me scrub the bathroom floor.”
His dimples appeared. “Celia would do a better job of that. I can send her over, if you like. I’m not sure I’d even fit in that bathroom.”
An image of Naldo’s big, bronzed body squeezed into the tiny shower stall assaulted her imagination.
He took a step forward and his rich male scent crept up on her. “I want our arrangement to be completely fair.”
Fair? Nothing about this was fair. For a start it wasn’t fair that Naldo always had such a discombobulating effect on her.
The image in her mind shifted into deeper focus. Thick droplets of warm water cascading over the hair- roughened skin of his powerful thighs.
She inhaled sharply. “Maybe I could take them.”
His brows lowered. “Perhaps we could go together.”
“When?”
“Right now.” He crossed his arms, in a gesture matching hers. His thick forearms tugged at the front of his black shirt, pulling it tighter over his well-developed pecs.
She crossed her arms higher to cover the tightening of her naughty nipples.
“I guess I’d better get changed.”
“I don’t know why. I think you look lovely like that.”
“I’m not sure your snooty jeweler will agree. They probably frown on cutoffs.”
“Let them frown all they want; they won’t turn away my business.” His lips lifted into a half smile.
So true. An old name and even older money guaranteed you the best of everything. Naldo had probably never heard the word no in his life.
“I’ll change anyway.”
“I’ll watch.” His eyes narrowed as his smile broadened.
“You will not!” Her protest accompanied a curl of heat in her belly. The thought of those dangerous dark eyes on her, appraising, admiring…
“Wait downstairs.”
Naldo pouted slightly before turning for the stairs. He ducked, stooping his broad shoulders as he went down the tiny staircase.
Her nipples stung as she slid her T-shirt over them, and her panties were already damp. Just being in the room with Naldo made her pant like a preteen at a rock concert.
How was she supposed to stand the half-hour drive to St. George cooped up in his tiny car with him?
She needed a chastity belt.
And the next best thing was a dress from her mother’s closet. Surely she wouldn’t think lusty thoughts if she was wearing clothes that belonged to her mom. She flipped past a pretty floral dress and a low-backed white one, then lifted a splashy polka-dot number from its hanger.
Perfect. It was the kind of thing that only her mom could pull off. Naldo would certainly be too weirded out to give her any smoldering looks in this.
Six
Naldo frowned as Anna emerged through the front door, jewel box in hand, to where he paced on the lawn. “You’re wearing that?”
“You don’t like it?” She did a twirl, which caused the polka-dotted skirt to flare out around her.
“It’s okay, it’s just that you look like…”
Your mother.
The unspoken words crackled in the air.
Her mother had loved patterns, bright colors, girly details. A stark contrast to Anna’s own preference for pastels and simple sheath dresses. The fitted forties-style dress was a size too big, but with the belt cinched in it looked…festive.
The look of distress on Naldo’s face gave her a warm glow of satisfaction.
“Do that again,” he said, with an unreadable expression.
“What?”
“Twirl.”
She twirled, hoping to see consternation furrow his majestic brow again.
She was annoyed to confront a smug look of satisfaction.
“Suits you.” He strode to his Alfa Romeo and tugged open the passenger-side door. “You should show off your shape more often.”
Anna bristled with irritation as she lowered herself into the seat and strapped herself in, nipples thrumming inside the fitted bodice of her mother’s dress.
After he returned from his house with the papers, Naldo’s eyes fell to the wooden box cradled in her lap. “Why don’t you put one of the pieces on? That dress could use some earrings.”
“No thanks. I don’t want to get attached.” She shot him a loaded glance.
His lips quirked into a smile. “Understandable.”
During the drive they chatted, mostly about the estate and Naldo’s plans to improve and upgrade using the latest technology and scientific research. Anna answered his questions about her work with genuine enthusiasm- she’d been damn good at it, after all-and managed to deflect his curiosity about her future plans with blurry answers and more questions for him.
It was cute how he could talk about his beloved estate and its people and places for hours. His love for them was obviously deep, ingrained and heartfelt. What would it be like to have a man care about you with that kind of intensity?
She tore her eyes from his proud profile. She knew better than to entertain any thoughts about Naldo loving her. That was the road to heartbreak.
Naldo parked in front of an elegant Queen Anne house in a leafy part of St. George. The jeweler was so low- profile that they didn’t even use a sign. Naldo had called ahead on his cell, and they were greeted at the door by a young man in a white linen suit, who was on a first-name basis with Naldo.
Was this a setup? Had Naldo roped some friend of his into pretending to be a jeweler? Was he going to provide a false, low valuation so he could buy the gems back on the cheap?
Suspicious thoughts crept around her mind as she climbed the wide, deep steps of the house, her polka-dot skirt draping around her knees.
The man in the white suit ushered them into a cool, shady drawing room filled with Victorian antiques and offered them iced tea. Naldo refused, but Anna accepted a glass, then wished she hadn’t when more wary thoughts sneaked over her.
Is it poisoned? Drugged? Is this part of Naldo’s cunning plot to be rid of me once and for all?
The increasingly lunatic direction of her thoughts, and the fact that she was wearing what amounted to a fancy-dress costume, suddenly struck her as hilarious. She was struggling not to laugh out loud when a tall, slim,
