Say It With Diamonds (14 page)

Slowly she nodded. ‘I can.’ With a little help. And then she frowned. ‘When exactly does it all have to be ready?’

‘The opening night is two weeks on Friday, so ideally that morning at the latest.’

Bella gulped as her stomach twisted with nerves. It would be tight, but if she sidelined her principles and all her other projects she should be able to do it. In fact, the increase in workload would no doubt make her forget the fact that the Friday he was talking about was her birthday, which would be a bonus. ‘OK.’

‘Good,’ he said with a quick smile as he got to his feet and put the plates and cups in the sink. ‘Then I’ll bring the pieces over tomorrow.’

Oh. Bella stared up at him as he plucked his jacket off the back of his chair. That didn’t sound so good. It was one thing trying to move on with her life and her goals when Will was nowhere to be seen, quite another if he intended to carry on popping up unexpectedly.

Never mind, she thought, trying not to notice the sliver of taut tanned abdomen between the bottom of his jumper and the waistband of his jeans that the shrugging on of his jacket revealed. Once he’d brought over the jewellery and she’d started to work on it, there’d be no reason for him to pop up anywhere, unexpectedly or otherwise. She could keep him updated on her progress by email and courier the pieces directly to the museum.

‘Fine,’ she murmured, standing up, heading for the front door and opening it, taking care to plaster herself against the wall so that no part of him could touch her.

Will stepped out onto the landing and fished his car keys out of his pocket.

‘No Bob?’ she said, letting out a breath before glancing down and then back up at him.

‘Sadly not. Sunday is his day off. Sundays I have to fend for myself.’

At the look of distress in his eyes, Bella couldn’t help laughing. ‘Poor baby.’

Will went still and Bella’s laughter died in her throat as the distress vanished and something hotter, darker, flickered in their navy depths. Her mouth went unaccountably dry and her pulse began to hammer.

‘I know,’ he said softly. ‘I don’t know how I cope.’

For a long second everything seemed to stop. All Bella was aware of was a kind of throbbing electric tension vibrating between the two of them. His gaze dipped to her mouth and she thought he leaned forwards a little.

Her heart thumped and her blood heated. Oh, God. Was he going to kiss her? What would she do if he did? Slap him across the face? Or wrap her arms around him and kiss him back? Or maybe both … Because as much as she’d tried to convince herself otherwise, and as nuts as it would be, she did want another taste of him, another long slow taste of that passion that he’d shown her last night.

And then just when she was wondering what would happen if she gave into the madness and threw herself into his arms, Will was drawing back and giving her a little smile, and Bella felt as if she were the one who’d been slapped in the face.

‘I’ll see you tomorrow,’ he said gruffly, turning on his heel and disappearing down the stairs.

CHAPTER TEN

B
Y THE
time the opening night rolled around Bella was a jumble of nerves and exhaustion and a whole lot more besides.

The last three weeks had been testing to say the least. Not only had she been working flat out to get the pieces ready for tonight, but the memory of the kiss that Will hadn’t given her outside her front door had been haunting her dreams.

In her dreams, however, he didn’t stalk off and leave her quivering on the landing, desperate and frustrated. In her dreams he whisked her back inside her flat and carried her into her bedroom. In her dreams he peeled her clothes off and tied her to her wrought-iron bed-head and then used his mouth and hands and body to torment her until she was shaking and quivering and delirious with pleasure.

Sometimes the journey from her door to her bed varied: sometimes they went straight there, sometimes they detoured via the shower. Sometimes she changed the colour of the silk scarves and who was doing the tying up. But the outcome was always the same, and night after night she woke up hot and bothered and trembling with desire.

And as if the nights weren’t bad enough, Will had invaded her thoughts during daylight hours as well. She’d lost track of conversations, mislaid bits of jewellery and frequently drifted off, gazing into the distance, until something snapped her
back to her senses and she’d discovered that half the morning had gone.

It didn’t help that he’d taken to dropping in on her every other day or so to find out how she was getting on. When she’d protested that he really didn’t need to bother, he’d pointed out that the integrity of the collection was at stake and he was spending a small fortune on the replacement stones, so why wouldn’t he want to bother? She hadn’t had an adequate comeback to that, so she’d had to bear his visits as coolly and stoically as she could manage.

At first she’d succeeded in keeping things strictly business. She’d shown him the progress she was making, and they’d discussed the collection and how it could be displayed to show off the genuine pieces to their best advantage and minimise the risk of anyone spotting the repairs.

But over the course of the last two weeks, somehow they’d ended up talking less about the work and more about other things. Personal things.

She’d found herself telling him about her peripatetic childhood and the colourful characters that had peppered her upbringing. About how, instead of doing her homework, she’d learned to pick locks, forge cheques and hot-wire cars. Far from being appalled, as she’d rather feared, Will had been fascinated and so, encouraged, she’d gone on to tell him all about her mother and her wildly misspent youth and about how she now lived quietly in Truro, kept goats and grew herbs.

She told him how thanks to a family friend she’d got into the jewellery business and how much, after growing up surrounded by people who lied for a living, she valued honesty.

In return Will had told her about what Caroline had been getting up to online and what he got up to on the Cayman Islands. He’d regaled her with stories about some of the things
his
dodgy ancestors had got up to and had told her about the dukedom he’d inherited.

Gradually the cool, stoical air she’d adopted to deal with his visits had disappeared and she’d found herself looking forward to them instead. Clock-watching as she’d waited for him to drop by. Aching with disappointment the days he didn’t, which had become increasingly frequent recently. The disproportionate intensity of her reaction when he didn’t come was as disconcerting as the fact she’d taken to clock-watching in the first place.

Which was almost as unsettling as the dawning realisation that she didn’t only fancy him rotten; she liked him as well. Really liked him. And liking him as well as fancying him was the sort of dangerously lethal combination that could easily erode her resistance if she wasn’t careful.

And that was why she’d spent the whole day dithering over whether to come this evening. Why she’d been pacing around her flat, frowning at the floor as she tried to work out what was going on inside her head, and what she was going to do about it.

In the end, unable to figure anything sensible out and with barely half an hour before the launch started, she’d told herself to stop being such a wimp and had pulled herself together.

So she might have to fortify her resistance and strengthen her resolve, but how could she not have come? For one thing she’d been working on this to the exclusion of all else, and was desperate to see the results of three weeks of hard slog. For another, she was longing to know if they’d got away with it.

Besides, it was her birthday and she hadn’t come up with anything else to do, and despite her previous determination to bury herself beneath her duvet and forget about it, she hadn’t really wanted to do that. At least not when there’d been the
chance to see Will one last time before their association came to an end.

So she’d whirled round her flat like a dervish, taking a shower, doing her hair, slapping on some make-up and throwing on a dress and shoes, and now here she was. Leaning over a display case that contained two of the pieces she’d restored, champagne glass in hand, and trying not to respond to the feel of the pair of gorgeous blue eyes that had been boring into her back ever since she’d arrived five minutes ago.

‘Happy birthday, Bells.’

Bella jumped, straightened and swung round to see Phoebe standing beside her, a slight frown creasing her forehead and her smile a little strained.

‘Thank you,’ she said and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek, wondering what was up and hoping it wasn’t anything to do with the wedding plans.

‘You know,’ said Phoebe, ‘I was going to say that I’m glad you’re doing something on your birthday, but now I’m not so sure. Now I think it might have been better if you’d holed up in your flat and forgotten all about it like you said you were going to in your email.’

‘And miss the chance to get all dolled up, drink champagne and catch up with colleagues?’ said Bella with a grin. ‘I don’t think so.’

‘Well, as long as that’s all you’re planning on doing,’ said Phoebe, folding her arms across her chest and arching an eyebrow.

Huh? Bella blinked. ‘What?’

‘Don’t give me that innocent blink thing.’ Phoebe narrowed her eyes. ‘What’s going on between you and Will?’

Uh-oh. Bella’s heart lurched. ‘What makes you think there’s anything going on between me and Will?’ she said cagily.

‘I can tell.’

‘How?’ she asked, glancing over at him standing there talking to Alex, and her breath catching all over again.

God, he was gorgeous. The breadth of his shoulders, the lean powerful body clad in a dark suit, and the magnetic energy he radiated never failed to scramble her senses. The sheer impact he made on her, the pull he seemed to exert over her, which was even stronger now that she knew so much more about him, was almost irresistible. ‘We haven’t even spoken.’

‘You don’t need to. I’ve been watching the two of you for the last five minutes and you can’t take your eyes off each other.’

Bella bit her lip. That much was true. It was as if she had some kind of built-in radar where Will was concerned. The minute she’d arrived her gaze had instantly zoomed in on him and ever since she’d been aware of where he was, just as she’d been achingly aware that he’d been watching her.

But he hadn’t come over to say hello, and something about the set of his jaw, and the dark expression on his face, made her wary of going up to him. Given the circumstances of their association, she figured, distance was probably for the best.

‘You’re circling each other like sharks,’ Phoebe said, frowning in consternation. ‘Please, please,
please
tell me you’re not thinking what I think you’re thinking.’

‘OK,’ said Bella, nodding slowly and sliding her gaze back to her friend, ‘I’m not thinking what you think I’m thinking.’ In fact she wasn’t sure quite what she was thinking.

Phoebe let out a little wail and Bella had the impression had she not been wearing three inch heels she’d have stamped her foot. ‘Oh, I knew it. I just
knew
it. What a complete and utter mess. I could have killed Alex when he told me he’d given Will your number.’

Bella blinked. ‘Why?’

‘Because I knew he’d fancy you. And vice versa. Why do
you think I haven’t introduced you before? Will is
no
good for you.’

‘I think he might be very good for me.’

She’d meant it as a throwaway comment, but the minute the words left her lips her heart began to hammer and she realised it was true. She might have managed to deny it for the last three interminable weeks, but she couldn’t any longer. She wanted him. Badly. She was so desperate with the need to finish what they’d started on the back seat of his car that she thought she might die with the ache of it.

So Will wouldn’t be any good for her in the long-term, but a part of her was beginning not to care. This foolhardy, reckless and increasingly insistent part of her was wondering whether she wasn’t being a bit melodramatic about the whole thing. Wondering whether she shouldn’t sling her long-term aims to one side, give in and go for a short hot fling. It didn’t have to detract from her long-term goals, did it? And besides, it was her birthday. Didn’t she deserve a little fun?

‘No,’ said Phoebe fiercely. ‘He wouldn’t. He’d be disastrous. Yes, he might be the most gorgeous man—after Alex, of course—to walk the planet, but he doesn’t do long-term and he definitely doesn’t do commitment.’

‘I know.’

Phoebe went still and her eyebrows shot up. ‘You do? But … ‘ Her face fell. ‘Oh, God. I’m too late, aren’t I?’

‘I’m afraid so.’

‘But he only does flings.’

‘Short and hot, I understand.’

‘Yes, by all accounts, but—’

‘Well, that’s good, then,’ said Bella, draining her glass and setting it down on a table, ‘because that’s exactly what I want. An extremely short, extremely scorching fling.’

‘You don’t.’

‘I do.’ God, she really did.

‘Bella, listen to me,’ said Phoebe, sounding a little panicked. ‘If Will ever let things go further than a handful of dates he’d leave a trail of broken hearts all over the place. He really isn’t what you need. You’re far better off with someone like Sam.’

Yes, he was and no, she wasn’t, Bella thought dazedly, staring at Will over the rim of her glass and feeling her blood heat. ‘Don’t worry, Phoebs,’ she murmured. ‘I just feel like a little fun on my birthday, that’s all.’

‘So get a manicure. Buy yourself a new handbag.’

‘I don’t want a manicure, or a new handbag. I want an affair with Will.’ Whether he still wanted an affair with her, of course, was anyone’s guess. Not once over the last three weeks had he flirted with her. Yes, their conversations had been wide-ranging and kind of personal, but they’d also been platonic and light. But never mind. She’d persuade him of the wisdom of her decision. How could she fail with such zeal on her side?

‘You’re mad.’

‘Possibly.’

‘Do you have any idea how catastrophic it could turn out to be?’