At the Spaniard's Pleasure (19 page)

Four hours later Liza turned as Nick strolled back into the bedroom, looking stunning in dark trousers, a blue shirt, and a cashmere sweater draped loosely over his broad
shoulders. ‘I thought you said five minutes.' He grinned, and Liza's heart-rate speeded up.

‘Do I look all right?' she asked, shoving back the over-long shirtsleeves. Her own top was torn, and she was wearing one of Nick's shirts over her hipster jeans.

‘I am not going to answer that on the grounds we will never get out of here if I start thinking exactly how delectable you are. Come on.' And, catching her hand, he led her downstairs and out of the house.

Twenty minutes later Nick ushered Liza into a very exclusive jewellers. The proprietor knew Nick, and in moments they were seated in deep-cushioned velvet chairs beside a glass-topped table, and an assistant was asking them what they would like to drink. Coffee, Champagne…

Nick ordered both.

‘Do we have to do this now?' Liza demurred, intimidated by the hushed opulence of the place.

‘It's up to you,' Nick said reasonably, his fingers caressing her palm. ‘If you want to appear ringless at dinner tonight in front of the two mothers I don't mind.' He smiled into Liza's eyes while tightening his hold on her hand. ‘After you insisted at the airport I phoned Mamma and I told her you had persuaded me to give up the Verbier run, and all other extreme sports, she was delighted,' he said casually. ‘In fact, she was almost speechless when I told her I was thinking of indulging in more indoor sports, and I was taking you home with me for a siesta as befitted a man of my age,' he ended with devilish mockery.

‘You didn't!' Liza exclaimed in horror. Looking into his dark eyes, she saw the wicked golden sparks and groaned. ‘Oh, no, you did.' She turned scarlet.

Nick was still grinning at the expression on Liza's face when the proprietor reappeared with a tray of exquisite diamond rings. He felt her hand jerk in his, and the grin swiftly turned into a grimace. Diamonds were not a good idea, under the circumstances. The last thing Liza needed
was a constant reminder of the diamond heist. How insensitive was that?

‘I'm sorry, Liza.' He turned her face towards him with a hand at her chin. ‘I never thought. Why don't you choose something else?'

For once the tables were turned and her indomitable lover was looking less than his usual confident self. Lifting her free hand, she patted his cheek, taking full advantage of his obvious discomfort. ‘Oh, I don't know,' Liza said slowly, her eyes gleaming with repressed amusement. ‘I have become rather fond of diamonds—they will always remind me of you, Nick, darling.'

He didn't need Liza remembering every day of their married life that he had thought, just for a second, that she was a thief! ‘No, please—what about sapphires, rubies, or emeralds—take your pick,' Nick said adamantly.

‘Well, I don't know,' she teased, her blue eyes dancing. But, suddenly conscious of the very real anxiety in his haunted expression, she decided to put him out of his misery.

Liza tightened her fingers around his hand and leant towards him. ‘If it wasn't for diamonds we would never have met again, and you did rescue me from a band of thieves,' she said quietly. ‘My boss Mr Stubbs was right about you. You are a regular James Bond.' And, closing the remaining space between them, she murmured, ‘I seem to remember diamonds are forever.' And she kissed him. ‘And I am yours forever.'

A shout of laughter and then a dazzling smile flashed across Nick's darkly handsome features. Then he lifted her hand and pressed a kiss to her palm almost reverently. ‘As I am yours—always.'