Say It With Diamonds (8 page)

Setting her glass on the kitchen table, Bella sat down and opened up her laptop.

Research, she told herself. That was all she was doing. A quick check. Just to see. All perfectly normal. A sensible precaution in this day and age, actually, she assured herself, taking a sip of wine, then tapping Will’s name into the search engine and waiting for the results to pop up.

When they did, a nanosecond later, her eyes widened. Wow. Ten thousand entries. So much for wondering how she was going to occupy herself for the next two days.

Feeling an idiotic grin spreading across her face, Bella clicked on the first link and began to read.

One hour, a bowl of vegetable soup and another glass of wine later, Bella was no longer grinning.

Her research had started off so well. She’d found out that Will lived and worked in the Cayman Islands, which no doubt accounted for the tan.

She’d discovered he owned a vast estate over there and liked to windsurf and scuba-dive, which no doubt accounted for the lean muscled body.

She’d learned that he was some sort of genius with figures and derivatives, and she’d had a crash course in day trading.

She’d learned that his family could trace its roots back to King John, and that even without the dukedom he was a billionaire.

She’d learned his mother had died of a stroke when he was twenty-three, and he’d emigrated shortly afterwards.

And then she’d discovered something else. Something that had wiped the smile from her face and was the cause of the disappointment crashing through her.

Will dated. A lot.

According to the articles she’d trawled through and the photos she’d pored over, he rarely saw the same woman more than half a dozen times. In one interview dating from only a month ago, he’d been asked whether he was on the lookout for a duchess and he’d said no. ‘Emphatically’ apparently. When the interviewer had mentioned the Hawksley Collection and asked about love he’d said he didn’t believe in it.

Bella rubbed her eyes, pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed. Wasn’t that typical?

Will Cameron might be hotter than the Sahara in summer and he might have given her the best orgasm of her life, but for whatever reason he was a commitment-phobe. And therefore no good for her whatsoever.

Resisting the urge to drown her sorrows in the rest of the bottle of wine, Bella got up and went in search of her phone. That little voice inside her head yelling, ‘Who cares?’ could protest all it liked. She wasn’t listening. Because she’d had enough of Mr Right Now. She was looking for Mr Right and, despite her hopes to the contrary, Will Cameron was Mr Wrong In Every Way.

CHAPTER SIX

I
F HE
’
D
thought his conversation with his aunt at the bank had been odd, thought Will, sitting in the library at Hawksley House, nursing a glass of whisky and staring broodingly into the fire, it had been nothing compared to the way in which the rest of the day had turned out.

Today was, without exception, the strangest, most surreal day he’d ever experienced and he wasn’t sure he wanted to experience a day like it ever again. He’d had enough mind-boggling revelations and gut-churning trips down memory lane to last a lifetime. And as for the tangled financial mess his aunt had created, well, that had taken hours to unravel. God only knew what sort of trouble she could have ended up in if he hadn’t found out what she’d been up to.

Aware that his hand had tightened around the glass, Will set it on a side table before it shattered and rubbed a hand over his face.

And somewhere muddled up in it all there was Bella.

When he’d woken up this morning he’d never in a million years have imagined that she would have slammed into his life. But she had. Like a tornado, whipping around, lifting everything up, churning it around and then dropping it back down in a chaotic jumble. She’d been unexpected. Unbelievable. And as sexy as hell.

If his body weren’t still throbbing with the after-effects of
the mind-blowing interlude on the back seat of his car he’d never have believed it had happened. But the ever present image of her writhing on top of him, rocking back and forth, biting on her lip and moaning told him it had been all too real. He might not wish to experience a day like today ever again, but he had every intention of experiencing
her
again.

Will ground his teeth and tried to drag his aching body back under control.

How in God’s name was he going to be able to wait until Saturday? In fact why
was
he waiting until Saturday? Why on earth wasn’t he taking her out for dinner tomorrow? So he’d arranged to have a drink with Alex, but he could easily postpone it. He was pretty sure that Alex, himself totally besotted with his fiancée, would understand. There was no need to suffer this agony any longer than was necessary.

He levered himself to his feet to retrieve his phone from his desk where he’d emptied his pockets earlier and then stopped, frowned and fell back down, his blood turning to ice.

What on earth did he think he was doing?

Since when had he contemplated ditching a friend for a woman? And since when had he brought forward a date because he couldn’t wait? Where had his self-control gone? And more disturbingly, where had the idea that he might be besotted with Bella come from? He couldn’t be besotted with her. He’d only just met her. Besides he didn’t get besotted. Ever.

Will let out a growl of frustration. He’d wait until Saturday because he had to. Because that was the plan. Because he wasn’t besotted. And because he had gallons of self-control. Somewhere.

The sound of his mobile ringing jerked him out of his thoughts and he jumped to his feet and snatched it up before he could analyse the sharp stab of hope that it might be Alex cancelling. ‘Hello?’

‘Will?’

At the sound of Bella’s voice on the other end of the line, Will’s pulse leapt and his blood began to simmer as the desire gripping his insides intensified.

Maybe she didn’t want to wait either. Maybe she was as much at the mercy of this as he was. In fact, now he’d dealt with the havoc Caroline had wreaked on her finances, maybe he could invite her round right now. Or head over to hers. He wasn’t fussy. Just weirdly desperate to see her again. ‘Who else?’ he said, reining in his raging libido and telling himself to cool it.

‘Of course.’ He could hear the smile in her voice and his stomach flipped.

‘What can I do for you?’ he said, and rather hoped she was going to tell him exactly what he could do for, and to, her.

He heard her take a deep breath. Imagined her running a hand through her hair. Imagined running
his
hands through it again and felt his pulse spike.

‘I’m calling to cancel our date.’

And then it slowed right down. All the heat and desire dwindled away and Will went strangely cold. What? Why would she want to cancel their date? ‘I see,’ he said, thinking that actually he didn’t see at all. She’d seemed pretty keen earlier, moments after she’d come apart in his arms. ‘Any particular reason?’ he added, aiming for a nonchalance he certainly didn’t feel.

‘I’m busy on Saturday.’

Hmm. Will threw himself into the chair behind the desk and picked up the crystal paperweight blinking at him in the firelight. That was annoying, but fair enough. Perhaps, like him, she hadn’t been thinking all that clearly at the time. And they hadn’t exactly whipped out their diaries to coordinate. ‘Then another day,’ he said.

‘I don’t think so.’

‘Why not?’

‘I just don’t think it’s going to work out.’

Unable to glare at her, Will glared at the paperweight. How the hell did she know that? She hadn’t given it a chance. And what was there to work out anyway? The only thing they had to worry about was sexual compatibility, and there was absolutely no problem on that front.

At the memory of just how sexually compatible they were, a bolt of lust tore through him as sharp and jagged as lightning, and he dropped the paperweight. On his toe.

Wincing at the pain, Will scowled, bent down to pick it up and put it back on the desk.

‘Are you all right?’

The concern tingeing her voice irritated him even more. ‘Fine. Just great.’ He ground his teeth. ‘What makes you think it wouldn’t work out?’

A pause. ‘I just know.’

He went still as a thought flashed across his mind. ‘Are you involved with someone else?’

‘Of course not. Do you really think I’d do what I did if I was?’

‘I don’t know, do I? I don’t know you. You aren’t allowing me the chance.’

‘Well, I wouldn’t.’

She sounded outraged and Will made himself calm down. Not everyone had infidelity forever at the forefront of their mind. ‘No. Sorry.’

‘Would
you
?’ she snapped.

A chill rippled through him. ‘No.’

‘Well, then.’

‘So?’ What was her problem? God, he wished he could see her face.

‘It’s really nothing,’ she said irritatingly coolly. ‘Like I said, I just don’t think it would work out, that’s all.’

Will frowned as his stomach churned. With pique, of
course, because he couldn’t remember the last time a woman had cancelled a date with him. Women generally didn’t. So why was Bella giving up on them before they’d even started? And why did he even care?

Will narrowed his eyes and switched his brain into gear. This was nuts. Why was he worrying about this? So what if the fact that she’d reduced the episode in his car to a one-night stand left a bad taste in his mouth? If it didn’t bother her why did it have to bother him?

Setting his jaw, he pulled himself together. He hadn’t begged for a date in his life, and he wasn’t about to start now.

‘Fine,’ he said, as if he couldn’t care one way or the other. ‘If that’s what you want, fine.’

‘Oh,’ she said, sounding faintly taken aback at his capitulation. Ha. As if he was going to put up a battle. ‘Well. Good. No hard feelings?’

His whole body tightened as the memory of exactly how hard she’d got him feeling smacked him around the head, and for a split second he wanted, no,
yearned
, to fight that battle. And then he ruthlessly stamped it all back down, because that kind of perverse way of thinking would lead to nothing but the sort of complications in his life that he really didn’t need. Nevertheless … ‘Bad choice of words, Bella.’

Another pause. ‘I see,’ she said. ‘Yes. Sorry … Well, then, goodbye.’

‘Goodbye,’ he said curtly, and hung up.

Maybe it was for the best, he thought, tossing his phone on the desk in frustration. If simply cancelling their date had this effect on his equilibrium, imagine what else she could achieve.

In fact, he ought to be
glad
that she’d put an end to their acquaintance. The last thing he needed right now was a woman playing havoc with his head. Not that they ever did, of course.

It was probably the fact that he’d been too busy to go out
with a woman in the last couple of months that was messing with his mind. Yes, that was undoubtedly it, he thought, snatching his phone back up and scrolling through his list of contacts. What the hell. If he wanted a date he knew plenty of women who’d be only too pleased to hear he was back in the country and free on a Saturday night.

There was nothing special about Bella.

Absolutely nothing at all.

CHAPTER SEVEN

W
ILL
had ruined her for ever, Bella thought morosely, taking a sip of champagne and resisting the temptation to down her glass in one. That was the only possible explanation.

Because Phoebe had been right. Alex’s friend, who’d turned out not to be Will of course, but Sam, was attractive, intelligent and witty. He was interesting, good company and he’d brought her to a restaurant she’d been dying to try out ever since she’d read about it in a magazine a week or so ago. He’d kept his eyes on her face, had ordered vintage champagne and had told her the evening was on him and that she was to have whatever she wanted.

He was absolutely perfect.

Except for one thing. One tiny weeny little thing that shouldn’t have bothered her in the slightest but now, apparently, did. A lot.

And that was the complete absence of any chemistry whatsoever.

Bella bit her lip as frustration clutched at her stomach. Up until a couple of days ago she’d been perfectly happy to sacrifice mind-blowing orgasms in favour of long-term commitment. Up until a couple of days ago chemistry hadn’t even featured on her wish list. Now, apparently, it had gone in at number two. Now, apparently, she wanted commitment
and
great sex, which was as irritating as it was scarily unattainable.

When she’d met Sam in the bar earlier she’d automatically checked him out. She’d looked into his eyes, studied his mouth, his smile and run her gaze over his body in the hope of feeling something.

But had she? No, she hadn’t. Not a spark. Not a tingle. Not a shudder. She’d dug around for even the tiniest flicker of lust, but it wasn’t there.

That it now seemed to matter was infuriating in the extreme. Particularly since it was, she knew, all down to Will and the lingering effect he seemed to have on her.

With hindsight she should have simply sent him a text instead of calling. At the time though, texting, after what they’d been up to, had somehow seemed a little cowardly. Now however, she wished she hadn’t been quite so principled.

The last forty-eight hours had been a nightmare. Ever since he’d abruptly hung up on her she’d barely slept. Barely been able to eat. And as for work, well, that had been a complete disaster.

Yesterday she’d been working on an emerald pendant, and without warning the fiercely intense expression on Will’s face as he thrust deep inside her had flown into her head. As desire had bolted through her her vision had blurred, her hand had trembled and the emerald had shattered.

After that Bella had stuck to paperwork. Which might have been safer for her profit margin, but still didn’t stop her mind wandering.

As much as she told herself that she’d done the right thing by terminating any further contact with Will, it hadn’t stopped her from thinking about him constantly. It hadn’t stopped her mentally adding thick dark hair, deep blue eyes
and a firm muscled body, along with sizzling chemistry, to her wish list.