in the absence of knowing what else to say or do.
‘The third Duke of Hawksley was eight months old when he took on the title. I’m thirty-six. Hardly young.’
But hardly the wizened old buffer she’d mentally plucked from the Dukes R Us casting agency either.
Bella frowned as something about the name niggled at the edges her brain. For some annoyingly out-of-reach reason it seemed familiar. ‘Why didn’t you say anything, Your—uh—Grace?’
‘I didn’t mention it because I prefer not to use the title,’ he said, sounding as if he was gritting his teeth. ‘And “Will” will do.’
Will will do what? Bella wondered, and then began to drown in the heat that flooded through her at the thought of exactly what she’d like him to do.
She’d like him to swerve off to the left, drag her down some dusty deserted corridor and back her up against a wall. She’d like him to lift her up, wrap her legs around his waist and crush his mouth down on hers. She’d like him to run his hands all over her and drive her mindless with need. Most of all she’d like him hot and hard and deep inside her.
At the bolt of desire that thumped her in the stomach Bella went dizzy and stumbled. Would have hit the floor had Will not caught her arm and steadied her.
‘Are you all right?’
Bella dragged in a breath and blinked a couple of times as she fought to wipe her head of the images. Oh, good Lord. She was fantasising. About Will. A duke. So much for thinking she didn’t go for the cynical weary type, she thought dolefully. And so much for sensible and mature.
Wishing she could give herself a good slap, she pulled herself together. She could stop fantasising right now. Because if she didn’t, she could well find herself getting completely carried away and have them riding off into the sunset together before the day was out. Which, given his indifference to her, was as unlikely as it was inappropriate.
‘I’m fine,’ she said a little shakily, wriggling away from beneath his grip before she did something really unhinged like deliberately letting her knees collapse and falling into his arms. ‘Absolutely fine. These heels weren’t designed for this carpet, that’s all.’
A pathetic excuse if ever there was one but it would have to do. And it did very well until Will slid his eyes right down her body to the heels she’d unfairly blamed for her stumble.
His gaze was so laser-like, so intense, that it felt as if her clothes were disintegrating in its wake, leaving her standing there in front of him completely naked. And then, at the thought of that, she went so hot and trembly she nearly stumbled all over again.
‘I dare say they weren’t,’ he murmured, lifting his eyes to hers, thrusting his hands in the pockets of his jeans and then swivelling round and striding after the butler.
For a second Bella just stood there, staring at his retreating figure, her heart thudding as she wondered if she’d imagined the flare of desire she’d caught in his eyes.
Must have done, she decided firmly, dismissing the thought as nonsense and springing forwards in an effort to catch him up. Will had shown no indication that he was attracted to her whatsoever, so why would he start now? It had probably been a trick of the light or something.
‘So the jewellery comes with the title?’ she said, eventually drawing up at his side and trying not to pant at the sudden physical exertion.
‘It does.’
And just like that a light bulb switched on in her head.
Oh, my.
Her brain spun and her heart raced. No wonder the name had sounded familiar. No wonder something about the samples he’d brought her had niggled away at her brain. And no wonder the collection was stored at one of the most prestigious private banks in the world.
Will was taking her to see none other than the Hawksley Collection.
Bella caught her breath as excitement ripped through her. The Hawksley Collection was a legend. The greatest, most romantic jewellery collection in the world. It consisted of around two hundred love tokens, gifts of eternal adoration and appreciation, bestowed by the men in the Hawksley family on the women they loved.
She’d heard about it, of course. Had read about it. Had secretly envied it and yearned for someone to love her with that much passion, that much devotion. But she’d never seen it. No one had recently. It hadn’t been on display for years, which had only added to its glamorous mystique.
It was so achingly romantic. So completely heart-fluttering. So dreamily sigh-inducing.
And it was fake?
Questions clamoured at her brain. How? Why? Who else knew? And what would she find when she examined the rest? Would the whole lot turn out to be fake?
Her throat burned, her vision blurred and her mind boggled. Even if she could untangle the questions ricocheting around her head she could hardly ask. Not with the butler melting away and the security guard stepping forward to usher them into the lift.
‘You go on down,’ said Will, tilting his head in the direction of the lift, and backing away. ‘I’ll be with you in a couple of minutes. I have to make a quick call.’
Bella frowned. Another one? What could possibly be more urgent than this? This was staggering. This was humongous. But it was his collection, and if he wanted to let her go down ahead of him and leave her alone with the jewellery, who was she to argue?
‘OK,’ she said, trying to remain cool, which was almost impossible with all the emotions thundering through her. ‘I’ll see you down there.’
Will watched the lift doors close, shoved his hands through his hair and, abandoning all pretence of making a phone call, headed towards the stairs.
If he’d had any idea of the torture a half-hour car ride with Bella would induce, he’d have ditched the car and insisted on making the journey from Notting Hill to the City by Tube.
If they’d taken the Tube, he thought grimly, attacking the stairs two at a time, he wouldn’t have had to spend the last thirty minutes struggling to keep his hands to himself. He’d have had plenty to concentrate on. Adverts. Announcements. Maps. Other people.
And yes, given his irritatingly ingrained problem with places and situations from which he couldn’t escape, it would have been hell, but no more so than what he’d just been through.
Despite trying to keep himself busy with his smartphone, he’d had little else to concentrate on but Bella. With her dress constantly riding up and giving him an eyeful of slim thigh, and her scent winding into his head and making him think of hot exotic nights, Will’s imagination had gone into overdrive.
It had had her giving him a smouldering smile, shooting him a come-hither glance and sliding across the leather towards him. As his body had responded with annoying predictability, his imagination had then got really carried away, and before he could rein it in Bella was bunching up her dress and sitting astride him, leaning down and whispering in his ear. She was arching her back, thrusting her breasts forwards, and then she was lowering her lips to his, sliding her tongue into his mouth and kissing him slowly, languidly, mind-blowingly as she writhed
