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Marc knew Lisa was right, knew he’d set up the best security for his vault that an unlimited budget and years of expertise in the business could provide. Not to mention the fact that Isa had never stolen from him. Her father had, but she hadn’t. Not six years ago when they were together and not anytime since.
Still, he exchanged an uneasy look with Nic. His brother had been her greatest champion, in the past and the present, and yet even he looked uneasy at the idea of Isa being alone in the vault. Marc moved swiftly for his office door.
“What’s wrong?” Lisa asked. “Where are you going?”
“Don’t worry about him,” Nic said as Marc walked out the door, obviously covering—for him or for Isa, he didn’t know. Nor did he care. “He’s just uptight about this whole thing.”
“We all are. I know you think it’s just your reputations on the line, but it’s all of ours. I stand behind every single diamond in that vault and the idea that some jerk has the nerve to lie about it—lie about us—makes me crazy. Especially when he’s too much of a coward to accuse us to our faces. He has to go behind our backs, to some sleazy journalist, and try to discredit us that way.”
Marc missed Nic’s response to her diatribe as he was already halfway to the elevator. He told himself that everything was fine, told himself that he was paying Isa an exorbitant amount of money to certify his diamonds—money that she would be a fool to risk for the one or two diamonds she might actually be able to sneak out of the vault unseen.
And still he couldn’t help cursing the elevator for taking as long as it did to arrive. He believed in Isa’s integrity, believed she would never steal from him. Hell, he even believed that she hadn’t stolen anything from anyone since she’d first met him; she had access to gems at GIA all the time. And still the little voice in his head urged him to hurry. Still he wanted to be up there in that vault with her. Not because he really thought she’d steal from him, but because he wanted to avoid having her face the temptation.
Most jewel thieves were like junkies—they couldn’t stop even after they’d amassed enough money to retire. Isa’s father had been like that. The man was a millionaire many times over, and dying of cancer to boot, but still he hadn’t been able to resist the big score. Still, he’d stolen from his daughter’s fiancé without remorse or concern. Hell, for a long time, Isa had been like that, too. When she’d begged him to keep her father out of jail, she’d told him about the thrill she’d always felt when stealing. Had told him how much she loved the adrenaline rush but how she’d given it up because the rush she got from being with him was so much bigger, so much more than she could ever get from stealing.
Now, after all these years, he knew she’d meant that. Knew she wasn’t like that anymore. But what if the temptation was too much? What if she wanted to take one little stone, just to see if she could do it? Just because she wanted to?
Sometime in the past few days—probably right around the time she’d agreed to help him despite his over-the-top behavior—he’d forgiven her for what had happened all those years ago. Had forgiven her for choosing her father over him and leaving him, and his company, to flounder
in the wake of it all. The man was her father, after all, and he’d needed her more than Marc had. But just because he understood, didn’t mean he fully trusted her. Forgiven her, yes. But trust...he was still working on that.
If she did this, though, if she stole from him after everything they’d gone through, he knew he would never be able to forgive her. Hell, he wasn’t sure he’d even be able to look at her again.
Maybe he should be grateful for this opportunity, he thought, as the elevator doors finally opened. It would show him what she was made of before he risked anything else on her. But the fact of the matter was, he wasn’t grateful. He was scared. Not because he was worried about losing inventory, he realized as he swiped the badge that would take him to the top floor of the building where the vault was housed. But because he was worried about losing Isa. He’d already lost her once. He didn’t want to go through that again, no matter what lies he’d told himself about his feelings for her when they were in Canada.
The elevator dinged to announce its arrival at his destination, and Marc waited impatiently as the doors slid open. They seemed to be taking three times longer than usual to do so, and though he knew that wasn’t actually the case, it didn’t make the wait any easier.
Finally, the doors opened and he all but launched himself out of the elevator and down the hall toward the main vault, where Isa was supposed to be working. In his haste, he nearly ran over Victor, one of their most accomplished diamond techs and a man who had worked his way up from stone polisher to management in a very short amount of time.
Victor smiled, called hello, but Marc was in too big of a hurry to do much more than nod at the man. And then he was around the corner, staring at the blinking lights that meant the vault was occupied but that its security—sans motion detectors—was fully engaged. He didn’t know whether to be grateful or concerned.
In the end, he was neither. He kept his mind blank, open, as he swiped his badge and his fingerprints. Then he entered his personal code for the vault and waited for the thick steel door to unlock. It only took a couple of seconds, but it felt like an eternity.
Then he flung the door open and rushed inside like a crazy person. And all but bumped into the makeshift desk Isa had set up near the opening of the vault, a desk that held a laptop, a microscope and a small drawer of diamonds. She had one of the diamonds under the microscope, had obviously been studying it intensely when he’d barged in. Now she was studying him intensely.
“You okay?” she asked, putting the diamond down and pushing back from the table.
“Yeah, of course. I’m fine,” he said because, really, what else could he say? I freaked out because I thought you were going to steal from me? Or how about, I’m still freaking out because you’ve been alone in this vault for two hours and I don’t know if you’ve pocketed anything? Yeah, right, because either of those would go over so well. “I just wanted to check on your progress, to see if you’d found anything one way or another.”
She laughed, even as she reached a casual hand out and rubbed his shoulder. “I know it’s nerve-wracking, especially with that article hanging over your head, but nothing of any value can be done in an afternoon, especially in a vault of this size, with this many diamonds. If you’re lucky, I’ll be able to discuss my findings on Wednesday, but more likely it’s going to be Thursday. And that’s only if I spend every working hour here while my substitute teaches at the GIA.”
She didn’t sound bothered by that fact, but he was suddenly—overwhelmingly—swamped by guilt. Guilt for thinking, even for a second, that she was a thief. And guilt that she was working so hard to reassure him when he’d been suspecting terrible things about her. It didn’t seem fair. Not when he’d been the one to almost beg her to take this assignment. Of course, that was before he’d known she’d be left alone in the vault.
Searching for something to say to diffuse the awkwardness he felt he glanced at the diamonds spread out on the table in front of her. Then stiffened because, well, honestly, they were small diamonds. Easy to lose, easy to fence. Easy to pretend away if things weren’t going her way.
“Is there anything you need?” he asked as casually as he could. “Anything I can get for you?”
“Not right now. Tomorrow I’ll need access to your labs, but for now I’m okay here if you have other stuff you want to do. You know, like run a company.” She smiled as she teased him.
“Actually, I thought I’d hang out here for a while, if that’s okay with you. Just in case something comes up. You’re doing Bijoux a huge favor and I’d hate for you to have to wait for something you need.”
“I’m actually good. I’m doing the serial number check right now and will probably be on that for the rest of the day so I really won’t have anything to report unless I find a stone with a mismatched number.” She put a hand on his shoulder, squeezing gently in what he assumed she thought of as support. “It’s nice of you to offer, but there’s nothing for you to do right now.”
He didn’t like the way she stressed the word nice, as if he was missing something. Considering that was exactly what he was afraid of, it ratcheted up his suspicion, had him walking toward the end of the vault and retrieving a chair from the small display there. He carried it back to her, set it down a few feet from her desk. Then slid into it with an easy smile he was far from feeling.
“Even so,” he said, pulling out his phone and pretending to be busy. “I’ve cleared the rest of my afternoon, so I’m at your service.”
She shot him an odd look. “You’re seriously going to stay here the whole afternoon?”
