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‘Keep close to me,’ he warned as they turned a corner into a positive sea of market stalls and people. ‘And watch your pockets.’
‘I haven’t got any,’ she informed him laughingly.
They hadn’t been back to the hotel all day so she was still wearing the simple white sundress, her only accessory a tiny white leather bag strung at an angle from her shoulder on its long, thin strap across her body. All that held was a lipstick and a handkerchief, so any thief stealing that would be disappointed.
But she held tightly to Rafe’s hand as they plunged into the Kowloon equivalent of London’s Portobello Road.
They wandered down through long rows of stalls hung with top designer wear, ladies’ wear, men’s wear—most of which were illegal copies of the most exclusive brandnames. Pure silk suits were sold off the peg, with an old treadle sewing machine at the back of the stall to make instant alterations. Camera stalls, electrical stalls—all held state-of-the-art merchandise. Jewellery stalls sold a quality of product that to her novice eyes was exquisite. And her eyes began to glow with excited enchantment at the whole mad kaleidoscope of shapes and sounds and colours.
It see
med to her wonderfully bewildered mind that you could buy anything here, from the most expensive perfume in the world to the most expensive watch in the world—all for next to nothing.
She paused by one stall, spying something that caught her eye. ‘Rafe, have you got some cash you can lend me?’ she asked him impulsively. ‘Only I’ve not had the chance to cash a traveller’s cheque, and I want one of these.’
‘What—a watch?’ he quizzed, sounding lazily indulgent.
‘Mmm,’ she nodded. ‘I left mine behind in your house in London, you see,’ she explained.
He stared down at her for a moment, his expression comically dubious to say the least. ‘You are joking, of course?’ he murmured eventually. ‘You don’t seriously want to buy one of these cheap copies?’
‘I am not joking!’ she declared. ‘And I do want one. They’re not expensive,’ she added quickly when he gave a rather contemptuous shake of his head. ‘I just heard someone pay only five Hong Kong dollars for one—that’s hardly anything in sterling, is it?’
‘If you want a watch, Shaan,’ he said drily, ‘then we’ll go and find a proper jeweller’s and I’ll buy you one. A real one,’ he added, with a glance of derision at the stall stacked with cheap copies.
Her eyes widened at the derision, then snapped with impatience. ‘Oh, don’t be so stuffy,’ she said. ‘I’ll pay you back tomorrow when I cash a cheque.’
She turned her head then, to catch the vendor’s eye, having no idea how her ‘stuffy’ quip had caught Rafe on the raw. It turned him to stone for the few moments it took him to come to terms with the unhappy fact that she was right and that he was being stuffy.
By then she was deep into bargaining with the vendor, knocking his price down as she had watched others doing. And with a mocking little smile which was aimed entirely at himself, Rafe took a metaphorical step to one side to enjoy watching this twenty-two-year-old woman he had married sportily play the vendor at his own game.
She enjoyed it too. It showed in the sparkle of her dark brown eyes when she eventually remembered him. ‘Right,’ she said briskly. ‘We’ve struck a deal.’
‘How much?’ Rafe asked languidly.
He had his arms folded across his chest, one ankle resting on the other one, and his eyes were alight with irony.
‘Two dollars fifty,’ she declared triumphantly.
He pulled a wry face. ‘Well done,’ he complimented her, and slowly unfolded his arms to dig a hand into his trouser pockets. Then, as if it went against his masculinity to let her close the deal, he turned to the vendor and handed him the two dollars fifty.
The vendor handed Rafe something that had him struggling to keep the horror off his face.
It was a watch, all right, he conceded ruefully. A watch with a wide bright pink plastic strap, a black face—and Minnie Mouse hands.
She hadn’t even gone for a classy fake—she’d chosen this…a fake toy!
‘I don’t believe this,’ he muttered
‘It’s cute,’ Shaan told him, holding out her arm so that he could fasten the watch to her wrist with a fatalistic twist to his mouth. ‘Is it telling the right time?’ she enquired when he’d finished.
Rafe checked the time on his own genuine solid gold Rolex, looked at the time Minnie’s arms were indicating, and grimaced. ‘To the nearest second, by the look of it,’ he conceded rather caustically.
‘Oh, good.’ Extending her arm out in front of her, she made quite a drama out of studying her brand-new purchase. ‘For the first time since I arrived in Hong Kong, I will actually know what time it is!’ she declared in clear satisfaction.
Rafe frowned. ‘Is that why you wanted it?’
‘Mmm,’ she confirmed. ‘And because I liked it,’ she added, even white teeth pressing into her full bottom lip as she lifted gravely innocent eyes to his, because she knew exactly what he was thinking and was enjoying teasing him about it.
