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“Andyouwere invited.” Laughter twinkled in her eyes. “If only your precioustonknew what I know.”
Anger flared again, and he added it to the smoking pyre he built deep within. Ramsey swallowed and stepped closer to her. He was sweating now as the heat from the fire in the hearth burned through the silk of his coat. “Perhaps this gift might entice you to keep my secret a little longer.”
She gave him a feline smile. “Perhapsyoumight.”
His stomach revolted at the thought of touching her, even as the smell of her heavy perfume grew more pungent. But he only smiled and held the necklace before her, tantalizing her before pulling it away and securing it safely in his coat pocket again. She watched him with interest, not appearing the least concerned that he had not handed over the necklace, as she had no doubt expected.
“You’re a woman of your word,” he began, ignoring the bemused expression on her face. “I’d like to negotiate. The necklace for those documents.”
“Negotiate,” she purred. “Interesting. How do I know the necklace is real and not an elaborate forgery?”
Ridiculous. She knew it was real, but she wouldn’t make this easy for him. “Have your people examine it. Moreover, have them verify my story. The duchess won’t make public the loss of her necklace, but servants talk.”
Catlike, she stretched. “I could do that. But what am I negotiating for?”
“To begin with, I want you to forgive the loan you made me.”
She blinked at him, her smile deceptive. “Loan? You mean the five thousand you stole?”
He resisted the urge to clench his fists. “It was money for services rendered.” He considered it a victory that his voice had sounded cool and level.
“Chéri,you’re notthatgood.”
He stiffened but would not allow the anger to show. “For the painting Iacquiredfor you. The Titian.”
“Yes. But the theft of a painting is hardly worth five thousand.”
“And Cleopatra’s necklace?”
“Possibly.” She smiled. “But I have a feeling that’s not all you want.”
“You know what I want.”
“Of course, and I will tell you outright that Cleopatra’s necklace is not enough for you to have it.”
“Then what is?” He was towering over her now, and he couldn’t keep all of the fury inside. He wanted to frighten her, but she only smiled up at him. Blinked.
She tilted her head this way and that, pretending to consider. Pursing her lips delicately, she said, “Let me think on it awhile,chéri. I will call for you when I have an answer.”
Ramsey thought long and hard about toppling the chaise longue, spilling her onto the floor, and strangling the life out of her. He didn’t want to wait on her. He wouldn’t answer to her whim, play the lapdog at her beck and call.
If killing her would have solved his problem, he would have done it long ago. But he knew her too well. She would have alternate plans, plans to expose him, even if she were dead. Especially if she were dead.
She smiled at him. “Well?”
He didn’t know if she was asking if he would kill her—for certainly she could see murder in his eyes—or agree to her conditions.
He stepped back. “Fine. But don’t be too long. This necklace is highly sought after. I can easily find another buyer.”
She smiled her cat smile. “Yes, I’m certain you can.” She turned her attention back to her book, turned the page. “Good night, Lord Sedgwick.”
He paused, knowing he was being dismissed and hating that he had no other option but to retreat. The necklace burned against his chest. Heknewshe wanted it. But she was as good at the game as he. Now he would have to see who would yield first.
—
An hour later, Ramsey stepped into his town house on Brook Street. The property had been in the Sedgwick family for several generations and was now in his possession. It was a gargantuan, cavernous showy thing, filled with velvet and silk and crystal and marble.
He hated it. He hated every dour, stuffy, priggish thing about it. He would have liked to burn it down, but then the servants would be homeless. And he did value the servants.
