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He’d been watching her like that all morning. It was as thrilling as it was unsettling. She wasn’t used to having men—especially attractive men—pay that much attention to her. Was he still angry about this morning? She couldn’t keep up with how she was supposed to feel or act around him.
Amelia turned back to Cora. “Oh, you know how they are,” she deflected, trying not to squirm.
“I certainly do.”
“Go Cora,” Amelia said with a laugh. “Are you saying you were a man-eater?”
“There’s no past tense about it, girl,” Cora replied with a wink.
Laughing, Amelia perused the fresh fruit on offer. She had to turn this conversation to something more productive. She placed a couple of strawberries on her plate and asked as casually as she could, “Did you hear that they think Nadia’s ring was stolen?”
Cora’s fingers paused above the toaster. “I did,” she finally admitted. “Fred’s been on edge since it went missing. Haven’t seen him this bad since ’92, when he almost went bankrupt planning children’s parties here in Stirling.” The old lady glanced over her shoulder, then leaned toward Amelia. “You ask me, I think buying a ring worth twelve million is just asking for trouble.”
“I don’t know that I’d go that far. Stealing is wrong, and it isn’t the victim’s fault.”
“I wouldn’t be flaunting it all around, that’s for sure,” the old lady said. She hiked her purse up on her shoulder and shook her head. “But Fred doesn’t deserve that. This retreat is one of the only times I see him truly enjoy himself.”
“Maybe they’ll find it in a heating vent,” Amelia offered.
“One can only hope,” Cora said, then nodded to Robert Lafontaine, who had just entered the room. “If anyone took it, it was that man. Started his career with the Mob, you know. An outfit out of New York City. You can take the man out of Little Italy, but, well, you know how the saying goes.”
Amelia’s eyes widened. She glanced at Robert, who gave her a sunny smile and a wave from his side of the room. He didn’t look like a mobster. He and Trudy looked like they were looking forward to a sunny retirement in Florida.
“Lafontaine isn’t an Italian name.”
“Either him or Vanessa,” Cora continued, ignoring Amelia’s comment. “She’s been stuck for cash since her sugar daddy left her, and she has the integrity of a wet noodle.” She grabbed a little packet of butter and placed it on top of her toast before turning to face the room. “Well. Enjoy your breakfast!”
Hurrying to Leo’s side, Amelia slumped into a chair. She leaned over and said, “Cora thinks it was Robert or Vanessa.”
Leo reared back. “Really?”
“Apparently Robert was part of the Mob, and it’s like you heard yesterday, Vanessa’s got money troubles.”
“Doesn’t explain Ari’s list.”
Amelia bit into a strawberry and shook her head. “No,” she said after she’d swallowed. “It doesn’t. And if his watch went missing, he’d hardly have stolen it from himself. Unless he’s trying to deflect suspicion?”
Leo’s hand lifted, and his thumb swiped at something on her lip. It came away pink with the strawberry’s juices. “Messy,” he said, eyes still on Amelia’s lips.
Heat wound through her stomach, settling down between her thighs. She shifted on her seat and turned her eyes to her plate. The Danish was, indeed, as delicious as she’d anticipated. Camilla was a maestro.
Amelia was just staring down the third pastry on her plate, wondering if it was a bad idea to go for it, when she realized Leo was staring at her. She picked up a napkin and daintily patted her lips. Maybe two Danishes was enough. She frowned at him. “What?”
“Nothing,” he said.
Her frown deepened. “Tell me.”
“Never mind, Amelia.” He curled his hand onto her shoulder, like he couldn’t help but touch her, and she smelled the fresh scent of his skin. It rivaled Camilla’s Danish for deliciousness. Her head spun, doubly so when Leo leaned over and pressed a soft kiss to her temple.
It was part of their loving couple act, of course, but it still made her vision go fuzzy around the edges. No midnight message from Ben could rival one touch from Leo.
In an attempt to distract herself—and maybe, in an attempt to ignore the truth beginning to reveal itself right in front of her eyes—she glanced around and saw Vanessa slinking out of the room. The other woman gripped her phone in one hand. The look on Vanessa’s face was nothing short of thunderous.
“Come on,” Amelia urged. “Let’s see what that’s about.”
It was only when they’d stepped out of the breakfast room that Amelia realized Leo had kissed her temple when no one was watching them at all.
Leo followedAmelia out of the breakfast room and down the hall. They passed the Blue Room and a small dining room and saw Vanessa disappear into a network of interconnected spaces. Creeping through lushly decorated rooms, they followed through big double doors into a salon, through a dressing room filled with empty shelves and a velvet-upholstered seat, stopping when Vanessa crossed into a guest bedroom and slumped down onto a window seat.
