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With her lack of experience and a fine arts degree, he suspected there weren’t many places who would take her,except... ‘You can work with me.’
‘I can’t take your clothes or your money!’
‘You can’t continue to wear what you’re wearing now, since it’s all you have.’ The vision of her in one of his shirts the night before drifted lazily through his consciousness. It had swamped her. She’d looked impossibly alluring, scrubbed clean of make-up, all mussed up as if they’d just had... Once again he tried to shut down his errant imagination. When had it become so fertile? ‘And if not money, didn’t Ferdinand give you gifts?’
He didn’t know why the words hissed out so vehemently.
‘No. The only thing he ever gave me was the engagement ring.’
With all the Crown’s riches, her fiancé should have draped her in gems, spread glittering trinkets over her flawless, naked flesh...
Hereallyneeded to stick to business.
‘You won’t be taking my money. You’ll be earning it, in a way. Whilst I can’t officially employ you, we can come to some sort of arrangement. I’m always looking for treasure. You might be able to help me find some.’
She sat up a bit straighter and a beaming smile broke out over her face, as beautiful as the first rays of sunshine spilling over the horizon. A man could be quite dazzled by her, if he allowed himself.
‘I used to do that in the Morenburg markets.’
Undiscovered antiques were the only thing of worth in Lauritania, as far as he was concerned.
‘Did you find any treasures?’
Sara cocked her head to the side, her eyes narrowed, the corner of her mouth curling till she looked quite sly.
‘It’s a...secret.’
He saw what she was doing. The thrill of it was like a lick of fire igniting in his belly. ‘Don’t keep me waiting.’
Sara put her finger to her lips and tapped, as if she were thinking. ‘I seem to recall someone telling me it wasallabout the excitement of waiting.’
She thought to turn those tables on him? He chuckled. ‘One day, angel, I’ll truly teach you about waiting for what you crave. That’ll be one hell of a lesson.’
Her face softened, and her mouth opened as if it was too hard to take in air. Her pupils flared, big and dark, in the pale blue of her eyes. She shifted in her seat as his words were left hanging in the air. What was he playing at? This game was about saving Sara, not seducing her.
‘How about we make a deal?’ he asked, wrestling the conversation back on track.
‘O...okay?’
He tried to ignore her little stutter. The way the word came out all soft and hopeful.
‘You tell me, and I’ll tell you.’
She laughed and it seemed as if the whole day brightened around him again.
‘It’s not much, really. A miniature teapot in pristine condition, which I think is antique Meissen porcelain. My art history tutor was having it appraised. He believes it’s quite rare.’
Whilst she said it wasn’t much, Sara sat up straighter, her face alight, gaze distant as if she was recalling the moment she’d found it. He understood that electric sensation, discovering something others had forgotten about or didn’t value.
‘Well done,’ he said. ‘Highly collectible.’
She shrugged. ‘It’s impossibly pretty, and I was lucky.’ Then she leaned forwards, hands clasped in front of her. ‘Now it’s your turn.’
‘Remember, it’s yet to be authenticated.’ But it would be, he was certain of it. Lance leaned back in his chair, stretching the moment out, his heart beating a little faster even now, his recollection of that moment twelve months before when he’d unwrapped a filthy oilcloth and uncovered a masterpiece.
‘A Caravaggio. Found it in someone’s attic.’
Her eyes widened.‘No.’
