Probably said Wal-Mart.

“I should take the jewels to Breathley Brothers in St. George. They deal in fine historic gems, and they can do an up-to-date appraisal that incorporates provenance. I do have paperwork for many of the pieces, after all.”

“And there I was, thinking you came here to help me clean.” She put her hands on her hips. “I was just about to ask you to help me scrub the bathroom floor.”

His dimples appeared. “Celia would do a better job of that. I can send her over, if you like. I’m not sure I’d even fit in that bathroom.”

An image of Naldo’s big, bronzed body squeezed into the tiny shower stall assaulted her imagination.

He took a step forward and his rich male scent crept up on her. “I want our arrangement to be completely fair.”

Fair? Nothing about this was fair. For a start it wasn’t fair that Naldo always had such a discombobulating effect on her.

The image in her mind shifted into deeper focus. Thick droplets of warm water cascading over the hair-roughened skin of his powerful thighs.

She inhaled sharply. “Maybe I could take them.”

His brows lowered. “Perhaps we could go together.”

“When?”

“Right now.” He crossed his arms, in a gesture matching hers. His thick forearms tugged at the front of his black shirt, pulling it tighter over his well-developed pecs.

She crossed her arms higher to cover the tightening of her naughty nipples.

“I guess I’d better get changed.”

“I don’t know why. I think you look lovely like that.”

“I’m not sure your snooty jeweler will agree. They probably frown on cutoffs.”

“Let them frown all they want; they won’t turn away my business.” His lips lifted into a half smile.

So true. An old name and even older money guaranteed you the best of everything. Naldo had probably never heard the word no in his life.

“I’ll change anyway.”

“I’ll watch.” His eyes narrowed as his smile broadened.

“You will not!” Her protest accompanied a curl of heat in her belly. The thought of those dangerous dark eyes on her, appraising, admiring…

“Wait downstairs.”

Naldo pouted slightly before turning for the stairs. He ducked, stooping his broad shoulders as he went down the tiny staircase.

Her nipples stung as she slid her T-shirt over them, and her panties were already damp. Just being in the room with Naldo made her pant like a preteen at a rock concert.

How was she supposed to stand the half-hour drive to St. George cooped up in his tiny car with him?

She needed a chastity belt.

And the next best thing was a dress from her mother’s closet. Surely she wouldn’t think lusty thoughts if she was wearing clothes that belonged to her mom. She flipped past a pretty floral dress and a low-backed white one, then lifted a splashy polka-dot number from its hanger.

Perfect. It was the kind of thing that only her mom could pull off. Naldo would certainly be too weirded out to give her any smoldering looks in this.

Six

Naldo frowned as Anna emerged through the front door, jewel box in hand, to where he paced on the lawn. “You’re wearing that?”

“You don’t like it?” She did a twirl, which caused the polka-dotted skirt to flare out around her.

“It’s okay, it’s just that you look like…”

Your mother.

The unspoken words crackled in the air.

Her mother had loved patterns, bright colors, girly details. A stark contrast to Anna’s own preference for pastels and simple sheath dresses. The fitted forties-style dress was a size too big, but with the belt cinched in it looked…festive.

The look of distress on Naldo’s face gave her a warm glow of satisfaction.

“Do that again,” he said, with an unreadable expression.

“What?”

“Twirl.”

She twirled, hoping to see consternation furrow his majestic brow again.

She was annoyed to confront a smug look of satisfaction.

“Suits you.” He strode to his Alfa Romeo and tugged open the passenger-side door. “You should show off your shape more often.”

Anna bristled with irritation as she lowered herself into the seat and strapped herself in, nipples thrumming inside the fitted bodice of her mother’s dress.

After he returned from his house with the papers, Naldo’s eyes fell to the wooden box cradled in her lap. “Why don’t you put one of the pieces on? That dress could use some earrings.”

“No thanks. I don’t want to get attached.” She shot him a loaded glance.

His lips quirked into a smile. “Understandable.”

During the drive they chatted, mostly about the estate and Naldo’s plans to improve and upgrade using the latest technology and scientific research. Anna answered his questions about her work with genuine enthusiasm-she’d been damn good at it, after all-and managed to deflect his curiosity about her future plans with blurry answers and more questions for him.

It was cute how he could talk about his beloved estate and its people and places for hours. His love for them was obviously deep, ingrained and heartfelt. What would it be like to have a man care about you with that kind of intensity?

She tore her eyes from his proud profile. She knew better than to entertain any thoughts about Naldo loving her. That was the road to heartbreak.

Naldo parked in front of an elegant Queen Anne house in a leafy part of St. George. The jeweler was so low-profile that they didn’t even use a sign. Naldo had called ahead on his cell, and they were greeted at the door by a young man in a white linen suit, who was on a first-name basis with Naldo.

Was this a setup? Had Naldo roped some friend of his into pretending to be a jeweler? Was he going to provide a false, low valuation so he could buy the gems back on the cheap?

Suspicious thoughts crept around her mind as she climbed the wide, deep steps of the house, her polka-dot skirt draping around her knees.

The man in the white suit ushered them into a cool, shady drawing room filled with Victorian antiques and offered them iced tea. Naldo refused, but Anna accepted a glass, then wished she hadn’t when more wary thoughts sneaked over her.

Is it poisoned? Drugged? Is this part of Naldo’s cunning plot to be rid of me once and for all?

The increasingly lunatic direction of her thoughts, and the fact that she was wearing what amounted to a fancy-dress costume, suddenly struck her as hilarious. She was struggling not to laugh out loud when a tall, slim, elderly man in a brown pinstripe suit walked into the room, leaning lightly on a cane.

“Mr. De Leon.” He shook Naldo’s hand. “Good to see you again.”

“This is Anna Marcus.” Naldo indicated Anna, who stepped forward to shake his hand.

“The future Mrs. De Leon?” The elderly man smiled.

“No.” Both Anna and Naldo spat the reply at once. Anna felt a flicker of irritation that he was so quick to dismiss the possibility. Then she was mad at herself for wishing he hadn’t.

“Oh. I beg your pardon. How may I help you?”

Naldo glanced at Anna’s lap, where she still held the box in a vise grip. “We’re seeking valuation for some family jewels. We would like to know the correct market price.”

“I see. Bring the gems to my desk, please.” He walked stiffly to a large, leather-topped table with several vintage-looking pieces of equipment on it.

Anna crossed the room, clutching the box. She laid it on the leather surface. She hovered, apprehensive, as he raised the lid.

A frown crossed his weathered face. “I’ve seen these pieces before.” He looked up at Anna, who felt her eyebrows shoot up. She heard Naldo shift in his chair, behind her. “The late Mr. De Leon brought them to me seeking appraisal some years ago.”

“For insurance?” Naldo frowned. “He never believed in it.”

“I don’t know the reason, but I gave him a detailed appraisal at that time. Let me get my notes.”

The man who’d opened the door brought a thick file, and the appraiser proceeded to read from a detailed report he’d prepared a few years earlier.

Anna’s jaw was in her lap by the time he’d finished going over the pieces one by one-lamenting the careless storage and admonishing Naldo, who he assumed to be the owner, for tossing them in a crude box. Three of the pieces were over three hundred years old. One necklace contained a famous diamond known as the Star of the Sea, once owned by an Indian maharaja and brought to the States by one of Naldo’s merchant ancestors. The Victorian pieces the other jeweler had scoffed at were the work of an idiosyncratic but respected American designer whose work now fetched a premium at auction.

When all was said and done, the combined value of the twelve pieces in the box was “priceless.” A “fair market value” was determined to be somewhere between two and three million dollars, with unlimited upside potential at auction, depending on the bidders.

“Why weren’t they mentioned in the will?” breathed Anna, as she stumbled down the front steps. Naldo was carrying the box. She didn’t feel worthy to even touch it any more. He was right, they were his family treasures.

“Perhaps he didn’t intend for her to keep them.” Naldo’s expression was stony as he opened her car door.

She buckled in, unease trickling through her, as she waited for him to walk around to his side and climb in.

“So if he just gave them to her, and there’s no paper trail…” She tried to make sense of it.

“The gift wouldn’t be legal. Taxes must be paid on a gift of this size.”

“Oh.” Her mother hadn’t paid any taxes on a gift like this. She’d done her mom’s tax returns for the last ten years.

The gems weren’t hers. She wondered if she should feel upset, but she didn’t. She’d never had any real right to them.

Naldo had placed the box in the trunk of the car.

He’d repossessed it. And she didn’t have the energy to protest.

“I’ll have to do some digging around. Find out who they really belong to.”

She relaxed a little as he started the engine. As he reversed out of the parking space, he shot a hot, dark glance in her direction.

After they’d driven a couple of blocks, he looked at her again and his eyes skimmed lower, to the plunging neckline of her bold dress, to the cinched-in hourglass of her waist.

Taking possession. He did that well. Already her body responded with a shivery flush of warmth that spread over her skin and deep inside her.

Damn him.

She fixed her eyes on the windshield, only to gasp when he swung the car to the side of the road, threw it into Park and captured her lips in a warm, wet kiss.

Her mind fought back for a split second, but her body capitulated instantly as the stirring male scent of his warm skin crept over her, and his penetrating and forceful kiss plundered her mouth and stole her senses.

She writhed against the pleasurable pressure of the harness seat belt, her nipples humming with arousal. She wriggled in her seat, arching and straining as his big, broad hands roved over the front of her dress, cupping her breasts and stroking her belly.

He lifted the skirt of her dress with one swift movement of his hand, baring her thighs. With her legs splayed against the seat, parted by his hand, she felt wanton, desirable and ready for anything.

Naldo unfastened her seat belt and helped her ease her arms out of it. He hiked her dress up over her waist and dove into her panties, tugging them down as his eager tongue reached for her swollen sex.

As his broad back filled the distance from his seat to hers, she lifted her hips and gave herself to him, mentally begging him to lick and suck her all the way to heaven.

Then she remembered the jewels.

And how Naldo had used sex to get what he wanted.

“Stop!”

If he heard, he showed no sign of it. His tongue slaked her inner thigh, hot and wet, as his fingers roved between the buttons on the front of her dress to press her eager nipples.

She wriggled under the pressure of his lips and fingers, wanting to give herself over to the sensual pleasure of his touch.

He’s doing this to distract you. To use you somehow.

“Naldo!”

“What?” His throaty moan was half buried in her thighs.

“Stop this right now! I know what you’re up to.”

“Driving you…” He broke off, losing his mouth in her chest.

“You’re not driving.” Her words came out kind of squeaky and breathless as he nipped at her nipples though the polka-dot fabric.

“Wild with desire,” he murmured, trailing his face over her breasts.

Well, yes, that and-“Getting my mind off the jewels.”

“Sounds like a plan.” He nibbled at her neck, sending delicious shivers of arousal over her skin.

“Stop, I mean it.”