Our Little Secret (39 page)

Drew’s smile was gone, his gaze sharp as he leaned forward, caressing her arms. “Lauren, I know I shouldn’t rush you. You’ve just bounced out of a relationship that stifled you, and you need some space.”

He obviously thought she felt some sadness about ending her relationship with Jeff. Lauren opened her mouth to correct him, but he put a finger to her lips.

“No, hear me out. Right now you’re probably afraid to hear words that imply commitment, and I understand that.” He drew a deep breath. “But I have to be honest with you, Lauren. I’m in love with you, and I don’t intend to let you go.”

She knew she’d heard correctly because she saw the concerned look in his eyes, as if he were afraid of how she might react. Her mouth opened again, but all she could manage was, “Um…”

A deep crease appeared in his brow. The reason occurred to her in a flash of amazement—he was nervous.

“Honey, if you need time, I’ll wait.” His pained look made her want to kiss him senseless, but she was still paralyzed with disbelief. “But I have to warn you right now, I’m going to keep trying to change your mind.”

He was waiting for a reply. She managed a shaky nod.

“And I won’t be satisfied with a live-in relationship. I want marriage and children.”

His jaw clenched with determination and he set his shoulders, apparently braced for the impact of rejection.

Lauren swallowed the lump in her throat. If her mouth weren’t hanging open in shock she’d probably be grinning like an idiot. “That’s quite a lot for me to think about,” she told him, careful to keep her voice casual.

He nodded, looking as serious as she’d ever seen him. “I know what you’re thinking,” he said, wincing.

“You do?”

“You’re thinking my place is remote and the town is too small for you to find the sort of responsible position you have now.”

Actually, she hadn’t given it a second’s thought.

“But if you’re willing to consider a slightly less
glamorous job, I’m planning to expand Camp Windhaven’s services in the future, and I could use a good financial planner.”

“You mean, work for you?”

“Work
with
me,” he corrected gently. “It would be your place, too. Your home.”

Her heart had already decided, but Lauren weighed the decision one time to satisfy her conscience. She could return to her old job crunching numbers for an engineering firm and hope to find a man as wonderful as Drew, or live in a mountain paradise with the man she loved, the man she knew she would love for the rest of her life, building a home and family together, while giving troubled kids a second shot at life.

She bit her lip as she touched his chest and stroked down the hard muscles of his arms, the arms that would always be there to hold her.

She allowed a tiny smile as she met his eyes. She didn’t want to appear too easy, which was going to be a challenge, because she was already visualizing those children he’d promised. “You said the house has a fireplace?”

He nodded cautiously. “Yes, a big one.”

“I don’t suppose there’s a bear skin rug in front of it?”

Drew’s eyes blinked with surprise. As he got her meaning, his mouth twitched upward. “I’ll buy one. Tomorrow.”

“Take your time.” She leaned forward, pressing her lips to his in a lingering kiss. “We can start on the dining room table.”

Turn the page
for a sneak preview
at the next sexy, romantic caper
from Starr Ambrose

the sequel to
Lie to Me

Coming soon from Pocket Books

Dumping the world’s worst husband called for more than a celebration. It required a symbolic act—like hocking her engagement ring.

“You know what this is? It’s poetic justice.” Janet Aims admired the tasteful display of diamonds twinkling in Portman Jewelers’ storefront window as if she were buying, not selling. “This is where Banner bought the stupid ring in the first place. I found the receipt.”

“That doesn’t mean they’ll buy it back,” Ellie pointed out. “I don’t think jewelry stores do that, especially high-class places like Portman’s.” Ellie admired the diamonds, too, then glanced at her watch. She’d been doing that a lot today.

Janet pretended not to notice her friend’s obsession with time. “They buy estate jewelry. This ring is now part of the Westfield estate, which ought to be enough to impress anyone in this town. I just have to suck it up and be a Westfield one last time.”

She shifted to get a better view of her reflection and finger-combed the hairs that barely covered her ears. She wasn’t used to the short haircut yet, but she liked it. It was all part of the new Janet—new haircut, new condo, and new marital status: single, with no dazzling diamond ring to remind her of the biggest mistake of her life.

“Do I look rich and influential enough to impress them?”

Ellie laughed. “You were born rich and influential. You can do rich and influential in jammies and bunny slippers.”

“Not Westfield rich, I can’t. That’s a whole different class of wealth.” She gave Ellie a significant eyebrow wiggle. “One you’d better get used to.”

“Jack’s a Payton, not a Westfield.”

“Payton, Westfield, what’s the difference? They all connect to Elizabeth Payton Westfield, and it doesn’t get any richer than that, at least not in Bloomfield Hills, Michigan.” She pulled a white ring box out of her purse. “Come on, I’ll take advantage of my status one last time and show you how the rich folk throw their weight around. I can’t wait to get rid of this thing.”

“You demonstrate. I’ll take notes.” Ellie snickered and gave her watch another glance before reaching for the door.

That did it. “Okay, hold it.” Janet stuck a hand in front of her friend.

“What? Why?”

“What’s with the watch? That’s about the fiftieth time you’ve looked at it today.”

“It is?” Ellie looked embarrassed.

“Yes it is, and every time you do, you get all anxious and tense. Do you have an appointment somewhere? ‘Cause we can leave, I don’t have to do this now.”

Ellie’s lips quirked upward. “Well, it’s not exactly an appointment.”

Suspicion grew. “This isn’t about my divorce being finalized, is it? Because if you planned a surprise party or something, I want to know about it right now. You know I hate surprise parties.”

“No party, I promise. It’s not about you. It’s about me.”

Ellie’s smug little smile made Janet relax. She smiled back without knowing why. “Looks like something good. You gonna share?”

Ellie leaned closer so the few shoppers wandering by couldn’t hear. “I have to be home by three o’clock so I can get pregnant.”

Janet’s mouth opened. “Huh?”

“My temperature chart says I’m ovulating, and Jack promised to leave the office early so we can”—she lifted her eyebrows—“make a baby. Maybe.”

“Really? “She grinned at her best friend for several seconds. “It’s about time!”

“Yeah, well, we didn’t want to wait this long, but it’s not happening as fast as we hoped.”

Janet bounced on her toes, unable to contain her excitement. “It will, don’t worry. This is a good day for both of us, I can feel it. I get rid of the last reminder of Banner, and you get started on a baby. This is exciting! Come on, let’s get this over with so you can get home and get pregnant.” Janet grabbed her hand and pulled her inside the store.

Ellie walked fast to keep up. “I’m glad you’re so agreeable, since I have to ask you for a favor.”

“Anything.”

“It involves Rocky.”

Damn
! That was
not
what Janet wanted to hear. Ready to accuse Ellie of taking advantage of her good mood, a voice behind Janet said, “Mrs. Westfield! Welcome to Portman’s. How may I help you?”

Janet hissed, “We’ll talk about this later,” then replaced her glare with a smile as she turned toward the man behind the counter. She didn’t know him, so he must have recognized her from newspaper photos. The
wife of the accused. One more reason to hate Banner.

“Hello, Mr.—”

“Portman. William Portman.”

“Mr. Portman. I’m Miss Aims now.”

He flushed. “Of course, I’m sorry.”

Letting him feel a little embarrassed might work to her advantage. She reached into her purse and pulled out a small box. Opening the white silk lid, she set it on the glass countertop. “Do you remember this ring, Mr. Portman?”

He smiled as soon as he saw the large diamond flanked by two smaller stones. “Oh my, yes. A beautiful piece, we designed the setting exclusively for…” His smile slipped and he cleared his throat. “For Mr. Westfield.”

“Yes, you did. So you can understand why, as beautiful as it is, I don’t want it anymore.”

“Uh, hmm, yes.” He pursed his lips and frowned, apparently unsure of the protocol when acknowledging one’s association with a notorious criminal.

“How much can you give me for it?”

Portman looked even more uncomfortable. “Miss Aims, Portman’s doesn’t accept returns on used jewelry.”

“
Used
?” She arched an eyebrow. “Mr. Portman, this jewelry belongs to the Westfield estate. Do you, or do you not, deal in estate jewelry?”

Janet saw his gaze dart across the room to a tall display case labeled “Estate Jewelry,” then look quickly away. “Yes, but those are heirloom pieces, crafted by well-known artists. They have historic value in addition to their intrinsic worth.”

“I see.” She smiled sweetly. “And my ring was crafted by—who did you say?”

“By, um, us.”

“By Portman Jewelers. A name with a long-standing reputation for fine jewelry. One would hope it was well deserved.” She nearly winced at her own arrogance and reminded herself it was for a good cause—getting rid of the last trace of Banner Westfield. “As for its intrinsic value, well, I am in possession of the original receipt for this ring. The price was quite impressive. I would hope that a diamond ring costing as much as my BMW would be worth what my husband paid.” Whoops. The BMW had been Banner’s idea, too; the car would have to go. Maybe she should make a list.

William Portman turned an interesting shade of dusky purple. “Portman Jewelers is competitively priced. The price on your ring was fair. Your diamond is of exceptional quality, Miss Aims.”

“Of course it is. Heirloom quality, some might say. And it comes with a rather interesting history, don’t you agree?” If you were interested in high-profile criminals who committed daring crimes like drug running and attempted murder, that is.

Janet lifted the ring box, admiring the brilliance of the stones. “I had many compliments on the ring. I’m sure you could sell it again. Or even reset the stones. The large one must be quite valuable on its own.”

Portman took the ring from the box, allowing the diamond’s facets to catch the bright overhead lights. Tiny arrows of color shot from its surface, as the smaller diamonds twinkled beside it. “I don’t know.” He spoke quietly, almost to himself. “It would be highly irregular, against store policy.”

Janet felt a surge of excitement—if he was waffling, she had him.

“My father still owns the store, you know,”
Portman continued. “Going strong at seventy-six. He doesn’t care to make exceptions to the rules.”

The final hurdle; she knew just how to handle it. “Oh yes, Lewis Portman. I believe my mother-in-law, Elizabeth Westfield, knows him well.” Janet inserted herself back into the Westfield family temporarily and hoped Elizabeth wouldn’t mind. She seemed to like Janet better than her own son these days anyway. “She’s purchased so many lovely pieces of jewelry from your store over the years.” She paused deliberately. “The Westfields have always been good customers of Portman Jewelers.”

“That’s true.”

She waited while he thought about the possibility of offending a long-term customer. A very
wealthy
long-term customer.

“Unfortunately, I couldn’t give you anything near what Mr. Westfield paid for the ring.”

Warm relief coursed through her, spreading heat to her cold limbs. “I understand completely, Mr. Portman, and I trust you’ll offer a fair price. Oh, and I wonder if you could include this in the purchase. It was a gift from Mr. Westfield, and I would rather not keep it.” Before he could object, she pulled a crinkled wad of tissue from her purse and set it on the counter.

Portman frowned at the tiny bundle as if she’d placed a toad on his immaculate display case. “I really don’t think—”

Janet rushed to remove the tissue before he could reject the piece unseen. A double-strand pearl necklace slithered out, followed by a clunk from the attached pendant. Portman stopped talking.

Janet angled the pendant toward Portman. Inside an ornate, filigreed circle of gold, a large red stone
glowed under the store’s strong fluorescent lights. “If you don’t want it, I’ll take it elsewhere. I just want to get rid of it.” No sense blowing the whole deal because he didn’t want her ugly necklace.

Portman leaned closer. So did Ellie, showing her first glimmer of interest in the proceedings. “When did you get that?” Ellie asked. “It’s kind of gaudy, isn’t it?”

Janet nodded. “Banner bought it for my birthday. I didn’t want to offend him by not wearing it, but it’s awfully heavy and definitely not my style.”

Portman touched the pearled chain, spreading it across the glass to get a better view of the pendant. Janet said nothing and watched his expression grow thoughtful. He was obviously intrigued as he lifted the necklace and let the pendant dangle. Areas of solid gold were decorated with curlicues and raised gold beads. In Janet’s opinion, it skipped over being pretty and went straight to tacky.

“Where did your husband buy this?” he asked without looking away from the necklace.

She was tempted to correct her marital status, but decided not to distract Portman from his obvious fascination with the necklace. If she’d known it would get this sort of reaction, she would have shown it to him before the ring.

“I don’t know where he bought it. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“I have,” Portman murmured, lost in his examination. “Somewhere. The style is quite old; it might be a copy of a museum piece. Quality workmanship…” His voice faded out as he fumbled beneath his collar, pulling out a chain with a gold hexagon on the end. He opened it like a jackknife, revealing a jeweler’s loupe. Portman held it to his eyes and peered closely
at the stone. Seconds passed. He tilted the pendant at different angles, still saying nothing. Janet wondered if he’d forgotten about her.