The Stars of Mithra: Hidden Star

As he spoke, Cade eased himself inside, much, Bailey thought, like a salesman with his foot propped in a door. Ronald continued to frown and back up.

“This is Bailey. Muffy might have told you a little about her.” In a proprietary move, Cade wrapped his arm around Bailey’s shoulder and pulled her to his side.

“Yes, how do you do?”

“I’ve been keeping her to myself,” Cade added before Bailey could speak. “I guess you can see why.” Smoothly Cade tipped Bailey’s face up to his and kissed her. “I appreciate you letting us play with your equipment. Bailey’s thrilled. Sort of a busman’s holiday for her, showing me how she works with stones.” He shook her purse so that the stones inside rattled.

“You’ve never shown any interest in gems before,” Ronald pointed out.

“I didn’t know Bailey before,” Cade said easily. “Now, I’m fascinated. And now that I’ve talked her into staying in the States, she’s going to have to think about setting up her own little boutique. Right, sweetheart?”

“I—”

“England’s loss is our gain,” he continued. “And if one of the royals wants another bauble, they’ll have to come here. I’m not letting you get away.” He kissed her again, deeply, while Ronald stood huffing and tugging at his tie.

“Cade tells me you’ve been designing jewelry for some time. It’s quite an endorsement, having the royal family select your work.”

“It’s sort of keeping it in the family, too,” Cade said with a wink. “With Bailey’s mama being one of Di’s cousins. Was that third or fourth cousin, honey? Oh, well, what’s the difference?”

“Third,” Bailey said, amazed at herself not only for answering, but also for infusing her voice with the faintest of upper-class British accents. “They’re not terribly close. Cade’s making too much of it. It’s simply that a few years ago a lapel pin I’d fashioned caught the eye of the Princess of Wales. She’s quite a keen shopper, you know.”

“Yes, yes, indeed.” The tony accent had a sizable effect on a man with Ronald’s social requirements. His smile spread, his voice warmed. “I’m delighted you could stop by. I do wish I could stay, show you around.”

“We don’t want to keep you.” Cade was already thumping Ronald on the back. “Muffy told me you’re entertaining.”

“It’s terribly presumptuous of Cade to interrupt your holiday. I would so love a tour another time.”

“Of course, anytime, anytime at all. And you must try to drop by the house later this evening.” Pumped up at the thought of entertaining even such a loose connection with royalty, Ronald began to usher them toward the jeweler’s work area. “We’re very select in our equipment, as well as our stones. The Westlake reputation has been unimpeachable for generations.”

“Ah, yes.” Her heart began to thud as she studied the equipment in the glass-walled room, the worktables, the saws, the scales. “Quite top-of-the-line.”

“We pride ourselves on offering our clientele only the best. We often cut and shape our own gems here, and employ our own lapidaries.”

Bailey’s hand shook lightly as she passed it over a wheel. A lap, she thought, used to shape the stone. She could see just how it was done—the stone cemented to the end of a wooden stick, a dop, held against the revolving lap wheel with the aid of a supporting block adjacent to the wheel.

She knew, could hear the sounds of it. Feel the vibrations.

“I enjoy lap work,” Bailey said faintly. “The precision of it.”

“I’m afraid I only admire the craftsmen and artists. That’s a stunning ring. May I?” Ronald took her left hand, examined the trio of stones arranged in a gentle curve and set in etched gold. “Lovely. Your design?”

“Yes.” It seemed the best answer. “I particularly enjoy working with colored stones.”

“You must see our stock sometime soon.” Ronald glanced at his watch, clucked his tongue. “I’m running quite late. The security guard will let you back out when you’re done. Please take all the time you want. I’m afraid the showroom itself is locked, time-locked, and you’ll need the guard to open the rear door, as it engages from inside and out.” He sent Bailey a professional-to-professional smile. “You’d understand how important security is in the business.”

“Of course. Thank you so much for your time, Mr. Westlake.”

Ronald took Bailey’s offered hand. “Ronald, please. And it’s my pleasure. You mustn’t let Cade be so selfish of you. Muffy is very much looking forward to meeting her future sister-in-law. Be sure to drop by later.”

Bailey made a strangled sound, easily covered by Cade’s quick chatter as he all but shoved Ronald out of the work area.

“Sister-in-law?” Bailey managed.

“I had to tell them something.” All innocence, Cade spread his hands. “They’ve been campaigning to get me married off again since the ink was dry on my divorce decree. And you being royalty, so to speak, puts you several societal steps up from the women they’ve been pushing on me.”

“Poor Cade. Having women shoved at him right and left.”

“I’ve suffered.” Because there were dangerous glints in her eyes, he tried his best smile. “You have no idea how I’ve suffered. Hold me.”

She slapped his hand away. “Is this all a big joke to you?”

“No, but that part of it was fun.” He figured his hands would be safer in his pockets. “I guarantee my sister’s been burning up the phone lines since I talked to her this morning. And now that Ronald’s got a load of you—”

“You lied to your family.”

“Yeah. Sometimes it’s fun. Sometimes it’s just necessary for survival.” He angled his head. “You slipped right into the stream, sweetheart. That accent was a nice touch.”

“I got caught up, and I’m not proud of it.”

“You might make a good operative. Let me tell you, lying quick and lying well is one of the top requirements of the job.”

“And the end justifies the means?”

“Pretty much.” It was starting to irritate him, the disapproving ice in her voice. He had the feeling Bailey wasn’t nearly as comfortable in gray areas as he was. “We’re in, aren’t we? And Ronald and Muffy are going to have a rousing success with their little party. So what’s the problem?”

“I don’t know. I don’t like it.” A lie, the simple fact of a lie, made her miserably uncomfortable. “One lie just leads to another.”

“And enough of them sometimes lead to the truth.” He took her bag, opened it and pulled out the velvet pouch, slid the diamond into his hand. “You want the truth, Bailey? Or do you just want honesty?”

“It doesn’t seem like there should be a difference.” But she took the stone from him. “All right, as you said, we’re here. What do you want me to do?”

“Make sure it’s real.”

“Of course it’s real,” she said impatiently. “I know it’s real.”

He merely arched a brow. “Prove it.”

With a huffing breath, she turned and headed for a microscope. She employed the dark-field illuminator, adjusting the focus on the binocular microscope with instinctive efficiency.

“Beautiful,” she said after a moment, with a tint of reverence in her voice. “Just beautiful.”

“What do you see?”

“The interior of the stone. There’s no doubt it’s of natural origin. The inclusions are characteristic.”

“Let’s see.” He nudged her aside, bent to the microscope himself. “Could be anything.”

“No, no. There are no air bubbles. There would be if it was paste, or strass. And the inclusions.”