Buch lesen: «If the Ring Fits...»

CHAPTER ONE

“I’M divorced.” Rachel Palmer raised her chin after saying so and affected a smile.

Hmm. She sounded defensive. She wrinkled her nose at her reflection in the mirror and tried again.

“I’m no longer married.” This time she added a careless shrug to the mix. It didn’t help.

Hands on her hips, she announced baldly, “That’s right. Mal has been doing the nasty with his secretary, and I was the last to know.”

Sucker.

Maybe she should just stamp that on her forehead and be done with it. If only it were that simple.

As Rachel was discovering, divorce wasn’t an ending. Nor was it a beginning exactly. It was a transition. An emotional, a physical and, certainly, a financial shift of seismic proportions. The problem was she had no idea where she would wind up once the tectonic plates of her life settled down again.

She needed to figure it out and fast. As of yesterday afternoon, her marriage was officially over, decreed so not only by the two parties involved but by the state of Michigan. Rachel Palmer, née Preston, was a single woman once more. She wrinkled her nose again at her reflection. A single woman inching toward thirty-three and past her prime child-bearing years, as her mother so helpfully had pointed out during dinner the previous evening.

Dinner had been Heidi’s idea. Her younger sister said they should go to Maxie’s, the same upscale restaurant where Mal had proposed, and celebrate.

“It will be like erasing the past. A do-over. Come on, Rach. Now isn’t the time for mourning,” Heidi had insisted cheerfully as they’d left the Oakland County courthouse.

Against her better judgment, Rachel had agreed. She’d regretted it as soon as a round of fruit-garnished drinks arrived at their table. While their mother nibbled pineapple off the skewer, Heidi had raised her glass.

“Here’s to the start of an exciting new chapter in your life.”

Exciting new chapter? Her sister should have been named Pollyanna. It fit her perpetually optimistic personality.

Rachel had reached for her water. “Heidi—”

“If you’re free tomorrow night, I have someone interested in meeting you. We can double date.”

“Heidi—” Once again that was as far as she’d got before her sister cut her off.

“Oh, don’t worry. He’s nice and harmless.” The younger woman had scrunched up her face and taken another sip of her overly sweet drink. “Kind of boring, actually, but he’s polite and well-groomed. The first guy doesn’t count anyway. Everyone understands he’ll just be your rebound man.”

“I don’t think this week will work for me.” Or the next, or the next…indefinitely. But Rachel knew her sister. It was best to leave it open and save herself the inevitable argument.

“You haven’t been out in ages, Rach.”

Rachel’s mouth had fallen open at that. “I just got divorced. Today.”

Their mother had made an indelicate snorting noise. “That didn’t stop Mal.”

Heidi had taken a more diplomatic approach. “You and Mal were legally separated for the past year. You even stopped wearing your wedding band three months ago.”

“In part to get you off my back. You kept hounding me about it,” Rachel had shot back.

Besides, the ring represented a promise, one that had been broken. But Rachel didn’t agree with Heidi’s assessment that she needed to get back into the dating scene right away. It wasn’t that she still loved Mal. Oh, she mourned the demise of their marriage and the failure it represented, but she wasn’t pining over her ex any longer. Even so, that didn’t make the thought of dating again any more palatable.

Rachel’s hollow-eyed self gazed back at her in the mirror now. She wasn’t like her outgoing younger sibling, who could strike up a conversation with a stranger in the grocery store and then be invited out for dinner or drinks. She’d found meeting men awkward and intimidating when she was twenty-two. She didn’t delude herself that it would be any easier as a divorced woman of thirty-two.

She turned on the faucet and splashed cold water on her face in the hope of obliterating the dark circles under her eyes. Unfortunately, they were still there after she blotted her face dry with the towel. She did her best to camouflage them with some concealer, and then added mascara to her lashes. They were long and thick and by far one of her best features. Maybe no one would notice the circles if she played up her lashes. After applying tinted moisturizer and a little blusher to her cheeks, she pulled her hair back in a clip. She might not be able to wrap her mind around Heidi’s “new chapter” description, but it was a new day. And it was time to get ready for work.

It was just before eight o’clock when she pulled her car into the nearly empty municipal lot behind Expressive Gems, the jewelry store she owned in Rochester’s charming downtown. Not only did she sell jewelry, five years ago she’d begun to do some serious designing. When inspiration struck, she could lose herself in her job for hours. She’d entertained dreams that went beyond the little shop, dreams that hadn’t seemed realistic or practical while married to Mal. Indeed, he’d discouraged them. He was unhappy as it was that so much of her time was taken up at the shop. But now? New day, new chapter. It was something to think about, she decided as she pulled the lapels of her coat together and hustled across the parking lot.

The weather was turning right along with the leaves. The wind didn’t help. Another week and the trees that dotted the street out front would be aflame in hues of red and orange. Rachel liked autumn, although she couldn’t help dreading the long Michigan winter that would come after it.

She let herself in via the employee entrance, balancing her purse and travel mug of coffee as she unlocked the door and deactivated the alarm. Then she switched off the interior security lights and flipped on the overheads. The aroma of roses hit her almost immediately. She kept a lush arrangement near the display cases in the front. They had another day, maybe two, before they would need to be replaced. Some had started to wilt.

Jewelry shopping was about mood and emotions. In particular, it was about romance. She suppressed the twinge of betrayal she felt thinking about the receipts for a high-end jewelry store across town in Mal’s coat pocket that had led to the discovery of his infidelity. It was bad enough he’d cheated on her, but then he had to go and buy his bimbo jewelry at the store of a competitor who surely recognized his name.

A brisk knock sounded at the front entrance as she finished making a pot of coffee in the shop’s small break room. The sign on the door clearly read Closed. She hadn’t turned it over yet, nor would she for another forty-five minutes. As tempted as she was to ignore the interruption, she went to see who it was.

She had a licensed general contractor coming, though the appointment wasn’t until ten o’clock. Perhaps he was early. Very early, she thought, glancing at the clock. Depending on where the estimate came in, Rachel was hoping to renovate the storage space over the shop and turn it into an apartment. The house she and Mal owned jointly was on the market. Per their settlement, the equity was to be split evenly between them when it sold. She planned to use her half to buy Mal’s investment in Expressive Gems from him. The deed to the shop was in her name, but Mal was a cosigner on the loan she’d taken out to purchase inventory when she’d first started designing her own jewelry. That also was the deal they’d worked out through their lawyers.

While the housing market was slow, Rachel needed to get serious about finding a new place to live—hence the appointment with the contractor. When she’d first purchased the old building, she’d considered turning it into an income property. It had the potential to become a decent studio apartment. Then she and Mal had married and she’d put those plans on hold. Much like her career plans beyond the shop, she thought with chagrin.

When she reached the door, it wasn’t the contractor who stood on the other side of the glass. It was Tony Salerno. The collar of his trench coat was flipped up against the damp breeze. His grin flashed white in his tanned face when he spotted her. The smile she offered in return was as polite as it was automatic. He was Expressive Gems’s best customer, and as such, one of the few people for whom she would open early.

His smile said he knew it.

“Mr. Salerno. Good morning.”

“Buongiorno, carina.”

Despite her best efforts, gooseflesh pricked on her arms. In addition to being her best customer, Tony was hands down her most handsome, with hair the color of espresso and a pair of eyes that leaned toward hazel. His mouth was wide, sensual. When he conversed with members of the opposite sex, it curved into the sort of smile best saved for the bedroom. Add in the sexy remains of an Italian accent—he’d immigrated to the United States from Florence with his mother when he was thirteen—and he was never without female companionship.

Since Tony could afford to be generous, he never was without the need for glittery trinkets to bestow on those women. Hence his unofficial status as Expressive Gems’s benefactor. Thanks to his regular patronage and appreciation for her work, she’d had the resources to devote to her own designs. Still, Rachel never felt completely at ease around him. He made her feel ridiculously feminine and self-conscious. That was especially true on this day, with her sister’s talk of dating echoing in her head.

As he stepped inside, Rachel tucked behind her ears the mousy hair that had fallen out of her clip, and tried not to think about how long it had been since she’d gone in for highlights.

“This is a surprise,” she said.

“A pleasant one, I hope.” Before she could respond, he was chiding, “How many times must I ask you to call me Tony?”

He’d done so on half a dozen occasions already, but Rachel preferred the professionalism a courtesy title lent their relationship, as well as the distance it created. Flirting came as naturally to the man as breathing. She had four employees, all of them women, and all of them completely smitten. Rachel wasn’t smitten. Married women didn’t get smitten. She frowned as the realization dawned anew. She wasn’t married any longer. Which meant it was perfectly acceptable to find Tony attractive and to flirt right back…if she wanted to.

“You are frowning,” he remarked.

“I’m trying to recall the last time you visited Expressive Gems,” she evaded. “It’s been months.”

“At least nine. Much, much too long.” His gaze skimmed down from her face and he murmured, “Che bella.”

Rachel exhaled softly between her teeth. If someone were to bottle up that sexy accent and sell it as an aphrodisiac, they could make a fortune. And that was before his voice dropped to a husky whisper and he asked, “Have you missed me?”

The gooseflesh was back. Or more likely it never had left.

“Of course, I have. After all, you’re one of our favorite customers.”

Not to mention the one whose patronage was going to help fund a good portion of the upstairs renovation.

He chuckled at her diplomatic dodge. “Your husband is a lucky man, carina.”

He’d made that very comment several times in the past. Should she correct him? She kept her smile in place and instead decided to let it pass. She folded her hands in front of her. Tony studied her, one side of his mouth turned up in consideration. While he appeared perfectly at ease, she discreetly nibbled the inside of her cheek. The coffee wasn’t ready yet. In the quiet shop, she could hear the machine still gurgling away in the break room. She would offer him a cup when it finished. For now she said, “Let me take your coat.”

“Grazie.”

As he slipped off the trench, she was determined not to let the conversation lapse again. “You’re out and about early today.”

“Jet lag. I just returned to town yesterday. I could not sleep. I have been up for hours.” His smile turned apologetic. “I saw the lights on while I was on my way to the bakery for bagels and decided to take the chance that you would be willing to let me in a little early. Allora…” He shrugged.

He used that word a lot. She wasn’t sure exactly what it meant, but it seemed to act as the Italian equivalent of “so.”

“I got in early myself. I like to arrive before my employees. I get the coffee going and just relax for a little while.”

“Ah, then I really must thank you for taking pity on me.”

A man such as Tony Salerno inspired many emotions. Pity, however, was not among them.

As Rachel hung his trench on the coat tree next to the door, she caught a whiff of his cologne. The scent was sensual, sexy, sigh-worthy. The conversation she’d had the evening before with Heidi popped into her head.

The first guy doesn’t count anyway. Everyone understands he’ll just be your rebound man.

Tony Salerno would make one heck of a rebound.

What was she thinking?

Rachel tossed Tony’s coat onto a hook and turned back to him with a guilty smile. Her tone was a little breathless when she said, “I’m afraid I have no bagels to offer, but the coffee is almost ready. Would you like a cup?”

“Si, per favora. I take it—”

“Black,” she interjected.

His lips curved. “You remember.”

It was her job to remember the preferences of her best customers. The fact that she couldn’t think how any of her other regulars took their coffee didn’t mean anything. She went to pour them each a cup.

When she returned to the showroom, he was sitting on a tall metal stool in front of the long glass case that held her designs. The heel of one supple leather loafer was hooked on the bottom rung. Despite his claim of jet lag, his appearance was impeccable. No bloodshot eyes. No dark circles. And his hair looked gently tousled rather than ravished by the wind. With his lean build, he wore clothes well, whether the style was casual or formal and sophisticated. Today he had on a toffee-colored sweater—she’d bet it was cashmere—and black gabardine trousers that probably cost more than the shop’s monthly mortgage. He straightened when he saw her, and then stood to take one of the white porcelain mugs adorned with the shop’s logo.

“Thank you, signora.”

Rachel’s understanding of Italian was limited, but she understood courtesy titles. This made twice he’d referenced her marital state. She decided to correct him this time.

“Actually, it’s miss now. I’m divorced.” The words came out with surprising ease. Apparently, all of that practice in front of the bathroom mirror earlier had paid off.

“Signorina.”

Tony said it slowly, almost as if testing the word on his tongue. Then his mouth curved with another of those toe-curling smiles that made her feel so self-conscious. She held the mug of steaming coffee close to her face and sipped, pretending to be unaware of the way he was studying her.

“Should I offer my condolences on the demise of your marriage?” he asked after a moment.

“Condolences? No,” she said honestly. She set the coffee down on counter. In the case beneath it, the gemstones she’d worked into various designs winked as they caught the light. The sight always reminded her of Christmas. The holiday would be here before she knew it. It wouldn’t be her first without Mal. They’d spent it apart last year, as well. She’d been sad then, shell-shocked by all of his deceptions. She was nobody’s fool now.

Next to her, Tony sipped his coffee. “But I gather that congratulations would not be appropriate, either.”

She nodded, surprised he understood, even more surprised when she confided, “My sister claims I’m starting an exciting new chapter in my life.”

“This sister, is she older?”

“Younger. Just out of college.”

“Well, younger or not, she is correct. Am I correct in thinking you do not quite agree?”

Rachel focused on the colorful gems. “It’s all so new.”

“If there is anything I can do…” Tony left it at that.

Several other people—Rachel’s friends, her employees, Heidi and her mother—had made similar offers over the months as Rachel’s attempts to resuscitate her marriage failed and she was forced to accept the inevitable. Tony’s was probably rooted in politeness more so than practicality. They had no real relationship, after all, save for a business one. Even so, she appreciated the gesture.

“Thank you. That’s kind.”

His voice lowered and his gaze turned intense. “I say what I mean, signorina. If you need anything—anything—you have only to ask.”

He laid a hand over hers as he said it. His fingers were long and tapered, and adorned with one simple gold ring that bore a crest of some sort. The design wasn’t hers, but she admired the excellent workmanship. She focused on the ring, afraid to meet his gaze. She wasn’t sure which had her more discombobulated, the heat radiating from his hand or the fact that he clearly meant what he said. Either way, she was being foolish. She had to swallow twice before she could speak and change the subject.

“So, where did your travels take you this time?” As surreptitiously as possible, she pulled her hand free and picked up her coffee mug once again.

Tony wrote features for a travel magazine that catered to upscale tastes. In fact, he owned the magazine, as well as a couple of others, all of which were based in New York and aimed at people who had more money than they could spend in five lifetimes.

He knew his target audience well, since he counted himself among their elite number. From the chatter of her employees, Rachel knew that in addition to an estate in well-heeled Rochester Hills, which he considered home since it was close to where his family lived, Tony kept an apartment in Manhattan, another in Rome and had executive suites on reserve at luxury hotels in both Paris and London.

He didn’t need to work, but he’d once told Rachel that he enjoyed writing too much to sit back and let others have all the fun doing it for him. Rachel respected him for that, even if she didn’t exactly respect his playboy lifestyle. The man went through women the way some people went through napkins. Still, no one could argue he wasn’t generous with them, a fact she knew well since it benefited Expressive Gems’s bottom line.

“I spent most of my time in Milan with trips to London, Paris, Monaco, Berlin and Stockholm.”

“Is that all?” she drawled.

His shoulders rose at the same time the corners of his mouth turned down. The gesture was decidedly European. “I was working.”

“You found some time to play, I trust.”

His smile was quick and lethal. “I always find time to play. I would be a dull, dull boy otherwise. No?”

Dull and boy were two words Rachel would never think to use to describe the man before her. She cleared her throat. “So, what are you writing about now?”

“The best places to stay and dine during fashion week in each city, with a side piece on up-and-coming designers to watch.”

“I suppose you had to interview a lot of models for that.”

His careless shrug was at odds with his Casanova smile. “They have a unique perspective to offer.”

“One model in particular, I’m guessing.”

Again, the smile. “Astrid.”

Rachel pictured a long-limbed and graceful beauty. “And you are here today looking for something special to give her. A token of your affection and appreciation?”

“Pazzesco!” He flashed a smile. “You know me too well.”

Actually, what Rachel knew was his type. Tony was a lot like her absentee father, who’d left her mother when Heidi was barely out of diapers. Griff Preston had popped in and out of his daughters’ lives since then, showering them with gifts that were a poor substitute for his time and affection.

“So, what are you thinking? A necklace? Perhaps a bracelet? Or maybe a pair of earrings?”

Tony never purchased a ring. Too much could be read in to that, he’d told her once, and she thought he had a point.

“A necklace, I think. Astrid has a lovely neck. It will make an exquisite showcase for one of your designs.”

Rachel pulled out a pad of paper to jot down some notes. Already, ideas were flashing in her mind. She loved this part of the process.

“Let’s talk about style. If you want to showcase her neck, perhaps a choker would be best. Something delicate, feminine. Maybe pearls, three or four rows, threaded together with silver wire.”

But he was shaking his head. “A choker sits too high.” He touched Rachel’s neck. “I want something longer that falls about here.” The tip of his finger glided slowly from the hollow of her throat to the lowest point visible in the V of her blouse. Her breath hitched.

“Ah. More of a pendant, then,” she managed.

“Yes. Something to draw attention to her other assets.”

“Why don’t you tell me a little bit about Astrid?” It was standard practice. It helped Rachel with the design process. But she also couldn’t help but be curious about the glamorous women Tony dated.

He rubbed his jaw. Even though he hadn’t shaved, the dark stubble that shaded his jaw didn’t do anything to detract from his appearance. “She’s very interested in astrology and numerology, tarot cards.”

“And her sign?” She said it tongue-in-cheek, but he answered with a straight face.

“Pisces.”

“What does she look like, other than being gorgeous, since that much is a given?”

“Well, she is Swedish. Pale, creamy skin.”

“Blonde?”

“Yes, with eyes nearly as blue as yours. Her lashes are not as lush, though.”

He’d noticed her eyes? Rachel made a little humming noise in the back of her throat before asking, “And how old is she?”

“Twenty-three.”

Ah. That made Astrid just a year younger than Mal’s secretary.

“She’s been modeling professionally since she was fourteen,” Tony was saying.

“Fourteen, hmm. Where are those child-labor laws when you need them?”

“You think she is too young for me.” His expression held more amusement than insult.

“I make no judgments,” she said hastily. Then she exhaled and shook her head. “At least I shouldn’t. I mean, who am I to judge anyone’s relationship?”

“I am sorry, carina.”

Embarrassed by her outburst as much as by the sympathy she saw in his eyes, Rachel got back to business.

“Does Astrid have a favorite gemstone?”

“Diamonds.” His laughter rumbled and he shook his head. “I think a warmer stone would suit her better.”

Tony never went for diamonds. He didn’t have to tell Rachel that, as with the purchase of a ring, too much could be read into that particular stone, as well.

Rachel took the key ring from the pocket of her blazer, unlocked the case and retrieved a black-velvet-lined tray from the bottom shelf. Loose stones of various cuts, sizes and colors glittered under the lights.

“Do you see anything here that catches your eye? Don’t worry about the cut or size. Anything you select I can cut and size to suit. We’re just picking out a gemstone right now.”

Tony settled on an aquamarine—Astrid’s birthstone—in a triangular-shaped or “trilliant” cut that would be set in platinum. He wanted no less than three carats for the stone. As for the rest of the design, including the kind of chain, he left that to Rachel. She was thinking of something that would pull in Astrid’s interest in astrology. She appreciated his trust in her artistic judgment. Some customers were so specific about what they wanted and they insisted on being so involved in the process that they left little room for creativity. In those cases, she was left to craft their vision. She much preferred conjuring up one of her own.

“When would you like to pick it up?” she asked as she wrote up the order.

“I will be in town for the next several weeks. Astrid will be in New York the last weekend in November for a magazine photo shoot. Would that be enough time?”

She did some quick calculations in her head. If the stone he wanted came in quickly from her supplier, it would be more than enough time. She had little else on her plate, professionally or personally.

“It shouldn’t be a problem. Shall we say the Wednesday before Thanksgiving, then?”

Tony nodded as he rose. “Perfect. I cannot wait to see what you create.”

The smile she gave him was fueled by genuine pleasure rather than mere politeness. Not only had designing jewelry paid her bills, during the past several months, it had saved her sanity.

She meant it when she said, “I’m very eager to get started.”

“Until I see you again, bella.”

“Yes. Until then.”