Heller's Regret (21 page)

I slapped his knee. “Stop it. If anyone
insulted my grandmas, I wouldn’t like to think what would happen to
them.”

He laughed. “What a firecracker you are,
Matilda. You would go fight them?”

“No, I’m not crazy. I’d send you to fight
them,” I grinned at him.

He slipped something out of his pocket and
placed it on my lap. It was a gift.

“Heller!” I said, delighted. “Thank you. I
wasn’t expecting that.”

The wrapping paper was a delicate shimmering
silver in colour. I slowly unwrapped it, making sure I didn’t tear
it.

“Why are you being so careful? It’s only
paper.”

“Because you gave it to me and I want to keep
it forever.”

“I hope you’ll want to keep the gift
more.”

“Of course I will, but I’ll keep the wrapping
paper too.”

“I didn’t realise you were such a fan of
paper. Next time I’ll give you paper wrapped up with more paper.
Imagine your excitement then.”

I giggled. “That would be funny.”

Finished with the paper, I held a jewellery
case in my hands. I shot Heller a querying glance, but he merely
smiled innocently in response. A beautiful necklace nestled inside
the case. From a softly gleaming gold chain studded with diamonds
set at regular intervals, dangled an intricate interlaced design
made entirely of diamonds. Examining it closely, I distinguished a
subtle heart in the midst of the pattern.

“Oh, Heller, it’s so lovely. Thank you.” I
leaned over to kiss him, a gentle embrace of gratitude that he
commandeered, taking it to a more intense level. When he let me go,
I said, “Whew! Thanks for that too.”

He rested his arm across my shoulders. “Do
you know what that symbol is?”

“It’s some kind of Celtic knot, isn’t it? I
can see a heart in the design. Is it a heart knot?”

“I’ve always said you are a very clever
woman. It’s exactly that.”

I traced my finger around the design. “It’s
very beautiful. Does it have any meaning?”

“It certainly does.”

I waited. “Are you going to tell me what that
meaning is?”

“No.”

I turned back to the computer to search for
it, but he lifted my hands from the keyboard. “Not now. It’s rather
late and you need your rest for work tomorrow. Let me put your
necklace on.”

I handed it to him, spinning around on my
chair. “Wearing a diamond necklace in bed? Very decadent.”

“I believe you’ll find it nicer not to be
completely naked in bed.”

I giggled. “You predict the future.”

“With startling accuracy.” He fastened the
necklace and I raced off to the bathroom to admire it.

“I love it. I think it’s the loveliest piece
of jewellery I’ve ever owned.”

“I’m hurt you’ve forgotten about the
paper.”

“It’s the loveliest piece of paper I’ve ever
owned too,” I said, not able to stop giggling as I said it.

“Let’s see what the necklace looks like
without the distraction of clothes.” He pulled off my pyjama top
and yanked down my boxers.

I pirouetted for him. “Well?”

“Perfect. I much prefer it this way.” He
leaned down to kiss each of my breasts, his hand reaching between
my thighs.

Animal heat burned inside me instantly at the
touch of his tongue and his fingers against my warm skin. We
tumbled onto my bed, already entwined, forgetting about everything
else in the world except how good we made each other feel.

Afterwards, I lolled on the bed in that
deeply satisfied state after an explosive orgasm. Lazily, I traced
around his jawline, running my fingers up to his lips. He kissed
each finger.

“This necklace was the second unexpected
thing that happened to me today.”

“What was the other?”

“Clive apologised to me in a very nice way.
He admitted he’d been wrong to send me to that boot camp.”

“Good,” Heller said curtly.

“I hope you’re not still angry with him?”

“Of course not. Clive is like a brother to
me. But what he did was unprofessional. I asked him to ensure you
were safe. Instead he put you in a situation which severely
impacted on your health. He should never have sent you away from
here to a place where he lost contact with you. I was furious with
him. He let me down.” All said with a chilling coldness that I
found difficult to reconcile with the passion he’d just shown
me.

“He took your reprimand hard.”

He shrugged uncaringly. “He’s a grown man.
Clive can handle harsh words. I don’t overlook unprofessionalism in
my staff, no matter who they are.”

I tried to distract him from that touchy
topic. “You wouldn’t like a couple of the jewellery section staff
at the department store. They can’t stand each other and don’t hide
it.”

“I wouldn’t put up with that for a second. I
don’t care what my men think of each other, I expect them to behave
professionally at all times when at work.”

“It’s strange that their manager puts up with
it. She’s quite a tough woman.” I snortled. “She’s taken a real
liking to Farrell. I think he’s her dream man.” I yawned hugely,
belatedly remembering to cover my mouth.

He caught my right arm in his, frowning.
“Matilda, these cuts seem quite red. Have you spoken to the doctor
about that?”

“I’ve been meaning to,” I lied. In fact, I’d
just hoped it would sort itself out, sick of medications and not
wanting to be pulled from the job.

“Make sure that you do. I don’t want to risk
any further infection.”

“I will,” I said, almost meaning it. I’d had
enough of doctors.

Heller flicked off the lamp. “Go to sleep,
Matilda. Morning will come around soon enough and not only do I not
want you tired on the job, but more importantly you need your
rest.”

I rolled over on my side. “I think I should
take my necklace off.”

“Don’t. I want to see you wearing it when I
wake up.” He reached around me to touch the necklace, but his hand
‘somehow’ slipped and cupped my breast instead.

“That’s not my necklace.”

“I know. I’m protecting your beautiful skin
from being scratched by the necklace.”

I laughed. “You have an innocent answer for
everything.”

“I’ve had a lot of experience in developing
innocent answers. Oh, by the way, I’m off on a job tomorrow.”

I sprang up, twisting my body to glare at
him. “Heller, that’s not something to tell me as I’m going to
sleep.”

“I’m sorry, my sweet. I thought I told you
before.”

“Like I’m going to believe
that
excuse
after what you just told me.”

“I’ll miss you while I’m gone.”

I flopped back to the bed and rolled over
again. “Don’t try to sweet talk me. I’m going to sleep. I’ll see
you when you return.”

“Don’t be angry with me.”

“Then don’t spoil a lovely evening by telling
me something I don’t want to hear. You know what I think about you
doing these extra jobs.”

I closed my eyes, and though I worried I
might stay awake for a while fuming, I fell asleep quickly after
the exhausting day and the vigorous romp. When I woke up early the
next morning, he’d already gone, nothing left of him but a faint
indent in the pillow he’d used. I tried to decide if the kiss
goodbye I’d felt was real or just a dream.
Who cares
, I lied
to myself.

Munching on cereal, I fired up my computer,
looking up Celtic heart knots. I wasn’t sure what to think when a
number of sites informed me it symbolised endless love, but it did
the trick in softening my mood towards him.

Endless love.

I sat in front of the computer for a long
time ruminating on that. He’d never spoken of love to me before,
though he’d insisted many times he cared for me deeply. I trusted
him when he said that. I’d always assumed he was incapable of
feeling or expressing romantic love for a woman, especially
considering his promiscuous past. And nothing about our first three
months together had done anything to change my belief in that. I’d
been secretly resigned to, though not necessarily elated about, my
belief that being cared for deeply by an amazing man like him was
as good as it would get for me.

Endless love, huh?
That would keep me
thinking hard for the rest of the day. But typically, he’d pissed
off to parts unknown before I could ask him any awkward questions
about the meaning of that necklace.

Noticing it was closing in on leaving time, I
bolted to dress and return my necklace to its case. I ran down the
stairs, bursting into the section again.

“Chalmers, do you ever enter a room
normally?” asked Farrell in exasperation after I nearly knocked him
out with the door he’d just been about to use to exit – probably to
come looking for me.

“Sorry,” I said sheepishly, a little
breathless. “Something really threw me this morning.”

He scrutinised my face, searching for clues
about what had flustered me so much. But as I didn’t offer any
information and he wasn’t the type to pry, the matter was left at
that.

At the department store, we sipped coffee
standing outside the room again while we waited for opening time on
the collection.

“Last day on the job,” Farrell commented.

“Mmh-hunf,” I replied, my mouth full of
burning coffee. I gulped it down so I’d have time to view the
jewellery in private before the crowds came. Vague curiosity made
me wonder if I’d still feel the same way about the necklace now
that Heller had given me my own beautiful sparkling necklace.

I contemplated it, disappointed it no longer
seemed to have that mesmerising allure for me. When I noticed it
also seemed to have lost its sparkle in my eyes, I took some time
to examine it more closely, patiently waiting until it rotated back
to face me again. The slow realisation dawned on me that it wasn’t
me viewing the necklace differently, there was actually something
different about the necklace. It seemed cheaper, less warm, less
appealing. In fact, it reminded me of the replica necklaces for
sale at the counter.

Oh God,
I thought in alarm
. What
was I thinking?
This was a very serious accusation to raise.
After all, what did I know about precious gemstones? Perhaps
Heller’s present had taken the shine off my admiration for this
necklace.

I approach Farrell hesitantly. “Hugh, this
sounds far-fetched, but I don’t think that’s the same necklace
which was in the display cabinet yesterday.”

He didn’t immediately dismiss me as being
fanciful, for which I was thankful, but came over and examined the
necklace, his nose virtually pushed up against the glass.

“See how the gemstones don’t sparkle as much
as the other jewellery in the cabinets.”

“Maybe they adjusted the lighting?”

“I’m probably wrong and totally embarrassing
myself, but to me it appears similar to the replica necklaces for
sale outside.”

“They are called replicas for a reason,
Chalmers,” he chided lightly, but then redeemed himself. “What
makes you say so?”

“It seems cheaper to me. You know I’ve spent
a lot of time looking at it. It doesn’t
feel
like the other
one to me.”

Our eyes locked together as he assessed my
words. We both knew how significant it would be to bring this hunch
of mine up with store management and then be proved wrong. It would
be disastrous for
Heller’s
reputation.

He went to the door, beckoning someone in.
Francine hurried in, eager to help.

“My colleague believes there is something
wrong with this necklace. That it doesn’t look like the original,
but more like the replicas.”

Unknowingly duplicating Farrell’s stance a
minute ago, Francine inspected the piece, before straightening, her
face ashen. “Tilly, I’m afraid you might be right. That’s
definitely not the original. But I’d feel better if Mrs Burwood
gave us her opinion too.”

Farrell headed out in search of her, but as
if she heard her name, she came into the room before he had the
chance, probably hoping to check him out before starting work for
the day.

“Mrs Burwood,” he said, her eyes lighting up
at the prospect of talking to him. “I hope this isn’t a bother, but
I wonder if you’d mind taking a look at the necklace.”

His request surprised her. “Of course, it’s
no bother.”

She whipped out her handheld jewellers
eyeglass, which I found out much later was called a loupe, and
forensically examined the necklace. She stiffened, her hand splayed
on her chest, gasping out in a strangled voice, “It’s not the same
necklace. It’s a cheap copy.”

Chapter 16

“I think it’s one of the replicas from your
own counter,” I said.

“That’s impossible,” she whispered in total
shock, her face stripped of all colour. “Oh, dear Lord, what am I
going to do?”

“Ring the security manager now,” Farrell
instructed and she trotted off with robotic obedient.

Five minutes later, a large, thickset,
closely shaven man in his fifties, with a receding hairline and the
beginnings of a paunch, rushed into the room. He pulled up at the
display cabinet, puffing. His suit was neatly pressed, his only
decoration a nametag and a prohibitively expensive watch.
Security manager he may be, but he was no Clive
, I surprised
myself by thinking.

Mrs Burwood formally introduced him to us as
Mr Collett. He listened attentively while she explained her
terrible suspicions, Francine standing to the side twisting her
hands together nervously.

“Impossible,” he said, echoing Mrs Burwood’s
earlier words. “Our night time security cameras are top
quality.”

“They were probably disabled,” said
Farrell.

Collett wasn’t having a bar of that argument,
flipping Farrell an impatient, patronising look that wouldn’t have
gone down well with my quiet partner. “Impossible.” That seemed to
be the word of the day in this store, despite the impossible having
apparently occurred. “I think I know what I’m talking about when it
comes to surveillance systems. I exclusively installed security
systems for a very good business when I was in my thirties. I know
what’s top-of-the-range and what’s rubbish, sonny.”