“Holy crap,” he whispered. “Do you think Sal’s gems might be hiddenthere?”
They looked at each other, and she felt a sparkle ofexcitement.
“Let’s take a look,” hesaid.
She bounded out of bed—which was almost a mistake, because she was buck naked and he definitely noticed. But Leslie neatly evaded his grabby hands and slipped into her robe. “I’m on the trail of some missing gems, scout. We’ll celebrate if I’m right,” she promised, dancing away from him with a sassygrin.
“And if you’renot?”
“We’ll celebrate me beingwrong.”
“Let’sgo,” he said, leading the way to thefoyer.
First they went outside so she could show him the window she meant. He had to drag on his jeans, but she wouldn’t let him take the time to put on a shirt. “It’s not that cold out. Besides, I like looking at all those blacksmithymuscles.”
He complied, his unshaven face slightly pink with pleasure. “If you insist.” They stood on theporch.
“This is the window. See how it looks like there are two next to each other? But only one is litup.”
“I think you might have something there,general.”
Excitement coursed through her as they started back inside to examine the interior wall. “Let me get some tools from my truck,” he said as she went backin.
“Hurry! I’m dying here!” she said, fairly dancing around the foyer in front of the wall in question. “Look—you canseethe seam in the paneling if you look carefullyenough.”
“Patience, woman,” he growled, but he went immediately to the wall and began to examine it. Then he laughed. “The molding around the real window. Look.” He shifted the old, carved piece of wood that framed the window and a door slid open—easy aspie.
“Oh my God,” Leslie squealed, not caring that she sounded like a girl. A girl could get very excited over secret panels and hidden stairways…and maybe even jewels. “Is anything in there?” shedemanded.
But he’d stepped back, smiling at her with affection. “It’s your house, Leslie. Youlook.”
The space was small—just big enough for four bottles of liquor to stand in a tight square. There was one bottle still in there…and something else. Leslie’s heart leaped when she saw the lump in the back of the space, and she locked eyes with Declan as she reached in—only belatedly realizing it could be a deadrodent.
But it wasn’t. It was a velvet pouch, and it had a mass of hard objects in it; she could tell that as soon as she touched it. Her handsshook.
“Oh my God, Declan,” she breathed as she pulled it out. It clinkedsoftly.
“Careful there, sweetheart,” he said, practically breathing down herneck.
With trembling fingers, she pulled the pouch’s cord loose and tipped it so the contents spilled out onto his cuppedhands.
Sparkles: rubies, garnets, sapphires, emeralds…a cascade of jewels, still in their elaborate settings, tumbled into his hands in a rainbowpool.
“Oh…my…” she breathed, hardly able to believe her eyes. “Oh…wow… They’rebeautiful.”
“Whoa,” he said, looking down at the treasure he held. He shifted his fingers so the gems moved and sparkled. Then he took the pouch from her and slid the jewelry backinside.
“All right,” he said with a lascivious grin, “let’scelebrate!”
* * *
Along while later—thankgoodness it was Sunday and neither Leslie nor Declan had to be anywhere today, and Stephanie was more than happy to be hanging out with the girlfriend with whom she’d spent the night—Leslie slipped lazily from her well-usedbed.
She looked down at the delicious man lying there, tumbled among the sheets with his dark hair glinting faintly red from the shaft of sunlight shining through the window. The broad, muscular shoulder, dusted with bronze freckles. The thick-lashed eyes, closed in repose. The slack jaw, unshaven and glinting red and gold and brown. The powerful, gentle, skilled hand curled on the sheet next tohim.
Her heart swelled, and she drew in a soft little hope that this would only be the first of many days likethis.
I’m totally falling for you, my blacksmithscout.
