Red-Hot Honeymoon: The Honeymoon Arrangement / Marriage in Name Only? / The Honeymoon That Wasn't. Debbi RawlinsЧитать онлайн книгу.
fake wife needs a fake ring,’ she said, lifting her arm and wiggling the fingers of her left hand.
Finn twisted his lips as he stepped into her hallway and wound his way around her bags. ‘I didn’t even think of that.’ He looked at his watch and sighed his annoyance. ‘Liz still has the engagement ring I bought her.’
Callie’s mouth dropped open. ‘I am not wearing your ex’s ring!’
A shallow dimple appeared in Finn’s cheek. ‘You’re pretty picky for a wife who isn’t actually my wife!’
Callie lifted her nose. ‘I still have standards—fake or not.’
Finn sighed. ‘I suppose we could pick up something at the airport.’
Callie lifted her eyebrows. The only jewellery stores at the airport were high-end and very expensive, and she couldn’t justify him splurging for a ring that she’d only wear for three weeks. She quickly did a mental stroll through her jewellery collection in the hope that she had something remotely engagement-ring-like. Then she remembered the large velvet jewellery box Seb had left with her just after he’d got engaged to Rowan.
‘It’s mostly Grandma’s jewellery, with a couple of pieces our mother left behind,’ he’d said. ‘You should have them.’
Callie hadn’t wanted to keep the box and she’d never bothered to look inside. It was still at the back of her lingerie drawer, where she’d shoved it a year or so ago.
She still didn’t want to open it, but this was an emergency.
‘How much time have we got before we have to leave?’ she asked Finn as she turned towards the stairs.
‘A half hour or so,’ Finn replied. ‘Why? Do you have some diamond rings stashed upstairs?’
‘Maybe,’ Callie replied, hearing Finn’s footsteps behind her. She turned, faced him, and for once they were eye to eye. ‘It might be better if you stay down here.’
‘Why?’
‘My room. It’s a bit messy.’ Catastrophic was a better word, Callie thought.
‘I’ve seen messy before,’ Finn told her.
‘Not like this, you haven’t,’ Callie assured him. Seeing the stubborn look on his face, she sighed and shrugged. ‘Don’t say I didn’t warn you.’
Dear God! Finn looked around the master bedroom, his mouth open wide enough to catch flies. Who had so many clothes and why were they scattered everywhere?
When he managed to find his voice, he croaked the words out. ‘Newsflash, Callie: clothes can be put back into cupboards as well as taken out.’
Callie stepped over a pile of shoes as she headed to her dresser. ‘No point,’ she said over her shoulder. ‘While I was trying to decide what to pack I realised that I have far too many clothes—’
‘Seriously? I would never have guessed that!’ Finn said from the doorway, thinking that if he went in he might not find his way out. Ever.
Callie ignored his interruption. ‘And I decided that I need to clean out my wardrobe. That pile is for Rowan, that pile is for the secondhand shop, and that pile is to be donated.’ She waved her hands around the room.
Finn leaned a shoulder into the doorframe and crossed his arms. ‘Damn …’ he muttered again.
Callie yanked open a drawer in her dresser and Finn’s mouth went dry as she tossed a pile of rainbow-coloured thongs and bras onto a chair. They were skimpy and frothy and ultra-feminine.
‘I get samples from the designers I do business with,’ Callie said, seemingly oblivious to the fact that he was mentally stripping her in an attempt to see what she wearing under that sexy, stylish dress.
It would probably be the same sexy deep pink, he decided. Callie was nothing if not colour co-ordinated.
‘I can’t remember when last I actually went to a store and bought clothes. That’s why I had so much fun shopping for you.’
With difficulty Finn raised his eyes to her face and tried to look as if he had heard her. But he was a guy—distract him with sexy lingerie and his brain headed south. With his blood. And his hearing.
‘Ah—got it.’
Finn watched as Callie pulled out a large jewellery box and, cradling it in both hands, walked back towards him. She skirted the bed and sat on the side closest to him, on top of a pile of jackets, putting the box down next to her. A wistful, sad, wary look passed across her face and he straightened, all thoughts of sex and lingerie gone. This box meant something to her, and he wasn’t sure if it was a good or bad something. Probably a mixture of both.
Then, very surprisingly, she stood up, picked up the box and thrust it towards him. Finn caught it as it hit his chest and she dropped it from her grasp.
‘Look in there and see if you can find something that I can wear. If there isn’t anything then I’m afraid you’re out of luck. I’ll be downstairs.’
Finn frowned as she slipped past him and ran down the stairs. Putting the box on the bedside table, he switched on the light and flipped the lid. His breath caught at the blink of gold inside. It was a pirate’s treasure box, he thought, bubbling with thick gold chains and bracelets and the occasional flash of a precious stone in a pendant.
Lifting up a handful of chains, silver and gold, some with pendants and some without, he saw that there were smaller boxes below and dumped the chains on the bed. The first box held earrings—mostly old-fashioned, but there was a nice pair of diamond studs he could see Callie wearing. The next box held rings, and he pulled in his breath as he ran his fingers over the jewels.
Of the eight or so in the box there were at least four that would pass as engagement rings, and three had matching wedding bands. One ring fascinated him: it looked older than the others—a big diamond, with spikes of platinum radiating in another circle embedded with tiny diamonds. A thin band sat under the diamond and he presumed that was a wedding band.
Finn held it under the light and on the inside could just make out the date: June the sixth, 1909.
That’ll do, he thought, tucking it into the pocket of his pants.
He quickly replaced the boxes he’d taken out and dumped the tangle of chains back inside the larger box. Snapping the lid shut, he walked across to the near empty cupboard, found a shoebox and tossed the shoes inside on to the floor. Sliding the jewellery box into the shoebox, he used his height to stretch up and hide the box behind another pile of shoeboxes.
He wondered why he was bothering. If any thieves broke in and found themselves in Callie’s bedroom while she was away they’d think she’d been ransacked already and leave.
Finn tried to close the cupboard doors and wondered why Callie wouldn’t deal with the box herself. Why would a woman who obviously loved clothes—and, he presumed, accessories—ignore a box full of such amazing jewellery? Why couldn’t she even open it to look inside for a ring she needed?
Strange. But interesting. Curiosity, he reminded himself, and he didn’t need to indulge it. Not where Callie was concerned.
Finn rubbed the back of his neck, thinking that she couldn’t do the jewellery box and he couldn’t do his bedroom. Maybe they deserved each other.
Finn left the room and jogged down the stairs. He found Callie sitting on a chair in her hallway, legs crossed and her foot jiggling.
She looked up at him with those amazing reticent eyes. ‘Did you find something?’
‘Lots of things,’ Finn said, keeping his voice easy. ‘That’s quite a little treasure trove you’ve got there. That box should be in a safe, by the way.’
Callie lifted a bare shoulder. ‘I wouldn’t know. I’ve never looked inside.’
‘Why