The Trouble with Valentine's. Kelly Hunter
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tiara.’
‘I’m pretty sure the tiara request is a joke. Hallie doesn’t want a tiara.’
Henry’s smile was full of pity. ‘Yet.’
Henry went into organising mode after that, calling two more staff members over and sending them off to fetch the requested jewels.
Ten minutes later the tiaras had been perused and discarded, a dazzling sapphire peacock brooch was still on the table, and the brilliant-cut solitaire diamond engagement ring Nick had picked out earlier was shining away on Hallie’s wedding-ring finger as she tilted it this way and that.
‘I mean it’s beautiful,’ said Hallie. ‘And it’s huge. But I’m not sure it’s me.’
‘Think of it as a prop,’ he offered. ‘A reminder that you’re pretending to be someone else.’
‘Look at this one,’ said Clea, holding up a Celtic-inspired swirl of platinum, studded with rubies.
‘Nick, look!’ said Hallie, her eyes bright with laughter. ‘It looks like something Xia from New Mars would wear. Surely the wife of a world-class computer game designer could have this engagement ring instead of the boring one?’
‘The boring one signals your status more clearly,’ he countered. ‘That one could be a dress ring.’
‘Or a belated Valentine’s gift,’ offered Henry.
‘Not helping, Henry,’ muttered Nick.
Hallie slipped Xia’s ring on her finger and Nick watched her fall in love.
‘Tell her it’s not as expensive,’ said Henry.
‘It’s not as expensive.’
‘Who cares?’ said Hallie, holding her hands up and looking from one ring to the other. ‘You’re not buying. I’m not keeping. Clea, which do you prefer?’
‘The diamond solitaire is the more traditional option.’
‘Is John Tey an observer of tradition?’ asked Hallie and Nick nodded.
‘Damn.’ Hallie sighed and slipped Xia’s ring from her finger and set it back on the table. ‘Goodbye, baby. It was fun while it lasted.’
‘That’s the spirit,’ said Nick. ‘Keep practising those words.’
Clea’s laughter bubbled through the air. Hallie smiled guilelessly and Nick wondered – not for the first time – about the sanity of continuing on this particular path with the not-so-angelic Hallie Bennett in tow.
It still wasn’t too late to back out.
Henry glanced at Nick and narrowly avoided snorting.
‘Your sales manner is atrocious,’ Nick told his old schoolfriend.
‘Fortunately, my bullshit detector is as well honed as ever,’ said Henry. ‘I can set the Valentine ring aside for you for a couple of weeks. You can think about it.’
‘I don’t need the “let me set it aside for you” offer,’ said Nick. ‘I feel special enough.’
‘Old friend,’ drawled Henry. ‘Let me do it for you anyway.’
‘Did you get the week off work?’ Nick asked her as they exited Tiffany’s a short time later.
‘Yes. The owner’s niece is going to fill in for me,’ said Hallie, recalling the conversation she’d had with her employer earlier that morning. No need to tell Nick that if the niece liked the job, Hallie was out of one. If everything went to plan she wouldn’t need the job anyway.
‘What about your brother? The one you’re staying with. Does he know you’re going to Hong Kong?’
‘Not yet. It turns out he’s also going to be away next week.’ And wasn’t that a fine piece of timing. ‘I’ll leave him a note.’
‘That’ll go down well,’ muttered Nick.
‘Trust me. It’s as good a plan as any.’ Hallie smiled brightly. She really didn’t want to dwell on what Tris would have to say about this. ‘So where to now?’
Ten minutes later they were standing outside one of the most exclusive clothing boutiques in Knightsbridge. ‘Are we sure about this?’ asked Hallie hesitantly. Buying an outfit or two from a mid-range clothing store was one thing, dropping a bundle on a week’s worth of designer clothes was quite another. ‘I’m all for being well dressed but do we really need to shop somewhere quite this exclusive?’
‘Don’t worry, dear,’ said Clea. ‘I get a very good discount here.’
‘You want to hope so,’ Hallie muttered to Nick as she stared at the sophisticated power suit in the display window. ‘I think it only fair to warn you that I still have nightmares about the first time my oldest brother took me shopping for clothes. Pinafore dresses that came to my ankles. Sweaters up to my chin. Wide brimmed straw hats …’
‘And very sensible too dear, those hats, what with the harsh Australian sun and your skin type,’ said Clea.
Hallie groaned. And here she’d been hoping that Clea would be an ally when it came to clothes. ‘My point is I battled for years for the right to choose my own clothes and I’m not about to relinquish it now.’ She pointed a stern finger at Nick. ‘You can tell me what kind of look you’re after but I won’t have you choosing clothes for me. Are we clear on that?’
‘Well, I—’
‘Having said that, I will of course ask your opinion on the things I’ve chosen. I’m not an unreasonable woman. You can tell me if you like something.’
‘And if I don’t?’
Hallie considered the question. She could be a bit contrary at times. ‘Probably best not to say anything,’ she said and, squaring her shoulders, sailed on into the shop.
The boutique was streamlined and classy, the coiffed and polished saleswoman just that little bit daunting, never mind that she greeted Clea with friendly familiarity.
‘Size eight, I think,’ said the saleswoman after turning an assessing eye on Hallie.
‘Ten,’ said Hallie.
‘In this shop, darling, you’re an eight.’
Hallie liked the woman better already.
‘Do you have any colour preferences?’ the woman asked.
‘I like them all.’
The saleswoman barely suppressed a shudder. ‘Yes, dear. But do they all like you? Let’s start with grey.’
Hallie opened her mouth to protest but the woman was having none of it. She pulled a matching skirt and jacket from the rack and held them out commandingly. ‘Of course, it relies on the wearer for colour and life but I think you’ve got that covered.’
‘Umm …’ Hallie took the suit from the woman and held it up for Nick’s inspection. ‘What do you think?’
‘I’m confused,’ he said. ‘If I tell you I like it you may or may not decide to buy it, depending on whether you like it. However, if I say I don’t like it you’ll feel compelled to buy it whether you like it or not. Am I right?’
‘Yes.’ Hallie felt a smile coming on. ‘So what do you think?’
‘Try it on.’
And then when she did and his eyes narrowed and his face grew carefully impassive. ‘No?’ she asked. ‘It’s probably not the look you were after.’
‘Yes,’ he said firmly. ‘It is.’
Still she hesitated. ‘It’s very—’
‘Elegant,’ he said. ‘Understated. Just what