Kurt remained where he was, gazing at the last pendant. When he turned to Penny, she thought she saw flash of understanding in him which was at odds with his apparent slowness of movement. She almost reached out a hand to tug him away, but any attempt to move this solid male would be futile. Her heart sank as he tilted his head in the direction of the pendant she was willing him to ignore.
“What about this one?” He slid his hand gently under the gemstones and tilted them up to the window. A cluster of tiny rose diamonds caught the light, and the pendant sparkled against his tanned hand. He lifted it a little higher, allowing the delicate chain to spill over his broad fingers.
“Now this is real beautiful,” he said slowly.
If he’d noticed Penny’s reluctance, he was wilfully ignoring it. He tilted his head and waited patiently for her to speak.
“It’s Art Nouveau,” she said at last. “Turn of the century.”
The stones of the pendant gleamed softly against Kurt’s hand.
“May I take a closer look?”
She gave a reluctant nod, all spontaneity completely flown. She observed Kurt’s careful handling of the pendant with tight constraint. He lifted the chain from its brass hook and let it slip lightly through his fingers until the gemstones came to rest in his open palm. A single strand of silver curled neatly into the shape of a heart, from the base of which trembled several tiny rose diamonds. At the apex of the heart, two further silver strands twined around each other and then parted, one strand curving into a delicate petal, the other dropping downward to hold two pale pink, lustrous pearls right in the heart’s centre. The pearls shimmered in Kurt’s hand, bringing with them all the secrets of the ocean from which they’d been plucked more than a hundred years before. It was magical.
Penny studied Kurt’s expression and bit her lip. Of all the pieces in the shop, of course this had to be the one he admired the most.
“It’s a love token,” she told him. Then she shook herself. “Well, that’s obvious. I mean, it’s a heart...”
She let the sentence trail away. Kurt didn’t need any of her pathetic words to describe the wonderful gems shining in his hand. In any case, after his dismissive remarks about using romance to sell to customers, she wasn’t sure she wanted to continue. The gems positively glowed with romance. It was her favourite item in the whole shop, and she couldn’t bear to hear his cynicism.
He moved a slow, careful finger over the pearls in the centre of his palm, and she was suddenly afraid that the pendant she loved so fervently was literally in the wrong hands. There was something in the way Kurt was studying it—something a little too remote, too controlled. All the warmth and charm in those grey eyes didn’t mask the reserve in the way he carried himself and the distance he kept from people.
Penny knew she was being ridiculously romantic again, but she didn’t care. Kurt didn’t seem remotely like a guy who’d ever known what it was to love. It would be a tragedy to see her delicate love token around the neck of a casual fling, a girl the cowboy was dating just to while away his time in London. The pearls and the silver heart enclosing them were things of rare beauty, with a life all of their own. There was no way she was going to let them go to a man as unemotional as this one appeared to be. They deserved more.
But she didn’t want to judge Kurt before giving him a chance. There was nothing for it but to ask him a personal question and hope he didn’t think she was crazy. She cleared her throat.
“The person you’re buying for,” she said. “Is she a close friend?”
Kurt looked up from the pendant, meeting her gaze with quick understanding. He gave a brief laugh. “Do you mean am I buying for a girlfriend?” He shook his head. “No.”
He seemed to find the thought amusing. Penny released her breath in relief as he replaced the pendant on its tiny brass hook.
“I’m looking for a present for my sister,” he continued.
“Oh.” So it wasn’t a girlfriend. Penny gave him a brilliant smile out of all proportion to his answer and then quickly tried to wipe it off her face in case he thought she was some sort of idiot. Her beloved pendant was back in its cabinet, safe from the hands of this reserved customer, and at that moment, that was all she cared about.
“In that case, perhaps a love token wouldn’t be quite appropriate.”
Kurt laughed again. “I don’t think so,” he said. “My sister would tell me I’ve finally lost my mind.”
“Oh,” Penny said again. She tried to imagine the taciturn man joking with his sister. Maybe he wasn’t as guarded with the people close to him as he appeared. For the past half hour in her company, he’d barely spoken. He’d just kept his watchful eyes on her whilst she did all the talking.
“You seem very attached to that heart,” he said now. “I’d say you didn’t even want to sell it.”
“Oh, I’d love to sell it.” Penny stopped before her stupid tongue ran away with her again. The intense emotional attachment she sometimes formed for the shop’s items had been one of the things about her that often annoyed David. Part of what he meant when he’d dubbed her ridiculously romantic, she supposed. She considered making up some reason for not selling it to Kurt—maybe tell him something about it being half-promised to another customer—and then suddenly it seemed important to her that this quiet stranger understood.
“It’s not that I don’t want to sell it,” she said, trying to choose her words. “It’s just that it has to go to the right person.” She wrinkled her forehead whilst Kurt waited. He seemed to know how important this was to her. In the end she lifted the end of the pendant with one swift finger. The stones danced and shimmered back to life.
“Just look at it,” she said. Didn’t he see? “I could fall in love with the beauty of it. Think of the hours of work and the craftsmanship and the century of history behind it. The person who leaves the shop with this pendant will buy it because he has to have it. And he won’t be buying it on a whim. He’ll be buying it for the woman he loves with a passion.” She stepped back, cheeks heating, aware she’d finished her declaration on what was an eccentrically dramatic note. She lifted her chin, expecting mockery, and was surprised to discover a kind of warm appreciation in Kurt’s gaze.
“Passionately in love,” he repeated. His downturned smile, rather than mocking Penny, appeared to be directed at himself. “I guess that’s why you didn’t want to show it to me, huh?”
Penny’s face heated even more as she looked up at him, but he merely shrugged good-naturedly. “You got me weighed up all right. Those pearls should go to a better man.”
Penny kicked herself. Once again she had let her imagination run away with her, and it would have served her right if Kurt took offence. It was fortunate for her he appeared to take her words with good humour. He moved away and held up one of the sets of earrings she’d shown him previously.
“These are perfect,” he said. “My sister will love them.”
Penny agreed. The earrings he’d picked out—droplets of sapphire and sparkling Austrian crystal—were the perfect choice for a sister. A few minutes later Penny took Tehmeena’s place behind the till and wrapped the earrings into a neat parcel, so Kurt could send them to the States.
When the transaction was concluded, she found herself reluctant to say goodbye to her cowboy. She guessed he was in London on a sight-seeing trip. It was one of those curious twists of fate that brought him into her shop, where his world and hers had so briefly touched. He would soon be leaving the congested city and returning to the freedom of his ranch, she supposed. It was with real regret she reached out her hand in farewell over the counter.
“Well, goodbye,” she said. “It’s been nice to meet you. I hope you enjoy the rest of your stay in London.”
Kurt took her hand in his and held it for a moment, smiling down at her.
“My stay here is going to be a long one,” he said. “And as a matter of fact, I think you can help me. I need to furnish a new house, and your sign outside says yo
u do interior design.” He pointed to a poster Tehmeena had displayed in the shop window.
“Well, it’s not interior design exactly,” she said in surprise. “It’s more sourcing objects for interiors. Antique furnishings, artwork, and such like.”
“Perfect,” he said. “That’s just the sort of help I need.”
“So you’re staying in London for a while?” Penny hoped the smile on her face hadn’t turned into an idiotic grin.
He nodded, and her smile widened even further.
“That’s great,” she said. “Although actually, it’s Tehmeena who looks after that side of the business.” She gestured to where Tehmeena stood deep in conversation with one of their regular customers. “She’s tied up at the minute, but I’ll get you her card.”
She was reaching into a drawer under the counter when the slow voice spoke again.
“It’s not your assistant I want,” he said. “It’s you.”
Penny lifted her head. He was regarding her with an unnerving directness, as though he’d just said the most natural thing in the world. She scanned his face, trying without success to read what she saw there.
“Tehmeena has a good eye,” she said carefully. “And a lot of experience. I’m sure she’ll be able to help you.”
Kurt glanced over to the bookshelf where Tehmeena was still engaged in lively conversation.
“She seems very efficient,” he agreed. “But I doubt she has what you have.”
“Really?” Penny said. “And what’s that?” There was a note of caution in her voice. To her mind, rare qualities didn’t necessarily mean good. David had made that quite clear when he left, and she wasn’t sure she wanted to hear more.
“You’ve got passion,” Kurt said simply.
His unexpected reply robbed Penny of speech. She checked his features for any hint of irony, but his gaze was direct, and the set of his chin suggested nothing other than plain speaking. Penny, recently dumped business partner and disappointing daughter of glamorous parents, had passion. No-one had ever said anything like that to her in her life. She was literally dumbstruck.The cowboy, mistaking her silence, proceeded to elaborate.
“You have a love for your antiques and a way of describing them that makes them come alive, like the people who owned them just walked out the door. You’ve got a rare gift of feeling. Hell, you love your antiques more than making a sale.” His eyes twinkled, and Penny remembered her reluctance to sell him the love token. She opened her mouth to begin an apology, but Kurt held up one hand with a shake of his head. “You’re unique, believe me, and that’s why I’d love to get your help.”
It was the longest speech Kurt had made. Penny drew in a deep, astonished breath.
“Well, in that case, the least I can do is listen.” She gestured to the corner, where her desk overflowed with paperwork. “Would you like to take a seat?”
Chapter Two
It was a while before Penny managed to shuffle her papers into enough order to create space on her desk. Her tiny corner of the shop could hardly be called an office, but it just happened to be the only available place to do the paperwork. After the way she’d spoken to the man and now the unprofessional state of her desk, she couldn’t for the life of her imagine why he was so insistent on dealing with her.
When she finally settled down and lifted her gaze, she was bursting with curiosity. He was regarding her attempts to tidy with unruffled patience, the picture of a man who was never hurried. It was a little unnerving.
Penny pressed her fingertips together and tried to sound cooler than she felt. “So, have you just bought a flat?”
“Well, it’s not exactly what you would call a flat.” Kurt lifted the leather flap on the satchel he was carrying and drew out some papers. “This is it.” He pushed a folder across the desk toward her.
Penny noted the name of one of London’s premier estate agents embossed on the cover. When she turned the page, her jaw dropped, and she had to suppress a low whistle. Property prices in London were astronomical. Even a one bedroom flat, or apartment as Kurt would call it, was expensive to buy, but the property he was showing her was no bedsit. The exterior photo showed what must be at least a five bedroom detached house and besides that, it appeared to look straight out onto Richmond Park, one of the most expensive areas in London. By London standards, it was a magnificent mansion.
The romantic picture she had formed of Kurt shifted. Did wandering cowboys really sell up and have enough money to buy detached houses in Richmond on Thames? Otherwise, where on earth did he get the money? Had he robbed a bank? He certainly looked capable of it.
“I know what you’re thinking,” he said.
“You do?” Penny looked up, unnerved. She’d actually been thinking Kurt looked just the type of character who would rob banks with great charm. A sort of modern-day Butch Cassidy.
Luckily for her Kurt’s mind seemed to run on rather more prosaic lines than her own. “You’re thinking this house is too large for one guy. But the fact is, I’m getting married.”
“O-o-h.” Now all became clear. Of course a man this cool had to have a girlfriend somewhere. And surely Penny wasn’t stupid enough to feel disappointed? Her quick imagination threw up a picture of Kurt’s likely fiancée. Tall, willowy, brilliant green eyes and flame red hair. The sort of resourceful girl who knew how to throw a lasso and build up a campfire. Definitely not a short, plump and overworked shop-worker.
“Now I understand,” she said on a long breath. “But surely your fiancée would want to choose the furnishings herself?”
“Well, it’s kinda complicated. I don’t have a fiancée yet, as such.”
“Oh?” Penny said. Her mind ticked over again and leapt to what for her was the most romantic conclusion. “I see. You mean you haven’t asked her to marry you yet?”
“No, not exactly. I mean I haven’t decided on a girlfriend just yet.” Kurt was absolutely deadpan. He carried on steadily. “I’ve got one or two women in mind, but I’m not in any hurry.”
Penny stared at him, wide-eyed.
“So let me get this straight,” she said. “You want me to help you furnish a house, so you can bring a wife back to it? And you haven’t decided which of your dates you’re marrying?”
“Yes.” He paused. “Is it a problem?”
“No, no.” Penny dropped her gaze and fiddled with the pen on her desk. “It’s just…well, isn’t it…I mean, everything about it.” she finally blurted out. Kurt watched in surprise as the pen clattered across the desk.
“I suppose this isn’t my business—,” she continued. Kurt opened his mouth to speak, but Penny carried on, swept away by her own momentum. “I mean you wanted me to help you with the passion thing and everything, so perhaps I should give you a hint. Women prefer it if you’re actually in love with them before you propose. And they’re certainly not happy about being one of a number of options.”
Kurt’s lips twitched. “I understand,” he said. There was humour in his tone, but at the same time, Penny could sense he was deadly serious. “And don’t get me wrong, I take getting married very seriously. But I’m looking for a marriage based on mutual respect and shared interests. When I decide to get married, I want it to be a rational decision. Passion is a fickle thing.”
Penny stared at him. It was on the tip of her tongue to say that, surely, romantic love and mutual respect weren’t incompatible. She’d known long-lasting marriages based on passion—her own grandparents’ for example—but something in the cowboy’s manner made her feel as though she’d come up against a solid wall. The topic was obviously closed.
She deliberated silently for a couple of minutes, looking into his cool grey eyes. Eventually she shut his folder and pushed it back across the desk.
“This is a much bigger project than I’d expected,” she said. “I’m sorry, but I really don’t think I’ll be able to find the time…”
If Kurt was disappointed, he gave no sign of it. He merely tilted his head, his amiable
gaze on hers. He seemed in no hurry to retrieve the folder—seemed to have all the time in the world, in fact. Penny had the sudden notion that despite his outwardly easy-going appearance he was the sort of man who would wait as long as it took to have things the way he wanted them.
For a couple of seconds, neither of them spoke. The folder lay in a kind of no-man’s-land on the desk between them. It was like a sort of stand-off. Penny found herself subconsciously dropping her hands to her sides. The silence spread uncomfortably until, to her great annoyance, she began to feel embarrassed. She pushed the folder a little further in his direction, the first to crack.
“We’re absolutely swamped with work at the moment,” she said. Kurt glanced at the folder and raised his eyes to hers without comment. She knew her excuse must sound lame. When he still didn’t speak, she felt compelled to offer an explanation. “My business partner David looked after our accounts, but he left a couple of weeks ago. I’m trying to get a grip on the finances as well as run the shop.”
She didn’t elaborate. She’d already told him enough. There was no need to mention David’s sudden and dramatic outburst when she’d mildly queried a missing invoice. No need, either, to mention that he’d accused her of being too full of romantic ideals to run a successful business. David would probably think she was being ridiculously idealistic now, turning down business with an obviously affluent customer just because he didn’t share her attitude towards romantic love. However, David wasn’t here anymore, and in any case, it was her decision.
Penny raised her chin as Kurt ran his assessing gaze over the untidy desk and then lifted his head to scan the rest of the shop. Her protest that they were overworked was evidently true. Poor Tehmeena was still dealing single-handedly with a long queue of customers.
Kurt brought his gaze back to meet hers.
“I understand how busy you are,” he admitted. “But I’m in no hurry. You can do the house at a time to suit you and take your time over whatever needs to be done.”
The Antique Love Page 2