And grief for the loss of the dream he’d been building in his mind, and anger that he had been so stupid to ever imagine he could love her when he had known all along that she was a thief, all of it combined into one huge tidal wave of fury that rolled over him and turned his vision red.
‘I didn’t steal it!’
He thrust out his hand. ‘Give it to me.’
‘No! I told you, the bracelet is mine!’
She shook her head and pulled her wrist against her chest with her other hand. She was trembling now, her blue eyes wide and filled with fear, as well they might, because she should feel afraid right now.
‘It’s the bracelet you were staring at in the case at the Pavilion of the Moon. You saw it and you lusted after it and you stole it.’
‘No! It looks the same, I know. But it was Amber’s. My great-great-great-grandmother’s. I told you about her, remember? She disappeared for five years and when I saw the bracelet in the display I was struck with it—of course I was. Because I’d found her. I found where my ancestor had been.’
And he laughed, if you could call the grating sound he made a laugh. ‘Oh, yes, of course, I remember. You told me about her, after you’d seen the bracelet and decided to steal it, that is. It was a fabrication, so you’d have an excuse all ready in case you were caught.’
‘No! It’s the truth. It was her bracelet. I found it with her diary when I was helping clean out my grandmother’s attic.’
‘Show me this diary, then, if what you are telling me is true.’
‘I don’t have it. I didn’t bring it.’
‘And yet you brought the bracelet?’
‘The diary is too fragile! It never would have survived the trip.’
‘How convenient.’
‘It’s the truth! Have them check at the Pavilion of the Moon. Call someone. Get them to check. The bracelet is still there, I swear. The label says there were originally two, made for the Sultan’s favourite. Amber must have been that favourite. She took one home to England with her. She must have left one behind here for whatever reason.’
‘Of course, she did.’ He flicked his fingers. ‘I’m still waiting.’
‘Didn’t you read what it said? Didn’t you see the caption?’
He shook his head, as amazed by her sheer brazenness as he was by his own stupidity. He’d almost believed there might be a kernel of truth in what she’d said. Because he’d wanted to believe what she said was true. Fool! ‘How long did it take to come up with this pack of lies? Did you make it up on the spot or did you fabricate it all before you came, so you would be ready to wheel out your so sad and mysterious tale of your ancestor in case you got caught? Were the tears part of your plan, so that I would be so touched by your depth of emotion, I would have to be swayed to believe you?’
‘It’s the truth!’
‘You lie! For the last time, give me the bracelet!’
Her beautiful face crumpled. Beautiful thieving face, he thought, correcting himself as she twisted off the bracelet over her hand and finally passed it to him. The metal was warm where it had rested against her skin, and he wished it as cold as he felt towards her right now. ‘Please listen, Kadar, you’ve just got to believe me.’
‘Believe the words of a common thief? Anyone would have to be a fool to believe you.’ He snorted. ‘And I almost did. I almost thought I’d been wrong about you, sweet little Amber Jones. I almost thought you were something special, you know that? God, I’m a fool.’
She blinked up at him, her eyes filled with tears.
‘No! I can’t believe you were so stupid. I told you it was illegal to deal with Turkish antiquities. And still you couldn’t help yourself. Get your things together. My driver will take you to the airport. And the only reason I don’t have you delivered to the nearest polis station is because I’m sick to death of the sight and sound of you. Always feigning innocence when you’ve been nothing more than a common thief the whole time. The sooner you’re gone, the better.’
‘Take me to the polis, then. Take me there and I will explain—’
‘And who do you think they are going to believe? You, who has already come to their attention for trying to deal in antiquities, or me? You will be thrown in jail before you know it. Be grateful that I am letting you go.’
She sniffed. ‘Fine,’ she said, snatching up her bag and pulling out a notepad and a pen. ‘Be a bastard. That’s what you’re best at, after all.’ She scrawled her name and address on a piece of paper and thrust it at him. ‘When I am gone, and you discover the mistake you have made, this is where you can return my bracelet to me.’