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“I’m a whiz at cufflinks. I used to help my dad all the time,” she offered with a perfect arched brow. In surprise at his appearance?

She took the cufflinks and bent her head to concentrate on getting them attached. Still unable to speak, Reilly let his gaze drift over her hair, piled high on her head, just like the first time he’d seen her. The style left her neck bare except for the stunning necklace.

The necklace.

Reilly pushed back a flashpoint of anger. He should’ve known about that damn thing from the beginning. The idea of her wearing it tonight didn’t sit well with him. It didn’t do any good to relay that thought to Cassandra, though. He knew he had as much a chance of getting her to leave it in the shop’s safe as he had of kissing her.

Whoa, where’d that come from?

Forcing his eyes away from her cleavage and the thought he’d managed to avoid for a week, he concentrated instead on her hands. Her fingers shook slightly as she threaded the silver metal clip of the cufflink. “What’s the matter?” he asked, seizing her hands in his.

Her head snapped up. “Nothing, why?”

Pressing her fingers, he became aware of how cold they were. “You’re shaking, and your hands are cold.”

She pulled from his touch, and he let her go. “My hands are always cold. Thin blood, I guess.”

“What’s wrong, Cassandra? You look scared.”

“Scared?”

Now he heard it in her voice. What was going on? “Okay, nervous.”

She backed away, one hand instantly going to her throat. Her fingers danced near the ornately carved necklace before she turned away from him.

“Is it the necklace?”

He knew it wasn’t, but he wanted to see how she’d react. Hell, she’d defended her right to do what she pleased with the antique jewelry with such fire this afternoon, he’d found himself turned on. A condition fast becoming SOP—standard operating procedure—around this woman.

Cassandra turned back, the shaky smile on her face forced and unnatural. “Yes, the necklace. I’ve never worn something this valuable before.”

She was lying. He didn’t know why, but he was willing to let it go for now. “I find that hard to believe. You Van Winter women must be swimming in jewels. Maybe because you aren’t planning on keeping this one.”

“Yes, maybe that’s it.”

“I’m guessing your mother isn’t interested in it, either?”

Cassandra cleared her throat. “No. We discussed it when you dropped me off to pick up my dress. She’s fine with me entering it in the auction. That’s why I decided to wear it tonight. Many of the people at Elizabeth’s party will also be attending the auction. Do you think that’s too tawdry?”

“Tawdry?”

The concern in her eyes had him wondering if she really was worried about being respectable. Showing up with him was going to set tongues wagging, no matter how good a job he’d done today at charming the grande dame who had turned out to be Willard’s mother.

Too bad. He had a job to do and there was no way he was sitting home while she went out hobnobbing tonight.

He crossed the room, covering the distance separating them until she backed into one of the sofas, unable to move away. “As in poor taste?”

Cassandra’s eyes widened in surprise. He hadn’t heard what she and Lily had been talking about this afternoon while he placed a call to keep Digger up to date, but he had a feeling he’d been the topic of conversation.

“On the way home you told me you’d just come back inside the shop——”

“And I had,” Reilly interrupted, his anger vanishing in the swirl of that damned sultry scent of hers. He drew in a deep breath and forced his attention on something he still knew nothing about, the necklace. “So, what are these rocks?”

A small smile played across Cassandra’s shiny lips and his hard-on was back.

Damn. It didn’t take much. Not with this woman.

And that bothered him. Not because he couldn’t afford to be distracted, that was a given, but because he couldn’t afford her. Period.

“The stones are called Alexandrites.”

“That doesn’t mean anything to me, Cassandra.”

Now he was lying. He hid his surprise at the name of the precious stones. He had heard of them, but didn’t know any details. He trailed a finger along her collarbone and tried to will away his body’s response to her. He heard a catch in her breathing before it came out in a release of warmth against his skin.

So much for willpower.

“Alexandrites were first discovered in 1830 in Russia on the day the future Czar Alexander turned eleven. The stone was named after him.”

“Interesting.”

Would her voice hitch in that same breathless way when she made love? Reilly forced himself to concentrate on the necklace and not the wild random thought lodged in his brain. His finger traced the outline of the dangling stones against her skin. “Tell me more.”

“More?”

“Sure, like what metal is this? It looks so…”

“Delicate?” Cassandra offered as Reilly’s voice trailed off into silence. “It’s very deceiving, I know. It’s platinum. Jewelry designers used a technique where the sharp edge of the metal is facing upward giving the appearance of a fine mesh or handmade lace.”

Dipping his head, Reilly leaned closer. He turned his hand, his knuckles brushing against the smoothness of her bare skin. Heat radiated from her. He shoved his other hand deep in his pants pocket in an attempt not to reach for her. “Is this the stone’s natural color?”

“Actually, the stones change from a greenish blue color in natural daylight to the shades of red and purple you see now, under incandescent light, such as candlelight.”

He couldn’t stop himself. He thought he could, but his gaze moved upward from her neck of its own accord. He paused for a moment on the shininess of her lips, then captured her eyes with his own. “Your friend Sebastian told me the same thing this afternoon. I paid him a visit while you were with your mother. He’s an interesting old man—”

“You didn’t scare him, did you?”

There was that fire again, flashing in her eyes, causing the green to deepen to a dark jade. He couldn’t decide which shade he liked best. “Calm down, princess. I only talked to him.”

“And I just confirmed your conversation. Now, would you please stop calling me princess?”

“Why? You certainly could give Cinderella a run for her money in this dress. All you need now is a Prince Charming to complete the picture.”

“Is that an offer?”

“Me? I’m about as far from a prince as you can get,” Reilly shot back. “But you already know that, don’t you?”

“About this afternoon. I didn’t mean for it to come out like it did.” Cassandra’s tongue stole across her lips. “I know these parties. I grew up attending them and I don’t even want to go to this circus. I can’t see why you’d want—”

“This is what I want.”

Reilly’s words disappeared when he covered her mouth with his.