She was talking about her dog? Vladimir exhaled. He’d been bracing for her anger, since the only thing she really wanted was the one thing he wouldn’t, couldn’t, give her. Relieved, he lifted his hand and lightly traced the bare skin of her collarbone. “I still don’t understand the connection.”
“I’ll put it in simple terms.” Pulling away from him, she folded her arms. “No fur.”
“As you wish,” he whispered, taking her hand in his own. He felt her shiver. He looked at her. Her expression was completely unreadable. He sighed. “Come.”
Leaving the dressing room, he went out to meet with the salesgirl and finish the details of the order, arranging for the hand-stitched ball gown to be delivered the next day. Vladimir took Bree outside, where his bodyguard awaited them beside his bulletproof limo.
“Where are we going?”
“You’ll see.”
“I’m tired of shopping.”
“You’ll like this.”
Twenty minutes later the limo pulled to a stop. Helping her out himself, Vladimir led her past two security guards into a tiny, high-ceilinged shop in the belle epoque style, with gilded walls and colors like a cloisonné Easter egg. Everything about the jewelry store bespoke elegance, taste and most of all money.
“What are we doing here?” Bree scowled. “I thought we had dinner reservations!”
He gave her a teasing smile. “This won’t take long.”
A short, plump man with wire-rimmed glasses and a short white beard, wearing an old-fashioned pin-striped suit with a vest, came eagerly from behind one of the glass cases. “Welcome, welcome, Your Highness,” he said in Russian.
“Speak in English so she’ll understand.”
“Of course, Prince Vladimir.” Tenting his hands, the jeweler turned to Bree and switched to accented English. “My lady. You are here for a necklace, yes? For the New Year’s Eve ball at the ancient palace of the Romanov tsarina?”
Bree glanced up at Vladimir. “Um. Yes?”
He smiled back at her, feeling a warm glow at the thought of spoiling her. “I wish to buy you a little something to wear with the ball gown.”
“I don’t need it.”
“Need has nothing to do with it.” He lifted a dark eyebrow. “Surely you won’t deny me the small pleasure?”
Her scowl deepened. “No. How could I?”
He ignored her insinuation. “Surely,” he said teasingly, “you will not tell me that diamonds remind you of a former pet? That they possibly have a soul?”
She looked down at the floor.
“No,” she whispered. “A diamond is just a cold, heartless stone.” Vladimir frowned. She suddenly seemed to recall she was speaking to the CEO of Xendzov Mining, one of the largest diamond producers in the world. Flashing him a wry smile, she amended, “But they are pretty. I’ll give you that.”
“So you’ll let me buy you something.”
“Don’t you have a closetful of diamonds back home? I’m surprised you don’t use them like rocks to decorate your garden.”
“My company produces raw diamonds. We sell them wholesale. The fine art of polishing them into exquisite jewelry is not our specialty.” He lifted his hands to indicate the little jewel box of a shop. “This is the best jewelry store in the world.”
“Really? In the world?”
He gave her a sly smile. “Well, the best in St. Petersburg. Which means it is the best in Russia. Which means, naturally, that it is the best in the world.”
Staring at him for a moment, she shook her head with a sigh. “All right.” Her tone was resigned. “Since it seems I have no choice.”
Vladimir had truly expected this to be a quick stop en route to dinner at the best restaurant in the city. He’d assumed Bree would quickly select one of the most expensive necklaces in the store: the looped rope of diamonds, the diadem of sapphires, the emerald choker that cost the equivalent of nine hundred thousand dollars. But an hour later, she still hadn’t found a necklace she wanted.
“Six million rubles?” she said now, staring down incredulously at the ropes of diamonds patiently displayed by the portly jeweler. “How much is that in dollars?”
He told her, and her jaw dropped. Then she burst into laughter. “What a waste!” She glanced at Vladimir. “I won’t let you spend your money that way. Might as well set it on fire.”
He didn’t have nearly the same patience as the jeweler. “Money isn’t a problem,” he said tightly. “I have more than I could spend in a lifetime.”
“Lucky you.”