“I have no idea. They’ll have to authenticate it first, then trace the provenance. If Lagy can prove he purchased it or any of these paintings in good faith from a gallery or another collector, the process could take weeks or months.”
“Or longer,” she said, scrunching her nose. “Can’t you exert some royal influence and hurry the process along?”
“Impatient little thing, aren’t you?”
“And then some!” She scooted off his lap and onto the cushion next to him. “Let’s contact Sarah via FaceTime. I want to see her reaction when we tell her.”
* * *
They caught Sarah in midair aboard Dev’s private jet. The moment Dom made the connection, her employer fired an anxious query.
“How’s Natalie? Has her memory returned?”
“It has.”
“Thank God! Where is she now?”
“She’s here, with me. Hang on.”
He angled the phone to capture Natalie’s eager face. “Hello, Sarah.”
“Oh, Natalie, we’ve been so worried. Are you really okay?”
“Better than okay. We’ve located the Canaletto!”
“What?” Sarah whipped her head to one side. “Dev, you’re not going to believe this! Natalie’s tracked down Grandmama’s Canaletto.”
“I didn’t do it alone,” Natalie protested, aiming a quick smile at Dom. “It was a team effort.”
When she glanced back at the screen, Sarah’s brows had inched up. “Well,” she said after a small pause, “if I was going to team with anyone other than my husband, Dominic would certainly top my list.”
A telltale heat rushed into Natalie’s cheeks but she didn’t respond to the curiosity simmering just below the surface of her employer’s reply. Mostly because she wasn’t really sure how to define her “teaming” with Dom, much less predict how long it would last. But she couldn’t hold back a cheek-to-cheek grin as she related the events of the past few days. Sarah’s eyes grew wider with the telling, and at the end of the recital she echoed Natalie’s earlier sentiments.
“This is all so incredible. I can’t wait to tell Grandmama the Canaletto’s been recovered.”
Dom leaned over Natalie’s shoulder to issue the same warning he had earlier. “They’ll have to assemble a team of experts to authenticate each painting and validate its provenance. That could take several months or more.”
Dev’s face crowded next to his wife’s on the small screen. “We’ll see what we can do to expedite the process, at least as far as the Canaletto is concerned.”
“And I’ll ask Gina to get Jack involved,” Sarah volunteered. “He can apply some subtle pressure through diplomatic channels.”
“I also suggested to the Grand Duke here that he should exercise a little royal muscle,” Natalie put in.
“Good for you. With all three of our guys weighing in, I’m sure we can shake Grandmama’s painting loose without too long a delay.”
The reference to “our” guys deepened the heat in Natalie’s cheeks. She floundered for a moment, but before she could think of an appropriate response to the possessive pronoun, Sarah had already jumped ahead.
“We need to update the chapter on the Canaletto, Nat. And if we put our noses to the grindstone, we ought to be able to finish the final draft of the book in two or three weeks. When can you fly back to L.A.?”
“I, uh…”
“Scratch that. Instead of going straight home, let’s rendezvous in New York. I’d like you to personally brief my editor. I know she’ll want to take advantage of the publicity all this is going to generate. We can fly to L.A. from there.”
She could hardly say no. Sarah St. Sebastian Hunter had offered her the job of a lifetime. Not only did Natalie love the work, she appreciated the generous salary and fringe benefits that came with it. She owed her boss loyalty and total dedication until her book hit the shelves.
“No problem. I can meet you in New York whenever it works for you.”
“I’ll call my editor as soon as we hang up. I’ll try to arrange something on Thursday or Friday. Did you get a replacement passport? Great. You should probably fly home tomorrow, then. I’ll have a ticket waiting for you at the airport.”
She disconnected with a promise to call back as soon as she’d nailed down the time and place of the meeting. Dominic tossed his phone on the coffee table and turned to Natalie.
She couldn’t quite meet his eyes. She felt as though she’d just dropped down an elevator shaft. Mere moments ago she’d been riding a dizzying high. In a few short seconds, she’d plunged back into cold, hard reality. She had a job, responsibilities, a life back in the States, such as it was. And neither she nor Dom had discussed any alternative. Still, the prospect of leaving Hungary drilled a hole in her heart.