Paige was beginning to find this conversation entirely too bizarre, as if Carranza really did have an interest in the boutique, which was ridiculous. These pragmatic questions weren’t what she’d anticipated, and her honest answer to his question-that she was severing all ties to Miami and opting for solitude and simplicity-weren’t t appropriate in this situation.

Think pretentious and pampered, Paige. That’s what they expect from you. “Oh, no, it’s nothing like that,” she said, punctuating her remark with light, frivolous laughter. “The boutique is a responsibility I no longer want. I’m recently widowed, and I’ve been thinking of doing some traveling.” Straight to Connecticut.

“Alone?” His smile was affable, his tone conversational, but there was something in the depths of his gaze that made her feel anxious-as if he was subtly prying for intimate answers that had nothing to do with the sale of the boutique and more to do with the ostentatious woman she was supposed to be.

Out of the corner of her eye she noticed Bridget watching her, waiting for her response, her fingers stroking the dazzling ruby-and-diamond necklace Paige highly suspected had been smuggled through Carranza’s organization.

Paige’s face warmed, and she hoped they’d both mistake the flush for embarrassment and not the uneasiness it was. “Well, no, not exactly,” she lied.

Bracing his arms on the side of the chair, the suave man steepled his fingers in front of him and regarded her over the tips. “A male companion, then?” he asked curiously.

His audacity astounded her. She knew she was supposed to be accommodating, but she was beginning to feel interrogated, and annoyed. “Mr. Carranza,” she said firmly, attempting to steer their conversation back to business. “I don’t know what my traveling plans have to do with your interest in the boutique…”

He held up a hand and appeared apologetic. “I’m sorry. I’m afraid I tend to let my curiosity get the best of me at times. You’re a lovely woman, and I just naturally assumed you’d have an escort.”

Belatedly, Paige realized the reason for his casual probing. They’d heard about Josh being her lover and wanted to confirm the report they’d been given.

He shrugged, as if dismissing the entire verbal exchange. “Back to business, then. What are you asking for the boutique?”

She quoted him the price she’d estimated the Wild Rose was worth, and spent the next fifteen minutes discussing her terms for the sale, treating him as she would any other potential buyer. He digested the information she fed him, and asked all the appropriate questions of a prospective investor. During that time Bridget continued her slow perusal of the office, and Liz passed the door with an armload of clothes and glanced surreptitiously inside, offering Paige a measure of comfort and security, though she felt no direct threat from Carranza.

When there was nothing left to discuss but an offer, Carranza stood and rebuttoned his suit jacket. “Before making any final decisions, I’d like to discuss the purchase with my investment broker.”

This couldn’t be the end of his visit, she thought, finding his strategy disconcerting and unnerving. Following his lead, she retrieved a business card from her desk and handed it to him. “Feel free to give me a call if you or your broker have any other questions.”

“Oh, I’m certain you’ll be hearing back from me shortly.” His smile held a deeper connotation than his simple words.

“Darling, would you take a look at this picture!” Bridget exclaimed, capturing their attention.

Paige and Victor turned at the same moment to find the other woman in front of the portrait hanging on the wall, her eyes alight with excitement and intense purpose.

Finally, Paige thought, relief and nervousness colliding.

Victor casually strolled to where Bridget stood. Hands thrust into the front pockets of his slacks, he considered the sensual portrait of Paige wrapped in white fur, her cleavage a perfect setting for the Ivanov necklace. “Umm, the picture is quite exquisite,” he said, with a slow, appreciative grin that made Paige’s skin crawl.

Bridget’s eyes narrowed in the pretense of being a slighted lover. “I want this necklace to complete my collection,” she said haughtily.

He stroked his chin with his fingers, as if contemplating her demand. “Pussycat,” he began in a tone meant to placate, “you can’t have everything you want.”

Her expression turned sullen. “I have everything but emeralds, and you told me when I found something I liked you would buy it for me, regardless of the cost. This is the necklace I want.”

Carranza glanced at Paige, looking appropriately exasperated by his fiancée’s behavior-but not enough to deny her. “Do you mind if I ask where you bought the necklace?”

Paige’s heart pounded so hard, she feared he’d be able to see it thumping beneath her prim suit. Gradually moving closer to where they both stood, she forced herself to concentrate on the various responses she and Josh had rehearsed. Drop subtle clues, he’d told her.

“Oh, I didn’t buy it,” she said, amazed to find her voice so steady when her insides were quaking. “After my husband died a few months ago I found the necklace stashed in a safe I have at home. Most likely it was a gift he never had the chance to give me.”

“How much do you want for it?” Bridget asked imperiously.

Paige met her ruthless stare, wondering what Anhony had seen in the other woman that he’d risked his life for. Excitement? Danger? “I’m sorry, it’s not for sale.”

The other woman’s gaze turned frosty, chilling Paige to the bone. “Everything has a price, and Victor will gladly pay yours.”

“Now, Pussycat,” Carranza began, patting her arm onsolingly. “If it’s not for sale-”

“I want it,” she stated angrily, and in a swirl of red left the office.

Paige drew a steady breath, a little shaken by the lark, merciless glint she’d seen in Bridget’s gaze. She knew her tantrum had been a performance, but her rancor had seemed so real…

After a moment, Victor cast Paige a contrite look, as if to say his fiancée’s petulance was a common occurrence he’d grown used to. “I’m afraid when she sets her mind on something she doesn’t let up until she gets it. Maybe you could reconsider selling the necklace?”

Paige’s insides were clenching, churning. She struggled to keep up her end of the farce, hating every minute of it. “I have to confess that I suspect the necklace is fake, and not nearly as valuable as your fiancée might believe.”

“Really?” His brows rose in surprise. “You had it appraised?”

She shook her head. “No, but I know my husband wouldn’t have afforded a necklace like that if the jewels were authentic.”

“Hmmm.” He scrutinized the portrait once more. "Would you be opposed to having the necklace looked at by my appraiser? I’d be willing to offer market value plus thirty percent, fake or no.”

She’d bet odds that his appraiser would conclud that the jewels were synthetic, and not worth more that a couple of hundred dollars-an uncomplicated, easy transaction for a million-dollar necklace. No murder, no mayhem, no more encounters with the witch. She was tempted, but knew that simple route wasn’t an option

Play hard to get. Josh’s words echoed in her mind “That’s very generous of you, but I really don think-”

“Trust me, buying this necklace, at any cost, will save me a lot of grief where Bridget is concerned.” He smile persuasively. “Tell you what. I’m having a dinner part next Saturday at my estate in the Keys. Why don’t you join us? I have a guest cottage you’re welcome to use for the weekend.”

“Oh, I couldn’t possibly.” Dread twisted within he when she thought of staying at this man’s estate, along at his complete mercy. She grasped for an excuse to refuse his offer. “I’m seeing someone, and I don’t think he’d like me attending a party without him.”

“By all means, bring him along,” he suggested generously. “My appraiser will be there. Bring the necklace, I’ll have him look at it, and we can make a deal that will benefit both of us.” He winked at her, and without giving her time to refuse said, “I’ll be in touch to give you directions to my estate.”

She watched him leave her office, heard his voice mingling with Bridget’s, then the tinkle of the boutique’s door chime as they left the Wild Rose. Dimly she realized that he’d left no business card, no phone number, or any other way to contact him. She was like a spider caught in his web-relinquishing the Ivanov necklace would be her only means of escape.

She stood there, alone in the office, her body trembling in a series of tiny aftershocks that kicked up her adrenaline. Everything had gone as planned. They were going to be on Carranza’s turf, just as Lieutenant Reynolds wanted. Except she had no desire to display that necklace, or be a part of such a potentially deadly scheme-no matter how much protection Josh promised her.

She had no choice. That realization brought on a wave of anger so fierce, it heated her blood and made her tense enough to snap at Liz when she slipped into the office and asked if she was okay.

Hell, no, she wasn’t okay! She had absolutely no control over the situation, or her life at the moment, and she resented every bit of it-from Anthony’s deceit, to Carranza’s ruthlessness, to being forced into a dangerous situation that put her life at risk. Liz attempted to reason with her, but she was far from feeling rational. Not when her entire future looked shaky at best.

Within ten minutes of Carranza’s departure, Josh arrived at the boutique, no doubt having heard her snapping at Liz through the van’s surveillance system. The door Liz had shut to give them privacy swung open without a knock and Josh strode inside, his expression fierce and focused on Paige.