The Royal House of Niroli: Billion Dollar Bargains. Carol Marinelli

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      Her throat felt tight as she swallowed hard, forced herself to relive that brief encounter. She could feel his eyes burning her skin all over again, the shock of sexual awareness fizzing through her body no matter how she’d tried to douse it. Since she’d first glimpsed him, since first he’d stepped closer into her personal space, Meg had felt unsettled, as if he’d taken some imaginary spoon and skillfully stirred her somewhere deep inside.

      He was beautiful—even that blatantly obvious acknowledgement was a monumental feat for Meg, a step forward even. Too many times in the past she’d buried her feelings, refused to examine them, but standing there staring at her reflection, her knuckles white as she gripped the sink, Meg forced herself to stay with her feelings for a moment—to explore them. Those dark, liquid silk eyes had caressed her, the deep drawl of his voice had moved her, and Meg acknowledged how much she had wanted to take him up on his offer, and find out what exactly he had in store for her … to see him again!

       ‘No!’

      She said the word out loud, pulled the window shut on the thoughts that were flittering in. He wanted her for how she looked—could look; he’d made that blatantly clear. Men like Luca were used to getting what they wanted, most women couldn’t resist their charms.

      Only she wasn’t like most women.

      ‘You look fantastic!’ Jasmine thrust a glass of cheap wine into her hand as Meg stepped out from the bathroom. ‘I adore your top. Where did you get it?’

      ‘At a craft market in Queensland.’ Meg attempted girltalk, tried and wished to be as happy and carefree as Jasmine as they discussed her top; mind you, it was divine. The deepest azure, it scooped into a halter neck and from the front it looked elegant and simple, but it was rather more daring from behind, its low cut making the wearing of a bra impossible and instead revealing the vast expanse of her golden sun-kissed back and almost the entire column of her vertebra. The crushed silk fabric was caught at the bottom and ruched together in a glittering butterfly encrusted with glass beads and semiprecious stones. The moment Meg had set eyes on it she’d wanted it—one of the few impulse buys in her life.

      ‘Well, you look stunning,’ Jasmine affirmed with a slight hiccough as she forced down her wine. ‘Why on earth do you hide yourself away all the time?’

      ‘I don’t,’ Meg clipped, refusing to accept the compliment and certainly not answering the question. Instead, she took a sip of the drink and screwed up her face, wondering how Jasmine managed to drink it as if it were flavoured water. Her heart rate seemed to be topping a hundred and Meg knew that if they didn’t leave now, then she’d surely change her mind. ‘Come on, Jasmine—let’s hit the town!’

      The casino was everything Meg had expected it would be and more. The white marble of the floors and walls in the vast foyer, where Jasmine and Meg stood getting their bearings, was no doubt a cool respite from the activity in the gaming rooms.

      Despite the lateness of hour, it hummed with activity, elevators pinging regularly as winners and losers spilled out, heading to the bars and restaurants eager to spend their winnings or drown their sorrows, the sound of machines an ever-present backdrop. Jasmine and Meg wandered a while, peering into the designer shops, noses pressed against the windows like children at a toy shop.

      ‘He’s going to buy it for her!’ Jasmine breathed, watching as a rather ancient gentlemen leant heavily on his walking frame with one hand as his other retrieved a wallet, peeling off one of many credit cards and handing it to a pouting redhead who was young enough to be his grand-daughter. ‘He’s actually going to buy that diamond ring for her! Lucky, lucky thing!’

      ‘Lucky?’ Meg screwed up her nose in distaste, not sure who to feel sorry for—the woman who would later pay an extremely high price for her gift or the man who was being fleeced.

      ‘Let’s go in.’ Jasmine nudged Meg, pressing the intercom and waving at the assistant who gave a snooty frown as she looked over.

      ‘I somehow don’t think we’re the kind of clientele they’re looking for,’ Meg said, turning to go, but just as she did, surprisingly the assistant came over, gesturing to a security guard who opened the heavy glass door. Like a puppy chasing a ball, Jasmine leapt inside as Meg rather more hesitantly entered.

      ‘IS there anything in particular you are looking for?’ The assistant spoke fluent English and directed all of her questions at Meg. Embarrassed, Meg shook her head.

      ‘We’re just browsing—if that’s okay?’

      ‘Of course!’

      But browsing in an exclusive jewellery shop in the Niroli casino was nothing like the high-street stores Meg usually frequented. In fact, it was like nowhere Meg had ever been in her life. Once inside, the rather snooty demeanour of the receptionist faded—slivers of bitter chocolate were offered and refused, but a glass of champagne thrust into her hand while looking was apparently non-negotiable—but Meg couldn’t relax and enjoy. Excruciatingly aware of the security cameras whirring and homing in, and more than aware she couldn’t afford as much as a keyring, all Meg wanted was out.

      But Jasmine had other ideas. ‘Oh, would you look at these? Have you ever seen anything as beautiful?’

       Never.

      Peering into the glass display cabinet, even Meg, who was itching to escape, was momentarily transfixed; on simple black velvet hung a pendant and earrings and, even to a novice like Meg, their worth was clearly more than the entire shop put together.

      ‘They are very beautiful, yes?’

      ‘Stunning!’ Meg watched as her breath fogged up the glass, eyes widening as the assistant pulled out a key from her belt and opened the display cabinet.

      ‘Clearly you appreciate the finer things—these are pieces from some of the Niroli royal family’s collection. You can hold them for a moment—but that is all.’

      ‘We can actually hold them?’ Meg blinked.

      ‘The king tries to make things more …’ The assistant snapped her fingers as she attempted to locate the word she was looking for, and then settled for a longer version. ‘He tries to let his people closer to the family—these are not the best pieces, of course.’

      And this wasn’t your average jeweller’s, Meg thought. They were locked in, cameras were everywhere, but even so holding such treasures even for a short while was a rare treat.

      ‘How much are they worth?’ Jasmine asked as the assistant placed the jewels in Meg’s hands, the cool of the perfect stones heavy in her heated palms, and Meg knew the answer before the assistant even spoke.

      ‘They are not for sale. We are honoured to have them for a short while.’

      ‘They must be insured for a figure,’ Jasmine rudely pushed as Meg handed the treasures back.

      ‘Their street value is not relevant,’ the assistant answered tartly. ‘These jewels stay within the royal family.’

      ‘Snooty madam!’ Jasmine declared once they were outside. ‘I wonder what they are worth …’

      ‘What does it matter?’ Meg asked. ‘I can’t believe we actually got to hold them—I wish I’d brought my camera.’

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