Reclaiming His Pregnant Widow by Tessa Radley Page B

hugged his narrow hips or notice how the black T-shirt stretched across his powerfulshoulders, and the sight caused a forbidden flutter beneath Clea’s rib cage.
    Brand’s attention was focused on the two-foot-tall alabaster vase housed in a glass display cabinet equipped with state-of-the-art security sensors. Clea knew his features would reflect the same buzz of excitement that had gripped her the first time she’d seen the artifact. And still did even now, after six months of admiring the scenes carved in its two panels.
    Yet he stood unmoving, not thrumming with excitement as she would have expected.
    Clea hesitated.
    Did Brand not know what he was looking at?
    She dismissed the moment’s doubt. Of course he did. This was Brand Noble, one of the world’s up-and-coming experts on ancient artifacts…or at least he had been before he’d taken off without a word. She doubted his interest, or the sharp acumen he’d once possessed, had been dulled.
    â€œWhat do you think?” Clea halted beside him. “Uruk period. Almost 3,500 years old. It’s like having our very own Vase of Warka. Isn’t it fabulous?”
    â€œThe Vase of Warka bore three panels of scenes of worship.”
    Clea rolled her eyes. “You know what I mean.”
    â€œThere was a vessel very much like this in the Iraq Museum—I saw it once.”
    â€œI’ve heard that, too. The Vessel of Inanna,” Clea said with a note of reverence in her voice. “But, unlike our treasure, that vase is in pristine condition, I believe. This piece has been substantially damaged—although it’s been expertly repaired. Cost a king’s ransom, let me tell you. Worth it, don’t you think?”
    His attention still on the vase, Brand said, “When I look at this vase I can’t help but think of the theft of the Vaseof Warka—completely different vase, nothing like this one, but stolen from the Iraq Museum during the sack of Baghdad.”
    â€œI know,” Clea said with a touch of impatience.
    â€œOf course, the story of the Vase of Warka had a sobering ending. Coincidentally enough, I was actually in Baghdad, part of a legion of troops stationed there, when it was returned two months later.”
    â€œYou never told me that.”
    â€œIt was surrendered under the watch of a group of surprised soldiers.” Brand’s voice was flat. Factual. “Thousands of years old, the Vase of Warka had been damaged, broken into fourteen pieces at some stage during the theft. An unnecessary price to pay for someone’s greed.”
    Clea found herself bristling. “So why does our vase—” she pointed to the display case “—remind you of that incident?” She couldn’t believe this conversation was heading where she suspected.
    â€œYou want me to spell it out?”
    She wasn’t going to let him draw her out like this. In the sunny voice she usually reserved for visitors to the museum and deep-pocketed moguls she was hitting up for funding, Clea said, “While it’s true that the base of this vessel has been broken like the Vase of Warka’s, I resent the implication that it was as a result of theft from the Iraq Museum. This is not the Vessel of Inanna that you saw there. This vase has sound provenance. I believe it was damaged a few years ago when the artifact was inspected for insurance purposes.”
    â€œAnd it wasn’t mended then?” Brand’s voice held disbelief.
    â€œI found that strange, too,” Clea admitted. “But the collector is aging, he found the maintenance taxing. Wehad it repaired shortly after acquiring it. You’ll see that it wasn’t the first damage. Eons ago it must’ve fallen because it has been mended by ancient craftsmen. See?”
    Clea pointed to the giveaway restoration marks and slanted him a sideways glance, gauging his reaction. Not a flicker.
    He turned his attention from