But then she mentioned the Christmas decorations again. He’d already had them fetched. He could just tell her that and nothing more. But this was too ideal an opportunity to mention that the rest of her stored valuables were gone, not when she was requesting them, but while she assumed she wouldn’t have to sell them now, so the loss wouldn’t hit her so hard. They’d be “found,” of course, after her father returned. Vincent had no intention of stealing anything from the Ascots, other than their good reputation.

He didn’t consider dispensing with the theft story. He’d already seduced her, yes, but now he had to worry that she would ask him directly about marriage, and if she did, he wasn’t going to lie about it. Which would put her back to thinking she had to leave, which he still wasn’t willing to let her do. When her father returned would be soon enough to give her up. So having her think she had no means to leave would still be beneficial—for him.

To that end, he managed a suitably grave expression before saying, “Speaking of those Christmas decorations, they arrived here this morning, but I’m afraid some bad news was delivered with them.”

“They’ve been damaged?” she asked in alarm.

“Not that I’m aware of,” he quickly assured her. “But apparently there was a robbery late last night at the warehouse where your belongings were stored. The report from the attendant who keeps a watch on the place was that it was a selective robbery, which isn’t uncommon, since it can be accomplished in the least amount of time.”

“I’ve been robbed?” she said incredulously.

“We have been robbed,” he clarified. “I had a few valuables stored there myself. But most of your possessions are still there. As I said, the thieves were selective. They took only what they considered valuable and easily movable, paintings, vases, and other small pieces of art. They were in and gone in under ten minutes, which was the amount of time the attendant was indisposed.”

“I had plans for those paintings,” she said in a forlorn whisper.

He hadn’t counted on her stricken look. He now knew exactly how his secretary had felt that night when she’d turned this look on him. Vincent didn’t have the luxury of resigning from what he’d started, however, without admitting he was a despicable liar.

He could, however, lessen the blow, and assured her, “I’m not writing this off, Larissa. The robbery has been reported to the authorities, but I’ve already assigned my own people to track down these culprits. What was taken will be recovered. If your portion isn’t found by the beginning of the New Year, I will replace the value myself.”

“You . . . don’t have to do that,” she replied. “It’s not your fault—”