“Oh, my God,” I whispered.

It was a book. The most exquisite jeweled book I’d ever seen. And possibly the oldest. It was large, about twelve inches tall by nine inches wide, and almost three inches thick. I suppressed the urge to whip out my metal ruler.

The heavily padded leather binding was decorated with intricate gilding and precious gems. Teardropshaped rubies were affixed to each corner. Small, round sapphires lined the circular center, where a gilded peacock spread its tail feathers. Tiny diamonds, emeralds, and rubies were encrusted in the feathers. The thickly gilded borders of the cover and turn-ins were reminiscent of the patterns used by royal French bookbinders of the eighteenth century. Some of the gold had flaked off and the red leather was rubbed and faded in spots.

“Peacocks are the national bird of India,” Robin said. “Did you know that?”

“I had no idea.” I picked up the book and studied the foredge. With the book closed, the pages were deckled, or untrimmed, for a ragged effect. I could tell that the paper itself was thick vellum.

I checked the spine. It read, Vatsyayana. I looked at Robin. “What is this?”

“Open it and find out.”

“I’m almost afraid.” But I lifted the front cover and turned to the title page. “You’re kidding.”

“Nope.”

“The Kama Sutra?”

“Yes.” Robin grinned.

“From your mother?”

Now she laughed. “It actually belongs to one of Mom’s friends who’s been wanting to have it refurbished for a long time. Mom insisted there was no one better for the job than you.”

“That’s so sweet.”

“I thought so.” Robin sipped her wine as she watched me ogle the book.

“Who’s her friend?” I asked.

“His name is Rajiv Mizra and she’s known him forever. Nice man. Wealthier than sin, naturally, or why would Mom hang out with him? I think he’s been in love with her for ages, but she always says they’re just good friends.”