Meanwhile, her assortment of bikinis and clothes was strewn across her bed.
“You could start a bathing suit shop,” he remarked.
“I’m considering buying stock in bikinis.”
“It’s like an explosion. Or maybe they multiplied.”
“I couldn’t decide what to—” Then she stopped and clasped her hand over her mouth. His green gaze shifted from the bed to her.
“What to wear this afternoon?” he supplied, but his tone wasn’t jokey or sarcastic. It was soft and vulnerable. The look in his eyes was, too. As if he wanted her to say yes. The way he gazed at her made her want to say yes to so much more. To whatever he’d ask.
Oh Lord, this was so much tougher than she’d expected.
She nodded and breathed a quiet, “Yes.”
He stepped closer. Raised his hand. Traced an invisible line in the air, inches from her, traveling from her shoulder, along her breasts, down her belly, to her hip. She swallowed and breathed out hard as hot shivers followed his hand. He wasn’t even touching her, but the sensations, the mere possibilities, ignited her.
This was precisely why she didn’t want him in her room.
This was precisely why she wanted him in her room.
She was torn, her body asking for one thing, her mind telling her to just focus on the job because she and Jake were at odds.
“The outfit you chose is perfect,” he said, his voice low and gravelly, and so damn sexy that it nearly sapped all that remaining resistance. Especially when his fingertips brushed against her waist.
Somehow, she uttered a thanks, then made her way to the safe. She began to press the buttons on the lock. In an instant he was behind her, his hand on her hand, his chest against her back. Her mind returned to the flash of images that had played before her closed lids last night in her room as she satisfied that sweet ache he’d left her with on the dance floor. That same damn ache camped out again, beating a pulse in her belly, asking her to move closer to him. There. Right there. So she was aligned with the length of his strong, sturdy body.
He wrapped his fingers over hers.
“What are you doing?” She wasn’t sure if the question was about the safe or his intentions. Though his hard body—hard everywhere she wanted him to be—made it clear his intentions lived in the same vicinity as hers.
He drew a breath, then brushed his lips on her shoulder. She was ready to turn around, grab him, pull him to her bed, and let him strip her to nothing and take her. It had been a long time. So damn long that her body was ready to defect from her brain, which was trying to tell her she didn’t trust men as far as she could throw them and this man was nothing but red flags.
He whispered a combination of numbers. Five of them, to be precise.
The hair on her neck stood on end, and she froze.
She unfroze as he pushed those numbers on her safe, and the door popped open. She swiveled around and pressed her hands on his chest. She stared at him like he’d just crash-landed in her room on a rocket ship. “How did you do that?”
He shrugged and shot her a smile that could melt panties. “Told you I could open safes. I just wanted to show you.” He brushed a strand of hair off her shoulder. “So you know I’m a good partner.”
He bent his head closer to her neck once more and dusted another soft, barely there, almost chaste kiss on her. She pressed her hand to his chest, undeterred. “But how did you do that?” she asked again, refusing to focus on that kiss.
“Ariel,” he said casually. “Two, seven, four, three, five.”
Her jaw dropped, then she swatted him. “Not. Fair. You tricked me again.”
He laughed deeply, the booming sound carrying across the room. She nudged him away from the safe and grabbed the box with the diamond her stepfather had given her. A dose of embarrassment surged through her.
“C’mon, Steph,” he said, reaching for her.
She shrugged him off. “C’mon what?”
“I was just trying to show you what I could do.”
“Yeah, and you sure did. You made me look stupid for picking that as my combination.”
“I’m sure it’s not your ATM pin, though,” he said matter-of-factly, his sunshine eyes lighting up.
“No. It’s not,” she said, patting herself mentally on the back for choosing a slightly more complicated string for her bank. “I just can’t believe I picked something you figured out in two seconds.”
“It’s a name you like. It’s your nickname. Don’t feel bad. People usually choose familiar words for their combinations. Understanding habits and human nature is part of my job.”
“But you were kissing me and trying to make me melt in your arms to give it up.”
He laughed once more and shook his head. “Nope. You’re wrong there. You didn’t give it up. And I was just kissing your neck because you smelled so damn good I couldn’t help myself.” He held up his hands in surrender. “Twenty-four hours and I’ve already broken the rules. I promise it won’t happen again, and please do forgive me for not being able to resist you in that moment when you looked so ridiculously hot in front of the safe.”
He doffed an imaginary top hat, like a Victorian-era gentleman apologizing properly.
She huffed, wishing she could stay mad at him. She clutched the box to her chest. “Fine. Apology accepted. Now let’s go before you feel compelled to toss me on the bed and do very bad things to me as you practice ratios.”
He groaned, a deep, throaty sound that told her she’d regained the upper hand.
Momentarily.
As she drove to the diamond district with him, she gripped the steering wheel of her rental so she wouldn’t be tempted to run a hand along his arm. “OK, let’s review the plan. You’re going to get as many details on my diamond as you possibly can so we can try to figure out where it came from,” she said, her heart pinching with the hope that his intel would somehow make it clear that her rock was a simple gift from Eli.
“Yep. And what it’s worth, of course. To see if it could even add up. See, Andrew and I were originally thinking Eli might have moved the stolen money in art, like we talked about,” Jake said, and she winced at the word stolen. “But moving that much in art is conspicuous. It’s much easier to get on a plane with a handful of diamonds than with big wads of cash or hundreds of canvases. Shipping art that expensive, too, would be noticed, with the insurance a thief would need to cover it.”
Another wince. Another cringe. She wished he’d stop using those damn words.
“But gems,” Jake said, continuing his theorizing, “Eli can put on a string and wear that around his neck on the flight. He can have his fiancée wear them. Doesn’t matter. Once they’re diamonds, they travel easily on your person.”
“You don’t know he transported them on his neck, Jake,” she said through tight lips, keeping her eyes on the road. “We don’t know that he transported them at all.”
“Right,” he said, as if the word had ten syllables. “Maybe he had a private jet. But even so, you have to go through customs, and let’s say, hypothetically, if someone were to transport diamonds, or sapphires, or rubies, they’re movable much easier than a ton of art. That’s why a smart guy like—” he said, then stopped himself. “A smart person would take the stolen money and put it into jewels. Especially if someone can help him with safe transport.”
She knew he was referencing that e-mail, that damn incriminating e-mail, and all those other documents, too. She didn’t want to think about those details right now. She shifted to the strategy for today.
“So is there a secret back exit at International Diamonds? You’d better not sneak out the back door with my gem,” she said, zoning in on the task at hand—to find out how valuable these stones were.
“I promise I’m not going to dart through the diamond merchant’s shop to make off with your rock.”
“How do I know?” she asked, since it was, admittedly, risky to hand over the diamond for a few minutes. But it was riskie
r for her to go into the shop herself.
He rustled around in the passenger seat. At the red light, she glanced over. He was digging into his back pocket. He extracted his wallet and flipped it open, tapping the plastic covering his driver’s license. “Here you go. Take it. My identification. Can’t get anywhere without it. Plus, you’ve got all my credit cards in there, too, so you can have a spending spree if I turn out to be some crazy escape artist taking off with your diamond.”
He set the wallet in the center console, and her lips twitched up in a grin. “That’s a reasonable form of collateral.”
The light changed, and she pressed the gas, weaving through the afternoon traffic. “What happens if someone sees us together? What do I say? Who are you?”
He flashed a lopsided grin. “Well, you’ll be waiting in the car, so no one will. But if someone does, that’s easy. I’m a customer of Ariel’s Island Eco-Adventure Tours, and you hit on me on your dive tour.”
She rolled her eyes. “As if I would do that.”
“You totally hit on me. You couldn’t resist. I was underwater in my swim trunks, and you couldn’t stop staring, so you hit on me,” he said, the cocky bastard, as he dropped his hand onto her bare thigh. She hitched in a breath.
“You wish,” she said, trying to ignore the fact that she liked his hand on her leg.
“It’s true. I speak the full truth,” he said as he tugged the ball cap lower on his head. “You picked me up and you insisted on having me.”
“Just like you insisted on kissing me back in my hotel room,” she said as she flicked on her blinker and turned onto Wayboard Street.
“I’ll try to do a better job resisting you,” he said, but as she locked eyes with him, the look in his said resistance would be tough.
She nearly swerved when a car honked its horn at her.
Better pay attention to the road than his sexy eyes.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
International Diamonds commanded the corner of the street. The sign above the shop glittered, with huge cutout gems bookending the name.
He pushed open the door, and a blast of cool air-conditioning greeted him. He was nearly blinded by the dazzling displays of gems. Cases upon cases. Row upon row. Necklaces, and bracelets, and rings, and watches, and even barrettes.
The shop was busy, thronging with curious tourists, judging from the attire. But also a few businessmen, he reasoned, when he spotted a pair of men in slacks and button-down shirts at the far counter. They were engaged in what looked to be a deep discussion with an employee. This was good. The busier the shop was, the less likely anyone would remember him, even though the diamond he had was memorable.
He wandered along the counters, peering through the glass at the loose gems, absently drumming his fingers along the case.
“May I help you, sir?”
The question came from a young woman in a white lab coat. She wore black glasses and had her dark hair twisted up in a bun.
“That’d be great,” he said, reaching into his pocket to remove the gem. “My sister’s husband gave her a diamond to try to win her back after he broke her heart. But he did it again, and we’re just trying to figure out how much this pretty little number is worth, even though nothing’s worth the cost of the heartache he gave her.”
The woman shot him a sympathetic smile. “I’m so sorry to hear that. Diamonds are a wonderful gift, but so much more wonderful when it’s a true expression of love.”
“Couldn’t agree more. And she just wants to donate the money to charity now. She doesn’t plan on keeping it. She wants something good to come of that bastard’s cheating ways.”
“I completely understand. Let’s see what you have,” she said, spreading out a velvet cloth on the counter. Jake laid the diamond on it.
“Oh my,” the woman said under her breath. She looked up at Jake. “He really did mess up.”
Jake laughed lightly. “He sure did.”
Using a tweezers-like object, the woman carefully plucked the diamond from the cloth, raised it to her face, then peered at it through a small magnifying glass. “This is gorgeous,” she said as she regarded the stone.
Jake waited as she considered it from all angles.
Once she set it down, she fixed on a closed smile, then spoke in a crisp tone. “This is watermarked.”
A bolt of nerves crashed into him. Shit. Watermarked had to be bad. Was that like trying to use counterfeit money? Was she going to press a button behind the counter, shutter the metal blinds, and set off alarms to keep him caged in?
“Is that so?” he asked, keeping his tone as even as it could be. “Where does it come from?”
“Not all diamonds are watermarked. But some are, and a watermarked diamond means it comes from a particular mine. This is from the Frayer mine in the Northwest Territories in Canada, which specializes in conflict-free, politically correct diamonds mined from the subarctic north.”
Jake nodded and released his breath. Whew. “Well, at least the ex has that point in his favor,” he said, though his mind leaped several steps ahead to Eli “The Thief” Thompson. Was he a thief with a politically correct conscience?
“Yes, this is one of the best-regarded diamond mines in the entire world. And these diamonds with the blue tint are highly valuable. At this size and carat, I would estimate this is worth at least ten thousand dollars.”
He nearly bit his tongue, holding in the whoop of both shock and triumph he was tempted to unleash as the amount registered, and he added up numbers. “That so?”
“It is indeed,” she said, her dark eyes fixed on him, as if she were studying him. “I can handle the transaction for you if you’d like. We have handled a few of these diamonds recently. Every time we receive a new one, we can easily find buyers all over the world. I can give you full value today, sir. Are you ready to get started?” she asked, sounding way more eager than he’d expected for someone forking over cash, rather than being on the receiving end. Her gaze remained locked on his, and her stare was intense.
And, admittedly, a little odd. Like she was ready to pounce on him if he said yes.
“Let me talk to my sister, and we’ll be back tomorrow.”
“Excellent. I look forward to seeing you. I’m Monica. You can ask for me. I’ll be looking forward to helping you.”
He saluted her as he pocketed the gem with his other hand. “Great talking to you, Monica.”
Two minutes later, he climbed inside Steph’s Jeep and handed her the five-figure gem. “Your stepdad is generous. That bad boy is worth ten K. You’re going to change the combination on your safe tonight, Ariel.”
Her eyes widened to the size of moons. “Are you kidding me?”
He shook his head. “I assure you I’m not,” he said, then told her the details of the mine as they stayed parked on the side of the road, the afternoon sun shining through the window. “So Eli gets them from this Canadian mine, from a merchant who sources from there, probably through Constantine Trevino. That’s the guy he was in contact with back when he was still at the fund. He gets all the diamonds while he’s still in the United States working with this guy,” he said, though the part that worried Jake was what Eli was doing with the stones now that he was here in the land of do-whatever-you-want-with-money. Was he selling them all off and converting them back into cash? Was he selling them in small chunks? Wilder had said someone had brought a small batch of these blue diamonds into International Diamonds recently. Did that mean Eli had already turned a few stones into greenbacks?
Jake doubted it. Eli was cunning. He was probably cashing them in bit by bit, stone by stone, so as not to draw undue attention. Time was of the essence.
Later today, he’d call Andrew and update him on this latest discovery. See if his client had any new intel on those e-mails he was trying to decode. Especially given that the diamonds were watermarked, Jake had no interest in hunting diamonds that were highly traceable. He needed to know that point A led to point B—that the stolen money
was used to buy the gems from that mine. The clues added up, but facts were awfully nice, too.
“Once he gets the diamonds from that mine, all he has to do is get on a plane to the Caymans with a pocketful of diamonds,” Jake added.
Steph arched an eyebrow. “A pocketful? I don’t know. Maybe he doesn’t have as many as you think. Maybe he’s giving them away as gifts. For his fiancée, for me. We have no idea how many he actually has,” she said, her voice rising as she once again tried to poke holes in the possibility of what her stepfather had done.
It was noble, and sweet, in a way, that she wanted to believe the guy. But she was also dead wrong.
“I guarantee he has more than a few. A lot more. In fact, I know exactly how many he has,” Jake said, his lips twitching in a confident grin.
She knit her brow together as she cranked the AC button, since the car was heating up. “How do you know?”
“Because it adds up,” he said, tapping his temple. “Math.”
“OK, Mr. Math. Tell me how two plus two equals a lot more.”
“The e-mail from the merchant. It said safe transport for a grand.”
Her jaw went slack. “Seriously?”
He nodded. “Two plus two,” he said, his tone gentler, even though excitement was coursing through him as he worked with her to assemble clues. He’d nearly forgotten how fun it could be, now and then, to work in tandem.
She shook her head, a flicker of sadness in her eyes as she spoke. “It does add up. Ten million divided by ten thousand is indeed one thousand,” she said, her tone heavy, as she divided the missing money by the cost of one stone. “Otherwise known as a grand.”
The Sapphire Affair (A Jewel Novel Book 1) Page 13