Marrying the Enemy

by Nicola Marsh

  ‘Thanks, Fritz.’

  She waited until Fritz had walked far enough away not to overhear before she swivelled back.

  Her plan to renege on her offer of a coffee fizzled when the guy’s lips curved into a devastating smile that snatched her breath. She’d suffered the same oxygen deprivation when she’d glimpsed a pink diamond for the first time and she surreptitiously rubbed under her ribs and over her diaphragm, willing the air to fill her lungs so she wouldn’t feel so wonky.

  ‘Coffee sounds good.’

  How could one smile make her feel so uncertain, so hesitant, so thrilled?

  She hated feeling this off balance. Which was why she liked her men arty and laid-back, not glowering and dangerous.

  ‘Actually, it’s been a long night—’

  ‘Running scared?’ He ducked his head to murmur in the vicinity of her ear and she could’ve sworn she swayed.

  If his warm breath fanning her cheek weren’t bad enough, his citrus scent would’ve completed the job of knocking her off kilter.

  He smelled delicious, crisp and sexy and devourable.

  Folding her arms to hide the telltale signs of her body’s reaction to him, she rolled her eyes.

  ‘Fine, one coffee then you’re out of here.’

  He touched her arm, the barest graze sending a sizzle of heat shooting through her like a jolt of electricity. ‘Not so brave now, huh?’

  Bravery had nothing to do with it. Self-preservation did. This instantaneous spark between them was too powerful, too potent, too potentially troublesome.

  She didn’t need complications in her life, not now when saving Seaborn’s was her priority.

  And a delicious-smelling, beyond-gorgeous, bad boy was one giant complication waiting to happen.

  ‘I flirt with everyone—you shouldn’t take it personally.’

  ‘Is that right?’ He took a step forward, bringing him tantalisingly close.

  He didn’t touch her. He didn’t need to, her pebbling skin a dead giveaway of how his proximity affected her. ‘Better learn to control that habit because some guys may get the wrong idea.’

  She shouldn’t bait him, she really shouldn’t but she couldn’t resist. There was something about him, something untouchable, that made her want to ruffle his assured poise. ‘What idea’s that?’

  ‘That you’re offering more than you’re willing to give.’

  His innuendo rippled over her like submerging in the warmest, most decadent bubble bath and she clamped down on the urge to see exactly how willing she could be.

  She tilted her head up. ‘I’m offering coffee. Take it or leave it.’

  He hesitated and disappointment doused her ever-growing attraction to a guy she barely knew. There went the little fantasy of fending off his lusty advances.

  He searched her face, looking for something, and it made her uncomfortable to the point of squirming.

  On the verge of retracting her offer, he slowly lifted his arm and gestured towards the back of the showroom.

  ‘Lead the way.’

  CHAPTER TWO

  JAX had lucked out.

  His reasons for attending tonight had been twofold: show the Melbourne snobs he’d returned, ready to infiltrate their closed ranks, and plant the takeover seed in Sapphire Seaborn’s mind.

  Sadly, the Seaborn spokeswoman hadn’t been in attendance but he had the next best thing: her sister.

  Glancing at Ruby, matching him stride for stride as they headed towards the rear of the showroom, he amended his earlier assessment.

  Maybe he hadn’t lucked out after all.

  The younger Seaborn was a firecracker. All mouth and defiance.

  Not his type at all but for a few decadent hours he’d like her to be.

  He didn’t intend on getting physical, not with so much at stake. He had big plans for a proposed takeover but for a moment, with the down-lights making her hair shimmer like spun gold and her breasts straining against satin with every step she took, he wished he didn’t have so much to lose.

  ‘You’ve never been to Seaborn’s before.’

  It was a statement, not a question and he admired her bluntness.

  ‘No. Why? Because you would’ve remembered me?’

  Her lips quirked at his teasing. ‘I remember all our customers.’

  ‘All?’

  ‘Each and every one.’

  ‘I find that hard to believe.’

  She chuckled and held up her hands in surrender. ‘Okay, I lied. I remember each and every piece I’ve ever created and, in turn, the people who acquire them.’

  ‘Impressive.’

  As impressive as the showroom she led him through. The long, cavernous room gleamed, from its honey polished boards to soft ivory walls to spot lights strategically placed to highlight the merchandise.

  From what he could see of the one-of-a-kind pieces in gems of all shapes and sizes behind alarmed glass cases, the merchandise took centre stage.

  While he’d worked in the mining side of the gem trade for a few years now, he’d never been interested in the gems themselves. The bottom dollar floated his boat. The end-product sparkly stuff? Not so much.

  ‘What do you think of my work?’

  She’d caught him checking out the jewellery. Observant and astute, as well as refreshingly blunt and gorgeous.

  ‘Not bad if you like that sort of thing.’

  She stopped and pretended to clutch her heart. ‘Not bad?’

  She jabbed a finger in his direction and he resisted the urge to grab her hand, lift it to his mouth and kiss each and every one of her knuckles.

  Before belatedly realising what the hell was he thinking?

  ‘Do you know how long it takes to create each of these pieces?’

  ‘No, but I’m sure you’ll enlighten me.’ His laconic grin earned him another you philistine glare.

  She pointed to the nearest display, a simple gold necklace elevated to sublime by the exquisitely cut emeralds shimmering against the black velvet backdrop.

  ‘See that? I’m a lapidary as well as a designer, so it took me a month to cut and polish the emeralds, another two to get the bail and bar and ring clasp right.’

  Clueless, he raised an eyebrow and she elaborated. ‘The bail is that triangular bit that attaches the pendant to the necklace. The bar and ring, or toggle clasp, is the fastener where the bar is inserted into the ring to attach the two ends of the necklace.’

  ‘Sounds fascinating.’

  Her dubious glare insinuated he was mocking her. He wasn’t. Hearing her speak so passionately only piqued his interest more.

  And made him wonder how passionate she’d be in other areas.

  She crooked her finger and he gladly pressed his nose to the glass to be closer to her. ‘See the intricate bezel setting around each emerald? My signature.’

  ‘Beautiful.’

  He wasn’t looking at the necklace and they both knew it by the delicate pink staining her cheeks before she straightened and edged away.

  Before he could second-guess his actions, something he never did in the business arena, he snagged her arm. ‘Didn’t think you’d be the shy, retiring type, so why can’t you take a compliment?’

  Something furtive bordering on hurt flickered in her eyes before she deliberately blinked. When she opened them, their unusual green sparked better than the emeralds locked behind the case.

  ‘Honestly? It’s been a long evening—’ he only just caught her a long year ‘—and I’m dead on my feet.’

  Sympathy jagged his conscience. The polite thing to do would be to leave. Retreat and come back another time when Sapphire Seaborn was here and he could launch his subtle attack.

  But he hadn’t come this far without being ruthless and no way would he back down now. He needed to deliver a message and the beautiful blonde could relay it to her sister much better than he could.

  ‘You want me to leave?’

  An empty question observing niceties when he had no intention o
f playing nice.

  She fiddled with the diamond tennis bracelet on her wrist, twisting it round and round. ‘Yes and no.’

  Confused, he folded his arms and waited. ‘Enlighten me.’

  With a drawn-out sigh, she eyeballed him. ‘Yeah, I’d love you to leave so I can head up to my apartment, get out of this fancy outfit and kick back with my fluffy slippers, a tub of caramelised popcorn and Jake Gyllenhaal.’

  A chick-flick fan, he should’ve known. Was there no woman on the planet who didn’t go for slick movie stars?

  Her fingers flitted from the bracelet to sliding a dress ring around her third finger. ‘No, because you’re a mystery, and I want to know what you were really doing here tonight apart from skulking in corners ignoring my exquisite creations.’

  Yeah, she was a firecracker all right, and a lick of excitement jabbed his jaded soul.

  ‘No mystery. Jax Maroney.’

  He held out his hand but his attempt at a handshake fell flat when he had to grab her to prevent her collapsing at his feet.

  She swayed, her skin pale, her eyes wide and startled as she stared at him as if he’d popped up from Hades to steal her soul.

  ‘You’re Jax Maroney?’ Her incredulity implied she’d find believing he was Elvis in disguise easier.

  ‘Last time I checked.’

  Her pallor vanished as colour surged to her cheeks and her neck muscles snapped rigid.

  ‘Get out.’

  He’d heard that phrase used a fair bit as a kid, when he’d hung out with mates who’d idolised their dads.

  ‘Get out, kids, the pub’s no place for you. This is men’s business.’

  The thing was, whenever he’d followed his dad, Denver didn’t mind. He’d been proud of his son, would clap him on the back and ruffle his hair and cuff him playfully.

  Most of his mates had envied him, having a dad so cool. And he’d idolised Denver, loved everything about him from his raucous belly laughs to his booming voice, his unerring ability to command a room just by being in it to his generosity with money.

  He’d only learned later it was easy to be generous with money that wasn’t yours.

  And their close father-son bond only made what his dad had done all the harder to accept.

  He released her, annoyed she hadn’t lost the horrified look.

  ‘That’s not very charitable. How did we go from coffee to get out?’

  She gnawed on a gloriously full bottom lip, eyeing him as if she half expected he’d ransack the entire showroom contents and abscond.

  ‘On second thoughts, you’re coming with me.’ She grabbed his arm and dragged him towards a black filigree wrought-iron door with a winding staircase behind it. ‘You need your butt kicked and I’m just the woman to do it.’

  For someone who hadn’t had much to smile about lately, he found himself unable to stop the slow grin stretching his disused facial muscles.

  He’d like to see her try.

  * * *

  Ruby was a spontaneous, roll-with-the-punches kinda gal but dragging Jax Maroney up the stairs and into her apartment for interrogation threw her.

  From all accounts the guy had fled Melbourne years ago, eager to escape the fallout from his father’s incarceration.

  While there’d been no hint of criminal behaviour tainting Jax, how much had he seen and done?

  Rumours had been rife during the trial. Had Jax known about the embezzlement? Had he laundered money like his dad had? Had he stashed away a small fortune untouchable by the law? Had he helped his mum disappear?

  She hadn’t followed the news but her mum had been outraged by the thought of a renowned criminal like Denver Maroney having access to high-society money, friends’ money, and swindling the lot.

  As for Jackie, Jax’s mum, Mathilda Seaborn had raised her nose in the air and forbidden either of her daughters to speak of her again. Being duped by a criminal was one thing. Being betrayed by one of their own another.

  How Jax had ended up CEO of a profitable mining company in Western Australia, a mining company driving her family business into the ground, was what she had every intention of finding out.

  Learning his identity, she now understood the hint of danger emanating from him—and understood her unlikely attraction.

  She’d always had a thing for bad boys.

  She unlocked the door to her apartment and flung it open, giving him a none too gentle shove inside before slamming it and whirling to face him.

  Stepping into her sanctuary comforted her: the funky Indian floor cushions in turquoise and tangerine, the fresh fuchsia gerberas stuck in mismatched coloured bottles serving as vases, the aromatherapy candles littering every available surface.

  Not tonight. Tonight, she had every intention of screwing over Jax Maroney the same way he’d been doing to her family business.

  ‘If that’s how you treat all your guests I’ll pass on the coffee—’

  ‘Zip it.’ She pointed at the lowest chair, wanting him at a height disadvantage. ‘Take a seat. I’ll be back.’

  He shrugged and surprisingly did as instructed, folding his six-three frame into the soft chintz. ‘Just for the record, I don’t take kindly to orders.’

  His gaze started at her feet and swept upwards, deliberately lingering in places it shouldn’t. ‘But considering you’re about to slip into something more comfortable, it may be worth my while staying around.’

  ‘You’re obnoxious,’ she said, the sting taken out of her words by an irrepressibly smug grin at his backhanded compliment.

  ‘And you’re spectacular.’

  Wow.

  That zing of attraction between them? Zapped her in a big way.

  Annoyed by her body’s betrayal when she had a business score to settle, she flounced out of the room. Not that she’d ever flounced in her life but going up against Jax Maroney brought out the worst in her.

  She wanted to rattle him as much as he rattled her but something behind those coal-black eyes, an inner resistance combined with formidable will, told her she wished for the impossible.

  Propping open her bedroom door with a shoe, she kept an eye on him through the slit while grabbing the nearest change of clothes she could find.

  ‘Don’t make yourself comfortable—you won’t be staying long,’ she said, slithering out of the emerald satin, kicking off her stilettos and gratefully slipping into a zigzag-patterned strapless jumpsuit.

  ‘And here I was, thinking the renowned Seaborns would be hospitable and gracious.’

  As she tugged the ruched elastic bodice of the jumpsuit up, her blood chilled. He knew about her family.

  The question was, how much?

  Did he know her dad had died when she’d been in her early teens? That her mum had carried on the family business ever since, building it into Australia’s premier jewellers? That Sapphie had juggled modelling and spokeswoman duties while studying for a business degree and master’s part-time? That she’d loved being the younger sister with less responsibility and more recreation time?

  The familiar guilt at her extensive social life while her sister had borne the burden of making Seaborn’s flourish niggled at her once again.

  She’d been irresponsible and carefree while Sapphie took on too much and ended up sick.

  No more.

  She snatched out the clip holding her loose chignon in place and ran her fingers through her hair. She liked loose and muss. She didn’t like uptight and controlled. Like her unwelcome guest.

  When she stepped out of her bedroom, her wary gaze collided with his, the instant ping of attraction zapping her synapses, making a mockery of her self-professed dislike.

  ‘Zebra stripes? Interesting outfit.’ Amusement quirked the corners of his mouth and she resisted the urge to tug at the bodice again. ‘Rather fitting, what with zebras being an endangered species and all.’

  Like Seaborn’s hung unsaid between them and she glared at him.

  ‘You’re not here for a fashion critique.’ She m
arched across the room and sat opposite him, tucking her bare feet beneath her. ‘And you’re skipping the coffee.’

  His deliberately blasé expression didn’t flicker but she noted coiled tension in his fingers digging into the chintz.

  ‘Then why am I here?’ He instilled enough innuendo into his silky tone to make her pulse leap.

  ‘That’s easy.’ She snapped her fingers. ‘So I can tell you exactly what I think of your business practices and to ensure you stay the hell away from Seaborn’s.’

  Jax settled into the prissy chair, draping an arm across the back and extending his legs, crossed at the ankles.

  If his silence didn’t provoke Ruby, his deliberately relaxed posture would, and he scored a direct hit as her eyes narrowed, sparking green fire.

  He’d learned from managing a variety of workers in the outback that it was easier to let angry people rave, purging it from their system, rather than interrupt or stem the flow and exacerbate the situation.

  Besides, he was curious. How had she learned of his proposed takeover of Seaborn’s? Better still, what did a capricious, eccentric blonde think she could do about it?

  His research had been thorough. Seaborn’s was heavily in the red and no amount of flashy collection launches or handcrafted necklaces could save it.

  ‘Aren’t you going to say something? Defend yourself?’

  ‘Why, when you’re saying enough for the both of us?’ He flashed a self-righteous smile designed to infuriate her.

  By the frown slashing her brow, it worked. ‘Your mine is undercutting ours,’ she accused. ‘Selling gems at bargain-basement prices and we can’t compete. We’re a small mine supplying a family business, your mine is supplying the mega jewellery chains selling lesser-quality pieces. Cheaper prices attract more customers despite the quality.’

  The corners of her mouth drooped. ‘You’re killing us.’

  He didn’t blink at her sob story. He’d given up on emotional appeals a long time ago.

  Deliberately taunting her, he rubbed his thumb and forefinger together.

  Her lips compressed in a thin, unimpressed line. ‘That better not be what I think it is.’