by Zuri Day
“What did you say?”
“I said sorry about that.” And he managed to keep a straight face while doing so. “But I knew that you’d come kicking and screaming, even with the threat of telling your dad about our little tryst.”
“Yeah, well, it may be too late to keep a lid on it anyway.” Diamond told Jackson about Dexter’s find. “I came because we need to talk. What happened was a one-time lapse in judgment. It won’t happen again.”
Jackson shrugged. The sooner the world knew that he and Diamond had a thing going, the better. As for what they had being over, he figured that for now he’d let her hang on to that illusion. “Here.” He held out a box.
“What’s this?”
“A peace offering. Open it.”
She did and couldn’t help laughing at what was inside. “A diamond-covered rooster brooch, Jackson. Really?”
“A rooster is one word for it. But others call it a cock.”
Diamond laughed in spite of herself. “How romantic,” she drily finished.
“Just wanted to give you something to remember me by.”
She looked at this arrogant, cocky guy, caught the hint of vulnerability and longing for acceptance shining in those dark eyes. He put up a good front, but Diamond knew this gift was a bigger deal than Jackson was making of it. “Okay, it’s gawdy but kinda cute.” She began pinning it to her designer tee.
“Here, let me.”
Okay, pinning a rooster on someone’s shirt should not be romantic, but it was. Diamond breathed in Jackson’s fresh, woodsy scent, felt the heat from his fingers as they brushed against her skin. If she turned her face to the right, just a bit, their lips would be in dangerously close proximity to each other, and if she placed her right hand just above the thigh just inches away, then, well, she could squeeze his rooster.
Their drinks arrived. Diamond quickly reached for hers and, after a sip, stirred around the amber-colored liquid with the maraschino cherry that perched on top. “Why’d you have to leave?” she said, in a Herculean effort to force her thoughts away from farm animals.
“Problems at the office.” And that’s putting it mildly.
Sounded like the perfect answer…for one hiding a female. “Are you going to give me details, or is this classified information?”
“It’s classified.”
Never long on patience, Diamond quickly found herself bored with Jackson’s word games. But his vagueness was welcomed; it was what she needed to stay clear on what was happening here—a big, fat nothing. “Well, since I seem to be the only one with new information, here it is. From this day forward, ours will be a business-only relationship. You are to conduct yourself accordingly. We have to work together for the next few weeks, after which it will be perfectly okay if I never see you again. Now, since we’ve cleared the air, I’ll be leaving. I’ve better things to do on a Friday night—”
“Like what?”
“Like none of your business.” Diamond would swallow her tongue before she’d release the fact that a night of novel reading was the exciting item on her agenda. She took another sip of her drink, piercing Jackson with her gaze.
“You’re right, Diamond, you deserve an explanation on why I had to leave so quickly. But that’s only one of the reasons I asked you here. The other reason is this—what happened yesterday was amazing. I’ve had my share of lovers, but I’ve never felt the way I did yesterday afternoon.”
“And how was that?” Diamond queried, chiding herself for doing so while hiding her surprise—and her feelings—behind sarcasm.
Jackson leaned forward, took Diamond’s small hands into his much larger ones. “It felt like magic. When I was inside you, baby, it was like coming home. I know you said what happened was a one-time fling, but for the record, I want to hang out with you for a minute.”
“How long is a minute?” Diamond asked.
Jackson shrugged. “Until we’re both satisfied or…whatever.”
Diamond sat back and gazed at the man in front of her. Yet again, she was seeing a side of Jackson that she hadn’t seen before. This one was honest and tender and looked finer than anyone had a right to in just a simple, pale yellow button-down shirt. The familiar heat in her core began uncoiling. Diamond looked away. “I felt the same way about what happened. It was different.” She looked at him. “Special. But no matter how good the sex, Jackson, and it was amazing, I’m looking for more in my life—permanence, commitment. And that’s not you.”
Inwardly, Jackson flinched. She’d mentioned commitment, but that’s not what he heard. His translation? That a man like him—former wannabe gangbanger and drug dealer and all-around ghetto child—wasn’t good enough for a princess. But on the outside? Cool as the proverbial green summer vegetable. In spite of this, he pressed her. “You don’t even know me.”
“Yes, but I’ve heard about you, and the story is that you’re a ladies’ man.”
“I’ve never led a woman on. Everything that has gone down in my love life has been by mutual consent.”
“Perhaps, but mutual consent doesn’t always cancel out a broken heart.” Now, Diamond deduced, it was her turn to be honest. “I don’t know if I could keep my feelings casual where you’re concerned, but one thing I know for sure is I’m not willing to spend my time with a Casanova and spin my wheels in a going-nowhere affair.”
Jackson slowly nodded. “Fair enough.”
Diamond realized there was much more to this man than met the eye or made the paper. For all the news about Jackson Wright she’d gleaned from her brothers, there was little known beyond his professional acumen and carefree, playboy ways. An uncomfortable feeling came over her as she acknowledged this truth: she wanted to know more, and she wanted to “fling” at least one more time.
Chapter 17
Diamond sat back and looked around, for the first time noticing the candle-holding hollowed pumpkins that graced the tables and announced Halloween. “What happened at your company yesterday?”
“I thought you had to leave.”
She made a show of looking at her watch. “I have some time.”
Jackson leaned toward her. “Can you keep a confidence?” His voice was low, his breath wet against her earlobe.
Diamond nodded, swallowed.
“Promise?”
“Yes.”
“There was a break-in at my office.”
Diamond’s brow knitted in confusion and concern. “What would someone want so badly from you that they’d steal to get it?”
Jackson shifted in his seat and took a drink. This wasn’t going to be as easy as he thought. There was no way he could tell her that the person broke into his office to leave something. “I’ve got some people looking into it. What can I say?” Jackson said with a shrug, his voice as casual as if he were discussing basketball scores. “Everyone isn’t happy with my success.”
“You have enemies?”
“No doubt.”
Diamond smiled. “What successful person doesn’t have a hater or two?”
Jackson’s mind went to who he believed was his number-one nemesis: Solomon Dent. Solomon had been John Wright’s right-hand man, the man who thought himself a shoo-in for the position that Jackson now occupied. John had included Solomon in his will, had stipulated that he be president for a period of five years before turning over the reins to his nephew, but for Solomon, a little piece of the pie wasn’t enough. He’d wanted it all. After a vicious court battle, Jackson prevailed. Solomon was awarded a substantial financial settlement. But the job hadn’t been just about money but also prestige. A man with his ego could still be smarting over the early, forced departure. The fact that it was self-inflicted seemed to have been lost in translation.
And there were others rivals: both from his professio
nal and private life, including a man who blamed Jackson for his ex-fiancée’s alienated affections. The truth was the junior architect had fallen in love with Jackson. But he hadn’t returned her affections. Even when she’d shown up buck naked on his doorstep, save for a sarong, he’d turned her down. But to hear old boy tell it, Jackson had pulled her kicking and screaming from the brother’s arms. More than one person had overheard the threats of what this man wanted to do if he ever caught Jackson late at night in a dark alley. And after today’s note he’d acknowledged another possibility, one that seemed far-reaching at best: that someone from his childhood thought he’d talked out of school and, now, more than a decade since he’d moved from the hood, was attempting retribution.
The waitress came and took their orders. Once she’d left the table, Jackson asked, “Have you eaten here before?”
Diamond nodded, working hard to keep a neutral expression on her face.
She was only partly successful. Jackson couldn’t tell what lay under the flash of darkness that appeared in her eyes. Hurt? Anger? Disappointment? “Bad memories?”
“Something like that” was her vague response. “But the food is good.”
“It’s nothing compared to the dessert I have in mind.”
The dark look of desire in Jackson’s eyes was unmistakable. Diamond placed a hand on her stomach to try and still the butterflies that gathered there. Fat chance. She wanted this man with a vengeance, which was the very reason why, as much as she wanted to, she really shouldn’t be intimate again. If she was this turned out after one good sexing, what would she be like after a second round? A candidate for Dr. Drew is what, she decided, working with the good doctor to cure an addiction of the Jackson kind.
“Diamond Drake,” Jackson murmured. “Where’d you get that name?”
Diamond smiled. “My father. Unlike most men who want sons, Dad always wanted a little girl. When I arrived, he deemed me his jewel and named me after one that was beautiful yet resilient.”
“And humble, too.”
“Those are my dad’s words, not mine.” Diamond arched a brow. “Do you disagree with my father?” The look on Jackson’s face brought instant moisture between her legs.
“Do I look like I disagree with him? Baby, you’re as fine as Drake wine in the summertime.”
“Ha! That sounds like a line my dad would use!”
“I don’t doubt it, especially since it came from the arsenal of sayings Uncle John used on Aunt Evie.”
For the first time since meeting, the two experienced a casual camaraderie, and Diamond’s smile was genuine as she looked across the table at a man she already adored. “Tell me about your—”
A couple entering the dining room stopped Diamond midspeak.
“Who is it?” Jackson asked without turning around.
Of all the restaurants and of all the nights, what are the chances? Diamond wasn’t able to keep the frown off her face as she answered, “You’re getting ready to come face-to-face with my bad memory.” She looked up as the couple approached their table. Benjamin Carter was as handsome as she remembered: a bald-headed chocolate drop who made up in length what he lacked in height. Until this afternoon, she’d thought his was the appendages of appendages. But now she knew better. Thank, God. The woman beside him could have been Diamond’s cousin, so much did they look alike. Similar height, weight, complexion and, had Diamond not recently cut hers, shoulder-length hair. Yep, definitely could have been the Bobbsey Twins.
“Hello, Diamond.”
Diamond nodded. “Benjamin.”
You could cut the tension with a Q-tip.
“I just wanted to say a quick hello. How’s the family?”
“Fine,” Diamond answered Benjamin but eyed her twin.
“Hello,” the woman said—smile sincere, hand outstretched. “I’m Pat, Benjamin’s wife.”
Hold on. Back up. Did she say “wife”? Diamond summoned up an act that was Oscar-worthy. Her expression remained so blank you would have sworn she’d shot Botox. She shook Pat’s hand. “Diamond Drake.”
A flash of recognition appeared, but Pat was going for an Emmy herself. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“And this,” Diamond said while casually placing a hand on his thigh as if it were the most natural thing to do, “is Jackson Wright.” She leaned into him as she added, “Baby, this is my ex I told you about. The one I dumped…remember?”
Oh, snap. Those words shot out so fast that even sprinter Usain Bolt couldn’t have caught them. Grandma Mary would not have been pleased, but a residual of hurt that Diamond thought dead and buried had resurrected and pushed class and decorum right out of the way. She clamped her mouth shut, but the horse was not only out of the barn…it could run straight into Pat’s mouth, which hung wide open. “I’m sorry,” she said. “That wasn’t nice.”
“No, it wasn’t, but that’s your nature,” Benjamin retorted. “Which is why I dumped you. Come on, Pat,” he said, reaching for his wife’s hand. “Let’s join our more civilized company.” A slightly bewildered-looking Pat followed her husband, Diamond’s snort her only goodbye. The departing couple almost bumped into the waitress, who was delivering salads to Jackson and Diamond’s table.
Jackson waited until the waitress had left. “So,” he murmured, running a finger up Diamond’s arm. Her shiver of a response brought a smile. “Do you want to tell your baby what that was all about?”
Her desire for Jackson had pierced through the anger, but Diamond still reached for her purse. “I’m leaving.” Benjamin and Pat had been seated a distance away, but right now Yankee Stadium would have been too small a common room for her and her ex.
Jackson placed a staying hand on Diamond’s arm. “Baby, wait. We’ve not yet eaten.”
“I’ve lost my appetite.”
Chapter 18
After tossing several bills on the table, Jackson rushed after the ball of fire that was his date. “Diamond, wait!”
She increased her stride, not wanting Jackson to see how badly Benjamin’s unexpected news had upset her. When had he gotten married? And how had he done so without her finding out? She reached her car, but when it came to long strides, five foot nine was no match for six foot five. Jackson had gotten there one step ahead of her and now placed his hand on the door.
“Give me your keys,” he demanded.
“Why?” Diamond angrily brushed what she swore was the last tear she’d cry over men from her cheek.
“Because I don’t want you driving upset.” Jackson held out his hand, with a don’t-you-dare-try-me look in his eyes.
“I’m not upset,” she said, cursing another tear that dared to fall. Jackson crossed his arms and leaned against Diamond’s car. After a brief glare down, she gave him the keys. “So now you’re going to drive two cars,” she said with all the dryness of the Mojave Desert. “This I’ve got to see.”
Jackson reached for her hand. “I’ll bring you back to your car later, but right now, you’re coming with me.”
“Where are we going?”
“My place.”
“Uh, I don’t think so.”
“I didn’t ask what you thought. That was a statement, not a question. Now, I can either pick you up or you can walk on your own, but either way you’re not going to be alone right now. You’re coming with me.”
Diamond took Jackson’s hand, and together they walked to his Maserati. She immediately recognized the white BMW beside it. She’d been with Benjamin when he purchased it—two months before she’d pressed him to set a wedding date and he’d flat out refused. And now he was married? Again, the tears threatened, and Diamond realized that Jackson had been right. This was no time for her to be alone.
Jackson’s sports car ate up the distance between the restaurant and his
home. After keying in the code, a large wrought-iron gate opened, and Diamond felt as though she’d been transported to the Mediterranean. Strategically placed lights emphasized the large home’s majesty, its pale-salmon coating a stark contrast to the black night sky. Its various levels and angles were architecturally sophisticated, and the turret at the back of the building added to the mansion’s overall charm.
Diamond, who’d grown up in the lap of luxury and whose ten-thousand-square-foot estate was no small potatoes, was impressed. From what she could see, the grounds were as stunning as the building, but there was more—something indefinable—about Jackson’s surroundings. The place felt like a fortress, no, a sanctuary. That was it. As soon as they’d entered the gates, Diamond felt protected beyond the ordinary. Her shoulders lowered as she visibly relaxed and whispered, “This is amazing.” It seemed as if to speak louder would break some type of magical spell.
Jackson smiled, appreciative of Diamond’s obvious good taste. “Thank you, baby. It’s called Cielo…my little slice of heaven.”
“Heaven…that’s what cielo means?”
Jackson nodded. Following his uncle’s and aunt’s deaths, Jackson had thought of moving into their place, but the memories were too great and painful. So he’d sold their home and all its contents and built the oceanfront dwelling of his dreams from the ground up. It was also during this time that he changed the company name: from Wright Works to Boss Construction.
“It’s beautiful, Jackson.”
Bypassing the five-car garage, Jackson navigated the circular drive until they reached the home’s front door. He turned off the engine, then leaned over and placed a gentle kiss on Diamond’s cheek. “Wait here.”
Diamond watched as he exited the car, curious as to his intentions. She soon found out. Jackson bounded around to her side of the car and opened her door. “M’lady,” he said with a bow.
Diamond smiled, suddenly feeling like a teenybopper on her first date. She held out her hand. “M’lord.”
Jackson kissed her hand before tucking it in the crook of his arm. “Welcome to my home. Mi casa es su casa.”