Marrying the Enemy. Nicola Marsh
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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