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 of 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
