“Wow!” Diamond said as she looked at the magic Jackson had spoken of and imagined the room packed with happy dancers. She smiled as Jackson bobbed his head and sang in tune to a popular song. Watching the way he moved his hips to the beat, Diamond could well imagine just how exciting it would be to spend a night with him. Would be? Girl, what in the heck are you thinking? There would absolutely, positively be no woulda, shoulda, coulda with this hunkalicious guy standing beside her. Diamond well knew his kind: cocky and arrogant, probably certain that he could get her into his bed. She was certain of that, too, but that was beside the point. Fortunately, she had an iron-clad rule to save her from herself. She never, ever dated anyone in or near the workplace. After a two-month courtship with a former sales manager had ended in a stalker situation with law enforcement involved, she’d vowed to keep her personal and professional lives very separate.
“Now watch how the DJ has the ability to completely change the mood.” Once again, Jackson clicked on the song list. The sounds of a sultry saxophone filled the room, the smooth jazz tune evoking images of lovemaking more than words ever could.
Diamond was convinced she was losing it. How else could she explain the fact that she was now undressing Jackson with her eyes? It was a good thing that his back was to her as he continued to fiddle with the knobs—a good thing because it gave her several uninterrupted seconds to take in his broad shoulders, strong back, narrow waist, perfect butt, strong thighs, long legs and big feet. As she continued to stare at his perfect backside encased in jeans, Diamond could barely remember her name.
She looked up in time to see the room darken; tiny lights resembling twinkling stars filled the ceiling. The air in the room shifted along with the lighting. Diamond felt it and believed that Jackson did, too. Attraction crackled like a burning log between them. And what happened to the air in the room? He turned and looked at her, his gaze penetrating, yet unreadable. Diamond forced herself not to look away, tried to maintain the stare, but again…she couldn’t. Her eyes dropped to those delectable lips that sat under an aquiline nose, just as Jackson flicked out his tongue to moisten them. The sax sizzled from the speakers, wrapping them in a sensual cocoon, a world of their own. It was as if time stopped, along with Diamond’s rational thinking. Because for the life of her she couldn’t think of anything more logical to do than to kiss those lips, to crush the nipples that were even now hardening at the mere thought of being touched against Jackson’s hard chest.
She took a step.
Jackson’s eyes narrowed as he watched her come closer. He looked at her lips, slightly parted with desire. Wanting him was written all over her face. His message was being proclaimed from an area decidedly lower, by a rapidly increasing bulge in the front of his jeans.
He took a step.
They now stood just inches apart, neither moving, barely breathing. At the risk of having to fire himself for insubordination, Jackson reached out and ran a finger along Diamond’s jawline. His touch was more electric than the guitar that now accompanied the sax. She licked her lips and suppressed a shiver. He watched, wondering how they tasted, those lips, wanting to know how she tasted. Her eyes flickered shut and then back open, even as her head tilted seemingly of its own accord. To hell with stalking ex-coworkers and iron-clad declarations. She would be a rule breaker, too. Thoughts of consequences could come later. Right now all she wanted were his lips…on hers…now! He bent his head down. One more step and the kiss would begin. Just one more step…
“There you are!” Taylor said as she entered the room. And right behind her? Donald and Donovan: father and son.
Damn!
Diamond scurried from the intimacy of the DJ booth and Jackson’s captivating eyes, looking as professional as she could with her body on fire. She ignored Donald’s scowl and Donovan’s smirk and tried to remember how to construct a sentence. Subject, verb, noun, Diamond. Subject! Verb! Noun!
Jackson came to her rescue, and in the moment, had he rode in on a white horse, dressed in armor, she couldn’t have been any more grateful. “Mr. Drake, always a pleasure to see you, sir. Donovan, good to see you, man.” They shook hands.
“Good to see you,” Donovan replied, his brow creased in slight confusion.
Jackson knew that further talk with these two men would likely blow his cover. It was time for a quick getaway. “Ms. Drake, it’s been a pleasure,” he said, his tone courteous, formal, making Diamond immediately wish for the rogue. “But I need to head over to the other building. Gentlemen, if you’ll excuse me.”
Forcing herself not to watch the firm, hard butt exiting the building, Diamond turned to her dad and brother. “What are you guys doing here?”
“We were on our way to the cellar and saw Taylor outside. When she said you were here, on the first floor of our masterpiece, we thought we’d join you.”
“Good, because so far what I’ve seen is amazing.” Jackson’s leaving allowed oxygen to once again flow to Diamond’s brain. “Taylor, why don’t you explain to Dad and Donovan what you shared with me earlier, including the fabrics and colors for the spa?” They continued the tour, and Taylor presented a variety of swatches. But in her mind, the only hue Diamond saw was caramel, and the only face was that of Jackson Wright.
Chapter 5
A half hour later, Diamond wheeled her shiny black BMW into its parking space, threw the car in Park and shut off the engine. She hadn’t seen him when they left the site but no matter. Thoughts of Jackson still consumed her. She’d never had her head spun like this, not even when Jamal Pendergrass had kissed her outside the skating rink—her first smooch at the ripe old age of thirteen. What just happened? Diamond didn’t understand. As a woman who prided herself on self-control and was known in the dating world as being “hard to get,” she was less than enthused that she’d almost made a fool of herself in the workplace. As it was, when she saw her father, in general, and Donovan, in particular, she knew she’d have some ’splainin’ to do! Her older brother’s knowing smirk hadn’t gone unnoticed.
Determined to put Jackson and what had happened behind her, she took a deep breath, reached for her purse and headed into the executive offices. She pasted what she hoped was a nonchalant look on her face, took another calming breath—where was the yoga mat when she needed it?—and opened the door to her office.
Kathleen looked at her always cool, calm and collected superior and immediately sensed something amiss. “What’s wrong?”
“Does it look like something’s wrong with me?” Diamond snapped. So much for the calm, nonchalant facade.
“You forget how well I know you,” Kathleen replied, nonplussed. “Plus, I know a tight mouth when I see one. Come on, darlin’. Out with it. Did one of those pieces of man candy get you all hot and bothered?”
Diamond didn’t respond.
Kathleen clapped her hands with glee. “That’s it! Which one? No, don’t tell me, let me guess. Is it that tall, strapping man with the tattoo across his chest?”
The “tall, strapping” description definitely fit Jackson, but Diamond didn’t remember a tattoo. “Step into my office,” she said over her shoulder to Kathleen as she left the common area to enter her more private domain. Maybe talking about this weird attraction would help her get rid of it.
Kathleen hurried behind her, closing Diamond’s office door once they were both inside. Her green eyes glittered as she took a seat in one of the tan
