Diamonds Are For Lovers. Yvonne Lindsay
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Quinn turned his back and walked into his bedroom, smiling when he felt her creeping presence at the door. Opening the panel in the wall that concealed the safe, he began keying the code into a digital keypad. The whole house was burglar and smoke alarmed, including this room and the workroom. The safe was dual combination and key, complete with trembler sensor. His company had the best security money could buy. After all, it was vital in his business.
He glanced to where she fidgeted at the door, chewing on her bottom lip. Quinn miskeyed and the thing beeped at him. He swore softly, ordering himself to stop thinking about whiskey eyes and plump bottom lips. She was on the hook. It was time to reel her in.
He went through the elaborate security measures with exaggerated care, then took out a heavy steel box from which he lifted a hand-stitched leather case after a barrage of additional code numbers. A hydraulic mechanism raised a small velvet-covered platform on which the diamond sat. Reaching out, he flicked the desk lamp on. Then he faced her and tilted his head, giving her permission to come near.
She moved slowly into the room, her eyes on his face. The light from the lamp washed over her skin, and he thought again, as he had earlier on meeting her, that her face was all wrong, a contradiction. Wide-set, wild-honey eyes, a straight no-nonsense nose, and then rosebud lips, suggesting innocence and insecurity.
And just like earlier when he’d first looked at her, the impact jolted him. She’d attempted to tame her wildfire hair with a scarf, but still, dark red curls sprang up in interesting dimensions. Her colour sense was outrageous, combining a red-and-pink-striped top with a captivatingly short floral skirt. She was exotic, unconventional, bubbling over with life and energy. He knew more beautiful women, but none so colourful, so vibrantly original.
She looked down at the diamond on display for her, her eyes glowing. When she finally looked back at Quinn, the gratitude in her eyes stunned him. She would know well how few people had ever been given the opportunity to look upon this treasure.
Enjoy it, he thought grimly. If it were down to him, he wouldn’t have Danielle Hammond within one hundred metres of this baby, no matter how interesting her face.
She put out her hand. It hovered over the glow and she hesitated. “May I?”
Half of him wondered what the diamond would look like against her skin, her hair. The other half protested, Get the hell away from this diamond! But he had his orders. He nodded tersely.
Her slim hand dipped and the middle finger stroked lightly, reverently over the crown of the perfect octahedron. Then she took her hands away, crossed them in front of her body and just looked down at the stone, as if giving thanks to a god. Her lashes made shadows on her cheek.
“Do we have a deal, Ms. Hammond?” he asked quietly, reluctant to interrupt what was obviously an awe-inspiring moment for her. As it had been for him when he had procured this very special diamond for his client six years ago.
“I have a choice?” she murmured.
He knew she didn’t. No jeweller in her right mind would say no to this opportunity.
She continued, “Since you’re blackmailing me …”
Quinn smiled at her nice recovery. “Of course I am.” He knew that she would crawl over broken glass to get her hands on this stone, blackmail or not. Money or not.
He perched on the edge of the desk. “The conditions are these—you stay here in the house for the duration of the work. You work on it day and night if possible. You tell no one about this stone.”
She sucked in a breath. “I have a life, you know.”
“No, you don’t.” He shook his head decisively. “Not for the next few weeks.”
“And my shop?”
Quinn had initiated a decent conversation with the young hippie called Steve in her little shop this morning. “Your assistant needs more hours. His partner is pregnant. They’re struggling financially.”
Dani frowned. “You found all that out in a couple of minutes?”
“I did not draw your name out of a hat, Ms. Hammond,” he said sharply. While he couldn’t blame her for being surprised, his reputation alone should have swayed her. Put that together with one of the most incredible stones the world had ever seen and it was unfathomable that he was still trying to persuade her.
“What sort of setting?”
Quinn shrugged. “You’re the designer.”
“I mean,” she sighed, “pendant? Brooch? What type of piece? I didn’t see any cutting gear.”
He drew himself up to full height. “You will not touch this stone with anything but your fingers, do you hear?”
Danielle Hammond rolled her eyes at him. “Of course not, but I may use other gems.” She eyed him speculatively. “You are supplying findings? Platinum, diamonds, the whole deal?”
“As long as you keep the stone whole, you have carte blanche to design whatever you like. I will need to approve a model and a list of your requirements.”
“This could take weeks….”
“You have three, less is preferable. The accommodation is acceptable?”
She nodded.
“I will feed you. Everything you need for the job is there. All you need to do is tap into your talent and work.”
“Who’s it for?”
Quinn opened his mouth, staring at her face. “A friend,” he said shortly. “A special friend.”
Dani nodded, and he could almost hear her mind ticking over. That was his brief; she was not to know who commissioned the piece. No harm letting her think there was a special lady friend. “Do we have a deal?”
She exhaled noisily and stared down at the diamond as if for reassurance.
Just to play with her longing, he closed the lid—slowly.
“I want half the money up front,” she said, “and throw in Steve’s wages.”
He scowled. “How very Blackstone of you.” Her family connections were his main objection to the deal. Quinn had no time for anyone bearing the Blackstone stamp and was sorely tempted to delegate this job to one of his staff. But it was a sensitive matter, one which he’d reluctantly agreed to handle personally.
He picked the box up off the desk, noting with pleasure the regret and loss in her eyes as she watched him put it away.
“This is going to be a barrel of laughs,” Dani muttered from behind his back.
“The sooner you get on with it, the quicker we can go our separate ways.” He banged the safe door closed. “I’ll take you home to pack and make arrangements.”
When he turned back to her, she was rubbing the side of her long pale neck, eyes closed, her head rolled back. Quinn teetered on the edge of a rogue wave of desire so intense that it stopped him dead in his tracks. Behind her, not two feet