Diamonds Are For Lovers. Yvonne Lindsay
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Three
“Fine by me!”
Dani slammed the door on his retort and stomped up the stairs, muttering to herself.
Granted, Howard Blackstone had been no angel. His abrasive nature combined with immense wealth was the perfect enemy magnet, but that aside, he had provided a good life for her and her mother. Sonya and Dani Hammond were two of the very few people in this world who truly mourned him.
She opened the workroom door and banged that, too. Bloody man!
Sonya had moved in with Howard and her sister, Ursula, when she was twelve years old. After their firstborn was abducted, Ursula became depressed and took her own life. Howard was inconsolable so Sonya stayed on to look after her niece Kimberley and nephew Ryan. When she became pregnant, Howard persuaded her to remain and bring up her child with all the advantages his own children enjoyed. He paid for Dani’s education, and over the years, they’d forged quite an affectionate bond. Sometimes she thought he liked her better than he did his own children.
Her mother had refuted that. “He loves Kim and Ryan fiercely. He enjoys your company because he has hopes for you rather than expectations of you.”
People didn’t know the real Howard, Dani thought belligerently, tearing off her latest mishmash of a sketch. His faults were legion, but she and Sonya saw a side of him he didn’t show to many. They would always be grateful.
By unspoken mutual consent, Dani and Quinn avoided each other the next day. She needed to pinpoint a design, but every time she looked at the diamond, her ideas changed. She held it up to the light, admiring the purity, depth and distribution of colour throughout. There was a cynical old saying popular in her trade: a polished diamond is only rough ruined. How she wished to have seen this beauty before it was cut.
Dozens of pages littered the floor under the sketch pad as she pared back the initial outpouring of inspiration into a few shapes vaguely resembling a setting she might be able to work with. About the only thing she knew for sure was that the setting would be platinum because it complemented a diamond’s finest qualities so perfectly, especially fancy pinks and yellows. Dani intended the stone to be the star, not the setting.
As the hours passed, ideas rushed through her mind, most disappearing a few seconds after their arrival. She played around on the software Quinn had provided, but the solution eluded her and the beautiful diamond taunted her on its velvet pillow. Finally she took it from the display box and slid down to the floor with it in her hand, loving the milky coolness of it in her palm.
Quinn walked into the room with a plate in one hand and utensils and a wineglass in the other. He stared at her incredulously for a moment, then turned to set his load on the desk. Dani pressed back against the leg of the workbench, suddenly wondering what her hair looked like. Had she showered today or not …?
She gazed at him, thinking how seriously appealing he was. He wore pleated charcoal chinos and a light polo shirt that accentuated the breadth of his shoulders and had her peeking at his strongly muscled arms. Boat shoes, no socks. His platinum Rolex flashed as he leaned forward to switch a lamp on.
“What are you doing?” he asked, staring down at her sternly.
“Thinking. What’s it look like?”
After a pause, he nodded at the food he’d brought. “Eat.”
“What time is it?” She raised her head to peer out the window. It was dark. Where had the day gone?
“Eight.” He frowned at the sight of the uneaten sub he had brought up at lunch, the cold cup of coffee beside it.
Still holding the diamond, she uncrossed her legs and rose, drawn by the smell of the food. A twinge in her stomach reminded her she’d had little to eat today, if anything. She replaced the diamond in its box and reached for the wineglass first.
“How’s it going?”
The wine was smooth. She swallowed and opened her mouth to answer but was hijacked by a huge yawn. “‘Kay.”
It wasn’t okay yet, it was driving her nuts. Inspiration never came easy. She could spend hours or even days on an idea and toss it because of a niggling suspicion she had seen it somewhere. Originality was paramount.
His large shoe ventured out to drag a ball of screwed-up paper toward him. “What time did you work till last night?”
She shrugged, still smouldering a little from their altercation the night before. It would be better if he’d just leave her alone with her thoughts and her food.
“Eating and sleeping will be tolerated on an occasional basis.”
Had he made a joke? Emboldened, she moved closer to the food he’d brought, suddenly ravenous. “Thanks.” The wine had cleansed her palate and spiced her appetite, and she sniffed appreciatively.
“Is there a problem with your setting?” He bent to pick up the ball of paper by his shoe.
“No.” Dani picked up the fork and stabbed at a floret of bright green broccoli. “I haven’t nailed it yet, but don’t worry. I will.”
Quinn tossed the ball of paper into the trash bin. Then he moved to the easel and tilted his head at the latest sketch, one she hadn’t torn off yet. “Have the graphics I supplied been any help?”
Dani shook her head and cut into tender lamb drizzled with a sauce that tasted of paprika. Software was great for learning on, but most designers she knew preferred to work freestyle.
He moved to the desk where she sat and laid his hand on her portfolio. “May I?”
Dani stilled mid-chew. His past comments about her work still rankled. Yet here she was, staying in luxury accommodations, being catered for to her heart’s desire. Awaiting the payment of a colossal sum of money, and all for the privilege of working on an incredible diamond.
She shrugged. Whatever he thought of her stuff, he’d paid her an enormous compliment by commissioning her. Quinn Everard, the great Australian gem expert, wanted her to design for him. Not Cartier. Not JAR. Dani Hammond.
Quinn flicked the desk lamp on and stood, one hand in his pocket, the other leisurely turning the pages of the big black binder. He studied each page intently, unmoving except for his lashes dipping and rising as his eyes moved over the page. She watched under the guise of chewing and swallowing.
His shirt clung to the contours of his chest and hinted at an impressive-looking abdominal ridge or two. Fine dark hair sprinkled his forearms. The harsh light of the lamp picked out definite traces of silver in his sideburns. Mid-thirties, she guessed, with plenty of exercise to keep him toned and strong.
She tore her eyes away before he caught her, suddenly feeling way too warm. Quinn was too big for this room, too enticing and wickedly attractive.
His deep brown eyes were suddenly on her face. “These are good.”
She hadn’t realised she was holding her breath, but now it suddenly left her in a rush. “Oh. Thanks.”
“You have improved, matured.”
Improved?