Diamonds Are For Lovers: Satin & a Scandalous Affair

“I heard you,” she said in a small voice. “Last night at the restaurant. Talking about selling your shares in Blackstone.”

Quinn’s eyes narrowed in the dim room. Scratch all those nice thoughts about waking up with the same woman. He didn’t know whether to laugh or be offended. Who the hell did she think she was? “Eavesdropping, Danielle? If you heard us, you’d know I turned him down.”

She lifted her head and looked him right in the face. And it hit him: she was serious.

The urge to laugh disappeared. “A company takeover,” he said, twisting his finger around a springy red curl, “is very complicated. It needs the support of the board and the requisite number of shares. I’m Little League in Blackstones, Dani.”

That was the truth. He had very few shares himself. But he knew Matt was in for more than the Blackstones knew about—and climbing. And Quinn knew who else had a substantial portfolio.

“But if Jake Vance asks you to sell …?”

Quinn stilled. She had heard everything. And she was right out of line. He was not in the habit of justifying himself to anyone, let alone a woman he’d known for a week or so, even if the sex was amazing.

He injected plenty of cool in his reply. “Yes, if he gave me a good enough reason, then I’d sell.”

Disappointment darkened her eyes, and just the fact that he recognised that pissed him off. There was no room for emotion in business. That was the dictum that Jake Vance, corporate raider, believed in, and Quinn agreed wholeheartedly, damn it!

“Quinn, what hurts the Blackstones hurts me, you do get that, don’t you?”

Time to remind both of them this was just a fling. “Just because we’re sleeping together, Danielle,” he said coldly, “doesn’t give you the right to ask about my business dealings.”

She flinched. He knew that because he felt it in his chest and stomach, which lay under her torso, in between his legs where she’d squeezed her thigh, over his shoulder where she’d draped one of her arms.

But he held her gaze. He wouldn’t negotiate on overstepping boundaries. After a long moment, he nudged her, indicating he wanted to get up. She moved over to her side of the bed. When the hell did they get into his-and-her sides of the bed anyway?

His refection stared balefully back in the bathroom mirror while he wondered what had suddenly happened, what had changed. One minute, he was savouring the delights of a very sexy body. The next, he was wallowing in guilt, thinking about someone else, considering someone else’s feelings. Just how deep was he getting here?

Somewhere out on that boat, she’d stirred up some long-buried need to protect. His parents, his childhood home had always been a port in a storm, a harbour for lost and needy souls. Quinn had forgotten what it felt like, until now. Was that what Danielle saw in him? Was she searching for such a port?

He ran the tap and splashed his face, making sure it was good and cold.

This was supposed to be a brief fling, a bit of fun to while away the heat of the day while he was stuck up here in the middle of nowhere. Wanting her every minute of the day in the limited time they had together was acceptable. Thinking about waking up to her every morning was probably teetering on the edge and would have to be addressed—and soon. It had been years since he’d considered relationships and he was perfectly happy with his life just as it was.

But justifying himself to her was definitely off limits.

Steve called at breakfast to ask if Dani could mind the shop for a few hours; he and his partner had an ultrasound to attend. Quinn went into town with her. She was quiet but not snippy, and he had some ideas for marketing he’d been thinking about. He pushed aside the feeling that giving her some decent advice may assuage his guilt somewhat.

“What are you doing here, Dani?” he asked, after a customer walked out with a very nice pair of pearl earrings that she’d gotten for a bargain, he noticed.

Dani looked up from locking the cabinet. “Making a living. Just.”

Quinn paced out the tiny interior. The display was funky without being crafty; the quality of her jewellery was too high for that. But the premises were second-rate, security was inadequate and the whole place needed a complete overhaul. “Is it success or failure you’re afraid of?”

Dani ran her eye slowly around the shop. “It could use some attention, I know.”

“How did you end up here, anyway? Why Port?”

She scratched her neck and shrugged. “It’s where I stopped.” She picked up a cloth and bottle of glass cleaner and walked out from behind the counter. Today she was almost conservative in below-the-knee tights, high-heeled sandals, a mushroom-coloured tunic with voluminous sleeves and a huge orange silk rose pinned to her lapel.

Why he always noticed her attire was beyond him. He questioned her again. “What were you running from?”

Dani walked to the display cabinet on the other side of the shop and turned her back on him. He heard the hiss of the spray cleaner, saw the sleeves of her creamy shirt rippling as she rubbed and polished. “I was engaged.”

As soon as she said it, he remembered a couple of sketchy details. Actually, what he remembered was watching it on a TV news programme and wondering how it qualified as news.

“I was engaged to someone who was convinced, even though I denied it repeatedly, that I was Howard’s daughter and, therefore, a Blackstone heiress.”

She moved around the cabinet, rubbing intently, but didn’t look at him.

“I remember,” Quinn murmured, noticing two distinct spots of colour on her cheeks.

“You remember the scandal.”

She did look at him then and he saw that it wasn’t so much pain setting her mouth into a thin line and colouring her cheeks. It was embarrassment.

“The media had a field day.” She gave a tight laugh. “There were some really funny headlines. I would have laughed myself if …” Her eyes slid away and she moved to another glass-topped cabinet. “Do you know, he even demanded his ring back, until Ryan paid him a visit on Howard’s orders.”

Quinn exhaled. “I’d say you had a lucky escape.”

She rolled her eyes and the smile she had forced disappeared. “I just got tired of it. I’m either the illegitimate love child, the scheming gold digger or the poor stupid fool whose fiancé got caught with his pants down. Just one more brush to tar me with.”

She fell silent and continued to rub vigorously at some imaginary mark.

“Why here?”

She raised her shoulders. “I love the beach and the climate. It’s far enough from Sydney that most people don’t even know I’m related to the Blackstones.” She glanced at him briefly and grinned. “And I’ll admit to a bit of poetic license. The population is pretty transient here. I can be whoever and whatever I want.”

Images of a wan face, tamed hair and indeterminate clothing flitted through his mind. He’d seen her featured several times in newspaper spreads or television reports. But he’d never noticed her beauty, her animated smile and sparkle, until he’d met her up here. Now he found himself consciously holding his breath when he heard her come downstairs in the mornings, wondering what jaw-dropping mishmash of colours and textures she would amaze him with today.

Quinn put his hand out. “Come here.”

He led her outside and then turned her and gestured to the faded lettering above the door. “What does that say?”

“Dani Hammond. Fine Jeweller of Port Douglas.”

“Fine Jeweller,” he repeated. “We both know how much study and work experience it takes to be able to put those two words after your name.”

He put his hands on her shoulders and turned her to face him. “Is this what you envisaged while you were putting in the work?”

Her head dropped a little. “Not really.”

“What did you see?”

“What does anyone see just starting out? I wanted to be the best.”

“Didn’t you want important people to come to you, celebrities and royalty and private collectors?” he asked.

She pursed her lips. “I suppose …”