The Diamond Affair Page 2

  She slid into the booth seat, her back to the wall so she could see everyone.

  "No, you sit here." Jake held out the chair opposite. "That's my seat."

  Her temper flared, heating her face, but she managed to keep it under control. "Why?"

  "Because you're paying me to help you and I can't do my job with my back to the room."

  Her anger evaporated, relief taking its place. He was going to take her on as a client. Thank God for that. She gave up the seat readily. "So you're happy to help me out?" she asked when re-seated.

  "Happy is not a word I'd use in this situation." Jake's gaze flicked around the room then settled back on her. Unblinking. Penetrating. "I'm only doing this as a favor to Matt. No discounts. Understand?"

  She resisted the urge to salute. Somehow she didn't think Jake Forrester would find that funny. "Business must be booming if you're not taking on new clients."

  "Business is moving. To Sydney. I'm winding down operations here in Melbourne for a while. I should have been gone by this weekend."

  Now, because of her, he would have to stay longer. "Sorry." She cradled her glass, twisting it between her hands. "If there was anyone else I could trust I'd go to them. And I mean anyone."

  Unexpectedly, one side of his mouth lifted in a half-smile. That simple twitch transformed him from scary to handsome in a heartbeat. If he didn't scowl so much he'd be gorgeous. Too bad the smile vanished just as fast as it had appeared.

  "So you're stuck with me thanks to your brother."

  "And you're stuck with me."

  His expression darkened. "Hopefully not for long."

  Her sentiments exactly.

  She told him about Fat Frankie's attack and how he'd followed her home, then when he asked her why, she told him about the Florentine diamond and Guy Beauvoir.

  "He contacted me yesterday saying he wanted to buy some of my jewelry, but that turned out to be a ruse. When I arrived at his office building, he whisked me into his private rooms and showed me something...amazing," she said on a breath.

  "The diamond?"

  "The Florentine, yes."

  "He stole it?"

  She shrugged. "Maybe. But most likely he bought it on the black market."

  His scowl deepened. "So what's so special about it that he wanted you to check it out?"

  "It's the world's most magnificent and most mysterious diamond. It was once owned by the Medicis and then European royalty but went missing in 1918 when the Hapsburg Empire collapsed. It was rumored to have been taken by the Nazis during World War Two and presumably sold on the black market some time after that. It's incredible that it's turned up after all these years in Australia." She sighed. "It was truly beautiful. Everything I had imagined it to be. More." She lifted her hand, palm up, still able to feel the weight of the diamond. All 137 carats of it. "To hold it was a dream come true for me."

  "Okay, it's valuable, I get it. But why did he ask you to authenticate it and not one of the other thousands of jewelers in the city?"

  "I'm a gemologist as well as a jeweler and I'm the only Australian expert on the world's famous lost diamonds. This country is not exactly a haven for the diamond black market so there's very few people who specialize in gems of such value or infamy here. Not that I'm in the loop regarding black market gems," she added quickly.

  He raised a single eyebrow but said nothing.

  She felt compelled to add more. "Studying the lost gems has been a hobby of mine from childhood. Instead of reading me bedtime stories, Dad used to tell me about gems like the Florentine. I loved it. Their mystery, their romance...everything about them. Over the years my passion grew stronger and I collected every piece of information I could find on the diamonds, rubies and other stones thought lost to the world. I was fairly sure the Florentine was still somewhere in Europe based on my research and rumors."

  She'd been staring into her glass, recalling the Florentine's brilliant sparkle beneath the lamp in Beauvoir's office, and when she looked up, she found Jake watching her intently behind hooded eyes. He lifted his shoulders as if shrugging off an irritable thought.

  "I take it you clarified for him that he had in fact purchased the Florentine?" he asked.

  "Yes. But..."

  "Oh great. A but. There's always a but."

  "Hey, if you want to be childish about this—"

  He held up his hands. "Just tell me."

  Another command. Boy, he had arrogance in abundance if he expected her to obey him all the time. She was not the sort of woman who liked being ordered around.

  For now, she needed him more than he needed her business so she would bite back her retorts. But not forever.

  "To be completely certain it was the Florentine," she said, "I'd need to take it to a specialized workshop, do some tests and take a closer look. When I suggested it to Beauvoir he refused. He didn't want to let it out of his sight."

  Jake grunted a laugh as if she'd said something funny, or stupid. "And now Beauvoir thinks you stole it from him."

  She slouched back in her chair, suddenly feeling like a deflated ball with all the breath and energy gone from her body. "Yeah."

  "He's not a man to get off-side."

  "Thanks, Sherlock. If I didn't get that before I certainly get it now."

  He didn't rise to her snarkiness. He sat with his arms crossed on the table before him, his body relaxed. If it wasn't for his gaze constantly flicking between her and the other bar patrons, he could have been mistaken for someone who didn't give a damn about her predicament. She wasn't sure if that was reassuring or not.

  "So did you steal it from him?" he said.

  "No! I can't believe you have to ask me that!"

  "Why? You could be a master thief for all I know."

  "You know Matt."

  He grunted. "Just because you're related doesn't mean you've got similar principles." His body had been very still but suddenly he started fidgeting with his glass and shifting in his seat. It was as if all his energy had been contained for too long and needed release. "Blood relatives can be as different as...you and I."

  "I didn't steal the Florentine. You have my word and at this point my word is all I can offer. It'll have to be enough."

  He shrugged and with that movement, he became still again, relaxed but watchful. "It doesn't matter. You're paying me to do a job. Whether you're innocent or not, it makes no difference. I just like to know everything up front. No surprises. Got it?"

  Instead of answering him, she said, "Not a great believer in ethics then." She couldn't keep the sneer out of her voice.

  "If you've seen what I've seen, done what I've done, you'd know that ethics don't mean a damn thing. Now, the only reason I'm asking is because we need to find out who really stole it. Then we can hand the thief over to Beauvoir and you'll be off his hit list."

  "You make it sound so easy."

  He stood abruptly. "Let's go," he said and walked off.

  "Where to?" Ruby followed him, trying to keep up with his long strides.

  "Check you into a hotel. We can talk some more on the way."

  "Right. A hotel. Good." She couldn't go home. Fat Frankie or one of his off-siders would be waiting for her there. But staying at a hotel didn't seem like the safest option either.

  Jake held the door open for her and she slipped past him. She breathed deeply to draw the warm evening air into her lungs and inadvertently caught the scent of him. The combination of subtle cologne blended with raw masculinity caught her off guard. She breathed in again and looked up at him, at the skin beneath his ear where he would have splashed on that cologne before coming to meet her.

  "What?" He glared at her, breaking the spell.

  She tried to think what she'd been going to say before his smell—his smell for crying out loud!—made her forget. "You said check me into a hotel. What about you? Where will you be?"

  "Home."

  Snug in bed sleeping like a baby, no doubt. Or a giant in Jake's case. Now that she stood be
side him, she realized how big he was. She only came up to the middle of his chest. "How will you protect me from there?"

  "You won't need protecting because Beauvoir and his men won't be able to find you. You'll use an assumed name, pay with cash and won't talk to anyone. Got that?"

  It all sounded completely logical. But still... "I'm paying you to protect me as of now, not starting tomorrow morning. I'll feel much safer if you're sleeping in the next room rather than...wherever the hell your cave is."

  "My cave is just around the corner from the hotel. You have my number. Feel free to call me if you get nightmares."

  She was pretty sure that was his attempt at a joke. "It's not the nightmares I'm worried about."

  They'd stopped at her car, or rather Evie's car. Jake placed his hands on her shoulders and her heart leapt a notch. The man had a presence that affected her, that was for sure. But she couldn't work out whether that presence was a scary one or something else, something baser.

  "You'll be fine," he said calmly. "Don't worry. I won't let anything happen to you. Matt would kill me if I did." By the light of the street lamp she could see a ghost of a smile.

  "Then take the room next to mine," she pleaded. "I'm paying remember."

  He removed his hands to run them through his hair and her heartbeat returned to normal instead of trying to break out of her ribcage. Good thing too because she needed her wits about her right now and she couldn't stay focused if her body parts went crazy when he got too close.

  "Please," she whispered. When he looked away, breathing heavily, she knew she had to say more to sway him. He was close but not quite there yet. "I'm scared, Jake. I just need to know that you're not far away. Otherwise I might as well sit in the car all night because I won't be getting any sleep anyway and it'll be cheaper." The scared little sister act had always worked on Matt whenever she wanted him to pick her up from the train station at night. It seemed the same act appealed to other he-men too because Jake swore again and she knew he was close to giving in. Good to know which tactics worked.

  "All right," he finally said. "You might as well come home with me."

  She chewed on her lip to stop her relieved smile. Somehow she didn't think he would appreciate it. "Not the hotel?"

  "If you insist on me being in the next room then we might as well stay somewhere the coffee's going to be drinkable in the morning. This your car?" He nodded at Evie's rust bucket.

  "A friend's. I borrowed it when I saw Frankie trawling through mine."

  He nodded. "Good. Leave it here."

  "Why?"

  "Parking's bad at my place."

  She followed him to an SUV—black of course—and they drove to the inner-city Docklands area. Jake parked in the basement parking lot of one of the apartment towers rising above the restaurants and bars. Why he hadn't chosen to meet her in one of them instead of O'Brian's was a mystery.

  They took the elevator to the twenty-first floor and he carried her overnight bag to his apartment. When he switched on the lights, her jaw dropped.

  "Wow, what a view!" One entire wall was all glass and looked out to the twinkling lights of the city beyond. She moved closer for a better look.

  "It's not bad," he said, standing so close behind her she jumped.

  "It beats the view from my place. The neighbor's brick wall gets a little boring after a while."

  "You could move in here after I move out. I can put a good word in with the landlord if you like. These places go fast but I'm pretty sure he'll hold it."

  "You don't own this?"

  He crossed the room to a heap of boxes stacked to one side of the lounge room. He was packing, she remembered, which also explained the bare bookshelves and walls.

  "No, a friend does." He pulled out a pocket knife from his back pocket, flipped it open and stuck the blade into the tape sealing one of the boxes. "He's contracted to do security in Iraq for another year. I'm sure he'll let Matt's little sister stay."

  So another SAS mate. "Does he owe my brother a favor too?"

  He pulled out a set of linen from the box. "Not that I know of."

  "Then he's not likely to give me a discount and I can't afford this place without one." The apartment looked new with a modern kitchen and freshly painted walls. She bet the toilet didn't leak and the floorboards didn't groan either.

  He picked up her bag from where he'd left near the front door. "The second bedroom has a double bed. You can sleep in there."

  She followed him into the bedroom and together they made up the bed. He tossed her a towel as well. "Bathroom's next door."

  "Thanks. I think I'll take a shower."

  "Oh, and Ruby? My room's on the other side of the lounge." He gave her his sardonic look. "In case you have nightmares."

  Smartass.

  "We'll talk in the morning," he said. "Get some sleep tonight."

  He left and she went into the bathroom to take a shower. The warm water massaged her shoulders and back, easing some of the tension but nowhere near all of it. She pressed her forehead against the cool wall tiles and closed her eyes. How could this happen to her? She'd never done anyone wrong, always paid her bills on time and swore only when really pushed. It wasn't fair. Girls like her shouldn't be at the top of a dangerous megalomaniac's hit list. She wasn't equipped to be held at gunpoint by emotionless thugs.

  But Jake Forrester was. And she would give him every last cent in her bank account if that's what it took to keep him at her side until this was over.

  CHAPTER 3

  "Who else could have taken it?" Jake asked.

  Ruby spread butter over her toast, right up into the corners, then picked it up to take a bite only to stop before the toast got to her mouth. "Fat Frankie said it was stolen en route to Beauvoir's house. So anyone who knew that's where it was headed would be my bet." She took a large bite and shrugged. "Could be anybody," she said after swallowing.

  He sipped his coffee and leaned back in the chair to study her. She sat opposite him at his small kitchen table, looking a little bleary from a restless sleep. He'd heard her tossing and turning half the night before he finally fell asleep himself. She must be worried. No, make that scared. She wouldn't have called him if she had any other options. Knowing her brother the way he did, Matt would have made sure she knew Jake was absolutely the last resort.

  As he recalled, Matt adored her. Their parents had died a few years back and he'd been parent to her as well as big brother. No way would he want her anywhere near someone like Jake for fear of...well, the obvious. Matt had never introduced her to any of his unit mates in between his tours because he'd never thought any of them good enough for her. He'd said so, in a joking way of course, many times. And Jake knew Matt directed most of that concern his way. Serial daters and little sisters were a bad combination all round. Jake respected that.

  Although seeing her get butter over her chin, he didn't understand what all the fuss was about. Sure, she was cute and had a great body—hell, it was hard not to miss the body in those skimpy PJs—but she wasn't a beauty. He'd dumped better looking women than her. At least she wouldn't provide a distraction beyond the mission. He couldn't delay leaving Melbourne any longer than necessary.

  He looked over at the boxes, all sealed and ready for the removal company to take on Friday, a little over thirty-two hours away. He'd have to postpone them till next week. This wasn't a simple job. Damn it.

  "If we leave out Fat Frankie himself," he said, "and the guys who drove the Florentine—"

  "Why leave them out?"

  "Because they're all still in town. You've seen Frankie and the others must be here or Beauvoir would have suspected them first and you wouldn't be a target. So the question is, who else knew about the Florentine's transit?"

  "Who else knew about the Florentine at all?" She sat back and studied the mug of coffee she held in both hands. "As far as I know, I was the only gemologist he showed it to. So unless Beauvoir told someone else about it, the only other person who knew he ha
d it would be the person he bought it from."

  It would be next to impossible to find out who that had been. Jake's contacts didn't extend to the international black market for gems. "What about you? Did you tell anyone?"

  "No!" Her bright blue eyes flashed but the anger quickly vanished and she lowered her gaze to her mug again. "Well, I did tell Aaron."

  "Your boyfriend?"

  "Hardly. He's gay. He's also my assistant and I trust him completely. No way would he have stolen it. No way could he. He's just too...nice."

  Jake resisted the instinct to roll his eyes. Man, she was so naïve. It was a wonder she hadn't been taken for a ride already. It was also a wonder Matt hadn't given her a talking to about trusting people too much.

  "Nice people have been known on occasion to do bad things," he said. "And stupid things. This would fall into both categories."

  There was that eye-flashing again. Her dark blues could burn holes into a man's skull if he didn't keep out of the way.

  "Aaron did not steal it. He's never so much as slipped a cubic zirconia into his pocket. That's a fake diamond if you didn't know."

  "I knew."

  She lifted one shoulder and the flimsy strap of her pajama top slipped down revealing the plump rise of one breast. He wondered what the skin there would feel like, taste like.

  "You going to eat that?" she said.

  "Yes." He shook his head to dislodge the image of a naked Ruby. "I mean no." She reached for the piece of toast on his plate but he caught her hand. "On second thoughts, I think I will."

  "That's your third piece. You must be hungry."

  She had no idea. Felt like forever since he'd tasted...toast.

  She withdrew her hand and picked up her coffee mug again. "So what's the plan?"

  "We speak to Aaron."

  "I just told you, he didn't do it."

  "And you're paying me to do a job. Let me do it. We check out Aaron before we dismiss him as a suspect."

  "Fine." She stood. "I'll go get dressed before you decide you need another piece of...toast." She tossed a sly grin at him over her shoulder that said gotcha.