The Diamond Affair Page 8

  "I'm fine. Fat Frankie's a little sore though." She gave him a guarded smile.

  He touched her cheek, his face darkening. "What happened?"

  She briefed him on her trip into the country leaving out a few details.

  "Christ," he muttered when she finished. "I'm sorry."

  "It's not your fault. None of this is your fault."

  "I shouldn't have left you—"

  "If you're going to beat yourself up over this, then I'm going to fire you. You can turn around and walk right out that door now."

  His hand dropped to his side. "I will, but you're coming with me. It won't take long for Beauvoir and Frankie to come sniffing around."

  He was right. The sooner they got away the better. Ruby thanked Evie and hugged her. "You be careful," her friend said.

  "I'll call you when this is all over," Ruby said. "Hopefully soon." But she doubted the truth of her words. Without the Florentine, and with no clue as to who really had it, she couldn't see Beauvoir letting up on the chase.

  The hopelessness of the situation weighed her down. She followed Jake out to Damien's car, a bag of clothes she and Evie had packed while they waited for him in his hand. They climbed into the sedan and sped off.

  Ruby settled into the seat and stretched out her legs. It had been one hell of a long night and she could barely keep her eyes open. She could only imagine how Jake must feel after being in an accident as well.

  She looked at him. He watched the road ahead with an intensity she'd come to know. White knuckles gripped the wheel and his mouth had settled into a firm, grim line. The weight of their predicament must be pressing down on him too. She wanted to reach over and rub the back of his neck, ease away some of the tension in him. But she didn't dare, not while he was driving.

  "Where are we going?" she asked.

  "A mate has a beachfront house in Brighton. He's currently in Afghanistan with Matt so it's vacant. He's not married so he's happy to loan it out to anyone who wants it while he's overseas. We'll hole up there until we decide on our next move."

  "Brighton? That's a bit expensive for an SAS operative, isn't it?"

  "He came from a rich family. When his parents died he took over the place but he's rarely there." One side of his mouth quirked up. "He says any of his mates are welcome to use it as a bachelor pad."

  "To impress the girls with the location?" She snorted. "I hardly think you need to resort to those measures."

  "My view is okay?"

  "Your view is better than okay." She smiled at him but he was watching the road and didn't see.

  "Hopefully no one's using it tonight."

  "Hopefully." She didn't want to embroil anyone else in her mess.

  The mate must be loaded. Located in one of Melbourne's prestige suburbs, the massive house had spectacular views across Port Phillip Bay. Dawn turned the sky a dusty rose and the water became a sleek, glassy surface in the windless morning. It would have been magical if Ruby wasn't so tired.

  Jake found the key where he expected it to be buried inside a potted plant out back and punched in a code to disarm the alarm. After a quick tour of the house, he left her alone in the bathroom. While the bath filled up, she rummaged through her bag for shampoo, conditioner and clean clothes.

  Half an hour later she emerged from a soothing spa bath, ready to climb into a bed and sleep the day away. Until she saw Jake.

  He lay on a long couch on his back, his arms crossed over his bare chest. Dark blue-black bruises covered nearly every inch of his upper body. No wonder he'd winced when she hugged him at Evie's. He must be in a lot of pain.

  She went to touch a bruise on his collar bone but checked herself. She didn't want to wake him. He must have had a shower in another bathroom because his hair was damp and he wore a different pair of jeans to the ones he'd had on when they arrived. He hadn't carried in a bag, so he must have raided the house owner's wardrobe.

  "Feel better?" he murmured without opening his eyes.

  So much for not waking him. "A little. You?"

  "Much. But I think we'll both feel better once we have a few hours sleep."

  "More than a few." She nodded at the line of stitches on his forehead. "It looks sore. What did they say at the hospital?"

  "That I should've been wearing a seatbelt."

  "It could have been a lot worse." She chewed her bottom lip to stop it wobbling. Thinking about how bad it could have been sent icy shivers creeping down her spine.

  "But it wasn't. Don't worry about me, Ruby, I can take care of myself."

  She traced her finger around the darkest bruise on his shoulder. He twitched at the touch but didn't shift away. "Not very well, obviously." She got up and headed back to the bathroom. She'd seen some bruise cream in the cupboard earlier and pulled it out. "I'll rub this on," she said, returning to the lounge room.

  He sat up and frowned. "I told you not to worry about me."

  She gently pushed him back again. "Let me do this. Please. It's the least I can do for all the trouble I've caused."

  "You're no trouble."

  She cocked her head to the side and raised an eyebrow.

  "Okay," he said, "you are trouble." He settled into the couch and eyed the jar suspiciously. "I've never heard of bruise cream before."

  "Luckily your friend has. Let me rub it—"

  "I'll do it."

  She held the jar up high and shook her head. He could have easily reached up and grabbed it but didn't. "Just lie there and be quiet. Let someone else do the work for once." When he looked like he was about to protest again, she added, "Please let me do this for you."

  He relented with a curt nod.

  She had every intention of being the nursemaid and tending to his bruises in a professional manner, but as soon as she touched him all good intentions flew out the window. His skin felt cool from the shower and surprisingly smooth. It amazed her how silky it was, so at odds with the hard angles and equally hard attitude of the man himself.

  She drew in a deep breath to curb her desire. Beyond the perfume of the bruise cream, she could smell the soap he'd used and the unmistakable scent of man. Mmmm, delicious. So much for curbing anything.

  She couldn't get enough of touching him. The undulating chest muscles were covered with dark bruises and a scattering of springy black hair, arrowing down to the low waist band of his jeans. Was he bruised down there too? Maybe she should check.

  But she lost her nerve and continued to circle the bruises she could see. A small tremor rippled through his body and his eyelids fluttered shut. A groan sounded deep within him.

  She settled herself on the couch beside him and concentrated on each bruise, slathering them one by one in the cream. Rubbing, massaging, exploring.

  He moaned, the small sound escaping from parted lips. Very sexy lips. The sort made for kissing a girl senseless. She had to taste them. Just one taste.

  She leaned down and pressed her lips to his. He responded by opening his mouth, not by moving away as she'd half expected.

  He pulled her closer, holding her hard up against him. Her breasts squashed against his chest. Without a bra to get in the way, her nipples quickly peaked with the friction, sending tingles shimmering across her skin.

  Ohhh...

  He reached around to her butt and pulled her on top of him with one powerful arm. Funny how his bruises didn't seem to be bothering him anymore.

  "Off," he said, tugging at her T-shirt.

  She sat up and helped him then threw the T-shirt to the floor. He massaged her breasts the way she'd massaged him earlier, teasing the nipples to points. Little jolts of lightening shot through her and she threw her head back and groaned.

  "That feels so good," she muttered.

  "You feel good. So hot. Sexy."

  She opened her eyes. His own eyes were glassy, intent on watching her nipples. When he caught her looking, he smiled. Lazy. Wicked. Hungry.

  Then he sat up and sucked a nipple into his mouth. Ruby gasped and arched i
nto him. Heat spiraled through her, coiling around her insides and heading south.

  "Yes," she hissed between her teeth. "Oh, yessssss."

  He suddenly withdrew. Hey! "More," she begged.

  He chuckled. "Soon, my sweet. First," he rasped, "take these off." He tugged at her track pants. She stood and drew them down with her underwear, throwing them on the floor with the T-shirt.

  She was completely naked. Normally she'd be self-conscious about her body, especially in front of a man built like Hercules, but the way he looked at her—with heat and want and need—made her feel utterly beautiful.

  "I think I'm at an unfair disadvantage," she said. She undid the fly on his jeans and together they removed them without him standing. He lay back on the couch, his hands behind his head, gloriously naked.

  Nope, definitely no bruises down there. But he did have one huge...weapon. She simply had to handle it.

  She circled her fingers around his thick erection, relishing the way his hips bucked and his eyelids shuttered. He mumbled something unintelligible then removed her hand.

  "I'm a man not a machine," he said. "If you keep going, it'll end too soon."

  "You want me to do something else?"

  "I want you to lie here and enjoy." Before she could protest, albeit weakly, he shifted his weight and flipped her over so their positions were reversed.

  He kissed her again, ravishing her mouth, none of the tenderness of earlier. As if he were starving.

  But he broke the kiss all too soon to move onto her throat. That was good too. Very good. She tipped her head back to expose more flesh to his expert lips. He licked and sucked her neck, her earlobe, her collar bone. Then to her nipples again and she nearly begged him to stay there but he moved south and she was fairly certain he was about to hit the jackpot so she kept quiet.

  He nipped at her stomach, teased her bellybutton with his tongue and licked her...WOW!

  She bunched her fists and bit down to stop from crying out. She should tell him to slow down, to let her savor the moment, but she couldn't speak, could barely think clearly enough to form actual words.

  The pressure quickly mounted until she thought she'd combust or burst or both.

  And then she did. The explosion ripped through her. She screamed. Her hips bucked. Her body tightened and relaxed over and over until every last drop of ecstasy was squeezed from her.

  Breathless, she tried to think of something to say, something appropriate like "Thanks" but her tongue wouldn't work. So she lay there, eyes closed, and allowed her body to relish its newfound sense of lushness.

  She'd had orgasms before but this one...this one was something else. She couldn't put her finger on it but her body had never felt so sated, so replenished. Complete?

  Not quite.

  She opened her eyes to see him propped up on one elbow watching her. Where his face was usually guarded, expressionless, it was slack with desire and...wonder?

  "Enjoy that?" he said, a coy smile revealing he already knew the answer.

  "Yeah," she said on a breath. "But if you don't enter me now, I'll go mad."

  He grinned. Actually grinned! "Can't have that." But instead of reaching for her, he reached for the jeans and pulled out a condom. He tore it open and sheathed himself then crept panther-like up to cover her body with his.

  She cupped him and he growled low in his throat. She guided him inside her and his thick erection slid in all the way. He moaned into her mouth as he kissed her. Small, teasing kisses as he built up a steady rhythm. Unable to stand it any longer, she pressed her hand to the back of his head and held him there. She deepened the kiss and he thrust harder into her.

  She wrapped her legs around his waist, loving the feel of him buried inside her, wanting it to go on. Then his pace quickened and she felt him swell and she thrust up to meet him, hips to hips.

  "God, Ruby, you drive me—"

  He never finished his sentence. A primal groan erupted from deep within his chest. She swallowed it with her mouth. One, two, three hard thrusts and the groan became a roar. His body suddenly shuddered and he arched his back as he came into her.

  When the aftershocks had lessened, he withdrew and removed the condom. With a sigh, he collapsed to one side of her, his back against the couch's back. She nestled into him, breathing in the scent of sex and man and bruise cream. The powerful throbbing of his heart echoed her own but his breathing soon returned to a more even rhythm.

  Now she felt sated, replenished, and complete.

  They lay like that, with his hand resting on her stomach, his leg covering hers and his chin above her head, until his body grew heavy. He was asleep. She couldn't lie with half his weight on top of her all night, but she didn't want to wake him.

  She put her free leg on the floor, edged her hips out from under him and—

  His hand clamped down on her waist, trapping her. Then, as if he realized what he'd done, he sprang up off the couch. He rubbed a hand through his already messy hair and looked around the room, everywhere but at her.

  "Sorry," he said.

  "Sorry?" She blinked at him. "What for?"

  "For..." He waved a hand at the couch. "I shouldn't have taken advantage of you like that. It's unforgivable." He bent and picked up her T-shirt.

  "Unforgivable? Not exactly the word I'd use." She snatched her T-shirt from his outstretched hand. "And you most certainly didn't take advantage of me. If anything I took advantage of you."

  He gave her a sideways glance. "Don't be ridiculous." He picked up her track pants and held them out.

  She ignored him. "Are you giving me the brush off? After..." She drew in a deep breath. "After what just passed between us?"

  "Nothing passed between us, apart from some body fluids and not much of that thanks to the condom." He shook the pants at her. "Take them, will you!"

  "Why?" She threw the T-shirt on the floor again. "Does my nakedness bother you?"

  "Hell, yes."

  "It didn't before."

  "I wasn't functioning properly before."

  "Back to being the machine again, I see. Well, I hope you enjoyed your grease and oil change. Don't bother calling me when it's servicing time again because I'm not a bloody mechanic." She stormed past him, still holding out her track pants, and headed straight for the hall and the main bedroom.

  She didn't turn round but she could swear her butt was turning hot from his stare. Good. Let him see what he was missing out on.

  CHAPTER 10

  He'd screwed up big time. Jake knew it as soon as he woke up in Ruby's arms. He'd slept with her. He'd broken the golden rule he'd set out for himself on his return to Melbourne after his last tour of Afghanistan. No mixing business with pleasure. Actually, that was his second rule. His first was not to let anyone get under his skin again.

  There'd been too many. Those kids, his parents... And now Ruby. He'd thought his resolve was stronger than ever these days. He'd proved that with his Dad. But Ruby had worked some powerful magic on him. Her hot kisses and her even hotter body had got him into major trouble.

  But if he was being honest, it was more than that. It was her ability to make him laugh, her tenacious attitude and the sheer force of her personality. She was incredible. Beautiful. She made him feel...human.

  She was Trouble.

  The sooner this job was over the better. Sydney never looked so good.

  He finally fell asleep in his own room but it was filled with dreams of Afghani kids and hospital beds and a naked Ruby. Four hours later he was glad to get up and start thinking about who really had stolen the Florentine.

  After a brief shopping trip for groceries, he sat at the kitchen table and wrote a list of suspects on a notepad. At the top was Sinestri, the double-dealing broker with links to the black market. Second was Sonya Beauvoir with her killer nails and desire for the diamond. Third, but by no means least, was Aaron, Ruby's assistant. He could have milked Ruby for information about the Florentine's movements and taken it upon himself to do
a little thieving of his own.

  This last suspicion he'd keep to himself.

  His phone rang—or really it was Damien's phone. He checked the screen. A number but no name came up. "'Lo," he said into the phone.

  "Son? It's me." Jake recognized his Dad's voice, or rather, his new voice. Ever since the stroke, he sounded weaker, thinner. It wouldn't scare a fly off a wall now.

  "How'd you get this number?" Jake barked down the line.

  "I rang your apartment and your friend answered and said I could contact you on this number. I want to speak to you."

  "You are speaking to me."

  "Not like this, not over the phone. Come see me."

  "I can't. I'm on a job then I'm going to Sydney as soon as it's over."

  A pause, then, "You can't even spare me ten minutes?" The voice shook with frailty and something else. Emotion? No, couldn't be. His dad didn't even know the meaning of the word.

  Jake sighed and looked up to see Ruby watching him from the doorway. She tucked her hair behind her ear and came into the kitchen. She was dressed in a pink tank top and a white skirt, made from some kind of thin material that flipped around her thighs as she walked. Damned summer. As if it wasn't warm enough without having a hot woman walking around dressed in tiny clothing. A hot woman who was off the menu.

  "Jake, are you still there?"

  "Yeah, still here," he said into the phone. "Look I've got to go. I'll try and drop in before I leave for Sydney." He hung up. "I went out and bought some supplies while you were still asleep." Maybe if he talked to her as if the couch incident hadn't happened, he could return their status to what it had been before. Friendly, comfortable. The flirting part would have to get left out of the equation from here on. Too dangerous.

  She opened the fridge and went straight for the orange juice. "You've been up for a while?"

  "Yes." It was early afternoon. She'd been asleep nearly five hours. "There's fresh coffee in the pot on the stove."

  She nodded but said nothing. He watched as she made herself a sandwich and poured a glass of juice, but then he had to look away because he couldn't stop remembering how she'd felt beneath his hands. Smooth and lithe and willing.