Boardrooms & a Billionaire Heir / Jealousy & a Jewelled Proposition: Boardrooms & a Billionaire Heir

“Still lost,” Holly conceded, stopping before she added, just like James Blackstone.

Lost.

A strange shiver brushed over Jake’s skin, like the fingers of a dead woman grazing his conscience.

A lost diamond. A missing Blackstone.

The awful comparison sneaked into his head and lingered as he absently rubbed his arm where his so-called mother had dug in her fingers, the death grip from that frail hand suddenly sharp, astute.

Don’t hate me, Jake. Her eyes had taken on a fevered quality, wide in her sunken face. I wanted you so much. I love you more than anything.

And now here he was. Not lost any more. So why did he still feel like some shipwreck survivor adrift on the sea?

Two hours later, a pregnant Jessica Cotter Blackstone had met Jake and Holly at the back door to the exclusive Blackstone’s Sydney store and guided them to a private showing room.

Holly shifted in her chair and recrossed her legs. Up until now, she’d always liked this room for its ample, airy space. But with Jake sitting so close, even the long glass-topped mahogany display table wasn’t sufficient to ward off the strange little buzzes zapping her body.

She glanced to her right, to the huge photo of Briana Davenport above a display cabinet. Dubbed the Face of Blackstone’s, the model was glancing into the camera over one shoulder, a sensual smile on her lips, drop diamonds shining from her ears, matching the sparkle in her gorgeous eyes. Holly had seen Jessica look at the picture when they’d first arrived, then apologetically at Jake. He’d merely shrugged, but Holly had watched the way his attention lingered on the stunning face of his former flame.

She shook her head. The man had dated practically every available, gorgeous socialite in Sydney. He was a confirmed bachelor. A confirmed serial dater, her all-knowing flatmate Miko would say with a toss of her jet-black hair. Jake had proved her rich man–supermodel theory in spades when he’d taken up with Briana. With the press alluding to marriage at one stage, it must have cut the man’s ego deeply when she’d thrown him over for millionaire lawyer Jarrod Hammond who was also, ironically, Matt Hammond’s brother. Jake had been suspiciously absent from the spotlight in the weeks that followed…unlike the Blackstones, with their undeserved trials and tribulations.

More than once her mind had lingered on the comparison between AdVance Corp and Blackstone’s. Just like Howard, Jake Vance had started from nothing. But where Jake was a lone wolf, Howard Blackstone and his family had created a dream, nurturing it into the multibillion-dollar business it was today. Despite that success, people had loved to hate Howard Blackstone. There was that something in Jake Vance, too, something that made her quake. It was the same ruthlessness, the cold look in their eyes. Even Max, with his skilled ability to diffuse the most volatile of arguments, wasn’t exempt from Howard’s displeasure. And like Howard, once crossed, nothing short of total destruction would satisfy Jake Vance. She had no doubt if you incurred the man’s displeasure, you’d know about it.

So what will he do to you when he finds out you’re nothing more than a corporate spy?

Her heart, already pounding with nervousness, started to throb in earnest. If he found out. If.

Jessica finally returned with a velvet tray and Holly determinedly ignored the flutter of helplessness starting in her belly. Instead, she watched Jake, who was concentrating intently on Jessica as she explained the cutting process, the rarity of pink diamonds and alluvial deposits. When she referenced something in the store brief she’d prepared, he looked down at the document and Holly became all too well aware of his hair as it slid over his forehead. It was too long to be called a military cut, too short to be completely unconventional.

It looked clean. Shiny. She resisted the sudden urge to lean forward and sniff. Instead she remained still, only half-surprised that her breath quivered on the way in.

His tall, commanding presence, so supremely confident in an expensive dark grey suit, had her itching to scoot her chair back to the outer edges of her comfort zone. He might be an arm’s length away, but she was too close to escape the aura that radiated from him like some kind of will-numbing drug.

Jake shook off the tiny prickles of sensation from Holly’s scrutiny and deliberately focused on the tray of diamonds before him. As Jessica turned a huge yellow-stoned ring deftly into the light, it created a kaleidoscope of rainbow shards across the room. So this was the fuel for Howard’s obsession. If he’d been hoping for answers in the multifaceted polished depths, he was disappointed.

“Blackstone’s is famous for our candies,” Jessica said, replacing the ring and picking up a blue-stoned bracelet set in silver. “Pale-canary to deep-sun yellow. Pinks, blues, greens. If I know Holly, she’s already told you about our wares.”

Jake zoomed back in on his too-silent assistant and directed his question at her. “How much are pink diamonds worth?”

He noted the way she shoved back her hair, the jerky movement containing an underlying tension. Yet her eyes were as sharp and clear as the gemstones he’d been viewing. “At a 2004 Sotheby’s auction, a 351 round 1.23 intense purplish pink went for just over a hundred and forty-three thousand dollars a carat. Minimum bids started at a hundred thousand dollars a carat.”

“So something like—say, the Blackstone Rose, would be…?”

“The four round trillion-cut diamonds were seven carats each, the pear-shape center, ten. At the time it was worth millions. Today…who knows?”

The cool and matter-of-fact way she imparted that information intrigued him. He’d never known a woman to be so calm when discussing the glorious brilliance of a priceless gem. She’d been more into Blackstone history than what made Howard a dizzying financial success.

In the small space of a day she’d piqued his interest, both physically and mentally.

“Try it on.” Jessica grinned at Holly, forcing Jake’s attention back to the tray of diamonds spread before him like party trinkets.

When Holly smiled he got the feeling this was a familiar scenario for the two women. He watched her finger the blue sapphire solitaire, running her thumb pad almost reverently over the square gem on a gold band, surrounded by tiny diamonds. In the background, Jake heard Jessica recounting some statistics about diamond mining but, at this moment, Holly commanded his attention.

Slowly, sensuously, she slid the ring over her knuckle, until it came to rest at the base of her finger.

An image burst forth, unwilling, unbidden. Holly wearing that ring and not much else.

His throat suddenly became drier than the Great Sandy Desert.

“That’s bad luck, you know,” he murmured. Her eyes shot to his as he clarified. “Putting a ring on your wedding finger without a proposal.”

She paused, obviously testing her retort, until Jessica answered with a laugh. “Don’t tell me you believe in old wives’ tales, Jake?”

“My mum swore by them.”

Jessica’s expression turned sympathetic. “I’m sorry about your mother.”

He waved her apology away and instead picked up a pink diamond.

Holly quickly placed the ring back on the tray as her senses registered the faint teasing smell of Jake’s cologne. She didn’t want to look, shouldn’t look, but somehow, she found herself engulfed in those intelligent green eyes. Too eagerly, her body leaped in response. Warmth started in the pit of her belly, heating as it unfurled and spread. Oh, my.

His eyes skimmed her face, betraying nothing but cool perusal. If she hadn’t seen the spark of heat in his eyes that morning, she would’ve said he was a damn robot.

Do not think about that. Think about your mission.

She followed his movements as he picked up one stone, then another. Yeah, she was a regular Mata Hari all right, trying to uncover the deep dark secrets of Mr Midas Touch himself. As if she’d find anything that wasn’t already in the public domain.

As if there’d be anything out there he hadn’t already personally vetted and approved.

The problem was, she realised as they left the store, Jake was rapidly becoming so not what she’d expected. He’d greeted the heavily pregnant Jessica warmly, pulling over a comfy one-seater for her instead of the harder official viewing chairs. He’d silently flicked through Jessica’s brief of the store, asked intuitive questions about the stones and the staff. And why had he wanted to see the diamonds? It didn’t matter what a bunch of gemstones looked like. It was Blackstone’s ability to make money that mattered. If selling cow dung turned a profit the man would be interested.

She stared out the car window, at the mounting peak-hour traffic. She needed to remember that Jake Vance was a ruthless man. She’d read about his famed decisiveness, his superior negotiation skills, all borne from his meteoric rise from the ashes following false accusations from Jaxon Financial’s CEO. One interviewer in particular wasn’t impressed by Jake’s success, labelling him as “autocratic, cold and poisonously polite.”

Jake had the ability to destroy people in so many different ways that it took her breath away. That should be enough to turn her off. So why did her brain have to act so damn… female when he was around?

As if sensing her thoughts, he glanced at her.

Their gazes clashed and for a second she felt a brief flicker of scalding heat before—Yep, there came the shutdown just before he returned to the brief.

Now he was just plain irritated. As if she was the last person in the world he wanted to see.

Yeah, I know how that feels.

Her phone suddenly rang, cutting off her thoughts.

With a soft groan, she noted the number. “I need to take this. Excuse me.” Without waiting for Jake’s acquiescence, she angled herself towards the window and took the call.

Minutes later, as her mother’s bank manager spelled out the dire straits of her predicament, Holly’s stomach dipped. The brief feeling of nausea was quickly followed by an irrational wave of injustice. Here she was, in the midst of almost obscene wealth, while her parents were struggling with the fallout of one stupid business decision.

The faint tinge of guilt roiled in her stomach as she clicked off the call. If only she hadn’t been a typically selfish teenager, nagging her parents to sell… But now she had to be the strong one and take care of them.

Her breath came out in a whoosh. I need to keep my job, which means spying on Jake Vance.

She stared out the window, at the passing traffic along George Street, a constant reminder of the realities of who she was and what she’d done and what she needed to do to keep her reputation and her family safe.

Jake stared at the document on his lap until he realised he’d been reading the same paragraph five times. During her mystery call, he’d noticed her tense and bow her head. After a few hushed whispers, she’d shoved a hand through her hair and paused. He caught “money,” “payment” and “default” before she finally hung up.

Suspicion arrowed through him like a bolt from heaven. He opened his mouth to say something but suddenly pulled himself short. Her shoulders were hunched in a position he’d seen too many times before. Defeat.

He caught a faint sound. A sigh? No. It was a shuddery intake, almost as if she were trying to draw strength on a breath but failing abysmally. That small vulnerability, hitting below the belt and tightening his chest in a fierce irrational rush of emotion threw him for a six.

Against all logical reasoning, he lifted a hand, but just as quickly, he forced it back to the brief with a thump.

His small movement shattered the air and Holly whirled. “Sorry about that.” She shoved away a stray curl as the now-familiar polite smile spread her mouth briefly. “Where were we?”

“Your hair.”

“What?”

He flicked a finger towards her head. “Your clip’s come loose.”

“Oh.”

She yanked back her hair, a gentle flush spreading across the high curves of her cheeks. Jake couldn’t hide his amusement, which faltered when a sudden unbidden thought flashed through his head. How would she look, hair loose and spread out on my pillow?

At the store, when she had picked up that blue ring, he’d seen a glimpse of something in her gaze. Longing. Wanting. As if she desperately needed but knew she couldn’t have.

His attention flickered back over her face, taking in her profile, that small mole hidden from his view. There was nothing he couldn’t have. Nothing he’d been denied.

Desire cleaved his gut, sharp and urgent. Despite the tight rein on his control, he smiled.

It was a smile bereft of humour. A smile full of grudging admission.

He wanted Holly. At least, his body wanted her and generally, what he wanted, he got. But this time…

After years of business decisions based on a combination of solid facts and honed sixth sense, his gut feeling failed him right now. And in the absence of that, he had to go with what his past had taught him.

Stay away.

“It’s after five. I’ll take you home,” he said curtly.

She shook her head. “That won’t be necessary.”

“It’s not a problem.”

Holly crossed her arms with a soft sigh, realising arguing would be futile in the face of his cool determination.

Ten minutes later, they were in front of her apartment building and he’d rounded the car to open her door. When he offered his hand, she hesitated only briefly before taking it.

Bad decision, she told herself. Bad, bad, bad.

After he helped her exit she just stood there, her fingers still engulfed in his. He commanded her attention, unwillingly, effortlessly.

If the May night air held a chill, Holly couldn’t feel it. Instead, the heat of him sucked all the breath from her lungs, leaving her heart jumping merrily along in anticipation. He was staring down at her with those piercing, almost analytical eyes, their bodies too close for her comfort. For one insane second, the romantic in her imagined him leaning in for a goodbye kiss on the cheek but she quickly dismissed the fanciful thought with a blink. Didn’t stop you wanting it, though, did it?

She eased her hand from his warm grip and just like that, the moment shattered. As he stepped back, the night air whooshed into the void, sending a shiver over her skin.

“What’s your phone number?” he asked.

“Why?”

Amusement tweaked his lips into a shadowy smile. “In case I need to call you.”

She felt the hot flush of embarrassment across her cheeks as she reeled off her mobile number and he punched it into his phone.

“Steve will pick you up at seven tomorrow. We’ll be flying to an appointment in Lighting Ridge,” Jake said, pocketing his phone. At her look of confusion, he added, “To check on a new complex I’m building.”

“You don’t delegate?”

“Some things I choose not to.” He leaned against the car, a nonchalant gesture that oddly suited him. “Have a good night, Holly.”

Jake watched as she walked up the pathway to her apartment, her back ramrod straight, her hips swaying in that deliciously tantalizing way. When she unlocked the door, turned to him with a nod and disappeared inside, his smile fled.

It was time to find out just who Holly McLeod was.

Three

“The crisis center was your mother’s idea,” Holly casually stated as they boarded the Cessna on their way back to Sydney the next afternoon.

“Yes,” he said, nodding to the flight attendant and handing him his coat.

“I’m sorry for your loss, Mr Vance.”

He’d heard those simple words a thousand times in the past few weeks, yet instinctively he knew Holly meant them.

“My mother was committed to causes,” he acknowledged as he eased into the black leather seat.

“So I heard. You must have been very proud of her.” He gave a non-committal answer then said, “Better strap yourself in.” She nodded and went to her seat further down the aisle.

Pride wasn’t the first thing that came to mind when he thought of April Vance Kellerman these days. He’d buried her last month, what now seemed a lifetime ago. Unbidden, the past crowded his head with the suppressed memories his mother’s shocking confession had stirred to the surface. An urgent, whispered confession that he’d put down to the painkillers. The confession of a dying woman who’d been living a lie. One that had suddenly taken on malevolent form.

The only reason she’d confessed was fear—fear of being discovered. If Howard’s investigator hadn’t been so dogged in his pursuit, crossing state lines on the strength of speculation and hearsay to finally end up in Jake’s hometown, he had no doubt he’d still be in the dark about his true parentage.

He balled a fist and thumped it gently on the cold glass window. Like water from a cracked cup, the resentment seeped out, leaving a deep, dark emptiness in its wake.

Everything he knew, everything he’d based his life on was a lie. Yet so many things, so many oddities he’d never questioned clicked into place: Why they’d lived like nomads, shifting across state lines. Why family was never mentioned. And the nightmares that had finally stopped when he was ten years old.

Jake sighed and allowed himself that moment of grief and guilt. The two powerful emotions mingled to form a hard black lump in his gut. If he took any more time, he’d be forced to look long and hard at every choice, every decision April had made that had shaped his life.

Reluctantly he acknowledged a simple fact: April’s death had hit way too close to home. He’d already begun to reassess his life after her funeral, to silently question just who he was and what he was doing. The inevitable shadows of death had touched him deeply, the painful, scary vulnerability it wreaked forcing him to re-evaluate his ten-year plan.

That plan was close to completion: he had everything money could buy and then some. Everything the Blackstones had been born into, everything April had lacked. After this Blackstones fiasco was behind him, he could fully commit to the last on his list—get himself a wife and start a family.

He glanced back to Holly. She was staring out the window with a pair of headphones on, studiously concentrating on the tarmac as they taxied down the runway. And just like that, his whole body tightened, forcing a surprised breath from his throat.

With mounting irritation he silently admitted his plan to intimidate her—and by default, the Blackstones—with an overt display of wealth had backfired. He’d wanted Blackstone’s to be clear on exactly who they were dealing with, and what he could do if crossed. But it surprised him how calmly she took everything in her stride, from the early flight in his top-of-theline ten-seater Cessna to his subtle commands that had them winging their way back to Sydney a few hours later. She hadn’t missed a beat, answering his blunt questions with accuracy, waiting patiently while he signed off on the multiplex center.

This girl from the bush fit right into his million-dollar world as if born to it. And she was tempting, his little Blackstone’s assistant, with her snug business skirts and touch-me shirts. His groin ached in sudden painful remembrance of last night. She’d invaded his dreams and got under his skin in a way other women hadn’t. It was part desire, part knowledge of the unknown. Was she a spy? Did she have an agenda? Perversely, not knowing excited him even more.

He scowled, looking but not seeing the runway flash by as they picked up speed and launched into the air with a flourish. If he wasn’t careful, his fascination would become a weakness. He’d been stupid enough to allow one woman to break his heart then let another destroy his trust. It wasn’t going to happen again.

But damn, he wanted her. Probably, he admitted ruefully, because he shouldn’t have her.

His phone rang then, dragging him from those dangerous thoughts.

“How did it go with the Blackstones?” said Quinn by way of greeting.

“How do you think?” Jake muttered, resting the phone on his shoulder while shuffling through the floor plans of the center he’d just inspected. “The DNA sealed it. And now I have a walking, talking Blackstone’s billboard to keep tabs on me while giving the hard sell.” He eased back in his seat and the leather squeaked in protest.

“Is she cute?”

“Does it matter?” Jake scowled.

“Which means she is.”

“So?”

“A guy just needs to know these things.”

The tension in Jake’s shoulders relaxed an inch. “Right. You’re getting soft in your old age, mate,” he drawled, his attention fixed out the window, at the huge expanse of drought-stricken land rolling below.

“There’s more to life than making money.”

“Ahh, another piece of Quinn-wisdom. Next you’ll be telling me ‘all you need is love.’”

“Maybe all you need is your hot little Blackstone’s billboard.”

Jake snorted. “Forgotten Mia, have you?”

“Everyone else has. But hey, if you’re happy dragging that baggage around with you—”

“I don’t have baggage.”

“Right.” Quinn’s frustration crackled down the line. “Lucy. Your stepdad. All those shitty little towns you grew up in. You’ve got a whole bloody wardrobe, mate.”

“Yeah, thanks for that.” Jake screwed up his eyes and rubbed the back of his neck. “While I have you here, is there any way of tracking down that missing Blackstone diamond?”

“I’ll get onto it straight after I finish building my time machine.”

“Smart-ass.”

“Laser identification wasn’t invented until the early eighties. You’d have a better chance finding Eldorado. And anyway, Matt Hammond…already…me…it.”

Jake frowned. “You’re breaking up.”

The line went dead and with a soft curse, Jake hung up.

Suddenly restless, he rose to his feet and walked the few metres down the plane to where Holly was now studiously scribbling on a spreadsheet.

When he approached she glanced up and quickly shoved a folder across the papers, but not before he caught the heading on the top. Finances.

“A bit early for your tax return,” he said mildly, and leaned against the back of seat, crossing his arms.

“I like to get on top of things.” She met his eyes almost defiantly and changed the subject. “I’ve been organising your schedule,” she said without preamble. “You’ve got a four-o’clock meeting with Kimberley, and I’ve asked our department heads for their last quarterly reports.” She offered some papers to him. “I printed out the corporate structure, along with the contact numbers of key Blackstone personnel. After five I’ll give you a proper tour of the building.”

He stood there, filling the space too well, looking far too comfortable, Holly thought with chagrin. When he leaned in to take the documents, awareness suddenly hit. He smelled warm, musky and expensive. He smelled wonderful.

She surreptitiously glanced at her watch, trying to hide her nervousness, but he caught her look.

“Would you like to join me for lunch?”

His mild question hung in the air but she swore she could see a faint flicker of challenge in his eyes. Ruthlessly she ground out a stab of desire. “No, thank you.”

He raised one brow. “Why not?”

“Because I brought my own.”

“You’d rather brown bag it than have a proper meal with me?”

She paused, weighing her answer. “Yes.”

His short chuckle surprised her. “It’s just food, Holly. We’ll use a Blackstone’s restaurant. And talk business.”

She tipped her head, considering him. “Hasn’t anyone ever told you no?”

“Not if they wanted to keep their job.”

She bristled. “You’d sack me for refusing to eat with you?”

“No.” His answering grin did nothing to ease her tension. “Anyway, I can’t sack you. You work for Blackstone’s.”