“The outfit you chose is perfect,” he said, his voice low and gravelly, and so damn sexy that it nearly sapped all that remaining resistance. Especially when his fingertips brushed against her waist.
Somehow, she uttered a thanks, then made her way to the safe. She began to press the buttons on the lock. In an instant he was behind her, his hand on her hand, his chest against her back. Her mind returned to the flash of images that had played before her closed lids last night in her room as she satisfied that sweet ache he’d left her with on the dance floor. That same damn ache camped out again, beating a pulse in her belly, asking her to move closer to him. There. Right there. So she was aligned with the length of his strong, sturdy body.
He wrapped his fingers over hers.
“What are you doing?” She wasn’t sure if the question was about the safe or his intentions. Though his hard body—hard everywhere she wanted him to be—made it clear his intentions lived in the same vicinity as hers.
He drew a breath, then brushed his lips on her shoulder. She was ready to turn around, grab him, pull him to her bed, and let him strip her to nothing and take her. It had been a long time. So damn long that her body was ready to defect from her brain, which was trying to tell her she didn’t trust men as far as she could throw them and this man was nothing but red flags.
He whispered a combination of numbers. Five of them, to be precise.
The hair on her neck stood on end, and she froze.
She unfroze as he pushed those numbers on her safe, and the door popped open. She swiveled around and pressed her hands on his chest. She stared at him like he’d just crash-landed in her room on a rocket ship. “How did you do that?”
He shrugged and shot her a smile that could melt panties. “Told you I could open safes. I just wanted to show you.” He brushed a strand of hair off her shoulder. “So you know I’m a good partner.”
He bent his head closer to her neck once more and dusted another soft, barely there, almost chaste kiss on her. She pressed her hand to his chest, undeterred. “But how did you do that?” she asked again, refusing to focus on that kiss.
“Ariel,” he said casually. “Two, seven, four, three, five.”
Her jaw dropped, then she swatted him. “Not. Fair. You tricked me again.”
He laughed deeply, the booming sound carrying across the room. She nudged him away from the safe and grabbed the box with the diamond her stepfather had given her. A dose of embarrassment surged through her.
“C’mon, Steph,” he said, reaching for her.
She shrugged him off. “C’mon what?”
“I was just trying to show you what I could do.”
“Yeah, and you sure did. You made me look stupid for picking that as my combination.”
“I’m sure it’s not your ATM pin, though,” he said matter-of-factly, his sunshine eyes lighting up.
“No. It’s not,” she said, patting herself mentally on the back for choosing a slightly more complicated string for her bank. “I just can’t believe I picked something you figured out in two seconds.”
“It’s a name you like. It’s your nickname. Don’t feel bad. People usually choose familiar words for their combinations. Understanding habits and human nature is part of my job.”
“But you were kissing me and trying to make me melt in your arms to give it up.”
He laughed once more and shook his head. “Nope. You’re wrong there. You didn’t give it up. And I was just kissing your neck because you smelled so damn good I couldn’t help myself.” He held up his hands in surrender. “Twenty-four hours and I’ve already broken the rules. I promise it won’t happen again, and please do forgive me for not being able to resist you in that moment when you looked so ridiculously hot in front of the safe.”
He doffed an imaginary top hat, like a Victorian-era gentleman apologizing properly.
She huffed, wishing she could stay mad at him. She clutched the box to her chest. “Fine. Apology accepted. Now let’s go before you feel compelled to toss me on the bed and do very bad things to me as you practice ratios.”
He groaned, a deep, throaty sound that told her she’d regained the upper hand.
Momentarily.
As she drove to the diamond district with him, she gripped the steering wheel of her rental so she wouldn’t be tempted to run a hand along his arm. “OK, let’s review the plan. You’re going to get as many details on my diamond as you possibly can so we can try to figure out where it came from,” she said, her heart pinching with the hope that his intel would somehow make it clear that her rock was a simple gift from Eli.
“Yep. And what it’s worth, of course. To see if it could even add up. See, Andrew and I were originally thinking Eli might have moved the stolen money in art, like we talked about,” Jake said, and she winced at the word stolen. “But moving that much in art is conspicuous. It’s much easier to get on a plane with a handful of diamonds than with big wads of cash or hundreds of canvases. Shipping art that expensive, too, would be noticed, with the insurance a thief would need to cover it.”
Another wince. Another cringe. She wished he’d stop using those damn words.
“But gems,” Jake said, continuing his theorizing, “Eli can put on a string and wear that around his neck on the flight. He can have his fiancée wear them. Doesn’t matter. Once they’re diamonds, they travel easily on your person.”