Читать книгу Mistress & a Million Dollars / Satin & A Scandalous Affair: Mistress & a Million Dollars - Jan Colley - Страница 8

Two

The next morning Briana caught a taxi to Quinn Everard’s office and left the diamonds with his office manager. Then, after another couple of days in Sydney, including lunching with her agent, she caught a plane back to Melbourne on the Wednesday, and drove to her father’s house to check on him first. Then she’d go home to her apartment on the other side of the city. She still had to prepare for the Moomba Fashion Show this coming Labor Day weekend at the casino.

So it was mid-afternoon by the time Briana parked in the driveway of the solid brick home that her parents bought when they’d moved to Melbourne from Sydney nearly thirty years ago. They’d never been rich but had been comfortable. Her mother had even insisted on sending her and Marise to one of the top private schools here in Melbourne, after a spinster aunt had left her some money.

Now, when Ray Davenport opened the front door to her, Briana noted with concern that her father was looking tired. He’d been through so much, having kept her mother’s secret of the cancer that ravaged her body, until the end, when her mother had become so ill he’d finally told their daughters she was dying.

“Want some coffee, honey?” he asked, walking ahead of her into the kitchen.

“Thanks, Dad. That would be lovely.” She followed him, noting the stoop to his shoulders. “By the way, I dropped those diamonds off for an appraisal.”

He looked over his shoulder with a frown. “Diamonds?”

“The ones Marise left in my safe.”

His face cleared. “Oh, that’s right. You found them in your safe after the plane crash, didn’t you?”

“Yes.” Overcome with grief, she’d nearly forgotten Marise asking for the safe combination to keep some jewelry in there.

Briana had thought nothing of giving the combination to her sister. She’d also let Marise stay in her Sydney apartment once she and her father returned to Melbourne, after Barbara Davenport had been buried next to her own parents in Waverley Cemetery. It was then that Marise seemed to go off the rails, those last few weeks before the plane crash. Their mother’s death had devastated Marise, but for her sister to remain in Sydney had been unwarranted.

Especially after she’d started to be seen around town with Howard Blackstone.

Especially when she had a husband and a small son back in New Zealand waiting for her.

No wonder Matt had said he didn’t give a damn about any jewelry belonging to Marise. But she knew her brother-in-law wasn’t thinking straight, and that was part of the reason she’d decided to get them appraised. Perhaps if they were valuable they’d be worth keeping for Blake as a memento of his mother. Or maybe one day Matt would forgive his late wife and want the diamonds back. In the meantime, getting the diamonds valued was something she could do for her dead sister.

“So you’re getting them appraised, you say?” her father said now, bringing her back to the moment. Again she noticed he didn’t look well.

She stood in the kitchen doorway, her forehead creasing. “Dad, are you okay?”

A moment crept by.

“Dad?”

He looked up at her then, and there was a despairing look in his eyes that had her sucking in a sharp breath. “I’m a thief, Briana. I’ve stolen some money.”

The breath caught in her lungs. “Wh-what?”

“I stole from Howard Blackstone.”

She stared in astonishment. “My God! How much?”

He paused, then let out a shaky sigh. “One million dollars.”

* * *

Briana was still reeling from her father’s confession as she sat at the roulette table at the casino on Saturday evening. It had taken such an effort to keep her mind on the fashion show today, then again at the cocktail party this evening, but somehow she’d put a professional smile on her face. Afterward, not ready to go home to an empty apartment, she had stayed on.

It wasn’t every week a daughter learned her father had stolen a million dollars. And from a “secret” account he’d been told about while working as an accountant for one of Australia’s richest men thirty years ago, after Howard’s previous accountant had passed on that bit of information.

Nor was the reason her father had taken the money in the first place enough to stop Ray Davenport from going to jail. Medical expenses for his wife’s cancer, then a world cruise after a terminal diagnosis would garner immense sympathy, but in the end, the law would not condone embezzlement.

A lump wedged in her throat. With the newspapers continuing to report on the anonymous buy-up of Blackstone shares, she could just imagine how the media would hound her poor father, not to mention herself. They’d already gone through that after the plane crash. She didn’t want to go through it again.

Besides, it wouldn’t look good that her father had never forgiven Howard for firing Barbara when she’d become pregnant with Marise. Yet even after the Davenports had pulled up roots and moved from Sydney to Melbourne, the Blackstones had ended up an intrinsic part of their lives. In the latter years, Marise had worked for Blackstone Diamonds in sales and marketing, then Briana had found herself a model and the face of Blackstone Diamonds. And then Marise had been with Howard on the flight to New Zealand, and had died in the aftermath of the crash. It was crazy, but it was as if destiny had somehow wanted the Davenports and the Blackstones to keep a connection.

And how ironic that his supermodel daughter couldn’t help Ray out with money when he needed it. Her new million-dollar contract with Blackstone’s was due to be renewed in three months’ time, but nothing was ever certain until it was signed. Until then she had just enough to live on, thanks to her ex-business manager and lover, Patrick, who had convinced her to invest nearly all her money in an unbuilt apartment complex. It had sounded like a good investment at the time, until the developers had gone bust and she’d lost the lot.

She’d never told her parents about it, feeling like a sucker. They’d known she’d invested her money. They just hadn’t known she’d lost it.

All at once someone sat down on the seat beside her, and the hairs on the back of her neck stood up. She turned toward the man who suddenly and completely filled her vision.

“Jarrod!”

“Briana,” he murmured, his blue eyes trapping hers for a heart-stopping second.

She moistened her mouth even as she realized something. “You knew I’d be here, didn’t you?”

One brow rose. “Did I?”

“It’s too much of a coincidence otherwise,” she said, letting him know she wasn’t being hoodwinked.

He shrugged. “Perhaps.”

Her forehead creased. “You want to see me?”

“Oh yes,” he drawled, his gaze going over her long, blond wavy hair that tumbled around her head, before dipping to the creamy expanse of her neck and shoulders above the black cocktail dress, then further down and over the gathered bust held together by a diamond center clasp.

Her heart dropped to her toes but she managed a glare. “I meant that you wanted to talk to me?” she said, in no frame of mind to fend off his seduction.

He paused, his face turning unreadable now. “Yes.”

She waited for him to speak, and when he didn’t, she said, “Then talk.”

“Not here.” He got to his feet, his hand cupping her bare elbow, sending a warming shiver through her. “Come have a drink with me in the lounge.”

She looked up at him standing so close beside her, an air of command exuding from him, threatening to engulf her. She wanted to say no, but couldn’t think up a suitable excuse. “Just for a moment.”

Then she stood up too and his eyes approved the short, glamorous dress. Heat curled in her stomach, before he led her away from the crowds and into one of the lounges. It was quieter in here with plenty of small tables circled by large comfortable leather chairs.

He took her to some seats in a secluded corner that was much too intimate for Briana’s peace of mind, but when she saw some of the other patrons looking their way she was rather thankful no one could listen in on their conversation.

A waiter immediately came over to them, and she agreed to join Jarrod in a brandy. It would calm her nerves, she decided, watching him place their order, his self-confidence and sophistication an attraction many women would find appealing.

Dressed in dark trousers and a sports blazer with a white T-shirt underneath, he could have been a male model himself if there hadn’t been such a hard edge to him. Those blue eyes clearly showed that hardness, an arrogance that would never let anyone dictate to him, let alone a camera.

“No Jake Vance today?” he said once the waiter left.

“I gave him the day off,” she quipped.

The edges of that firm, sensual mouth tilted. “I doubt Jake would think of it that way.”

She doubted it, too, but she didn’t say so.

His smile disappeared and he fixed her with a candid gaze. “You and Jake are an item then?”

She lifted her chin. “I don’t think that’s any of your business.”

He considered her for a moment, a pulse beating in his cheekbone. “The two of you were having a good laugh together at Kim’s wedding.”

For a moment she didn’t know what he was talking about. Then she remembered her comment about testosterone keeping the boat afloat and a bubble of laughter rose in her throat.

His eyes narrowed. “So there is something going on between you two.”

She lost her amusement, not sure why he was being so insistent. “You wanted to talk,” she reminded him, crossing her legs, pretending this line of questioning wasn’t getting to her.

His eyes plunged to her legs in the ultrasheer silk stockings revealed by the ruffled hem, admired them, then rose back up to her face. “Are the two of you lovers?”

Her own eyes widened in dismay. “I don’t believe I’m hearing this.”

He held her gaze. “Tell me the truth, Briana.”

Panic stirred in her chest but she kept it at bay. “Why, Jarrod? Why do you want to know about Jake and me?”

“Because if he doesn’t want you, I do.”

Her head reeled back. “What?”

“I want you to be my lover,” he repeated firmly, leaving no doubt this time.

She gave him a glance of utter disbelief. “You can’t be serious!”

“You deny you want me, too?”

She swallowed past her suddenly dry throat, tried to speak and had to swallow again. “I can deny it and I do,” she lied, knowing she couldn’t admit wanting him. It would give him an unfair advantage over her. One he wouldn’t hesitate to use.

“Why sound so shocked? I’d have thought a woman like yourself—” he gave a tiny pause “—would be used to such propositions.”

Her blood pressure began to rise. “You mean because I’m a model?”

He inclined his dark head. “What other reason would there be?” he said silkily, as the waiter arrived with their brandy.

Her lips flattened with anger. At the wedding, Jarrod had made a similar comment about how far she’d come in the business. It hadn’t sounded like a compliment back then, and neither did this comment. Had he thought she’d slept her way to the top? It sickened her to think that, yet why she cared she didn’t know. It would serve him right if she called his bluff.

Why not?

“Okay, I’ll sleep with you,” she said, once the waiter left. “For a million dollars.”

His eyes flickered then became shuttered. “That can be arranged.”

Her brain stumbled. “What?”

He shot her a dry look. “Sleep with me and I’ll give you a million dollars.”

He’d well and truly called her bluff. “But—but you don’t have that kind of money to give away.”

His brows lifted. “You know that for a fact, do you?”

Oh heavens. Was she stupid or what? Apart from coming from a wealthy family, he’d made a name for himself as a property lawyer. Of course he’d have a million dollars to spare. What an idiot she was!

From somewhere she managed to scoff, “Ill-gotten gains, Jarrod?”

Contempt flashed in his eyes. “No. I’ll leave that to the Blackstones.”

“That’s my employer you’re talking about,” she said coolly.

“Doesn’t change a thing. The Blackstones are far from saints.” He picked up the two glasses and passed one to her. “Now, about our agreement—”

She took the brandy glass from him, but an acute sense of panic raced through her again. “Keep your money. I don’t want it. I—” She stopped.

She did need the money.

Needed it more than he could ever know.

“Having second thoughts?” he asked.

“No.” She took a sip of brandy, and wished her denial carried the same strength as the alcohol now burning her throat.

“We can always do with more money,” he pointed out, watching her as if knowing all along it would come back to this.

This being money.

Of course, she now realized that by even suggesting the million dollars she was playing into his belief that she was cut from the same cloth as her sister. Marise had said she’d fallen in love with Matt, but Briana suspected Matt’s wealth hadn’t hurt, either. And then there was Marise and Howard….

“A million dollars, Briana,” he reminded her.

No, she couldn’t do it. She wasn’t for sale.

Then she forced her heart to steady itself. What if she looked upon it as a loan, asked a small voice inside her. A loan she would pay back once her contract with Blackstones was renewed.

A million-dollar contract.

But if it wasn’t renewed? What if they got someone else to replace her as the face of Blackstone Diamonds?

What if—

No, she wouldn’t think about “what if’s”. Nor would she think about not repaying the money to him at all. It just wasn’t in her to be underhanded.

But could she make love to Jarrod Hammond?

Oh God. How much of a hardship would that really be? She was attracted to him, no doubt about it. Intensely attracted, if she were to be honest with herself. It wasn’t like she would be making a huge sacrifice and giving her body to someone who was revolting and wouldn’t appreciate her. Jarrod would definitely appreciate her. Oh yes. She didn’t know a man who would appreciate her better.

“Briana?”

She glanced at him then. He looked cool and calm, yet she sensed he was anything but. He wanted her just as much as she wanted him. So what harm would she do in sleeping with him? It wasn’t as though she would be doing anything against her will.

On the contrary…

“It’s a deal,” she heard herself say.

He scowled. “It is?”

“You don’t have the money?” she said with a rush of disappointment that was about more than just getting her father out of trouble.

His dark brows straightened. “I have it.” Just as quickly a considering light came into his eyes. “But now that I think of it,” he drawled, “a million dollars for one night is a bit too much money—even for the face of Blackstone’s.”

Her lips tightened. He’d been playing with her. “Fine. That’s it then.”

“No, I’d say it’s worth a month of nights together, don’t you?”

She stiffened in shock. “No! I can’t. A month is too long.”

He shrugged his broad shoulders. “That’s my offer. Become my mistress for one month and I’ll give you a million dollars.”

She swallowed hard. “That wasn’t what I agreed to, Jarrod, and you know it.”

“You agreed to sleep with me. True. But we didn’t mention a timeframe.”

She shook her head, not understanding him. “Why can’t you be satisfied with one night?”

He didn’t move a muscle. “Can you?”

She winced inwardly. Could she do it for one whole month? One night was so different. Or was it? Wouldn’t only one night make her feel as if she really were selling herself? Wouldn’t being his mistress for a month make her feel better about it all? Or was she just kidding herself?

“Briana, you want the money. Don’t deny it.” He waited a moment. “And I want you.”

She cleared her throat and ignored an inward shudder of heat that couldn’t be attributed to the brandy. “Who said I want the money?” she asked, trying to put him off the scent of her father’s trail.

“You don’t? Then it must be me you want,” he mocked, his smirk saying he’d backed her into a corner.

Mentally kicking herself, she raised her chin. “I’m not denying the money wouldn’t come in handy.” She saw the hard look that entered his eyes. “And I don’t deny that sleeping with a man such as yourself wouldn’t be a—nice experience.”

He smiled sardonically. “I’m glad you think so.”

“But a month does seem a bit too long.”

He swirled the brandy in his glass, then looked up at her. “Take it or leave it. But let me tell you, if you leave it, there won’t be another chance.”

Suddenly a feminine power settled over her, giving her confidence. “You might want to rethink that, Jarrod. After all, I’ve got something you want—my body. And if in a month’s time I say I want you, I’m pretty sure I won’t have to beg.”

His nod acknowledged her words. “Oh, I don’t deny that. But next time there won’t be any money involved, sweetheart. It’ll be just you and me. I won’t be offering a million dollars again.”

She gritted her teeth. He was a clever devil. Somehow he sensed she wouldn’t walk away from the money. What he didn’t know was that she couldn’t walk away from it. Not if she wanted to help save her father.

So what if she accepted Jarrod’s extended offer? The month would go fast. She had quite a few modeling engagements around the country to give her a break from Jarrod’s overwhelming presence. At least there was that.

And perhaps she could even prove to him that she wasn’t like her sister, she thought, then immediately rebuked herself. Why would she even want to? She owed Jarrod Hammond nothing.

She placed her glass of brandy on the coffee table in front of her. “I’ll give you until the end of the month. That’s three weeks. Take it or leave it,” she said, putting the ball back into his court.

A moment crept by.

Static crackled the air between them.

Then he drained his glass and put it down next to hers. “I’ll book a room,” he said, about to get to his feet.

Her eyes widened. “What? Here?”

He stopped with a frown. “I thought it might be easier for our first night together.”

“For whom?”

“You.” He watched her in silence for a moment. “If you like, we can go back to my apartment…or to yours.”

That was the last thing she wanted. “No,” she said quickly. “A room here will be fine.”

“Good.” He stood up. “Wait here. I’ll send you a note to say what suite I’ll be in.” He glanced around at the other patrons, then back at her. “I’m sure you don’t want your reputation to suffer if somebody sees us going up together.”

“Not to mention yours,” she managed to say, still reeling from what tonight’s outcome would be.

His eyes darkened. “I don’t give a damn about my reputation, Briana. It might be wise to remember that.” He strode off.