It Started with a Diamond

by Teri Wilson

  “We were invited. All the high-end jewelers in the city are here. It’s a power move on Harry Winston’s part. I think it’s their strategy to show the Lambertis that Harry Winston is the obvious choice to cut the diamond. It’s bold to invite all your competitors. Confident. You have to admire it.”

  “Well, I don’t.” Diana rolled her eyes. “When you put things that way, the invitation is insulting. How dare they insinuate Drake Diamonds isn’t good enough? We’re the best in the world.”

  Artem winked at her. “My sister, a CEO in the making.”

  Franco returned to their group carrying two champagne flutes and offered them to Diana and Ophelia. “Ladies.”

  “Thank you,” Ophelia said.

  Diana reached for a glass and took a fortifying sip of bubbly. It was time to make her move.

  She wasn’t about to let the Lambertis be swayed by Harry Winston. If the egotistical power players behind this party thought she was intimidated, they were sorely mistaken. Drake Diamonds was about to totally steal the show.

  We need this to look real.

  She stole a glance at Franco and took another gulp of liquid courage. Someone needed to make it look real, and clearly it wasn’t going to be him for once.

  She moved closer to him, slipped her hand languidly around his waist and let her fingertips rest on his hip.

  His champagne flute paused halfway to his lips. He glanced at her, and she let her hand drift lower until she was caressing his backside right there in Harry Winston in front of all of New York’s diamond elite.

  Franco cleared his throat and took a healthy gulp of champagne.

  Another couple joined their small group. Artem introduced them, but their names didn’t register with Diana. Her heart had begun to pound hard against her rib cage. All her concentration was centered on the feel of Franco’s muscular frame beneath the palm of her hand.

  “What are you doing?” he whispered.

  “I’m doing exactly what you wanted. I’m making it look real.” Her gaze drifted to his mouth.

  He stared down at her, and the thunder in his gaze unnerved her. “This is a dangerous game you’re playing, Diana. And in case you haven’t noticed, I’m not in the mood for games.”

  She handed off her champagne flute to a waiter passing by with a silver tray. “Come with me.”

  “We’re in the middle of a conversation.” He shot a meaningful glance at Artem, Ophelia and the others.

  “They won’t even miss us, babe.” She slid her arm through his and tugged him away.

  They ended up in a darkened showroom just around the corner from the party. The only light in the room came from illuminated display cases full of gemstones and platinum. Diamonds sparkled around them like stars against the night sky.

  “Babe? Really?” Franco arched a brow. “Why don’t you just call me honey bun? Or boo?”

  He could make fun of her all he wanted. At least she was trying. “You’re blowing it out there. You realize that, don’t you?”

  A muscle flexed in his jaw. He looked as lethal as she’d ever seen him. “You’re exaggerating. It’s fine.”

  “Fine isn’t good enough. Not tonight. You said so yourself.” She couldn’t let his icy composure get to her. Not now. “Talk to me, Franco. What has gotten into you? Did you have a bad day on the polo field or something? Did your polo pony trip over your massive ego?”

  She crossed her arms and waited for him to admit the truth.

  He raked a hand through his hair, and when he met her gaze, his dark eyes went soulful all of a sudden. If Diana had been looking at anyone else, she would have described his expression as broken. But that word was so wholly at odds with everything she knew about Franco, she was having trouble wrapping her head around it.

  “I didn’t ride today,” he said quietly. “Nor have I ridden for the past month. So, no. My pony did not, in fact, trip over my massive ego.”

  “I know. Artem just told me.” Her voice was colder than she’d intended.

  She wasn’t sure why she was so angry all of a sudden. She’d been the one to insist they keep things professional. And now was definitely not the time or place to discuss the fact that he was no longer playing polo.

  But she couldn’t seem to stop herself. The emotions she’d been grappling with since Artem so casually mentioned Franco was no longer playing with the Kingsmen felt too much like betrayal. Which didn’t even make sense. Not that it mattered, though, because words were coming out of her mouth faster than she could think.

  “Why didn’t you say something? Why didn’t you tell me?” The last thing she wanted was for him to know she cared, but the tremor in her voice was a dead giveaway.

  He looked at her, long and hard, until her breath went shallow. He was so beautiful. A dark and elegant mystery.

  Sometimes when she let her guard down and caught a glimpse of him standing beside her, she understood why she’d chosen him all those years ago. And despite the humiliation that had followed, she would have chosen him all over again.

  “You didn’t ask,” he finally said.

  She gave her head a tiny shake. “But...”

  “But what?” he prompted.

  He was going to make her say it, wasn’t he? He was forcing her to go there. Again.

  She inhaled a shaky breath. “But I told you about Diamond.”

  Their eyes met and held.

  Tears blurred Diana’s vision, until the diamonds around them shimmered like rain. Something moved in the periphery. She wiped a tear from her eye, and realized someone was coming.

  Her breath caught in her throat.

  Carla and Don Lamberti were walking straight toward them. Diana could see them directly over Franco’s shoulder. Panic welled up in her chest.

  The Lambertis couldn’t find them like this. They most definitely couldn’t see her crying. She was supposed to be in love.

  In love.

  For once, the thought didn’t make her physically ill.

  “Kiss me,” she whispered.

  Franco’s eyes glittered fiercely in the shadows, drawing her in, pulling her toward something she couldn’t quite identify. Something dark and familiar. “Diana...”

  There was an ache in the way he said her name. It caught her off guard, scraped her insides.

  A strange yearning wound its way through her as she reached for the smooth satin lapels of his tuxedo and balled them in her fists.

  What was she doing?

  “I said kiss me.” She swallowed. Hard. “Now.”

  Franco’s gaze dropped to her lips, and suddenly his chiseled face was far too close to hers. Her heart felt like it would pound right out of her chest, and she realized she was touching him, sliding her fingers through his dark hair.

  She heard a noise that couldn’t possibly have come from her own mouth, except somehow it had. A tremulous whimper of anticipation.

  You’ll regret this.

  Just like last time.

  Franco took her jaw in his hand and ran the pad of his thumb over her bottom lip as his eyes burned into her. His other hand slid languidly up her bare back until his fingertips found their way into her hair. He gave a gentle yet insistent tug at the base of her chignon, until her head tipped back and his mouth was perfectly poised over hers.

  She felt dizzy. Disoriented. The air seemed too thick, the diamonds around them too bright. As her eyes drifted shut, she tried to remind herself of why this was happening. This wasn’t fate or destiny or some misguided romantic notion.

  She’d chosen it. She was in control.

  It doesn’t mean anything.

  It doesn’t.

  Franco’s mouth came down on hers, hot and wanting. Every bone in her body went liquid. Warmth coursed through her and, with it, remembrance.r />
  Then there was no more thinking. No more denial. No more lying.

  Not even to herself.

  * * *

  This kiss was different than their last.

  Franco thought he’d been prepared for it. After all, this wasn’t the first time his lips had touched Diana Drake’s. They’d been down this road before. He remembered the taste of her, the feel of her, the soft, kittenish noise she made right when she was on the verge of surrender. These were the memories that tormented him as he’d lain awake the past seven nights until, at last, he’d fallen asleep and dreamed of a hot summer night long gone by.

  But now that the past had been resurrected, he realized how wrong he’d been. A lifetime wouldn’t have prepared him for a kiss like this one.

  Where there’d once been a girlish innocence, Franco found womanly desire. Kissing Diana was like trying to capture light in his hands. He was wonderstruck, and rather than finding satisfaction in the warm, wet heat of her mouth, he felt an ache for her that grew sharper. More insistent. Just...

  More.

  He actually groaned the word aloud against the impossible softness of lips and before he knew what he was doing, he found himself pressing her against the cold glass of a nearby jewelry display case as his fingertips slid to her wrists and circled them like bracelets.

  What the hell was happening?

  This wasn’t just different than the last time he’d kissed Diana. It was different from any kiss Franco had experienced before.

  Ever.

  He pulled back for a blazing, breathless moment to look at her. He searched her face for some kind of indication he wasn’t alone in this. He wanted her to feel it too—this bewildering connection that grabbed him by the throat and refused to let go. Needed her to feel it.

  She gazed back at him through eyes darkened by desire. Her irises were the color of deep Russian amethysts. Rich and rare. And he knew he wasn’t imagining things.

  “Franco,” she whispered in a voice he’d never heard her use before. One that nearly brought him to his knees. “I...”

  Somewhere behind him, he heard the clearing of a throat followed by an apology. “Pardon us. We didn’t realize anyone was here.”

  Not now.

  Franco closed his eyes, desperate not to break whatever strange spell had swallowed them up. But as his pulse roared in his ears, he was agonizingly aware of Diana’s wrists slipping from his grasp. And in the moment that followed, there was nothing but deep blue silence.

  He opened his eyes and focused on the glittering sapphire around her neck rather than turning around. He needed a moment to collect himself as the truth came into focus.

  “Mr. and Mrs. Lamberti.” Diana moved away from him in a swish of tulle and pretense. “We apologize. Stay, please.”

  It had been an act. All of it. The caresses. The tears.

  The kiss.

  He took a steadying inhale and adjusted his bow tie as he slowly turned around.

  “Mr. Andrade, we’d know your face anywhere.” A woman—Mrs. Lamberti, he presumed—offered her hand.

  He gave it a polite shake, but he couldn’t seem to make himself focus on her face. He couldn’t tear his gaze away from Diana, speaking and moving about as if she’d orchestrated the entire episode.

  Probably because she had.

  “Franco, darling. The Lambertis are the owners of the diamond I’ve been telling you about.” Diana turned toward him, but didn’t quite meet his gaze.

  Look at me, damn it.

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you both,” he said.

  “The pleasure is ours. Everywhere we turn, we see photos of the two of you. And now here you are, as real as can be.” Mr. Lamberti laughed.

  “Real. That’s us. Isn’t it darling?” Franco reached for Diana’s hand, turned it over and pressed a tender kiss to the inside of her wrist.

  Her pulse thundered against his lips, but it brought him little satisfaction. He no longer knew what to believe.

  How had he let himself be fool enough to fall for any of this charade?

  “It’s nice to see a couple so in love.” Mrs. Lamberti brought her hand to her throat. “Romance is a rarity these days, I’m afraid.”

  “I couldn’t agree more.” Franco gave Diana’s waist a tiny squeeze.

  Diana let out a tiny laugh. He’d been around her long enough now to know it was forced, but the Lambertis didn’t appear to notice.

  They continued making small talk about their diamond as Diana’s gaze flitted toward his. At last. Franco saw an unmistakable hint of yearning in the violet depths of her eyes. He knew better than to believe in it, but it made his chest ache all the same.

  “Wait until you see it.” Mr. Lamberti shook his head. “It’s a sight to behold.”

  “I hope I do get to see it someday,” Diana said. “Sooner rather than later.”

  Good girl.

  She was going in for the kill, as she should. That baseball-sized rock was the reason they were here, after all. Another polo player was wearing Franco’s jersey, and the prospect of keeping up the charade alongside Diana suddenly seemed tortuous at best.

  But he’d be damned if it was all for nothing.

  “We’ll be making an announcement about the diamond tomorrow, and I think you’ll be pleased.” Mrs. Lamberti reached to give Diana’s arm a pat. “Off the record, of course.”

  Diana beamed. “My lips are sealed.”

  Mr. Lamberti winked. “In the meantime, we should be getting back to the party.”

  “It was lovely to meet you both,” Diana said.

  Franco murmured his agreement and bid the couple farewell.

  The moment they were gone, he stepped away from Diana. He needed distance between them. Space for all the lies they’d both been spinning.

  “Did you hear that?” she whispered, eyes ablaze. “They’re making an announcement tomorrow. They’re going to pick us, aren’t they?”

  Us.

  He nodded. “I believe they are.”

  “We did it, Franco. We did it.” She launched herself at him and threw her arms around his neck.

  Franco allowed himself a bittersweet moment to savor the feel of her body pressed against his, the soft swell of her breasts against his chest, the orchid scent of her hair as it tickled his nose.

  He closed his eyes and took a deep inhale.

  So intoxicating. So deceptively sweet.

  He reached for her wrists and gently peeled her away.

  “Franco?” She stood looking at him with her arms hanging awkwardly at her sides.

  He shoved his hands in his pockets to prevent himself from touching her. “Aren’t you forgetting something? We’re alone now. There’s no reason to touch me. No one is here to see it.”

  She flinched, and as she stared up at him, the look of triumph in her eyes slowly morphed into one of hurt. Her bottom lip trembled ever so slightly.

  Nice touch.

  “But I...”

  He held up a hand to stop her. There was nothing to say. He certainly didn’t need an apology. They were both adults. From the beginning, they’d both known what they were getting into.

  Franco had simply forgotten for a moment. He’d fallen for the lie.

  He wouldn’t be making that mistake again.

  “It’s fine. More than fine.” He shrugged one shoulder and let his gaze sweep her from top to bottom one last time before he walked away. “Smile, darling. You’re getting everything you wanted.”

  Chapter Nine

  A Page Six Exclusive Report

  New York’s own Drake Diamonds has been chosen by the Lamberti Mining Company as the jeweler to cut the world’s largest diamond. The massive rock was recently unearthed from a mine in Botswana and weighs
in at 1,100 carats. Rumor has it Ophelia Drake herself will design the setting for the record-sized diamond, which will go on display later this month at the Metropolitan Museum of Art.

  No word yet on the exact plans for the stone, but we can’t help but wonder if an engagement ring might be in the works. Diamond heiress Diana Drake stepped out again last night with her current flame, polo-playing hottie Franco Andrade, at a private party at Harry Winston. Cell phone photos snapped by guests show the couple engaged in some scorching hot PDA. Caution: viewing these pictures will have you clutching your Drake Diamonds pearls.

  Chapter Ten

  Pop!

  The store hadn’t even opened yet, and already the staff of Drake Diamonds was on its third bottle of champagne. The table in the center of the Drake-blue kitchen was piled with empty Waterford glasses and stacks upon stacks of newspapers.

  Drake Diamonds and the Lamberti diamond were front-page news.

  “Congratulations, Diana.” Ophelia clinked her glass against Diana’s and took a dainty sip of her Veuve Clicquot. “Well done.”

  “Thank you.” Diana grinned. It felt good to succeed at something again. Although it probably should have felt better than it actually did.

  Stop. You earned this. You have nothing to feel guilty about.

  She swallowed and concentrated her attention on Ophelia. “Congratulations right back at you. Have you started sketching designs for the stone yet?”

  Ophelia laughed. “Our involvement has only been official for about an hour, remember?”

  Diana lifted a dubious brow. “So until now you’ve given the Lamberti diamond no thought whatsoever?”

  Ophelia’s expression turned sheepish. “Okay, so maybe I’ve been working on a few preliminary designs...just in case.”

  Diana laughed. “It never hurts to be prepared.”

  Artem’s voice boomed over the chatter in the crowded room. “Okay, everyone. The doors open in five minutes. Party time’s over.”