by Avery Laval
“I say, when do we start?”
And with a kiss that could have melted half the snow in the mountains, they started right away.
Sneak Peek: A TYCOON’S JEWEL
The Sin City Tycoons Series: Book 1
Can a man who came from nothing trust a woman who lost everything?
Six years ago, Jenna McCormick lost it all—her parents, her fortune, and her family’s jewelry empire. After the shock wore off, Jenna realized she didn’t need her fortune to be happy. Today, she has her brother’s love and a small apartment. She doesn’t miss the champagne lifestyle she left behind. But she can never forget the day Grant Blakely stole her family’s company, placing himself at the helm. She was half in love with Grant, her father’s protege, now the youngest black CEO in Las Vegas history. She never wanted to ask him for help. But now she has no choice.
When Jenna asks Grant for a job, he’s certain she must be joking. Even Jenna couldn’t have burned through her trust fund that fast. She’s persuasive, though, and her appeal hasn’t faded. Grant tests Jenna’s resolve: he hires her, but as his assistant. She won’t be able to put up with the menial tasks and hard hours of a real job. But Grant fails to predict how the sizzling attraction grows between them as he discovers she’s not the playgirl she used to be.
Soon, the spark between them reignites. But can Grant trust her? And can Jenna trust the man who took everything from her?
Read on for a preview of A Tycoon’s Jewel.
1
It took a great deal to surprise Grant Blakely. He’d seen a lot of nonsense in his position as CEO of McCormick Jewels, to say nothing of what he’d dealt with as he’d built up a real estate portfolio that covered valuable properties in Las Vegas and beyond. And then there was his father, the true master of surprise.
But walking into the waiting room outside his own office and finding the woman he’d wrestled the company away from six years ago, perched on a straight-backed chair and looking out-of-sorts—and yes, really, really good?
That was the biggest surprise he’d had in a long time.
He paused in the doorway, where he could just watch her for a moment, undetected, and leaned against the doorjamb to take in the sight. Long brown hair fell around her shoulders in pools. She drummed her fingernails on her knees and bounced her heels in and out of a pair of incredibly high-heeled, uncomfortable-looking black stilettos. She’d always been attractive, but in the last six years, she’d become an absolute knockout. She looked nervous, and seriously alluring.
Well then. Jenna McCormick, all grown up and sitting in his lobby, shaking like a doe in hunting season. Grant uncrossed his arms, pushed himself away from the door, and cleared his throat as he approached, enjoying the startled look on her face when she realized he’d been watching her.
“Good morning, Ms. McCormick,” he said, smooth as a cat with a smile to match. “To what do I owe this pleasure?”
The woman—for she was certainly not the shiny-eyed party girl she’d been the last time they’d met—jumped up out of her chair and spun around to face him. Her large dark eyes opened and shut tight a few times in rapid succession, as if she couldn’t believe he’d snuck up on her. When really, Grant thought, she should have been expecting exactly that, considering their history.
He watched with some pleasure as she rearranged her features, hiding her disarmament with a cryptic smile, as though she’d known he was there all along. “Grant Blakely,” she said, extending a hand. “How nice to see you. It’s been a long time.”
Grant ignored her outstretched hand and moved past her to the door of his office, opened it, and tried not to show his curiosity. “Six years,” he said. He moved into the office and maneuvered around his heavy mahogany desk, knowing well enough that she would need no invitation to follow. “Six very prosperous years for McCormick Jewels.” He dropped into his heavy black leather chair and gestured at the trappings of the company’s newfound success.
Jenna moved to the middle of the room and took in the framed glossy magazine covers featuring the company’s most beautiful designs and the rows of industry awards that weighed down a glass bookshelf to his left. Her face gave away a mix of jealousy and regret. Good. He’d brought the company a long way in the time since she had nearly run it—and him—into the ground, and he wasn’t about to let her forget it.
“It would be hard not to notice how successful you’ve been,” she said at last, though her wording made him suspect that she’d tried. “Features in the Times, the Journal, the Sun. According to Fortune you’re the youngest black man to run a major corporation in this town. And how could anyone miss the cover of Essence’s ‘40 bachelors under 40’ issue? I must admit, it’s all very impressive. You deserve congratulations.”
Grant raised an eyebrow. Though her words were polite, she seemed to be forcing them from her lips. “It sounds like you’ve been following my press quite closely.” He leaned back in his chair and put his hands behind his head like he was sprawling on a beach chair. “I’m flattered,” he said, not hiding his sarcasm, “though you’re the last person I expected to deliver congratulations, considering our… history.”
Jenna’s expression remained controlled, but her mouth twisted just a bit at his insinuation. “If by history you mean the way you stole my family’s company out from under me—” she began hotly, but then seemed to catch herself and started again in a much milder tone. “What I mean to say is, I do regret…that we parted on such bad terms.” She turned to face him directly and gave him a polite smile. “But I’m truly glad to see the company my father worked so hard to build is doing well. He would have been very proud,” she added, her smile warming just slightly.
Grant’s suspicions grew. The fiery brat who’d given him such a fight the last time they’d met would never have sat across the desk from him and smiled meekly at his domination.
Unless she wanted something. “So you came in to see me today just to wish me well, then?” he asked, moving his arms to cross them in front of his chest.
Jenna faltered, just as he’d known she would. “Uh, no, not exactly.”
“Oh, no? Why am I not surprised?” He leaned forward. “In that case, why don’t you have a seat and enlighten me. I haven’t seen or heard from you for years. What brings you to McCormick Jewels after such a prolonged absence?”
Jenna took the offered seat, a chair positioned opposite his desk, giving him a chance to fully take in the sight of her for the first time. From the moment he spotted her, it had been impossible not to notice that she’d only become more beautiful since the last time he’d seen her, her body a little less angular, her face softer and less made-up. But now he saw that there was also something different in the way she carried herself, as though she belonged here, in the corner office of a CEO. Ridiculous, he told himself. This was a spoiled jewelry heiress who belonged in a nightclub, not an office. It was simply her choice of wardrobe that had made him momentarily think otherwise.
She wore a smart, classically styled gray suit that was a bit conservative for a high-society bad girl, he thought, but the hem of the skirt rose just a hair over her creamy thighs, teasing him with the promise of more. He wrenched his stare away as she crossed one long curvy leg over the top of the other. No, Grant told himself sternly. This was not the sort of woman he could afford to indulge such thoughts about.
But she made it hard to keep up his guard. Even all those years ago, when she was refusing to step aside for the good of the company, she’d been enticing—but now, that strange pull that drew him to her was only stronger. He fought to ignore it. She was bad for business.
“I need a favor,” she blurted, after a long pause. Her hands twisted in her lap with nervous energy.
Again his eyebrows shot up. “A favor? Ms. McCormick, you perplex me. When last we met, you swore you’d never speak to me again, much less ask me for a favor. Remember?” Grant let a wry smirk settle on his face. “What was it you called me again?”
At
that, Jenna’s lips clamped shut and her eyes shimmered. Grant couldn’t miss the fire simmering beneath her forced composure. He had to admit, he was enjoying watching her squirm. Perhaps more than he should.
“I really couldn’t recall,” she said, clearly trying to tamp down her temper and play nice. “But I’m sure I said it in the heat of the moment. My parents had just died, if you’ll remember, and I was in shock—”
“Let’s see…” Grant interrupted, drumming his fingers on the desk. “I believe you called me a morally corrupt, scheming cheat who’d drive this business into the ground.” Now his smile grew larger. “That’s right. A morally corrupt, scheming cheat. Now why would you ask a favor from such a person?”
Jenna took a deep breath and shook her head, as though regrouping her resolve. Against his better judgment, Grant found himself intrigued by her unwillingness to give in to her emotions. Such a change from the last time he’d seen her. “Please understand, when I said that, I was under a lot of strain. My parents had just died. And I—” she looked upwards for a moment, as if searching for the right words, “I had just lost the thing that mattered most in the world to them. There’s no way you could have known this at the time, but I had promised my father I would always keep a hand in this company, no matter what.” Her eyes drifted downward. “That day was when I realized I would have to break that promise.”
Grant shook his head, unwilling to give her even the tiniest bit of sympathy. “The way I remember it, you had some choice in the matter. In fact, if memory serves, as soon as you stopped your little tirade that day, I offered you a chance to stay. An entry level job, so you could learn the business the right way. You threw it back in my face so fast I didn’t even get to finish my sentence.”
He remembered that day perfectly. She’d just found out about the board’s decision to choose him over her as the new CEO, and she’d barged into his office, mad as a wet hen, and read him the riot act. Despite his annoyance, he’d felt duty-bound to promise her a job at the company—starting at the bottom, of course—if she ever saw fit to join the rest of the working world. Which, he felt quite sure, she never would.
She’d merely laughed at his offer and told him exactly where he could stick it as she stormed out.
Jenna cleared her throat. “I was too hasty then,” she said, as if such an understatement could describe her childish behavior. “But I had hoped, after all this time, that we might put the past behind us,” she said in a cool, almost detached voice. “And that you might help me out of respect for my father. I’m sorry if I’ve made a mistake.”
Grant snorted. “If our situations were reversed, if you were in my shoes, would you have time for a favor for me?”
Her eyes lost focus for a moment at that, as though she were imagining herself sitting at his desk, heading up the company she’d wanted so badly to lead six years ago. So badly she’d nearly ruined his career, and the company’s reputation with it. He watched her carefully, wondering how she could possibly respond.
When she did speak, her voice sounded resigned, almost sad. “I can’t imagine you ever needing a favor from me,” she said softly.
The words found their target, and Grant felt that twinge of guilt. It was true, he was a self-made businessman and his success was all his own. And she—she was a former heiress with nothing but her social connections to fall back on. She probably needed all the help she could get.
He sighed, rubbing a hand through his black hair. “Look, you’re right about one thing. Your father was a good mentor to me. If I can help you, I will, even though you surely don’t deserve it. But you’ll have to get on with it. I’m a very busy man, and I have no interest in sitting around rehashing old times. At least, not with you.”
Jenna’s heart was pounding. Though she’d thought through her dilemma every which way and sideways, she hadn’t been able to think of a better solution than the one she was about to suggest. This solution wouldn’t exactly keep her promise to her father, of course, but it would be something, something that she knew he would be proud of if he were still alive. It would serve as the proof that she would never again let go of the family business, even if she was only holding on by the thinnest of threads. Proof that she wouldn’t abandon what the McCormicks had worked so hard to create.
But as badly as she wanted to do right by her family, the moment she’d laid eyes on Grant Blakely again, her fortitude had left her, and she’d wished desperately to be anywhere but there. She’d known going in that it would be hard seeing him again. He was the man who had shattered her fantasies about life. He’d stolen her family’s business only a few weeks after she’d become, well, an orphan. He’d heartlessly let her twist in the wind. And he still believed she’d deserved it.
She’d prepared herself to be reminded of what had happened the last time she was in his office, the pain of that day and everything that led to it. But she hadn’t been prepared for one added wrinkle.
The man who had been her adversary back then had only become more attractive with time, looking every bit the wildly successful power broker he’d become. She could see now why his name showed up so often in the tabloids, attached to this or that model, spotted in some glitzy casino with high rollers. In his impeccably tailored suit, he towered over her, every inch of him solid and immovable, from his dark sculpted jaw to the broad expanse of his shoulders. He’d been formidable enough the last time she’d seen him, but now? She was way out of her depth, and she knew it. Her body trembled with awareness as she took him in. And the way he was looking at her—his piercing brown eyes raking over her like he wanted to eat her alive—didn’t make pleading her case any easier.
She could apologize to him for wasting his time and bolt, she thought. She could race out the door and never set foot in this building again, forget the business her father and mother had built together, as a team, the business they would have entrusted to her if they’d had the chance.
But she couldn’t forget her brother. She closed her eyes and thought of him, and it kept her seated in that office, kept her face neutral, kept her from showing all the trepidation she felt sitting this close to Mr. Grant Blakely, CEO of her father’s company. A man who was, for the second time in her life, in control of her destiny.
She swallowed hard. “Grant, I know we’ve had our differences in the past,” she said, biting her tongue on all the things she truly wanted to say about how he’d treated her the last time they’d met. “And it’s not easy for me to ask for it, so you must know how badly I need your help. You see, I’m…I’m in a tight spot. Financially. And I miss this company—”
“I’ll bet you do. It must have been quite a nice source of cash when your father was in charge.”
Ignore him and stick to the speech, Jenna reminded herself, though inwardly she seethed at his accusation. Ignoring someone whose presence dominated the room the way Grant’s did wasn’t easy. “Six years ago you offered me a chance to work here. Promised me a job if I wanted it. I am wondering if you’d still be willing to hire me after all this time. Please. I need a job—any job—as soon as possible.”
There. It was out of her mouth. Had she begged? She’d tried so hard to keep the desperation out of her voice. Dignity was all she had right now.
But Grant merely laughed. “Now you want a job? You? Jenna McCormick? Please tell me this is some sort of joke.” He laid his arms flat on his desk like a sphinx, leaning in as though he couldn’t believe this was happening. Almost like he was angry. Offended, even. A shiver ran up her spine.
“I’m quite serious.” She leaned right back into the desk, suppressing her anger but not letting herself back down. “I want to come back here and work. For you.”
Grant shook his head, but didn’t lean back. “Ask for anything else. Ask for money—I can write you a check. Ask for an apartment—one of my holdings can surely hold the likes of you. Hell, ask for a setup with one of my rich older friends. I’ll find you a sucker and lend you the jewelry for your first date.�
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“A date?” Jenna recoiled, stung. “A date?” Now he had pushed her too far. “You think a date with a wealthy man is the same as a job?” She stopped herself before she completely lost her temper and risked forfeiting her only chance at getting back on her feet, but her pride burned. Did he think she was for sale?
Grant only raised his eyebrows, didn’t back down an inch—in that regard, he hadn’t changed at all. “Maybe I’m wrong, Ms. McCormick. Maybe you’re too proud to be a gold digger. But let me ask you this: How old are you?”
You know exactly how old I am, she thought. She’d been twenty-one when her parents passed away. Just old enough to legally take control of the company, though in her heart, she knew she’d been far too young for the responsibility. “I’m twenty-seven.”
He shook his head. “Twenty-seven years old now. And you’ve been doing exactly what since we last met? Working your way up from the mailroom at a Fortune 500 company, learning the ropes and putting in your dues? Or maybe getting a college degree and applying for your MBA?”
“Not exactly,” said Jenna, hating the direction this was going. “I’ve had commitments.”
“Right. I can guess what’s been occupying your time, and I know it’s not business school. If you’re coming to me looking for a job, that must mean you’ve blown through your trust fund and are looking for a meal ticket. But you don’t want to go work just anywhere, do you?” Grant shook his head with something that looked like disgust. “You want to work at Daddy’s company so you can coast during the day and you won’t risk missing out on your valuable pedicure time. Isn’t that right, Jenna?” He said her name like it was a foul taste in his mouth, and she was reminded of just how cruelly he’d laughed at her the last time she’d been in his office. How devastated she’d been that day.
