The Sapphire Heist (A Jewel Novel Book 2)

by Lauren Blakely

  “He said that?” Jake furrowed his brow.

  She wrapped her lips around the red straw and drank. “Yes. It seems like a strange thing to say out of nowhere, doesn’t it?”

  Jake sighed and slid his palm down his face. “Actually, it’s not completely random. When I talked to Andrew on the phone yesterday, he mentioned out of the blue how pretty your mom is.”

  Steph crinkled her freckled nose, then set her drink on the ground. “Really? Ugh. That just kind of grosses me out right now.”

  “I have to admit, I thought it was a little odd to mention it. Not that your mom isn’t gorgeous, because,” he said, stopping to gesture to the evidence in front of him in the form of the woman’s beautiful daughter, “obviously she produced you, but it was strange to say.”

  “Jake,” she said softly, pushing up on her elbows. “Do you trust Andrew? How do we know for sure what he’s told you is legit?”

  “Kate vetted everything beforehand. I wouldn’t have taken the job if I didn’t believe his info was solid and checked out,” he said, squeezing her calf for emphasis and putting his drink down, too.

  “What if Kate made a mistake, though?”

  He blinked, looking at her like she was crazy. “Excuse me?”

  “What if your sister missed something? What if those documents and e-mails were doctored?”

  He shook his head, his jaw set hard. “No. I saw them myself, and besides, Kate specializes in document analysis. She doesn’t make mistakes,” he said, his tone firm.

  “But everyone makes mistakes,” she said softly.

  He cocked his head to the side, not liking this new direction. “Then by that rule of thumb, what if you made a mistake? What if you were wrong?”

  “What are you saying I’m wrong about?”

  “I’m saying you’re wrong in stating that the evidence is false. I think maybe,” he said, taking his time with the next words, “you’re letting these gifts he gives you sway you from the truth.”

  “What gifts?”

  “The car,” he said matter-of-factly. “He gave you his car to use. No wonder you’re believing the lie he served up about Andrew.”

  Her eyes blazed with anger, but her voice was menacingly quiet when she spoke. “I don’t care about material things. I don’t care about the car. I care about my family. OK? I’m just like you, only excuse me that we’re not above reproach. I get that Eli isn’t perfect. I know that as well as anyone. He’s made a ton of mistakes and he’s hurt people. But he’s the only father I’ve ever had, and even if he’s less than perfect, I would hope you of all people would understand the ties that bind,” she said, sitting up straight, anger radiating off her.

  Shit.

  He was hitting below the belt, and it wasn’t fair. He couldn’t even pretend to know how torn she must feel. “Steph,” he said softly, running his fingertips down her arm. She shirked away. “I’m sorry I said that. I do understand the pull. I just don’t want you to be blind to what’s going on,” he said, then tried once more to touch her. Selfishly, he couldn’t risk fighting with her like this. There was too much at stake, and he couldn’t jeopardize the case just because he disagreed with her. She might tip off Eli. She might turn her back on him. She might cross him.

  But he also hated to see her hurting.

  He ran his fingers down her bare skin once more. This time, she let him. “I know it’s hard,” he whispered.

  “It is hard. It’s really fucking hard,” she said in a broken whisper, devoid of anger now, laced only with sadness.

  That he knew. That he understood. And that he could comfort as a man who cared deeply for a woman. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close, petting her hair. “I know, Steph. I know. And I know how important family is. Trust me, I do.”

  Trust.

  That’s what this all came down to. He still wasn’t entirely sure if they trusted each other, but she fit so damn well in his arms that it was almost impossible to fathom that they might still doubt each other.

  She pulled away a few inches. “And on top of all of that stuff in here,” she said, tapping her heart, “I feel like we’re being set up. Everywhere I turn, we hit a snag.”

  “That’s the nature of a case like this. Three steps forward. Two steps back.”

  “I wouldn’t be surprised if the diamonds are in Africa at this point with the charity. Or with Ferdinand. He made the strangest comment when I left today that made me think he knew the combo to my safe. Or maybe Tristan has them. He’s trying to do a deal with my stepdad to carry some new drink.”

  “Or with the diamond saleswoman,” he said, then described Monica to her, down to the details of her glasses.

  Steph’s big blue eyes blinked. “Are you kidding me?”

  “No. I’m not,” he said, tilting his head to the side. “Why do you sound so surprised?”

  “Because that woman was at Isla’s house party. She sounds exactly like the same Monica.”

  “Holy shit,” he said, the wind knocked out of him in surprise. “It’s got to be her. She has to be the one who took your diamond. She was the one who told me the value of it when I went to International Diamonds with you. I bet she followed us that day. Remember, we heard a car peeling out in the garage where I . . .” He let his voice trail off to remind her of their afternoon in the back of her Jeep.

  She rolled her eyes playfully, and that one light gesture from her in the midst of her frustration hooked into his heart. He wanted to be the one to lift her up, to whisk her away from a crappy day. “Yes, I remember. Anyway, you think she was following us?”

  “It’s entirely possible that she wanted that diamond of yours from the second I showed it to her at the store. She could have followed us to figure out where you were staying.”

  “See? This is my point. I’m being followed. People are stealing from me. My stepdad’s manager makes odd comments. I just want to do my job. But there’s still this one big, fat issue for me,” she said, stopping to take a beat and meeting his gaze. “What if Eli is telling me the truth?”

  “Do you believe him?”

  “I don’t know what to believe. It’s not even about the jewels anymore, Jake. Or who they should or shouldn’t belong to,” she said, dragging a hand through her hair. “I don’t know what to believe about him.”

  He didn’t know how to reassure her or if he even could. He didn’t have to grapple with the same issues. Eli had helped raise her, he’d lived with her, he’d taken her to kiss stingrays. That bond wasn’t easily dismissed, despite his sins and omissions on other fronts.

  But to Jake, Eli was simply the target. He didn’t have to divorce his emotions; there were none.

  He ran his hands down her legs, reaching for her foot. Her eyes drifted closed, and she moaned softly as he pressed his thumbs against the ball of her foot. A contented sigh fell from her lips as he massaged her heels, her arch, her toes, all the way to her little pinkie. He wiggled it. She laughed, a sweet sound, like bells.

  He rubbed his way up, digging his fingers into the strong muscles of her legs. Her legs had hooked him that first night. They were one of the things he noticed about her in the bar. How strong and athletic she was, making her his type physically. But in the last week he’d learned she was much more than that. What started as physical had morphed into something more. Into the kind of something where he wanted her to be happy, where he wanted to bring that sparkle back to her eyes.

  He reached her thighs, and she let one knee fall to the side.

  Oh hell. He wasn’t strong enough. He didn’t possess enough restraint to rub her legs in a hammock in public. He wanted her too much.

  He reached for her hand and took her to their room.

  Once inside, he lifted her dress over her shoulders, then slid off her panties. She took off his clothes. They didn’t say anything. Only sighs. Only murmurs. Only touches. Words weren’t needed. He wanted to comfort her with his touch.

  Walking backward to the bed, he pulled he
r on top of him. He cupped her cheeks in his hands, brushing her hair from her face, stopping to look at her—to memorize her face, to run his thumb along her jaw.

  Her lips parted, and there it was. That hazy, sexy, vulnerable look that he adored seeing. One of yearning, one of longing.

  She whispered his name. “Take me. I want you to take me.”

  “I want to have you,” he said, his voice low and needy. He was desperate for her. “God, I want to have you.”

  He reached for a condom on the nightstand, but before he could put it on, she grasped the packet, opened it, and rolled it on him. He twitched in her palm, loving, just fucking loving her touch. Lust and desire swelled inside him as she lowered herself. All the air in his lungs rushed out as her heat gripped him.

  She dropped her hands to his chest, her palms pressing hard as she rolled her hips against him.

  Again and again.

  Over and over.

  It felt so damn good. This closeness. This connection. This moment with this woman. All the moments with her. Currents of pleasure surged inside him as she circled her hips.

  “This,” she said on a murmur. “This is my favorite part.”

  He knew what she meant. She didn’t mean the position or this particular second in their love-making. He knew she meant the two of them, and all that they’d shared.

  “You,” she said. “You’re my favorite part.”

  He grabbed her waist. Stared in her eyes as she rode him. “You’re mine, too,” he said, his voice dry and husky. “I swear you’re mine, too.”

  She moaned, a throaty, sexy sound that somehow made him crave her even more. He wanted to be buried deep inside her. To do this again and again, over and over, every goddamn night. The heat inside him spread, turning to wildfire. Because of her—her beautiful body, her gorgeous face, and her amazing heart.

  He grasped her hips and flipped her over onto her back. “Need to have you. Need to take you hard now,” he said, parting her legs wider, hooking them up on his shoulders. He had her pinned. At his mercy.

  “I need it, too.”

  He drove into her. She threw her head back, her long neck exposed, her blonde hair spread across the pillow, and her legs on his shoulders. Her mouth fell open, her pants grew heavier, and she was nearing the edge. “Don’t wait.” She moaned. “Don’t wait this time. Just come with me.”

  She’d read his mind. So much for his promise to give her three before his one. He couldn’t hold back if he tried. In seconds, she was trembling in bliss as his own shudders racked through him.

  He collapsed on her, folding her in his arms, not wanting to let go. She snuggled up against him, and he held her tighter.

  “I meant it. You’re my favorite part of this trip,” she said.

  “And you’re mine,” he said.

  He was so tempted to ask what would happen when the trip was over and they returned to Florida. Neither one had voiced it. Neither had acknowledged that they didn’t live that far from each other. Maybe now was the time to do that. A relationship was a scary beast, but maybe they could find a way to try.

  She pushed her rear against him, cuddling closer, wrapping his arm tightly to her chest. “I kind of don’t care about the diamonds anymore,” she murmured.

  He tensed briefly, then tried to let the tightness in his muscles fade. But it was hard. Because he still cared. That was the issue. The more he got lost in her, the more he risked what he loved most. Even if he was dangerously close to feeling something that he hadn’t dared experience in ages.

  She could come and go from the gig. She was free to walk away. He didn’t have the same luxury.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  The music drowned out all other sounds. It pounded in his ears and thrummed in his veins. Loud, obnoxious, and far too techno for his taste. Tonight was hip-hop remix night at Sapphire, and Jake could do without the reverb. But he was determined to tail Monica.

  She was here at Sapphire. On the second-floor balcony. Surveying the scene. Perusing it from behind those black cat’s-eye glasses. A part of him wondered who was following whom. She or him. Because he was tailing her, and she was onto him, and they were circling each other like gunslingers from a distance.

  It had been this way for the last hour.

  After spending the end of the afternoon with Steph, he’d taken off for more recon. She’d needed a break from the case, but he couldn’t afford to take one, so he drove back to International Diamonds. That time Monica was at the shop, in her lab coat, studying jewels. He’d kept an eye on her from down the street, watching her when she left the store and answered a quick call as she walked along the block. When she hung up, she’d unlocked a white hatchback and headed straight to Sapphire.

  He bet the phone call must have come from Ferdinand, the guy with the snake tattoo. A summons to appear before her partner. Surely, she’d be making her way to his upstairs office to plot their next steps in the diamond hunt. From Jake’s post at the bar, he watched her, ready to pounce and follow her trail when she moved.

  Without looking away, he set his water glass down on the counter.

  Buzz.

  His back pocket vibrated, and he swiped his phone from it. Kylie’s name flashed across the screen. Shit. He wanted to talk to her, but as he glanced quickly around the club, he realized there was no way to have this call now. He hit “Ignore,” then tapped out a fast reply, letting her know he’d call her shortly.

  Monica was on the move, and he was not going to lose her this time. He needed to know what she was up to, and he was determined to get a bead on her. Threading his way through the sweaty, dancing, nearly drunk crowd, he scanned the balcony as she strolled near one of the framed works of art. Her back was to him as she chatted with a tall, gray-haired man.

  Tristan and Monica.

  But why would he be here? Seconds later, Ferdinand appeared, joining the two of them. Jake’s head swam with possibilities. But one thing remained starkly clear. He’d have to move quickly to find the diamonds, because the competition was closing in on him.

  Rapidly.

  Steph brushed a ruby-red daub of nail polish over her toenail. With her neck crooked to hold the phone in place, she chatted with her mother from her perch on the end of the hotel bed.

  “How is everything going with Lance?” she asked in a flirty tone. “I know you were working on your downward-facing dog with him.”

  “Should I take your tone to mean you don’t think I could be involved with someone your age?”

  Steph chuckled as she spread the bristles across her big toe. The jewel-toned red was perfect, and she’d always enjoyed having freshly polished toenails before a dive tour. One of her few luxuries. “Not at all. Lance is a cute guy. It wouldn’t be such a bad thing, now would it?”

  Her mother laughed lightly. “If you must know, we were in fact doing yoga together because he wanted me to meet his mother. She’s the landlord who handles the rent for that yoga studio. She also has space to lease inside a boutique in South Beach where she thinks I might be able to sell my necklaces.”

  Steph sat up straight, sliding the brush into the nail polish container. Excitement fluttered through her. “That’s great, Mom. You could have your own place to sell your jewelry. Like a permanent location, so you don’t have to rely on the craft fairs, right?”

  “That’s the goal. It’s not cheap, but I think I should be able to pull together the money for this.”

  “That’s so exciting. I can’t wait for you to have your own shop. That’s what you always wanted.”

  “I know,” her mother said, a note of breathless joy in her tone. The sound thrilled Steph. After the uneven divorce settlement, something like this could really make a difference. Or maybe Eli could make the difference with his newfound generosity. “I saw Eli again today. He said something that made it seem as if he might finally start paying alimony,” Steph offered.

  “Did he now?” Her mother sounded skeptical. “He called me earlier, but I wasn’
t available to talk. I suppose I should call him back. Not that I want his money, but if he’s going to offer it, I wouldn’t say no.”

  “I hope that’s what it’s about. Let me know, OK?”

  “Of course.”

  “Also, he said something about Andrew having a thing for you, Mom,” Steph said as she fanned her toes with her other hand to dry the nails. “Is that for real?”

  Her mother scoffed. “Eli had a streak of jealousy a mile wide. He was always convinced that Andrew had some sort of crush on me. He couldn’t accept that the man merely viewed me as a friend and vice versa. We have always and only just been friends. But does that bother you?” her mother asked gently.

  Steph considered the question for a brief second, then decided that whether Andrew thought her mother both pretty and a friend wasn’t important. The fact that her stepdad was trying to be a better man was the only thing that mattered. “Nah. Doesn’t bother me at all. It was just one of those random comments,” she said, deciding to let it go.

  “Now, tell me all about the man you mentioned the last time we spoke,” her mom said. “Are you still trysting with him? How is it going?”

  Steph sighed happily.

  She was about to answer with any combination of “better than expected,” “absolutely wonderful,” “I’m falling for him big time,” and then the other one. The one where she revealed her hopes that the two of them could become a real couple when this trip ended. But before she could dive into any of the options for her romantic life, the hotel phone rang.

  “I need to answer that. I’ll chat with you later.”

  After they hung up, Steph grabbed the receiver. The person at the front desk said, “I have a delivery at the front desk for Ms. Steph Anderson.”

  Nerves skittered through her. Who on earth knew that she was here in this hotel? “What is it?”