Jealousy & a Jewelled Proposition

by Yvonne Lindsay

  With an answering growl he bent his head, pressing his lips to hers in a hard possession that took her breath away and replaced it with a clawing need that had remained unanswered for eleven long years. She pressed closer into him, shuddering in delight as his arm swept around her waist, drawing her hard against the lean strength of his body.

  She drove her hands up into his hair, clutching him more tightly to her as her hips ground against his erection. She wanted him more than she’d ever wanted anything in her life. Her body remembered his touch, his inexplicable scent, and it excited her even more to feel him and know that she wrought this reaction from him.

  His tongue slid past her lips to meet and duel with hers. Even the taste of him was addictive. She suckled his tongue, drawing him deeper into her mouth the way she craved to draw him deep within her body. A throb of pure lust pulsed within her, sending sensation spiralling through her body, weakening her knees. She buckled, falling back onto the bed, drawing Matt with her, over her.

  She reached for him again, her hands running across his chest, tracing the outline of his nipples, a small smile playing across her lips as she felt them retract and tighten at her touch. She caught his top lip between hers and softly, gently, traced the tip of her tongue along the moist heat of his skin. When he groaned again, she repeated the action, this time taking in his bottom lip, relishing the tremor that ran through his body at her touch.

  Her hands glided down his torso. Lord, he was magnificent. His strength and muscle were overlaid by the goose bumps that rose on his flesh as she outlined his ribs, then dipped one hand lower to his belly. She travelled lower still to the ‘V’ of his groin that had so enticed her only two days ago.

  She slid past the still-damp constriction of the waist band of his swim trunks to find the hard silken length of him. At the light brush of her fingertips she felt his arousal buck against her palm, and she closed her fist around his shaft, sheathing him with a gentle stroke.

  His body stiffened at her touch, as if he was about to pull away, but she strengthened the stroke of her hand, drawing to the tip before sliding like a hot cuff to his base again.

  Rachel caught his lower lip between her teeth and sucked against it in a rhythmic motion that mirrored the movement of her hands, increasing in pressure and speed until she lost all track of intent and could focus only on the sensations that wound tighter and tighter still deep within her core.

  His body began to tremble at her assault and he pressed against her hand, his hips straining as if to amplify her actions. She felt him grow even harder, his tip swelling, then suddenly he thrust hard against her hand, a raw groan ripping from his throat.

  “No!”

  Matt broke free and staggered to his feet. His body screamed in denial, begging the release her touch promised. This was wrong. It was all wrong. She was Rachel, his son’s nanny, his housekeeper’s daughter! He’d taken advantage of her trust once before, when she’d been just shy of eighteen and he twenty-three—a young man who should have known better. He would not do it again.

  “What is it? What’s wrong?” Rachel’s voice intruded on the fog that encapsulated his mind.

  “You can ask that?” he growled.

  He flung an angry scowl at her and forced himself to ignore the flush of desire across her sun-tinted skin and the pointed tips of her nipples, which begged for his touch. He clenched his hands into fists to halt his instinct to reach out and gather her silky curves against his now bereft body.

  “Matt, please. Don’t fight this thing between us. At least let us have this.”

  His eyes locked on her lips. Lips that were swollen with their kisses, lips that begged to be kissed again.

  “No. This was a mistake. I should never have touched you.”

  He spun and turned away. He needed distance—right now.

  “But I touched you. I wanted to do it, Matt. You wanted it too. How can you say it’s a mistake? We’re consenting adults. There’s no reason why we can’t—”

  “No reason? For me there’s every reason. Aside from the fact that as your employer I’m accountable for you, I have no desire to be caught up in another scandal—let alone another relationship. Can you imagine what the press would do if they found out we’d been intimate after your high school dance and that you were now working for me? Under my roof every night? You’d be roasted in the media. Give me some credit for taking responsibility for what’s mine to protect.”

  “I’m not asking for your protection, dammit! Matt, I lo—”

  “Don’t. Don’t say it.”

  Rachel went up onto her knees, totally unashamed of her near nakedness. “So you’re running away again?”

  “I don’t run, Rachel. I create distance when it’s necessary.”

  “Matt, get real. When it comes to running away you’re an emotional marathon champion. It’s okay to face the truth. We’ve always been like this together. What happened eleven years ago was going to happen sooner or later. And it will always be there between us. It’s not a crime to give in to that attraction.”

  “It is for me.”

  As her bedroom door slammed shut behind him, Rachel sank back on her heels. Her mind reeled with his rejection, yet her body still screamed for his touch. Slowly she got up from the bed gathered her sundress and bra from the floor and redressed. Somehow, someday, she’d get through to him. He’d responded like a flare to her touch. As much as he tried to deny it, his attraction for her equalled hers for him. That much between them, at least, had never changed.

  When she came through to the lounge Matt was dressed in shorts and a polo shirt and stood at the door, looking out across the gardens. As she approached him he turned to face her, his face an inscrutable mask. Even though he was dressed casually there was something about the set of his shoulders and the expression in his grey eyes that told her his defences were up in full force. She supposed she should take some consolation in that he thought he needed to armour himself against her.

  “I’ve contacted our pilot. We leave in the morning.”

  “So soon?” Shock poured through her with the efficiency of iced water. “But what about the diamond?”

  “If my transactions with Sullivan aren’t complete by morning I’ll arrange for the stone to be safe-handed directly to Danielle Hammond in Australia.”

  “And the trip to the pearl farm? We’re expected there tomorrow.”

  “So eager to see Temana Sullivan again, Rachel? Don’t tell me you’re planning on using him as a backstop because I said no.”

  Rachel saw red. How dare he tar her with the same brush as his ex-wife? But she drew short of bringing Marise’s name into the mix. “Don’t judge me by other people’s standards. I was thinking nothing of the sort. You’re overreacting.”

  “Overreacting? I don’t think so. As you’ll remember, this was supposed to be a business trip, not pleasure. If you want to see Sullivan again you can do it on your own time.”

  “For the last time, I’m not interested in him.” It’s only ever been you, she wanted to scream but knew it would be useless. “What about Blake? He’s having such a wonderful time. This was a perfect opportunity for the two of you to spend more time together.”

  “Blake’s young. He’ll cope.”

  And you say you’re not running away? The words remained locked in her throat. As much as he denied it, Matt was running away again—from her. And worse, with her actions she’d destroyed the precious little time he’d been enjoying with Blake. Sadly, there was nothing she could do now but accede to his instructions.

  “I’ll start packing his things. What time do we have to be ready?”

  “By ten, and don’t worry about his things. I’ll take care of them.”

  If he’d slapped her with a chilled wet flannel, his rejection couldn’t have been more complete. Cold fingers of failure, tinged with regret, tightened like a fist around her heart. He was so closed up emotionally, driven by those damned diamonds and what Howard Blackstone had done to
him and his family, that there was room for nothing and no one else in his heart. The knowledge that she’d been instrumental in effectively sealing up that window to his heart was a heavy mantle to bear.

  Five

  As their jet lifted off from Papeete’s airport at midday the next day, Matt let his head fall back against his chair in relief. By later this evening they’d be back home in Devonport, and life as he had come to know it would resume. The past twenty-four hours had been absolute torment. He was used to denial; he’d lived with it for longer than he cared to remember. But the systematic breakdown of his marriage with Marise prior to her jaunt to Australia was not on a par with the craving for Rachel that shredded his very soul.

  He could barely look at her without reliving the feel of her touch on his body. He hardened in response to the memory. Yesterday had been categorical proof he should have trusted his instincts and stayed well away. Even after all this time, she remained his one great weakness, and weakness couldn’t be tolerated. Under any circumstance.

  It would have been all too easy to lose himself in the comfort of her body. To forget the infidelity of his wife, the failure of his marriage, as well as his own failures as a husband and father, and to take whatever respite he could. But he refused to allow himself the pleasure, however fleeting it would have been. Rachel deserved more than that. Despite whatever confused link she imagined between them, she did not deserve someone like him.

  He focussed instead on the rectangular shape of the box in his breast pocket, the box in which the final Blackstone Rose diamond lay. Sullivan had called him and suggested they meet for dinner again last night, as the monetary side of their transaction had been approved. For as long as Matt could remember, his father had been passionate about the recovery of the Blackstone Rose stones. Now Matt had achieved what his father had never been able to do. All his life he’d strived to prove himself worthy of Oliver Hammond, worked hard to be the son the man deserved. In this, at least, he hadn’t failed.

  The Auckland evening was bleak with darkness and frigid driving rain when they landed at Auckland International Airport. As they climbed into their limousine for the journey home, Matt flipped open his cell phone to call his parents.

  “It’s Matt. Are you two busy tonight?”

  “No, we’re not. Aren’t you home early? I thought you were going to be gone a few more days.”

  Matt ignored his mother’s reference to the early demise of the first break he’d had in years. “Do you mind if we swing around? I have something special to show Dad.”

  “Of course you can. You know you’re always welcome. Are you bringing Blake and Rachel, too? Did you eat on the plane? Why don’t you all stay for a light supper?”

  Matt let his mother’s voice wash over him in a flood of motherly concern. If he had his way he’d be leaving Rachel at her apartment, but he knew if he did, it would elicit unwanted explanation. Explanation he had no intention of making.

  “That would be great, Mum. We’ll see you in about forty-five minutes to an hour, depending on traffic.”

  He slid his cell phone back into his pocket, anticipation thrumming through his veins at the prospect of seeing his father’s reaction to the diamond. Ever since the night thirty years ago when Howard Blackstone had accused his father of stealing the Blackstone Rose necklace, it had been Oliver’s self-appointed mission to find it. The accusation had rankled between the brother-in-law business rivals for many years, and every so often was raked over by the press, eager to flesh out an old story for its scandal value. Now Matt had categorical proof that his father had been innocent.

  “We’re going to your parents’?” Rachel’s voice interrupted his thoughts.

  He looked across the dim interior of the car. She’d barely addressed him since he’d told her they were leaving Tahiti and frankly, that was the way he preferred it.

  “Yes.”

  “Are you sure you want me there?”

  “My mother included you in her invitation.”

  “Oh, okay, then.”

  She settled back in her seat for the rest of the journey, although Matt could sense she wanted to say more.

  When they pulled up outside the single-storey unit in the luxury assisted-living complex where his parents resided, the tension inside him ratcheted up a few more notches. Since his father’s stroke five years ago, little had given him pleasure. Always a hands-on man, he hated the disability that now left him paralysed down one side and unable to speak. Oliver Hammond had given so much to both his adopted sons; Matt was both humbled and deeply satisfied to be able to return a small measure of that love now.

  After giving his mother a quick hug at the front door, Matt went straight to his father, who sat in the elegant sitting room in his wheelchair. He squatted down in front of Oliver Hammond.

  “Dad? I have something to show you.”

  He reached into his pocket and drew out the velvet case, holding it on the flat of his palm.

  “You know how four of the Blackstone Rose diamonds were found among Marise’s things when she died?” Matt prompted.

  His father nodded his head slowly, never once taking his gaze from the black velvet case.

  “I have the last stone.”

  He put the case in his father’s lap and opened it, watching his father’s expression closely. He was unprepared for the raw sound that erupted from his father’s throat, the sheen of tears that reflected in the older man’s eyes, for the grief he read there. He’d expected jubilation, excitement, perhaps smugness, but not overwhelming sorrow.

  “Dad, are you all right? This is good news. It means we have proof Blackstone lied all those years. You’ve been vindicated, totally and utterly. When I make a press statement to say we have located all of the major stones from the Blackstone Rose, the whole world will know the truth.”

  His father shook his head from side to side.

  “What, Dad? You don’t want me to make a statement? I don’t understand.” Matt rose to his feet, his eyes locked on his father’s face. His mother’s hand on his shoulder made him turn.

  “Son, he is happy you brought this to show him, but it brings back old memories. Hurtful ones. Despite the fact he was the one who cut off contact with Sonya and Ursula he never stopped missing his sisters. You have no idea how he grieved when Ursula drowned. He blamed Howard for the rift that grew between the families, but he blamed himself, too. Wished he’d done more. We all wished we’d done more. It’s enough for us now to know the diamonds have been recovered. Let’s not turn this into another tabloid frenzy, Matt. Your father’s health, and mine, couldn’t stand it.”

  “Are you absolutely certain about that, Mum?” Matt couldn’t believe he was being actively discouraged from publicly exonerating his father from a crime that many had said he was justified to commit.

  “Yes, I’m certain.”

  “Tell me what exactly happened that night the necklace went missing.” Matt looked up at his mother. “I know what the papers have said over the years, but you’ve never really talked about it.”

  Katherine sighed and looked to her husband. Oliver nodded slowly once, and reached his one good hand out to finger the stone, tears still rolling one by one down his cheeks.

  “I persuaded your father we should attend Ursula’s thirtieth birthday party. Oliver wasn’t keen on going. There’d always been a note of competitive tension between him and Howard, which only got worse after Jeb died, but I felt it was important for Ursula that we be there. She’d been so fragile since James had been kidnapped and with Ryan being born only a year after…” Katherine’s voice choked up a little. “We didn’t call it postnatal depression back then. Maybe if people had been more open about things she’d still be alive today.

  “Anyway, Ursula was so happy we made it over and, oh, she looked amazing that night. With the Blackstone Rose around her neck she was the epitome of Howard’s success. I wondered how comfortable she was with the necklace. She kept fingering it during the course of the eve
ning. It was quite a heavy, ostentatious thing. It must have been quite a burden around her slender neck. She kept, you know, lifting it away from her skin, playing with the clasp—adjusting it, as if it was coming undone all the time.

  “As the night drew on she started to drink heavily. I was surprised to see her like that. She’d always been the perfect hostess—seeing to everyone’s needs, making sure everything was just so—but that night she left everything to Sonya. When the dancing started she was near the pool, and Oliver noticed she was a bit unsteady on her feet. He went to guide her away from the edge but before he could get to her she fell in. Everyone was so shocked. No one moved at first—not even Howard. Oliver raced forward to help her from the water. He was furious with Howard for letting her get drunk in the first place and accused him of being incapable of looking after anything properly. As you can imagine, Howard was none too impressed.”

  Katherine reached over and took Oliver’s paralysed hand in hers, stroking the mottled skin gently, her eyes distant as she recalled the events of the evening.

  “Sonya and I helped Ursula upstairs, but she twisted away and shouted that she wanted to go back to the party, that Howard expected it of her. Obviously she was in no condition to do so and I have to admit we did kind of manhandle her a bit up the stairs and to her room. I imagine that must have been when the necklace fell off because later the pool was drained and checked thoroughly, as were the grounds where Ursula had been during the evening, and of course there was no sign of it.

  “Once she was in her room she started to cry. It was heartbreaking. She just couldn’t stop. It was as if all the stress and misery of the past two years had come to a head. She was inconsolable. Sonya and I undressed her and dried her and put her to bed. Howard came up to check on her, asking where we’d put the necklace. Neither of us could remember when we’d last seen it on her. Of course, Howard left us straight away saying he had to find it. He wasn’t terribly sympathetic to Ursula, not that it surprised me, but I had expected better of him. Eventually she fell asleep and Sonya told me she’d stay with her. I went back downstairs. That was when I heard the shouting.”