Diamonds & Desire: The Priceless Collection

by Gill, Angelita

  “Hmm. For your sake, I hope he isn’t just using you. Straight men keep it mysterious about what they want. A constant guessing game.” He turned an observant eye on her. “You’re pretty gaga for him, aren’t you? If I were you, I’d tread carefully with expressing my feelings. Sounds like you’re more friends-with-benefits to me, but Mr. Right Now can totally turn into Mr. Right. Whatever it is, embrace it, Jordana. Hot affairs are underrated.”

  “Maybe a hot affair is exactly what I want. Something exciting, mysterious, and purely sexual. Nothing like what I had with Zack.”

  “Barf. Don’t spoil our afternoon talking about your ex-fiancé.” Casey crossed his arms and made a face, casting off his gaze. “But now that you’ve brought him up...”

  Jordana’s heart seized, and she sensed Casey was about to tell her something she didn’t want to hear. He used to work with her ex. That’s how she met him. She’d accompanied Casey to a happy hour and Zack had been there. Felt like a lifetime ago. A different time. A different her. “Are you going to keep me in suspense, Case? Because I’d rather change the subject unless there’s something vital to share.”

  Unable to keep a secret, her friend uncrossed his arms and leaned his elbows on his knees. “I didn’t want to tell you, but I have a feeling you’ll find out anyway and I’d rather you hear the news from me. Zack sent an email to the boss asking if he there was a possibility of getting his job back.”

  Her brows shot up. Less than a year later and he’d apparently had his fill of life overseas. A little surprised, but not overly so, she asked, “How long have you known?”

  “I found out yesterday. Sounds like that joker is looking to slink into his old life.” Casey leveled his gaze. “You know that might include trying to get you back.”

  Shaking her head, she straightened with renewed strength. “I doubt it. We haven’t spoken since he left. Just because he’s checking to see if he’d have a job waiting doesn’t mean he’ll contact me, too.”

  “True. You okay?”

  Jordana took a deep breath and exhaled. “I’m okay. Honest,” she added at Casey’s skeptical look. “Zack and I are done with a capital D. Even if he came back with a royal title, a million dollars, and super powers I would never take him back. Good to hear he’s still alive though.”

  “Only because I allowed it!”

  Jordana laughed, so grateful she had a friend like Casey. He had all those attributes she’d listed to Logan and then some.

  Eliza came over to tell her they were ready to finalize the sale. Thanking her, Jordana rose and looped her arm in Casey’s as they walked over. “We better get a move on if you’re going to make your date on time. The Apple store guy, right?”

  “Yup. I hope he doesn’t want to talk tech all night long, but he’s so cute I might let him get away with it on the first date.”

  “You let every cute guy get away with anything on a first date.”

  “Touché!”

  As they approached, Eliza picked up the pen for the touchscreen and pointed. “The total is here. Verify and then type in your email address and I’ll have you sign the receipt. We’ll email a copy to you and Mr. Savant.”

  Jordana had to suppress open shock at the total, feeling even more resolute to contribute. “I would like to put the Nicole Miller dress on my credit card.” Eliza and Casey visibly jerked in unison.

  “Miss Shaw,” Eliza gave a smile though her tone expressed her puzzlement. “Mr. Savant instructed the entire sale be put on his line of credit.”

  “I know he did, but I want insist you charge that dress on my Visa,” Jordana insisted, handing her the credit card.

  Casey nudged her with his elbow. “What are you doing?”

  “Shopping,” she replied. Turning, she went and snatched the Tom Fords from Casey’s seat. “And these.”

  “Jordana!” Her friend grabbed her by the shoulders with his slim fingers. “Cease and desist, young lady. I was only kidding about the shoes. Especially if you pay for them.”

  “It’s your birthday in a couple weeks. Consider them an early present.” She nodded at Eliza, who still hadn’t made one move to make changes since Jordana revised the payment arrangements. Obviously the woman didn’t believe her yet.

  “I can’t let you do this,” Casey exclaimed.

  “For heaven’s sake, I’m buying you a pair of shoes, not cutting out my kidney,” she laughed. “I’ve got some extra money in my checking account and for once I want to spend it on something fun. The more you argue, the more you’ll hurt my feelings.”

  Casey opened his mouth, then closed it with a long exhale out his nose. “Well, if you’re trying to bribe me into adoring you more than I already do, it’s working.” He slung his arm around her shoulders with a squeeze. “Go ahead, Eliza. Put those babies on her tab. She’s virtually twisting my arm and I hate pain.”

  Jordana gave the personal shopper an expectant look and finally Eliza relented and rang the beautiful white Nicole Miller gown and Tom Ford shoes separately from the rest. Jordana smiled as she signed the receipt. It felt good to splurge.

  Later that night, Logan called two minutes after nine. Jordana imagined he set an alarm to remind himself to call her since he did so every night at the exact same time.

  “How did the shopping go?” he asked. “I’m guessing it was successful since I got the receipt in my email this afternoon. I thought you were going to buy three dresses but I only see two.”

  She didn’t think he’d pay much attention to what she bought, but since he was such a detail-oriented man, wasn’t surprised he’d noticed. “Oh I did get three. I paid for one myself.”

  “What?” he asked with incredulity. “Why? This was my treat. I thought I made that clear.”

  “You did. Some of the dresses the personal shopper had me try on cost more than my first car,” she said opening her cabinet, craving some sugar. “I wanted the girl to show me the sale rack, but she wouldn’t even tell me where it was.”

  “Jordana,” he’d lightly chastised with a chuckle, “You didn’t have to give one thought to saving my money. You were supposed to go nuts, not go thrifty. Irresponsible spending to your heart’s content.”

  Scooping out the Nutella chocolate with a pretzel, she smiled, “My heart is perfectly content with what I got.”

  A long pause. “I want to see you.”

  “We could video chat,” she suggested in a light tone.

  “That’s not what I had in mind.”

  She knew what he meant. With a smile, she leaned elbows on the counter, stirring the chocolate. “When?”

  “Tonight. I know it’s late, but just the say the word and I’ll come over.”

  The word yes was on the tip of her tongue. Coming over late at night during the week felt like something a friend-with-benefits would do. “Not tonight.”

  “You’re turning me down?”

  She fidgeted, chewing on her bottom lip. What sane woman would say no to Logan? The kind of sane woman who wanted to be more than a fling, that’s who. “It’s late. We both have to get up early. Not to mention it’s almost an hour’s drive to my place from yours.”

  “Then I’ll take the jet.”

  She shook her head. He had to be joking. “Oh yeah? Where would you park it? That’s extreme for a quick visit.”

  “Who says I’d be quick?” he drawled.

  A rush down her spine made her toes curl, but she resisted changing her mind. “Sorry, you’ll have to wait until Saturday.”

  “Hmm I see,” he crooned in her ear. “Well, I’m going to make you pay for making me wait.”

  “Oh really? What sort of payback do you have in mind?”

  She heard the smile in his voice as he replied with, “You’ll see.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Logan hadn’t seen Jordana in six long days, not since the Un
chained benefit last weekend, a night to remember for several reasons. She’d looked stunning in a dark red gown, hair up, lips the color of crimson.

  On their way to the event, he’d gotten his payback by deeply kissing her neck, caressing her knee in that place that drove her wild, grazing her breasts until her nipples were hard, teasing and ravishing her until she was panting and groping for him. He’d guided his hand under her dress, finding her so wet she nearly jumped when he touched her.

  Then he stopped, and moved to sit on the other of the limo with a smug look, the score settled, even though his erect cock strained in his tuxedo pants. Realizing what he’d done, Jordana had playfully, but firmly, damned him to hell. Although his sexual needs had also paid the price, it was worth seeing her all worked up for him. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had that much fun with a woman in a car.

  The Unchained benefit had sobered them up quickly. The devastating reality of modern day slavery had been presented, with the charity asking for donations to aid a cause to save hundreds from such a fate. Moved, Jordana had made a donation of her own, expressing how she wished she could give more. To please her, he told her to name a sum for him to donate, even though he’d already sent a check weeks ago. The double donation was worth seeing the appreciation in her eyes. That night, after making love until they were both exhausted, she’d whispered, snuggling closer, “I’m falling for you, Logan.”

  He’d said nothing in return, even though something had urged him to, and when she rolled to her side to go to sleep, he sensed her disappointment.

  Well, intimacy wasn’t his specialty. Weren’t they just having fun? A voice in the back of his mind said no, while another part of him insisted that’s what he wanted: uncomplicated, lighthearted, mutually satisfying fun.

  Buttoning his cuff link, he made a light jog down the stairs, sighing as he strode to his kitchen. It’d been a long, tiring week and the last thing he needed was somebody who expected more than he was capable of.

  At least the elopement tale had finally died a quiet death; no longer were people asking if there was a whisper of truth to it. He’d kept the whole ordeal from Jordana. Sure, he assumed there would be questions and curiosity about who she was once they started attending parties, but now that people thought he’d practically married her on a whim, there was more buzz than he’d anticipated. He was amazed no one had brought it up to him with Jordana present. While she had not a clue, he picked up on the speculative looks, the murmurs behind his back.

  He didn’t like it.

  For a minute, he considered skipping tonight’s event, and putting some space between he and Jordana. Cool things down. Almost as soon as he thought of it, he dismissed the idea. The consequences he’d pay for missing the award party were not worth the night off. For one, his mother likely would harpoon him in the street.

  After working twelve straight hours, he loathed putting on a tux and a smile. People assumed he played golf and entertained clients all day at cigar clubs. They were seriously mistaken; that was his father. No one outside the company knew what his days were like and no one asked.

  Except Jordana. She asked. But he evaded answering, not eager to bog down their conversations by unloading his daily frustrations.

  Speaking of frustrations, he thought as he heard Jordana’s car pull in the drive, he prayed his mother would be on her best behavior, and since she’d be surrounded by dozens of fellow actors and production staff, he assumed she would be. Too busy to give Jordana her unusually thorough critiquing eye.

  The doorbell rang, door opened. “Logan?”

  “In here.” Heels clicked on the floor and he looked up and saw her reflection in the window.

  His breath caught.

  She wore a long, white silky dress, hugging every curve, flowing around her feet.

  Turning the corner, she smiled, struck a little pose, and gave a turn. “I feel like Greek goddess.”

  With her wavy brown hair down and pinned to cascade down one shoulder, his jaw went slack. “You look it,” he said as he sauntered toward her. “You’re the epitome of angelic. I want to do so many sinful things to you right now.”

  “Oh, I have no doubt.” She gazed up at him with her bright beautiful eyes and linked her arms around his shoulders. She did that thing where she massaged his neck, lightly scratching her nails on his scalp. “I missed you,” she told him.

  “Is that so? It’s only been six days.” God her little massage felt good. He’d missed her too, more than he’d ever say so out loud. He needed her tonight; his only reprieve had been found with her lately. Nothing else came close. By most standards, he could be deemed sexually addicted to Jordana and he often wondered exactly when that would subside. Frowning at the thought of such fixation on one woman, he pulled away. “Don’t get too attached or else you’ll really miss me when I’m in Hong Kong.”

  The smile remained on her lips, but he caught the hurt in her eyes. Just as quickly as he saw it, she recovered. “Right. That’s coming up soon. I’m sure I’ll have had enough of you by then,” she added teasingly. “How was your day?” She smoothed his lapels. “You seem a little tense.”

  She read him too easily. Determined to steer her concern, he fixed a congenial expression on his face. “My day was the same as any other. I’m fine.” Both were white lies, and he could tell she really didn’t buy either of them, so he snaked his hands around the small of her back and kissed her.

  Without hesitation, she yielded, snaking her tongue with his, arousing him with a rocket shot of lust. The dress was so thin, he could feel every inch of her, and he couldn’t tell where the silk ended and her skin began. The curvature of her back, the roundness of her butt, the subtle smell of her soap…

  Pushing her against the counter, he became a man desperate, tugging at her dress. His hunger unleashed and commanded to be fed.

  “Logan,” she chuckled softly. “We can’t. We’ll be late for the plane.”

  He answered with a grunt, and even though she resisted, he couldn’t make himself stop. Too blind, too needful. “It’s okay,” he told her, voice hoarse with desire. “I own the plane.”

  Succeeding at pulling one strap down, with a half-moon of her nipple showing, he dipped his head and pressed kisses on her chest. Sweet, soft, smooth skin. An involuntary groan came from his throat as he tasted her, impatient for more. This is what he needed, not some party. If only she knew how he felt when he was inside her. The comfort, the relief. If only she knew…

  She moaned while he rubbed his arousal on her stomach and dug his hands in her bottom. Desperate, he was just about to hoist her on the counter, rip her dress apart, and enter her sweet thighs when she grasped his hands and stiffened. “Don’t you dare, Logan Savant. I know what you’re thinking.”

  In a haze, he shook his head. “What am I thinking?”

  “You were going to rip my dress open for a quickie,” she smiled.

  Funny how dead on she’d been. Coming out of his frenzied state, he blew out a breath and raked a hand through his hair. You addict. What was he thinking? “You’re right. We should go.”

  Her lips were quivering, chest heaving, as she smoothed her palms down her dress. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

  No. But he’d work on it. “Let’s go.”

  ***

  Because she’d been so anxious to see Logan, Jordana had forgotten she would be surrounded by daytime stars at this affair.

  As soon as they stepped in the ballroom of the luxury hotel, she recognized faces she’d watched on TV in her high school days. The honoree Marguerite Gray was a lovely, regal lady in her seventies, who acted on a couple of different soaps for a total of thirty years. She and Logan had only spoken to her briefly to wish her well, and then spent the rest of the party mingling.

  Susan Lucci posed nearby for a thousand photos, looking gorgeous as she always did. Anthony Geary, the Lu
ke Spencer, was also there. So was Jack Wagner. She’d gasped, and squeezed Logan’s arm as the actor walked by. “It’s Frisco! He was my favorite. He and Felicia used to make me cry!”

  “Who’s Frisco?” Logan asked in droll tone of disinterest in her childish crushes, then snaked a smile.

  He seemed much more like himself now that they’d arrived, almost as if he’d traded one mask for another. At the house, he’d taken her breath away with his sexual fervor, rushing her to submit to him on the kitchen counter. Then he’d snapped out of it as if embarrassed.

  During their short flight, he’d simply held her hand. But what had come over him? She didn’t know, but it made her flush thinking she could bring that out of him. Mental note to wear this dress again.

  Not knowing a soul, but familiar with so many of the party guests, Jordana tampered down her star-struck reactions, and attempted to behave like a woman who was used to a cache of celebrities in one room, many of whom were married to other stars she recognized. More than a few of them greeted Logan with enthusiasm, as he’d grown up before their eyes throughout his mother’s twenty-plus year career on Heart’s Horizon.

  Despite the fun she was having in all this glitter and glam, she knew the best part of the evening would be the end, on the plane, at Logan’s house, in his bed. Or wherever he wanted her. If she hadn’t been aware of how important the event was to Logan’s mother, she would’ve let him tear the dress and ravish her in the kitchen and just stayed home.

  “Logan!”

  He stepped forward and smiled. “Long time no see, Ms. Harris.”

  Jordana recognized the tall, slender, curly-haired brunette who came toward them as Whitney Harris, one of the popular stars from another soap opera. If Jordana wasn’t mistaken, Whitney was engaged to a well-known prime-time series actor. Logan’s smile actually met his eyes for this one as she scampered toward him and kissed his cheeks.