He smiled.
And what a smile it was.
Amusement creased his eyes, softening his jawline and bringing forth a dimple to his cheek. A dimple. As if the man didn’t have enough swooning power over the female population. It transformed his striking, almost harsh, features into something warm and touchable.
“I find it very interesting,” he murmured, “that I irritate you so much. Is it about the way I do business?”
“No,” she lied.
“So it’s personal.”
She blinked nervously. He was close but not close enough to invade her space. Yet she could sense the warmth from his broad, impeccably suited body, the single-minded focus as his eyes freely roamed over her face, coming to rest at a spot dangerously close to her mouth.
She tried to swallow but it felt like dust clogged her throat. “I’m just here to do my job, Mr Vance.”
“Really.”
His scepticism irritated: it was obvious he trusted her as much as she did him. Still, she met his considering look with one of her own, willing calm into every inch of her humming body. “Yes. Shall we get back to your investment, Mr Vance?”
“Jake.” In an echo of his movements in the Blackstone’s basement, he pulled his phone out and checked the screen. “I need to know how the family interacts,” he said as he pushed a few buttons. “I’m not going to invest in Blackstone’s if they can’t control their in-fighting. And then there’s Matt Hammond, a man who’s publicly and repeatedly voiced his hatred of Blackstone’s and who now owns ten percent of the shares.”
Holly paused, see-sawing between honesty and loyalty. This was another test. He already knew the answers but wanted to see how far she’d go.
Damn the man.
“You know the Hammonds and Blackstones have a long and tragic history,” she said tightly to his impassive face. “Yes, Marise used to work for Blackstone’s. Yes, she married into the one family Howard despised. And on her death—”
“Ursula’s jewellery and diamonds went to Matt and Marise’s son, Blake.” Almost as if bored with the interrogation, he studied the passing traffic as they exited the Harbour Bridge. “But one diamond’s still out there.”
“Still lost,” Holly conceded, stopping before she added, just like James Blackstone.
Lost.
A strange shiver brushed over Jake’s skin, like the fingers of a dead woman grazing his conscience.
A lost diamond. A missing Blackstone.
The awful comparison sneaked into his head and lingered as he absently rubbed his arm where his so-called mother had dug in her fingers, the death grip from that frail hand suddenly sharp, astute.
Don’t hate me, Jake. Her eyes had taken on a fevered quality, wide in her sunken face. I wanted you so much. I love you more than anything.
And now here he was. Not lost any more. So why did he still feel like some shipwreck survivor adrift on the sea?
Two hours later, a pregnant Jessica Cotter Blackstone had met Jake and Holly at the back door to the exclusive Blackstone’s Sydney store and guided them to a private showing room.
Holly shifted in her chair and recrossed her legs. Up until now, she’d always liked this room for its ample, airy space. But with Jake sitting so close, even the long glass-topped mahogany display table wasn’t sufficient to ward off the strange little buzzes zapping her body.
She glanced to her right, to the huge photo of Briana Davenport above a display cabinet. Dubbed the Face of Blackstone’s, the model was glancing into the camera over one shoulder, a sensual smile on her lips, drop diamonds shining from her ears, matching the sparkle in her gorgeous eyes. Holly had seen Jessica look at the picture when they’d first arrived, then apologetically at Jake. He’d merely shrugged, but Holly had watched the way his attention lingered on the stunning face of his former flame.
She shook her head. The man had dated practically every available, gorgeous socialite in Sydney. He was a confirmed bachelor. A confirmed serial dater, her all-knowing flatmate Miko would say with a toss of her jet-black hair. Jake had proved her rich man–supermodel theory in spades when he’d taken up with Briana. With the press alluding to marriage at one stage, it must have cut the man’s ego deeply when she’d thrown him over for millionaire lawyer Jarrod Hammond who was also, ironically, Matt Hammond’s brother. Jake had been suspiciously absent from the spotlight in the weeks that followed…unlike the Blackstones, with their undeserved trials and tribulations.
More than once her mind had lingered on the comparison between AdVance Corp and Blackstone’s. Just like Howard, Jake Vance had started from nothing. But where Jake was a lone wolf, Howard Blackstone and his family had created a dream, nurturing it into the multibillion-dollar business it was today. Despite that success, people had loved to hate Howard Blackstone. There was that something in Jake Vance, too, something that made her quake. It was the same ruthlessness, the cold look in their eyes. Even Max, with his skilled ability to diffuse the most volatile of arguments, wasn’t exempt from Howard’s displeasure. And like Howard, once crossed, nothing short of total destruction would satisfy Jake Vance. She had no doubt if you incurred the man’s displeasure, you’d know about it.
So what will he do to you when he finds out you’re nothing more than a corporate spy?
Her heart, already pounding with nervousness, started to throb in earnest. If he found out. If.
Jessica finally returned with a velvet tray and Holly determinedly ignored the flutter of helplessness starting in her belly. Instead, she watched Jake, who was concentrating intently on Jessica as she explained the cutting process, the rarity of pink diamonds and alluvial deposits. When she referenced something in the store brief she’d prepared, he looked down at the document and Holly became all too well aware of his hair as it slid over his forehead. It was too long to be called a military cut, too short to be completely unconventional.
It looked clean. Shiny. She resisted the sudden urge to lean forward and sniff. Instead she remained still, only half-surprised that her breath quivered on the way in.
His tall, commanding presence, so supremely confident in an expensive dark grey suit, had her itching to scoot her chair back to the outer edges of her comfort zone. He might be an arm’s length away, but she was too close to escape the aura that radiated from him like some kind of will-numbing drug.
Jake shook off the tiny prickles of sensation from Holly’s scrutiny and deliberately focused on the tray of diamonds before him. As Jessica turned a huge yellow-stoned ring deftly into the light, it created a kaleidoscope of rainbow shards across the room. So this was the fuel for Howard’s obsession. If he’d been hoping for answers in the multifaceted polished depths, he was disappointed.
“Blackstone’s is famous for our candies,” Jessica said, replacing the ring and picking up a blue-stoned bracelet set in silver. “Pale-canary to deep-sun yellow. Pinks, blues, greens. If I know Holly, she’s already told you about our wares.”
Jake zoomed back in on his too-silent assistant and directed his question at her. “How much are pink diamonds worth?”
He noted the way she shoved back her hair, the jerky movement containing an underlying tension. Yet her eyes were as sharp and clear as the gemstones he’d been viewing. “At a 2004 Sotheby’s auction, a 351 round 1.23 intense purplish pink went for just over a hundred and forty-three thousand dollars a carat. Minimum bids started at a hundred thousand dollars a carat.”
“So something like—say, the Blackstone Rose, would be…?”
“The four round trillion-cut diamonds were seven carats each, the pear-shape center, ten. At the time