“You have got to be kidding,” Diamond countered, less angry with his insubordination than the fact that he’d hit the nail on the proverbial head. “Obviously someone has told you that you’re God’s gift to women…and you believed them.”
Jackson’s grin was cocky yet genuine. “I’ve been considered a present a time or two.”
“Well, the only thing that’s a wrap right now is this conversation. You might want to brush off your résumé because after I have a little chat with the owner you’ll probably be unemployed.” Diamond turned and headed for the door.
“Wait,” Jackson said, reaching out and stopping her. She looked down at the hand squeezing her arm and up into pleading eyes. “Please,” he continued, releasing her, while imagining the confusion and laughter that would ensue among his men if she went out there demanding to speak to the owner. “I promise to behave.” Now it was Diamond’s turn to cross her arms. Her look showed that she didn’t believe him. “I need this job,” he finished.
“Then you need to climb out of your Neanderthal cave and realize that the days of women’s butts being patted in the workplace and sexual innuendo being the standard are long gone.”
“Got it.”
“I hope you do. Because one more ill-mannered remark and you’re history.”
“I’ll be the perfect gentleman from here on out.”
“See that you do.” With that, Diamond turned and headed back through what would eventually be the dining room and into the future top-of-the-line kitchen. Jackson answered her questions, professionally and knowledgeably, showing a strong command of the entire project as they moved from the restaurant to the gift shop, then down the hall to the retail offices. Finally, they crossed the lobby and entered the lounge that was situated across from the restaurant. They crossed the Plexiglas-covered dance floor, part of which would house an aquarium, to an expansive DJ booth—one of the few parts of the room that looked completed. Diamond walked up to a large control board. “What’s all this?” she asked.
“Magic,” Jackson simply replied. “This system allows the controller to create whatever atmosphere that’s desired, whether its disco, blue light in the basement, rave, holiday.”
Diamond lightly ran her hands over the knobs. “Looks complicated.”
“It is.” Jackson closed the distance between them. “May I?” he asked, stepping up to the controls and directly beside Diamond. She nodded and took a step away from him. “I was a DJ back in my college days. And a bit of a geek.”
Diamond said nothing, although she thought that “geek” and “Jackson” in the same sentence sounded like bad English.
“This controls the lighting,” he began, his voice the epitome of expertise. “See how it goes from bright to dim? And we can also adjust the colors, bounce them off the walls, ceiling, floors or a combination of the three.” Diamond watched as Jackson’s large, tapered fingers deftly moved from one button to the next. “There are currently eight thousand songs programmed into this computer,” he continued, taking a step toward Diamond to punch a button in front of her. “Check this out.” Jackson leaned forward and unconsciously placed a hand on her waist. “I’m sorry,” he said, quickly removing it. Diamond immediately missed his touch. He turned on a computer, entered a few commands, and within seconds a list of music genres filled the screen. “The sound system is incredible. What type of music do you like?”
“All kinds,” Diamond replied. Jackson clicked on a link and began scrolling through songs. “Especially upbeat,” she quickly added. The lights were dim, and the last thing Diamond needed was a love song to conjure up images of a certain male body, sans clothing, hard and ready for love.
Jackson flashed a knowing smile. He clicked on an album cover, and soon the sounds of music filled the room. Jackson played with the controls and psychedelic colors bounced off the walls. He flipped another switch, and smoke began swirling down from the ceiling.
“Wow!” Diamond said as she looked at the magic Jackson had spoken of and imagined the room packed with happy dancers. She smiled as Jackson bobbed his head and sang in tune to a popular song. Watching the way he moved his hips to the beat, Diamond could well imagine just how exciting it would be to spend a night with him. Would be? Girl, what in the heck are you thinking? There would absolutely, positively be no woulda, shoulda, coulda with this hunkalicious guy standing beside her. Diamond well knew his kind: cocky and arrogant, probably certain that he could get her into his bed. She was certain of that, too, but that was beside the point. Fortunately, she had an iron-clad rule to save her from herself. She never, ever dated anyone in or near the workplace. After a two-month courtship with a former sales manager had ended in a stalker situation with law enforcement involved, she’d vowed to keep her personal and professional lives very separate.
“Now watch how the DJ has the ability to completely change the mood.” Once again, Jackson clicked on the song list. The sounds of a sultry saxophone filled the room, the smooth jazz tune evoking images of lovemaking more than words ever could.
Diamond was convinced she was losing it. How else could she explain the fact that she was now undressing Jackson with her eyes? It was a good thing that his back was to her as he continued to fiddle with the knobs—a good thing because it gave her several uninterrupted seconds to take in his broad shoulders, strong back, narrow waist, perfect butt, strong thighs, long legs and big feet. As she continued to stare at his perfect backside encased in jeans, Diamond could barely remember her name.
She looked up in time to see the room darken; tiny lights resembling twinkling stars filled the ceiling. The air in the room shifted along with the lighting. Diamond felt it and believed that Jackson did, too. Attraction crackled like a burning log between them. And what happened to the air in the room? He turned and looked at her, his gaze penetrating, yet unreadable. Diamond forced herself not to look away, tried to maintain the stare, but again…she couldn’t. Her eyes dropped to those delectable lips that sat under an aquiline nose, just as Jackson flicked out his tongue to moisten them. The sax sizzled from the speakers, wrapping them in a sensual cocoon, a world of their own. It was as if time stopped, along with Diamond’s rational thinking. Because for the life of her she couldn’t think of anything more logical to do than to kiss those lips, to crush the nipples that were even now hardening at the mere thought of being touched against Jackson’s hard chest.
She took a step.
Jackson’s eyes narrowed as he watched her come closer. He looked at her lips, slightly parted with desire. Wanting him was written all over her face. His message was being proclaimed from an area decidedly lower, by a rapidly increasing bulge in the front of his jeans.
He took a step.
They now stood just inches apart, neither moving, barely breathing. At the risk of having to fire himself for insubordination, Jackson reached out and ran a finger along Diamond’s jawline. His touch was more electric than the guitar that now accompanied the sax. She licked her lips and suppressed a shiver. He watched, wondering how they tasted, those lips, wanting to know how she tasted. Her eyes flickered shut and then back open, even as her head tilted seemingly of its own accord. To hell with stalking ex-coworkers and iron-clad declarations. She would be a rule breaker, too. Thoughts of consequences could come later. Right now all she wanted were his lips…on hers…now! He bent his head down. One more step and the kiss would begin. Just one more step…
“There you are!” Taylor said as she entered the room. And right behind her? Donald and Donovan: father and son.
Damn!
Diamond scurried from the intimacy of the DJ booth and Jackson’s captivating eyes, looking as professional as she could with her body on fire. She ignored Donald’s scowl and Donovan’s smirk and tried to remember how to construct a sentence. Subject, verb, noun, Diamond. Subject! Verb! Noun!
Jackson came to her rescue,