The Sapphire Affair (A Jewel Novel Book 1) (17 page)

Madeline gestured excitedly as they returned to the toy fest. “Did you get it? The piece de resistance?”

“I did,” Monica said in a sex-kitten voice. She set down the big box, dipped her hand inside, and took out a small black box that looked distinctly like the one Eli had given Steph with the diamond in it. Her spine straightened and adrenaline tripped through her blood. Monica popped open the top, and the women gasped.

“Oh, it’s gorgeous.”

It was gorgeous.
Blinding
was another word that worked. Brilliant, too. Inside the box was a jewel, but it was bigger than the one her stepfather had given her. Brighter, even.

But something about it looked decidedly fake.

Leave no trace.

That was his mantra, and he had successfully lived up to it tonight, closing and locking the safe, rearranging the books in front of it, and shutting the office door behind him. He exited the house through the bathroom window, crouched along the roof, and climbed into the tree. Mere seconds later, he walked across the spongy grass, having covered his tracks.

OK, he didn’t entirely leave no trace. He’d taken something from the safe. He
had
to show Steph.

Isla made grabby hands, and Monica gave her the small box. “Look. It’s rhinestone-studded. Eli’s going to be so surprised. He’s going to love it so much.”

Isla pulled the jewel out of the box.

No. Please no. Oh God. Say it isn’t so.

“I can’t wait to give this to him, Monica. He loves this kind of play. He’s going to be so excited. We’re going to use it tonight.”

Steph smacked her forehead. “Oh, excuse me. I forgot I have a late-night dive. Must go.”

Intel was one thing. TMI was entirely another.

CHAPTER TWENTY

She marched down the stone path, around the front of the house, and walked smack into the hardest, firmest chest she’d ever felt.

“Did you find the jelly beans?”

“No. I stumbled into a gaggle of middle-age women in bandage dresses with huge egg-shaped rings ogling dolphins, rabbits, and butt plugs. Then, I got stymied by a sex-toy mistress, who followed me to the ladies’ room—”

“She didn’t join you in there, did she?”

Steph swatted his arm. Jake’s very strong, very muscular, very toned arm. “No! She didn’t join me in the bathroom. But she waited for me. To give me a goddamn sex toy,” she said, thrusting the velvet pouch at him.

Jake raised his eyebrows. “Tell me more.”

She shot him a stare that could crumble steel. “Go ahead. Look inside. Feel free.”

He shrugged happily and opened the drawstring. “That’s what we call sneaking in through the back door.”

Despite her irritation, she managed a small laugh. “For a minute there, I almost thought we had the answer to where the diamonds are. But this gem is fake.”

“Somewhere out there, though, someone is making gold-plated dildos. Diamond-encrusted vibrators. Rabbits filled with real pearls,” he said, shaking his head in mock wistfulness as they headed to her car. “Speaking of diamonds in the house, did you have any success?”

She cut him off, slicing her hand through the air. “No. No. No. And more no. Did you not hear me? The sex-toy mistress practically clung to me, and then I was very nearly subjected to a discussion of Eli’s predilections.” She dragged a hand through her hair in frustration. “I did not find the bowlful of diamonds, so we’ll have to go back again, and my champagne buzz is nearly gone, so I could really use a Cherry Popsicle.”

“Is that code for a ruby-encrusted—”

“No. There’s a bar along the beach that serves frozen cherry margaritas and they’re called Cherry Popsicles because they’re made around a frozen block of cherry ice, and when you get to the end you can suck on the Popsicle in the middle of it, and if I do not get one stat, my brain will be permanently branded with images of my stepfather’s fiancée holding
that thing
,” she said, gesturing wildly at the black pouch.

“Fair enough. To the Cherry Popsicle purveyor we go. Do they have ice cream? I do love a good ice-cream cone.”

“I’ll find you ice cream, Jake.”

“By the way, what’s a bandage dress? Is that like a dress made out of Band Aids?”

She heaved a sigh. “No. It’s a style. It’s very clingy and tight, but the fabric is sturdy,” she said, stopping to point to her breasts as if to show how a bandage dress would hug her curves.

He cleared his throat, and when she looked up, she saw him looking down.

At her boobs.

“I forgot. You’re a boob starer. Didn’t mean to tempt you, since you’re trying to stay on the wagon.”

He held up his hands in mock surrender. “One, you say that like it’s a bad thing. Two, you have fantastic breasts. And three, do you blame me? You were waving your hands in front of them. I had no choice but to stare at them.”

She tugged his arm and resumed her walk, wishing she didn’t like it so much that he enjoyed the view.

Once inside the car, he smiled at her like a cat who’d caught the tastiest mouse in the universe.

“What?” She held her arms out wide. “What’s the smile for? The velvet pouch? The boob stare?”

“Just wanted to say thank you.”

“For what?” she asked, furrowing her brow.

His grin spread across his whole handsome face. It lit up his eyes. They twinkled with mischief. “The diamonds aren’t in the house. We don’t have to go back.”

She cocked her head to the side. “What do you mean?”

“You did an excellent job.”

“At what?” The hair on her arms stood on end.

“At getting info about the first floor of the house.”

“Jake, what are you getting at? Just say it,” she said. “What do you mean about the first floor?”

He shrugged happily. “I took care of the second floor.”

Her eyes popped, her jaw dropped, and her brain went haywire. “What?”

“I climbed in through the second-story window and checked out his office. Want to know what he keeps in his safe?”

Equal parts surprise and curiosity ripped through her. “You were in there the whole time I was there, and you didn’t tell me?”

“I wanted you to be able to act natural and not worry about my poking around upstairs and trying to break into a safe.”

“You tricked me again!” she shouted, grateful they were in her car, parked at the end of the block.

“That’s one way to look at it. But I like to think I was protecting you.”

“From what?” She crossed her arms.

“From you inadvertently letting on that the guy you’re teamed up with was sneaking around upstairs and cracking your stepdad’s safe.”

She shook her head and breathed out hard. She couldn’t believe that’s what he had been up to while she was parked in the midst of the sex-toy ladies. But yet, she couldn’t deny his plan was brilliant. Nor could she deny her curiosity any longer.

“What did you find?”

He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a chocolate bar. The wrapper said it was from Ecuador. “He has a few dozen of these in his safe, along with his passport. I grabbed one from the top. Didn’t want him to notice they were gone and start worrying.”

She studied the chocolate, tapping the bar. “That’s the chocolate he invested in that went belly-up, right?”

“Guess he likes it, and held onto a few for himself,” Jake said with a shrug.

She laughed. “He always did like his sweets.”

“Can’t blame him on that account.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Steph sucked on a cherry Popsicle.

Steph sucked on a cherry Popsicle.

Steph sucked on a cherry Popsicle.

Try as he might, his brain was stuck on repeat. His eyeballs were glued to the scene in front of him. Steph, licking the Popsicle. Her tongue swirling along the length of the cherry ice. He shifted on the picnic table bench, trying to adjust his shorts.

Futile effort.

It was fucking tight in there. He’d been hard since he first saw her tonight, then again when she waved her hands in front of her fantastic breasts, and now ever since she’d started licking the frozen treat.

Then she emitted a moan of culinary delight. And rolled her eyes.

Rock. Hard.

Not. Fair.

He did not know why he’d suggested they focus on just work. She was all he could focus on right now. He could barely remember why getting involved on a job was a bad idea. Couldn’t possibly be a bad idea. His body thought it was a very good idea.

“Enjoying yourself?” he asked as he finished his mint chocolate chip ice cream.

“This is heavenly. You really should have one.”

“Yeah, I should. But one of us needs to drive,” he said, taking the final bite of his cone. “Besides, this mint chip rocks my world.”

“Told you so,” she said, waggling her eyebrows. “I can’t believe you’re not going to try a Popsicle, though. What if you had one, and then we talked about our plans for an hour, and then you could drive?”

“Nah. Can’t take a chance. But by all means, continue fellating the Popsicle.”

“I do believe I will.” She drew the Popsicle in deep and sucked long and hard.

He scrubbed a hand over his jaw. “Killing me,” he muttered.

She cocked her head to the side. Affixed a quizzical look. “How am I killing you, Jake? I thought you wanted to go back to
just work
?”

“I said that. I meant it. I also find you insanely attractive. Therefore, the conundrum.”

“A conundrum indeed,” she said, flicking her tongue across the ice.

A night breeze blew by, and strands of her hair danced lazily around her shoulders. He supposed he could have looked away. He could have gazed contemplatively at the crescent moon and its sickles of light spotlighting the vast waters at night. Or at the vacationers strolling by along the beach. Even at the tiki torches that flickered at the edge of the bar that sat perched on the sugary white sand.

But she was some kind of temptation, and looking away was damn impossible. He steepled his hands together and did his darnedest to focus on work. “Let’s talk about chocolate bars, and real estate, and art galleries.”

“My stepdad must really like those chocolate bars to keep them socked away in a safe. But it’s totally his style. He had a Tupperware container full of his favorite French chocolate that he kept on a high shelf so Robert and I wouldn’t take it.”

“Did that stop you?”

She laughed and shook her head. “Nope. We were determined little kids. Climbed up on chairs and the counter to get the sweets. He always had good sweets.”

“Should we try it? See if it’s any good?”

She crinkled her nose. “What if it’s the worst chocolate in the world? What if it’s poisoned?”

He arched an eyebrow. “You tell me if that seems likely that your stepdad keeps a safe full of poisoned chocolate.”

She gestured with her fingers for him to give her some. “Fine. I’ll be the guinea pig. I’m not afraid. Give me a bite.”

Not wanting to let her lab rat alone, he broke off chunks of the bar for each of them. Setting aside the Popsicle, Steph bit into hers, and Jake did the same. The chocolate was delicious.

Steph pointed to the bar. “Damn, that’s good,” she said as she finished it.

“No wonder he keeps a secret stash locked up.”

“He was always an odd duck. Like I’ve said, he loves his luxuries, so to him, maybe this chocolate is his luxury.”

“Maybe it is,” Jake said, and he wasn’t sure it was worth spending any more time wondering
why
Eli stowed his chocolate—the reason was apparent in the taste. “But at least we know what’s in his safe, and what’s
not
in his safe.”

“And so we look elsewhere. Eliminating locations is just as important, right?” she said, and there was such a sweet earnestness in her voice that simply latched onto his heart. Like she wanted to impress him. Like she wanted to show she knew what she was doing.

That was a change.

Up until now, she’d seemed reluctant to truly hunt for the diamonds. She’d been clinging to some notion of absolution for her stepdad, but for the first time, he saw a real determination in her eyes, and heard it in her voice.

He liked it. Liked it a lot.

“Yes, absolutely. Tell me what you learned at the sex-toy party,” he said, resting his palms on the wood of the table and listening to her talk. She segued into work mode quickly, too, telling him what she uncovered about the gallery expansion plans, as well as her stepfather’s security concerns at the club. Then he told her what he suspected from this morning’s bank recon. “My original thought was he kept the diamonds at the house and, bit by bit, batch by batch, had been converting them into money. But he must keep them elsewhere or he moves them in small batches. The next thing to do is to figure out where else they might be.”

She snapped her fingers. “Penny! She used to do some work for my dad. She’s supposed to be at the boat party later this week. We could talk to her. She might know something.”

Damn, she was indeed changing her tune.

He smiled. “Perfect. You seem more gung-ho than you were before.”

She shrugged. “I suppose it’s the cherry Popsicle. Or it might be seeing the diamond on Isla’s throat. Made me mad.”

Anger was good. He could work with that.

“I still don’t want him to go to prison, though,” she said.

Jake held up his hands. “Not my job to put people behind bars. I work around the law, not for the law.”

“You’re not going to turn him in to the SEC or something?”

He laughed, shaking his head. “I work for clients, not government agencies. When I find the diamonds, I return them to their rightful owners. Andrew and the Eli Fund. Simple as that.”

She quirked up the corner of her lips, as if she was considering all he’d said. Then she nodded. “Fair enough.” She picked up her Popsicle, licked it one last time, then set the stick on the table. She placed her chin in her palms. “OK, let’s play truth or dare.” She waved her hand in the air. “Wait. No. Just truth.”

He rolled his eyes. “You’re pissed that I didn’t tell you what I was planning tonight?”

She held up her thumb and forefinger to show a sliver of space. “It feels a teensy bit deceptive.”

He leaned forward. “Steph, I did it because I knew we’d have a better chance of pulling it off if you didn’t know.”

“Do you think I’m not a good partner?” she asked, her gaze intensely serious. “Tell the truth.”

He scoffed. “I think you’re great.”

“But yet you didn’t think I could pull off being in the house and knowing you were there.”

“Next time I’ll tell you. Does that work for you?”

She nodded. “Good. Now, the next truth. How was it?”

“How was what?”

“Sneaking into his house?”

“Fun,” he said, since that was wholly true. His job came with an adrenaline rush that he craved.

Her gaze drifted to his arm, and the scar he’d recently acquired. “Truth again. That’s not from a fishing accident, is it?”

He held up his hands in surrender and laughed.

“How did it happen? Tell the truth this time. If you even can,” she said, but her tone was teasing, and he sensed they’d moved beyond her annoyance over feeling tricked. Especially when she dropped her hand to his wrist and ran a finger along the scar.

He shook his head. “Knife fight in Paris. Couple of thugs who stole a Strad.”

“Did it hurt?”

“At the time, yes.”

“And now?” she asked, running her fingertip along the line of raised white flesh. His breath hitched.

“No,” he whispered.

He blinked and did a double take when a brunette walked by. She wore cat’s-eye glasses, and something about her looked familiar. Then he remembered. She was the woman who helped him at the diamond shop. Monica.

He took Steph’s hand. “Truth or dare?”

She flashed him a grin. “Dare.”

“I dare you to go for a walk on the beach with me.”

“I thought we were trying to focus on work, not on ridiculously romantic situations that are going to make it hard for you to resist throwing yourself at me?”

He laughed, loving her sense of humor. Then he did his best job tricking himself when he said, “We can just talk shop.”

He tossed some bills on the table for a tip and headed along the sand as the ocean waves gently beat against the shore in a peaceful night rhythm. “You said you appointed yourself private detective. What made you want to do that? For your mom, you said.”

Steph nodded and sighed heavily. “Eli screwed around on her for years.”

Jake burned. He nearly growled as he narrowed his eyes. “There’s a special place in hell for people who do that.”

“Maybe there is.”

“Did she know about it?”

Steph shrugged. “I don’t think so at first. I knew by the time I was a teenager, and I didn’t want to believe it. I wanted to be wrong. He was such a good dad that I tried to deny it, telling myself maybe he just had friends who were women. Maybe they were colleagues. I didn’t want to think he was cheating, that he’d hurt our family like that. I sort of hid from the truth at first, but even when it was clear what was going on, I wasn’t sure if I should say something or not. Is it my place to tap my mom and say, ‘
Hey, your husband’s screwing the assistant?
’ Eventually she learned on her own, and he groveled, and she tried again. But it didn’t work.”

“She’d had enough of him?”

She nodded. “At that point, my brother and I were both out of the house and living on our own, so she didn’t feel that obligation anymore that I think was the biggest driving factor for her in staying with him when I was younger. So they got divorced, but he’s a very shrewd man and knows how to manipulate anything. He was able to get away with pretty much everything and leave her with very little.”

Jake scoffed. “That’s just shitty.”

“Yup,” she said with a nod, then ran her finger over the treasure chest necklace she wore. “We’re really close. I basically adore her. She’s incredibly supportive of me and my business. She made this for me. That’s what she does—makes jewelry.”

Gently, he brushed his thumb across the miniature treasure chest, grazing the soft skin of her chest. “It’s lovely,” he said. He wasn’t just talking about the necklace.

She swallowed and breathed a quiet
thank you
. “And look, it’s not like she’s destitute from the divorce. She’s not living on bread and water. But he took
everything
, and it just seems so wrong. My God, she helped him start his business with money she earned from selling jewelry at craft fairs.”

“It’s completely wrong. Completely unfair. Especially when she made his business and livelihood possible,” he said, agreeing.

“She’s very giving and very generous, and that’s one of the things I love about her. That’s why I came here early to try to figure out what happened with the money. Like I’m Robin Hood or something. And that’s why I want to help—” Then she stopped talking. Like she’d simply sliced off the end of the sentence.

“Are you OK?” he asked gently, as his heels dug into the sand. He placed a hand on her elbow. He was unable to stop touching her.

“Why am I telling you this?” she asked, but the small smile forming on her lips gave her away. She wanted to trust him.

“Because I’m easy to talk to,” he said, wiggling his eyebrows. He turned serious. “You haven’t mentioned your dad. Is he gone?”

She nodded. “He died of a heart attack when I was three. Never really knew him.”

He squeezed her hand. “Sorry to hear that.”

“Thanks,” she whispered, then sighed deeply, as if the air were refueling her. “What about you? Why do you do this?”

“This is just a job for me,” he said, trying to keep his tone even.

She turned to him and knocked on his forehead.

“Knock. Knock.”

He laughed. “Fine. I’ll take the bait. Who’s there?”

“I don’t believe a word you’re saying, that’s who.”

“Just a job,” he repeated, toeing his own party line. He didn’t like to give up pieces of himself. He’d been burned the last time he let someone in.

But this woman wasn’t going to let him get away with that.

She stopped in her tracks and parked her hands on his shoulders. “Nothing is just a job,” she said, tipping her forehead to the inky black of the sea at night, starlight dancing across the water. “Take what I do. I do adventure tours because I love it. But also because the water is where I’ve always felt most at home, especially after my dad died. It’s this very special place to me. The ocean made me feel peaceful again, and it felt like a part of me. The part that made me whole. So what’s your story, Jake Harlowe? It’s only fair. We partnered up, and you know my motivation. I want to know what your story is. All I really know about you is that you have two sisters and you’re kind of a recovery specialist.”

He heaved a sigh and pointed to the sand.
Walk and talk.
Here it went. Serve up a piece of yourself. This wasn’t something he did terribly often. He didn’t like to revisit the shittiest days of his life. But she’d been honest, and he owed it to her to do the same.

“I have a little brother, too. There are four of us. And I do what I do because I’m good at it. Because it pays the bills. Because my older sister and I are responsible for my younger sister and younger brother.”

“Ah,” she said with a nod, an understanding one as she quickly processed what this meant. “When did your parents die?”

“They were killed by a drunk driver when I was in high school.”

She cringed. “Oh no. I’m so sorry.” She reached for his arm again, wrapping her hand around it as they walked through the sand.