Diamonds are for Surrender: Vows & a Vengeful Groom. Bronwyn JamesonЧитать онлайн книгу.
the consequences. “You said it was revealing.”
She blinked once, slowly, realisation dawning in her eyes as she quickly looked down and then around at the light at her back. A hint of colour traced her cheekbones but she didn’t rush away. She just raised her eyebrows a little and said, “In future I will be more careful about what I wear into this room.”
“You see yourself in this room in the future?”
Her shoulders straightened with what looked like resolve and she nodded once, the gesture as tense as her posture. “Yes. I’ve decided.”
“Good,” he said simply. Get the business done. Then celebrate. “The job and the position on the board?”
“Both … if the other directors agree.”
“They will.” He halted his progress through the long room beside one of the credenzas parked along the wall. Close enough, for now. “What made up your mind?”
“A combination of factors,” she said carefully. “I do regret cutting myself off from my family, and you were right about my dreams and my future and the difference I can make. I want to be part of shaping the future of Blackstone’s.”
“Your tour through the building helped?”
“Yes, and visiting the Blackstone Jewellery store. I felt at home there, seeing the heart of the business.”
Ric shook his head. “Those polished gems aren’t the heart, Kim—they’re just the pretty face. The heart and soul of Blackstone Diamonds is way up north, in the red Kimberley earth.”
“The Janderra mine,” she conceded softly. “Of course.” Then she blew out a rueful breath. “Would you believe after all these years in the diamond business, I’ve never visited a mine?”
“Easily fixed.”
She straightened slightly. “Oh, I wasn’t fishing for an invitation.”
“I didn’t think you were. But as a director you need to visit Janderra to get the full scope of this business, to meet the key personnel, to be able to do your job.”
“Then, thank you. I would like to do that.”
“I’ll make the arrangements.”
“For when?”
“I was planning to fly out there early next week, to address concerns about new workplace agreements and about the future management. That’ll be the ideal opportunity for you to look around.” Ric’s gaze fastened on hers, straightforward and challenging. “If you don’t mind an overnight stay.”
Something flared in her eyes, a sign that she felt the low simmer of awareness between them. But she didn’t acknowledge it. She moistened her lips and fixed her gaze resolutely on his. “Why would I mind?”
“With the ongoing wait for news on your father, I thought you might prefer to stay close to Sydney.”
“If we’re using the company jet, we can turn around and come back if necessary. We’ll only be three hours away at most.”
“Four.”
She nodded. “So, what’s next? What do I need to do to get started?”
“I’ll organise an office for you.”
“Which department?”
“You’ll be working from this floor.”
“No,” she said, shoulders straightening. “This is the territory of senior executives. Hardly appropriate for the position you offered me.”
“Suit yourself.” Ric spread his hands expansively. “But you’ll be in close consultation with those executives. Having you nearby would be convenient.”
“Perhaps, but I’ll also be working closely with the other departments—PR, marketing, the jewellery division. To be honest, I would rather if my office weren’t up here on this floor.”
Ric considered her answer. Cool, logical, matter-of-fact. But there was something else, something that tinged her high cheekbones with warm colour and deepened the green of her eyes. “Too close to me?” he asked.
“That shouldn’t be a factor.”
“But it is, isn’t it?”
She pressed her lips together, a hint of annoyance flitting across her expression before she replied. “You’re right. That shouldn’t be a factor. I will consider whichever location you deem appropriate, as long as it suits my workspace requirements.”
Her tone was formal and stuffy and so unlike Kim, Ric had to suppress a smile. The prospect of an office too close to his unsettled her. Good. “When do you want to start?”
“Yesterday.”
Ric unleashed a smile as he straightened and pushed away from the credenza. “Monday might be more convenient, but we can get started on the formalities now.” In half a dozen businesslike strides, he closed the space between them. “Welcome back to Blackstone, Kim.”
He took her hand in what started as a formal handshake, but when he felt the faint tremor in her fingers and saw the stirring of emotion in her eyes, his grip on her hand tightened. “You’ve made the right choice,” he said softly. “You belong here. You—”
“Don’t.” She shook her head abruptly. “Please, don’t go all understanding on me now. That is not what I need.”
“Perhaps you do.”
“Oh, no. I definitely don’t.” She expelled a little burst of air.
“It’s been quite a day. Seeing Blackstone Jewellery for the first time and talking to Ryan. Then making my decision. I spoke to Matt just before you came in, and Blake was there—”
Her voice cracked on the boy’s name and so did her composure. He saw something like desperation in her eyes as she tugged her hand free and swung away. Nothing could have hit Ric as hard as that wounded fracture in her voice or the sign of tears looming in her eyes.
He put his hand on her shoulder. A gesture of comfort, he told himself, but it wasn’t enough. He shifted closer, his simple touch expanding until his palm cupped her shoulder and his fingers encountered the smooth warmth of her skin. Dipping his head, he pressed his lips to her sunwarmed hair. Perhaps that would have been enough if she hadn’t made a choked sound of distress.
It sounded like, “Don’t,” but he paid no heed. With a hand on each shoulder, he turned her into his chest and tucked her close. The tickle of her hair against his chin, the scent of orchids and spice in each breath, twined around his senses and thumped in his pulse.
This was where she belonged. Right here. In his arms.
He would hold her, just hold her, while his hands soothed the bare skin of her arms and the delicate fabric that cloaked her shoulders and her back. Leopard print. With lace peeping from the shoulder straps and the hemline. Underwear aside, it was one the sexiest things he had ever seen her wearing and with each stroke of his hand his control slipped another tenuous notch.
“This dress,” he muttered thickly, his fingers giving up the fight and tracing the delicate line of lace down one shoulder blade, “is not coming on the Janderra trip.”
He felt the flutter of her breath against his throat, the tension in her shoulders, the live-wire jolt of his fingertips on her skin.
“Of course not.” Her voice sounded low, breathy. Turned on. Or at least that’s how Ric’s body interpreted the husky edge. “It’s completely not appropriate for work.”
“Then it’s lucky you’re not yet on the payroll.”
She went perfectly still, and he knew exactly what was ticking through her agile brain. Inappropriate. Work. My boss’s hands on my skin.
Beneath