A dazzling dynasty

As the only daughter of Southern California’s most famous wine dynasty, Diamond Drake devotes all her waking hours to the family business. Burned by love, she’s not sure she ever wants to fall in love again. But construction millionaire Jackson Wright is sweeping her up in a whirlwind romance. Is he the real thing? Or will the sinfully sexy bachelor prove to be all flash and no substance?

A love that’s her true destiny....

From the moment he sees her, Jackson is dazzled by the stunning, sultry Diamond. He knows it’s dangerous to mix business with pleasure. If only Diamond will say yes to a future glittering with their passion and love....

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. He would be a rule-breaker. Thoughts of consequences could come later. Right now all he wanted were her lips. On his. Now! He bent his head down. One more step and the kiss would begin. Just one more step....

Diamond Dreams

Zuri Day

Dear Reader,

I am thrilled to introduce you to the Drakes of California!

When hearing the words wine country, most of us think of Napa Valley. So did I, until visiting Southern California’s vineyards, a beautiful community surrounded by mountains, nestled midway between Los Angeles and San Diego. This picturesque setting (and a few glasses of wine) served to inspire this story about a dynasty using land that has been in the family for almost one hundred years! The Drake Vineyard is approximately sixty miles north of the first California grapes planted at Mission San Diego in 1769.

I love writing about strong women. Diamond Drake is all that and a glass of high-priced brut! She’s used to being in control, which is why her irrepressible attraction to Jackson Wright is so exasperating. But we all know what happens when iron sharpens iron…sparks fly!

So, pour a glass of something delicious…and enjoy!

Zuri Day

To the wine country of Temecula, and especially winemaker David Vergari and media director Linda Kissam of Thornton Winery. The private tour and detail-laden interview were great, the wine…even better! And to my editor, Glenda Howard, who helped make this novel such a pleasure to write. La’Chaim!

To all the readers, far and near,

I raise my glass and toast with cheer!

May your dreams come true, your smile remain,

and your life be as bubbly as a fine champagne!

Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 1

“I’m proud of you, Diamond,” Donald Drake said as he continued to flip through the latest report that she had provided. “The sketches are fantastic, and your attention to detail continues to be impressive. These innovative interior-design ideas are going to make ours one of the best resorts in California.”

“One of the best resorts, period,” Diamond corrected. “I told you that I could do it, Dad. I’m glad you trusted me with such a major aspect of our expansion.” Diamond beamed from her father’s words of praise. She considered herself the ultimate daddy’s girl and never wanted to disappoint. And being the only girl in the family made her quite competitive with her two brothers for their father’s attention.

“I don’t know how much trust had to do with it,” Dexter Drake drawled. Diamond’s always lovable yet sometimes annoying younger brother reared back in his chair and placed his interlocked fingers behind his head. “I think it was all of that whining and begging you did that finally wore him down.”

“I believe the correct verb is negotiated, dear brother. Mine was the best proposal submitted, period.” Even as she said this, Diamond knew that there was a thread of truth to Dexter’s statement. Her older brother, Donovan, handled most of the construction projects and had overseen the first phase of this one. It had taken a lot of research, idea submissions and—okay, maybe a little whining and begging—to convince Donald, the company’s founder, board president and chief operating officer, that when it came to the interior-design work and final stages of construction for Drake Wines Resort & Spa, Diamond was the woman to oversee the job.

Dexter continued his needling. “Was it the best proposal? Or just the only one submitted twenty times?”

“Ha! Come on, Diamond. Fess up,” Donovan said with a chuckle. “You did send that thing in several times.”

“I sent in several addendums to keep everyone up-to-date on the evolving ideas and projections,” Diamond retorted, with a tilt of her chin. “Which you would know, Mr. VP of Sales, if you pulled your head out of the books long enough to see what’s happening with the rest of the company.”

Donovan calmly rubbed his goatee. “I don’t miss a thing that happens around here, baby sis. Believe that.”

“How could you,” Dexter queried, “with those Dumbo-size ears on the side of your head?”

Diamond laughed as Donald frowned. “Watch yourself,” he said, his narrowed eyes fixed on Dexter. “Donovan’s ears are shaped like mine.”

“Dad, I’m not sure that is something I’d be pointing out,” Diamond said, still laughing.

“Sister, it’s something that he has no need to point out.” Dexter’s dark brown eyes twinkled and his brow wriggled as he looked pointedly at his father’s ears and then at the replicas on his big brother.

Donald couldn’t keep the frown on his face any longer. He burst out laughing. It had always been this way among his children: friendly teasing and healthy competition all held together with huge doses of love. From the beginning, he and his stay-at-home wife, Genevieve Drake, had raised their children to be a part of the business and had involved them in every aspect of their award-winning vineyard almost from the time they could walk. And while each person had their specific job title, theirs was a working knowledge of the business as a whole, and they were encouraged to multitask along those lines. This is how Diamond, the director of marketing and public relations, was now overseeing the major expansion project of turning Drake Vineyard into Drake Wines Resort & Spa.

Donovan was the most serious among the siblings, and no one was surprised when he steered the conversation back to business. “Do you believe the job will stay within the latest budget you’ve presented?”

“I’ll have a better answer for you after I meet with the interior designer—” she looked at her watch “—which is happening very shortly. So if there are no more questions, gentlemen, I need to go.”

A few minutes later, Diamond sat at her desk, speaking with her assistant before heading out of the office. “Kat, I’m going to the site to check out the construction, not the candy,” she chided, though a smile belied Diamond’s sternly delivered words. “Man candy” is what Kathleen Fitzpatrick had deemed the construction workers who’d invaded their space. For months, a crew of around fifty men had been hard at work building the five-star facility that upon completion would include restaurants, a bar, lounge, day spa, gym, expanded gift store, executive offices and boutique hotel.

“Besides,” Diamond continued, “I’m not into candy right now. I’m watching my wait, spelled W-A-I-T.” Kathleen fixed Diamond with a chagrined look. “I’m just not ready to jump back into the dating game.” She reached for a batch of drawings and placed them in her briefcase. “And even if I were…there’s no time for that. Duty continuously calls.”

“Pretty good speech but that’s hogwash and you know it.” At fifty-six years old, Kathleen was not only Diamond’s assistant, but sometimes she felt like a second mother to the woman who was twenty-plus years her junior. And after many years as a dedicated Drake employee, she felt comfortable speaking exactly what was on her mind. “It’s been two years, girl. How long are you going to let that jerk of an ex-boyfriend run your life? Oh, my, did I say run? I meant ruin!”

“Ha! Stop exaggerating, Kat, before you set that Irish blood to boiling. My ex, whose name is no longer worthy of being uttered from my lips, has not ruined my life. He just helped to enhance my search skills and made me very selective. Right now, my man’s first name is Resort and his last name is Spa.”

“Go ahead. Hide behind your pesky professional obligations.”

“You call a thirty-million-dollar renovation pesky? You go, girl!”

“But just remember,” Kat continued, not missing a beat or taking the bait. “You’re not getting any younger. You may have pushed it to the back of your mind, but I remember a young woman who not so long ago was eagerly looking forward to marriage and motherhood. The right man to make that happen is still out there.”

“Amid the glass, bricks and plywood that currently litter our vineyard?”

“No, sweetie, perhaps amid the blood, sweat and mass of muscles moving that stuff around! I’m not saying you should marry one of the workers, but you should at least take a look. I have and let me tell you…there’s some honeys in the bunch.”

Diamond’s phone rang. It was just as well that the conversation end and that she take her mind off men—her sore spot—and put it back on work—her salvation. Besides, when it came to those particular M&Ms—men and marriage—there was no use arguing with her trusty assistant. Kathleen had wed at eighteen and borne five children. In her mind one hadn’t lived until they’d snagged a man, had a child, adopted a dog and got a house surrounded by a white picket fence. She’d been married longer than Diamond had been alive. So when it came to heartbreak and breakups, what did she know?

“That was the designer,” Diamond said after completing the call. “She’s at the site. I’ll be back in less than an hour.”

The clicking of Diamond’s four-inch heels punctuated the air as she walked to her parking space. She unlocked the door of her shiny sports coupe and slid inside. Belatedly realizing that the heat index in sunny Temecula, California, had risen, she shed her suit jacket, grabbed a pen in the cup holder and hastily placed her shoulder-length dark auburn hair into a chignon. The construction site was less than a mile away from Drake Wines’ executive offices. As she drove down the picturesque lane lined with colorful maple trees boasting red, orange and yellow leaves in the autumn sun, Diamond knew her focus should be on windows, tiles and color swatches and making sure that every aspect of the job to which she’d been entrusted was being executed to perfection. Instead, it was on man candy.

Chapter 2

Jackson “Boss” Wright leaned back in his large black executive chair with a satisfied smile. He and his team had done it again—outsmarted and outbid the big boys. Boss Construction had just won a lucrative contract for a downtown development in Chicago, Illinois. He couldn’t wait to sit down with his team and fine-tune the plans, but first he needed to fly to Chicago for another meeting with the executives behind this combination shopping mall and office complex that would include a soaring edifice rivaling the Willis Tower. Jackson turned on his electronic calendar even as he reached for the speaker button on his office phone. At the same time, his office door opened and his assistant walked in. She was not smiling.

“We got another one,” she said without preamble.

Jackson heaved a heavy sigh. Without asking, he knew what she meant. “Let me see it.”

Marissa Hayes, Jackson’s loyal assistant of six years, approached his desk, her outstretched hand containing a single sheet of paper. Jackson scanned it quickly. The note was short and succinct—as had been all the others.

The bigger they are, the harder they fall. You think you’ve gotten pretty big, huh? Mr. Big-Time Construction, Mr. Millionaire Business Owner. Enjoy it while you can. Because your days at the top are numbered…just like the days of your life.

Jackson casually tossed the piece of paper aside. He remained purposefully nonchalant, not wanting to upset Marissa more than this and the previous letters already had. “This is, what, the third or fourth one?”

“Fifth,” Marissa somberly responded.

“Place it in the file with the others.” Jackson scrolled the electronic calendar with his finger. “I need you to schedule meetings with all relevant parties of the Chicago project, including the mayor, if he’s available. Then book a flight for the evening before.”

“Returning when?”

“Either the evening of the last meeting or, if it’s a dinner meeting, the next day’s first flight.” Jackson placed his iPad aside and walked over to a drafting table.

“So that’s it?”

“What else is there? You already know to book me at the Ritz-Carlton Chicago, rent the car from—”

“Not the trip, Boss. I’m talking about the letter.”

“What about it?”

“How long are you going to let these threats come before you do something about it?”

“What do you propose I do?”

Marissa worked hard not to let the exasperation she felt come out in her voice. “Call the police, hire an investigator, I don’t know…but something!” So much for masking frustration. Even a blind man could have seen her chagrin.

Jackson noted the fear in Marissa’s eyes. He didn’t share it, but he didn’t blame her. The first letter had arrived approximately two months ago, right after he’d ended a short-term affair. To say that the woman had been less than pleased was putting it mildly. She’d all but told him—in fact, she’d actually told him—that he’d regret the day he let her go. At first, he’d thought the letters were from her. But then again, it could be a former worker or subcontractor. He’d had to fire a few bad apples over the years. Maybe someone was still smarting from their termination—or being left off a job. He’d even considered the competition he’d beat out for the past few contracts. While the idea seemed highly unlikely, the construction business was a very competitive one. Boss Construction had landed several sweet deals in the past five years, outmaneuvering some pretty heavy hitters along the way. When billions of dollars were at stake and the national economy still shaky at best, who knew what companies were capable of? And finally there was Marissa’s observation: that the letters began arriving shortly after he’d been featured in Black Enterprise magazine. The article, not to mention the accompanying photos, had resulted in a deluge of extra publicity—and fan mail. Maybe someone from his past had read it. Maybe someone from the life and the lifestyle he’d worked so hard to leave behind was trying to drag him back into it. But he wondered who would want to do that. And why? He’d left his old life more than a decade ago. Jackson wasn’t so much concerned for himself as he was for those around him. For the first time, he fully acknowledged the potential extent of the threats. Damage could not only be done to him but to anyone in his offices. Marissa was right. It was time to take action.

“Call Abe,” Jackson said, removing his jacket as he walked toward the walk-in closet at the back of the room. Abe Swartz was not only Jackson’s attorney but a longtime friend. “Tell him we need a private investigator.”

“Should I tell him why?” Marissa asked.

“Yes.”

A moment later, Jackson stepped out of his office dressed in jeans, a T-shirt and work boots.

Marissa smiled as she eyed her supervisor’s confident strides. She knew this routine. Jackson played the tough guy, and he was a typical alpha male. But he also had a huge heart, one that worried about those around him, those for whom he felt personally responsible. The anonymous threats were bothering him more than he let on. “Going to burn off some nervous energy?”

Jackson stopped at the outer office door, his hand on the knob. “Nervous? Do I look nervous? I’m going to engage in one of my favorite pastimes…working alongside my men.”

Chapter 3

Man candy. These were the words that came to mind as soon as she saw him. They’d exited a small building and now stood outside. Who is he? quickly followed that thought. As Diamond and the interior-design team had walked the floors of what would become the freestanding wine shop, she’d casually eyed the hardworking men. A couple she’d seen were buffed and toned, but others had average bodies and equally average looks. One or two had smiled and waved, but none had dared approach her. She’d smiled when she saw one worker nudge another after he’d surreptitiously winked at her. She figured her brothers had been their usually overprotective selves, warning the men to stay away from their little sister—no matter that she was the middle child or that said “little” sister stood five foot nine in stocking feet, with a full Beyoncé-like build and curves in all the right places. Growing up, she’d gone toe-to-toe with her brothers more than once, and until height and muscle replaced scraped knees and baby teeth, she’d pretty much held her own. Yet when it came to her and the opposite sex, the Drake line of defense was legendary. Every man she’d dated since the age of sixteen had come under intense and biased scrutiny. But she wasn’t interested in dating.

No interest. Too busy. I’m hardly even aware of these sweaty, shirtless, sexy men. Or of the gorgeous man now eyeing her openly. Yeah. Right. And Mona Lisa was a man.

“Jackson Wright,” Taylor said, when she noticed her last two sentences spoken to Diamond had gone unheard. There was a reason Taylor Stevens was one of the country’s top interior designers. She had an uncanny eye for detail that missed nothing.

“I’m sorry?”

“The man you’re totally aware of while trying hard to act as though you’re not noticing him? His name is Jackson Wright.”

Diamond tried for a quick recovery. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“If you mean you don’t know about the stone foyer I was speaking of, you’re right. Or the major design change I just mentioned. You haven’t heard a word I’ve said. But don’t worry. It’s totally understandable. The first time I saw him my reaction was the same. But fair warning. I’ve heard that he’s known for leaving women speechless and taking their breath away…among other things.”

Other things like what? Heart, soul, virginity? Diamond did not voice these questions. She didn’t want to appear interested in something that for her held absolutely no interest. Like human gods and whatnot. Diamond’s appearances in and around the construction site had been rare. But one thing was for sure: she’d never seen this god, uh, guy before. He had a face—not to mention a body—that one would not forget.

She shifted her eyes away from the tall, commanding stranger. It was the only way she could refocus on the task at hand. What is he…six-three, six-four? She frowned, surprised that her thoughts had not shifted along with her body. So much for out of sight, out of mind. In less than two minutes, this man had gotten under her skin, and truth be told…Diamond wanted to get under him.

This surprised her. Diamond Nicole Drake was a strong, powerful woman, healthy enough but not normally given to forceful, almost primal, sexual urges. She knew how to focus; discombobulated would rarely if ever be used to describe her. As a high-powered executive in the multimillion-dollar dynasty her dad had created, she was a woman used to being in control and demanding respect. Well, she wanted to demand something, all right, and didn’t care if it seemed the least bit disrespectful: a little rendezvous with Mr. Muscles. Private meeting. After hours. She’d even pay overtime.

Get it together, sistah! Why was she acting like she’d never seen a handsome man before? She had three of those in her immediate family. She’d grown up with fine men and dated them, too. Something about this construction worker unnerved her, and she wasn’t exactly sure how she felt about it. What she did know for sure was that nothing was going to take her focus off of making Drake Wines the chic, upscale resort she’d envisioned. And speaking of visions, the one just over Taylor’s shoulder was exactly what Diamond needed to bring her mind back to the singularly important task at hand—work.

With eyes still on the scene across what would become the resort courtyard, Diamond spoke to Taylor. “I’ll be right back.” Her long strides quickly ate up the distance between her and the group of men lounging on the ground. One was playing a video game, another two were checking out a sports magazine while a fourth was busy texting away. While still a couple yards away, she demanded, “What’s going on here?” The men looked up, but before any of them could speak she looked at her watch and continued. “It’s two o’clock in the afternoon, way past lunchtime. And you’re reading magazines and playing video games?” She pushed her sunglasses from her face to the top of her head. “Really? Are you serious?”

“Diamond, we—”

“Do I know you?” Diamond asked the man who’d been texting on his cell phone. “Because in the workplace, unless otherwise specifically indicated, I am addressed as Ms. Drake.”

Mr. Sports Illustrated tried next. “Ms. Drake, we—”

She held up her hand, deflecting further comment. “Never mind with the excuses. Where is your boss?”

Mr. Video Game pointed behind her. “He’s right there.”

Diamond turned, took one step and ran into a wall—otherwise known as the chest of Jackson Wright.

“Whoa!” Jackson reached out to steady a stumbling Diamond.

“Aw!” Diamond fell into Jackson’s arms. Is it me, or did the earth just quake?

Later, Diamond would wonder about the tangible jolt of electricity that raced up her spine before coursing through her nether parts. But she gave no thought to that as she quickly put distance between herself and Jackson.

“Is there a problem?” Jackson asked, removing the large hand from around the soft arm he’d just steadied and crossing his arms over a massive chest.

“I’d say that’s obvious,” Diamond answered, crossing her arms, as well. “Your men are slacking on the job, and that is totally unacceptable.”

“My men,” Jackson began, his voice low and firm, “are on their lunch hour.”

Diamond raised a skeptical brow. “At two in the afternoon?”

“That’s right. We knew that Taylor would be conducting a walk-through and wanted to get to a certain point in the work before we stopped. And since these men will also be working past their usual cutoff time, this later lunch will help them get through what for some will be a twelve-hour day.” Diamond’s chin rose a notch as she continued to look at one of the most amazing examples of mankind she’d ever seen in life.

“They work very hard.” Jackson’s eyes narrowed as he awaited an answer—correction: an apology.

Diamond offered a different point of view. “How hard they’ve worked will be determined during the walk-through. And late lunch or not, playing video games and reading magazines on the job is not a good look.”

“With all due respect, when on their lunch hour, my men can do whatever they want as long as it’s legal.”

When it came to the vineyard, it was a rare moment that someone challenged Diamond unless their last name was Drake. And when it came to nerve, Diamond realized that the man standing in front of her had plenty of it. And so did she, which was why he was going to get a serious piece of her mind. But realizing there was an avidly interested audience listening on, she decided now was not the time. Taking a deep, calming breath, she responded, “You may be over these men, but I am over this project. My name is—”

“I know who you are, Ms. Drake. And I also know California labor laws. That’s part of my job.” He extended his hand. “I’m Jackson Wright. The—”

“I know who you are,” Diamond interrupted, paying him back for not letting her finish. She knew it was childish, unprofessional and something she’d probably not even do with her irksome brothers, but she seemed unable to stop this man from pushing her buttons. “You’re the supervisor. Listen, I need to walk the site, but I’d like for you to call my assistant and set up a time to meet as soon as possible. There are some things we need to discuss.”

Diamond started to walk around Jackson, but he fell into step beside her. “We’ll make the appointment, but I’d actually like to handle the first part of the walk-through.”

Diamond stopped. “Why?”

“To explain some of the technical aspects of the electrical installations, as well as share some thoughts I have for the restaurant and lounge atriums.”

The last thing Diamond wanted was to spend additional time with Jackson Wright. His authoritative audacity intrigued her even as it irritated her. He had her thinking and feeling things she’d locked down deep.

And then fate intervened.

Chapter 4

Taylor walked up to where Jackson and Diamond stood, her face a mask of worry as she talked into her cell. “Hold on,” she said into the phone before looking at Diamond. “This is my assistant designer with a crazy emergency. Can you give me ten minutes to deal with this before we begin?”

“No problem,” Jackson said, even though he hadn’t been the one addressed. “I’ll show Ms. Drake around.”

Diamond was two seconds from going off on this presumptuous jerk, but her professional persona appeared unruffled. She turned to Taylor. “No worries, Taylor. Join us when you’re done.”

She really doesn’t know who I am. This was Jackson’s thought as they walked toward the second largest building in the new architectural scheme. For now, Jackson felt it unimportant to enlighten her. Strange things often happened when women found out he was the owner of Boss Construction: visions of wedding bells and baby booties often began to dance in their heads. Too bad he wasn’t the marrying kind, because worse things could happen than having this feisty beauty in bed every night. But having her there for a night, a week, a few months even? It was a possibility, even with her headstrong personality. She was almost worth potentially losing a client over, but his uncle John had taught him nothing if not this one thing about business: don’t play where you eat.

And then he went on flirting as if he’d never known Uncle John. “I’ve been involved in this project from the beginning, pretty lady, and would love to show you around. Let’s start at the heart of the construction.” Without waiting for an answer, he gently captured Diamond’s elbow and steered her toward the large structure that when completed would be Temecula wine country’s newest hotel. The restaurant, bar, lounge, gift store and retail offices would make up the ground floor.

Diamond ignored both the flirtatious comment and the shiver that ran down her spine at Jackson’s touch. Instead, she lifted her chin and called on the age-old strength that was the Drake resolve: the power that had allowed her great-great-grandfather to not only participate in the Gold Rush but to become wealthy because of it; that had helped her great-grandfather stand his ground and keep hundreds of acres of land when those on both sides of the law tried to steal it from him; that had given her grandfather the foresight to turn many of those acres into top-quality, grape-producing vineyards; and that had guided her father’s vision into what was now the Drake dynasty—an immensely profitable, award-winning vineyard that was the envy of winemakers from Italy to France and Spain to Northern California. He’s just a man, flesh and blood. His presence is affecting me this way only because I’m sex-deprived, Diamond thought, rationalizing the crazy attraction she was feeling for the man walking beside her. That reality—not his good looks, bulging muscles or the way his butt fills out a pair of jeans—is why Jackson Wright is affecting me so. She shifted the purse that was over her left shoulder, deftly removing her skin from his touch.

Beside her, Jackson’s thoughts followed a similar path…the one involving butts and bodies, that is. He marveled at the magnetism between them, thinking of how quickly he could palm the booty that had grabbed his attention as soon as Diamond had turned to speak with the designer. It was her perfectly curved derriere that had caused him to cut off his foreman in midsentence and make a beeline for the attractive woman across the way. Unfortunately, what he’d heard coming out of her mouth as she addressed the workers wasn’t nearly as attractive as her round backside. But Jackson wasn’t deterred. He could handle a strong woman because he was a strong man. And once he got her in bed, he determined, he’d show her a different kind of power altogether.

“Hold on, let me get you a hard-on, I mean, a hard hat. Hat,” he emphasized before quickly walking away. He walked toward a group of men huddled over a floor plan laid out on a truck hood. Diamond pondered how to deal with her uncanny attraction to someone she’d obviously be working with from here on out, even as she noticed how the men seemed to stand at attention as Jackson approached. They listened intently as he spoke with them. Then one of them reached into a crate and pulled out a hard hat. Jackson nodded his thanks and returned to Diamond’s side.

“You seem to command a lot of respect,” Diamond said as they continued walking toward the tall building. “Are you the supervisor or the foreman?”

“I’m in charge” was Jackson’s noncommittal answer. “Put this on,” he continued as they stepped inside the massive doorway and into a large, airy foyer.

“Is this really necessary? Most of the foundation and walks look almost complete.”

“But they’re not. Besides, everybody on-site wears a hard hat. That’s the rule.”

“You’re not wearing one,” Diamond responded sarcastically.

Jackson winked, blessing her with a smile. “I’m a rule breaker.”

Diamond ignored the squiggle that went directly through her core in no time flat and refused to acknowledge the long, curly lashes that framed the dark brown eye that had winked at her, or the straight white teeth behind thick, cushy lips. She thought of those lips touching hers and used unresolved anger to push desire away. “We need to get something straight,” she said, stopping as soon as they were out of sight of the men. “Don’t ever question my word in front of your workers. And don’t ever speak to me again in a tone of disrespect.”

“Respect is earned,” Jackson instantly retorted, rising up to his full six feet five inches. “And it’s reciprocal. You respect me and my men, and we’ll respect you.”

“I beg your pardon?” Diamond was incredulous.

“You don’t have to beg, Diamond. Just listen.” His tone was so authoritative that she stopped talking in spite of herself. “The guys out there are men, not boys. This is work, not school. They were on their lunch hour, not recess. When they tried to explain this, you shut them up with a wave of your hand. Now, I don’t know how you do it in the executive offices, but out here that’s not how we get down.” He stared at her without flinching, his eyes cool, unblinking.

Diamond stared back—and blinked first. “Perhaps I did jump to conclusions. But with the kind of money we’re spending, we have the right to expect hard work and get it.”

“You are getting what you’re paying for,” Jackson said, his tone softer as he once again touched Diamond’s arm and guided her farther inside the structure. “And more. Come on in, and you’ll see what I mean.”

They walked through the foyer and into what would become the restaurant. “This is gorgeous,” she gushed, shifting her eyes and thoughts from the brawn beside her to the beauty of the building, and once again removed her arm from his touch.

“Yes,” Jackson replied, eyeing Diamond. “It is.”

Diamond ignored the obvious come-on and stepped inside the main dining area. “The natural light from those large windows makes this space seem even bigger.” Her tone was sharp, almost curt, and strictly business. “But they’re going to allow in a lot of heat, as well. It gets very hot here in the summer, especially August and September. Even with stellar air-conditioning that might be a problem.”

“These are special windows,” Jackson explained, relaxing as he settled into his element. “They become tinted in extreme sunlight and temper the heat. Diners will still be able to take in the magnificent view yet not experience discomfort due to extreme heat or cold. The heating and cooling system that we’ve installed is state-of-the-art and will continually adjust to maintain whatever temperature is programmed into the computer. And these,” Jackson continued, running his hands along the smooth, stone walls, “will also serve to both keep out the cold and…bring in the heat.” Jackson made no move to hide his desire as his gaze openly raked Diamond’s physique.

Diamond spun around, her chin lifting along with her ire. “Are you always this impertinent when speaking to a client? Or have you forgotten that that is who I am, a client, not some piece of meat to ogle like a rabid dog!”

Bow wow wow, yippee yo, yippee yay, baby! Her haughty nature turned him on, not off, and stimulated that part of him that liked a good challenge. He raised a brow as he stared back at her, noting how her ample chest heaved with her deep, calming breaths. He wanted to experience this spunkiness in a totally different way. Jackson’s resolve to do so strengthened, even as his tactics changed. “I’m sorry. You’re right. I’m out of line. But you’re a very beautiful, desirable woman. I’d have to be blind not to find you attractive and dead not to react. It was just a little harmless flirtation, but again, I apologize.”

“How harmless would it be if I reported you to the owner? I am here in a professional capacity, and I expect to be treated in a professional manner. Is that understood?”

“Completely,” Jackson responded. Still, his eyes smoldered as he answered, and his wide-legged, crossed-arms stance suggested that he wasn’t in the least bit afraid of being reprimanded. “Shall we continue, or would you prefer to do the tour with someone less intimidating?”

Diamond was not known for being a neck-rolling, hand-on-hip kind of sistah, but his comment almost provoked both actions. “What did you say?”

Throwing her off guard by changing courses yet again, Jackson reverted to a trait that more than once had saved his life—bravado. “You heard me. You’re as attracted to me as I am to you. And that attraction, not my flirtation, is what’s upsetting you.”

“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, and in the moment, had he rode in on a white horse, dressed in armor, she couldn’t have been any more grateful. “Mr. Drake, always a pleasure to see you, sir. Donovan, good to see you, man.” They shook hands.

“Good to see you,” Donovan replied, his brow creased in slight confusion.

Jackson knew that further talk with these two men would likely blow his cover. It was time for a quick getaway. “Ms. Drake, it’s been a pleasure,” he said, his tone courteous, formal, making Diamond immediately wish for the rogue. “But I need to head over to the other building. Gentlemen, if you’ll excuse me.”

Forcing herself not to watch the firm, hard butt exiting the building, Diamond turned to her dad and brother. “What are you guys doing here?”

“We were on our way to the cellar and saw Taylor outside. When she said you were here, on the first floor of our masterpiece, we thought we’d join you.”

“Good, because so far what I’ve seen is amazing.” Jackson’s leaving allowed oxygen to once again flow to Diamond’s brain. “Taylor, why don’t you explain to Dad and Donovan what you shared with me earlier, including the fabrics and colors for the spa?” They continued the tour, and Taylor presented a variety of swatches. But in her mind, the only hue Diamond saw was caramel, and the only face was that of Jackson Wright.

Chapter 5

A half hour later, Diamond wheeled her shiny black BMW into its parking space, threw the car in Park and shut off the engine. She hadn’t seen him when they left the site but no matter. Thoughts of Jackson still consumed her. She’d never had her head spun like this, not even when Jamal Pendergrass had kissed her outside the skating rink—her first smooch at the ripe old age of thirteen. What just happened? Diamond didn’t understand. As a woman who prided herself on self-control and was known in the dating world as being “hard to get,” she was less than enthused that she’d almost made a fool of herself in the workplace. As it was, when she saw her father, in general, and Donovan, in particular, she knew she’d have some ’splainin’ to do! Her older brother’s knowing smirk hadn’t gone unnoticed.

Determined to put Jackson and what had happened behind her, she took a deep breath, reached for her purse and headed into the executive offices. She pasted what she hoped was a nonchalant look on her face, took another calming breath—where was the yoga mat when she needed it?—and opened the door to her office.

Kathleen looked at her always cool, calm and collected superior and immediately sensed something amiss. “What’s wrong?”

“Does it look like something’s wrong with me?” Diamond snapped. So much for the calm, nonchalant facade.

“You forget how well I know you,” Kathleen replied, nonplussed. “Plus, I know a tight mouth when I see one. Come on, darlin’. Out with it. Did one of those pieces of man candy get you all hot and bothered?”

Diamond didn’t respond.

Kathleen clapped her hands with glee. “That’s it! Which one? No, don’t tell me, let me guess. Is it that tall, strapping man with the tattoo across his chest?”

The “tall, strapping” description definitely fit Jackson, but Diamond didn’t remember a tattoo. “Step into my office,” she said over her shoulder to Kathleen as she left the common area to enter her more private domain. Maybe talking about this weird attraction would help her get rid of it.

Kathleen hurried behind her, closing Diamond’s office door once they were both inside. Her green eyes glittered as she took a seat in one of the tan suede chairs that framed the large ebony desk. Diamond walked behind it, threw down her purse and slouched into the large leather executive chair.

“First of all, nothing is wrong. And, for the record, you’re right. There are a lot of attractive men down there.”

“Anyone in particular catch your fancy?”

Diamond shrugged. “Not really.” Liar, liar, pants on fire. “I was given a partial tour by the supervisor while Taylor handled a call.”

“And…”

“And nothing, Kat. Jeez! He’s tall, but then so are several of the men. Plus, he was wearing a T-shirt.” Much to her chagrin. “I don’t remember a tattoo.”

“The one I’m talking about stands a head and shoulder above the rest. He’s a hunk of burning love,” Kathleen said dreamily. “I don’t see him every day, but the few times I have, he’s left quite an impression. Oh, to be young and single again. I bet his legs aren’t the only things that are long and strong about him.”

“Kathleen!”

“Oh, come now,” Kathleen said, her eyes still twinkling. “You don’t think I became a mother of five by singing ‘Yankee Doodle,’ do you?”

“Ha! I guess not. The man who showed me around is really tall.”

“Handsome?”

“He looks all right. His name is Jackson.”

“Dear, you’re trying really hard not to sound impressed, which means he must have knocked your socks off.” Kathleen leaned forward. “So when are you guys going out?”

“Out?”

Kathleen clucked. “Out…as in on a date? Really, Diamond, sometimes I wonder if you’re twenty-nine or only nine.”

“We’re not going out,” Diamond responded, ignoring the older woman’s jab. “I don’t date men from the workplace.”

“He’s hardly that,” Kathleen insisted. “He doesn’t work for Drake Wines, and he’s not in these offices. I think you should go out with him,” she went on, despite Diamond’s scowl. “If nothing else, it will rid you of the persnickety mood you’ve had of late. You know I love you, Diamond, but in the past few months, you haven’t been your charming, gracious self.”

“Careful, Kat,” Diamond drily replied, turning on her computer and reaching for the mouse. “You’re talking to the woman who signs your paychecks.”

“Technically, my paychecks are signed by your father and the CFO. But you’re the boss, so I’ll button my lip and head back to my desk.” Kathleen reached the door and turned. “But I still think you should go out with him. Who knows what that might lead to?” Her tinkling laughter followed her out of the room.

Diamond couldn’t help smiling as she clicked on her task bar and checked out what was left on the day’s agenda. Kathleen was Diamond’s assistant, but having worked in various capacities at the vineyard for twenty years, she was family, too. She’s right, Diamond acknowledged, as she scrolled down the page. I haven’t been too charming lately.

And Diamond knew why. It was the lack of testosterone in her life and, more specifically, in her bed—a problem she didn’t see being resolved anytime soon. Even as she shifted from her task bar to her calendar and the evening’s obligation—a fundraiser for at-risk youth sponsored by the San Diego Arts Association—she pondered her predicament and Kathleen’s earlier comment. How long was she going to let Benjamin Carter, the ex-fiancé who’d strung her along before breaking her heart, ruin her life?

Abruptly cutting off her computer, Diamond reached for her purse and strode toward the door. Kathleen was right. Benjamin’s refusal to marry her after their long engagement had affected her more than she dared admit. She had buried herself in work and put her life on hold because of it. She’d gone on only a couple dates in almost a year and was probably setting herself up to be an old maid. But no more! “It’s time to get back in the game!” she hissed. Maybe she’d meet someone tonight to play with.

Moments later, Diamond had lowered the top of her convertible and was zooming down the tree-lined roads of Drake Vineyard, soon to be known as Drake Wines Resort & Spa. As she neared the construction site, Jackson’s handsome face and knowing smile drifted into her mind. She remembered the feel of his hand on her waist, and her body reacted, muscles in certain nether regions clenching at the mere possibility of surrounding someone else’s, well, muscle. In spite of her determination not to do so, she eased off the gas, slowing down as her eyes scanned the sweaty bodies still hard at work under the dimming sun. She didn’t see him. She told herself that was a good thing and realized that lying to oneself was not cute.

Diamond reached for her phone and called her hair stylist, who was located in San Diego. “Lecia, it’s Diamond.”

“And let me guess,” Lecia said, as she sewed a track of hair into the head of her current client. “You need to see me ASAP, and I’m supposed to fit you in.”

Diamond laughed. “Something like that. But it’s an emergency. I need a makeover.”

“Oh, Lord. Sounds serious. What time can you be here?”

“In about an hour, hour and a half?”

“You’d better be glad I consider you a friend.”

“Plus I tip well.”

“Ha! That, too. Which I appreciate, since some of these fools hand me an extra dollar and call it a day.”

“You hook me up, and I’ll make it worth your while. See you soon.” Diamond ended the call and was soon speeding down the boulevard to the estate where the entire Drake family still lived. Initially, she’d not been looking forward to a night of gowns and tuxes and rich men trying to impress her with their portfolios. But a certain assistant had suggested change, and a certain well-built construction worker had whetted her appetite. Before the night was over, she decided, she’d find someone to get back in the game with, and try to forget about the man with whom she’d really like to score.

Chapter 6

Jackson pulled up to the valet and exited his latest toy. Next to women, cars were one of his favorite things to collect, and the newly purchased top-of-the-line Maserati GranTurismo fit him to a T. Like him, it was sleek, powerful and stood out in a crowd. He unfolded his tuxedo-clad six-foot-five-inch frame from the sports car, cutting a distinctive swath across the five-star hotel’s well-appointed lobby. Envious glances and flirty stares followed him as he walked to the meticulously landscaped garden, where gloved waiters carried trays of bubbly and hors d’oeuvres. Taking a flute from a passing waiter, he surveyed the grounds quickly filling up with the beautiful people: silk, diamonds, cloying perfume and smiles abounding. For a fleeting second the boy he used to be—poor, insecure, troubled—rose up within him. He wondered how these people would react if they knew where he’d grown up, the things he’d done to survive that childhood and where his mother now resided. A beautiful woman coming toward him distracted him from these uncomfortable thoughts. By the time she arrived at his side, the bravado Jackson had often called upon to mask his fears was firmly back in place.

“Jackson, thanks for accepting my invitation.” Her sparkling blue eyes drank him in much faster than he sipped his champagne. “You look delicious. I’m so glad you came.” She reached up and planted a soft kiss on his chin. “And unaccompanied no less,” she whispered seductively. “A virile man such as yourself shouldn’t spend the night alone.”

Jackson smiled at Erin Bridges, the daughter of a real-estate mogul with whom Jackson had partnered on occasion. No one could deny her classic beauty: shiny blond hair cut into a flattering asymmetrical bob, bright doe eyes framed by ridiculously long lashes and a pouty mouth covered with just the right amount of shimmering gloss. She’d definitely caught his eye when they met five years ago, but after realizing that the business relationship with her father would be an ongoing one with lucrative potential, Jackson had decided that they should not date. Again, his uncle’s warning to not use his workplace as a playground helped him put on the brakes. She’d been less than happy with his “let’s just be friends” suggestion. But what could she do?

“I see you’ve pulled off yet another top-notch event,” Jackson finally said, waving his hand in acknowledgment of the well-heeled crowd.

“It’s easy to do when you have friends in high places,” Erin responded. “Besides, this cause really feels good. With the fundraisers planned, we’ll be able to send at least twenty-five students to highly accredited colleges and, after graduation, through our partnerships with local businesses such as yours, help some of them get started in their professional careers. Oh, speaking of local businesses, someone has just come in that I want you to meet.”

Jackson turned to see to whom Erin referred and saw a vision that took his breath away. Diamond Drake lived up to her name, lighting up the courtyard as she waltzed in, the epitome of grace and beauty. Her dress was a simple one-shoulder design, the deep-red iridescent fabric perfectly complementing her sun-kissed sienna skin. Jackson’s eyes continued to travel upward, taking in a long neck and what? She cut her hair! The short hairdo fit her spunky personality, he immediately decided, noting that it emphasized her high cheekbones and almond-shaped eyes. Her makeup was simple, as was her jewelry. When you are a diamond, you don’t need to overaccessorize. His gait was strong and purposeful, his thoughts predatory, as he walked toward her.

* * *

Later, Diamond would pride herself on not having tripped in her four-inch heels as shock consumed her. What is he doing here? This was a five-thousand-dollar-per-person gathering of the county’s most elite players. How did a construction worker, even a foreman, wrangle an invite and then afford such an expensive one? And how did one transform from looking perfectly at home on a construction site, complete with sweaty T-shirt and dusty jeans, to looking as if he owned the world in a tux that emphasized his broad shoulders, narrow waist and long legs, and a stark white shirt that highlighted caramel skin? Diamond’s eyes narrowed as they finally settled on the woman walking beside Jackson, La Jolla’s premiere socialite, Erin Bridges. She felt as if she were looking at the answer to how Jackson got invited to the event and didn’t try and ignore the stab of jealousy that arose at the prospect that the construction site might not be the only place Jackson was making use of his skilled hands.

“Diamond, you look lovely!” Erin reached Diamond with arms outstretched and gave air kisses to both cheeks. “You cut your hair. I love it!”

“Decided it was time for a change,” Diamond said, running a hand through the shortened crop she was still getting used to, and feeling suddenly shy under Jackson’s intense gaze. With effort, she kept her eyes on Erin. “You look amazing. That dress is stunning.”

“Oh, just a little something I picked up last week in Italy. It’s a Roberto Cavalli original.”

“Roberto…of course.” Diamond’s statement was to Erin, but she’d lost the fight to keep her eyes off Jackson. Or was his name Magnet? By the way she was drawn to him, she couldn’t tell.

“Diamond, I’d like you to meet Jackson Wright, the ‘Boss’ of Boss Construction and philanthropist to a variety of worthwhile causes.”

Diamond’s eyes narrowed as realization dawned. Her father and brothers had always referred to the owner of the construction company as Boss, not Jackson. Diamond had assumed they were simply referring to him by his title and had never considered that the name of the company actually referred to a person. It had never mattered to her one way or the other—until now. “So…is your name Jackson or Boss?”

“Jackson, but most of my friends call me Boss.”

“Making sure that everyone knows you’re the head honcho?”

“That’s what my mom called me. She said that even in diapers I was pretty headstrong and was barking orders by the time I was crawling. The nickname stuck.” It was one of the few things from his childhood that Jackson had kept.

Diamond felt enough sparks were flying to send a shuttle to the moon. She stared at Jackson and barely noticed when a guest came over to steal Erin away. For a moment, she lost herself in the heat emanating from Jackson’s gaze and wondered how hot his kiss would feel. Diamond let the fire in her core rise to her brain. Earlier, Jackson had duped her. He hadn’t come clean about who he was at the job.

“Boss Wright?” she murmured, her face fixed in a look of subtle chagrin. “Owner of Boss Construction?” She realized that Jackson was still holding her hand and deftly pulled it away from him.

“At your service,” Jackson replied, nonplussed, reaching to grab her hand again.

“Stop it!” Diamond spat between clenched teeth, even as she worked to maintain a neutral expression for anyone watching. “You’ve got a lot of nerve standing here all nonchalant after lying to me this afternoon.”

“Lying? How so?”

“By not telling me who you were when showing me around the construction site.”

“Oh, you mean back at the vineyard where you were acting like a spoiled BAP, the Black American princess threatening to have me fired because I came on to you? I didn’t lie to you. There were simply some things that I didn’t reveal.”

Diamond cursed her body for reacting to this silkily drawled truth. “I specifically spoke about discussing you with the owner.”

“Which you may have known were one and the same had you not interrupted my introduction. Assuming that I was the supervisor is on you.”

“I’d say you were being uncooperative at best and deceptive at worst.”

“Well, baby,” Jackson said, the single glass of bubbly obscuring his common sense, the intense desire for her usurping the lack of confidence left over from his early years and pride developed in his later ones, “you’re getting ready to have a cause for rank insubordination because I’ve got to be honest. Before this night is over, I’d like to get real acquainted with those soft, luscious-looking lips of yours and find out if the rest of your body is as soft as your arm. How’s that sound?”

“It sounds like a man who’d like to get slapped,” Diamond retorted, even as the image she’d fought all afternoon—the one that had them skin to skin from head to toe—flashed in her mind. “It sounds like a cocky, arrogant jerk who has obviously gotten women to drop their panties way too easily.”

“Well, there is some truth to that.”

“I think I’ve heard enough.”

She got ready to walk away, but Jackson’s words stopped her. “Ask yourself why I’m so getting on your nerves, why you’ve been snapping at me since we’ve met. And don’t feed yourself the lame excuse that it’s because of not knowing who I was at the site.”

“Well, you should know about lame.”

“Wow, spoken like a princess reprimanding the help.” He continued despite her huff. “Maybe I should have come clean and told you I owned the company, but I’m glad I didn’t. My anonymity gave me the opportunity to see firsthand how you treat my men. And like I said this afternoon, you don’t have the right to talk down to them or anyone else.”

Did this fool just check me on how I handle my business on my property? “I’ll admit that your men have always been respectful, an area in which you could learn a thing or two. Like now, telling me how to act and what to say. Just who do you think you are?”

“A man who’s not afraid of your last name, that’s who,” Jackson replied. Mr. Bravado was obviously still riding shotgun. “And one who sees what he wants and goes after it.” Diamond got ready to interrupt him, but Jackson held up his hand and continued. “You’ve got quite the reputation among the men—powerful, no nonsense, untouchable. They say you don’t come to the site much, and when you do, you keep your distance. But I detect a fire underneath that cool exterior. We’re grown folk, Diamond, and I have no need to beat around the bush. I find you attractive as hell, and I want to get to know you better…a lot better. I think you want to get to know me, too. Am I right?”

Diamond’s chin took on its familiar tilt as she tried not to let Jackson’s words affect her. The fact of the matter was she was feeling him in more ways than one and not only that but she wanted him to feel her in more ways than one. He was a handsome, intelligent man who she’d bet her paycheck was an awesome lover. But after he’d sexed her real good, then what? And what about her rule of not dating within the workplace, not to mention the one about not having any more casual relationships with noncommittal men? If there was one thing Diamond could spot, it was a man with marital allergies. Her brothers Donovan and Dexter had shown her exactly what that looked like.

As if on cue, said brothers walked into the space and up to where she and Jackson were standing. A part of her was glad to see them as they’d provided an escape of sorts. But the other part knew that her reprieve was over. She’d avoided both her father and Donovan this afternoon, but she was in for a grilling later on tonight. “Hey, bro,” she said, reaching up to give Dexter a hug. “I didn’t think you were going to make it.”

“I just got in,” Dexter responded, eyeing Jackson as he gave his sister a hug.

“How was Baltimore?”

“Cool. Rainy.” Dexter took a step back. “Why are you so dressed up? And what happened to your hair?”

“Dressing up is normally required at a black-tie event,” Diamond sarcastically answered. She fingered her hair. “Do you like it?”

“Yeah, it looks good.” Dexter held up his fist to Jackson for a pound. “Hey, Boss.”

“Dexter,” Jackson responded, before turning to greet Donovan, as well. “Hey, Don. This is why I had to cut our meeting short, man. If I’d known you were coming here, I would have let you know.”

“Looks like there’s a few things I might need to know,” Donovan replied, before turning to Diamond. “I didn’t know you and Diamond were hanging out.”

“Just formally met her today, man. And now I see why y’all have been keeping her under wraps!”

“Yes, just how has that happened?” Diamond asked Donovan. “How is it that you, Dex and Dad have known Jackson ‘Boss’ Wright for a while now and I’d never met him before today?”

“No need,” Donovan said with a shrug. “You’d never been a part of the construction projects before, and most of our initial meetings took place at Boss’s office.” What Donovan didn’t share was that it was also to protect his baby sis from getting hurt. He knew that Diamond wanted to get married and knew that Jackson was a Casanova. Like oil and water—those two ingredients didn’t mix well. “Don’t let the smooth talk fool you, baby sis. This is a great businessman, but he doesn’t let the grass grow under his feet…if you know what I mean.”

“Don’t worry, Donovan. Our interaction is strictly business.”

Jackson chuckled but instead of responding to Diamond’s comment, still smiling, he addressed Donovan instead. “You’re being a bit hard on a brother, don’t you think?”

“Just keeping it real,” Donovan replied, his gruff words tempered by a smile of his own.

“Should Diamond grant me the pleasure of her extended company, I’ll be the perfect gentleman.”

Donovan eyed Jackson skeptically, even as he nodded at Erin, who was motioning for him from across the lawn to join the group she now entertained. “You do that,” he said, giving the construction owner a fist pound and then leaving the group.

Dexter smiled as a gorgeous Latina sidled up to him. “Hey, Maria,” he said, giving her a light kiss on the lips. “I think I’ll freshen up my drink and then we’ll take our seats. The concert is about to begin.”

“Shall we join them?” Jackson asked Diamond.

Diamond thought about sitting next to Jackson while listening to the sultry sounds of smooth jazz, feeling the breeze from the ocean and experiencing the accidental brushes of his fingers across her flaming skin. Not a good idea. “Thanks but I think I’ll network a bit more. Oh, and Jackson, I meant what I said to my brother. The interaction between us is to be strictly business. Have I made myself clear?”

Jackson slowly nodded. “Got it.” He stood there watching and appreciating her “business” as she walked across the lawn to join her friends.

Chapter 7

Diamond shifted in her seat, hoping that she didn’t look as unnerved as she felt. For the past thirty minutes, she could have sworn that she’d felt the heat of Jackson’s gaze on the nape of her neck. She’d known the moment he sat down directly behind her not because the woman next to him had immediately introduced herself and her husband but because there was a vibe, an energy, between them that alerted Diamond to whenever he was within touching distance. With every note that oozed from Paul Taylor’s saxophone, Diamond felt the heat in her body rise. She watched Paul’s nimble fingers as he keyed the melodious notes, but in her mind, Jackson’s hands were on her body, playing a song written for her alone.

“Do you want a drink?” Diamond asked her brother, right in the middle of Taylor’s solo.

Donovan looked at her questioningly. “You’re getting one right now?” he whispered.

Diamond nodded as she composed herself.

“I’ll have a beer.”

“I’ll be right back.”

She eased into the aisle and headed to the bar. Taking deep breaths, she willed her heart to stop its erratic pounding and for her body to behave. Before reaching the bar, she decided to take a quick stroll around the gardens, regain her poise, get the drinks and then take her seat once the song ended. The sun had set, and the night sky had come alive with thousands of stars surrounding a bright, full moon. Lamps were strategically placed throughout the garden, highlighting the various shrubs, flowers and other greenery. Diamond took the path nearest the bar and headed toward a fountain near the end of the garden’s east side.

Just before she got there, a hand reached out and grabbed her.

Diamond gasped, and in that moment, a tongue on a mission slipped into her open mouth. A strong arm wrapped itself around her waist, and another hand massaged the nape of her neck. The woodsy smell of Jackson’s cologne engulfed her, and even though her mind was telling her to pull back, slap his face and curse him out, her traitorous body was pressing against his, even as her tongue engaged in a languid duel. Before she knew what was happening, her arms had reached around to stroke his broad back, and she marveled at the power created by sinew and bone. Somewhere in her mind she felt one of his hands muss up her short do. Jackson moaned and deepened the kiss. His other hand traveled from her shoulder to the small of her back and lower still until it cupped her round, firm booty as if the most natural thing in the world to be doing on a night like this was to be ravished in a moonlit garden while jazz played in the background.

Jackson slowly raised his head and blazed a trail of kisses from her mouth to her neck and back to her temple. “I said I’d be a gentleman,” he whispered, even as he nipped her earlobe with tiny love bites, “so I should have asked to kiss you. But an apology at this point would be insincere. You taste way too good for me to feel sorry for what just happened.” Jackson ran a firm finger down Diamond’s arm. “May I kiss you again?” he asked. His voice was as soft as the kisses he’d rained down on her face. Her nod was almost imperceptible, but her acquiescence was all Jackson needed to raise the stakes. He pulled them deeper into the shadows, backed her against the ivy-covered brick wall and once again plundered her mouth with his tongue. His hips mirrored the movement of his tongue: slow, rhythmic circles as he thrust up against her.

Diamond wasn’t even aware that she was joining in the dance of this slow grind until she felt Jackson harden beneath her. Then she felt his hand on the silk of her dress, grasping her hip, easing along her waist and up to her breast. He tweaked her nipple, and Diamond felt as if she would explode. In this love-induced insanity, it didn’t matter that she was in a public place, mere yards from where her protective brothers sat. All she wanted was this man’s arms around her, with his body pressed tight against hers.

And then the audience applauded.

“Stop!” Diamond used the last ounce of her will and pushed against Jackson’s massive chest. “We…can’t do this.”

“I know,” Jackson readily agreed. “You’re much more than a quick romp in the hay or, in this instance, the garden. Here,” he said as he reached inside his jacket pocket and pulled out a card. “My cell number is on the back. Call me. Let’s meet up and…finish what we’ve started.” In the next instant, he was gone.

Diamond stayed behind in the shadows, willing her heartbeat to return to normal. She touched a hand to her lips and felt them swollen from the passion of his kisses. She felt that one look at her brothers and the message of what had transpired would be sent faster than a cell phone text. She’d been ravished by Jackson Wright, and she wanted it to happen again and again. Diamond knew it would raise eyebrows and questions, but she had no choice. She couldn’t get Donovan’s drink, return to her seat, hear the rest of the concert or say thanks to the host. If she was going to save any dignity at all, she had to run out of here as if the devil were chasing her. And that is exactly what she did.

Chapter 8

Diamond stood in her bedroom, ready to greet the day. This had always been one of her favorite rooms in the house, with its separate sitting area and massive bath. On her eighteenth birthday, she’d changed the color scheme from girly pinks and purples to a dramatic black-and-white theme. Just last year she’d changed it again. Now rich tan-colored walls and plush ivory bedding, both of which complemented the dark walnut floors, gave the room a sophisticated yet understated elegance. Splashes of color came courtesy of recently purchased Charles Bibbs artwork and freshly cut flowers that always occupied the coffee table and fireplace mantel. At times she thought about venturing out and purchasing a condo or house of her own. But then she’d come to this, her retreat, and forget every thought she had about leaving.

Diamond took one last look in the mirror. She looked calm and refreshed, thanks to a two-hour early-morning workout. This fresh look covered the roiling emotions she felt from her encounter with Jackson two days ago. For this she was thankful, since she was getting ready to walk downstairs and join her family for their traditional Sunday dinner. Everyone would be there, and she was sure all eyes would be on her. Why did she know this? Because she knew how her family operated, and there was very little that happened with one Drake that the others didn’t know about sooner or later. Donovan was very close to their father, Donald, so Diamond was sure he’d mentioned her encounter with Jackson and her refusal to discuss it when asked. Dexter was the baby of the family and a mama’s boy. Additionally, he couldn’t hold water if he carried it in a bucket—an old-time saying that meant he couldn’t keep a shred of anybody else’s business to himself. Knowing this, Diamond had basically avoided her parents for two days, which—even though she and Dexter still lived at home—wasn’t hard to do. The estate included a main house and three fully equipped guest rooms totaling ten thousand square feet. Each child had their own wing, as did their parents. More often than not, Donovan could be found there, too, even though he’d purchased a home near San Diego a few years ago. Diamond’s grandparents, David and Mary Drake, lived in one of the guest homes. Their ninety-eight-year-old great-grandfather still lived on the property, as well. These were the people Diamond saw as she rounded the corner and entered the dining room.

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