Mistress & a Million Dollars by Maxine Sullivan

SYDNEY’S SCENE

The world has witnessed everything from the sublime to the ridiculous while watching the decades-old feud between the world’s richest gem dealers, the Blackstones, and the Hammonds. But yesterday’s scene tops even that. Blackstones’ exclusive supermodel, Briana Davenport – the “Face of Blackstone” – was seen on the arm of none other than supposed enemy Jarrod Hammond.

The two were spotted together at the roulette table in the Crown Casino last week, and yesterday at the Melbourne Grand Prix. “They looked to be a lot more than friends,” said one attentive attendee. According to an inside source, Davenport’s contract with Blackstones is soon to be up for renewal. Locking lips with a Hammond may not be Davenport’s best move to ensure longevity with the diamond moguls. Then again, she may not care, if the consolation prize is the sexy Melbourne millionaire. One thing’s for sure: at Blackstones, the flawless diamonds may be costly, but the family high jinks are priceless.

Satin & a Scandalous Affair by Jan Colley

SYDNEY’S SCENE

In the decades-old feud between the world’s richest gem dealers, the Blackstones and the Hammonds, no one and nowhere is off limits. Not even Danielle Hammond, the up-and-coming jewellery designer who thought she’d escaped family high jinks up north in the Port Douglas tropics.

The flamboyant Dani has been hired by broker Quinn Everard to design for him – the same man who some time ago nearly destroyed her fledgling career with his caustic critique of her work. What would make the colourful Ms Hammond agree to that unique assignment? And just who is Quinn’s mysterious client?

The Blackstones and Hammonds, no strangers to rumours, are once again the topic of water-cooler conversation as rumours abound that the missing son of recently deceased founder Howard Blackstone may indeed have been located.

Before his death, Howard – dubbed “the man people love to hate” – left his billion-dollar diamond firm to the missing son, James, who was kidnapped over thirty years ago. Tempers are high at Blackstone’s Pitt Street offices – where the diamonds are rare, but the drama is rampant!

Mistress & a Million Dollars

MAXINE SULLIVAN

Satin & a Scandalous Affair

JAN COLLEY

www.millsandboon.co.uk

MISTRESS & A MILLION DOLLARS

by

Maxine Sullivan

MAXINE SULLIVAN

credits her mother for her lifelong love of romance novels, so it was a natural extension for Maxine to want to write her own romances. She’s very excited about seeing her work in print and is thrilled to be the second Australian to write for the Desire™ line.

Maxine lives in Melbourne, Australia, and over the years has travelled to New Zealand, the UK and the USA. In her own backyard, her husband’s job ensured they saw the diversity of the countryside, including spending many years in Darwin in the tropical north, where some of her books are set. She is married to Geoff, who has proven his hero status many times over the years. They have two handsome sons and an assortment of much-loved, previously abandoned animals.

Maxine would love to hear from you and can be contacted through her website at www. maxinesullivan.com.

Dear Reader,

When I sold my first book to the Desire™ line back in January 2006, the senior editor, Melissa Jeglinski, commented that the Down Under Desire authors should put a continuity series together – and the DIAMONDS DOWN UNDER series was born.

With much enthusiasm we set about coming up with story lines. I’d always wanted to write an indecent-proposal story, and this glitter and glamour series was the perfect backdrop for that. I really enjoyed writing about a hero who desires the heroine so much he is prepared to pay her a million dollars to sleep with him. Now that’s desire!

I had a great time with this book, and I’m so proud to have worked with such talented writers. Writing this series bonded us not only in friendship, but also as a “family” of authors. And, yes, a family who has arguments and who want to strangle each other at times. But I wouldn’t have missed out on this for anything.

I hope you enjoy our series. Personally, I think it’s fabulous.

Happy reading!

Maxine

To Melissa Jeglinski for “everything.”

To the Down Under Desire authors –

with admiration.

One

“We are gathered here today in the face of this company to join together Kimberley Blackstone and Ricardo Perrini in matrimony….”

Jarrod Hammond heard the words of the female marriage celebrant, but his eyes were drawn not to the bride, but to the woman sitting opposite him in the horseshoe circle surrounding his cousin Kim and her soon-to-be husband, Ric Perrini.

Adrenaline kicked in as he leaned back in his chair and let his gaze rake over Briana Davenport, the Australian supermodel who was the face of Blackstone Diamonds. Through the massive yacht’s large windows behind her, the late-afternoon sun highlighted the most glorious harbor in the world and created a picture-perfect backdrop for her beauty.

Framed by the Opera House and Sydney Harbour Bridge, and dressed in a silky, pale blue pantsuit that flowed as she moved, she was elegance and sophistication. The epitome of glamour. A crowning glory for the diamond company she symbolized. He could see why Howard Blackstone had chosen her to represent his business.

And just as expensive, Jarrod mused rather cynically, noting with satisfaction the exact moment she saw him looking at her. Her eyelids flickered just a bit before she looked away, but only someone with an internal radar for this woman would pick up on it.

Someone like him.

“If anyone can show just cause—” the celebrant continued.

Much to Jarrod’s displeasure, his internal radar was constantly tuned on Briana. It had been that way from the moment he’d set eyes on her at his brother’s marriage to her sister four years ago. It had been on high ever since, even though he knew Briana had a serious flaw. An expensive serious flaw. She liked money, and plenty of it, and went through it like it was going out of fashion, according to her now-dead sister, Marise.

Of course, being attuned to Briana didn’t help when everywhere he turned she was there in front of him: up on billboards…on television…in glossy magazines. Nor was it easy knowing they lived in the same city in another part of the country. Thankfully with her jet-setting around the world as a supermodel, and him with his law practice, Melbourne was big enough for the two of them not to run into each other.

“Ric, do you take Kimberley for your lawful wedded wife, to live in the holy estate of matrimony? Will you love, honor, comfort and…”

But now, seeing Briana in the flesh again—her oh-so-delicious flesh—reminded him why he’d inveigled an invitation to the Blackstone Jewellery launch here in Sydney last Friday and flown up from Melbourne. And why he was glad he’d accepted Kim’s invitation today. Being a Hammond at a Blackstone wedding was never going to be easy, but with Briana here, the day suddenly seemed full of sensual possibilities, despite the presence of millionaire Jake Vance, who once again partnered her.

“Kimberley, do you take Ric for your lawful wedded husband, to live in the holy estate of matrimony? Will you love, honor, comfort and…”

Jarrod’s mouth tightened as he looked at the man sitting beside Briana. The pair had been photographed together in the Melbourne papers at the St. Valentine’s Day races a few weeks ago. And again last Friday at the jewelry launch. Were the two of them lovers? Probably, he decided, not pleased by the burst of irrational jealousy he felt at the thought of her in the other man’s bed.

“May this ring be blessed so that he who gives it…” the woman continued.

Dammit, was he being a glutton for punishment by going after her? Hadn’t he already made his decision to bed her? A decision based on wanting to find out all he could about her sister for his brother’s sake. He’d seen Matt only two weeks ago and had been shocked at how worn and bitter he’d become. Jarrod and Matt may have been adopted, but they were closer than blood brothers, and he’d do everything in his power to make sure Matt found some inner peace—no matter what it took.

Or whom.

But he couldn’t blame his brother for being bitter when his wife, Marise, had died from injuries sustained in a plane crash almost two months ago, along with Howard Blackstone and four others. It had conjured up a myriad of questions: questions that no one had any answers to, except maybe Briana Davenport.

“Wear it as a symbol of love and commitment…”

Surely Briana knew why her sister had been on Howard’s plane before it crashed. And she knew if her own sister was having an affair with Howard, the enemy of the Hammond family ever since his greed parted the two family factions many years ago. She just wasn’t saying.

And then there’d been the shock of Marise having been named as a beneficiary in Howard’s will. A seven-sum figure and the Blackstone jewelry collection was a considerable inheritance for a young mistress. And that begged the question as to whether Blake was really Howard’s son and not Matt’s. Blake certainly had the same dark hair as Howard, unlike Matt’s sandy-blond head. It made Jarrod sick to his stomach to think about it.

“You may now seal the promises you have made with each other with a kiss.”

Dammit, the Blackstones had caused enough pain for his family. His parents would be devastated if they found out that Blake was not their grandson, but their great-nephew, instead. Not that it would make any difference to the way they felt about the child. They’d proven that by adopting him and Matt all those years ago. As for Matt and how he would feel about Blake not being his own…

“Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you Mr. and Mrs. Ricardo Perrini.”

Just then, as if his angry thoughts had drawn Briana’s blue eyes back to him, Jarrod held her gaze among the clapping and the cheers, and let her know with a look what he had decided. She was the woman he wanted.

She was the woman he would have.

While she was waiting to be seated for the wedding feast, Briana sipped champagne and listened with delight as the beaming and slender Jessica Cotter talked about her newly announced pregnancy. They’d spoken last Friday night at the jewelry launch, but it had been a busy night for both of them and their chat had only been brief. Now it was great to be able to catch up with each other.

“Ryan’s thrilled,” Jessica said, sending the man in question an adoring look across the deck where he stood talking to his just-married sister, Kim.

And the ruthless and handsome Ryan Blackstone smiled back. A warm, love-filled look that was meant for one woman and one woman only—his fiancée.

“You’re one very lucky woman, Jess,” Briana said with a smile, envious of Jessica’s happiness but so very pleased for her.

“I know,” Jessica said, grinning. Then her gaze slid to the woman standing next to Ryan, brother and sister clearly both Blackstones. “And doesn’t Kim look absolutely gorgeous? That white gown is exquisite, but with her dark hair and green eyes, she looks stunning.”

Briana’s gaze slid over Kimberley Blackstone, now Kimberley Perrini, who wore an elegant couture wedding dress. “I’ve got to agree. She’s stunning.”

“I bet Ric thinks so, too.” Jessica gave a dreamy sigh. “This must be so different from the first time they were married in Las Vegas. It just goes to prove that divorce isn’t always final.”

“I guess it all depends on the couple,” Briana said, thinking about some of the people she knew in the modeling world. Her profession wasn’t easy on a marriage. She’d seen some wonderful partnerships, as well as some horrors.

“By the way,” Jessica said, interrupting her thoughts. “Did you contact Quinn Everard yet about those diamonds Marise left in your safe?”

At the thought of her dead sister, Briana’s heart squeezed tight. “Yes, I phoned him the other day. I’ve been so busy lately that I just kept putting it off. What with work and trying to help Dad cope with Mum’s death and now Marise’s, it hasn’t been a priority.”

“That’s understandable,” Jessica said sympathetically. “You just make sure you take care of yourself, too.”

“I will,” Briana said, her eyes thanking her friend. “Anyway, Quinn said to drop the diamonds off at his office. He’s away at the moment but I can leave them with his office manager. I’ll do that tomorrow morning.” She grimaced. “Frankly, I’ll be glad to know their value so that I can decide what to do with them. Matt said he didn’t want anything of Marise’s, but I just can’t keep them.”

Jessica nodded. “Well, Quinn’s the man. He’s got an excellent reputation as a gem appraiser. He—” All at once her gaze focused on the men across the room and she scowled. “Oh no, I think I’m needed. Ric and Ryan look like they’ve had enough of each other for a while.” She rolled her eyes. “Men!”

Briana chuckled as she watched Jessica hurry away, but she knew that tensions associated with members of the Blackstone family right now weren’t anything to laugh about.

Knew it only too well, unfortunately.

Not that any of them held the controversial deaths of her sister and their father against her. They’d all been very considerate. Ric and Ryan had treated her with respect, and Jessica and Kim had become good friends. Not to mention the elegant Sonya Hammond and her charming daughter, Danielle. Though the latter two were not blood relations to Howard Blackstone, they were still related, and they’d shown her kindness at Howard’s funeral, and welcomed her warmly today.

Of course, she couldn’t think about the Blackstones without thinking about Matt Hammond. Her brother-in-law could be hardnosed but he was also a fine, upstanding man, and hadn’t deserved the legacy of doubts her sister had left him and their young son, Blake. His adoptive parents, Katherine and Oliver Hammond, had been wonderful to Marise, too, but her sister hadn’t really appreciated them.

As for the older adopted son…it was obvious to her that beneath Jarrod Hammond’s veneer of sophistication, he fully believed she and Marise had shared the same liking for the good life that Marise had enjoyed as Matt’s wife.

Only, nothing was further from the truth. Marise may have been flighty and always looking for something more, but she was happy with her lot in life. And for that she still felt guilty. If only she’d been closer to Marise, maybe then she’d understand why her sister had been keeping company with Howard Blackstone and why he’d left all his jewelry to Marise in his will. But no matter how she’d tried to breach the gap, they were poles apart. She didn’t understand how Jarrod couldn’t see that.

Just then, her eyes met the man in question across the breadth of the middle deck, and a hush seemed to descend upon everything in the room. An imaginary hush, obviously, though there was nothing imaginary about the hunger in Jarrod Hammond’s eyes. The hunger had always been there, waiting…for what, she wasn’t sure. He’d certainly made no move to further anything between them over the years.

Not that it would have done him any good. She wasn’t getting involved with another high-powered male. Not after Patrick, her ex-business manager and lover, had invested most of her money in a “surefire” deal and had lost it.

No, she didn’t need a man in her life.

And definitely not Jarrod Hammond.

Suddenly he started to walk toward her. She wanted to run as fast and as far away as she could, up the stairs and out on the top deck where the breeze off the harbor would cool her heated cheeks, but her strappy high heels seemed fixed to the floor.

And then he was standing in front of her, and she could do nothing but face him and try not to let him overwhelm her with his sheer presence.

“Hello, Briana,” he murmured as he leaned in close and kissed her cheek, his firm lips lingering just a whisper too long. “We seem to be running into each other a lot lately.”

She tingled. “Yes, we do,” she said, then saw his eyes darken at her husky tone. Quickly she cleared her throat, trying not to show that she cared he had touched her. “Um…but I didn’t expect to see you here, Jarrod.”

“Really?” A cool light came into his eyes. “Why not? Kim is my cousin.”

“Yes.” And one he must know more than the others, seeing that Kim had worked for the Hammonds until recently.

But that was merely a reason for his presence, not an explanation. The Hammonds and the Blackstones, despite being related, had thrown some pretty wild accusations at each other’s dynasties over the years. Marise had once briefly mentioned how Jarrod’s father, Oliver, had accused Howard Blackstone of some pretty dastardly things, including marrying Oliver’s sister for monetary gain. In retaliation, Howard had accused Oliver of arranging the kidnapping of his two-year-old son, James Blackstone. The child had never been seen again.

“Maybe I’m surprised to see you here,” Jarrod said, cutting across her thoughts, and she knew nothing much would surprise this man. She had the feeling he’d known she’d be here today.

“Kim and I have been working together on some of the Blackstone events,” she said, a touch defensively. “We’ve become friends.”

“Good. She could do with another friend right now.”

For a moment, Briana thought he was being sarcastic, but then she realized he was sincere. Something inside her softened. Kim had certainly had it tough these past few months, but coming from him—a Hammond who on his brother’s behalf now had another reason to hate any Blackstone—the comment was even more surprising. Perhaps he wasn’t as coldhearted as she’d thought?

“She looks beautiful, doesn’t she?” Briana said, turning away from him to look at her friend, mainly so she didn’t have to look at Jarrod.

“Yes, she does,” he said in a seductive voice that made her spin back toward him. He was staring at her.

Whatever had softened inside her now turned to mush. She had to force herself not to redden, her years of modeling doing nothing to stop the faint warmth rising up her neck.

She took a sip of champagne, then, “What did you think of the ceremony?” she asked for something to say.

His knowing blue eyes held hers a moment longer before breaking contact. He shrugged. “A wedding’s a wedding.”

It was such a typical male reaction that she had to smile. “Really? We’re at a lavish affair on a luxury cruiser in the middle of Sydney Harbour on a perfect autumn day, and the daughter of one of Australia’s richest men has just re-married her late father’s right-hand man.” She gave a rueful smile. “No, this wedding isn’t just any wedding. This is a Blackstone wedding in all its glory.”

The corners of his mouth curved with the beginnings of a sexy smile. “Do Blackstones pay you to promote them like this?”

She laughed. “I’d be stupid not to promote them, don’t you think?”

He paused, his eyes hardening as they swept over her features. “And you’re definitely not stupid, are you?”

Her smile disappeared. “That doesn’t sound like a compliment.”

Something came and went in his eyes. “I admire how far you’ve come in this business.”

She tried not to stiffen, but she did anyway. What was he implying? “It still doesn’t sound very flattering,” she challenged.

His lips twisted, then he appeared to mentally back off. “So you like to be flattered, do you?”

She realized he’d backed off only because he chose to. “Didn’t you know? I need to be flattered at least once every hour,” she mocked, then arched a slim eyebrow. “After all, isn’t that what all models are about?”

His eyes narrowed slightly, but there was a sardonic tilt to his mouth. “But you’re a supermodel.”

“So I need to be super-flattered,” she returned as a waiter offered to refill her half-empty glass of champagne. She put her hand over the glass and shook her head. She didn’t need more to drink. She needed her wits about her.

“I’m told I’m usually good at super-flattering a woman,” Jarrod murmured, once the waiter moved away.

Her gaze flew back to the man beside her and panic stirred in her chest. “I’m sure you are. Usually.” In a deliberate movement, she looked around for her date. Where on earth was Jake when she needed him?

And then she saw him listening with mild amusement to Danielle Hammond. The other woman’s coppery curls bounced as she moved her head animatedly, her full mouth wide and smiling in a friendly fashion.

“Looks like your date is occupied,” Jarrod said pointedly.

She glanced sideways at him and shrugged.

“So you’re not the jealous type?”

“Not in the least.” She enjoyed Jake’s company but, as handsome and charming as he was, he was only a friend. And thankfully he was someone who had nothing to do with the Blackstone dynasty and all its associated problems. But she wasn’t about to tell Jarrod any of that. “Danielle’s such a sweetie,” she added to show her non-jealousy.

“That she is,” he agreed slowly, but she could hear in his voice that he was still looking at her, trying to get inside her head and figure her out.

Pretending not to notice, Briana let her gaze wander around the room, forcing herself to concentrate on the other guests. Anything but concentrate on Jarrod Hammond…or let him concentrate on her.

There were about sixty guests and most of the faces were strangers to her, but she did see Sonya Hammond talking to Garth Buick, an urbane and charming man who’d been Howard Blackstone’s company secretary. They were only a few feet away and Briana could hear them talking about going sailing together. Something about the way they looked at each other—or perhaps it was the way they were trying not to look at each other—made Briana wonder if there was something between the two of them. If so, they were a good match. In her late forties, Sonya had a tall, willowy elegance that complemented the trim and well-toned Garth, who was just a few years older.

“Are you always so trusting?” Jarrod said, bringing her focus back on him.

She’d grimaced. “Unfortunately, no.”

His glance sharpened. “What happened to rob you of your trust?”

Heavens, how was she going to get out of this one? She only had to look at that firm jaw to know he wasn’t a man to give up when he wanted something.

“Nothing of interest,” she said airily, but her heart was pounding in her chest.

“Oh, but I think there is,” he said, confirming her suspicions.

“Let it go, Jarrod. It’s nothing important.” And to prove it, she scooped a canapé off a tray as a waiter passed by.

“Let me be the judge of that.”

“Ahh, but I thought you were a property lawyer, not a judge.”

His lips began to twitch. “And you’re obstructing the course of justice, Briana.”

“Or guilty of contempt,” she mocked, then popped the canapé into her mouth, feeling pleased with herself.

He laughed out loud, taking her unawares. “I didn’t realize you had such a smart mouth.”

Because she’d never let him know it before, that’s why, she mused, chewing the delicate morsel. She’d never let him get close enough.

So why was she letting him get close now? More importantly, why was he trying to get close now, she wondered, watching as his gaze fell to her lips and darkened, as if he were thinking about kissing her. She quickly swallowed, then took another sip of champagne.

Just then, the sound of a helicopter rent through the air as it came close and swooped the yacht. Far too close for Briana’s piece of mind.

And obviously for Ric Perrini’s.

“Damn the media!” Ric growled, striding across the middle deck to look out the side window of the cruiser right near Briana. “Can’t they leave us in peace for one day?”

It broke the moment between her and Jarrod, for which she should have been grateful but wasn’t. Instead she kept remembering that gorgeous laugh of his. It sent shivers of desire down her spine.

“I’m already on it,” Kim said, coming over to her new husband and slipping her arm inside his. “The captain should be on the phone right now to the water police. They’ll sort it out.”

“They’d better,” Ric warned.

“Anyway, we have more immediate problems. The photographer’s about to have chickens if we don’t let him take some pictures of us with our guests.” She smiled at Briana and Jarrod. “You two will have your photo taken with us, won’t you?”

Briana’s fingers tightened around her glass. She knew it hadn’t been Kim’s intention, but even a small mention of her and Jarrod doing something together made her uncomfortable.

“Perhaps later, Kim,” Jarrod said with a tight smile, then excused himself and headed to where an older couple stood looking out the back of the cruiser.

There was a flash of disappointment in Kim’s eyes and Ric stiffened beside his wife, before she quickly gave his arm a squeeze. For all that Jarrod was here today, it was apparent Kim’s falling out with his brother was still an issue between the Hammonds and the Blackstones.

For the Hammonds anyway.

To cover the awkward moment, Briana pasted on her best smile for the new bride. “Hey, that’s all the more coverage for me then. You know how I love being in front of the camera.”

Kim smiled with gratitude. “Thanks,” she murmured, just as the photographer appeared.

Later, when everyone sat down to dinner, Sonya asked Briana how she managed to look so good in front of a camera when it was such hard work.

“You don’t know the half of it,” Briana said, smiling across the table at the other woman.

“I’d love to hear about it,” Sonya said, the warmth in her eyes belying her cool reserve.

Briana obligingly chatted about some of the more obvious facets of modeling, yet she knew they’d all be surprised if she told them the truth. She’d fallen into modeling as a teenager but much preferred being behind the camera than in front of it.

Perhaps one day after she’d made enough money to recoup the money Patrick had lost, she’d further her dream. Until then it really wasn’t such a hardship smiling for the camera or showcasing Blackstone jewelry. And it certainly wasn’t a hardship attending a Blackstone wedding like this one.

Except for Jarrod.

She groaned inwardly. Lately he was turning up everywhere she went. At the jewelry launch the other night she’d never felt so self-conscious being on show before, but seeing him there in the audience, feeling his eyes upon her, she felt as if she was showcasing herself, not the Blackstone jewelry.

And now here he was at the wedding, sitting next to Vincent Blackstone, the late Howard Blackstone’s older brother, deep in conversation. From time to time, though, his eyes were on her.

“You seem to be pretty cozy with Jarrod Hammond,” Jake murmured in her ear, startling her when she must have looked at Jarrod once too often.

Trying to appear nonchalant, she glanced at Jake and saw a very male look in his eyes that reminded her too much of Jarrod. This guy hadn’t missed a thing going on around him. No doubt such ability was part of the reason he was now a rich and successful businessman.

But at least he wasn’t the jealous type, she mused. “We’re distant in-laws, that’s all. Nothing special.”

“Really?” he mocked in an arrogant way that said she wasn’t fooling him.

“You know, Jake,” she said, getting a little irritated being surrounded by males who thought they knew everything. “I think all the testosterone on this boat must be keeping it afloat.”

A surprised look entered his eyes then he burst out laughing. For a moment she stared at him, then began to smile in return. It was quite funny, now she came to think about it.

“I’d have thought a beautiful woman like yourself would be used to being surrounded by testosterone,” Jake teased.

“In the modeling world?” she jokingly scoffed, and received a chuckle from Jake.

“No, I guess not,” he agreed with a rueful grin.

Suddenly she caught Jarrod looking at the two of them. A slither went over her skin and quickly she looked away just as the waiter brought the next course. Once the food was served, talk at the table turned to other things.

Briana deliberately didn’t look at Jarrod after that, preferring instead to concentrate on the speeches and proceedings, though she was aware of him. Afterward, dark descended and they all moved to the well-lit top deck where the bride and groom began their first dance. Before too long, others had joined them, including her and Jake.

As for Jarrod, he seemed to have disappeared. She remained on edge, at first expecting him to show up at any tick of the clock, but when he didn’t, she quickly pushed aside the disappointment that filled her. She wasn’t going to let herself be disappointed by a man again, she reminded herself, then promptly did the opposite when she saw the lights from a small boat moving away from the cruiser, taking Jarrod back to shore.

He hadn’t even said goodbye, she thought, then something on the shoreline caught her attention. Myriad lights began to flash as the small boat approached them.

The media.

Not that Jarrod would give them a second thought. No doubt he’d stride through the pack to a waiting car like he was parting the Red Sea.

After that the evening seemed flat. Briana smiled and talked, and when it came time for the yacht to return to shore, she was glad that the security people held back the media circus while they made their way into a fleet of cars.

Lights flashed in her eyes as Jake guided her into the back of a limousine, but the media’s attention soon focused back on Kim and Ric, who had insisted they would only leave the boat after all their guests had alighted.

“They’re a brave couple,” Jake said, shaking his head as a shower of flashes seemed to light up the night sky through the back window of the car.

“Yes,” Briana agreed. “And very determined to show the world a united front.”

His smile disappeared. “I can understand that.”

The limousine drove off but they didn’t talk much while it weaved through the streets of Sydney to her apartment building. Then Jake walked her to her door.

“I had a good time,” he said, moving in closer, pushing a strand of hair off her cheek.

Briana knew it was a prelude to a kiss and she moved in closer, too. Jake had kissed her before and it had always been nice, but tonight she suddenly wanted him to kiss her like he meant it. As if she was the only woman in the world he wanted.

Only, when the kiss finished, one thing was clear. Jake’s kiss had been just a kiss. And by the wry glint in his eye he knew it, too.

“I think you’d better get some sleep,” he said, tapping her on the end of her nose with his index finger. And then he pivoted and headed back to the elevator.

Briana watched him go with a sinking feeling in her stomach. Jake was an extremely handsome man who knew how to treat a woman right. And he knew how to kiss. It was just a pity she hadn’t felt anything when his lips were on hers. Not like she would if Jarrod Hammond had kissed her.

Of that she was certain.

Two

The next morning Briana caught a taxi to Quinn Everard’s office and left the diamonds with his office manager. Then, after another couple of days in Sydney, including lunching with her agent, she caught a plane back to Melbourne on the Wednesday, and drove to her father’s house to check on him first. Then she’d go home to her apartment on the other side of the city. She still had to prepare for the Moomba Fashion Show this coming Labor Day weekend at the casino.

So it was mid-afternoon by the time Briana parked in the driveway of the solid brick home that her parents bought when they’d moved to Melbourne from Sydney nearly thirty years ago. They’d never been rich but had been comfortable. Her mother had even insisted on sending her and Marise to one of the top private schools here in Melbourne, after a spinster aunt had left her some money.

Now, when Ray Davenport opened the front door to her, Briana noted with concern that her father was looking tired. He’d been through so much, having kept her mother’s secret of the cancer that ravaged her body, until the end, when her mother had become so ill he’d finally told their daughters she was dying.

“Want some coffee, honey?” he asked, walking ahead of her into the kitchen.

“Thanks, Dad. That would be lovely.” She followed him, noting the stoop to his shoulders. “By the way, I dropped those diamonds off for an appraisal.”

He looked over his shoulder with a frown. “Diamonds?”

“The ones Marise left in my safe.”

His face cleared. “Oh, that’s right. You found them in your safe after the plane crash, didn’t you?”

“Yes.” Overcome with grief, she’d nearly forgotten Marise asking for the safe combination to keep some jewelry in there.

Briana had thought nothing of giving the combination to her sister. She’d also let Marise stay in her Sydney apartment once she and her father returned to Melbourne, after Barbara Davenport had been buried next to her own parents in Waverley Cemetery. It was then that Marise seemed to go off the rails, those last few weeks before the plane crash. Their mother’s death had devastated Marise, but for her sister to remain in Sydney had been unwarranted.

Especially after she’d started to be seen around town with Howard Blackstone.

Especially when she had a husband and a small son back in New Zealand waiting for her.

No wonder Matt had said he didn’t give a damn about any jewelry belonging to Marise. But she knew her brother-in-law wasn’t thinking straight, and that was part of the reason she’d decided to get them appraised. Perhaps if they were valuable they’d be worth keeping for Blake as a memento of his mother. Or maybe one day Matt would forgive his late wife and want the diamonds back. In the meantime, getting the diamonds valued was something she could do for her dead sister.

“So you’re getting them appraised, you say?” her father said now, bringing her back to the moment. Again she noticed he didn’t look well.

She stood in the kitchen doorway, her forehead creasing. “Dad, are you okay?”

A moment crept by.

“Dad?”

He looked up at her then, and there was a despairing look in his eyes that had her sucking in a sharp breath. “I’m a thief, Briana. I’ve stolen some money.”

The breath caught in her lungs. “Wh-what?”

“I stole from Howard Blackstone.”

She stared in astonishment. “My God! How much?”

He paused, then let out a shaky sigh. “One million dollars.”

* * *

Briana was still reeling from her father’s confession as she sat at the roulette table at the casino on Saturday evening. It had taken such an effort to keep her mind on the fashion show today, then again at the cocktail party this evening, but somehow she’d put a professional smile on her face. Afterward, not ready to go home to an empty apartment, she had stayed on.

It wasn’t every week a daughter learned her father had stolen a million dollars. And from a “secret” account he’d been told about while working as an accountant for one of Australia’s richest men thirty years ago, after Howard’s previous accountant had passed on that bit of information.

Nor was the reason her father had taken the money in the first place enough to stop Ray Davenport from going to jail. Medical expenses for his wife’s cancer, then a world cruise after a terminal diagnosis would garner immense sympathy, but in the end, the law would not condone embezzlement.

A lump wedged in her throat. With the newspapers continuing to report on the anonymous buy-up of Blackstone shares, she could just imagine how the media would hound her poor father, not to mention herself. They’d already gone through that after the plane crash. She didn’t want to go through it again.

Besides, it wouldn’t look good that her father had never forgiven Howard for firing Barbara when she’d become pregnant with Marise. Yet even after the Davenports had pulled up roots and moved from Sydney to Melbourne, the Blackstones had ended up an intrinsic part of their lives. In the latter years, Marise had worked for Blackstone Diamonds in sales and marketing, then Briana had found herself a model and the face of Blackstone Diamonds. And then Marise had been with Howard on the flight to New Zealand, and had died in the aftermath of the crash. It was crazy, but it was as if destiny had somehow wanted the Davenports and the Blackstones to keep a connection.

And how ironic that his supermodel daughter couldn’t help Ray out with money when he needed it. Her new million-dollar contract with Blackstone’s was due to be renewed in three months’ time, but nothing was ever certain until it was signed. Until then she had just enough to live on, thanks to her ex-business manager and lover, Patrick, who had convinced her to invest nearly all her money in an unbuilt apartment complex. It had sounded like a good investment at the time, until the developers had gone bust and she’d lost the lot.

She’d never told her parents about it, feeling like a sucker. They’d known she’d invested her money. They just hadn’t known she’d lost it.

All at once someone sat down on the seat beside her, and the hairs on the back of her neck stood up. She turned toward the man who suddenly and completely filled her vision.

“Jarrod!”

“Briana,” he murmured, his blue eyes trapping hers for a heart-stopping second.

She moistened her mouth even as she realized something. “You knew I’d be here, didn’t you?”

One brow rose. “Did I?”

“It’s too much of a coincidence otherwise,” she said, letting him know she wasn’t being hoodwinked.

He shrugged. “Perhaps.”

Her forehead creased. “You want to see me?”

“Oh yes,” he drawled, his gaze going over her long, blond wavy hair that tumbled around her head, before dipping to the creamy expanse of her neck and shoulders above the black cocktail dress, then further down and over the gathered bust held together by a diamond center clasp.

Her heart dropped to her toes but she managed a glare. “I meant that you wanted to talk to me?” she said, in no frame of mind to fend off his seduction.

He paused, his face turning unreadable now. “Yes.”

She waited for him to speak, and when he didn’t, she said, “Then talk.”

“Not here.” He got to his feet, his hand cupping her bare elbow, sending a warming shiver through her. “Come have a drink with me in the lounge.”

She looked up at him standing so close beside her, an air of command exuding from him, threatening to engulf her. She wanted to say no, but couldn’t think up a suitable excuse. “Just for a moment.”

Then she stood up too and his eyes approved the short, glamorous dress. Heat curled in her stomach, before he led her away from the crowds and into one of the lounges. It was quieter in here with plenty of small tables circled by large comfortable leather chairs.

He took her to some seats in a secluded corner that was much too intimate for Briana’s peace of mind, but when she saw some of the other patrons looking their way she was rather thankful no one could listen in on their conversation.

A waiter immediately came over to them, and she agreed to join Jarrod in a brandy. It would calm her nerves, she decided, watching him place their order, his self-confidence and sophistication an attraction many women would find appealing.

Dressed in dark trousers and a sports blazer with a white T-shirt underneath, he could have been a male model himself if there hadn’t been such a hard edge to him. Those blue eyes clearly showed that hardness, an arrogance that would never let anyone dictate to him, let alone a camera.

“No Jake Vance today?” he said once the waiter left.

“I gave him the day off,” she quipped.

The edges of that firm, sensual mouth tilted. “I doubt Jake would think of it that way.”

She doubted it, too, but she didn’t say so.

His smile disappeared and he fixed her with a candid gaze. “You and Jake are an item then?”

She lifted her chin. “I don’t think that’s any of your business.”

He considered her for a moment, a pulse beating in his cheekbone. “The two of you were having a good laugh together at Kim’s wedding.”

For a moment she didn’t know what he was talking about. Then she remembered her comment about testosterone keeping the boat afloat and a bubble of laughter rose in her throat.

His eyes narrowed. “So there is something going on between you two.”

She lost her amusement, not sure why he was being so insistent. “You wanted to talk,” she reminded him, crossing her legs, pretending this line of questioning wasn’t getting to her.

His eyes plunged to her legs in the ultrasheer silk stockings revealed by the ruffled hem, admired them, then rose back up to her face. “Are the two of you lovers?”

Her own eyes widened in dismay. “I don’t believe I’m hearing this.”

He held her gaze. “Tell me the truth, Briana.”

Panic stirred in her chest but she kept it at bay. “Why, Jarrod? Why do you want to know about Jake and me?”

“Because if he doesn’t want you, I do.”

Her head reeled back. “What?”

“I want you to be my lover,” he repeated firmly, leaving no doubt this time.

She gave him a glance of utter disbelief. “You can’t be serious!”

“You deny you want me, too?”

She swallowed past her suddenly dry throat, tried to speak and had to swallow again. “I can deny it and I do,” she lied, knowing she couldn’t admit wanting him. It would give him an unfair advantage over her. One he wouldn’t hesitate to use.

“Why sound so shocked? I’d have thought a woman like yourself—” he gave a tiny pause “—would be used to such propositions.”

Her blood pressure began to rise. “You mean because I’m a model?”

He inclined his dark head. “What other reason would there be?” he said silkily, as the waiter arrived with their brandy.

Her lips flattened with anger. At the wedding, Jarrod had made a similar comment about how far she’d come in the business. It hadn’t sounded like a compliment back then, and neither did this comment. Had he thought she’d slept her way to the top? It sickened her to think that, yet why she cared she didn’t know. It would serve him right if she called his bluff.

Why not?

“Okay, I’ll sleep with you,” she said, once the waiter left. “For a million dollars.”

His eyes flickered then became shuttered. “That can be arranged.”

Her brain stumbled. “What?”

He shot her a dry look. “Sleep with me and I’ll give you a million dollars.”

He’d well and truly called her bluff. “But—but you don’t have that kind of money to give away.”

His brows lifted. “You know that for a fact, do you?”

Oh heavens. Was she stupid or what? Apart from coming from a wealthy family, he’d made a name for himself as a property lawyer. Of course he’d have a million dollars to spare. What an idiot she was!

From somewhere she managed to scoff, “Ill-gotten gains, Jarrod?”

Contempt flashed in his eyes. “No. I’ll leave that to the Blackstones.”

“That’s my employer you’re talking about,” she said coolly.

“Doesn’t change a thing. The Blackstones are far from saints.” He picked up the two glasses and passed one to her. “Now, about our agreement—”

She took the brandy glass from him, but an acute sense of panic raced through her again. “Keep your money. I don’t want it. I—” She stopped.

She did need the money.

Needed it more than he could ever know.

“Having second thoughts?” he asked.

“No.” She took a sip of brandy, and wished her denial carried the same strength as the alcohol now burning her throat.

“We can always do with more money,” he pointed out, watching her as if knowing all along it would come back to this.

This being money.

Of course, she now realized that by even suggesting the million dollars she was playing into his belief that she was cut from the same cloth as her sister. Marise had said she’d fallen in love with Matt, but Briana suspected Matt’s wealth hadn’t hurt, either. And then there was Marise and Howard….

“A million dollars, Briana,” he reminded her.

No, she couldn’t do it. She wasn’t for sale.

Then she forced her heart to steady itself. What if she looked upon it as a loan, asked a small voice inside her. A loan she would pay back once her contract with Blackstones was renewed.

A million-dollar contract.

But if it wasn’t renewed? What if they got someone else to replace her as the face of Blackstone Diamonds?

What if—

No, she wouldn’t think about “what if’s”. Nor would she think about not repaying the money to him at all. It just wasn’t in her to be underhanded.

But could she make love to Jarrod Hammond?

Oh God. How much of a hardship would that really be? She was attracted to him, no doubt about it. Intensely attracted, if she were to be honest with herself. It wasn’t like she would be making a huge sacrifice and giving her body to someone who was revolting and wouldn’t appreciate her. Jarrod would definitely appreciate her. Oh yes. She didn’t know a man who would appreciate her better.

“Briana?”

She glanced at him then. He looked cool and calm, yet she sensed he was anything but. He wanted her just as much as she wanted him. So what harm would she do in sleeping with him? It wasn’t as though she would be doing anything against her will.

On the contrary…

“It’s a deal,” she heard herself say.

He scowled. “It is?”

“You don’t have the money?” she said with a rush of disappointment that was about more than just getting her father out of trouble.

His dark brows straightened. “I have it.” Just as quickly a considering light came into his eyes. “But now that I think of it,” he drawled, “a million dollars for one night is a bit too much money—even for the face of Blackstone’s.”

Her lips tightened. He’d been playing with her. “Fine. That’s it then.”

“No, I’d say it’s worth a month of nights together, don’t you?”

She stiffened in shock. “No! I can’t. A month is too long.”

He shrugged his broad shoulders. “That’s my offer. Become my mistress for one month and I’ll give you a million dollars.”

She swallowed hard. “That wasn’t what I agreed to, Jarrod, and you know it.”

“You agreed to sleep with me. True. But we didn’t mention a timeframe.”

She shook her head, not understanding him. “Why can’t you be satisfied with one night?”

He didn’t move a muscle. “Can you?”

She winced inwardly. Could she do it for one whole month? One night was so different. Or was it? Wouldn’t only one night make her feel as if she really were selling herself? Wouldn’t being his mistress for a month make her feel better about it all? Or was she just kidding herself?

“Briana, you want the money. Don’t deny it.” He waited a moment. “And I want you.”

She cleared her throat and ignored an inward shudder of heat that couldn’t be attributed to the brandy. “Who said I want the money?” she asked, trying to put him off the scent of her father’s trail.

“You don’t? Then it must be me you want,” he mocked, his smirk saying he’d backed her into a corner.

Mentally kicking herself, she raised her chin. “I’m not denying the money wouldn’t come in handy.” She saw the hard look that entered his eyes. “And I don’t deny that sleeping with a man such as yourself wouldn’t be a—nice experience.”

He smiled sardonically. “I’m glad you think so.”

“But a month does seem a bit too long.”

He swirled the brandy in his glass, then looked up at her. “Take it or leave it. But let me tell you, if you leave it, there won’t be another chance.”

Suddenly a feminine power settled over her, giving her confidence. “You might want to rethink that, Jarrod. After all, I’ve got something you want—my body. And if in a month’s time I say I want you, I’m pretty sure I won’t have to beg.”

His nod acknowledged her words. “Oh, I don’t deny that. But next time there won’t be any money involved, sweetheart. It’ll be just you and me. I won’t be offering a million dollars again.”

She gritted her teeth. He was a clever devil. Somehow he sensed she wouldn’t walk away from the money. What he didn’t know was that she couldn’t walk away from it. Not if she wanted to help save her father.

So what if she accepted Jarrod’s extended offer? The month would go fast. She had quite a few modeling engagements around the country to give her a break from Jarrod’s overwhelming presence. At least there was that.

And perhaps she could even prove to him that she wasn’t like her sister, she thought, then immediately rebuked herself. Why would she even want to? She owed Jarrod Hammond nothing.

She placed her glass of brandy on the coffee table in front of her. “I’ll give you until the end of the month. That’s three weeks. Take it or leave it,” she said, putting the ball back into his court.

A moment crept by.

Static crackled the air between them.

Then he drained his glass and put it down next to hers. “I’ll book a room,” he said, about to get to his feet.

Her eyes widened. “What? Here?”

He stopped with a frown. “I thought it might be easier for our first night together.”

“For whom?”

“You.” He watched her in silence for a moment. “If you like, we can go back to my apartment…or to yours.”

That was the last thing she wanted. “No,” she said quickly. “A room here will be fine.”

“Good.” He stood up. “Wait here. I’ll send you a note to say what suite I’ll be in.” He glanced around at the other patrons, then back at her. “I’m sure you don’t want your reputation to suffer if somebody sees us going up together.”

“Not to mention yours,” she managed to say, still reeling from what tonight’s outcome would be.

His eyes darkened. “I don’t give a damn about my reputation, Briana. It might be wise to remember that.” He strode off.

Three

It was silly to feel so nervous, Briana told herself as she tapped lightly on the door to the room fifteen minutes later. Heavens, she’d paraded in front of prime ministers and heads of state, done photo shoots in the middle of huge crowds, stood practically naked backstage at fashion shows, yet nothing made her feel as exposed as she did right now.

And was it any wonder, she decided when Jarrod opened the door to the deluxe suite and she met the full power of those intense blue eyes. Her stomach did a slow somersault.

And just as slowly, he reached out and curled his hand around her wrist, drawing her into the room before closing the door behind them. There he stood looking down at her, his hand still holding her, his palm warmly touching her skin, his thumb resting against the tender inside of her wrist where her pulse raced. She could feel him through every living cell in her body.

And then his gaze dropped to her mouth. He was going to kiss her. She could even feel herself lean just the barest hint toward him. Suddenly she wanted those lips on hers…wanted that body against hers.

“Have you eaten?”

His words snapped her out of her trance. Dismayed at how easily she would have succumbed, she stepped back, letting his hand drop away from her. “Just some finger food at the cocktail party,” she said, walking casually into the suite. A wall of floor-to-ceiling glass drew her attention to the city lights below, but Briana only gave the view a quick glance. The world was out there but tonight that’s where it would stay.

“You look disappointed a moment ago.”

Her heart slammed against her ribs as she glanced across at him. “I did?” She shrugged. “I thought—”

“That I wouldn’t waste any time getting you into bed?” A seductive glint entered his eyes. “Briana, being in your company, looking at you, isn’t wasting time. Far from it.” A smile touched his lips. “The ravishing comes later.”

Her breath quickened. He made it sound so…ravishing! “Yes—well—”

“Unless you’d like me to start now instead of ordering you some food?” he drawled.

She sent him a wry look. “No thanks. I’d prefer soup.”

His lips twitched. And then his gaze swept over her and awareness danced between them again, and for a moment she thought he really was going to come over to her and ravish her on the spot. And she wanted him to. Dear Lord, she did.

He broke eye contact and strode toward the phone. “I’ll order room service,” he said, his voice sounding gruff.

Knowing she had affected him, her heart skipped a beat. “I’ll just go and freshen up.”

He indicated across the width of the room. “The bedroom’s that way.”

The bedroom.

Carrying her small purse, she took her time to walk across the room, while fighting every instinct to break into a run and lock the door behind her like some frightened virgin. Wouldn’t that go down well, she mused with a dash of humor.

The problem was that’s exactly how she felt. This was her first time with Jarrod and she was feeling overwhelmed. Despite knowing him for years, despite now acknowledging to herself that she had wanted him for years, there was a difference in the doing. A huge difference. She doubted she could ever have prepared herself for this.

Needless to say, seducing women was par for the course for him. He would have done all this before. He certainly seemed to know his way about the suite. He’d probably even met some other women here, just like he’d met her tonight. Had he brought them up here, too?

No, she wasn’t going to think about that. She had enough to worry about tonight, she decided as she entered the lavish bedroom, her eyes immediately fastening on the huge bed and her heartbeat skidding to a screeching stop. She and Jarrod would make love on that bed tonight. The thought made her go weak at the knees.

She hurried into the equally giant bathroom and freshened her lipstick. Then she combed through her wavy tresses that bounced along her shoulders as she moved, though why she bothered she wasn’t sure. Jarrod would only mess her hair up, just like he would mess with her dress and…

Help!

She took some deep breaths. Okay, so she could stay in here and act like a coward, or she could go out there and face the music. She’d made a deal with the devil, but that deal still stood. And unfortunately so did the devil.

She didn’t stay in there long. There was no reason to hide from him or their situation, though she had a few things to say to him first.

“I hope I can count on you not to tell anyone about this,” she said, once back in the main area, her chin held high.

He scowled as he stepped away from the bar, carrying two glasses of wine. “Why would I? What we do is our own business.”

“As long as we’re clear on that.”

He handed her a glass and gestured for her to sit on the sofa. “I’m a grown man, not some high-school kid. I don’t need to prove anything by telling the world.”

She sank down on the soft leather lounge and hoped she could believe him. Patrick had been different, a fact she’d only found out after she’d ended their affair. Apparently he’d often boasted about bedding the face of Blackstone’s. She wished Jarrod was the same type, then she might have the strength to leave right now, but she instinctively knew he wasn’t.

He sat down on the chair opposite. “But first, tell me why.”

Her throat almost closed up, knowing instantly what he meant. “Er…why?”

His eyes said she wasn’t deceiving him. “Why you’re willing to sleep with me now and not in the last four years.”

She took a sip of her wine before answering. “You never asked before.”

And she knew the reason for it. He considered her the same as Marise and hadn’t wanted a bar of her. She knew that, and had felt protected by it. Until today.

“Oh, I wanted to ask. But you knew that, didn’t you? There’s always been an attraction between us.”

Her mouth went dry. “You’re imagining things.”

“The only thing I’m imagining is you in bed with me. And soon I won’t need my imagination for that.”

Her breath suspended for a full five seconds.

His eyes held hers captive. “Why now, Briana?”

She slowly released her breath and pasted on a cynical smile. “How can I refuse a million dollars and the chance to have sex with a man like you?”

He sent her a measured look. “Don’t try and pick a fight by insulting me. You’re here of your own free will. If you don’t want to go through with it, then say so now.” A heartbeat passed. “I want you with every breath I take, but I won’t force you.”

Her heart bumped against her ribs. Oh, how she wished she could blame him for all this. But he was right. She’d made the choice to be here tonight, if only for her father’s sake.

“It won’t be force,” she agreed, then saw him visibly relax, but he kept his eyes trained on her.

“Tonight is the beginning of our three weeks together, Briana. Nothing more. Are you clear about that?”

Her body immediately tensed. “Very clear. And by the way, you were the one who wanted the full month together,” she reminded him. Oh, how she’d love to tell him where to shove his money.

“I’m not talking about a month. I’m talking about anything beyond that. I’m not after a long-term relationship.”

She gave a derisive snort. “Long-term relationship? With you? I’d rather put my head in an oven.”

His hard sensual mouth lifted at the corners. “Now, that would be such a waste.”

“Not from where I’m sitting.”

He gave a light chuckle as someone knocked lightly on the door and called out, “Room service.”

Jarrod pushed himself to his feet and went to let the waiter in. Briana got a good look at the cut of his tailored trousers and blazer from behind. Superb. And so was the masculine body beneath it, she grudgingly admitted, even as she realized something else.

“Wait!” she hissed just as he went to open the door. She jumped up and almost ran across the room to the bedroom and out of sight. She didn’t want anyone seeing her there.

A couple of minutes later, Jarrod called to her, “You can come out now.”

Feeling slightly foolish, she straightened her shoulders and calmly walked back into the living area, constantly aware of his eyes on her every movement, and trying to keep her own eyes off him. He’d taken off the blazer, and the white T-shirt underneath exposed the muscles of his upper torso.

“Ashamed to be seen with me?” he mocked, holding out a chair for her at the small dining table.

She shrugged. “Don’t take it personally. I’d do the same with any man.”

His eyes hardened. “Is that so?”

She ignored the implication in his eyes and sat on the offered chair. “Don’t you know? The media would love to catch me in a compromising situation such as this.”

He walked around the table and sat opposite her. “I’d have thought you’d revel in media attention,” he said, showing his low opinion of her.

She flinched inwardly but on the outside, she arched a brow. “You really think I would welcome bad publicity?”

“No, I guess not,” he admitted, and she felt the tightness inside her unwind a little. “No doubt bad publicity wouldn’t look too good for the face of Blackstone’s,” he said, lifting the lid off his plate of food.

Briana felt the words sting.

Then he looked up and caught her staring at him. “Aren’t you going to eat?”

She shook her head.

He watched her with an observant eye. “Are you okay?”

Suddenly it all got the better of her. “Okay?” she choked, throwing her napkin aside. “I’m about to make love with a stranger, Jarrod. Is it any wonder I’m on edge?”

“I’m not a stranger, Briana,” he corrected calmly.

“For all intents and purposes, you are.” Unable to sit still a moment longer, and knowing she couldn’t eat now anyway, she walked over to the windows. “Can we please get this over and done with?”

Silence hung in the air behind her.

“Don’t sound so eager,” he drawled, but a moment later she heard movement. “Let’s have some privacy, shall we?”

Tension rattled inside her as the suite flooded in darkness, leaving only a faint glow from the city lights beyond the glass. She still didn’t turn around. She needed to focus on those city lights, to remember she was here for a purpose.

“Will you respect me in the morning, Jarrod?” She heard herself mutter the cliché, but needed to say it all the same.

“Yes,” he said quietly, close behind her, so close his breath stirred strands of her hair. “But will you respect you in the morning?”

She thought about that, surprised by his astuteness. His question had dispelled any hint she was selling herself, and she was grateful to him for that. “Yes,” she murmured.

And then his hands cupped her bare shoulders, the thin straps of her dress were little protection against him. “I’ll make this special for you, Briana.”

She could see his reflection as if they were standing in front of a mirror, the gleam in his eyes seeming to pierce the glass to reach her, seeming to suspend them in time.

Her throat thickened. “I know.”

All at once he slid his hand under her golden-blond hair, held it up as if loving the feel of it, then letting it fall like sparkling champagne over her shoulders.

“You’re stunning,” he murmured, admiration in his voice as he pushed some strands aside to kiss her nape in a gesture that was simply and deliciously sensuous. “A natural beauty.”

For a split second she tried to stay in control…tried but soon weakened when his kisses continued to caress her skin. She lowered her lashes, silently shocked at how easy she was succumbing to his touch.

Yet it wasn’t just this moment between them. Jarrod was right about there having always been an attraction between them. And that attraction had been unrelenting in its pursuit of them. Tonight, right now, was the culmination of it all.

She couldn’t help herself. She tilted her head to the side to allow him easier access—and she gave in. There was no going back now. Nor did she want to. She wanted to be in his arms.

Slowly he undid the zipper at the back of her dress, his lips whispers of sensation as they followed the lowering zipper, making their way down her spine, kissing her where no man had ever kissed before. It was a seduction of the senses that made her head spin.

At the base of her spine he let go of the zipper, and her dress plummeted to the floor and pooled around her ankles. She held her breath, frozen in this instant, watching in the glass as he straightened behind her, all the while admiring her lacy black bra, matching high-cut panties and thigh-high silk stockings.

“My very own model.” His hands splayed over her hips as he moved closer, letting her feel his arousal.

A moan escaped her but she managed to say, “Supermodel,” and was proud of herself for still having some sort of fight left in her.

He gave a husky chuckle, then lowered his head. He placed his lips against her shoulder and began to nibble at even more pleasure points she never knew she had. When his hands slid around to capture her lace-covered breasts and his fingers lightly squeezed her nipples with the sweetest torment, she moaned with wanting him.

“Too much?” he muttered.

“Yes.”

“Good.”

He scooped her up and carried her into the bedroom, spreading her across the thick bedspread as if she were a pleasure to be savored. She lay there in the lamplight and stared up at him. His eyes glittered as he took in her half-naked state, her breasts eagerly straining against the lace, the V-shape of her high-cut panties a sensual delight.

His gaze soaked her up, then landed on her face. “Do you realize I’ve never kissed you?” he muttered roughly, his eyes focusing on her mouth.

She inadvertently moistened her lips. “Same here.”

Neither of them smiled. The moment was too intense.

He pulled the T-shirt over his head, his chest bronzed and sprinkled with hair. He kicked off his shoes and slid onto the bed next to her. And then he claimed her mouth in a kiss that was so passionate it made her head spin. This first touch of his firm lips against her softer ones was more than she had ever expected, more than she’d ever wanted from a man—until now.

And then his tongue parted her lips and stole into her mouth, stole the breath from her, demanding she give him everything of herself. When she capitulated, his groan of appreciation sent a thrill through her as she clung to him like there was no tomorrow.

Right now there was no tomorrow. There was only him and her, and the wonderful sensations he was stirring inside her. He undid her bra and eased back, the lace falling away, and she quivered when his fingertips brushed her bare breasts.

“Aah, something else that needs kissing,” he murmured as he lowered his head and took a nipple in his mouth, playing with it with his tongue, then sucking in the sweetest of tortures.

Needing to touch him, to be a partner in this, her hands cupped the back of his head and held him to her. She loved spreading her fingers through the short hair, loved it even better when she slipped her hands down to his sculpted shoulders, then the length of his back to the waistband of his trousers.

He shuddered and muttered low in his throat, “You’re distracting me.” Then he took a deep breath and got to his knees beside her. “Now, what else needs my attention?” he teased, though his eyes were dark with desire as his palm glided down over her stomach, farther down where he dallied and stroked her through her panties, until heat washed over her and made her limbs tremble.

And then his gaze dropped to those trembling limbs, covered by the sheer silk stockings. “I love these things on you,” he rasped, slipping his finger under the band of one stocking, and ever so slowly peeling it down her smooth leg. His lips followed the trail until she breathed his name through parted lips.

He repeated the process with the other leg, and when she breathed his name again, his lips trailed back up to her thighs, up the center of her panties where he paused to inhale her.

He turned his head and looked up at her. “Are you sure?”

Tender warmth entered her heart. He was giving her another chance to back out, another chance to say no to all this. As if she could now.

“Yes, I’m sure,” she said on a whisper, and that was all the encouragement he needed.

He rolled off the bed and shed the rest of his clothes, and he was suddenly, magnificently, naked. She stared at his unashamed erection, the hardness of him, the powerful male perfection, and she knew that she had to have him inside her. She put out her hand to reach for him, then stopped.

Instead, she lifted her bottom off the bed, pushing her panties down and off herself. Her eyes connected with his as she held them in the air with one finger before dropping them on the floor like a flag of surrender. It was a surrender she willingly made tonight. There was no tomorrow after all.

Something smoldered in the depths of his eyes, and a pulse leaped along his jaw, making her hold her breath. A moment later, he didn’t say a word as he reached for the condom from the bedside table and sheathed himself, before coming back to her, kissing her deeply, the full length of his body pressing her down against the mattress.

She kissed him back, loving the feel of his hair-roughened chest against her own tender breasts, the heat of his arousal as he melded into her femininity, filling her completely. She felt like she had never made love before. Not like this.

And then he stopped kissing her, and his eyes captured hers with a look that was undeniably male. It was a triumphant look that said he was here, he had conquered and now he would take.

She thrilled to the silent communication, allowing him his moment of masculinity. And then he began to move his body inside her with long, slow strokes that had her own body raising to meet him with a feminine power of her own. Together they built pleasure upon pleasure, until slow was no longer enough, and fast and deep became a necessity, an essential part of their lovemaking. Of them.

And together they came as one.

If any woman in the world had been worth a million dollars, it was the woman next to him, Jarrod reflected the next morning as he lay facing Briana sleeping on the pillow next to him. They’d made love three times throughout the night. Three times and he still hadn’t had enough of her.

She was dazzling, this golden glamour girl with her velvet eyelashes fanning her smooth cheeks, and her blond hair tousled so sexily over her naked shoulders. The sweet scent of her gorgeous body drifted up beneath the sheet and reeled him in, making the blood pulse in his temples, rush through his body.

Suddenly he wanted her a fourth time.

And a fifth.

And he would have her, too.

Just not right now, he thought regretfully as he glanced at the clock and saw the time. Dammit. He had a meeting with a client in an hour. A very important one, or he would cancel it. But the guy was going overseas later today, and needed a Sunday morning appointment.

Sighing with regret, he slid his hand off Briana’s slim hip. It was probably for the best anyway. Despite his body’s urges, he needed a moment to himself. Why, he wasn’t sure, except that having Briana in his arms had been fulfilling in a way he’d never felt before. And that just didn’t make sense. Why did he have to feel this way about a woman beautiful enough and sexy enough to eat?

Yet it was more than a physical sexiness. It was something in her. Something that drew him to her. Drew many men, no doubt, he thought as cynicism gnawed at his gut. How many lovers had seen her like this? Probably too many to count. She may have put on an act about accepting the money, but she’d still accepted his offer.

She was definitely a gold-digger, even if something wasn’t quite right here. His lawyer’s instincts told him there was more to her taking the money than she was letting on. But what?

His dark brows knitted together. Perhaps he just wanted to believe she had a motive that wasn’t attached to the money. More fool him. In his experience, beautiful women couldn’t be trusted. They’d always wanted something, always had an angle. The only exception was his adopted mother, Katherine Hammond. She was lovely inside and out.

But his birth mother, an ice-cold beauty whose looks had started to wear thin, was out for all she could get. She’d given him up for adoption to remain footloose and fancy-free. She’d told him so the first time she’d come looking for a handout. The times he’d seen her since hadn’t changed his mind.

She and Briana would get on well.

Or would they, he wondered, his eyes resting on Briana, her sheer beauty making him doubt himself. But he had to remember she was the sister of his dead sister-in-law. She and Marise were the same breed of women. Out for all they could get. Marise had proved it with his brother. Briana had just proven it with him.

He slipped out of bed and reached for his checkbook, wrote out the million-dollar check and put it on the pillow he’d just vacated. Then he left Sleeping Beauty in the bedroom, closing the door behind him to go into the main suite to make a phone call. Soon he’d head home to shower and change before his meeting.

But as he hung up the phone, he heard a noise in the bedroom. He strode over and opened the door, but she must not have heard him. She was sitting up in bed, having wrapped the sheet around herself. In her hands was the check and she was looking down at it as if she was defeated rather than pleased.

Something twisted inside his gut, reminding him that there was more to this than met the eye. “Isn’t that what you wanted, Briana?”

Her head shot up, her wide-eyed beauty latching on to him. “I thought you’d left,” she accused, heat rushing into her cheeks.

Her reaction wasn’t what he’d expected from such a woman of the world. For a moment she almost looked…guileless.

“You mean, you were hoping I’d left,” he said, leaning against the doorjamb, fascinated by every aspect of her. What was going on in that mind of hers?

She angled a chin that was more defiant than delicate right now. “So you don’t feel you got value for the money, Jarrod?”

“You know I did. And it’s not over yet. We have three weeks of—getting to know each other.”

Her lips briefly stretched in a fake smile, then not. “How nice.”

“Yes, just like your ‘nice’ experience last night,” he drawled, reminding her of her words last night down in the casino lounge. Nice didn’t describe the half of it. “At least, I assume it was as ‘nice’ for you as it was for me.”

“Searching for compliments, Jarrod?”

All at once he’d had enough. As much as he liked verbally sparring with her, he had other things to do this morning. “What do you have planned for the rest of the long-weekend?”

She blinked, then wariness clouded her eyes. “Why?”

“I want you to spend it with me.”

“So soon?” she said with obvious dismay.

His mouth twisted. “Your enthusiasm is refreshing. Is that a problem?”

She took a ragged breath. “I guess not.”

His mouth flattened in a grim line. Anyone would think he’d asked her to give up all her earthly possessions. “Do you have any further engagements this weekend?”

She shook her head. “No, just some things to do in the lead-up to the Grand Prix next weekend.”

Yes, the papers were already advertising her attendance at the Melbourne Grand Prix. “Look, I’ve got an appointment with a client, but I’ll be back in a couple of hours to take you to lunch. And tomorrow we can go to the Moomba Festival together.”

“Oh, but—”

“I’ve asked them to send you up some new clothes to gad about in now,” he said, preempting her.

Anger flared in her eyes. “I don’t want a new set of clothes to gad about in.”

“Then wear none,” he mocked.

Her mouth thinned. “I prefer my own clothes, thank you.”

He glanced at his watch then back at her. Time was running out. “Just relax, order some breakfast and take another nap. You didn’t get much sleep last night. I’ll be back at noon.”

“And if I don’t want to spend any more time with you?”

“Then I’ll know you’re not a woman of your word.” He turned and walked out of the hotel room.

Four

After Jarrod left the suite, Briana wasn’t sure how long she sat in the king-size bed, cursing him, cursing herself for being attracted to such a man. He’d made love to her last night as if she’d been meant to be in his arms all along. He’d made her feel special and complete, taken her to heights she’d never imagined. She could still feel the remnants of his; her breasts were still tender from his touch, her mouth still swollen from his kisses, her lower body still sensitive from his possession.

And she had been possessed, there was no doubt about it. Possessed by him. Possessed by her desire for him.

The latter had been a shock.

She couldn’t remember even coming close to this with Patrick. No, Patrick had taken what he’d wanted, when he’d wanted in bed, but had never really given her the same fulfillment. Because she’d been in love with him, she hadn’t let herself think about it. Her love had covered up a multitude of his flaws…until her rose-colored glasses had been well and truly ripped off her.

And now Jarrod Hammond was making her feel special again, not because she’d fallen in love with him, but because he treated her as the woman he wanted.

She didn’t fool herself that it was more than sex—for either of them. He’d wanted to possess her body and he had. She’d wanted him to make love to her, and that was the reason she was feeling fulfilled. Nothing more. It was only about sex. Good sex, admittedly.

All paid for and delivered, she reminded herself, making a half-choked sound as she looked down at the check in her hands. She still couldn’t believe she’d given her body to a man for a million dollars. Her father would be horrified. She was horrified.

Yet, to be honest, Jarrod hadn’t made her feel as if she’d sold her body to him. And that was totally crazy. Any other man would have made her feel cheap.

What was she going to tell her father about the money she’d suddenly acquired? She’d found it lying around in an old bank account? No, too far-fetched. Only Howard Blackstone had kept money in old, “secret” accounts, she mused cynically.

Then the answer came to her. The check was one of Jarrod’s, so she would tell her father she’d asked Jarrod for a loan to buy more property. Yes, that was it! Her father probably wouldn’t think anything out of the ordinary, not with Jarrod being a Hammond, and with Marise being married to Jarrod’s brother.

Of course, loan or not, she still had to pay the money back. She just hoped to high heaven that Blackstone Diamonds wanted to continue their contract with her.

And if she couldn’t pay it back? No, she wouldn’t think about being beholden to Jarrod any longer than necessary. As it was, he had started to boss her around already, telling her to stay in bed and take a nap, buying her clothes, telling her to wait in the room until he got back, expecting she’d go to lunch with him.

Did that mean he expected her to do everything he asked? Would he expect her to be at his beck and call for the next three weeks?

She was no man’s plaything. Not even for a million dollars, she told herself as she pushed aside a sense of trepidation and asked herself what to do next. Oh, she’d keep her word to spend the next three weeks with him, and she’d no doubt enjoy some of it. But she wasn’t about to wait around this hotel room for him to return. If he wanted to take her to lunch, then she’d leave him a note and go home to her apartment until he called. She certainly wasn’t chasing him. If necessary, she’d meet him at the restaurant.

And she would still be a woman of her word, she decided, throwing back the sheet and pushing her naked body out of bed.

Of course, as soon as her doorbell buzzed, Briana knew who it would be. Despite having a doorman who was harder to get past than a crocodile, somehow Jarrod had managed it.

And now he stood there, looking like a man should look—handsome, confident, charismatic—sending her pulse racing into overdrive. She had no idea how much she’d been wanting to see him until this moment. Correction, how much her body had wanted to see him.

“You left your new clothes behind,” he drawled, empty-handed.

“I don’t need you to buy me clothes,” she said coolly as she turned into her apartment, only to find herself twirled back toward him.

Without warning, he kissed her. For heart-stopping seconds she tried to hold something of herself back, but he deepened the kiss. When a faint groan escaped from his throat, she slid into meltdown. Her lips parted.

Just as suddenly he let her go. “Not so cool, eh?” he murmured.

She forced her head to clear. “Talking about yourself?” she challenged.

“Talking about both of us.”

The nerves in her stomach tightened and she quickly turned into the living room. “How much did you pay the doorman to let you in?”

“He happens to be the father of a friend.”

She picked up her purse from the sofa and shot him a look of disbelief. “My, that’s quite a coincidence.”

He held her gaze. “Yes, it is.”

She realized he was serious. Either way, she needed to have some discreet words with the doorman.

“Don’t try and get him fired,” Jarrod warned.

“Who said anything about getting him fired?” she said in astonishment.

“Oh, I don’t know. There’s a certain look of revenge in your eyes.”

A smirk coated her lips. “That isn’t for the doorman.”

He gave a husky chuckle, taking her unawares. She wished he’d stop doing that. It was one thing knowing he was enigmatic, quite another to see his more human side. It was best she keep her distance.

She mentally straightened her shoulders. “I’m ready.”

His gaze traveled down over her outfit. “I can see why you prefer your own clothes.”

She glanced down at her sleeveless, slimline knit dress in vivid marigold, the material lightly rouched at the waist and harmonizing with her hips. It was sexy and flattering and she felt good in it, especially when she combined it with delicate high-heeled sandals in the same color. And heavens, she needed every bit of confidence she could find right now.

She looked back up at Jarrod. “Actually this was a gift from someone.”

A cynical look entered his eyes. “A male, no doubt?”

Ah, so they were back to that again. He thought she had conned every man she’d ever met out of something or other.

“Who else?” she retorted, walking toward him. One of the designers had given it to her after a fashion shoot, but she’d let Jarrod think what he liked. It’s what he wanted to think anyway.

Yet he frowned as she preceded him out of the apartment, and he was still frowning when she closed her door behind them. She hid a small burst of satisfaction. Good. Let him be the unsettled one for a change, even if she had no idea why. It would be too much to ask that he might think he was actually wrong about her.

Her inner poise restored, she headed toward the elevator. “Where are we having lunch?”

“Southbank.”

She inclined her head. “Lovely.” Lunch at a riverside restaurant would at least surround them with a multitude of people and would take an hour or two out of their day. She dare not think beyond that.

Only, once he’d parked his BMW Coupe in an underground car park in the city center and they rode up the elevator, she realized he was taking her to one of the top hotel restaurants, rather than one of the many places alongside the Yarra River.

Pity it wasn’t as crowded as she wanted, she mused as the waiter walked them through luxurious surroundings and seated them at a table for two overlooking the river.

The picturesque city views beyond the glass gave a feeling of spaciousness that would have been delightful if she’d been with anyone else. In Jarrod’s company, not even watching the slow-moving riverboats and the strolling couples along the promenade below could put her at ease. The world was still out there but it was hard to notice when she was seated intimately with a man who was now her lover and who intended to remain her lover for three more weeks.

“So,” he said, leaning back in his chair once the waiter had departed after taking their order, “tell me about Briana Davenport.”

“Read my bio,” she quipped, leaning back in her chair, too, pretending to be relaxed.

A corner of his mouth twitched upward. “I want to know about Briana Davenport, the person. Not Briana, the model.”

She shrugged her shoulders. “Same thing.”

“No, different.” He tilted his head, considering her with a slight frown. “I’m just not sure how yet.”

“Don’t tax yourself thinking about it.”

His eyes suddenly narrowed. “So you think I’m only interested in you for your looks?”

She kept her gaze steady. “You mean you aren’t?”

A muscle tightened at the edge of his jaw. “No.”

Oddly enough, she believed him. But it probably wasn’t a good thing to delve too deeply. It would mean having to consider why he was sleeping with her.

“It’s a bit late asking me about myself, don’t you think?”

He offered her a smile. “I knew enough to sleep with you.”

“Hey, don’t say that too loud,” she whispered, straightening and looking around but seeing there was no danger of anyone’s hearing. Thank goodness, she thought, her gaze returning to Jarrod’s.

A smile reached his eyes, then was banked. “Okay, let’s start again. What do I know about Briana Davenport?” He gave her a silent appraisal. “Hmm. You don’t snore.”

“I’m pleased.”

“You like to snuggle up against a man.”

“A natural reaction.”

“And you like to be kissed all over.”

“Shhh,” she hissed.

“It’s all true.”

“So is the million dollars.”

The amusement left his eyes and his gaze hardened, but just as quickly he arched a brow at her. “You don’t want to know about me?”

She looked at him long and hard. “I know all there is to know.”

“Really?”

She assumed a thoughtful expression. “You have no hesitation in taking what you want.”

“True.”

“You’ll go to any means to get it.”

“True.”

“You’re suspicious of beautiful women.”

“True.”

“Oh, I forgot. They have to be beautiful and greedy.”

“Now you’re getting there,” he said in a dry tone, just as the waiter brought over their first course.

But Jarrod didn’t seem fazed by her comment, and after that they ate in silence for a while. She used the time to recover from the constant barrage of awareness Jarrod’s presence caused. In her job she was used to being constantly “on,” but this was different. Being with Jarrod was being turned on.

They had just finished their appetizer when the waiter brought over a bottle of wine.

Jarrod frowned. “I didn’t order this.”

“No, sir, you didn’t. It’s compliments of the gentleman over there.” The waiter’s gaze went across the room to the gray-haired man sitting at a small table by himself, watching them. “For Briana,” the waiter added as the older man raised his glass at her.

“Send it back,” Jarrod snapped.

“No!” Briana exclaimed, horrified. She speared Jarrod a dark look then smiled at the waiter. “Please pour me a glass,” she told him as she got to her feet. “I’ll be back in a moment.”

“Briana,” Jarrod said through gritted teeth.

“Pour him one, too,” she instructed the waiter, turning away but not before she saw the glint of humor in the waiter’s eyes.

Laughter bubbling within her, her steps were light as she walked across the room with a natural smile on her lips. She couldn’t help but feel good that she was winning this battle against Jarrod.

Then she thanked the older man and spent a few minutes talking to him. He turned out to be a fan of hers and was a thorough gentleman.

When she returned to the table, Jarrod’s eyes burned through her. “Made an arrangement to meet later?” he snarled.

She shot him a dark glance. This was going too far. “No, but I can go back and ask him, if you like.”

“How much did he offer you? One million or two?”

She sucked in a sharp breath. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

“Isn’t that why you went to thank him?”

He sounded jealous, and the thought sent a weird thrill through her. Then she realized this wasn’t about jealousy. This was about belonging to Jarrod Hammond, as temporary as that was.

“He was just being nice,” she said firmly. “He’s a gentleman.”

“He wants to take you to bed.”

“So does most of the male population, I imagine, including yourself.”

A second ticked by, and a smug look crossed his face. “Ah, but I did, you see,” he drawled, his voice silky-smooth now.

Her mouth tightened. “I hope you marked it on that belt of yours with all those other notches.”

Sexy amusement flickered in his eyes. “You know something, Briana? I really like fighting with you.”

She ignored that, even as she privately acknowledged enjoying a verbal victory with this man every now and then. “By the way, it’s part of my job as the face of Blackstone’s to maintain good public relations. I wouldn’t want to offend him.”

“As long as they are only public relations.”

“If they weren’t, it’s none of your business.”

“Don’t bet on it, sweetheart.”

So, she’d been right to be worried about his thinking he could boss her about. Her chin tilted in defiance. “You don’t own me, despite the million-dollar check.”

His eyes grew cool. “No, but I do own three weeks of your time. And don’t forget you’re the one who suggested the million dollars. And you’re the one who took the money. I would have just been happy to go to bed with you.”

“Yes, and I’m the one who’ll pay the price,” she said, suddenly feeling sickened by it all. “I think I’d like to leave.”

Jarrod’s gaze swung across the room. “Won’t your number-one fan over there be offended if you don’t drink his wine?”

“Oh, you’re so right.” She picked up the glass and drank it in one go. Thankfully it was only half-full. “There.” She put her empty glass back down on the table.

Jarrod’s brow rose. “You can handle drinking it that fast, I presume?”

“It was only half a glass.” She went to get to her feet but all at once he leaned across the table and put his hand over hers, his touch heating her skin.

“Unless you want our little tiff in tomorrow’s papers, you’d better stay here and finish your lunch.”

Her forehead creased. “What do you—”

“Here we are, madam,” the waiter said, startling her as he slid a plate on the table in front of her. Not that she had much of an appetite by this time. Jarrod seemed to rob her of that once again.

The waiter walked around to Jarrod and did the same. “If there’s anything else you would like—”

“No,” Jarrod cut across him. “We’re fine.”

“Very good, sir.” The younger man left them alone.

Jarrod waited a moment before speaking. “I saw your fan talking to some guests at the table over there. They’ve been checking us out, so I wouldn’t be surprised if he said something about the bottle of wine. If you get up and storm out it’ll be in tomorrow’s paper.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t have acted like a jealous husband, then,” she said without thinking.

He actually looked surprised. “Is that what I sounded like?”

“Either that or a jerk,” she said as the rush of wine made her feel a little light-headed.

He grinned. “I think that wine’s gone straight to your head.”

“No.”

“Yes,” he insisted.

“Okay, just a little,” she acknowledged, finding it easier to give in this time. “But I’m used to it.”

“Really?” he mocked.

“I don’t have a drinking problem, if that’s what you’re implying.” But somehow she couldn’t seem to summon up much anger. She was beginning to feel relaxed and mellow. And, oh my, Jarrod Hammond really was a hunk. And that slow smile…combined with his expert hands…

“I think we’d better finish lunch,” he said, breaking into her thoughts, “then I’ll take you home.”

Would he make love to her?

“Come on, eat. It’ll soak up some of that wine. The media would have a field day if they heard the face of Blackstone’s was drunk off her face.”

That brought her out of her trance. He was right. It could jeopardize her contract renewal. And then she wouldn’t have the money to repay Jarrod….

She took a steadying breath, picked up her fork and started eating. Not long after, Jarrod began speaking of general things and she was glad to answer. Polite conversation she was used to. Personal, she was not.

She refused dessert but as they drank their coffee, he sat there looking at her. “How do you feel now?”

“Back to normal. The food helped.”

“Good.” His eyes took on a sudden sensual warmth that made her heart start hammering. “Now that you’re no longer tipsy, I’m going to take you back to my apartment.”

Her mouth turned dry. “Why?”

“I want to make love to you. I want you in my bed. Today. Tonight. Right now.”

She gave a soft gasp. “Don’t say things like that, Jarrod.”

“Does it offend you?”

Unfortunately, no.

“It…unsettles me,” she admitted, not knowing why she was even admitting that to him.

His gaze took on a piercing look. “I thought you’d be used to men saying they wanted you in their bed.”

“Then you’d be wrong.”

He gave her a sharp look, as if he had trouble believing that. Then he signaled to the waiter to bring over the check, and before too long they were walking back through the restaurant, through the diminishing crowd of people. The older gentleman had gone, and so had the other people, and that made her wonder if Jarrod had just made that up to keep her here.

But why keep her here when he wanted to take her to his home and make love to her?

And he proved that point as soon as they stepped inside his downtown apartment. She had a glimpse of luxurious surroundings before he swept her up in his arms and carried her into his bedroom.

“I almost hate to take this dress off you,” he said in a gravelly voice, slipping it over her head anyway. “It’s so very sexy.” His gaze slid down over her bra and panties. “You’re very sexy.”

And then he pulled her toward him and his lips found hers, his kiss flooding her with want and need and must haves. Before too long she was aware of a mattress giving way beneath her, of his hands cupping her breasts, touching her secret parts. Then he entered her in one swift movement. When he started to move inside her, hard muscle against soft satin, desire exploded inside her. Finally…finally…he consumed her.

It was dark when she woke and she had to gather her bearings. Her job took her all over the place, so she was used to waking up in strange beds. Alone.

“It’s eight-fifteen,” a deep male voice rumbled in her ear.

Jarrod!

“At night?” She should move, instead of lying there in the curve of his shoulder, her face pressed against his warm skin.

“I suppose we could be having an eclipse,” he joked in a husky voice, his sense of humor surprising her. It wasn’t something that came to mind with this man.

She stayed where she was. She couldn’t seem to find the energy to move. “Why didn’t you wake me?”

“I’ve been asleep, too. Neither of us got much sleep last night, remember?”

Everything came flooding back. The casino. The million dollars. Being possessed by this man.

Suddenly panicked, she lifted her head. “I’d better get back to my apartment.”

“Why?”

She looked up at him in the dim light, trying to focus, trying to think, but it was hard when “God’s gift to women” was beneath her. “Um—so I can go to—”

“Bed? You’re already in bed. With me.”

She moistened her lips. “I need to shower and get something to eat.”

“No problem. I’ll order in pizza. We’ll sit on the balcony and watch the Moomba fireworks light up the sky.” All at once, he put her away from him and rolled out of bed. Naked. And then he pulled her up on her feet. Naked.

“What are you doing?”

He bent and scooped her up in his arms. Naked. “We’re going to take a shower first.”

“Together?”

His brow rose as he carried her into the bathroom. “You have a problem with that?” he said, his blue eyes sure she wouldn’t object.

And for once she didn’t. “No.”

He gave her a look of mild surprise. “Sweet acquiescence?”

She nodded. “Maybe.”

His eyes dropped to her mouth. “I think I like it.”

Her heartbeat accelerated. “Don’t get too used to it.”

“That’s good. Because I kind of like that snappy Briana Davenport, too, remember.” He stood her inside the glass cubicle and picked up the soap. “And now, let’s see what type of fireworks we can make for ourselves tonight.”

She opened her mouth to jokingly point out that water would put out any fireworks, but his kiss stole her words away. Before too long she didn’t care anyway. She went up in flames first, then he joined her, and it proved one thing. They were combustible together, wet or not.

Afterward, he left her on the bed and walked out of the room with a towel wrapped around his hips, saying he’d be back shortly. Satiated but trying not to show it too much, Briana pulled the edge of the comforter over her nakedness. It was silly to even consider hiding her body, but she was still tingling from his touch. She had been putty in his hands. And that wasn’t good. Not good at all.

He was back in a few moments, carrying a woman’s robe. He came over to the bed and held it open for her, but she stared at the oyster-colored silk as if it carried the bubonic plague.

“Don’t worry. It’s new.”

“Order in a supply, did you?” she said, relieved not to be offered something worn by one of his previous lovers. Then she saw the label still attached to the sleeve. She glanced up at him. “This is one of the pieces you bought at the casino.”

“Yes.”

She almost said something about his getting his money’s worth, but she didn’t want to bring that up. Not right now. Not after he’d made such wonderful love to her. Besides, her brain was tired from fighting.

She let her mouth ease into a smile. “I hope you don’t plan on me wearing them all.”

A surprised glint of amusement appeared in his eyes. “That was my intention.”

“Good luck,” she quipped, throwing the cover aside in an attempt to be blasé. Then she got up and slipped into the robe. “You’re going to need it, mister.”

A moment’s silence met her ears, and she looked back at Jarrod behind her, only to find his eyes dark with desire.

He turned her in his arms to face him. “Lady, having you in that robe is all the luck I need,” he murmured huskily, his gaze raking down her bare skin exposed by the open gown, making slow warmth heat her cheeks.

“Um…what about the pizza?”

“They deliver late.”

He kissed her then and it turned her inside out, and soon he had slipped the robe back off her shoulders, slowly, slowly making love to her once more.

As Briana watched him enter her, she knew one thing. It was wonderful to be wanted by a man who wanted her. Not just Briana, the model.

Five

The sound of muffled voices out in the living room woke Briana the next morning, but it was the angry undertone in Jarrod’s voice that made her sit up and listen. She hadn’t quite heard that disdainful tone before. She’d been the recipient of his derision, but his voice held so much contempt she felt sorry for the other person.

“This is the last time, Anita,” he was saying now, in a firm tone that brooked no argument.

“How can you say that, Jarrod? I’m your mother,” a woman’s voice said tearfully, making Briana gasp.

“You are not my mother. My mother is back in New Zealand looking after my sick father.”

“And who gave you the opportunity to be a Hammond?” Anita said, her tone coldly unemotional now. “If it hadn’t been for me, you would never have been given that silver spoon in your mouth.”

He made a harsh sound. “Yes, I suppose that’s the only decent thing you ever gave me.”

“There you are, then. You should be grateful.”

“Anita, don’t pretend you gave me up for adoption for my sake. It was for you, and you alone.”

Briana was out of bed by this time and slipping into the silk robe, curious in spite of herself. She had to see what Jarrod’s real mother looked like.

“That may be so,” Anita was saying as Briana tiptoed up to the bedroom doorway. “But I need money, Jarrod, otherwise I’ll lose the house.”

“That’s not my concern,” he snapped, as Briana carefully peeked around the doorframe and saw a petite, well-dressed blonde facing her hostile son. But even from here, Briana could see the hardness in her face. It was written clearly in her eyes and in the tight way she held her mouth. This woman was out for all she could get.

“You can spare ten thousand dollars for a loan, Jarrod. You probably make that much money every time you go to sleep.”

“I work hard for my money. I invested it well.”

“We’re not all good money managers, son.”

“Don’t call me that,” he growled, then swore and strode over to his briefcase and took out his checkbook. “This is it, Anita. This is all you’re getting.” He quickly wrote out the check, then shoved it at her. “Now here. Take it. And don’t ever come back.”

The woman greedily snatched the check, read the amount, and her eyes widened with glee. She folded the paper and put it in her handbag. “I won’t come back. I promise.” A minute later, she left without a word of thanks, or regret, and Briana’s heart squeezed with hurt for Jarrod. He didn’t deserve a mother like that. No one did.

“You can come out now, Briana.”

She stepped away from the door with as much aplomb as she could. “How did you know I was there?” she asked, moving into the living room.

“I heard the swish of your walk.”

“Oh, you did not,” she chided, slightly embarrassed. He’d been much too busy with Anita.

“I did.” His eyes slid over her with lazy sensuality. “Like now.”

The arm of the sofa was close by, so she casually sat herself down on it, her knees weak. Then she took a breath and concentrated on the woman who had angered him so much. “She’ll come back, you know.”

All at once, he turned toward the patio door, but not before she’d seen the bleakness in his eyes. “Yes, I know.”

“Will you give her more money?”

His shoulders stiffened but he didn’t turn around. “No. She’s gotten enough out of me over the years.”

She soaked up this information as she considered the tense line of his back beneath the gray polo shirt and black trousers. His clothes may be casual but their quality wasn’t. Neither was the tumultuous feelings he must hold inside him.

“How long have you known her?” she asked, not sure he would share any information with her.

He remained where he was. Then, “Anita first came looking for money in my early twenties.”

Her heart softened with sympathy. How terrible that his mother had come looking for money, and not her son. “Does she come often?”

“She turns up every couple of years and asks for a ‘loan,’” he said, and this time he did spare her a look over his shoulder, his eyes filled with cynicism.

Briana stood up and went beside him. “You don’t owe her anything,” she said quietly.

“I know.”

She put her hand on his arm. “But I guess it’s hard to cut ties, no matter what she’s done to you.”

He glanced at her, put his hand over hers. “She never hesitated to give me up, you know,” he said, surprising her with the admission. “She told me so the first time I met her. She said she’d been young and single, and a baby would have tied her down, and she’d had no intention of giving up her freedom.”

Briana winced at the other woman’s insensitivity. She hated thinking how he must have felt when he discovered she had so easily given him away. Up until then he had probably given his mother an excuse, some leeway, as to why she’d given him up. But to face the reality that she just hadn’t wanted a baby, hadn’t wanted him, and worse, that she hadn’t cared, must have been a dreadful shock.

“She’s just selfish, Jarrod. Lots of single mothers keep their babies, even back then.”

He dropped his hand and turned to face her. “Exactly. If she’d given me up for me, then I could have forgiven her. But it was all for her.” His jaw clenched. “I was better off without her.”

“Absolutely.” She paused, not sure whether to ask or not. “What about your real father?”

He shrugged. “Apparently he died years ago.”

She arched a brow. “You were never curious about him?”

“No. Should I have been?” He grimaced. “Look, I was never curious about my birth parents. Never. I had a terrific upbringing and so did Matt. As far as I’m concerned, Katherine and Oliver Hammond are my real parents and Matt is my real brother.”

Her throat almost closed up for a moment. “Good for you,” she said huskily, and meant it. She was beginning to see a new side to the Hammond family that was no longer tarred by Marise’s somewhat sarcastic comments. Not that she hadn’t liked the Hammonds when she’d met them at Marise’s wedding and the few times since. Only, now she could see a different dimension to them, and she liked what she saw.

She gave a slight smile. “It may sound crazy, but when I first heard how Howard believed his kidnapped son was alive, I thought for a moment it might have been you.”

Jarrod snorted. “There’s a thought. Son to Anita Stirling or Howard Blackstone? What a choice!” He shook his head. “No, I’m afraid I’m not the missing heir to the Blackstone fortune. Thank God!”

Briana had to agree with him. He’d been adopted by the Hammonds, raised by the Hammonds—he was a Hammond. To find out he actually belonged to his family’s enemy would have been hard to take. And now that she knew how cruelly his mother had abandoned him, the blow would be doubly hard.

Not that he wouldn’t rise above it, she knew, admiration stirring inside her with a new understanding of this man.

He put his hand under her chin, and for one heart-stopping moment held her gaze. Then he leaned forward and kissed her softly on the lips.

“Thank you,” he said, lifting his head.

“For?”

“Listening. Understanding.”

Her stomach fluttered like a butterfly’s wings. “I’m told I have a good ear for listening.”

He lifted a finger and ran it around her ear. “They’re beautiful ears. Perfect.” He placed his lips against it, then gently tugged at her lobe with this teeth.

She groaned as his lips began making their way down her throat. “Um—weren’t we going to the—”

Where were they going?

Oh yes.

“—Moomba Festival?” she finished.

“After.”

“After?” she murmured.

“After we make love.”

Regardless of the way Jarrod made love to her—with a passion that hadn’t diminished despite the numerous times he’d taken her in the last thirty-six hours—Briana didn’t deceive herself that anything had changed.

And obviously he’d thought the same. He certainly seemed in a hurry to dress and leave the room afterward, saying he had some work to do before they went to the festival. That was probably so, but she suspected he needed some time to himself. It wasn’t every day a man like him let a woman see his vulnerable side.

Still, she was relieved he had put up that wall of reserve again. It made her remember that the only reason they were together right now was the money.

So why fool herself that what she knew about him now made any difference? His dislike of the woman he thought she was hadn’t changed. He still put her in the same category as Marise—and as his mother.

Having met the older woman, Briana felt doubly insulted. She got out of bed, showered and dressed in one of the outfits Jarrod had bought in the casino. It was either that or put on yesterday’s clothes.

Then she left the bedroom and poured herself a much-needed cup of coffee. She was standing with her back against the black granite counter and sipping the hot liquid when Jarrod spoke from the doorway.

“You look great.”

She glanced up into his approving gaze. “Thanks,” she said somewhat sourly.

“I mean it,” he said, obviously sensing her withdrawal.

“I know.”

“And?”

“What do you want me to say, Jarrod? That I’ve been waiting all my life for you to come along and tell me how wonderful I look?”

His forehead creased in a deep scowl. “What’s the matter with you?”

She took a deep breath and told herself to take things easy. Okay, so nothing had changed, but then had she really wanted it to? Besides, if he wanted to consider her a money-hungry gold-digger, then nothing she said or did would change his mind.

She pasted on a sickly sweet smile. “How can there be anything wrong when everything is so right?”

He shot her a wry look. “Yes, I can see that,” he mocked, but there was also a guarded look in his eyes, as if he suspected she was feeling hurt because he’d shut her out after they’d made love.

Well, she wasn’t.

She placed her cup on the sink and tried to sound casual as she said, “I know it’s out of our way, but can we go to my apartment first? I’d like to get my camera so I can take some pictures of the festival.”

His eyes gave a flicker of surprise. “I have a camera you can use.”

“No, that’s fine. I’d prefer to use my own camera. It’s a very expensive one.”

“And you think mine isn’t?”

She conceded the point. “A camera’s a rather—personal thing.”

He scrutinized her response. “I never thought of it that way.” Then studied her further. “You like taking pictures, do you?”

All at once she felt uncomfortable. “It’s a change from being on the other side of the lens.”

He stared hard for a moment longer. “Give me five minutes, then I’ll be ready to go,” he said, and turned and walked into his study.

An hour later, they’d found a good vantage point along Swanston Street. The Moomba Festival was Australia’s biggest community festival and a Melbourne tradition for over fifty years, with firework shows, outdoor movies, the Moomba parade and lots of water-related activities on the Yarra River.

The parade was the highlight of the Moomba Festival and Melbourne families turned out in droves, creating a sea of color and excitement.

The celebrations continued in Alexandra Gardens and along the riverfront, with live entertainment, roving performers and water sports. Briana strolled next to Jarrod, clicking her camera whenever she saw something of interest. She particularly liked taking pictures of people’s faces when they were unaware of it. She loved to capture the wondrous expression of a child watching a magician, or the parents watching that child with such love on their faces.

“Don’t you get sick of people looking at you?” Jarrod asked after she’d taken a picture of a group of people who’d kicked off their shoes and were having dancing lessons.

She looked at him, startled. “Do they? I hadn’t noticed.”

“Everyone’s recognizing you.”

“Maybe it’s the camera. Maybe they think I’m someone important.”

“You are someone important.”

She laughed that aside. “Only to my father.”

He looked at her a moment or two, a rare, soft light entering his eyes.

Her heart skipped a beat. “What’s the matter?”

“You are.”

“Why?”

He gave a slight smile. “Maybe one day I’ll tell you.”

Just then someone jostled them and the moment was broken. She quickly glanced down and pretended to check a setting on the camera, his comment reminding her there never was going to be a “one day” for them.

When she looked up again, she trained her camera on some children having their faces painted. The thought that she and Jarrod were going their separate ways at the end of the month brought an unwelcome lump to her throat. Yet she didn’t want to feel even the slightest bit miserable about that. So why did she?

“Do you like being a model?” Jarrod asked as they continued their stroll in the sunshine.

She stumbled a little and he put his hand out to steady her. “That’s an odd question.” She could feel his warm, firm touch through her sleeve. “Why do you ask?”

“You seem to have quite a talent behind the camera.”

She was surprised by his perception. “Thank you. I enjoy it.”

“Perhaps it’ll turn into more than a hobby.”

“Perhaps,” she agreed in a noncommittal voice, and moved to take another photograph, making Jarrod drop his hand from her arm. She felt awkward, being unused to sharing her dream with anyone. Not even Patrick had noticed her talent for taking pictures. He’d been too busy complaining she had been ignoring him.

Just then she spied a vendor selling hot dogs, and her stomach growled, reminding her she hadn’t eaten. “Hey, how about we get some hot dogs for lunch?”

“Pizza last night, hot dogs today. Sure you don’t want to go to a restaurant?”

“No, this is fine.” She glanced around. “Let’s grab some food and go sit on that bench down there on the riverbank.”

“Good idea.”

A few minutes later, Briana placed her camera on the bench between her and Jarrod to keep it safe, and then she began eating her hot dog.

“You look like you’re enjoying that,” Jarrod remarked.

She nodded. “I am.”

His eyebrow rose a fraction. “So you don’t watch your weight?”

“Of course I do, but sometimes I like to break out.” She prided herself on the fact that she wasn’t anorexic thin like some of the other models. “Still, in the last two days I’ve eaten enough junk food to last me six months.”

His gaze swept over her. “You’ve got the perfect figure.”

She wondered why she didn’t care about any other man’s compliment, but Jarrod’s stirred awareness inside her.

“Then maybe I should be the body of Blackstone’s,” she joked. “Perhaps I’ll even get them to include that in my next contract.”

A curious look came into his eyes. “So they’re offering you another contract, then?” he asked in a measured tone.

“I expect so.” Her forehead creased. “You sound surprised. Why?”

There was a short pause. “I thought with all the controversy lately, the Blackstones might—”

“Drop me like a hot potato?” she cut across him, stiffening.

He inclined his head. “Something like that.”

She suppressed a shiver, refusing to think right now about not being offered a new contract. So far no one had held Marise’s antics against her. “You may not have noticed, but I was at Kim Blackstone’s wedding. I’d like to think that was a good sign.”

“Oh, I noticed,” he drawled, a sexy timbre to his voice. “And yes, definitely a good sign.”

Still, she needed to reiterate something. “Jarrod, as much as you don’t like the Blackstones, they are

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