How far would you go to save your family business?

Jewelry designer and heiress Ruby Seaborn will do anything to save her family’s company from financial ruin. And she means anything.

Including proposing a strictly business marriage to diamond-mine magnate Jax Maroney—the only man able to restore the Seaborn jewelry empire to its former glory!

She needs his money; he needs her socialite credentials—it’s a win-win solution. And if they indulge in certain...fringe benefits of their marriage along the way, that’s fine. Because luckily Ruby’s heart is as unbreakable as the precious gems she works with...isn’t it?

“Okay, you want them to accept your business, and I want my family business to survive intact. Maybe we should brainstorm a solution to our problems?”

Jax’s frown deepened. “Why? As you pointed out, we barely know each other. Why the hell would I discuss my private business with you?”

Ruby stared at him, something tugging at the edge of her consciousness.

He’d used the word proposal again... What if they could nut out a proposal to benefit them both?

The idea shimmered and coalesced, detonating like an ill-timed bomb and she gasped.

“What’s wrong?”

She glanced at his left hand.

“Are you married?”

“No.”

“Involved with anyone?”

His frown eased, that sexy grin back. “If this is your way of asking me out—”

“I’m not asking you out.”

She placed her palms against his chest, slid them across to his lapels and tugged him closer.

“I’m asking you to marry me.”

NICOLA MARSH has always had a passion for writing and reading. As a youngster she devoured books when she should have been sleeping, and later kept a diary whose content could be an epic in itself! These days, when she’s not enjoying life with her husband and son in her home city of Melbourne, she’s at her computer creating the romances she loves in her dream job. Visit Nicola’s website, www.nicolamarsh.com, for the latest news of her books.

Marrying the Enemy

Nicola Marsh

www.millsandboon.co.uk

For my editor, Flo. Thanks for helping me polish this into a gem of a story.

(And for loving a good pun as much as I do!)

Contents

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

EXCERPT

CHAPTER ONE

JAX MARONEY had traded clear outback skies for this.

The exclusive enclave of Armidale, home of Australia’s premier jewellers hosting Melbourne’s A-listers tonight, and he’d crashed the party.

Damn usurpers. They were more than rivals, they were the enemy. The enemy who’d deliberately ignored him tonight; who’d whispered and pointed and glared. The enemy he’d have to court to achieve his goal.

That irked. He didn’t give a damn what they thought of him personally but the fact he needed these people onside in the business arena...

Regret pinched his gut, tempered by an ever-present slow-burning anger against the one person who’d landed him in this predicament.

‘Careful. Next time the door opens and the wind blows in, your frown will stick.’

Surprised anyone had approached him considering his determined distance from the rent-a-crowd at this shindig, he glared at the smart-mouthed blonde, dripping with enough diamonds to keep his Western Australian mine in business for the next decade.

‘What’s it to you?’

She was undeterred by his surliness, her ruby-slicked lips curving into a teasing smile. ‘The launch of a Seaborn spring collection deserves champagne and caviar and exuberance.’

She pointed at his forehead. ‘That frown you’ve got going on? Doesn’t fit.’

‘Because most of the snobs here can’t move their Botox-ed brows anyway?’

His derisive stare swept the designer-clad, immaculately coiffed, moneyed crowd who shunned him for the sins of his father.

To his surprise, her smile widened. ‘You’re probably right but you should play nice.’

‘Why?’

‘Because the undercover security doesn’t take kindly to brusque, boorish types just standing back and surveying. They’ll think you’re a thief.’

Her brash glance swept him from head to foot and his gut inexplicably tightened.

When her defiant gaze met his, he swore he glimpsed heat. ‘On second thoughts, maybe not.’

Against his better judgement, he felt compelled to match wits with the intriguing blonde. He wasn’t used to people challenging him. In business or otherwise.

He liked his women transparent and uncomplicated. The bold blonde? Anything but.

He waved her away. ‘Shouldn’t you be mingling?’

‘Shouldn’t you be smiling?’

His mouth twitched and she raised a fist in victory. ‘There. Knew you could do it. Not so hard once you try.’

Nonplussed, he shook his head. ‘Who are you?’

She screwed up her nose and poked out her tongue in a mock scary expression.

‘Your worst nightmare, Happy Face.’

The laughter spilled from his lips, alien and odd sounding. When was the last time he’d laughed?

‘A mouth like that can get you into trouble.’ His gaze focused on her lips, the glossy sheen highlighting their fullness, their sensuality, and that surprising twinge in his gut moved lower.

She cocked a pretend gun with her thumb and forefinger and pulled the trigger. ‘I’m all for trouble.’

Impressed by her audacity, he decided to call her bluff.

‘Big statement, but can you deliver?’

With a nonchalant shrug, she turned away, leaving him with a tantalising view of bare skin to her waist where the emerald satin of her designer dress tied in an incongruous bow.

She took two steps, paused and glanced over her shoulder.

‘If you stick around after the launch, you might find out, if you’re lucky.’

She sashayed away, working her hips for his benefit, the satin clinging to a fine ass.

He’d given himself thirty minutes to show Melbourne’s high society he was back and there wasn’t one damn thing they could do about it.

Until the daring blonde had crashed his resentment party for one and dangled that tempting offer.

He didn’t want to be here any longer than he had to but sticking around now held a certain appeal.

* * *

Ruby grabbed a glass of champagne from a passing waiter, needing to hold something before she gave in to the urge to rip off the rare green diamond plaque de cou necklace and have a good scratch.

How her sister Sapphie did this on a regular basis, she had no idea.

The diamonds weighed a ton around her neck and she was sure her ear lobes had lengthened by an inch with the matching earrings dangling in a waterfall of sparkle.

While the crowd oohed and aahed, admiring the pieces she’d created especially for this collection, she had to curl her fingers into her palms to stop herself from scratching.

Her oversensitive skin beneath the jewels prickled. Wouldn’t the press have a field day with that: Ruby Seaborn, lapidary and creative genius behind the Seaborn’s latest spring collection, allergic to her own inventive masterpieces?

It had to be her subconscious telling her she belonged behind the scenes rather than a genuine physiological reaction. She only used the finest metals and gems. Gems that were harder to come by these days thanks to Maroney Mine, the corporate mining giant devouring everything and everyone in its path.

If she ever got her hands on Jax Maroney, the CEO, she’d throttle him.

Speaking of getting her hands on a guy... She darted a glance over her shoulder at the truculent Adonis propped against the far wall, deliberately detached from the milling crowd.

He might be wearing a charcoal pinstriped suit, baby-blue business shirt and indigo tie, but that was where his respectability ended.

With unreadable ebony eyes, an inscrutable expression and that imperceptible curl of disgust to a very sexy top lip, the guy had bad boy written all over him.

Along with the folded arms and ominous glare, he’d been rudely brusque when she’d approached. He didn’t want to be here. Which begged the question why he’d turned up. And who was he?

The Seaborns had built their reputation on exclusivity. Every person here tonight had lineage and class and money. Money to burn.

Money her family’s jewellery business needed desperately if they were to survive.

She stared a fraction too long, her gaze locking with his, and as he slowly raised a mocking eyebrow a shiver skittered over her skin, making it prickle from more than the necklace.

Unaware she’d been holding her breath, she exhaled and saluted before turning away. She slipped a finger beneath the front-fastening choker-style necklace that seemed to have a stranglehold.

It didn’t help, his potent stare eliciting a heat that coursed through her body like a power surge.

He exuded something raw, something primitive, and she unwittingly responded on a visceral level, the tug of excitement deep inside unexpected and unwelcome.

She’d usually toy with a guy like him, have her fun then move on. He so wasn’t her type.

But with Sapphie convalescing on enforced leave, she’d assumed more duties than she could handle. Creating the pieces she loved had been surpassed by spokeswoman and modelling tonight, with more to come. Much more.

Even now, several months since her sis had almost collapsed and she’d learned the truth, she wished the last year had been different.

She wished Mum and Sapphie had trusted her.

Dealing with grief over losing their mum had been tough and she’d admired Sapphire assuming CEO duties of Seaborn’s as well as being the face of the company. After all, it was what Saph had been groomed to do since she could walk.

She’d never envied her sister the responsibility, preferring to indulge her creative side, happy to be the scatty, carefree Seaborn.

Thanks to Sapphie’s bombshell before she had an enforced recuperation, Ruby now had more responsibility than she could possibly want or imagine.

And it made her mad as hell it’d taken her sister’s near breakdown for her to discover the truth.

Throw in Seaborn’s ever-decreasing profit margins as chain stores flourished under a worsening economy, and Maroney Mine doing its best to drive them out of business, and the last few months had sucked.

But she had twelve weeks while Sapphie recuperated to turn Seaborn’s around, twelve weeks to prove to her sister and the rest of the corporate world she wasn’t the flighty airhead they thought, and kick some business butt.

As Ruby moved through the crowd, accepting air-kisses and congratulations for her latest creations, her gaze drifted towards the surly stranger too many times for her liking.

Worse, whenever it did, he was staring straight at her.

Determined to shake the feeling they were inexplicably linked by a force of attraction bigger than the both of them, she flitted from one group to another, laughing at nothing, smiling at anything.

All too soon the event ended and she sagged on a stool in relief. Until her cousin Opal tapped her on the shoulder and shoved a manifesto under her nose.

‘How many pieces did we sell?’

Her heart sank as Opal frowned and shook her head. ‘Not enough.’

‘Damn.’ She snatched the listing and scanned it, the lack of gold foil sale stickers making her stomach gripe with angst.

Seaborn’s was seriously floundering and nothing, even their biggest launch and her best pieces yet, could save it.

Opal squeezed her arm. ‘It’ll be okay.’

Unexpected tears stung her eyes and she blinked them away, not trusting herself to speak until she did. ‘It’ll have to be.’

For Sapphie’s sake, for her sake, for the sake of a family business she had no intention of losing.

Unbeknown to her until recently, Sapphie had made a promise to their mum on her death bed last year when Mathilda Seaborn, the matriarch of Seaborn’s for the last fifteen years, had been pumped full of morphine but completely lucid.

The pancreatic cancer might have ravaged her body but it hadn’t touched her astute business brain; her mum had made Sapphire promise to do whatever it took to make her legacy survive. For them. For their children.

Considering Ruby couldn’t sustain a long-term relationship any longer than Sapphie, nor did she want to, kids were a long way off.

Irrelevant now, with her sister under strict doctor’s orders after collapsing from stress and exhaustion because she’d shouldered a burden they both should’ve shared.

It had been a double shock, learning of Seaborn’s grim financials, and the fact she’d been inadvertently responsible for Sapphie’s collapse.

And she had been, no matter which way she looked at it. She’d always been the indulged Seaborn, the one allowed to follow her dreams and travel and kick back with Sapphie happily shadowing Mum, learning everything she could.

While Sapphie had studied hard to obtain straight As, she’d coasted, lucky to pull her usual Cs up to an occasional B.

While Sapphie had done a master’s in Economics as a foregone conclusion, she’d breezed through an Arts major, not really caring whether she finished or not because she’d already started creating signature pieces for Seaborn’s.

While Sapphie had no social life due to Seaborn’s commitments, she’d danced and partied her way around Melbourne with a hip crowd as laid-back as her.

Little wonder Mum hadn’t trusted her with Seaborn’s viability.

Time to prove her mum and Sapphie wrong.

She might’ve been too self-absorbed in her carefree, creative life before. Now she had a chance to set things right by taking Seaborn’s out of the red and firmly into the black.

Opal nudged her. ‘By the way, we’ve got a hanger-on.’

Ruby glanced over her shoulder in time to see Security hassling Happy Face. The fact he’d waited around made her pulse skitter and she clamped down the urge to grin in triumph despite the dastardly news Opal had just delivered.

Men were so predictable. A little light-hearted flirtation and they thought you’d handed them your heart on a plate.

‘I’ll take care of this.’

Opal frowned as Happy Face glowered at their security guard, towering over him by a foot. ‘Sure?’

‘Yeah, the bigger they are, the harder they fall.’ Opal’s frown eased at her cliché as she hugged her. ‘Thanks for your help, hun, couldn’t have done it tonight without you.’

‘I’ll have to add hostess with the mostest to my geologist credentials.’

Ruby bumped her with her hip. ‘You bet. Now off you go, head home and I’ll take care of our recalcitrant guest.’

Casting one last doubtful glance in Happy Face’s direction, Opal headed out the back.

Ruby squared her shoulders to do battle. The necklace still made her neck itch, her feet ached from wearing stilettos rather than the ballet flats she preferred and the satin sliding over her hips set off some strange static reaction that zapped her at inopportune moments.

Like now, as she strode towards Happy Face, intent on kicking some surly butt.

‘What seems to be the problem here, Fritz?’

Their long-term security guard’s stern expression softened as he turned towards her. They’d always had a bond since he’d slipped her gum drops, her favourite treat all through childhood, when her mum wasn’t looking.

She’d loved coming here as a kid, had loved the glitter and the sparkle and the hush. No way would she lose it.

Fritz gestured towards Happy Face, who glared at her as if his impending eviction were all her fault. ‘This gentleman won’t leave.’

Fritz’s audibly icy gentleman indicated he thought the guy anything but.

Considering her feet ached, her skin still prickled beneath the necklace and she couldn’t wait to slip out of the clingy satin, it was time to revoke her earlier invitation. She didn’t have time to waste flirting with some guy she’d never see again. She had more important things to do, such as come up with another scheme to raise much-needed funds to keep Seaborn’s afloat.

Ready to give the stranger his marching orders, she made the mistake of locking gazes with him again.

Daring sparked sable flecks, taunting her to see if she’d carry through with her earlier challenge.

Damn him. How could he know she’d never backed down from a challenge?

Youngest to brave the Mad Mouse roller coaster at Luna Park, youngest to surf Bells Beach in her family, youngest creator Seaborn’s had ever had.

She rose to any challenge and she wasn’t going to let this mysterious man get one up on her.

‘It’s fine, Fritz, I invited him to stay for a coffee.’

Fritz’s bushy brows joined in the middle but he didn’t dare question her judgement. He’d never do that, his loyalty to Seaborn’s unwavering.

‘Do you want me to lock up?’

She nodded. ‘Please. I’ll take our guest upstairs so close up the showroom and head home.’

If Fritz thought it unusual she was taking a stranger to her apartment, he didn’t show it, his expression carefully blank. ‘’Night, Miss Ruby.’

‘Thanks, Fritz.’

She waited until Fritz had walked far enough away not to overhear before she swivelled back.

Her plan to renege on her offer of a coffee fizzled when the guy’s lips curved into a devastating smile that snatched her breath. She’d suffered the same oxygen deprivation when she’d glimpsed a pink diamond for the first time and she surreptitiously rubbed under her ribs and over her diaphragm, willing the air to fill her lungs so she wouldn’t feel so wonky.

‘Coffee sounds good.’

How could one smile make her feel so uncertain, so hesitant, so thrilled?

She hated feeling this off balance. Which was why she liked her men arty and laid-back, not glowering and dangerous.

‘Actually, it’s been a long night—’

‘Running scared?’ He ducked his head to murmur in the vicinity of her ear and she could’ve sworn she swayed.

If his warm breath fanning her cheek weren’t bad enough, his citrus scent would’ve completed the job of knocking her off kilter.

He smelled delicious, crisp and sexy and devourable.

Folding her arms to hide the telltale signs of her body’s reaction to him, she rolled her eyes.

‘Fine, one coffee then you’re out of here.’

He touched her arm, the barest graze sending a sizzle of heat shooting through her like a jolt of electricity. ‘Not so brave now, huh?’

Bravery had nothing to do with it. Self-preservation did. This instantaneous spark between them was too powerful, too potent, too potentially troublesome.

She didn’t need complications in her life, not now when saving Seaborn’s was her priority.

And a delicious-smelling, beyond-gorgeous, bad boy was one giant complication waiting to happen.

‘I flirt with everyone—you shouldn’t take it personally.’

‘Is that right?’ He took a step forward, bringing him tantalisingly close.

He didn’t touch her. He didn’t need to, her pebbling skin a dead giveaway of how his proximity affected her. ‘Better learn to control that habit because some guys may get the wrong idea.’

She shouldn’t bait him, she really shouldn’t but she couldn’t resist. There was something about him, something untouchable, that made her want to ruffle his assured poise. ‘What idea’s that?’

‘That you’re offering more than you’re willing to give.’

His innuendo rippled over her like submerging in the warmest, most decadent bubble bath and she clamped down on the urge to see exactly how willing she could be.

She tilted her head up. ‘I’m offering coffee. Take it or leave it.’

He hesitated and disappointment doused her ever-growing attraction to a guy she barely knew. There went the little fantasy of fending off his lusty advances.

He searched her face, looking for something, and it made her uncomfortable to the point of squirming.

On the verge of retracting her offer, he slowly lifted his arm and gestured towards the back of the showroom.

‘Lead the way.’

CHAPTER TWO

JAX had lucked out.

His reasons for attending tonight had been twofold: show the Melbourne snobs he’d returned, ready to infiltrate their closed ranks, and plant the takeover seed in Sapphire Seaborn’s mind.

Sadly, the Seaborn spokeswoman hadn’t been in attendance but he had the next best thing: her sister.

Glancing at Ruby, matching him stride for stride as they headed towards the rear of the showroom, he amended his earlier assessment.

Maybe he hadn’t lucked out after all.

The younger Seaborn was a firecracker. All mouth and defiance.

Not his type at all but for a few decadent hours he’d like her to be.

He didn’t intend on getting physical, not with so much at stake. He had big plans for a proposed takeover but for a moment, with the down-lights making her hair shimmer like spun gold and her breasts straining against satin with every step she took, he wished he didn’t have so much to lose.

‘You’ve never been to Seaborn’s before.’

It was a statement, not a question and he admired her bluntness.

‘No. Why? Because you would’ve remembered me?’

Her lips quirked at his teasing. ‘I remember all our customers.’

‘All?’

‘Each and every one.’

‘I find that hard to believe.’

She chuckled and held up her hands in surrender. ‘Okay, I lied. I remember each and every piece I’ve ever created and, in turn, the people who acquire them.’

‘Impressive.’

As impressive as the showroom she led him through. The long, cavernous room gleamed, from its honey polished boards to soft ivory walls to spot lights strategically placed to highlight the merchandise.

From what he could see of the one-of-a-kind pieces in gems of all shapes and sizes behind alarmed glass cases, the merchandise took centre stage.

While he’d worked in the mining side of the gem trade for a few years now, he’d never been interested in the gems themselves. The bottom dollar floated his boat. The end-product sparkly stuff? Not so much.

‘What do you think of my work?’

She’d caught him checking out the jewellery. Observant and astute, as well as refreshingly blunt and gorgeous.

‘Not bad if you like that sort of thing.’

She stopped and pretended to clutch her heart. ‘Not bad?’

She jabbed a finger in his direction and he resisted the urge to grab her hand, lift it to his mouth and kiss each and every one of her knuckles.

Before belatedly realising what the hell was he thinking?

‘Do you know how long it takes to create each of these pieces?’

‘No, but I’m sure you’ll enlighten me.’ His laconic grin earned him another you philistine glare.

She pointed to the nearest display, a simple gold necklace elevated to sublime by the exquisitely cut emeralds shimmering against the black velvet backdrop.

‘See that? I’m a lapidary as well as a designer, so it took me a month to cut and polish the emeralds, another two to get the bail and bar and ring clasp right.’

Clueless, he raised an eyebrow and she elaborated. ‘The bail is that triangular bit that attaches the pendant to the necklace. The bar and ring, or toggle clasp, is the fastener where the bar is inserted into the ring to attach the two ends of the necklace.’

‘Sounds fascinating.’

Her dubious glare insinuated he was mocking her. He wasn’t. Hearing her speak so passionately only piqued his interest more.

And made him wonder how passionate she’d be in other areas.

She crooked her finger and he gladly pressed his nose to the glass to be closer to her. ‘See the intricate bezel setting around each emerald? My signature.’

‘Beautiful.’

He wasn’t looking at the necklace and they both knew it by the delicate pink staining her cheeks before she straightened and edged away.

Before he could second-guess his actions, something he never did in the business arena, he snagged her arm. ‘Didn’t think you’d be the shy, retiring type, so why can’t you take a compliment?’

Something furtive bordering on hurt flickered in her eyes before she deliberately blinked. When she opened them, their unusual green sparked better than the emeralds locked behind the case.

‘Honestly? It’s been a long evening—’ he only just caught her a long year ‘—and I’m dead on my feet.’

Sympathy jagged his conscience. The polite thing to do would be to leave. Retreat and come back another time when Sapphire Seaborn was here and he could launch his subtle attack.

But he hadn’t come this far without being ruthless and no way would he back down now. He needed to deliver a message and the beautiful blonde could relay it to her sister much better than he could.

‘You want me to leave?’

An empty question observing niceties when he had no intention of playing nice.

She fiddled with the diamond tennis bracelet on her wrist, twisting it round and round. ‘Yes and no.’

Confused, he folded his arms and waited. ‘Enlighten me.’

With a drawn-out sigh, she eyeballed him. ‘Yeah, I’d love you to leave so I can head up to my apartment, get out of this fancy outfit and kick back with my fluffy slippers, a tub of caramelised popcorn and Jake Gyllenhaal.’

A chick-flick fan, he should’ve known. Was there no woman on the planet who didn’t go for slick movie stars?

Her fingers flitted from the bracelet to sliding a dress ring around her third finger. ‘No, because you’re a mystery, and I want to know what you were really doing here tonight apart from skulking in corners ignoring my exquisite creations.’

Yeah, she was a firecracker all right, and a lick of excitement jabbed his jaded soul.

‘No mystery. Jax Maroney.’

He held out his hand but his attempt at a handshake fell flat when he had to grab her to prevent her collapsing at his feet.

She swayed, her skin pale, her eyes wide and startled as she stared at him as if he’d popped up from Hades to steal her soul.

‘You’re Jax Maroney?’ Her incredulity implied she’d find believing he was Elvis in disguise easier.

‘Last time I checked.’

Her pallor vanished as colour surged to her cheeks and her neck muscles snapped rigid.

‘Get out.’

He’d heard that phrase used a fair bit as a kid, when he’d hung out with mates who’d idolised their dads.

‘Get out, kids, the pub’s no place for you. This is men’s business.’

The thing was, whenever he’d followed his dad, Denver didn’t mind. He’d been proud of his son, would clap him on the back and ruffle his hair and cuff him playfully.

Most of his mates had envied him, having a dad so cool. And he’d idolised Denver, loved everything about him from his raucous belly laughs to his booming voice, his unerring ability to command a room just by being in it to his generosity with money.

He’d only learned later it was easy to be generous with money that wasn’t yours.

And their close father-son bond only made what his dad had done all the harder to accept.

He released her, annoyed she hadn’t lost the horrified look.

‘That’s not very charitable. How did we go from coffee to get out?’

She gnawed on a gloriously full bottom lip, eyeing him as if she half expected he’d ransack the entire showroom contents and abscond.

‘On second thoughts, you’re coming with me.’ She grabbed his arm and dragged him towards a black filigree wrought-iron door with a winding staircase behind it. ‘You need your butt kicked and I’m just the woman to do it.’

For someone who hadn’t had much to smile about lately, he found himself unable to stop the slow grin stretching his disused facial muscles.

He’d like to see her try.

* * *

Ruby was a spontaneous, roll-with-the-punches kinda gal but dragging Jax Maroney up the stairs and into her apartment for interrogation threw her.

From all accounts the guy had fled Melbourne years ago, eager to escape the fallout from his father’s incarceration.

While there’d been no hint of criminal behaviour tainting Jax, how much had he seen and done?

Rumours had been rife during the trial. Had Jax known about the embezzlement? Had he laundered money like his dad had? Had he stashed away a small fortune untouchable by the law? Had he helped his mum disappear?

She hadn’t followed the news but her mum had been outraged by the thought of a renowned criminal like Denver Maroney having access to high-society money, friends’ money, and swindling the lot.

As for Jackie, Jax’s mum, Mathilda Seaborn had raised her nose in the air and forbidden either of her daughters to speak of her again. Being duped by a criminal was one thing. Being betrayed by one of their own another.

How Jax had ended up CEO of a profitable mining company in Western Australia, a mining company driving her family business into the ground, was what she had every intention of finding out.

Learning his identity, she now understood the hint of danger emanating from him—and understood her unlikely attraction.

She’d always had a thing for bad boys.

She unlocked the door to her apartment and flung it open, giving him a none too gentle shove inside before slamming it and whirling to face him.

Stepping into her sanctuary comforted her: the funky Indian floor cushions in turquoise and tangerine, the fresh fuchsia gerberas stuck in mismatched coloured bottles serving as vases, the aromatherapy candles littering every available surface.

Not tonight. Tonight, she had every intention of screwing over Jax Maroney the same way he’d been doing to her family business.

‘If that’s how you treat all your guests I’ll pass on the coffee—’

‘Zip it.’ She pointed at the lowest chair, wanting him at a height disadvantage. ‘Take a seat. I’ll be back.’

He shrugged and surprisingly did as instructed, folding his six-three frame into the soft chintz. ‘Just for the record, I don’t take kindly to orders.’

His gaze started at her feet and swept upwards, deliberately lingering in places it shouldn’t. ‘But considering you’re about to slip into something more comfortable, it may be worth my while staying around.’

‘You’re obnoxious,’ she said, the sting taken out of her words by an irrepressibly smug grin at his backhanded compliment.

‘And you’re spectacular.’

Wow.

That zing of attraction between them? Zapped her in a big way.

Annoyed by her body’s betrayal when she had a business score to settle, she flounced out of the room. Not that she’d ever flounced in her life but going up against Jax Maroney brought out the worst in her.

She wanted to rattle him as much as he rattled her but something behind those coal-black eyes, an inner resistance combined with formidable will, told her she wished for the impossible.

Propping open her bedroom door with a shoe, she kept an eye on him through the slit while grabbing the nearest change of clothes she could find.

‘Don’t make yourself comfortable—you won’t be staying long,’ she said, slithering out of the emerald satin, kicking off her stilettos and gratefully slipping into a zigzag-patterned strapless jumpsuit.

‘And here I was, thinking the renowned Seaborns would be hospitable and gracious.’

As she tugged the ruched elastic bodice of the jumpsuit up, her blood chilled. He knew about her family.

The question was, how much?

Did he know her dad had died when she’d been in her early teens? That her mum had carried on the family business ever since, building it into Australia’s premier jewellers? That Sapphie had juggled modelling and spokeswoman duties while studying for a business degree and master’s part-time? That she’d loved being the younger sister with less responsibility and more recreation time?

The familiar guilt at her extensive social life while her sister had borne the burden of making Seaborn’s flourish niggled at her once again.

She’d been irresponsible and carefree while Sapphie took on too much and ended up sick.

No more.

She snatched out the clip holding her loose chignon in place and ran her fingers through her hair. She liked loose and muss. She didn’t like uptight and controlled. Like her unwelcome guest.

When she stepped out of her bedroom, her wary gaze collided with his, the instant ping of attraction zapping her synapses, making a mockery of her self-professed dislike.

‘Zebra stripes? Interesting outfit.’ Amusement quirked the corners of his mouth and she resisted the urge to tug at the bodice again. ‘Rather fitting, what with zebras being an endangered species and all.’

Like Seaborn’s hung unsaid between them and she glared at him.

‘You’re not here for a fashion critique.’ She marched across the room and sat opposite him, tucking her bare feet beneath her. ‘And you’re skipping the coffee.’

His deliberately blasé expression didn’t flicker but she noted coiled tension in his fingers digging into the chintz.

‘Then why am I here?’ He instilled enough innuendo into his silky tone to make her pulse leap.

‘That’s easy.’ She snapped her fingers. ‘So I can tell you exactly what I think of your business practices and to ensure you stay the hell away from Seaborn’s.’

Jax settled into the prissy chair, draping an arm across the back and extending his legs, crossed at the ankles.

If his silence didn’t provoke Ruby, his deliberately relaxed posture would, and he scored a direct hit as her eyes narrowed, sparking green fire.

He’d learned from managing a variety of workers in the outback that it was easier to let angry people rave, purging it from their system, rather than interrupt or stem the flow and exacerbate the situation.

Besides, he was curious. How had she learned of his proposed takeover of Seaborn’s? Better still, what did a capricious, eccentric blonde think she could do about it?

His research had been thorough. Seaborn’s was heavily in the red and no amount of flashy collection launches or handcrafted necklaces could save it.

‘Aren’t you going to say something? Defend yourself?’

‘Why, when you’re saying enough for the both of us?’ He flashed a self-righteous smile designed to infuriate her.

By the frown slashing her brow, it worked. ‘Your mine is undercutting ours,’ she accused. ‘Selling gems at bargain-basement prices and we can’t compete. We’re a small mine supplying a family business, your mine is supplying the mega jewellery chains selling lesser-quality pieces. Cheaper prices attract more customers despite the quality.’

The corners of her mouth drooped. ‘You’re killing us.’

He didn’t blink at her sob story. He’d given up on emotional appeals a long time ago.

Deliberately taunting her, he rubbed his thumb and forefinger together.

Her lips compressed in a thin, unimpressed line. ‘That better not be what I think it is.’

‘What do you think it is?’

‘The world’s smallest violin.’

He couldn’t help but chuckle at her mutinous expression. ‘Smart and spectacular.’

She swore at him and he just laughed harder.

‘Don’t take this personally, but I came here tonight to see your sister to discuss a business proposition.’

She shook her head, blonde waves tumbling over her shoulders in a tempting gold swath. ‘She’s not interested.’

‘She hasn’t heard what I have to say.’

She squared her shoulders. ‘I’m in charge for the next few months so whatever you have to say, you’ll have to say it to me.’

‘You?’

She bristled at his derisive tone and he couldn’t blame her. But did she honestly think he’d do business with a bohemian waif, albeit a creative genius by what he’d glimpsed tonight, when he knew for a fact Sapphire was the brains behind this outfit?

‘Sapphie is taking three months off, doctor’s orders, so I’m filling in.’

Three months? He didn’t have ninety days to seal this deal. He had a few weeks max before Seaborn’s financials plummeted further and it wasn’t worth his company’s investment to acquire them.

The seriousness of the situation suddenly hit him. He couldn’t lose out on this opportunity, not when acquiring the Seaborn mine would establish Maroney Mine’s complete domination along the entire western seaboard.

And guarantee a strong foothold into the east—and the rest.

He’d returned to Melbourne for one reason only. To take Maroney Mine all the way to the top. Global. Nothing and no one would stand in his way.

He needed that mine. Needed it for vindication, needed it for safety, needed it to prove he was nothing whatsoever like his father.

He steepled his fingers and rested them on his chest. ‘In that case, boss lady, name your price.’

Surprise widened her eyes. ‘For?’

‘Seaborn Mine.’

She laughed, a brittle sound devoid of amusement. ‘Dream on.’

He sat forward and braced his elbows on his knees. ‘On the contrary, you’re the one who’s dreaming if you think for one second you have what it takes to achieve what your sister couldn’t.’

Her hands clenched into fists. ‘What’s that?’

‘Make Seaborn’s a success.’

He only just managed to duck an incoming book.

* * *

Ruby didn’t have a violent bone in her body.

Well, maybe one, considering she’d grabbed the nearest thing handy, a brilliant dystopian thriller, and flung it at Jax Maroney’s insufferably big head.

Pity she’d never been good at sports and her aim missed.

‘That’s quite a temper you’ve got.’ He picked up the book and scanned the back blurb with slow deliberation, giving her time to compose herself.

It didn’t work. Fury flushed her cheeks and she pressed her palms against them in an attempt to cool herself down, dragging in calming breaths until she trusted herself to speak.

‘And that’s quite an imagination you have.’ She lowered her hands, clasped them tightly in her lap, and shook her head. ‘Buying out Seaborn’s? You’ve got to be kidding.’

He stood so fast her head snapped back. ‘I don’t joke. Or have time for games.’

He stepped around the scarred antique coffee table she’d picked up at a Brunswick Street second-hand dealer and towered over her.

As if she’d stand for cheap intimidation tricks.

She leapt to her feet and stood toe to toe. Pity his six-three trumped her five-eight as she momentarily wished she’d kept her heels on.

‘If you’re as smart as your sister, you’ll understand Seaborn’s has a month or two tops to survive before you go under.’

His mouth curved into an infuriatingly sardonic grin, like a croc toying with a wingless chicken on the banks of a river. ‘I’m giving you a profitable way out. You get to keep making your precious jewellery, and all that changes is that I own you.’

Her palm itched to wipe his smirk as he amended, ‘Well, I own your mine.’

The pit of her stomach griped at her family business’s perilous position, but she’d be damned if she let him know how tempting his offer sounded.

‘I have one answer for you.’

The triumphant glint in his eyes made her response all the sweeter.

‘When hell freezes over.’

CHAPTER THREE

IT TOOK a good ten minutes of pacing the showroom after Jax left for Ruby’s blood pressure to lower.

She’d never been prone to rage or theatrics but in the last half-hour she’d almost succumbed to both.

Who the hell did Jax Maroney think he was?

She’d been so irate over his offer she’d forgotten to ask how he’d got onto the exclusive invite-only guest list. Probably greased someone’s palm, like his dear old dad.

Unfair? Maybe, but she wasn’t in a forgiving mood. Livid, she snatched the evening’s inventory list from behind the chrome counter and scanned it again, hoping a few more gold foil sale stickers would’ve miraculously appeared since she’d checked it with Opal.

Nope, still the same glaring truth: they’d barely made enough tonight to cover their gem costs.

Her fingers convulsed, crumpling the paper, and she threw it back on the counter.

Tears of helplessness burned as she stared at the inventory list, taking time to smooth it flat so Opal wouldn’t guess how bad things really were.

Her cousin had stepped in to help when Sapphie had been ordered by the medicos to have time off, leaving behind her precious mine to become general dogsbody around here.

She couldn’t have kept the place going without Opal’s help and had planned on giving her a generous gift—a matching opal ring and bracelet—when her stint finished.

The way things were going, she wouldn’t be able to afford even the setting, let alone the rare black opals she had in mind.

Her gut twisted as she slid open the top drawer behind the counter and extracted an envelope. She weighed it in her hand, tapping it against her palm, as reluctant to open it now as she had been earlier this afternoon when it had been delivered.

She didn’t want to spoil the launch; that had been her excuse then. So what was her excuse now?

Out of options, she slid her finger beneath the flap and ripped, wishing she could tear up the contents before she read it. But disposing of it wouldn’t change facts: Seaborn’s was mortgaged up to the hilt and needed a cash injection fast.

The bank’s letterhead taunted her as she glanced at the document, the exorbitant figures swimming before her eyes.

She didn’t blame Sapphie for mortgaging the title on the showroom and her apartment to pay for their mum’s exorbitant medical bills. She would’ve done the same if she’d known the truth, anything to buy them time and a chance at saving the business.

Now, with creditors baying for repayments, they were in danger of losing the one thing Sapphie had promised their mother they would save.

She couldn’t let it happen. She wouldn’t.

There had to be something she could do.

With a heavy heart, she trudged into her workroom tucked away in the far right corner. She couldn’t create, not in this bleak mood, but she had sorting to do.

Best she keep busy. She wouldn’t sleep tonight anyway.

* * *

Jax opened the door to his apartment, shoved his iPod into the docking station and hit play.

He reeled back from a blast of bass. Good. He needed loud. Louder the better to drown out his thoughts.

The noise filled the apartment as he walked along a marble-tiled hallway, the decibels hitting eardrum-shattering levels in the open lounge.

The beat pounded through him. Hard. Harsh.

Yeah, he needed this, needed to obliterate the tension of the last few hours.

He flung his suit jacket onto the couch, stalked across to the bar, poured himself a double-shot whiskey and sculled it.

The deafening riffs spilling from a state-of-the-art surround-sound system matched his mood. Raucous. Discordant. Abrasive.

He slammed the glass down, the blaring noise a perfect match for his inner darkness.

He would’ve rather flung the glass at the nearest wall and watched it shatter with a ‘screw you, you stuck-up snobs’.

Being professionally snubbed by his fellow corporate mining giants tonight had seriously rankled.

Personally, he didn’t care what the high society his father had ripped off thought of him, but he needed them to expand his business and that meant attending functions like tonight.

A major pain in the ass.

He needed to re-enter their business circles, needed to convince them he was nothing like his morally corrupt father. Schmoozing the upper echelon of corporate Melbourne was a necessary evil for what he had planned with Maroney Mine expanding beyond the west coast.

But the way they’d looked at him earlier, as if he was the worse kind of scum... Damn it, how could he score business meetings with a hostile crowd who wouldn’t even acknowledge him?

He braced himself against the window sill, oblivious to the million-dollar view of Melbourne many storeys below, tension bunching his shoulders.

He deliberately played techno-punk-grunge when he was this wound up. No lyrics. All racket. Music far removed from his parents’ favourites, Bruce Springsteen and Bon Jovi.

Great, just what he didn’t need after the evening he’d had, thinking about his folks.

He’d been doing a lot of it lately with Denver’s appeal looming and the constant media harassment begging him for any snippets he could provide. While he’d told them to shove it—in more polite terms, of course—he half expected his mum to show up to vouch for the old crook.

He couldn’t fathom why a beautiful, wealthy woman like Jacqueline Blaise had stuck by his deceitful dad following his arrest when the ugly truth had finally spilled out.

Until her double betrayal. Then everything became frighteningly clear.

He’d been twenty-four when Denver had been jailed for embezzling millions, when he’d known deep in his heart that Jackie had also been an accessory despite the police never finding proof of her culpability.

She’d introduced Denver to her rich friends.

She’d cultivated a high-society clique that included Denver despite knowing the criminal background he’d come from. Apparently Denver’s own father had been murdered in a drug deal gone wrong, a petty criminal trying to rip off a dealer.

His folks never talked of it but Jax had looked it up on the Net when he was thirteen, after he’d overheard Gran berating Jackie for her shoddy taste in men. After reading the full story on his grandfather, Jax remembered feeling relieved that his dad was nothing like that.

What a joke.

His mum also hadn’t blinked twice about helping Denver rip off her moneyed friends, people her family had known for decades.

And with Denver incarcerated, she’d simply waltzed out of Jax’s life without a backward glance.

The mother he’d trusted, the mother he’d loved, gone, just like that.

Now, ten years later, Denver had drummed up another appeal and he wouldn’t be surprised if Jackie came back.

Not only had Jax’s love for his mother taken a serious hit, but he’d lost respect for her too. How could he not, when she buzzed around his charismatic father no matter what he did, yet didn’t give a stuff about her only child and had severed contact with him for a decade?

He’d dealt with her treachery years ago and had finally moved on, but it galled him that Denver had once again raised his ugly head at a time when Jax was finally on top.

Maroney Mine had flourished and he thanked a nebulous god every day his maternal grandmother had put the mine in his name the moment he hit twenty-five.

Wily Gran had hated her daughter’s penchant for ‘scrubbed-up bad boys’ and rather than leave Jackie everything in her will she’d distributed her assets.

He’d been striving to make a success of the mine ever since, no thanks to the adverse publicity from Denver’s trial and criminal ties, and his father’s constant quest to make headlines. Regular magazine interviews, rumours of ring-leading gambling syndicates within jail and a tell-all biography had ensured the Maroney name remained front and centre in the media—for all the wrong reasons.

Little wonder the journos were hounding him for a different angle on the sordid tale.

As he’d told them repeatedly, he had nothing to say on the subject of his father. Not one single word.

Jax’s hands clenched at the last memory he had of his dad before he’d been arrested. Denver had shouted him lunch at the swankiest hotel in Melbourne. They’d lingered over Tasmanian oysters and King Island filet mignon with the most expensive Cab Sav in the house accentuating the meal perfectly.

No one could tell a story like his dad and he’d laughed long and hard over Denver’s exaggerated tales, their closeness something he valued the older he got.

Not many guys he knew in their mid-twenties were still happy to hang out with their dads but Denver had always included him in everything.

Not quite.

Denver had been arrested the next day in a Victorian Police Force special operation targeting corporate crime.

And Jax had been shattered.

The father he’d idolised, the father he’d looked up to, the father he’d admired for working his way up from his blue collar roots—and his own deadbeat dad—to become a business dynamo, was a liar and a thief and not the man Jax thought he was.

He’d stood by Denver: through the trial, the adverse publicity, the sentencing.

Initially he’d done it out of loyalty but as the trial progressed and the extent of Denver’s treachery became apparent, he did it so he could imprint every last detail into his memory as a reminder to never be duped again.

By anyone.

Denver’s non-contact after his incarceration had been a bonus. He wouldn’t have responded if the old man had tried to contact him anyway.

The moment the door had slammed on Denver’s jail cell was the moment he’d slammed the door on his relationship with his father.

Every deceptive minute of it.

The music faded and he sank into the couch, a prickle of unease creeping across the back of his neck.

He might not care about the past any longer but he hated the insidious, floundering feeling that swamped him when he remembered how many lives his father’s lies and cunning and deceit had affected, how many families he’d ruined by wiping away their fortunes.

By the crowd’s response tonight, they wouldn’t let Jax forget his connection to a man who’d ripped off millions.

Screw them.

He had a job to do.

A corporation to take to the top.

Tonight had been the first step towards making that happen. Business as usual.

Now who was lying? He might have finagled an invitation to the Seaborn’s event tonight but once he’d arrived and locked wits with Ruby, business had been replaced by the prospect of pleasure.

Wicked, decadent, all-night-long pleasure.

He wanted her.

He pulsed with it.

And what Jax Maroney wanted he usually got.

Another thing he could thank dear old dad for. He’d learned from a young age that if he demanded, he’d receive. Denver had been a soft touch.

A dad to pick him up from school and take him to the footy and play cricket in the park. A dad to coach him from the sidelines and help with science projects and fix his bike. A dad to beat at wrestling and build a tree house and go camping with.

Denver had done it all, always making time for him. Not that he’d been totally spoiled, but both his parents had fondly indulged their only child.

Which made their emotional defection the harder to comprehend.

Denver had been an amazing dad. Kids had been jealous, and Jax had been proud. People flocked to Denver Maroney and he milked his popularity.

Before proceeding to milk people’s hard-earned money, thanks to Jackie’s contacts, culminating in his embezzling millions that landed him in jail.

Jax’s fingers curled into tight fists and he thumped the couch’s armrest.

Damn Denver. Damn him to hell.

With a stack of paperwork waiting and employee performance evaluations to do, the last thing he felt like doing was ruminating on the evening and how thanks to his father’s reputation he’d failed to make inroads in his takeover bid, but the woman at the centre of his plans had succeeded in piquing his interest.

He’d heard of Sapphire Seaborn by reputation, had expected to lock wills with a take-no-prisoners businesswoman.

What he hadn’t expected was to be enthralled and challenged by a smart-mouthed blonde with more bravado than he’d credited her with.

When she’d discovered his identity, and later heard his offer...man, she’d been magnificent, all riled and defiant.

He got hard just thinking about it.

Sadly, he wasn’t at liberty to follow the demands of his libido, not when Ruby Seaborn had what he desperately wanted.

These days, when he wanted something, he went out there and took care of it himself.

Acquiring the Seaborn mine would be no different.

CHAPTER FOUR

RUBY had spent three days with the Seaborn’s accountant poring over ledgers until her eyes stung.

Figures weren’t her strong suit yet she’d listened and learned. And hyperventilated.

No matter how hard they juggled and reassigned, they couldn’t create miracles. Unless Seaborn’s had a sudden influx of cash or cut costs in major areas of the business, they’d shortly be bankrupt.

She knuckled her eyes, hating the futility of tears. She’d never been the type to get emotional but dragging around this burden had her on the verge all the time.

Not a good look during a last-ditch stand.

Last thing she felt like doing with her Saturday was attend the races but a competitor had invited her to their launch and, not wanting to appear churlish, she’d agreed to go with head held high.

If Seaborn’s was on the way out, better to go out with a bang than a whimper.

She swanned through the marquee at Flemington Racecourse, air-kissing acquaintances, greeting industry peeps, fake-smiling and making idle chit-chat like a pro.

How Sapphie did this on a regular basis she’d never know. Little wonder she’d burned out. And this on top of her CEO duties. And the secret she’d lugged around for months—that no matter what she did the company they loved would end up bankrupt.

The thought of her broken sister and how little Sapphie had trusted her to help brought a lump to her throat and she grabbed a Chardonnay from a passing waiter and edged towards the balcony overlooking the lush green course, desperate for fresh air.

She dragged in great lungfuls, grateful when her lungs eased and she could breathe easier. Taking a sip of wine, she glanced back at the crowded room.

And saw the last man she wanted to see.

Jax Maroney. Black suit. Black heart. Black mood too, judging by the glower and permanently etched frown.

Detached from the mingling crowd, he was propped behind a display, watching, his frown not easing as that penetrating glare swept the room.

Interesting. The second function in a few days where he’d deliberately separated from the crowd. He didn’t appear awkward; then again he didn’t exactly fit into this esoteric crowd, six-three of brooding, beautiful male.

She edged behind a pillar and watched him. He didn’t move, didn’t smile, didn’t accept a drink or hors d’oeuvres. The only time he appeared animated was when the Meyers, an elderly rich couple who’d been friends of her mum, approached. He squared his shoulders, managed a sardonic smile and held out his hand. Only to have the couple ignore it, mutter a few words that wiped the smile off his face, and walk away as fast as their arthritic knees could carry them.

The guy wanted to ruin her family’s business and she should hate him, but when he resumed his air of detachment and blanked his expression as if nothing had happened, a small part of her felt sorry for him.

If memory served her correct, the Meyers’ son had lost around eight hundred thousand dollars thanks to Denver Maroney, so it didn’t surprise her they snubbed his son.

This crowd always protected their own and Jax’s dad had done the unthinkable: using longstanding friendships to swindle and deceive and destroy.

What intrigued her was why Jax Maroney was putting himself through this. The guy might appear unflappable and aloof, as if he didn’t give a flying frisbee what anyone thought of him, but being deliberately ostracised because of the sins of his father?

It had to make an impact on him. Unless the guy was made from stone. Considering his disdain as he glanced at his watch and scanned the crowd as if looking for someone, it was more than likely.

Her heart kicked and she gave it a little rub. As if he’d be looking for her. Considering how they’d parted the other night, the next time they communicated she expected to see an offer in writing from his lawyer.

Guys like him didn’t give up easily. Powerful, commanding, never taking no for an answer.

If Maroney Mine had the Seaborn mine in its sight, Lord help her.

She’d briefly considered it an option to save Seaborn’s before waking up and smelling the coal dust. Jax Maroney had made it clear the other night: he was interested in their mine, not in the oldest jewellery store in Melbourne.

He didn’t care that Seaborn’s had supplied tiaras to the Miss Australia pageant for the last two decades. He didn’t care they had personally written thank-yous from TV stars for their exquisite pieces. He didn’t care Aussie movie icons had worn their signature sets on the red carpet in Hollywood.

Jax Maroney cared about the bottom dollar—his—and to hell with everyone else.

She didn’t know whether the stress of the last few days had caught up with her or she just wanted to vent and he happened to be handy, but she downed her second Chardonnay and marched towards him.

He glanced up, the flicker of pleasure lighting his face quickly masked by a deliberate aloofness he probably practised in the mirror every morning.

‘Stalking your next victim?’

His eyes widened. ‘I beg your pardon?’

She waved at the crowd. ‘Most of Melbourne’s jewellers are here. Scoping out someone else to muscle in on and drive out of business?’

The corners of his mouth curved into an infuriating smirk. ‘I’m guessing you’re not here to agree to my proposal, then.’

‘You guessed right.’

Proposal...probably some fifty-page document designed to bamboozle.

She hated feeling this helpless. ‘Are you ochlophobic?’

He shook his head. ‘Why?’

‘You’re always hanging around the outskirts, avoiding crowds.’

‘More like people avoiding me,’ he muttered, bitterness tightening his mouth as his brooding stare swept the crowd.

Maybe her earlier assumption hadn’t been too far off the mark, then? While Mr. Moneybags wore his aloofness like the finest designer duds, being shunned because of his name obviously did rankle.

‘You look like you don’t want to be here. Maybe that scares people off.’

He shrugged. ‘I don’t care what people think. I’m here on business.’

‘Funny business, I bet,’ she muttered, earning another slight twitch of his mouth.

‘Don’t you have people to schmooze?’

‘Don’t you?’ she fired back, ashamed by her cheap shot considering he’d just told her this crowd were avoiding him and she’d seen the evidence firsthand with the Meyers.

His imperious gaze swept her from top to toe, visually stripping her black-silk-imprinted-with-crimson-roses strapless dress from her body. Her skin pebbled and prickled with awareness; she’d never felt so exposed.

‘I’m right where I want to be.’

It meant nothing, a line from a guy used to having women falling at his Prada-loafered feet. But in that moment, with warmth flowing through her body like liquid honey, she wished she could believe him.

As if sensing her reaction, he pushed off the wall and took a step forward. In her face, in her personal space.

Her senses went on high alert: too close, too hot, too much.

His lips kicked into a sexy grin. ‘Nothing to say? That’s a first.’

Biting back the irrational urge to reach up and pull his head down to within kissing distance, she eyeballed him. ‘You don’t know me.’

He leaned down and she braced against the incoming assault of hot male and crisp citrus.

‘Maybe I’d like to?’ He murmured in her ear, his warm breath tickling her and her eyelids fluttered shut, lost in the heat of undeniable attraction.

Before reality set in. That was all she needed: to get involved with the enemy.

His fingertip touched her ear lobe, trailing across her jaw, setting her alight.

Desire streaked through every common-sense reason for not grabbing his hand, dragging him out of here and back to her place.

She’d always been spontaneous when it came to guys, not following convention of waiting to be asked out. If she liked a guy, she let him know.

But as Jax stepped away, leaving her hot and bothered and yearning, she knew he was no ordinary guy.

She couldn’t toy with him. He wasn’t the type to tease or taunt without serious repercussions.

Considering the dire circumstances at Seaborn’s, did she really want to play with fire?

‘I’d like you to leave our mine alone.’

The glimmer of lust in his eyes didn’t dim. If anything, her feistiness seemed to turn him on.

‘And I’d like this city to acknowledge I’m nothing like my father and do business with me but we don’t always get what we want.’

His honesty stunned her and when his lips clamped and he tried to turn away, she grabbed his hand.

‘So you have a heart beneath that tough-guy exterior after all.’

He frowned but the rigidness around his mouth softened. ‘Nope.’

He tapped his chest. ‘No heart here; call me Tin Man.’

She loved The Wizard of Oz as a child and the fact this big, bad business bully knew the movie endeared him to her as nothing else could.

‘You want acceptance—’

‘For my business.’ He waved a dismissive hand at the crowd. ‘Couldn’t care less what they think of me.’

His clarification only solidified her impression that this deliberate ostracism had to mean more than he was letting on.

‘Okay, you want them to accept your business, and I want my family business to survive intact. Maybe we should brainstorm a solution to our problems?’

The frown deepened. ‘Why? As you pointed out, we barely know each other. Why the hell would I discuss my private business with you?’ He shook his head. ‘Business proposals I understand. This?’ He pointed at the crowd. ‘Not a hope.’

She stared at him, something tugging at the edge of her consciousness.

He’d used the word proposal again... What if they could nut out a proposal to benefit them both?

The idea shimmered and coalesced, detonating like an ill-timed bomb and she gasped.

‘What’s wrong?’

She glanced at his left hand.

‘Are you married?’

‘No.’

‘Involved with anyone?’

His frown eased, that sexy grin back. ‘If this is your way of asking me out—’

‘I’m not asking you out.’

She placed her palms against his chest, slid them across to his lapels and tugged him closer.

‘I’m asking you to marry me.’

When Denver had been arrested, Jax had been subjected to some pretty outlandish proposals from the media desperate to get the inside scoop.

None as outrageous as Ruby Seaborn asking him to marry her.

‘You know you don’t have to go to those lengths for me to put out. I’m good for it.’

She laughed, a genuine belly laugh that made something inside him twist with longing.

‘This isn’t what you think.’ She darted a glance over her shoulder—yeah, as if anyone would approach them as long as he was part of this twosome.

‘It’s a business proposal.’

She beckoned with a crook of her finger. He didn’t need to be asked twice to get up close and personal with her. When he’d whispered in her ear he’d smelled summer berries. Strawberry? Raspberry? Blueberry? A delicious compote that had him yearning to taste...

He pointed to her empty wine glass. ‘How many of those have you had?’

‘Not enough,’ she muttered, her wry grin adding to her intrigue.

He’d had women proposition him many times but none had been crazy enough to propose marriage.

‘Just hear me out, okay?’

She laid a hand on his forearm and he stilled, her touch innocuous, his libido’s reaction anything but.

‘I’m all ears.’

She slid her hand down to grab his and tug him across to the quietest corner in the room, tucked behind a towering potted palm near the caterer’s entrance.

‘Shouldn’t you get down on bended knee, do this right?’ he teased.

‘Shut up.’ She made a zipping motion across her lips.

‘Is that any way to talk to your prospective fiancé?’

‘Jeez, you’re a pain in the—’

‘You’re not sugar-coating how much you want to be my wife, I like that.’

Amusement lit her eyes. ‘Okay, I guess I deserve whatever you dish out considering how I blurted out that proposal. But once you hear what I have to say I’m sure you’ll agree marriage makes sense.’

He folded his arms. ‘You think? Because from where I’m standing, marrying a stranger holds little appeal. Not that I’m anti-marriage, mind you, but I always thought if I was crazy enough to shackle myself to a woman in matrimony, we’d have a serious relationship going first.’

She sighed. ‘You talk too much. Typical CEO.’

‘Typical?’

She puffed out her cheeks like a balloon. ‘Full of hot air and self-importance, likes the sound of his own voice.’

God, he loved sparring with her. Her quick wit plus her beauty and intelligence equalled a potential problem for his self-control.

‘Why don’t you rationalise your ludicrous proposal before you pump up my fragile ego any more?’

She snorted. ‘Fragile? Yeah, right.’

‘You’ve got two minutes starting now—’

‘Okay, okay.’ She held up her hands in surrender. ‘Sheesh, better add impatient to that list of your questionable attributes.’

‘Ninety seconds and counting—’

‘I want to save Seaborn’s, you want entry into Melbourne’s high society. I can give you the latter, if you agree to stop undercutting our mine for a year and give us a chance to turn our profit margins around.’

He knew blurting out that bit about the crowd shunning him had been a bad move. A smart woman like her had picked up on how much it really meant to him and was now using it to blackmail him into marriage. Gutsy.

‘What makes you think I need you to introduce me to Melbourne’s elite?’

She shook her head. ‘You disappoint me. I’m being honest with you; I expect the same in return.’

She jerked a thumb over her shoulder. ‘That mob—the movers and shakers?—tend to snub.’ She paused, the tip of her tongue darting out to moisten her top lip, and his gut tightened.

‘Especially you, with your background.’

Damn, she knew. Of course she’d know. Everyone in this city knew his lineage. They’d driven him away once and were still using it to beat him around the head.

Didn’t matter how much money his mine had turned over last year. Didn’t matter about profit margins or award recognition by the WA Mining Commission. Didn’t matter he’d busted his ass taking his mine to the top of the competition.

They still wouldn’t grant him access to what he needed most: Global Mining Corp, the governing body that controlled the fate of Maroney Mine and his dreams to take his company international.

Keeping a tight rein on his bitterness, he yawned. ‘I wouldn’t believe everything you hear.’

She tsked. ‘You’re taking me for a fool again. Shame, because it’s a good deal.’

Yeah, if he wanted to be shackled in a loveless marriage with a woman he barely knew.

He’d never really thought about getting married. He’d have to let a woman get close enough emotionally for a serious relationship to develop and he didn’t have the time or the inclination for that.

In the Kimberly region he focused on business. If he wanted some down-time and female company he’d head to Perth. He liked his dates uncomplicated and his sex with no strings attached.

Married to Ruby Seaborn? A move way beyond strings. More like Superman being hogtied with Kryptonite rope.

There had to be more to this ludicrous suggestion of hers. Why would a beautiful, intelligent young woman want to marry him to save her family business?

‘A good deal, huh?’ He screwed up his eyes, pretending to ponder. ‘So apart from having my lowly status elevated to Seaborn level, what do I get out of this marriage?’

The intent behind his question registered, if the faint blush staining her cheeks a beguiling pink and the aquamarine sparks in her eyes were any indication.

‘You’re talking about sex?’

There she went again, blowing him away with her bluntness. He’d never met a woman like her: bold, brazen, not afraid to speak her mind.

It turned him on, big time.

His gaze fell to her chest, rising and falling in time with her rapid breathing, before sweeping up to meet hers in blatant challenge.

‘The thought had crossed my mind.’

She folded her arms, but not before he’d glimpsed the telltale peak of her nipples.

She loved this as much as he did.

Defiant, she met his gaze dead-on. ‘It would only complicate things.’

‘Are you sure? It could also make this marriage mighty interesting.’

A vein pulsed in her neck and he resisted the urge to reach out and touch it.

She shook her head. ‘Uh-uh. Why add confusion to an already difficult situation?’

He chuckled. ‘Your wooing technique needs a little work.’

He tapped his temple. ‘Let’s see. I’d be shackling myself to you in a sexless difficult situation.’

He snapped his fingers. ‘Hell yeah, sounds like something I’d do.’

Her eyes narrowed, sparking defiance. ‘I don’t like being mocked.’

‘And I don’t like being played for a fool.’

He stepped forward, enjoying having the upper hand when she backtracked a tad. ‘As a win-win business proposal, I can see the mutual benefits in this. But we’re adults. We’re attracted to one another. There’s no reason why we shouldn’t indulge in a little bedroom recreation while the marriage lasts.’

To her credit, she eyeballed him but he noted the nervous tics: the fingers plucking at her dress’s sash, the clenched jaw, the crimson staining her ears.

He decided to up the ante. ‘Of course, I might like it out of the bedroom too. Is that still viable in our agreement?’

She blushed but didn’t look away and his admiration notched higher.

‘So let me get this straight. According to your terms we marry, we have sex and we both gain from the arrangement businesswise.’

She made it sound like an unappealing transaction.

He admired her chutzpah but couldn’t shake the feeling she wasn’t telling him everything.

‘That’s it. Take it or leave it,’ he said flatly.

He could see an emotional battle warring in her expressive eyes. She’d do anything to save her family business, including propose an outlandish marriage to a guy she hardly knew, a guy whom she’d booted out of her apartment last night with a resounding ‘when hell freezes over’ in response to his takeover bid.

She had to be mighty desperate to do this, and the fact he’d pushed his luck by insisting on sex? Underhanded.

Not that she’d agree to it—but he enjoyed pushing her buttons.

‘No sex.’ Her fiery green-eyed gaze radiated enough heat to burn him to the core and he couldn’t help but fantasise how sensational those sparks would translate to the bedroom. ‘That’s a deal-breaker,’ she said.

‘You’re in no position to make or break this deal,’ he pointed out, ramming home his advantage.

She needed him to agree and, while he could see the logic of such an arrangement, he never capitulated easily.

‘Fine, I’ll take it,’ she said through gritted teeth, her expression mutinous.

He ignored her muttered addendum, ‘without sex.’ Let her think he’d acquiesced to that stipulation. He’d delight in taking up the challenge to prove her wrong. ‘Good.’ He folded his arms and leaned against the wall, his smugness registering if her deepening frown was any indication. ‘Though let’s make one thing clear. There’s no place in this marriage for emotion. Women are notorious for falling in love and complicating matters.’

She laughed, a harsh sound devoid of amusement. ‘Me, fall in love with you?’

She made it sound as likely as him orchestrating a jailbreak.

She patted his chest and he stilled. He hated being patronised. ‘Don’t worry, there’s no chance of that happening.’

She placed a hand over her eyes than yanked it away. ‘See? No wool over these peepers. I’m under no illusions what this marriage is: convenient and mutually beneficial businesswise. That’s it.’

For some strange, inexplicable reason, her adamant stance that she had absolutely no chance of falling for him rankled strongly.

Not that he wanted her to fall in love with him, but why did she have to make it sound so ludicrous? Was it possible deep down that Ruby Seaborn harboured the same prejudices about him that the rest of her class did? Once a Maroney always a Maroney?

‘Well?’ With arms crossed she drummed her fingers against her hip, shifting her weight from side to side.

‘You’re serious about this?’

She rolled her eyes. ‘Do you really think I’d humiliate myself like this if I wasn’t?’

‘Good point.’

A refusal hovered on his lips. While the possibility of sex with the firebrand in front of him strongly appealed, he could think of less complicated ways to get it.

As for being accepted in this town... He glanced up and saw the CEO of an international mining giant in deep conversation with a rival.

He stiffened and jammed his hands into his pockets. As long as he was on the outskirts, a pariah, he’d never gain access to the corporate world here.

And he needed that access desperately to take Maroney Mine global.

While this ludicrous proposal irked, he’d do whatever it took to get this job done.

‘What’s wrong?’

‘Nothing.’ He deliberately relaxed and rolled his shoulders. ‘Would this arrangement have a time limit?’

A slight dent slashed her brows. ‘How long are you in town for?’

‘My original plan was three to six months.’

Her obvious relief annoyed him more than he cared to admit. ‘That gives us plenty of time for our objectives to be met, then you can head back to your precious mine and pretend we have a long-distance relationship.’

‘I said my original plan. My new plan involves sticking around longer than that.’

That floored her. She gaped and he placed a fingertip under her chin to close her mouth.

He chuckled. ‘You don’t honestly think I’d go through all this trouble to gain entry into moneyed circles only to bolt in a few months’ time?’ He shook his head. ‘Uh-uh. I’m here to stay.’

When she remained silent, continuing to stare at him as if he’d sprouted horns, he ducked down to whisper in her ear.

‘Still want to be my wife? Indefinitely?’

He expected her to retract, to bluster, to bolt.

He should’ve known she’d one-up him.

Sliding a hand around his neck to anchor him, she stood on tiptoes.

‘I do,’ she murmured against the side of his mouth, a moment before she kissed him.

CHAPTER FIVE

‘WHO’S the hot blonde you were lip-locking?’

Jax depended on Murray, his manager in Melbourne, but that didn’t mean he had to like him. The guy had waltzed into this shindig, shaken hands with half the crowd before eventually sidling up to his boss.

If Jax didn’t value his expertise, he’d fire his schmoozy ass.

He followed Murray’s line of vision, where Ruby held court in a group of preened, pampered women. They fawned over her, admiring her jewellery, touching the diamonds dangling from her ears. She smiled and nodded and chatted, at ease in this environment while he struggled to comprehend the enormity of what they’d agreed to.

‘She’s my...fiancée.’

Damn, saying it out loud didn’t make it easier to understand.

Murray whistled low. ‘Your what?’

‘You heard me.’

Murray smacked his palm against his ear. ‘Could’ve sworn you just said that hottie is your fiancée. Wow, she’s—’

Jax’s withering glare silenced his manager whose curious gaze swung between him and Ruby.

‘Why didn’t you say something?’

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