Untouched by His Diamonds

He wanted to phone her and hear her voice. He wanted to see her. More basically he wanted those long legs wrapped around him and her little sounds of pleasure urging him on.

But he was going to New York and time was what he didn’t have. She’d said something about a launch tonight. He could turn up, try his luck.

A wry smile touched his mouth. Life wasn’t about luck. It was about going after what you wanted with single-minded determination and not stopping until you had it. In business and personally.

No, better to ring and arrange to meet up with her. He didn’t want to give her much choice, and in the flesh, in broad daylight, he’d be a little more persuasive than he’d been last night. He’d respected her boundaries but it hadn’t got him far. He hadn’t turned a single gym into a billion-dollar business without knowing when to push.

Clementine settled at a pavement table, thanking the waiter who brought her a coffee. Across the road was the Verado flagship store, where she’d spent the morning and most of this last week. She’d agreed to meet Serge at this café because of its proximity to work.

When she’d heard his voice a couple of hours ago her whole world had ground to a halt. She’d drifted away from the group she was talking to and said breathlessly, ‘Serge,’ and literally heard his intake of breath. His voice had been pitched lower then, darkly seductive in its accented rumble. She’d closed her eyes just listening to it, lost in the sensual spell.

She really hadn’t thought he would call.

But he had, and now she was waiting for him because he wanted to see her, speak to her, probably organise a second date. He’d have to be quick. Her plane flew out at four tomorrow morning. He was keen, though. Barely twelve hours had passed since they’d said goodnight.

He might ask her to stay a little longer, and a big part of her was considering saying yes—oh, hell, yes.

Imagining she had lost him last night had made her a little more reckless than usual this morning. She had lain awake going over every minute of their date, isolating everything that told her Serge was nothing like Joe Carnegie. All of her instincts told her he was a good guy. He hadn’t pushed when it had been clear enough he had hoped for more. She wasn’t going to read anything into that. All men wanted more. It was just some could be obnoxious about it.

What bothered her was that she had let Joe Carnegie come between them at a crucial moment. She had wanted to kiss Serge last night but fear had held her back. Fear of it only being some sort of sexual conquest on his part, of opening herself up to another man only to have her sensibilities ripped apart. It was only a kiss, she reminded herself, but she had never felt so strongly attracted to a man in her life, and she needed to be sure before she went any further.

Thinking about it now, she tried not to have any regrets. Serge hadn’t walked away, and this morning he wanted to see her. He was keen. He liked her. He was making an effort.

Except he was late.

She glanced at her little watch, with its pretty diamond-studded face. She had bought it for herself soon after she’d landed the job with Verado. Most people had parents or significant others to help mark special occasions like that. A psychologist friend had told her it was important that when you didn’t have those mainstays in your life to make an effort to look after yourself, and so she had. And every morning when she slipped it onto her wrist she felt she was taking care of herself.

I’ll give him another five minutes, she told herself. He’s only a quarter of an hour late. Maybe it was traffic. But definitely five minutes. Maybe at a stretch ten…

‘Hello, beautiful girl.’

He was idling in front of her table, all height and muscles and testosterone. She took in the jeans, white T-shirt, brown leather jacket. He was freshly shaved, hair tousled, energy rolling off him in waves. Clementine didn’t look at him so much as collide with his deep green Tartar eyes, and her heart began to do a thuddy thing that made it hard to hear over the pounding of blood in her ears.

‘Oh, hi.’ She endeavoured to sound casual.

He gestured abruptly to the waiter. ‘What would you like to eat, kisa?’

‘Oh, I can’t stay,’ said Clementine, getting herself together. ‘I’m supposed to be at my job, and you’re late, so I can only give you five minutes.’

He dragged a chair up close to her and straddled it. As he dropped in front of her she gave an involuntary jump. His sudden physical proximity made it very difficult to hold her ground and her first instinct was to retreat back in her chair. He smiled knowingly, as if her reticence was exactly what he was after.

‘Give me five minutes, then.’