Claimed (Diamond Tycoons 1)

“The whole afternoon,” he agreed. And though he felt guilty for his suspicions, he still wasn’t moving. Not when she was trying so hard to get rid of him. And not when she was currently concentrating on some of the smallest diamonds in the vault. He didn’t like the looks of it and while he wasn’t stupid enough to tell her that, he also wasn’t stupid enough to leave her alone in here like a kid in an unsupervised candy store.

Isa gave him a strange look as she settled back down at her desk and returned to work, but he pretended not to notice. Which was so much better than letting her see how nervous she made him...and on how many different levels.

Fifteen

Marc was acting weird. Not crazy, need-a-straitjacket weird or anything like that, but he was definitely a little off. She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye as she finally finished checking the last diamond in the current batch and placed it back in the blue velvet–lined drawer.

He wasn’t looking at her, wasn’t paying attention to her at all. Which was fine—he was CEO of Bijoux, after all, and she was sure he had a lot of work to do, especially considering the allegations leveled at the company—but it still made her feel funny. As if she wasn’t important enough for him to pay attention to. Or, as he hadn’t made any move to touch her since he came into the vault, as if what had passed between them over the weekend had never happened.

He hadn’t even risen to the bait when she’d used the word nice...which made her feel even more as though he wanted to forget making love to her.

Having sex, she reminded herself a little bitterly as she carried the drawer back to its place and slid it into the long, slender opening in a wall that was covered with row after row, column after column, of just such drawers.

The Bijoux vault was organized by size, color and clarity—pretty much like any vault she’d ever been in. Sticking with the smaller stones of lesser quality she moved to her right two columns and pulled out a drawer that was second from the top, then carried it back to her makeshift desk.

Marc had yet to say anything, or even look up from his smartphone, where he was currently scrolling away like the weight of the world depended on how fast he moved his index finger. It annoyed her all over again—she didn’t need much attention, but something would be nice. A smile. A few careless sentences. An acknowledgment that they’d spent the entire weekend together, working and making love.

She ended up slamming down the drawer on the desk a lot harder than she’d intended to.

The sharp crack echoed through the room and for the first time since he’d settled in the chair next to her, Marc looked up with a frown. “Everything okay?” he asked.

“Yes. Everything’s nice.” She stressed the word a second time, even knowing she was being something of a brat. But he was getting under her skin and though she knew it was her fault for letting him, she couldn’t help it. If all he’d wanted was a two-night stand, he could have said so, right? He’d had no problem saying it after the first time he’d crawled out of bed with her on Saturday morning. Why hadn’t he said something to the same effect this morning when he’d dropped her off? Something like, “I had a nice time, but with the work you’re doing for Bijoux, I really think we should keep it professional from here on out.”

She probably would have snarled at him, would definitely have thought he was a douche. But then, she’d decided sometime in the past hour that he was a douche anyway, so it’s not as if he’d gained anything by playing his games. Whatever those games might be and whatever purpose he thought they might serve.

She didn’t say anything as she got back to work, opening the drawer and pulling out a selection of diamonds in the quarter carat, slightly included range. As with the drawer she had just examined, these were some of the cheapest diamonds in the vault. While the drawer of them was worth hundreds of thousands of dollars, individually each was only worth a hundred or so.

“Can I ask a question?” Marc asked, and she looked up to find him studying her intently.

“Of course. That’d be nice,” she answered.

His eyes narrowed to slits and she knew she’d pushed the nice thing as far as she would get away with. Which was fine, because the longer he went without calling her on it, the more like a spoiled brat she felt.

“Why are you dealing with only the small diamonds? Shouldn’t you be looking at the bigger ones? If someone at Bijoux is playing fast and

loose with serial numbers and countries of origin, they’d be more likely to make a significant amount of money by passing off a large diamond as conflict free rather than a small one.”

“You’d think so, but my colleagues’ and my experience has borne out the exact opposite to be true. Big diamonds are flashy, they draw more attention and so it’s harder to keep a fraud going for any length of time. There’s just too much scrutiny on stones over a carat, especially when they’re VVS1 or VVS2. Everyone wants a look at stones that are only very, very slightly included.

“Whereas, with these stones, nobody pays much attention. They aren’t very glamorous and they aren’t worth very much money in the grand scheme of things, so people—jewelers, conflict-free experts, consumers—have a tendency to not pay as much attention to them. After all, who would go through the trouble of forging papers on a stone that’s barely worth a hundred bucks? Especially if they only stand to gain a couple extra dollars on it?”

“Someone who’s faking it on thousands of stones,” he offered.

“Yes. Or, more likely, hundreds of thousands. Then the money suddenly becomes a lot more worth it.”

“Yeah, I guess. If you don’t mind selling your soul for a little profit.”

He looked so disgusted that she couldn’t help laughing. “I think you’ve forgotten the basics of Human Greed 101,” she told him. “Not to mention the very foundations on which the diamond market functions.”

“I wish.” He flashed her his first real smile of the afternoon. “So that’s why you’re concentrating on the small diamonds. Because it’s easier for someone to flip in a few fakes there than in the stones of significant size.”

“Absolutely.” She looked at him curiously. “Why else would I be spending all my time with these stones when the right side of the vault is filled with so many more beautiful ones? Which, incidentally, I will be getting to. But not until after I deal with these.”

He shrugged, grinned at her. “No rush. I want both of us to be completely satisfied as to the validity of my stones’ origins.”

She nodded hesitantly, feeling a little like Alice tumbling down the rabbit hole as he shot her another blinding smile. Because this time when she settled back down to work, Marc didn’t ignore her. Instead, he lifted his head often and smiled at her. Offered to refill the water bottle that rested, forgotten, on the corner of her desk. It was as if he was a different man than the one she’d spent the past hour with and she couldn’t help wondering at the schizophrenic behavior. Especially when she’d convinced herself that his previous behavior had been because he wanted to make sure she got the hint about his intentions—or lack of intentions—about their relationship.

She still wasn’t sure what was going on. After all, who wanted to waste their time on “nice” when they could be aiming for spectacular?