Showdown at Shadow Junction. Joanna Wayne
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that she saw reflected in the glass. It was the incredibly handsome Spaniard standing behind her with his dark, soul-searing eyes and seductive glances. The man who had mesmerized her for the past two weeks.
His hands brushed her shoulders as he fastened the sparkling work of art around her neck. The shimmering jewels fell into the swell of her cleavage just above the spaghetti-strap red cocktail dress she’d splurged a month’s wages on for tonight’s event.
“It’s breathtakingly beautiful,” she murmured truthfully.
“It’s you who is breathtaking, Jade. The jewels merely accentuate your natural beauty.”
Charm oozed from Quaid every time he opened his mouth. Yet she sensed something more poignant in his manner tonight. Probably just more relaxed because it was the end of his visit to America.
Or could he possibly be interested in a romantic interlude now that their business association was reaching its conclusion? Would he invite her to visit him in his lavish lakeside villa in Spain or perhaps to sail around the Greek Islands on his massive yacht?
Don’t even go there, she cautioned herself. The man had supermodels and royalty at his beck and call.
Tonight’s event promised to be his best-attended showing to date. His reputation had skyrocketed since his arrival in New York. Wearing jewelry from Quaid Vaquero’s collection had become the rage among the ultra-wealthy society set.
Quaid put his mouth to her ear as if they were exchanging secrets. “I would be honored if you’d wear the necklace this evening.”
His warm breath on her neck was intoxicating. His offer was incredibly tempting. It was also a terrible idea. Her job was to make certain the night went without a snag, not to model and play princess.
“I’d love to wear this necklace, Quaid. As it is, you might have to pry it from my neck. But anything this valuable must be under one of the museum-quality glass domes for tonight’s showing.”
“You’ve assured me there will be cameras and plainclothes security personnel in abundance.”
“Yes, but there are other drawbacks to my wearing it.”
“Such as?”
Quaid’s fingers trailed seductively from the back of her neck to her bare shoulders. He was not making this easy.
“The necklace must be displayed appropriately so that your potential customers can examine it thoroughly through the glass and hopefully request to try it on.”
“Point made. But let me enjoy it on you for the moment.”
“For a moment,” she acquiesced, “but we really should be going soon. I’m sure the first of your guests are already arriving. They’re here to meet you as much as they are to see your creations.”
“They can wait. First, I have a gift for you.”
“Honestly, that’s not necessary.”
“Gifts are never necessary, Jade. They should always come from the heart.”
He turned, tugged her around to face him and took both her hands in his. Her heart pounded. He was going to kiss her. This was a working assignment. She should step away.
Instead, she lifted her lips toward his. The moment was interrupted by a light tapping.
“Room service.”
Quaid didn’t hide his annoyance as he walked over and opened the door. “I didn’t order anything.”
“I’ve got the ticket right here. Room 2333. Champagne for two.”
“Someone wishing you luck,” Jade said, “not that you’ll need it. Your talent speaks for itself.”
Quaid stepped aside as the young, uniformed hotel employee pushed in a table holding a bottle of chilled champagne.
The attendant lifted the bottle from the crystal bucket for them to examine. Jade recognized the label and knew from previous events at this hotel that the champagne sold for over five hundred dollars a bottle.
“Can you at least tell me who sent this,” Quaid asked the server, “so that I’ll know whom to thank?”
The young man looked at the ticket again. “The only information on here is that it’s for Mr. Quaid Vaquero at this room number. No charge to you. If you call room service, they may be able to tell you.”
“Yes, I’ll check with them later.”
“Shall I pop the cork and pour?” the server asked.
“You’re already here,” Quaid said, “so you may as well.”
Quaid turned back to Jade, took her hand with an unexpected familiarity and led her to the window that offered a magnificent view of the city. “I could have done without the interruption.”
“Yes, but you have a very generous friend,” Jade said. Odd timing, though, unless the person who had it delivered knew he was unveiling the necklace to her in his suite.
The cork popped loudly.
Quaid ignored it and slipped his arm around her waist. “I expected to hate New York, but I have loved every minute of my visit. I owe most of that to you.”
“You give me far too much credit. New York has a magic all its own. I was only sixteen when I first visited here with my mother. I knew then I was a big-city girl.”
“Can I get you anything else?” the server asked.
“That will be all.” Quaid turned back to him, pulled a money clip from his right front pocket and placed a tip on the cart. He waited until they were alone again before he handed Jade a flute of the sparkling bubbly.
“To successful ventures of business and of the heart,” he said, lifting his glass.
Jade clinked hers with his, though she was afraid to even guess what he meant by the last part of the toast.
Now that she thought about it, she wondered if he had ordered the champagne himself. This supposedly impromptu meeting was feeling more like an orchestrated seduction scene by the minute.
What was he looking for from her? A sexual hookup on his last night in the States? One-night stands were not her style.
But what if he offered more? A visit to his lavish Barcelona villa to get know her better? A few weeks on his yacht?
They’d almost finished their champagne before Quaid reached into the pocket of his tailor-made sport coat. He pulled out a small shiny red box tied with silver ribbon, the trademark wrapping for a custom-made Vaquero jeweled creation.
Surely he wasn’t planning to give her anything that pricey—unless he really was interested in pursuing a relationship. As tempting as it all sounded, she didn’t know that she was interested. She loved her life just as it was.
Quaid handed her the box.
She finished off her champagne, suddenly too nervous to even tug the ribbon loose from the package. Finally, she eased the silver bow from around the corners and lifted the lid. She stared, too overwhelmed to speak.
“Do you like them?”
“I love them. How could I not?” She gingerly lifted one of the earrings from its nest of black velvet. A dangling emerald shimmered with a thousand pinpoints of light.
“I don’t know what to say. They’re exquisite. I’ve never owned anything like this, but...”
“Say thank you,” Quaid suggested. “I designed and had them made especially for you.”
She was stunned. Emotionally touched. Light-headed.
“They’re absolutely exquisite, but I really can’t accept...” The emerald began to dance in front of her eyes. Her tongue grew thick, slurring her words.
She