Diamonds are for Surrender. Bronwyn Jameson

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Diamonds are for Surrender - Bronwyn Jameson


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I took this position—” her gaze, direct and unwavering, met Ric’s as he swung around “—who would I be working under?”

      “That would depend on the project,” he replied carefully, ignoring his libido’s grunt of response to her wording.

      “The projects being …?”

      “The big one is the launch of the latest jewellery collections. I’m guessing Danielle would have told you about the gala show?”

      “A little.” She tried for cool, but failed to hide the sparkle of interest that lit her expression. “It’s next month, right?”

      “February twenty-ninth. Even without recent events, this year’s show has special significance.”

      “The ten-year anniversary of Blackstone Jewellery,” she guessed without hesitation. “So, the usual birthday celebrations, continuing promotions, ad campaigns?”

      “All that.”

      “I’m guessing this would be well covered by the marketing department. What, exactly, would I be doing?”

      Looking into her eyes, Ric felt an adrenaline punch of response. This is what he’d missed—her quick pickups, her sharp comebacks, the verbal duels that were never predictable but always stirred something vital inside him. “If I knew, then I wouldn’t need you.”

      “I?” she countered. “Not the royal we?”

      “Interchangeable.” He figured she knew that anyway. It’s why she’d asked who she’d be working under. “In this case, you’ll be working with Ryan and his staff, supplementing the marketing plan to generate positive press for the Blackstone brand in general and the launch show in particular. As for how you do that—” he spread his hands expansively “—that’s your job. To explore the possibilities.”

      “And answerable to Ryan?” she murmured after a moment’s consideration. “He would be my boss?”

      “On this project.”

      “And overall?”

      “The new CEO, as appointed by the board.”

      “Meaning there’s a fair chance it will be you.”

      “An even chance. Ryan is a Blackstone, a significant point in his favour. But if I am appointed—” Ric narrowed his gaze on hers as he closed the space between them “—is the prospect of working beneath me a deal breaker?”

      She came to her feet and faced him with cool pride in her stance and etched in her expression. “I wouldn’t return to work for my father, why on earth would I consider working for you?”

      “Because we need you, Kim. Blackstone’s, your brother, the company, each and every member of our workforce—we need you working with us. I sincerely hope you understand what I’m offering is on behalf of the management team, and that you won’t let our past stand in the way of the Blackstone future.”

      Seven

      Kimberley’s heart drummed like a jackhammer against her rib cage. Poor, foolish, easily swayed thing wanted to believe in his sincerity even while her brain chirped a warning to beware his motives.

      “I’m not a naive twenty-one-year-old now,” she began, her voice surprisingly even given the rough cadence of her pulse. “I won’t be taken in by your sweet rhetoric and I won’t be used just because I’m Kimberley Blackstone.”

      “Used?” Perrini’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “I’ve never used you, Kim. Not in any sense.”

      “You still don’t see that pursuing and marrying your boss’s daughter in order to secure a plum promotion—”

      “Let’s get one thing straight. I always wanted you, the woman, enough that it didn’t matter that you were Kimberley Blackstone. From where I stood that was a big, fat strike against you, not just because you were the boss’s daughter but because you inherited so many of Howard’s pain-in-the-ass qualities.”

      She must have looked as outraged as she felt, because he expelled a harsh-sounding laugh and shook his head.

      “You said you didn’t want any of my rhetoric, so let’s try some home truths. You’re stubborn, cynical, opinionated, but on the flip side there’s your quick brain and your passion for this business, your honesty and humour and the way you lift your chin whenever you take a stance on something you believe in. Yeah, just like that,” he said in a low, rough-edged voice that resonated through her blood. “Whether it’s right or wrong, it doesn’t matter. You stand by your word and that’s one of the many reasons I pursued you. Not with any ambition other than to have you. In any and every way that I could.”

      The silence following his speech crackled with the undistilled passion of his delivery. This wasn’t the smooth charmer, the slick orator, the silver-tongued lover. This was a side Perrini showed so rarely that it stunned Kimberley into silence.

      “That day in the Hammond workroom,” he continued, “you said you should never have married me.”

      “And you agreed.” Finally she found her voice, although it rasped with raw emotion. “You said our marriage was a mistake.”

      That coldly conveyed summation had pierced her heart like a spear of ice, before shattering into a hundred frosty shards. The final, chilling end of that argument and of their union.

      “It was a mistake,” he said bluntly, stunning her all over again. “I married you for the wrong reason. I thought I was calling your father’s bluff.”

      “What do you mean?”

      “That Christmas, before we left for our holiday in San Francisco, he had a word with me over a quiet whisky. He knew we were lovers—maybe he had all along—and he played the outraged father. Said he didn’t appreciate us creeping around behind his back and suggested, forcefully, that if I wanted to bed you, I could damn well marry you.”

      That was so like Howard, Kimberley couldn’t summon a quarter-carat of shock. She’d known her father had orchestrated their marriage; she just hadn’t known the details. At the time she’d been too outraged, too shattered, too betrayed to believe any explanations.

      And now … at least now she knew what had prompted Perrini’s out-of-the-blue proposal. “So you thought, why the hell not?”

      “I wanted you here, in my home, every night, every day. So, yeah, I thought why not marry you? I sure as hell didn’t expect we’d be welcomed home with open arms. I’d married his only daughter—the Blackstone heiress—in a Vegas chapel. I expected your father would be livid.”

      Instead Perrini had been rewarded hugely for taking the initiative. He’d passed the Howard Blackstone test. He’d proven he had balls.

      And Kimberley, if she’d played along, would have been relegated to the subordinate role of wife and mother, a part she could never even pretend to play. Infuriated, she’d lashed out at them both. When Perrini sided with her father, she’d walked.

      “It didn’t quite work out how any of us expected,” she said. “Even for Howard.”

      “Especially for Howard. He wanted you back at Blackstone’s, Kim. He was just too proud and stubborn to admit it.”

      Perhaps, but now she would never know. Regret and sadness thickened in her throat. “It’s history now. All of this. We can’t go back and change anything we did or said.”

      “No, but you’re letting that history influence your decision.”

      “And I shouldn’t?”

      “That’s up to you. But just so everything is clear and aboveboard, let me say this.” His eyes narrowed with a dangerous glint of purpose and challenge. “I want you back at Blackstone’s and I want you back in my life. Whether you accept the business proposal will have


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