Page 16 of The Tycoon's Diamond Demand

Jens waited until her eyes closed, and her lashes lay on her cheeks. Pulling his phone from his inner jacket pocket, he pulled up the arts section of a reputable newspaper and started to read the best parts from her many reviews. His eyes bounced between the screen and her face, and a smile lifted the corner of her mouth.

‘A force to be reckoned with,’ Jens ended, slipping his phone back into his pocket, his eyes on her lovely face. ‘Congratulations, Maja. That’s a hell of an achievement.’

She sighed and kept her eyes closed as she sipped her champagne. ‘Yeah, it is. I rock. I kicked art butt today.’

A laugh rolled up and out of him and Jens felt as surprised by it as Maja looked. She’d always had the ability to keep him off balance, to knock him off course. Back then, he could be mad as hell at something, and a quip from Maja would have him laughing. He would be knee-deep in accounts, feel her hand on his back and twenty seconds later he’d have her up against a wall, kissing her.

Her eyes opened, slammed into his and lust flared in her eyes. The pulse point in her neck fluttered, her heart rate was up. So was his, and his heart was trying to punch its way out of his chest.

Neither looked away for what felt like hours, possibly years, and Jens wondered if she was remembering the nights they spent in each other’s arms, laughing, loving, burning up the sheets. The chemistry between them had always been instantaneous, a connection resulting in massive sparks and fireworks.

The urge to kiss her, to lay her across his desk and strip that gorgeous gown off her body, was irresistible. As he took a step to close the gap between them, she held up her left hand and flashed her ring.

‘You said that you’d make the announcement at midnight. It has to be past that,’ Maja informed her, her voice shaky.

Right. He straightened his tie and hauled in some much-needed air. To buy himself some time, he glanced at his watch and raked his hand through his hair. He reached for the doorknob and opened the door.

‘Jens?’

He turned to look at her and lifted his eyebrows. She lifted her empty glass. ‘Thanks for...that. For celebrating with me, just a little.’

He clocked the gratitude in her eyes and wished he could’ve done more. Flown her to Paris and arranged to have supper in the Louvre. Taken her on a private tour through the Metropolitan Museum of Art. Money, lots of money, could get you pretty much anything you wanted.

‘Ready?’ he asked.

Maja shook her head, tension sliding into her. ‘No. But that doesn’t matter, does it?’ she said, her voice low but resigned. They were back to being adversaries. The moment had passed, and they were who they were before.

That was how it should be. Besides, revenge was so much easier to navigate than a relationship.

Jens took Maja’s hand and asked the bandleader to quieten the crowd. When all eyes were on them, he placed his hand on Maja’s hip and forced a smile onto his face. ‘Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for being here tonight. I would like to announce that Maja Hagen has done me the great honour of agreeing to become my wife.’

He felt a shudder run through Maja and waited for the gasps of amazement and mutters of congratulations to settle down. ‘We plan to be married very, very soon, so keep an eye out for your wedding invitation.’ Jens picked up a glass of champagne, wished it were whisky, and turned to face Maja. He lifted the glass. ‘To Maja.’

The crowd echoed his words, but Jens didn’t take his eyes off her incredibly lovely face. Attraction sparked, then burned and he lowered his head to kiss her.

In the dim light, she looked up at him, desire in her eyes. ‘Don’t, Jens,’ Maja softly begged him, her words just loud enough for him to hear.

‘It’s expected,’ he replied, his voice raspy with need, his thumb running over the ball of her bare shoulder. Her skin was so smooth, luscious... He knew he shouldn’t touch her, understood he was flirting with fire, the possible destruction of all his plans. Right now, he didn’t care. He needed to feel the lick of the flames she’d created.

‘Tell me you want me to kiss you,’ he growled against her lips, sounding desperate. He was.

He could demand she marry him, could blackmail her and bully her into walking down the aisle, but he wouldn’t take anything she wouldn’t give, he would never force himself on her.

Every muscle in his body clenched as he kept his eyes on hers, watching as she wrestled with the need to taste him again, to place her hands on him. He’d been around block, more times than he cared to admit, and knew their sexual attraction was as strong as before, possibly even more potent. He wanted her more than he did before. How was that possible? Was it because back then she’d been a girl, but now she was a woman, and more beautiful for being stronger and more experienced? She’d come into her power, and he wanted to experience it.

But, despite their audience, kissing him still had to be her choice. A part of him hoped she stepped away, that she had more sense than he possessed.

He waited. Then waited some more, refusing to drop his eyes, back down or step away. She matched him stare for stare, breath for torrid breath. He was scared she’d back away, scared she wouldn’t. He lifted one eyebrow in a silent dare and watched the sparks in her eyes turn into flames. She narrowed her eyes, placed her hands on his chest and stood on her toes to reach his mouth...

Closer, closer...

And then her lips met his and he was lost. Or found. Unable to wait for another second to have his hands on her, he slid his hand over her lower back and pulled her into him, and he tasted her groan. He slid his tongue into her open mouth and when it touched hers, he felt her stiffen. It could go either way, she could either pull back or she could dive into the kiss. The odds were fairly even.

Her hands snaked up his arms, gripped his biceps and she twisted her tongue around his and all the blood in his system gushed from his head. The only thing he could do was to gather her close, as close as they could get, her hard nipples pushing into his chest, his thigh between hers, one hand in her hair, the other flat between her shoulder blades keeping her in place. Tongues tangled and duelled, slid, and Jens sighed, unable to believe he had his longest fantasy, his biggest wish, his favourite regret, back in his arms.

Kissing Maja was heaven and hell, the best of both, and everything in between. When they kissed, when they touched, everything between them—fathers and feuds—fell away and became irrelevant. All that mattered was the way they made each other feel...

Jens moved his hand so that both hands held her head, moving her so that he could deepen their kiss. Without warning she jerked back, putting space between them. ‘I think we’ve given everyone enough of a show,’ she said, keeping her voice low.

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