Page 22 of Her Diamond Deal with the CEO

She felt a jolt of jealousy, as sharp as it was irrational. Jack was her husband, but in name only. Most of the time she wasn’t even sure she liked him. They had no relationship. No shared history. Unless by history you meant one heated sexual encounter and one kiss too many.

Her skin felt suddenly too tight. She could almost excuse herself for what had happened on that first day. They had been in shock, both of them unravelling with the enormity of what could have happened. But that kiss at the courthouse had been cool-headed, unscrupulous on his part, anyway. And she was angry with him. For not knowing, or, if he did know, not caring about the effect it had had. Glancing over her shoulder, she caught the young woman staring after her enviously. But then maybe it happened so frequently, he’d stopped noticing.

If only she could do the same.

The gallery was as cool and quiet as the clientele milling in front of the paintings. She felt like a fraud. What did she know about art? Leaning in to examine what looked like a scribble of orange over a smudge of green, she noticed the price.

How much?

‘Do you like it?’

She turned. Jack stood behind her, his gaze not on the painting but on her face, his eyes narrowed as if she were a puzzle he was trying to complete.

‘It’s interesting,’ she said cautiously.

He laughed. Several people turned around and she felt her cheeks grow warm. ‘Spoken like a true art critic.’

She shrugged. ‘I don’t understand art.’

His mesmerising gold eyes travelled over her face. ‘I disagree.’ He took a step closer so that they were only inches apart and the curve of his jaw and the flawless skin over his cheekbones was more fascinating than any painting and she wanted to lean in closer. To touch. To explore. To understand him.

‘You know if you like something or if you don’t. If you find it compelling. Cryptic. Beautiful.’ The light in his eyes sharpened, and she felt her skin grow hotter and tighter.

‘If you see it. If you feel it here—’ he reached out and touched her heart lightly with his fingers ‘—then you know all you can ever know. All you need to know. You have to trust yourself.’

Her hands twitched, then bunched into fists as if she couldn’t control them. ‘I don’t trust easily.’

‘I don’t either.’ He held her gaze. Maybe he was holding her breath too because her head was starting to spin and she felt suddenly fragile, adrift—

Her need for him, for it to be real, banged through her like a gong, and she felt almost queasy with panic, and, taking a step backwards, she said, ‘I wish I’d come here before.’ She fought to keep her voice light and careless. ‘Then I wouldn’t have had to marry you. I could have just bought some paints and knocked up some “art”. I would have cleared my debts in no time.’

Jack stared at her in silence, his teeth on edge, his body tense.

Just for a moment there, he had forgotten all of it. The mess he’d made at work. The water pulling him under. The spat on the plane and the tension of those hours spent barricaded in their bedroom.

Everything, everyone had been forgotten as her eyes had met his and the need in her eyes had shuddered all the way through him in a way that had made him feel undone.

Only then the shutters had come down and he felt like a fool, a stupid child again.

He needed a coffee. Actually, he needed a whisky, but a coffee would have to do. Catching hold of Ondine’s elbow, he began to nudge her towards the gallery’s café.

‘I might just grab an espresso. Would you like something, darling?’

He felt her tense, and then her eyes widened and she tugged her arm free. ‘Excuse me. I just...’

Now what? He stared after her, pulse ticcing with disbelief even as his brain followed the sway of her hips into the restroom.

‘Would you like me to go and check on her?’

What?

He turned to the woman who had spoken. She was standing next to a man wearing a baby sling. The baby was facing outwards, fingers crammed into her mouth, her eyes the same startling blue as Ondine’s.

The woman smiled sympathetically, then turned to the man standing beside her and said, ‘I was just the same, wasn’t I?’ Glancing over at the coffee shop, she shuddered. ‘Even just thinking about coffee used to set me off. But it’s worth it.’ Her face softened as the baby reached up, mouth opening to reveal two tiny white teeth. ‘And it’s actually a good sign.’

Jack stared at the baby. He was having to remember to breathe. ‘Good sign?’ he said slowly.

‘My doctor always said morning sickness was a sign of a strong pregnancy.’ She hesitated. ‘Are you sure you don’t want me to go check on her?’

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