Page 37 of Her Diamond Deal with the CEO

‘Well done.’

She turned. Jack was standing behind her clapping slowly. He had pushed the sunglasses to the top of his head and the intensity of his gaze made her skin sting. What was he thinking when he looked at her like that? As if he couldn’t look away.

Feeling exposed, she pulled a face. ‘Honestly, I don’t think any game has ever made me so furious or close to violence.’

He laughed then, softly, a real laugh that made his eyes gleam brighter than the sun, and she could feel the sound pulling her in.

‘You’re actually pretty good for a beginner. You just need to get a bit more ruthless.’ His smile tugged at something loose inside her. ‘Like me.’

The sun was behind him, and the light clung to him as greedily as her eyes.

‘You’re not ruthless.’

‘Am I not?’

As his eyes found hers, her stomach knotted fiercely. She had spoken without thinking, prompted by the memory of nights when he had sat with her in the bathroom. Nobody was watching. He could have stayed in his room, but whatever his reason for not doing so, it could hardly be described as ruthless. Instead, he had been kind, and so unfazed that, after the first time, she hadn’t felt self-conscious at all. And now here they were playing croquet, and he was a surprisingly good teacher. Relaxed, funny, encouraging. When the time came, he would be a good father.

Her throat tightened. But first he would have to accept that he was one.

Lifting her mallet, she let it swing gently, feeling its weight. True to her word, she hadn’t raised the subject of the baby with him since that taut conversation out on the veranda, and it had been easy enough to put it to the back of her mind when she was being sick, but could it seriously stay off-limits for ever?

Then again, what had changed between them? Her morning sickness might have prompted some sort of truce, but one game of croquet didn’t mean Jack was any closer to believing he was the father of their baby. Or that he even wanted to co-parent. She couldn’t in all honesty say that was what she wanted either. Of course, her ideal would be to raise her child in a close, happy family. But her marriage to Jack was a long way from that ideal.

Crucially it was not based on love or permanence.

‘Sometimes,’ she said quickly. ‘But it can’t just be about ruthlessness. Surely there must be something I can do to get better because right now it feels like I’d have as much luck playing with a flamingo.’

She had kept her voice light and jokey, but Jack didn’t laugh, he just stared at her speculatively, and for one horrible moment she thought he was going to ask her why she had defended him. But finally, he nodded slowly and said, ‘There are some ways you can improve your swing. Offhand, I’d say you need to keep your head lower when you hit the ball and I think it would help if you loosened your grip.’ He hesitated. ‘I could show you. If you’ll let me.’

The breath jerked in her throat.

It was the first time that he had referred, albeit obliquely, to what had happened yesterday on the beach. She still couldn’t quite believe what he had told her. Not just that he couldn’t swim but, knowing that, he had still leapt into the sea.

And the reason he’d given for doing so? Did she believe that? She felt the blood in her heart pull back sharply like the tide around a breakwater. Truthfully, she didn’t know. Having spent time with him, she could imagine his frustration at finding himself trapped on a yacht, and he was certainly impulsive. She wouldn’t be here now if he weren’t. And yet she couldn’t help but feel that there was more to it.

Maybe she should have pressed him, but she knew how hard it was to reveal your weaknesses to other people. Look at all the things she was keeping hidden from Jack. Only there was no reason to tell him the truth. Particularly when he was still refusing to accept the biggest truth between them.

A small shiver of sadness wound through her. Aside from a baby he wouldn’t acknowledge, all that connected them was a piece of paper with some signatures on it.

Her throat was suddenly dry and tight so that it was difficult to swallow.

That was a lie. Out on the beach yesterday, they’d been on the verge of kissing again. At some point between him telling her that all this was ‘her life’ and her taking his hand, something had shifted. The light dancing off the waves had changed. The breeze had softened. And that thing that they both pretended wasn’t there had pulled taut, reeling them closer and closer—

Yes, but only because he had opened up to her, she told herself firmly. And because they had been on a beach again and everything had felt muddled. If she were standing that close to him now, here on this perfectly manicured lawn, it would feel completely different. Neutral.

It was then that she realised that Jack was staring at her and that she had no idea how long he had been waiting for her to reply to him.

‘Go on, then. You can show me. On one condition: you join me in the pool later.’ Lifting her mallet, she jabbed him lightly in the stomach. ‘Oh, and try not to do the whole mansplaining thing.’

His mouth curled into one of those crooked smiles that instantly made her feel as panicky and breathless as a fish on a hook. ‘Spoilsport.’

As he stepped closer, she felt her pulse change up a gear. ‘Okay, what matters isn’t so much how high you grip as the pressure you apply,’ he said softly. ‘You need to let the wood flow beneath your fingers.’

The hair on the nape of her neck rose as he moved behind her and she felt his cheek next to hers, and then his hands were overlapping hers and he was loosening her fingers, altering her grip around the smooth wooden handle. She tried to focus on what he was saying but it was difficult to concentrate when all she could think about was those same hands moving over her body, their rough urgency making her forget everything but her need for him in that moment.

‘Like this,’ he said, and his voice was soft and low as it vibrated against her throat. ‘Then it’s easier to swing. Can you feel it?’

She nodded because she couldn’t speak. He was too close and his body was hot, pressed against her back so it felt as if she were melting into him, and she would have stayed like that for ever, with his arms shielding her from the world and his breath mingling with hers, but then she remembered what she had told herself seconds earlier and she slid away from him.

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