Page 5 of Her Diamond Deal with the CEO

‘I’d rather wait than go to the Solace.’ He frowned. ‘They know me there. Know my family. I don’t need any more drama.’

That she could believe, she thought, as they returned to the car an hour later.

She had told herself that it was his money and air of entitlement that made people react to him as they did, but, slouched against the reception desk in borrowed flip-flops and with half his face hidden behind her sunglasses, Jack Walcott had still created a stir. There was something about him that had made the air in the waiting room shiver with anticipation.

The doctor, a tired-looking man with greying hair, had given Jack the all-clear. But then he’d turned to Ondine and said, ‘You need to keep an eye on your husband, Mrs Walcott. He needs rest but I would sit with him while he sleeps. Any difficulties in breathing, change in colour or if it’s hard to wake him up, come straight back in.’

‘She will—won’t you, honey?’ Jack had said, his eyes gleaming. ‘She’s a great wife. I’m a very lucky man.’

She should have corrected him but instead she’d found herself nodding. ‘Yes, I can do that.’

‘I’ll drop you back at Whitecaps,’ she said now, reversing out of the space. ‘You have someone there who can keep an eye on you, don’t you?’

His eyes rested on her face. ‘How do you know where I’m staying?’

She swore silently but there was no way to backtrack. ‘I work there,’ she said finally, looking up to meet his gaze. ‘I recognised you.’

He leaned back, his pupils flaring. ‘I thought you seemed familiar.’ His forehead creased. It gave him a puppyish air that she found immensely irritating. Or rather she found it irritating the way her body responded.

‘I’m one of the lifeguards,’ she said stiffly. ‘You probably saw me at the pool or the beach.’ Hands tightening around the wheel, she turned into the oncoming traffic. ‘Or maybe in the restaurant.’

‘They have lifeguards in the restaurant. Wow!’ He raised one eyebrow. ‘Those soup bowls must be deeper than they look.’

He didn’t need any encouragement, she knew that, and she tried to stop herself from smiling but her mouth had a mind of its own and she felt it curve upwards despite her wishes.

‘I work as a waitress too. In the evenings.’

‘So when do you get time off?’

It was a simple question but he made it feel complicated. Flustered, she said, ‘Now. This is my day off.’ And instantly regretted it as his gold eyes fixed on her face, curious and assessing.

‘And you decided to spend it with me. I’m flattered.’

‘Don’t be,’ she said quickly, pressing the air conditioning button with fingers that were suddenly shaky and incompetent. ‘I’d do the same for anyone.’

That was true, she told herself firmly, only she could feel colour creeping over her cheeks and collarbone. Worse, she knew that Jack could see what she was feeling, but there was nothing she could do about that.

‘If you say so,’ he murmured. He shifted back against his seat, stretching out his legs. ‘So why do you have two jobs? Seems very greedy. I mean, I don’t even have one.’

There was an edge beneath the languid drawl she didn’t understand but then she didn’t want to understand Jack Walcott. Nor, more importantly, did he need to understand her.

She shrugged. ‘I have a lot of outgoings.’

That was the short answer. The longer, more humiliating version was that she had let an idiot be in charge of her money. But she wasn’t about to share that particular fact with Jack Walcott.

‘Why not focus on one job, and get promoted?’ He tipped his head back, letting the sun fall across his face. ‘Or you could marry the boss,’ he said, pushing her glasses back along his nose.

She glared at him. Spoken like a man who didn’t need to earn a living. ‘How wonderfully progressive of you. But I don’t want to marry my boss.’ She didn’t want to marry anyone. She’d made the same mistake twice. She didn’t need to do it again. ‘Besides, marriage only works for men.’

‘Not this man.’ His fingers tapped out a rhythm against the door seal. ‘I like my freedom.’

‘I’m sure you do. I’m just saying that statistically marriage is good for men. They live longer. And they earn more because people think they’re more dedicated, responsible, mature.’

Clearly they hadn’t met her ex-husbands, she thought, flipping the indicator stalk up with unnecessary force.

‘You mean, even when they’re none of those things?’

Jack was looking at her. His eyes were shielded by her sunglasses but she could feel his focus.

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