Diamonds & Desire: The Priceless Collection (2 page)

He noticed, eyes smiling.

She lifted her chin, curling her fingers tighter on the table’s edge, and could hear it creak. “Have you had a good at it now?”

“Oh, yes,” he said, then changed to a business-like tone. “What do you think my odds are of winning this?”

“Can’t say. It has a lot of admirers, though.”

He tucked his hands in his pockets. “Hmm. I like to take risks, but only when I know the outcome is heavily in my favor. I’m interested to know exactly what I’m bidding for.”

“Well, as I explained, it was created strictly for the event. A piece like this will be owned by one woman alone, and I doubt any woman wouldn’t want something no one else has. Also, the point is to help the children, right?”

“Of course,” he said with an inclination of his head.

“But if you want the necklace so badly, then I suggest you get ready to sweat when you write the check.”

He chuckled, stroking his clean-shaven jaw. “I’ve just got to have it...what was your name again? Jordana?”

She nodded, wondering when her nerves would frikkin’ settle down.

“Well, Jordana,” he drew out with a small smile. “My name is Logan Savant and once I’ve set myself on having something, it’s simply a matter of time before it’s mine.” A slow, sexy grin followed.

Though she was no expert in men, she knew a double meaning when she heard one. A professional flirt. In her experience, someone like him was attracted to femme fatales like her sister. Must be the dress. Or maybe the champagne he’s drinking. Probably a combination of the two.

She touched the diamonds, the bold attraction in his gaze curiously shutting down her shyness. Why not flirt back? “Are you thinking of wearing it to the opera or afternoon tea? Because I think it’s versatile enough to be worn just about anywhere.”

He laughed, showing off his thousand-watt smile, and a light dimple in his right cheek. More unfairness. “My thoughts exactly. Although, I have to express some concern…” He made a flippant circle around his face. “Yellow diamonds tend to wash out my skin tone.”

“Nonsense, all you need is the perfect outfit, matching shoes and, voila! Heads will turn when you walk in the room.”

“Ohh,” he breathed with exaggerated passion, and pressed a large hand to his chest. “A dream come true.”

It was Jordana’s turn to laugh. Holy smokes, he had enough charm to fill the building and spill into the street. Not to mention every time she saw that dimple, a galaxy of giddiness bloomed in her stomach, threatening to come out, giggles and all. He was too attractive for his own good. For her own good. “You should definitely do your damndest to be the winner of this necklace, Mr. Savant. As Joy Page said, ‘Dream, and give yourself permission to envision a you that you chose to be.’ And you can verify that quote too if you’d like.”

“Absolutely not. I wouldn’t dream of doubting you. That was great, by the way, what you did. Showing up that old smarty pants back there.”

“I wasn’t trying to show him up!”

“Sure you were.”

“I was simply correcting him. You were the one who looked it up and embarrassed him in front of everyone.”

He gave a helpless gesture, palms out. “I was defending you. How else could you prove you were right?”

“Well I appreciate the support.” A smile pulled her lips. “Do you always defend perfect strangers?”

“When they’re as beautiful as you? Without question.”

She arched a brow. “Nice line.”

“I think so, too.”

Fighting back another silly grin, she asserted, “I was being sarcastic.”

“No kidding. I also speak sarcasm. Where did you learn it?”

“On a farm with my grandfather. You?”

“Die Hard movies,” he answered in all seriousness. “Let’s just say I felt compelled to make sure he knew you were right. I’ll never let him live it down. From now on, when he gets lofty and starts talking about how well-read he is, I’ll be sure to remind him of tonight.” He jutted his chin to down and mocked his friend’s British accent. “Your opinions are so pedestrian, Savant! When I was your age, I didn’t have my numbers crunched for me by a computer, blah blah blah.” He switched to his natural voice. “Oh really, Lancaster? Remember the time you misquoted Oscar Wilde and looked like a bloody idiot in front of everyone? Hmm?”

Jordana tapped his lapel. “You’re cruel.”

“It goes both ways. I can only imagine what Lancaster says behind my back. I’m sure I’d be amused by it, though. He lived in England for eleven years and came back with an accent and a litany of pancake insults.”

“Pancake?”

He offered her his arm and she took it, and he drew her away. “Flimsy. Soft. Harmless. The last party we both attended, he called me a ‘bell end’ which, of course, I had to Google to know what the hell he was saying.”

“And it means?”

“Basically, he called me a dick.”

Her brows rose. “Ah. That’s not very nice.”

“The insult makes sense if you think about it. The British have such a knack for creative insults. It might not be the kind of thing you would shout in England, but here I could say it all day long.”

“I certainly won’t see a bell the same way again.”

“See? I taught you something. Now we’re both more well-rounded people. I can spit out a quick quote from Oscar, and you learned how to say dick in a whole new linguistic form.”

She noticed a few pairs of eyes casting her way as she laughed. Swallowing, she tried to regain her composure, and released his arm as they passed by the ballroom doors. “You have to stop making me laugh.”

“Why? Are you allergic to it?”

“Not that I’m aware of.”

“Then I’m not going to stop.” He paused, softening his tone. “I like your laugh.”

Her heart fluttered at his words, and she cleared her throat. “Thank you.”

Just then, a slim blond in a one-shouldered black dress floated to Logan’s side, and Jordana could hardly disguise the disappointment on her face as the woman’s hand slid around his bicep. “It’s time to go in, Logan. They’re opening the ballroom.”

He smiled at his companion—Oh God, his wife?—then shifted his eyes to Jordana once more. “Rebecca, this is Jordana. The necklace she’s wearing is going up for auction tonight. What do you think of it?”

Rebecca gave her fast once over, completely ignoring the Sigvy. A twitch in her lips said she didn’t think Jordana represented much of a competition to effect jealousy. “Hmm, it’s okay.”

“Only you could be blasé about diamonds.”

“Maybe it’s her. She doesn’t really pull them off,” she commented, speaking as though Jordana wasn’t standing right in front of her. “Oh, but I love your dress.”

“Thank you.” Time to go. Jordana wondered how a woman as frost bitten as her captured such a charismatic man like Logan. Probably with her size two body and a cache of family money. Jordana stole a quick glance to Logan’s left hand. Not married, but obviously taken by the possessiveness in Rebecca’s eyes. The flirtation was over. She didn’t belong in this elite group anyway. “Well, it was nice to meet you, Mr. Savant. Enjoy your evening and good luck at the auction.”

She felt his eyes on her back as he said, “Er, it was a pleasure…”

Later, after standing behind the side curtain so long her feet were numb, it was her turn to go on stage for the live auction. Palms dampening, she was sure she’d fall on her face before she made it to her designated spot. Somehow she managed to walk without turning an ankle. Hundreds of pairs of eyes were on her. Including Logan Savant’s, she supposed. She couldn’t see anything but a hot, bright spotlight, noticing a camera hovering nearby so everyone could see the jewelry on the projection screen.

The announcer began. “This lovely young lady is wearing a Charles Sigvy one-of-a-kind diamond piece. Donated by the local designer for tonight’s benefit. Can we zoom on this custom work of art please?” He waited for the camera to adjust. “Thank you. This captivating necklace features a sparkling array of round white and yellow diamonds. An extraordinary piece for any woman’s collection.” He tapped his gavel. “We’ll start the bidding at ten thousand.”

Quicker than Jordana could keep up with, the bidding continued with rapid succession. Her eyes widened as the price climbed higher and higher. Fifteen thousand. Twenty thousand. Thirty thousand. Jordana grinned, knowing she was helping to raise such a high sum for the charity supporting needy children.

“Sold! To you sir, for seventy-five thousand!”

Jordana clapped with the audience before turning off stage. The necklace was taken off her, carefully placed in its velvet box, and disappeared around the corner with security.

She started to make her way back to the volunteer’s room, waving at a couple of models who passed by. First thing she’d do when she got home was run a hot bath and soak her tootsies for a solid hour. Perhaps work on another page of her homemade children’s book. And maybe fantasize about Logan Savant. Okay, definitely fantasize about him.

With a smile, turning the corner, she bumped into a statue. Or more accurately and to her shock, the fantasy himself.

Logan flashed a wide smile. His warm palm grasped her elbow, his fingers grazing under her forearm, igniting a river of electricity on her skin. He held a shiny, black bag in his other hand. “Jordana. I was hoping I’d catch you.”

“Oh. Hello again.” Twice in one night? She looked up into those sexy blue eyes. The easy effect his grin had on her senses was seriously ridiculous. So was the fact he’d sought her out…alone, no blond attached to his side. If he was going to hit on her when he had a girlfriend, she’d set him straight in no time.

“Events like these can be pretty stale after you’ve been to one or two hundred,” he said. “You were the highlight of the cocktail hour.”

“I’m flattered.”

“And you’re beautiful,” he added, jerking his head to the ballroom. “Up there on stage. No man in the room could take his eyes off you. Especially me.”

Could she go one minute without blushing around this man? Still, she manage to hold her composure. “I think you mean the necklace. Every man knew any woman who received it would probably thank the winner all night long.”

His laugh tickled her ears. “Well then, I can’t wait to see what happens.” He held up the bag and it swung gently.

Her eyes widened. “You were the highest bidder?”

“Damn right I was. I told you I had to have it.”

He spent seventy-five thousand dollars just like that? “Your girlfriend is very lucky.”

“My what?” He quirked a brow. “Oh, you must mean Rebecca. That explains why you ditched me so fast. No, you have it all wrong. She’s just a friend. Since I didn’t have a date lined up and she wanted to come, it worked out.”

Not his wife, not his girlfriend. Surprise, surprise. “Sorry, I assumed from the way she glared at me, you belonged to her.”

“Ah. Don’t mind Rebecca, she can be a little snobby at times. Anyway, it’s easier to go with someone platonic. She can do her own thing at the party, and I can steal away to talk to the only woman I know to make Donald Lancaster speechless.”

Ah yes, Colonel Mustard. “Maybe I should have. It was a little rude, wasn’t it? I couldn’t help myself.”

He gazed at her softly, his voice lowering to a silken tone. “Not at all. And I’m glad you didn’t.”

Jordana had to swallow under the intensity of that stare.

“Is this what you do for a living?” he drawled. “Model jewelry, quote literature, and charm innocent men into bidding thousands of dollars on jewelry they can’t wear?”

“You’re an innocent man?” she teased. “I’m just filling in for my sister, who’s the real working model. She claimed she had an emergency so I raced down here expecting to see her bleeding or in handcuffs. Turns out, it wasn’t that serious, but she begged me to fill in. I borrowed a dress and here I am.” Breaking eye contact, she gave a light shake of her head with a smile. “I don’t even know why she couldn’t wait until the auction was over. Only that her boyfriend was involved and she had to go. She’s very dramatic when it comes to him.”

“I see. You sacrificed your Saturday night to help your sister. Now that’s loyalty.”

“No big deal. After all, I got to dress up and have some fun raising money for a good cause. Not exactly hard labor.”

He grinned. “And we met as a result.”

“We did.” His desire, however unfathomable, poured from his gaze. No doubt if he’d seen her in the leggings and hoodie, he would’ve never looked her way, but he was definitely looking at her now.

He took a step closer. “I want to see you again.”

“You do?” She craned her head to meet his eyes. “When?”

“Tonight. After the party. It ends at ten o’clock. I’ll make sure Rebecca gets home okay, then you and I can go out, wherever you choose.”

Was he kidding? She was too shocked to respond.

“Or stay in,” he added. “I’m good either way. But just so you know, I don’t put out that easily.”

She burst with laughter.

“Okay, I do. A bottle of wine, some poetry, and I can be a sure thing.”

“I don’t doubt that.”

“Are you speaking sarcasm again?” He took a step closer, and traced his fingers down her arm. “Say yes. I guarantee you won’t regret it.” At the drawn out silence, he searched her features. “What do you say?”

I can’t speak now that you’ve touched me again. She cleared her throat, meeting his smoldering gaze. “It’s just—I doubt I’m your type.”

“Type? We’re labeling now? Well, I don’t doubt you are at all,” he countered.

She swept a hand from her neck down. “What you see here is not really me. I don’t wear expensive dresses or go to parties where the lowest bid for the auction is a cool ten grand.”

“This is just a social obligation. We can make it as casual as you’d like. I can eat at a hot dog stand on the corner.”

“You don’t strike me as a man who eats hot dogs out of a cart.”

“I can be.” He cocked his head. “You’re married? You have a boyfriend? Wildly loyal to some drag-racing boy toy? God, I hope not.”

“Ha. No.” She cast her gaze down, reminded of her very single status. A few months ago, if her fiancé hadn’t dumped her, she never would’ve been in the position to flirt with Logan Savant. She would be well on her way to a wedding in the spring with a guy she felt safe and comfortable with. Instead, he abandoned her to go find his spiritual side overseas, leaving Jordana with a pile of credit debt, heartbreak, and questions of why she didn’t see it coming. “No husband, no boyfriend. I just don’t think we have much in common.”