The Drakes of California
“You forget how well I know you,” Kathleen replied, nonplussed. “Plus, I know a tight mouth when I see one. Come on, darlin’. Out with it. Did one of those pieces of man candy get you all hot and bothered?”
Diamond didn’t respond.
Kathleen clapped her hands with glee. “That’s it! Which one? No, don’t tell me, let me guess. Is it that tall, strapping man with the tattoo across his chest?”
The “tall, strapping” description definitely fit Jackson, but Diamond didn’t remember a tattoo. “Step into my office,” she said over her shoulder to Kathleen as she left the common area to enter her more private domain. Maybe talking about this weird attraction would help her get rid of it.
Kathleen hurried behind her, closing Diamond’s office door once they were both inside. Her green eyes glittered as she took a seat in one of the tan suede chairs that framed the large ebony desk. Diamond walked behind it, threw down her purse and slouched into the large leather executive chair.
“First of all, nothing is wrong. And, for the record, you’re right. There are a lot of attractive men down there.”
“Anyone in particular catch your fancy?”
Diamond shrugged. “Not really.” Liar, liar, pants on fire. “I was given a partial tour by the supervisor while Taylor handled a call.”
“And…”
“And nothing, Kat. Jeez! He’s tall, but then so are several of the men. Plus, he was wearing a T-shirt.” Much to her chagrin. “I don’t remember a tattoo.”
“The one I’m talking about stands a head and shoulder above the rest. He’s a hunk of burning love,” Kathleen said dreamily. “I don’t see him every day, but the few times I have, he’s left quite an impression. Oh, to be young and single again. I bet his legs aren’t the only things that are long and strong about him.”
“Kathleen!”
“Oh, come now,” Kathleen said, her eyes still twinkling. “You don’t think I became a mother of five by singing ‘Yankee Doodle,’ do you?”
“Ha! I guess not. The man who showed me around is really tall.”
“Handsome?”
“He looks all right. His name is Jackson.”
“Dear, you’re trying really hard not to sound impressed, which means he must have knocked your socks off.” Kathleen leaned forward. “So when are you guys going out?”
“Out?”
Kathleen clucked. “Out…as in on a date? Really, Diamond, sometimes I wonder if you’re twenty-nine or only nine.”
“We’re not going out,” Diamond responded, ignoring the older woman’s jab. “I don’t date men from the workplace.”
“He’s hardly that,” Kathleen insisted. “He doesn’t work for Drake Wines, and he’s not in these offices. I think you should go out with him,” she went on, despite Diamond’s scowl. “If nothing else, it will rid you of the persnickety mood you’ve had of late. You know I love you, Diamond, but in the past few months, you haven’t been your charming, gracious self.”
“Careful, Kat,” Diamond drily replied, turning on her computer and reaching for the mouse. “You’re talking to the woman who signs your paychecks.”
“Technically, my paychecks are signed by your father and the CFO. But you’re the boss, so I’ll button my lip and head back to my desk.” Kathleen reached the door and turned. “But I still think you should go out with him. Who knows what that might lead to?” Her tinkling laughter followed her out of the room.
Diamond couldn’t help smiling as she clicked on her task bar and checked out what was left on the day’s agenda. Kathleen was Diamond’s assistant, but having worked in various capacities at the vineyard for twenty years, she was family, too. She’s right, Diamond acknowledged, as she scrolled down the page. I haven’t been too charming lately.
And Diamond knew why. It was the lack of testosterone in her life and, more specifically, in her bed—a problem she didn’t see being resolved anytime soon. Even as she shifted from her task bar to her calendar and the evening’s obligation—a fundraiser for at-risk youth sponsored by the San Diego Arts Association—she pondered her predicament and Kathleen’s earlier comment. How long was she going to let Benjamin Carter, the ex-fiancé who’d strung her along before breaking her heart, ruin her life?
Abruptly cutting off her computer, Diamond reached for her purse and strode toward the door. Kathleen was right. Benjamin’s refusal to marry her after their long engagement had affected her more than she dared admit. She had buried herself in work and put her life on hold because of it. She’d gone on only a couple dates in almost a year and was probably setting herself up to be an old maid. But no more! “It’s time to get back in the game!” she hissed. Maybe she’d meet someone tonight to play with.
Moments later, Diamond had lowered the top of her convertible and was zooming down the tree-lined roads of Drake Vineyard, soon to be known as Drake Wines Resort & Spa. As she neared the construction site, Jackson’s handsome face and knowing smile drifted into her mind. She remembered the feel of his hand on her waist, and her body reacted, muscles in certain nether regions clenching at the mere possibility of surrounding someone else’s, well, muscle. In spite of her determination not to do so, she eased off the gas, slowing down as her eyes scanned the sweaty bodies still hard at work under the dimming sun. She didn’t see him. She told herself that was a good thing and realized that lying to oneself was not cute.
Diamond reached for her phone and called her hair stylist, who was located in San Diego. “Lecia, it’s Diamond.”
“And let me guess,” Lecia said, as she sewed a track of hair into the head of her current client. “You need to see me ASAP, and I’m supposed to fit you in.”
Diamond laughed. “Something like that. But it’s an emergency. I need a makeover.”
“Oh, Lord. Sounds serious. What time can you be here?”
“In about an hour, hour and a half?”
“You’d better be glad I consider you a friend.”
“Plus I tip well.”
“Ha! That, too. Which I appreciate, since some of these fools hand me an extra dollar and call it a day.”
“You hook me up, and I’ll make it worth your while. See you soon.” Diamond ended the call and was soon speeding down the boulevard to the estate where the entire Drake family still lived. Initially, she’d not been looking forward to a night of gowns and tuxes and rich men trying to impress her with their portfolios. But a certain assistant had suggested change, and a certain well-built construction worker had whetted her appetite. Before the night was over, she decided, she’d find someone to get back in the game with, and try to forget about the man with whom she’d really like to score.
Chapter 6
Jackson pulled up to the valet and exited his latest toy. Next to women, cars were one of his favorite things to collect, and the newly purchased top-of-the-line Maserati GranTurismo fit him to a T. Like him, it was sleek, powerful and stood out in a crowd. He unfolded his tuxedo-clad six-foot-five-inch frame from the sports car, cutting a distinctive swath across the five-star hotel’s well-appointed lobby. Envious glances and flirty stares followed him as he walked to the meticulously landscaped garden, where gloved waiters carried trays of bubbly and hors d’oeuvres. Taking a flute from a passing waiter, he surveyed the grounds quickly filling up with the beautiful people: silk, diamonds, cloying perfume and smiles abounding. For a fleeting second the boy he used to be—poor, insecure, troubled—rose up within him. He wondered how these people would react if they knew where he’d grown up, the things he’d done to survive that childhood and where his mother now resided. A beautiful woman coming toward him distracted him from these uncomfortable thoughts. By the time she arrived at his side, the bravado Jackson had often called upon to mask his fears was firmly back in place.
“Jackson, thanks for accepting my invitation.” Her sparkling blue eyes drank him in much faster than he sipped his champagne. “You look delicious. I’m so glad you came.” She reached up and planted a soft kiss on his chin. “And unaccompanied no less,” she whispered seductively. “A virile man such as yourself shouldn’t spend the night alone.”
Jackson smiled at Erin Bridges, the daughter of a real-estate mogul with whom Jackson had partnered on occasion. No one could deny her classic beauty: shiny blond hair cut into a flattering asymmetrical bob, bright doe eyes framed by ridiculously long lashes and a pouty mouth covered with just the right amount of shimmering gloss. She’d definitely caught his eye when they met five years ago, but after realizing that the business relationship with her father would be an ongoing one with lucrative potential, Jackson had decided that they should not date. Again, his uncle’s warning to not use his workplace as a playground helped him put on the brakes. She’d been less than happy with his “let’s just be friends” suggestion. But what could she do?
“I see you’ve pulled off yet another top-notch event,” Jackson finally said, waving his hand in acknowledgment of the well-heeled crowd.
“It’s easy to do when you have friends in high places,” Erin responded. “Besides, this cause really feels good. With the fundraisers planned, we’ll be able to send at least twenty-five students to highly accredited colleges and, after graduation, through our partnerships with local businesses such as yours, help some of them get started in their professional careers. Oh, speaking of local businesses, someone has just come in that I want you to meet.”
Jackson turned to see to whom Erin referred and saw a vision that took his breath away. Diamond Drake lived up to her name, lighting up the courtyard as she waltzed in, the epitome of grace and beauty. Her dress was a simple one-shoulder design, the deep-red iridescent fabric perfectly complementing her sun-kissed sienna skin. Jackson’s eyes continued to travel upward, taking in a long neck and what? She cut her hair! The short hairdo fit her spunky personality, he immediately decided, noting that it emphasized her high cheekbones and almond-shaped eyes. Her makeup was simple, as was her jewelry. When you are a diamond, you don’t need to overaccessorize. His gait was strong and purposeful, his thoughts predatory, as he walked toward her.
* * *
Later, Diamond would pride herself on not having tripped in her four-inch heels as shock consumed her. What is he doing here? This was a five-thousand-dollar-per-person gathering of the county’s most elite players. How did a construction worker, even a foreman, wrangle an invite and then afford such an expensive one? And how did one transform from looking perfectly at home on a construction site, complete with sweaty T-shirt and dusty jeans, to looking as if he owned the world in a tux that emphasized his broad shoulders, narrow waist and long legs, and a stark white shirt that highlighted caramel skin? Diamond’s eyes narrowed as they finally settled on the woman walking beside Jackson, La Jolla’s premiere socialite, Erin Bridges. She felt as if she were looking at the answer to how Jackson got invited to the event and didn’t try and ignore the stab of jealousy that arose at the prospect that the construction site might not be the only place Jackson was making use of his skilled hands.
“Diamond, you look lovely!” Erin reached Diamond with arms outstretched and gave air kisses to both cheeks. “You cut your hair. I love it!”
“Decided it was time for a change,” Diamond said, running a hand through the shortened crop she was still getting used to, and feeling suddenly shy under Jackson’s intense gaze. With effort, she kept her eyes on Erin. “You look amazing. That dress is stunning.”
“Oh, just a little something I picked up last week in Italy. It’s a Roberto Cavalli original.”
“Roberto…of course.” Diamond’s statement was to Erin, but she’d lost the fight to keep her eyes off Jackson. Or was his name Magnet? By the way she was drawn to him, she couldn’t tell.
“Diamond, I’d like you to meet Jackson Wright, the ‘Boss’ of Boss Construction and philanthropist to a variety of worthwhile causes.”
Diamond’s eyes narrowed as realization dawned. Her father and brothers had always referred to the owner of the construction company as Boss, not Jackson. Diamond had assumed they were simply referring to him by his title and had never considered that the name of the company actually referred to a person. It had never mattered to her one way or the other—until now. “So…is your name Jackson or Boss?”
“Jackson, but most of my friends call me Boss.”
“Making sure that everyone knows you’re the head honcho?”
“That’s what my mom called me. She said that even in diapers I was pretty headstrong and was barking orders by the time I was crawling. The nickname stuck.” It was one of the few things from his childhood that Jackson had kept.
Diamond felt enough sparks were flying to send a shuttle to the moon. She stared at Jackson and barely noticed when a guest came over to steal Erin away. For a moment, she lost herself in the heat emanating from Jackson’s gaze and wondered how hot his kiss would feel. Diamond let the fire in her core rise to her brain. Earlier, Jackson had duped her. He hadn’t come clean about who he was at the job.
“Boss Wright?” she murmured, her face fixed in a look of subtle chagrin. “Owner of Boss Construction?” She realized that Jackson was still holding her hand and deftly pulled it away from him.
“At your service,” Jackson replied, nonplussed, reaching to grab her hand again.
“Stop it!” Diamond spat between clenched teeth, even as she worked to maintain a neutral expression for anyone watching. “You’ve got a lot of nerve standing here all nonchalant after lying to me this afternoon.”
“Lying? How so?”
“By not telling me who you were when showing me around the construction site.”
“Oh, you mean back at the vineyard where you were acting like a spoiled BAP, the Black American princess threatening to have me fired because I came on to you? I didn’t lie to you. There were simply some things that I didn’t reveal.”
Diamond cursed her body for reacting to this silkily drawled truth. “I specifically spoke about discussing you with the owner.”
“Which you may have known were one and the same had you not interrupted my introduction. Assuming that I was the supervisor is on you.”
“I’d say you were being uncooperative at best and deceptive at worst.”
“Well, baby,” Jackson said, the single glass of bubbly obscuring his common sense, the intense desire for her usurping the lack of confidence left over from his early years and pride developed in his later ones, “you’re getting ready to have a cause for rank insubordination because I’ve got to be honest. Before this night is over, I’d like to get real acquainted with those soft, luscious-looking lips of yours and find out if the rest of your body is as soft as your arm. How’s that sound?”
“It sounds like a man who’d like to get slapped,” Diamond retorted, even as the image she’d fought all afternoon—the one that had them skin to skin from head to toe—flashed in her mind. “It sounds like a cocky, arrogant jerk who has obviously gotten women to drop their panties way too easily.”
“Well, there is some truth to that.”
“I think I’ve heard enough.”
She got ready to walk away, but Jackson’s words stopped her. “Ask yourself why I’m so getting on your nerves, why you’ve been snapping at me since we’ve met. And don’t feed yourself the lame excuse that it’s because of not knowing who I was at the site.”
“Well, you should know about lame.”
“Wow, spoken like a princess reprimanding the help.” He continued despite her huff. “Maybe I should have come clean and told you I owned the company, but I’m glad I didn’t. My anonymity gave me the opportunity to see firsthand how you treat my men. And like I said this afternoon, you don’t have the right to talk down to them or anyone else.”
Did this fool just check me on how I handle my business on my property? “I’ll admit that your men have always been respectful, an area in which you could learn a thing or two. Like now, telling me how to act and what to say. Just who do you think you are?”
“A man who’s not afraid of your last name, that’s who,” Jackson replied. Mr. Bravado was obviously still riding shotgun. “And one who sees what he wants and goes after it.” Diamond got ready to interrupt him, but Jackson held up his hand and continued. “You’ve got quite the reputation among the men—powerful, no nonsense, untouchable. They say you don’t come to the site much, and when you do, you keep your distance. But I detect a fire underneath that cool exterior. We’re grown folk, Diamond, and I have no need to beat around the bush. I find you attractive as hell, and I want to get to know you better…a lot better. I think you want to get to know me, too. Am I right?”
Diamond’s chin took on its familiar tilt as she tried not to let Jackson’s words affect her. The fact of the matter was she was feeling him in more ways than one and not only that but she wanted him to feel her in more ways than one. He was a handsome, intelligent man who she’d bet her paycheck was an awesome lover. But after he’d sexed her real good, then what? And what about her rule of not dating within the workplace, not to mention the one about not having any more casual relationships with noncommittal men? If there was one thing Diamond could spot, it was a man with marital allergies. Her brothers Donovan and Dexter had shown her exactly what that looked like.
As if on cue, said brothers walked into the space and up to where she and Jackson were standing. A part of her was glad to see them as they’d provided an escape of sorts. But the other part knew that her reprieve was over. She’d avoided both her father and Donovan this afternoon, but she was in for a grilling later on tonight. “Hey, bro,” she said, reaching up to give Dexter a hug. “I didn’t think you were going to make it.”
“I just got in,” Dexter responded, eyeing Jackson as he gave his sister a hug.
“How was Baltimore?”
“Cool. Rainy.” Dexter took a step back. “Why are you so dressed up? And what happened to your hair?”
“Dressing up is normally required at a black-tie event,” Diamond sarcastically answered. She fingered her hair. “Do you like it?”
“Yeah, it looks good.” Dexter held up his fist to Jackson for a pound. “Hey, Boss.”
“Dexter,” Jackson responded, before turning to greet Donovan, as well. “Hey, Don. This is why I had to cut our meeting short, man. If I’d known you were coming here, I would have let you know.”
“Looks like there’s a few things I might need to know,” Donovan replied, before turning to Diamond. “I didn’t know you and Diamond were hanging out.”
“Just formally met her today, man. And now I see why y’all have been keeping her under wraps!”
“Yes, just how has that happened?” Diamond asked Donovan. “How is it that you, Dex and Dad have known Jackson ‘Boss’ Wright for a while now and I’d never met him before today?”
“No need,” Donovan said with a shrug. “You’d never been a part of the construction projects before, and most of our initial meetings took place at Boss’s office.” What Donovan didn’t share was that it was also to protect his baby sis from getting hurt. He knew that Diamond wanted to get married and knew that Jackson was a Casanova. Like oil and water—those two ingredients didn’t mix well. “Don’t let the smooth talk fool you, baby sis. This is a great businessman, but he doesn’t let the grass grow under his feet…if you know what I mean.”
“Don’t worry, Donovan. Our interaction is strictly business.”
Jackson chuckled but instead of responding to Diamond’s comment, still smiling, he addressed Donovan instead. “You’re being a bit hard on a brother, don’t you think?”
“Just keeping it real,” Donovan replied, his gruff words tempered by a smile of his own.
“Should Diamond grant me the pleasure of her extended company, I’ll be the perfect gentleman.”
Donovan eyed Jackson skeptically, even as he nodded at Erin, who was motioning for him from across the lawn to join the group she now entertained. “You do that,” he said, giving the construction owner a fist pound and then leaving the group.
Dexter smiled as a gorgeous Latina sidled up to him. “Hey, Maria,” he said, giving her a light kiss on the lips. “I think I’ll freshen up my drink and then we’ll take our seats. The concert is about to begin.”
“Shall we join them?” Jackson asked Diamond.
Diamond thought about sitting next to Jackson while listening to the sultry sounds of smooth jazz, feeling the breeze from the ocean and experiencing the accidental brushes of his fingers across her flaming skin. Not a good idea. “Thanks but I think I’ll network a bit more. Oh, and Jackson, I meant what I said to my brother. The interaction between us is to be strictly business. Have I made myself clear?”
Jackson slowly nodded. “Got it.” He stood there watching and appreciating her “business” as she walked across the lawn to join her friends.
Chapter 7
Diamond shifted in her seat, hoping that she didn’t look as unnerved as she felt. For the past thirty minutes, she could have sworn that she’d felt the heat of Jackson’s gaze on the nape of her neck. She’d known the moment he sat down directly behind her not because the woman next to him had immediately introduced herself and her husband but because there was a vibe, an energy, between them that alerted Diamond to whenever he was within touching distance. With every note that oozed from Paul Taylor’s saxophone, Diamond felt the heat in her body rise. She watched Paul’s nimble fingers as he keyed the melodious notes, but in her mind, Jackson’s hands were on her body, playing a song written for her alone.
“Do you want a drink?” Diamond asked her brother, right in the middle of Taylor’s solo.
Donovan looked at her questioningly. “You’re getting one right now?” he whispered.
Diamond nodded as she composed herself.
“I’ll have a beer.”
“I’ll be right back.”
She eased into the aisle and headed to the bar. Taking deep breaths, she willed her heart to stop its erratic pounding and for her body to behave. Before reaching the bar, she decided to take a quick stroll around the gardens, regain her poise, get the drinks and then take her seat once the song ended. The sun had set, and the night sky had come alive with thousands of stars surrounding a bright, full moon. Lamps were strategically placed throughout the garden, highlighting the various shrubs, flowers and other greenery. Diamond took the path nearest the bar and headed toward a fountain near the end of the garden’s east side.
Just before she got there, a hand reached out and grabbed her.
Diamond gasped, and in that moment, a tongue on a mission slipped into her open mouth. A strong arm wrapped itself around her waist, and another hand massaged the nape of her neck. The woodsy smell of Jackson’s cologne engulfed her, and even though her mind was telling her to pull back, slap his face and curse him out, her traitorous body was pressing against his, even as her tongue engaged in a languid duel. Before she knew what was happening, her arms had reached around to stroke his broad back, and she marveled at the power created by sinew and bone. Somewhere in her mind she felt one of his hands muss up her short do. Jackson moaned and deepened the kiss. His other hand traveled from her shoulder to the small of her back and lower still until it cupped her round, firm booty as if the most natural thing in the world to be doing on a night like this was to be ravished in a moonlit garden while jazz played in the background.
Jackson slowly raised his head and blazed a trail of kisses from her mouth to her neck and back to her temple. “I said I’d be a gentleman,” he whispered, even as he nipped her earlobe with tiny love bites, “so I should have asked to kiss you. But an apology at this point would be insincere. You taste way too good for me to feel sorry for what just happened.” Jackson ran a firm finger down Diamond’s arm. “May I kiss you again?” he asked. His voice was as soft as the kisses he’d rained down on her face. Her nod was almost imperceptible, but her acquiescence was all Jackson needed to raise the stakes. He pulled them deeper into the shadows, backed her against the ivy-covered brick wall and once again plundered her mouth with his tongue. His hips mirrored the movement of his tongue: slow, rhythmic circles as he thrust up against her.