Marrying the Enemy (11 page)

‘We’re wasting our time.’ The worry lines bracketing his mouth deepened as his lips compressed. ‘They’ll never accept me. They can’t see past my dad.’

His sigh held so much audible pain she slipped her hands around his neck and clung to him, afraid he’d bolt before she broke through his emotional barriers.

‘And I don’t blame them.’

He spoke so softly she barely caught the words as his head fell forward, his forehead resting on hers.

‘You’re nothing like him—’

‘How do you know? You haven’t seen him using people to get ahead. You haven’t seen him desperate to stay one step ahead of the game. You haven’t seem him repress his emotions and close off completely from people.’

He reared back, reaching up to unclasp her hands from around his neck. ‘What if I’ve got those tendencies?’ He thumped his chest. ‘In here?’

‘You haven’t—’

‘Really?’ He spat the word, his self derision chilling. ‘Because from where I’m standing, everything I just said could apply to me. Our marriage? I’m using you, desperate to get ahead, repressing my real emotions...’

He trailed off, his expression horror stricken, as if he’d said too much.

She wanted to ask him what he meant by ‘real emotions’. Dared she believe he was starting to feel something for her, something real, something tangible, something they could base a relationship on?

After only a few weeks, it seemed ludicrous. Unfathomable. So how could she explain the fact she was unwilling to walk away from this man for other reasons beyond saving Seaborn’s?

She’d pushed him to open up, now it was time for damage control.

‘I proposed to you, remember? I’m the one using you, using whatever means to get ahead in the jewellery business.’

He shook his head, his eyes wild. ‘What the hell are we doing, Ruby? This isn’t right.’

Her heart stopped. ‘Our marriage, you mean?’

She’d seen him many things—proud, arrogant, commanding. Defeated wasn’t one of them as he slumped against a nearby wall.

‘I’m sick of the lies.’

She only just caught his muttered ‘I’m exactly like my father after all.’

Darn, this was what happened when she delved into personal recesses best left unexplored.

Before he bailed on her, and she lost a husband and Seaborn’s before she’d had a chance to make it work, she did the only thing possible.

She grabbed his hand and tugged him towards the lifts.

‘Enough of the deep and meaningful stuff. Let’s go do what we do best.’

Thankfully, he didn’t have to be asked twice.

CHAPTER TWELVE

‘C
OME
back to bed.’

Ruby turned her back on the dazzling view of Melbourne’s city skyline from the floor to ceiling window and padded back towards Jax.

He was propped on an elbow, his chest bare, the top sheet draped provocatively low over his torso, and she wondered how she’d managed to tear herself away in the first place.

He’d been asleep after their frantic sex to banish the worries of the reception, but in the aftermath of their blissful encounter she couldn’t wipe out the events of the evening.

She couldn’t sleep, not when this pretend marriage was on the verge of falling apart.

She had to do something.

‘Cold?’ He ran a fingertip up her arm, lingering in the hollow of her elbow, tracing tiny zigzags that zapped her in a major way.

But she couldn’t afford to be distracted. Not when she had to come up with a solution.

Convince her social circle this marriage was real.

Gain acceptance for Jax.

Save Seaborn’s.

Three problems interlinked and she couldn’t solve one without the other.

‘No, I’m fine.’ She perched on the edge of the bed. ‘At least, I will be when I figure out what to do.’

‘About?’

‘Everything.’

Smart guy, she didn’t need to elaborate as he sat up and captured her hand.

‘We could cut our losses before this goes further.’

Her heart sank. She’d known that was what he’d wanted to do earlier yet she’d dragged him up here anyway, trying to obliterate their problems with mind-blowing sex.

Pretty stupid. Ignoring their problems wouldn’t make them vanish any more than wishing for a miracle to save Seaborn’s would.

‘That’s what you really want to do?’

He nodded, his penetrating gaze not leaving her. ‘Makes the most sense.’

Annoyed at his capitulation, she snatched her hand out of his. ‘So I lose Seaborn’s, you lose out on going global with your mine, and we look like a couple of A-grade idiots.’

She shook her head. ‘Wrong solution.’

‘What do you want me to do?’ He braced against the headboard, his expression thunderous. ‘I’d rather auction myself off at an outback bachelor bash for charity than face a roomful of those stuck-up jerks again.’

Despite her dire predicament, she couldn’t help but smile at the image of her gruff, moody husband standing in front of a crowd of rough ’n’ tough women eager to buy him.

‘This isn’t funny,’ he said, crossing his arms, impeding her view of his glorious chest.

‘No, it isn’t. Maybe I’ll have to volunteer for an auction too? Though who’d want a jewellery designer...’ She trailed off, struck by an idea so far out of left field she leapt off the bed.

‘What—?’

‘That’s it!’ She swooped down and planted a swift kiss on his lips, enjoying his wide-eyed shock. ‘You’re a genius.’

Some of his sternness faded. ‘I know that, but what’s got you so excited?’ He smirked. ‘Apart from me?’

She bopped him on the head. ‘Seaborn’s should have an auction. Loads of hype. Exclusive pieces only. The biggest jewellery auction Melbourne has ever seen.’

She paced, ideas peppering her with every step. ‘Using social media to build anticipation. Short lead-in time. Next week maybe? Great opportunity to pick up Seaborn signature pieces at a fair price. Need a stunning venue. Melbourne Town Hall maybe? Or—’

‘Whoa, slow down.’ He swung his legs over the side of the bed and she hoped to God that sheet wouldn’t slip. Last thing she needed now was the distraction. ‘Wouldn’t something like that take weeks to organise?’

She waved away his rationality. ‘I’ve got contacts. It can be done.’

She paced the suite, excitement making her skip every second step. ‘I can do this. Put Seaborn’s back on the jewellery map. Raise much-needed funds in the process.’

She snapped her fingers. ‘Why didn’t I think of this before?’

His mouth eased into a sexy grin that packed a wallop. ‘Because I was the one who inspired you.’

She made a sound like a wet balloon and he chuckled. ‘You made some smart-ass remark about outback auctions,
I
was the genius who came up with it.’

He patted the side of the bed. ‘Why doesn’t the resident genius get her cute butt back here and we can brainstorm some more?’

Thankful he’d moved past his funk—the one that had him threatening to walk out on this marriage before it had even begun—she bounced back to the bed and flung herself into his arms.

He tipped backwards with a grunt and she straddled him.

‘Want to see what other genius ideas I’m capable of coming up with?’

He didn’t have to be asked twice as he growled in pleasure and tugged her down.

‘You love being on top, don’t you?’ His warm breath fanned her ear, his lips toying with the lobe, and she wiggled, enjoying his tortured groan.

‘Being in control is good,’ she said, bracing over him, eager to lower herself onto him.

‘Tell me about it.’

He reversed their positions so fast her head spun. ‘There, that’s better, back on top where I belong.’

She swatted his chest. ‘Control freak.’

‘You love it when I’m commanding and forceful,’ he said, his hands starting at her shoulders and sweeping down, palming her breasts, circling her stomach, grinding her mound until she writhed, desperate for release.

‘Commanding. Forceful. Got it. Ooh...’ Heat streaked through her as he splayed her legs, dipped his head and tongued her until she almost passed out.

Her head thrashed from side to side, her fingers fisting in the sheets as he drove her closer to the brink with every sweep of his tongue, with every plunge of his fingers inside her.

She was mindless from the pleasure, the inner tension coiled until she couldn’t bear it. She reared up, bracing on her elbows to watch him drive her to the brink and beyond.

His gaze locked on hers as the tip of his tongue circled her clitoris for a final time and she came apart, screaming his name.

There was no smugness in his dark eyes, only satisfaction, and as he grabbed a pillow and slid it under her hips, she knew something important had just happened.

She’d never had a guy look at her the way Jax had just looked at her.

As if he could see right through to her very soul.

She should be terrified. Instead, with delicious aftershocks pulsating through her, all she could think was how connected she felt to him at that moment.

‘You still calling me a control freak?’ He knelt between her thighs, bronze, broad shouldered, magnificent.

Her pelvis arched in a purely reflex reaction. ‘Yeah, but the way you dish it out, you can control me any time.’

‘My pleasure.’ His eyes glittered with lust as he made quick work of protection and eased into her with a long, slow thrust.

Her insides clenched around him, welcoming, needy, missing him the moment he withdrew, desperate for more.

He obliged, gripping her hips and sliding into her again and again and again, each thrust accentuated by her elevated position with the pillow under her butt, each thrust driving her closer to the edge.

‘Faster,’ she urged, wrapping her legs around his waist, her hands gripping the headboard for leverage.

‘I’m the one in charge,’ he said, his wicked grin exacerbating her anticipation as he continued to slide in and out with torturous finesse.

‘Jax, please,’ she gritted out, her pelvis lifting clean off the pillow to meet him thrust for thrust, her inner tension clamouring for another release.

‘Seeing as you asked so nicely...’ He picked up the tempo, their bodies rocking in an ageless, erotic rhythm, the air punctuated with soft pants and longing groans as they crested the edge together and fell into blissful oblivion on the other side.

Jax collapsed on top of her and Ruby was only too happy to hold him close.

Yeah, something had definitely changed between them but right now, with her body sated and her mind foggy, she didn’t dare determine what it was.

* * *

‘That was some party.’

Ruby placed the loupe on the black velvet mat in front of her, not in the mood to discuss her wedding reception with her cousin but knowing Opal wouldn’t leave until she did.

She’d managed to hide away in her workshop all afternoon, part avoidance, part comfort. She needed a lot of comforting today.

‘Yeah, it went pretty well.’

Opal leaned against the door jamb and folded her arms. ‘Jax is smitten.’

She swallowed a snort. The only thing smiting Jax was his love of business.

‘Everyone was talking about how cosy you two looked on the dance floor.’ Opal paused, worrying her bottom lip. ‘Probably a good thing, because they spent the first half of the evening doubting the validity of your secret nuptials, but you had most of them swooning by the end of the night.’

Ruby shrugged. ‘I don’t really care what the snobs think, never have.’

A blatant lie. She cared. If the hobnobs didn’t accept her new husband and let him into their world to secure his business, he’d walk, and take her chance at saving Seaborn’s with him.

He’d renege on their deal, she had no doubt, if he didn’t get what he wanted out of it. He was that kind of guy: ruthless, heartless.

He’d been on the verge of it last night before she’d distracted him with her auction idea. And the phenomenal sex.

For that was all they had really. A marriage based on mutual monetary gain and a physical attraction.

She’d had a lapse in thinking she’d glimpsed more during their sex-capade, for Jax wouldn’t dare let his guard down and this morning he’d reverted back to cool and commanding.

He had no intention or interest in getting to know her beyond the superficial and while she should’ve been happy about it, she’d moved past delusional.

She should’ve known. She wasn’t the type to wake up next to a warm body after sharing her troubles with him, and remain immune.

Her fatal mistake had been telling him the truth this morning.

They’d been driving back from Crown Towers and he’d asked her how people had accepted their marriage.

She could’ve lied but she didn’t.

She’d been the brunt of a lie by omission—thanks to Sapphie keeping Mum’s confidence the last year—and it sucked.

Besides, considering Denver had embezzled millions from his friends, she’d hazard a guess Jax would’ve had a gutful of lies growing up too.

So she’d told him the truth.

How people were suspicious of their marriage motivation, how they were reluctant to trust him because of his father’s sins.

He’d taken it surprisingly well. Then again, it would’ve come as no shock, considering he’d been fobbed off repeatedly when he’d tried to set up vital business meetings.

By the time he’d dropped her off here, his expression had been as black as his mood.

Wait ’til he heard her news.

‘Want to talk about it?’

Ruby shook her head, wishing every emotion didn’t play out across her face like a feature movie.

‘Thanks, Opal, I appreciate the offer, but I’m too busy.’

She turned back to her workbench, hoping her cousin would get the hint. She didn’t.

Opal strolled across the small space to stand beside her. ‘What’re you working on?’

‘A canary diamond parure. I’ve finished the necklace, partially done the earrings, with the brooch and bracelet to go.’

Opal hooked the necklace, her favourite dog-collar style, and held it up to the light, the brilliant-cut diamonds refracting the light. ‘Wow, Rubes, you just get better and better.’

‘Would be better if I had a pre-order for it,’ she muttered, making a mental note to return the twelve phone messages Opal had left on her desk earlier.

It had been a long time since she’d received five phone calls a day, let alone twelve. She’d assumed it’d be the gossipmongers from last night wanting the low-down on her marriage, but what if they were orders?

Certainly wouldn’t be the social planner she’d met with this afternoon to plan the auction, the same one who had turned up his nose at her proposal.

‘Damn, I almost forgot.’ Opal replaced the necklace on the velvet and snapped her fingers. ‘You’ve been commissioned for a pink diamond engagement ring. White gold, fantasy cut, three carat.’

Ruby whistled. ‘Did you quote a price?’

Opal nodded, her grin superior. ‘Yep, and they didn’t baulk or quibble. Placed the order on the spot.’

‘Wow.’

Ironic, if she had to choose an engagement ring, she’d go for the same thing. She loved the fantasy cut, faceting stones using freeform angles where anything went. It freed her creativity in a way nothing else did, and to work on a pink diamond of that size with the option to do whatever she wanted... She could see the design in her mind’s eyes, combining a brilliant cut with something to maximise the stone’s natural fire.

A stone of exception clarity, minimal inclusions. Maybe a claw setting, white gold prongs gripping the stone without metal underneath to highlight the stone itself. Or perhaps a Tiffany setting, high six-pronged?

Opal laughed and tapped her on the shoulder. ‘I can see you’re already imagining what this ring looks like, so I’ll leave you to it.’

‘When do they need the ring by?’

Opal’s smiled faded. ‘Uh...pretty short timeline. I agreed to it because I know we need the work.’

‘How long?’

‘Two weeks?’

‘That’s ridiculous—’

‘Will it help if I burn the midnight oil alongside you? I’ll bring you coffee and muffins and those white-choc brownies you love.’

Ruby shouldn’t be complaining. The sale of this ring would take Seaborn’s one step further out of the red and heading towards the black.

‘Fine. Arrange a fitting.’

Opal shook her head. ‘No can do. The guy said it had to be a surprise. Gave me the lucky girl’s sizing, said that’d have to do.’

Ruby frowned. ‘You know I don’t like working on mega pieces like this without ensuring the sizing is right from the start.’

‘I told him, but the surprise was a deal-breaker...’

Stupid romantics. As long as this guy didn’t come whining to her when his bride-to-be didn’t like the design or the thing didn’t fit.