Once Upon A Diamond (Prince Uncharming Book 1) (4 page)

“Too often,” she murmured, an ache thrumming in her chest for him.

He shook his head, still not meeting her eyes. “You're a romantic?”

“Is that so bad?”

His chuckle was bitter and he gave no verbal answer. She sucked in a breath and then he glanced up. “I feel another story coming on,” he said.

By the time she'd exhaled, his focus had gone back to the paperwork. She crossed her arms as though the action could fend off his jaded reply. “You really can't put value on sentiment.”

“I want the story.” The way his lips turned up into a smirk made her eyes narrow.

A spurt of anger heated her belly. “Don't do that. Don't humor me.”

The smile faded and she regretted that. He pushed back the papers, unsigned, and met her stare. “We met at a book signing.”

The “we” didn't need to be explained. He was telling her about the woman who had broken him. Yvonne didn't dare move.

Greg said, “She locked eyes with my cousin first. I assumed that was a done deal. Many women do and that's how the story ends. He has charm, a way about him that makes even the smartest woman dumb.”

She frowned at that description. The moment she'd seen Greg standing at her counter, there was no way she could have focused on anyone else. He didn't demand attention. She hadn't picked up on the sadness until she looked into his eyes but there was just something about him, the way he stood straight and commanding that drew her full attention.

“And...” Yvonne urged in a soft tone because this was the story she had wanted. Greg would tell her more about himself in these few words than he would ever know. And she so needed to know.

Greg looked away for a moment. “He threw out one of his legendary lines. She laughed at him, not with. And that made me laugh, because like I said, most women fall for it. We got to talking. I asked her out. It wasn't a whirlwind courtship. She had...” He laughed, probably at some distant memory. “She had layers. She was beautiful. Then one day I woke up and was sure in my gut she was the one woman I should marry. I asked her , she said 'yes.' A few months down the line she admitted that maybe she should have said 'no.' She loved me, but we weren't right. Whatever the hell that means.”

She gasped, shocked. Yvonne didn't know that kind of rejection. All the fairy tales said you met the one person who changed your world and that was that. You got married and lived happily ever after.

“Ouch,” was the best she could say in face of his truth.

Greg didn't let his gaze fall from hers as he nodded. “So this ring has sat in my dresser for over a year. My clothes hide it well enough but every now and again I’d trip on it. My sentiments when I see this ring aren’t warm and fuzzy. A year from now, ten years from now, I'm not going to regret selling the damn thing.”

He was so...nice about it. Yvonne had a mean streak. That she could admit. “I would say burn it, but I kind of want to make this sale.”

Whatever sadness that had threatened to fill his eyes, disappeared. “I can admire that. You have your priorities straight.”

He braced his muscled forearms on the desk and went back to reading the contract. It wouldn't take him long to get through the papers. She mulled over his story as he did. His cousin may be a cad but Drew probably knew him better than most. Probably wanted his cousin to move on. So a suggestion from him probably wasn't bad.

Probably
. Some men thought sleeping with a string of women would fix any heartbreak. Good guy on the surface or not, Greg likely thought the same. She couldn't even attribute that to a man thing.

After many break ups, exactly the point where she hit mad instead of sad, she'd dressed up and gone out to party. If a handsome man flirted with her, she didn't discourage him.

But she'd never been so in love she looked at a man and thought, “he's my forever.” Ballet had always been more important. Then getting her business off the ground. Then she just had to accept loving someone that deeply included...a mess. Lives, emotions and family would have to intermingle.

What happened if things imploded? What happened if she let herself want someone, need someone with her everything? Her depression over Julliard would be a cake walk in comparison. She shifted in the chair and wished the thoughts away.

Greg flipped to the last page and signed. “Everything is spelled out pretty well. Who did you have put it together?”

Comfortable with the change, she answered, “I did. I had an agent up until five years ago and learned a thing or two about crafting contracts.”

“I'm impressed.”

Her stomach felt it was necessary to flip-flop at the praise. “I'm smart and pretty.”

He leaned back in his chair. “That suspiciously sounds like fishing for compliments.”

Her face heated. “No. I
know
I'm smart and pretty.”

He smiled in a way that let her know he'd told the truth about being a charming bastard. The lift of his lips mixed with the sultry light in his eyes sent her on a trip to Swoon City.

“Bluster,” he said.

“Only a little,” she confessed with a shrug. “Do you want to know the next step?”

He shook his head. “You call me when you've made the sale or if you couldn't.”

Yeah. That meant she wouldn't have an excuse to talk to him again. She sighed and rose from her chair. “Exactly.”

She didn't want to examine the emotion rolling in her gut at the realization. Instead she stood, ready to escort him out of the store. He remained seated, relaxed in the chair, watching her.

“Do you have any questions?” she asked, now standing maybe a foot or two away from him.

He rose from the chair and that foot shortened. “So this means I probably won't hear from you for a while.”

“Yes.” She'd picked up on cologne or maybe his aftershave that first day, but this close his musky scent seemed to sink into her. Woodsy, crisp and all man. The kind of scent that made her want to pace while trying to talk herself into behaving. Because really, she wanted to lick him just to see if he tasted as good as he smelled.

“Not exactly,” she corrected herself. “I tend to play hardball. I'll likely go a few rounds with local stores. If they don't want to ante up, I'll work my magic to get them to settle for a decent price instead of a really nice one. If I have to do the latter, I'll contact you first with the best offer. You can take it or encourage me to do my worst.”

He tilted his head as though some facet of her personality suddenly made sense. “It's how you get repeat business. You give them first crack and they return the favor in a way.”

“You understand.” And he did. That edgy restlessness made her hands itch to touch him. “What exactly do you do?”

“Financial analyst.”

“Really?” He didn't seem that straight-forward, but then again, she was a borderline hippie. No one would look at her and think former dancer, much less ballerina. Yet
he had
.

His shrug was slow but it fixed her attention on the broad expanse of his chest. He asked, “Exciting, aren't I?”

He spent his career making calculated guesses. Just another description for a gambler. A good one if she went by the original price of the engagement ring. He was solid, but had a wild streak. And he had the most soulful eyes. She wanted to get lost in them as he continued to hold her stare and steal her space.

She said, “Then I must be mellowing in my old age because I do find you interesting.”

The corner of his mouth crooked up and he shifted closer. “You should only worry if you start knitting in your spare time and collecting cats.”

“Noted.”

Now what since he hadn't moved? Touching him was probably the biggest kind of mistake she could make. In a few weeks, at the most, she'd deposit money from the ring's sale into a bank account. Any reason to stay in contact with him would vanish.

But that one story of the ring wasn't enough. She wanted to know who helped crease the laugh lines around his mouth and eyes. Was his ex the sole reason for the sadness she could see in his eyes? What other things did his cousin talk him into?

She wanted to know Gregory Woods.

She pressed her hand to his chest, over his heart and found the rapid beat. The nervous, excited thump matched hers. He reached up and clasped her hand. At first she thought he'd push her away. This was more than he wanted right now in his life. Or more than he wanted from her. He’d come after hours to sign paperwork, not get pawed at. Another rush of heat made her skin flush, but to her surprise and relief, he reached up with his other hand and clasped her nape.

He didn't utter a word before he crushed his mouth against hers. Something new and warm seemed to settle in her heart. That lasted until he slanted his head a bit more to the left and took the kiss deeper, letting his tongue feather over her bottom lip, coaxing her to open for him.

She parted her lips to take him in and know the taste of him. Yeah. This was a bad idea because she could get used to the taste of him filling her mouth and making her skin tight with need. Being kissed by him was like diving head first into the most decadent dessert. Her knees threatened to wobble and she did moan.

The hold he had on her neck loosened but only so that he could grasp her waist and pull her closer. After he did, Yvonne had no question how he felt about kissing her. The proof of his arousal rested along her stomach. Yup. Her knees were going to give soon, so she gripped the sleeves of his shirt and let herself go boneless.

He chuckled, tightening his hold on her before pulling that wonderful mouth of his away. “Yvonne, you asked for this.”

Her stomach and heart fluttered. “I was curious.”

He pushed her back until her butt settled onto her desk before kissing her again. If her dress hadn’t been in the way, things could have gone from hot to heavy...and thick. Greg used that mouth of his in ways she couldn't have imagined. His smile shouldn't have been all good ol' boy charm, but wicked and naughty and promising heat if anyone dared to kiss him back.

Then he whipped his tongue in and out of her mouth decimating any thoughts she had. Ever. It was the warmth, the wet, the expert way he explored her. By the time he pulled away, his breath labored, she'd decided his ex was an idiot.

Maybe Yvonne was one, too, because stopping this, whatever it was, at a kiss...She only hoped it wouldn't end messy.

“Yvonne,” he said again, his voice filled with gravel, making it sexy, “I pushed you onto the paperwork.”

The world wasn't steady and the temperature had risen to hot as hell. She glanced around her desk and could see he told the truth. The first few pages of their contract were bunched up beneath her butt.

“I can straighten that out. Nothing's ripped.”

How could he talk about the contract when he'd just kissed her shoes off, literally? At some point she’d come out of her high heels. Clearly, some part of her had prepared to get undressed.

He took her chin between his thumb and forefinger so their eyes could meet. “What do you want from me?” he asked and then shook his head. “If you're looking for something more—I'm not the man you want if you're looking to get married.”

Did she believe him? Yes. She wasn't the type to qualify or ignore the warnings from the men she dated. Men
could
change their minds. Most didn't. The good guys didn't lead a woman on. She may have only known Greg for a few days, but he was a good guy. Casting him as her Prince Charming, The One, was foolhardy...but Yvonne couldn't help but put her hand back over his heart. It raced.

She said, “Like I said, I was curious.”

His eyes narrowed. “So what excuse are we coming up with to see each other tomorrow?”

He'd asked the question in a serious tone. She mulled over her answer with the same weight of importance. “One of my professors at Berkeley met a woman at a coffee shop. For weeks they flirted with each other. Finally he had the balls to ask her out. He dressed up nice and went in for his usual morning coffee.”

He leaned forward and pressed his lips to her ear, whispering, “Another story.”

Her knees went weak again. “She wasn't there. He asked and she'd quit. Moved on. She was a college student. Turnover was crazy. The coffee place wasn't the same without her. Then one day he decided to get coffee on campus.”

He said, his mouth still at her ear, “And there she was.”

“Yes,” she answered in a breathless tone.

“Got it.” He framed her face with his hands and kissed her like no man ever had. He kissed her like he was trying to breathe through her.

His. Ex. Was. An. Idiot.

He pulled away for a third time and she had to brace her hands on her desk to stay upright. “See you around?” she asked, trying for cool and probably failing.

“If I'm meant to. Isn't that the point of your story?”

She smiled. “After kissing you, I just remembered that random story about one of my former professors. If you found meaning in it, that's all the better.”

He touched his lips with his two fingers. “Right. What's a good place to get coffee?”

“None, really. I wish there was a place like that here in town.”