The Sapphire Affair (Jewel #1)

He narrowed in on Eli’s car, parking outside the Royal Bank of the Caymans. Would it be a short trip or a longer one this time? Jake pulled over, too, watching Eli from behind his sunglasses as the man hopped out of his car and sauntered into the bank. Jake kept a reasonable distance and followed him inside this time.

A marble floor greeted visitors, and cool, perfectly modulated air pumped through the lobby. Tellers tended to customers behind tall oak counters, while bankers parked at desks worked on more complicated transactions. Eli ignored all of them, striding toward the back, where a man in a pinstriped suit greeted him and held out a hand to shake. The suited man opened the door, and Eli followed him through. Jake wandered casually in that direction, but a guard stood watch.

Staring intently in the distance.

Jake patted his pockets and took a gamble. “Ah hell,” he mumbled.

The guard looked up. “Can I help you with something, sir?”

“Crap. I wish. Unless you’ve got the spare key to my safe deposit box back there?” he asked in a lighthearted voice, pointing in the direction Eli had gone.

The guard smiled faintly. “No, sir.”

“I’ll be back, then. Must have left it on the darn counter. Need to get my baseball cards.”

“See you when you return.”

As Jake left the bank, he added up the details in his head. There was no definitive proof that Eli was adding gems to a stash in his safe deposit in the bank, or trading more in. There wasn’t proof of anything yet. But there was quite a bit of circumstantial evidence that Eli kept at least some jewels in his house. Seemed Steph had been right on that count with her first gut instinct that the gems were in his home.

Good thing he was working with the inside woman.

Working.

He repeated that word as he returned to his car.

Working. That’s what he was doing. Working. Not dreaming up new ways to make her cry out in pleasure.




Jake grabbed a cup of coffee from a street-side vendor outside the bank, chatting about the fishing weather these days as the guy poured the cup. During a conversation about marlins and groupers, Eli’s fiancée arrived, stepping out of a taxicab just as Eli left the bank fifteen minutes after he’d gone in. Eli walked over to Isla and wrapped her in an embrace that became a kiss. Then he squeezed her ass, smacked it, and tugged her close.

He draped an arm possessively around her and walked down the street.

A few blocks later they darted into a local realtor’s office.





CHAPTER EIGHTEEN


She met him at Happy Turtle Cove in the early evening. She’d been here already, mapping out a plan to take her group here in a few days. She’d wanted to visit the spot one more time before the tour, and she’d run into a few friends. Sandy had been here, prepping to kiteboard with Reid. She’d chatted with them for a bit, then told them she’d see them at the boat party later this week. She also spotted a big, burly guy with a snake tattoo on his arm. He was snoozing behind shades on a beach towel. The Caymans wasn’t a big place, so she’d figured he was her stepdad’s club manager and she’d meet him soon enough, since she hadn’t when she’d visited the club.

But everyone else fell from her mind as Jake walked toward her.

Time for several deep breaths. She tried to calm her rapidly beating heart. Her tap-dancing nerves. Her flip-flopping belly. But hormones fueled her still, those raging beasts that seemed to cannibalize every brain cell when he was near. Because . . . those broad shoulders. That sexy grin. Those green eyes. That hair. Oh Lord, that hair. How would it feel to slide her fingers through it as he moved over her? How would it feel to have him deep inside her? How would she like to rip off that blue T-shirt, and unzip his cargo shorts, and wrap her hands around him?

A ribbon of heat raced through her bloodstream, answering her. Amazing. Fucking amazing.

“Hey,” he said, then flashed a lopsided grin that made her want to kiss him again, though she knew that would lead to nothing but trouble for her heart.

“Hi,” she said, and wished she had pockets on this sundress so she could have something to do with her hands that were too eager. She laced her fingers together so she wouldn’t grab the man in a wildly inappropriate embrace.

“How was your day?” he asked, and she detected a note of nerves in his voice.

“Fine. You?”

“Good. Should we get you to dinner at Eli’s?” he asked quickly, gesturing to his car on the other side of the sand dunes. There was a strange awkwardness in his tone.

“Absolutely,” she said with a squeak.

He held out an arm, but not for her. More of a gesture for her to walk. OK, fine. If he wasn’t making contact, perhaps he regretted yesterday.

He cleared his throat.

Uh-oh.

“I was just thinking, we should go back to—”

“Yes. Absolutely. Just focus on the work,” she said, quickly rearranging her attitude in an instant, slipping on the play-it-cool one. While her heart ached the teeniest bit, her brain knew this was wise. She just wished she’d said it first.