The Sapphire Affair (Jewel #1)

Isla’s eyes lit up and she crossed her fingers. “I’m hoping and praying the deal goes through. Madeline is my realtor, so I have high hopes. And when it does, I should be able to expand my gallery and showcase even more world-class art.”


“Oh, won’t that just be divine!” Steph declared, the bubbles buoying her as she mentally patted herself on the back for reeling in that bit of intel about their real-estate ventures. Jake would be impressed. Sexy, smart, hands-off Jake, who was waiting patiently in her Jeep.

“Yes. I do hope so. I’ve sold several paintings recently from an artist named Lynx who has such a brilliant concept of what the world can be.”

“How so?” Steph asked, eyes pinned on Isla.

“He believes in simplicity. That the world and its challenges can be reduced to geometric shapes. Eli and I so agree with him. He’s on a retreat in California to meditate on his newest series.”

Ah, so that explained the art in the club. Steph reached for her glass, downing the rest of it. “That must be where Eli is tonight. At the gallery,” Steph said, casting the bait in the water once more.

Isla waved a hand dismissively. “Oh, he got called away into the club. Had to check on a security issue there. You can never be too careful, you know.”

Steph’s ears pricked. Isla was like a blessed font of information. “Of course. One must always be safe. Can’t skimp on security.”

Isla patted Steph on the knee. “He’ll be back. He won’t stay away for long, knowing I’m doing some shopping tonight for new friends,” Isla said, waggling her well-groomed eyebrows at the array of vibrators.

She coughed. Lunch was definitely making a return trip. “Excuse me for a minute. I need the ladies’ room.”

“Just head down the hall,” Isla said, gesturing grandly, the ring on her right hand sparkling as she pointed.

Steph wandered past the kitchen, glancing behind her to make sure the coast was clear, then into the long hallway. Like a true Nancy Drew, she hunted around, scanning for any hidden doorways, secret passageways, or for art that might house a safe. The walls were lined with framed images of shapes—it was an homage to basic geometry with paintings of squares, circles, and trapezoids, similar to the club. But they were miniature—a few inches wide by a few inches high, too small to hide a safe. Crap. She really wanted to find a possible location for diamonds.

Now, let’s see. If she were a safe, where would she be? She tapped her fingers against her chin as she peered around. Taking quick steps, she hurried down the hall when someone opened a door.




The safe was small, hidden on a bookshelf behind a series of coffee-table photograph books of remote island locations. It took all of two minutes and twelve seconds to crack. Jake held his breath as he gingerly opened the small metal door. His heart beat loudly against his rib cage and that dangerous thing known as hope dared to surface inside him. What a thrill that would be to find a velvet pouch full of the money—in the form of diamonds—that Eli stole from Bob in Middle America.

He patted around the safe and found a passport.

OK, fine. Safes were excellent places to store important identification. He stuck his hand in farther, and holy smokes. That was what Eli had in his safe?




Her pulse spiked as she bumped into another woman in the hall. The brunette sex-toy mistress.

“Oh hi, Steph,” the woman said. “I was just getting some more goodies from my car. I didn’t expect them to sell so quickly. But I can’t complain.”

“Oh well, who doesn’t need to buy a dildo?” Steph joked as her cheeks burned bright red.

“I do hope you’ll get something. And as the daughter of the house I’ll happily give you a discount.”

Steph shook her head. “Stepdaughter. And I’m all good. Really. Bought a few dozen butterflies last week at a clearance sale, so I’m good to go,” she said, then pointed to the bathroom door. “I’m just going to pop into the restroom.”

Once inside, she did her best to take a while, washing her hands and applying some hand lotion when she was through. That should buy her some time to have the hallway to herself. But when she left, the woman was there, waiting to see her back to the party.

“Here,” the woman said, reaching into the box and taking out a black velvet bag. “Just take it. It’s on me.”

Steph shook her head. “Oh no. I can’t.”

“Please. It would make me happy to give you a gift.”

Steph parted her lips to protest, but the woman was insistent, staring intently at her over her glasses. “Thank you.”

“The pleasure is all mine. By the way, I’m Monica. I hope you enjoy your new gift. Let’s go back to the party,” she said, and nudged Steph gently with her elbow, guiding her back into the cackling fest of buzzed, horny women. So much for safe hunting. Monica had safe-blocked her.