скачать книгу бесплатно
“Returning when?”
“Either the evening of the last meeting or, if it’s a dinner meeting, the next day’s first flight.” Jackson placed his iPad aside and walked over to a drafting table.
“So that’s it?”
“What else is there? You already know to book me at the Ritz-Carlton Chicago, rent the car from—”
“Not the trip, Boss. I’m talking about the letter.”
“What about it?”
“How long are you going to let these threats come before you do something about it?”
“What do you propose I do?”
Marissa worked hard not to let the exasperation she felt come out in her voice. “Call the police, hire an investigator, I don’t know…but something!” So much for masking frustration. Even a blind man could have seen her chagrin.
Jackson noted the fear in Marissa’s eyes. He didn’t share it, but he didn’t blame her. The first letter had arrived approximately two months ago, right after he’d ended a short-term affair. To say that the woman had been less than pleased was putting it mildly. She’d all but told him—in fact, she’d actually told him—that he’d regret the day he let her go. At first, he’d thought the letters were from her. But then again, it could be a former worker or subcontractor. He’d had to fire a few bad apples over the years. Maybe someone was still smarting from their termination—or being left off a job. He’d even considered the competition he’d beat out for the past few contracts. While the idea seemed highly unlikely, the construction business was a very competitive one. Boss Construction had landed several sweet deals in the past five years, outmaneuvering some pretty heavy hitters along the way. When billions of dollars were at stake and the national economy still shaky at best, who knew what companies were capable of? And finally there was Marissa’s observation: that the letters began arriving shortly after he’d been featured in Black Enterprise magazine. The article, not to mention the accompanying photos, had resulted in a deluge of extra publicity—and fan mail. Maybe someone from his past had read it. Maybe someone from the life and the lifestyle he’d worked so hard to leave behind was trying to drag him back into it. But he wondered who would want to do that. And why? He’d left his old life more than a decade ago. Jackson wasn’t so much concerned for himself as he was for those around him. For the first time, he fully acknowledged the potential extent of the threats. Damage could not only be done to him but to anyone in his offices. Marissa was right. It was time to take action.
“Call Abe,” Jackson said, removing his jacket as he walked toward the walk-in closet at the back of the room. Abe Swartz was not only Jackson’s attorney but a longtime friend. “Tell him we need a private investigator.”
“Should I tell him why?” Marissa asked.
“Yes.”
A moment later, Jackson stepped out of his office dressed in jeans, a T-shirt and work boots.
Marissa smiled as she eyed her supervisor’s confident strides. She knew this routine. Jackson played the tough guy, and he was a typical alpha male. But he also had a huge heart, one that worried about those around him, those for whom he felt personally responsible. The anonymous threats were bothering him more than he let on. “Going to burn off some nervous energy?”
Jackson stopped at the outer office door, his hand on the knob. “Nervous? Do I look nervous? I’m going to engage in one of my favorite pastimes…working alongside my men.”
Chapter 3
Man candy. These were the words that came to mind as soon as she saw him. They’d exited a small building and now stood outside. Who is he? quickly followed that thought. As Diamond and the interior-design team had walked the floors of what would become the freestanding wine shop, she’d casually eyed the hardworking men. A couple she’d seen were buffed and toned, but others had average bodies and equally average looks. One or two had smiled and waved, but none had dared approach her. She’d smiled when she saw one worker nudge another after he’d surreptitiously winked at her. She figured her brothers had been their usually overprotective selves, warning the men to stay away from their little sister—no matter that she was the middle child or that said “little” sister stood five foot nine in stocking feet, with a full Beyoncé-like build and curves in all the right places. Growing up, she’d gone toe-to-toe with her brothers more than once, and until height and muscle replaced scraped knees and baby teeth, she’d pretty much held her own. Yet when it came to her and the opposite sex, the Drake line of defense was legendary. Every man she’d dated since the age of sixteen had come under intense and biased scrutiny. But she wasn’t interested in dating.
No interest. Too busy. I’m hardly even aware of these sweaty, shirtless, sexy men. Or of the gorgeous man now eyeing her openly. Yeah. Right. And Mona Lisa was a man.
“Jackson Wright,” Taylor said, when she noticed her last two sentences spoken to Diamond had gone unheard. There was a reason Taylor Stevens was one of the country’s top interior designers. She had an uncanny eye for detail that missed nothing.
“I’m sorry?”
“The man you’re totally aware of while trying hard to act as though you’re not noticing him? His name is Jackson Wright.”
Diamond tried for a quick recovery. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“If you mean you don’t know about the stone foyer I was speaking of, you’re right. Or the major design change I just mentioned. You haven’t heard a word I’ve said. But don’t worry. It’s totally understandable. The first time I saw him my reaction was the same. But fair warning. I’ve heard that he’s known for leaving women speechless and taking their breath away…among other things.”
Other things like what? Heart, soul, virginity? Diamond did not voice these questions. She didn’t want to appear interested in something that for her held absolutely no interest. Like human gods and whatnot. Diamond’s appearances in and around the construction site had been rare. But one thing was for sure: she’d never seen this god, uh, guy before. He had a face—not to mention a body—that one would not forget.
She shifted her eyes away from the tall, commanding stranger. It was the only way she could refocus on the task at hand. What is he…six-three, six-four? She frowned, surprised that her thoughts had not shifted along with her body. So much for out of sight, out of mind. In less than two minutes, this man had gotten under her skin, and truth be told…Diamond wanted to get under him.
This surprised her. Diamond Nicole Drake was a strong, powerful woman, healthy enough but not normally given to forceful, almost primal, sexual urges. She knew how to focus; discombobulated would rarely if ever be used to describe her. As a high-powered executive in the multimillion-dollar dynasty her dad had created, she was a woman used to being in control and demanding respect. Well, she wanted to demand something, all right, and didn’t care if it seemed the least bit disrespectful: a little rendezvous with Mr. Muscles. Private meeting. After hours. She’d even pay overtime.
Get it together, sistah! Why was she acting like she’d never seen a handsome man before? She had three of those in her immediate family. She’d grown up with fine men and dated them, too. Something about this construction worker unnerved her, and she wasn’t exactly sure how she felt about it. What she did know for sure was that nothing was going to take her focus off of making Drake Wines the chic, upscale resort she’d envisioned. And speaking of visions, the one just over Taylor’s shoulder was exactly what Diamond needed to bring her mind back to the singularly important task at hand—work.
With eyes still on the scene across what would become the resort courtyard, Diamond spoke to Taylor. “I’ll be right back.” Her long strides quickly ate up the distance between her and the group of men lounging on the ground. One was playing a video game, another two were checking out a sports magazine while a fourth was busy texting away. While still a couple yards away, she demanded, “What’s going on here?” The men looked up, but before any of them could speak she looked at her watch and continued. “It’s two o’clock in the afternoon, way past lunchtime. And you’re reading magazines and playing video games?” She pushed her sunglasses from her face to the top of her head. “Really? Are you serious?”
“Diamond, we—”
“Do I know you?” Diamond asked the man who’d been texting on his cell phone. “Because in the workplace, unless otherwise specifically indicated, I am addressed as Ms. Drake.”
Mr. Sports Illustrated tried next. “Ms. Drake, we—”
She held up her hand, deflecting further comment. “Never mind with the excuses. Where is your boss?”
Mr. Video Game pointed behind her. “He’s right there.”
Diamond turned, took one step and ran into a wall—otherwise known as the chest of Jackson Wright.
“Whoa!” Jackson reached out to steady a stumbling Diamond.
“Aw!” Diamond fell into Jackson’s arms. Is it me, or did the earth just quake?
Later, Diamond would wonder about the tangible jolt of electricity that raced up her spine before coursing through her nether parts. But she gave no thought to that as she quickly put distance between herself and Jackson.
“Is there a problem?” Jackson asked, removing the large hand from around the soft arm he’d just steadied and crossing his arms over a massive chest.
“I’d say that’s obvious,” Diamond answered, crossing her arms, as well. “Your men are slacking on the job, and that is totally unacceptable.”
“My men,” Jackson began, his voice low and firm, “are on their lunch hour.”
Diamond raised a skeptical brow. “At two in the afternoon?”
“That’s right. We knew that Taylor would be conducting a walk-through and wanted to get to a certain point in the work before we stopped. And since these men will also be working past their usual cutoff time, this later lunch will help them get through what for some will be a twelve-hour day.” Diamond’s chin rose a notch as she continued to look at one of the most amazing examples of mankind she’d ever seen in life.
“They work very hard.” Jackson’s eyes narrowed as he awaited an answer—correction: an apology.
Diamond offered a different point of view. “How hard they’ve worked will be determined during the walk-through. And late lunch or not, playing video games and reading magazines on the job is not a good look.”
“With all due respect, when on their lunch hour, my men can do whatever they want as long as it’s legal.”
When it came to the vineyard, it was a rare moment that someone challenged Diamond unless their last name was Drake. And when it came to nerve, Diamond realized that the man standing in front of her had plenty of it. And so did she, which was why he was going to get a serious piece of her mind. But realizing there was an avidly interested audience listening on, she decided now was not the time. Taking a deep, calming breath, she responded, “You may be over these men, but I am over this project. My name is—”
“I know who you are, Ms. Drake. And I also know California labor laws. That’s part of my job.” He extended his hand. “I’m Jackson Wright. The—”
“I know who you are,” Diamond interrupted, paying him back for not letting her finish. She knew it was childish, unprofessional and something she’d probably not even do with her irksome brothers, but she seemed unable to stop this man from pushing her buttons. “You’re the supervisor. Listen, I need to walk the site, but I’d like for you to call my assistant and set up a time to meet as soon as possible. There are some things we need to discuss.”
Diamond started to walk around Jackson, but he fell into step beside her. “We’ll make the appointment, but I’d actually like to handle the first part of the walk-through.”
Diamond stopped. “Why?”
“To explain some of the technical aspects of the electrical installations, as well as share some thoughts I have for the restaurant and lounge atriums.”
The last thing Diamond wanted was to spend additional time with Jackson Wright. His authoritative audacity intrigued her even as it irritated her. He had her thinking and feeling things she’d locked down deep.
And then fate intervened.
Chapter 4
Taylor walked up to where Jackson and Diamond stood, her face a mask of worry as she talked into her cell. “Hold on,” she said into the phone before looking at Diamond. “This is my assistant designer with a crazy emergency. Can you give me ten minutes to deal with this before we begin?”
“No problem,” Jackson said, even though he hadn’t been the one addressed. “I’ll show Ms. Drake around.”
Diamond was two seconds from going off on this presumptuous jerk, but her professional persona appeared unruffled. She turned to Taylor. “No worries, Taylor. Join us when you’re done.”
She really doesn’t know who I am. This was Jackson’s thought as they walked toward the second largest building in the new architectural scheme. For now, Jackson felt it unimportant to enlighten her. Strange things often happened when women found out he was the owner of Boss Construction: visions of wedding bells and baby booties often began to dance in their heads. Too bad he wasn’t the marrying kind, because worse things could happen than having this feisty beauty in bed every night. But having her there for a night, a week, a few months even? It was a possibility, even with her headstrong personality. She was almost worth potentially losing a client over, but his uncle John had taught him nothing if not this one thing about business: don’t play where you eat.
And then he went on flirting as if he’d never known Uncle John. “I’ve been involved in this project from the beginning, pretty lady, and would love to show you around. Let’s start at the heart of the construction.” Without waiting for an answer, he gently captured Diamond’s elbow and steered her toward the large structure that when completed would be Temecula wine country’s newest hotel. The restaurant, bar, lounge, gift store and retail offices would make up the ground floor.
Diamond ignored both the flirtatious comment and the shiver that ran down her spine at Jackson’s touch. Instead, she lifted her chin and called on the age-old strength that was the Drake resolve: the power that had allowed her great-great-grandfather to not only participate in the Gold Rush but to become wealthy because of it; that had helped her great-grandfather stand his ground and keep hundreds of acres of land when those on both sides of the law tried to steal it from him; that had given her grandfather the foresight to turn many of those acres into top-quality, grape-producing vineyards; and that had guided her father’s vision into what was now the Drake dynasty—an immensely profitable, award-winning vineyard that was the envy of winemakers from Italy to France and Spain to Northern California. He’s just a man, flesh and blood. His presence is affecting me this way only because I’m sex-deprived, Diamond thought, rationalizing the crazy attraction she was feeling for the man walking beside her. That reality—not his good looks, bulging muscles or the way his butt fills out a pair of jeans—is why Jackson Wright is affecting me so. She shifted the purse that was over her left shoulder, deftly removing her skin from his touch.
Beside her, Jackson’s thoughts followed a similar path…the one involving butts and bodies, that is. He marveled at the magnetism between them, thinking of how quickly he could palm the booty that had grabbed his attention as soon as Diamond had turned to speak with the designer. It was her perfectly curved derriere that had caused him to cut off his foreman in midsentence and make a beeline for the attractive woman across the way. Unfortunately, what he’d heard coming out of her mouth as she addressed the workers wasn’t nearly as attractive as her round backside. But Jackson wasn’t deterred. He could handle a strong woman because he was a strong man. And once he got her in bed, he determined, he’d show her a different kind of power altogether.
“Hold on, let me get you a hard-on, I mean, a hard hat. Hat,” he emphasized before quickly walking away. He walked toward a group of men huddled over a floor plan laid out on a truck hood. Diamond pondered how to deal with her uncanny attraction to someone she’d obviously be working with from here on out, even as she noticed how the men seemed to stand at attention as Jackson approached. They listened intently as he spoke with them. Then one of them reached into a crate and pulled out a hard hat. Jackson nodded his thanks and returned to Diamond’s side.
“You seem to command a lot of respect,” Diamond said as they continued walking toward the tall building. “Are you the supervisor or the foreman?”
“I’m in charge” was Jackson’s noncommittal answer. “Put this on,” he continued as they stepped inside the massive doorway and into a large, airy foyer.
“Is this really necessary? Most of the foundation and walks look almost complete.”
“But they’re not. Besides, everybody on-site wears a hard hat. That’s the rule.”
“You’re not wearing one,” Diamond responded sarcastically.
Jackson winked, blessing her with a smile. “I’m a rule breaker.”
Diamond ignored the squiggle that went directly through her core in no time flat and refused to acknowledge the long, curly lashes that framed the dark brown eye that had winked at her, or the straight white teeth behind thick, cushy lips. She thought of those lips touching hers and used unresolved anger to push desire away. “We need to get something straight,” she said, stopping as soon as they were out of sight of the men. “Don’t ever question my word in front of your workers. And don’t ever speak to me again in a tone of disrespect.”
“Respect is earned,” Jackson instantly retorted, rising up to his full six feet five inches. “And it’s reciprocal. You respect me and my men, and we’ll respect you.”
“I beg your pardon?” Diamond was incredulous.
“You don’t have to beg, Diamond. Just listen.” His tone was so authoritative that she stopped talking in spite of herself. “The guys out there are men, not boys. This is work, not school. They were on their lunch hour, not recess. When they tried to explain this, you shut them up with a wave of your hand. Now, I don’t know how you do it in the executive offices, but out here that’s not how we get down.” He stared at her without flinching, his eyes cool, unblinking.
Diamond stared back—and blinked first. “Perhaps I did jump to conclusions. But with the kind of money we’re spending, we have the right to expect hard work and get it.”
“You are getting what you’re paying for,” Jackson said, his tone softer as he once again touched Diamond’s arm and guided her farther inside the structure. “And more. Come on in, and you’ll see what I mean.”
They walked through the foyer and into what would become the restaurant. “This is gorgeous,” she gushed, shifting her eyes and thoughts from the brawn beside her to the beauty of the building, and once again removed her arm from his touch.
“Yes,” Jackson replied, eyeing Diamond. “It is.”
Diamond ignored the obvious come-on and stepped inside the main dining area. “The natural light from those large windows makes this space seem even bigger.” Her tone was sharp, almost curt, and strictly business. “But they’re going to allow in a lot of heat, as well. It gets very hot here in the summer, especially August and September. Even with stellar air-conditioning that might be a problem.”
“These are special windows,” Jackson explained, relaxing as he settled into his element. “They become tinted in extreme sunlight and temper the heat. Diners will still be able to take in the magnificent view yet not experience discomfort due to extreme heat or cold. The heating and cooling system that we’ve installed is state-of-the-art and will continually adjust to maintain whatever temperature is programmed into the computer. And these,” Jackson continued, running his hands along the smooth, stone walls, “will also serve to both keep out the cold and…bring in the heat.” Jackson made no move to hide his desire as his gaze openly raked Diamond’s physique.
Diamond spun around, her chin lifting along with her ire. “Are you always this impertinent when speaking to a client? Or have you forgotten that that is who I am, a client, not some piece of meat to ogle like a rabid dog!”
Bow wow wow, yippee yo, yippee yay, baby! Her haughty nature turned him on, not off, and stimulated that part of him that liked a good challenge. He raised a brow as he stared back at her, noting how her ample chest heaved with her deep, calming breaths. He wanted to experience this spunkiness in a totally different way. Jackson’s resolve to do so strengthened, even as his tactics changed. “I’m sorry. You’re right. I’m out of line. But you’re a very beautiful, desirable woman. I’d have to be blind not to find you attractive and dead not to react. It was just a little harmless flirtation, but again, I apologize.”
“How harmless would it be if I reported you to the owner? I am here in a professional capacity, and I expect to be treated in a professional manner. Is that understood?”
“Completely,” Jackson responded. Still, his eyes smoldered as he answered, and his wide-legged, crossed-arms stance suggested that he wasn’t in the least bit afraid of being reprimanded. “Shall we continue, or would you prefer to do the tour with someone less intimidating?”
Diamond was not known for being a neck-rolling, hand-on-hip kind of sistah, but his comment almost provoked both actions. “What did you say?”
Throwing her off guard by changing courses yet again, Jackson reverted to a trait that more than once had saved his life—bravado. “You heard me. You’re as attracted to me as I am to you. And that attraction, not my flirtation, is what’s upsetting you.”
“You have got to be kidding,” Diamond countered, less angry with his insubordination than the fact that he’d hit the nail on the proverbial head. “Obviously someone has told you that you’re God’s gift to women…and you believed them.”
Jackson’s grin was cocky yet genuine. “I’ve been considered a present a time or two.”
“Well, the only thing that’s a wrap right now is this conversation. You might want to brush off your résumé because after I have a little chat with the owner you’ll probably be unemployed.” Diamond turned and headed for the door.
“Wait,” Jackson said, reaching out and stopping her. She looked down at the hand squeezing her arm and up into pleading eyes. “Please,” he continued, releasing her, while imagining the confusion and laughter that would ensue among his men if she went out there demanding to speak to the owner. “I promise to behave.” Now it was Diamond’s turn to cross her arms. Her look showed that she didn’t believe him. “I need this job,” he finished.
“Then you need to climb out of your Neanderthal cave and realize that the days of women’s butts being patted in the workplace and sexual innuendo being the standard are long gone.”
“Got it.”
“I hope you do. Because one more ill-mannered remark and you’re history.”
“I’ll be the perfect gentleman from here on out.”
“See that you do.” With that, Diamond turned and headed back through what would eventually be the dining room and into the future top-of-the-line kitchen. Jackson answered her questions, professionally and knowledgeably, showing a strong command of the entire project as they moved from the restaurant to the gift shop, then down the hall to the retail offices. Finally, they crossed the lobby and entered the lounge that was situated across from the restaurant. They crossed the Plexiglas-covered dance floor, part of which would house an aquarium, to an expansive DJ booth—one of the few parts of the room that looked completed. Diamond walked up to a large control board. “What’s all this?” she asked.
“Magic,” Jackson simply replied. “This system allows the controller to create whatever atmosphere that’s desired, whether its disco, blue light in the basement, rave, holiday.”
Diamond lightly ran her hands over the knobs. “Looks complicated.”
“It is.” Jackson closed the distance between them. “May I?” he asked, stepping up to the controls and directly beside Diamond. She nodded and took a step away from him. “I was a DJ back in my college days. And a bit of a geek.”
Diamond said nothing, although she thought that “geek” and “Jackson” in the same sentence sounded like bad English.
“This controls the lighting,” he began, his voice the epitome of expertise. “See how it goes from bright to dim? And we can also adjust the colors, bounce them off the walls, ceiling, floors or a combination of the three.” Diamond watched as Jackson’s large, tapered fingers deftly moved from one button to the next. “There are currently eight thousand songs programmed into this computer,” he continued, taking a step toward Diamond to punch a button in front of her. “Check this out.” Jackson leaned forward and unconsciously placed a hand on her waist. “I’m sorry,” he said, quickly removing it. Diamond immediately missed his touch. He turned on a computer, entered a few commands, and within seconds a list of music genres filled the screen. “The sound system is incredible. What type of music do you like?”
“All kinds,” Diamond replied. Jackson clicked on a link and began scrolling through songs. “Especially upbeat,” she quickly added. The lights were dim, and the last thing Diamond needed was a love song to conjure up images of a certain male body, sans clothing, hard and ready for love.
