Mister Diamond Read online

  “Okay, Nik—let’s find you the perfect ring.”

  He grunted in acknowledgement.

  “It could help if I knew a little more about your fiancé,” I suggested. “Does she normally wear a lot of jewelry?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Does she keep up with the latest trends or is she more classic when it comes to style?”

  He shifted uncomfortably. “I don’t know.”

  I chuckled. “She’s got fingers at least?”

  His hard, business-like exterior cracked for a moment and Nik smiled—a full, appreciative smile. “I presume so.”

  “Well, Nik, what do you make of the princess cut?” I gestured to the ring still in his palm. “It’s one of the most consistently shared styles on social media. I can’t tell you how many women have it pinned on their Pinterest boards.”

  “I don’t know what that means.” He chuckled. “But I guess I’ll take it.”

  “Excellent.” I grinned, and it wasn’t even because of the amazing commission I was about to make from one of the store’s most expensive rings.

  I rung up Nik’s sale and watched him leave the store forever, wondering how his proposal would go and if the marriage would be happier than his ring shopping. For his sake, I hoped so.

  For my sake, I kind of hoped he’d have a change of heart and wind up back in my store for another reason. And I didn’t even feel bad for it.

  It had been years since I’d last been with a man and there was a good reason for it. It was safer—and easier—to innocently fantasize about the sexy taken men who came into the shop than it would be to pine after a person or circumstance that would ultimately end in disaster.

  It was better this way.

  I banged through the door to my apartment, which always stuck and needed a little extra encouragement to open. My roommate and best friend Molly McKenzie stood at the sink just inside the door, washing her bras.

  “Hello dahling,” she greeted, extending her A to sound more posh. “Sell any fabulous diamonds today?”

  I jammed the door closed and threw my keys into the bowl. “A couple. It was pretty quiet day though.”

  “Oh, most unfortunate.” She pulled her bra from the sink and wrung it out.

  I chuckled and grabbed a cup from the cabinet to pour myself a glass of water. “Stop talking like that.”

  “Isn’t this how all your patrons converse?”

  “I swear to God, Molly...”

  She laughed and flicked water off her fingers toward my face. “Sorry. I’m on my third cup of coffee and I’m buzzing.”

  “I can see that.” I sat at the table and drank my water, watching her finish wringing out the rest of her bras and toss them over the radiator. “There was this one guy today that I can’t stop thinking about. Real business type, but I sensed he had this great sense of humor under it all.”

  Molly wiggled her eyebrows and tossed her mane of vibrant red hair over her shoulder. “Sexy, I presume?”

  “Of course. Super tall, hair so dark it was nearly black, these piercing dark brown eyes... He’s been on my mind all day.”

  “Unless he was buying something for his mother, you better get him off your mind.” She took the seat opposite me with a sly turn of her lips. “That being said, you could come to work with me tonight and have your pick of sexy businessmen. I could point out a few regulars I think you’d like.”

  Molly was, in my opinion, one of the best bartenders in town. I’d seen her at Helix slinging everything from perfectly poured pints to fiery cocktails, and a bar that caliber always attracted a trendy, urban clientele. I didn’t doubt for a second I could find some eligible bachelors sipping after work drinks.

  Too bad I wasn’t interested.

  “Nah.” I waved her off. “Not tonight.”

  “That’s what you say every time I ask you to come,” she replied with a huff. “What’s your deal?”

  “I don’t date. You know that. Not while I’m still figuring myself out.”

  “That doesn’t mean you can’t have a little fun.” She wiggled her eyebrows. “Come on, in the whole time we’ve known each other I don’t think I’ve ever seen you really let loose.”

  I shook my head. “I’m going to have a quiet night in,” I said. “Don’t worry about me. I’m exactly where I want to be.”

  “I just don’t get you,” she sighed.

  I didn’t get me either. I didn’t even know what it meant that I was still figuring myself out, but it was an easy cop out. Easier than admitting I was too scared, anyway.

  Molly left for work soon after and I fixed myself some dinner, eating in silence as I stared out our tiny kitchen window and tried not to think about Nik, the handsome but clueless groom-to-be who sauntered into my head early this afternoon and now refused to saunter out.

  After clearing up my dishes and giving the apartment a quick tidy, I decided to draw myself a bath in a desperate bid to relax. I felt jumpy, on edge, and I couldn’t say why. I lit some candles and killed the lights, sliding into the hot water and basking in the flickering dimness of the bathroom.

  My hand glided between my legs without even thinking, tracing along my seam absently. Once I realized what I was doing, I licked my lip and added a little pressure, teasing myself.

  Hey, what better way to relax, right?

  Just because I didn’t want to go out and have sex didn’t mean my body didn’t ache for release, and it had been awhile since I’d given it. I pressed the pad of my finger against the sensitive nub of my clit and closed my eyes, letting the sensations wash over me.

  For the first couple of minutes I thought of nothing, just the sparking pleasure between my legs. Then a familiar face flashed into my mind and I nearly moaned out loud.

  Dominik.

  Nik.

  The way he smiled, like it was a surprise to him as well. The way his hair curled over his forehead and his eyes flashed with darkness.

  I knew I shouldn’t be thinking about him, but I couldn’t help myself. Pressure built between my thighs and I imagined him there instead, kissing my folds with those generous lips, spearing his tongue into me. I arched back and could almost feel his hands on my breasts. Would he knead them or pinch? Hell, he looked more like a biter. He seemed composed and calm, but I bet he was an absolute animal in the bedroom.

  Demanding. Unforgiving. Taking what he wanted, when he wanted.

  A quiet moan slipped from my lips and I sank my other hand between my legs, inserting a finger that I wished desperately was Nik’s cock. He would fuck me slow at first, wanting to see the pleasure ripple over my face, but his primal instincts would take over and he’d turn merciless.

  I pictured him throwing me face down on the bed, wrenching my skirt over my hips and thrusting into me so harshly the pain would mingle with the pleasure and make my toes curl. I felt his hot breath on the back of my neck, the scrape of his teeth on my shoulder, my throat.

  Tension pooled in my belly and I rubbed harder. I imagined Nik with his pants around his ankles, ramming me from behind while he whispered dirty things in my ear, things that would make my body burn and suffer. And what sweet, sweet suffering.

  He’d push me to the brink and stop there, pulling out of me and leaving me panting against the sheets. I could feel his hands on my hips, turning me over so he could stare deep into my eyes as he teased my clit with the head of his cock. He would make me beg for it. And fuck, I would beg.

  I squeezed my eyes shut and begged him now, begged him to fill me again and let my orgasm take hold. His dark eyes were even darker than I remembered, all pupil and shadow. He would keep them on me as he sank into my heat once more, using slow, tantalizing strokes to bring me back to the edge.

  My fingers moved furiously over my clit. Water splashed over my nipples, swollen and aching. In my mind, Nik held my face by the chin and slammed into me in one smooth motion.

  I came apart, gasping for air. Steam filled my lungs and I suppressed a scream, letting
my mouth fall open soundlessly. Even the parts of me not submerged burned like fire licked under my skin, and it was several seconds before I even remembered where I was.

  When I did, I burned for another reason.

  Shame.

  Nik was a customer, one soon to have a fiancée, no less. It was completely inappropriate for me to be having such tawdry thoughts about him.

  Then again, I hadn’t had an orgasm that powerful in a long time.

  I smiled as I swirled my hands through the water. My dirty visions of Nik would be my little secret. It wasn’t like I would ever see him again anyway.

  Chapter 3

  Dominik

  My father’s harsh words still ringing in my head, I burst through the front door of Tiffany’s and made a beeline for the counter. The same girl from my first visit looked up at me in surprise, her emerald eyes wide and her cupid’s bow mouth parted slightly. I let my gaze fall from the creamy skin of her cheeks to the graceful curve of her waist. If I wasn’t quasi-engaged, she was exactly the type I’d take back to mine for a frustration fuck right now. Too bad my quasi-engagement was the frustration.

  “Hello again,” she said, regaining her composure with a smile.

  The smile cracked through some of my foul mood, but I was still pissed. I held my closed fist over the counter and opened, and a robin’s egg blue box tumbled out.

  “I need a new ring,” I said.

  Gemma’s brows creased. “I’m sorry to hear that. Was there a defect in this one?” She’d already picked up and opened the box, and was inspecting it for a defect that wasn’t there.

  “No.” I took a breath and tried to relax. “She didn’t like it.”

  “Oh.” Gemma blinked up at me. “I’m so sorry. This is such a popular style, I thought it would be a safe bet.”

  “It’s not your fault.”

  And whose fault was it? Fyodor was convinced it was mine, and had no problem telling me so. He’d ended our phone conversation twenty minutes ago by telling me to get my shit together and get a proper ring, one that Valentina would accept. I tried to tell him that she had no reason not to accept the one I’d sent her, but it was no good.

  Gemma’s mouth split into a grin. “We can fix this,” she said. “Some brides have a particular image in mind when they think of their engagement ring, but all that means is when you get her the right ring, she’ll love it even more.”

  “I have no idea what the woman wants.” I scrubbed my hand over my face and groaned.

  “Instead of a grouping, how about we just go with a solitaire?” she suggested, scurrying toward the end of the counter. “Simplicity often equals elegance.”

  I followed her and peered at the ring she pulled from the case. I’d never seen a rock so obnoxious as the one perched on the top of the white gold band she produced, and I wrinkled my nose at it without thinking.

  Gemma chuckled. “Not your style?”

  “I don’t know why it would be anybody’s style.” I gestured at the diamond. “Look at the arrogance of it.”

  Gemma’s features softened, and she placed the ring back in the case before catching my eye again. “Did she say why she didn’t like the ring?”

  I shook my head.

  “How did you propose, if you don’t mind me asking?”

  “Not well enough.” A caustic smile flitted over my lips and I pointed to a ring toward the back of the case with a solitaire diamond and a filigree band that spoke of old-world elegance. “Can I have a look at that one?”

  Gemma nodded and dutifully retrieved it for me, pointing out its features with an expert eye. I barely listened. All I could think about was how her mouth curved around the syllables like a lover, how her graceful fingers fluttered over the polished gold, how her eyelashes kissed her cheeks with every blink of her eyes. I wondered if Valentina would be as beautiful. Obviously, I held no hope she would be anywhere near as friendly.

  The dark mood I’d ridden into the shop slowly dispersed, until a genuine smile crept onto my face. Gemma’s cheeriness was infectious.

  “I’ll take it,” I said, dropping the ring into her palm.

  “Do you make all your decisions so resolutely, or just the ones involving jewelry?”

  “I’ve always followed my gut,” I explained. “Though in the case of engagement rings, it’s a case of knowing when I’m beaten.”

  Gemma rang up the exchange and I paid the difference on the new ring. “I think it’s great that you’re trying,” she said, handing me my bag. “I can see that you care, even if you don’t understand.”

  Her words resonated with me, even if she wasn’t totally correct. I cared about not having the ring thrown back in my face, but otherwise I couldn’t care two shits about my fiancée.

  “Thanks.” I took the bag and offered her a parting smile. I couldn’t bring myself to say that I hoped it would work, that I wouldn’t see her soon. So I left it at that and headed back out into the warm Spring afternoon.

  Back at my office, I tossed the bag onto my assistant Bernadette’s desk. Bernie looked up from her computer and met my eye.

  “Courier that to my beloved, if you will.” I didn’t bother to hide the distaste in my voice. Bernie knew just as well as I did how unwelcome this match was.

  “Right away.” She pulled the bag toward her. “Can I...?”

  I chuckled. “Yeah. Go ahead and have a look. Tell me what you think.”

  She pulled out the box and cracked it open, gasping. “Oh, Nik. It’s gorgeous.”

  “I’m glad you think so,” I muttered. “Let’s just hope she feels the same.”

  I headed into my office and closed the door behind me. Bernie was good about sensing my moods and wouldn’t allow anyone past my door for the rest of the day unless it was a life or death matter, and I was glad I could count on her. I reminded myself to give her another raise soon.

  Slumping behind my desk, I wriggled my phone free from my pocket and dialed Dex’s number.

  “Hello?” he answered groggily.

  I scowled. “Are you sleeping?”

  “Guilty.” His voice was thick and I heard him yawn. “Not on your couch though, so you can relax.”

  “Valentina rejected the ring. I just got back from exchanging it at Tiffany’s.”

  “If you needed any further sign that you shouldn’t go through with the engagement, you just got it,” he said.

  My scowl deepened and irritation made my brow twitch. Why could he not understand that it wasn’t that easy? Our lifestyles were different, sure, but I thought I’d outlined it for him clearly the last time we spoke.

  I decided seeking solace from him was pointless, but that wasn’t why I called.

  “I need to let off some steam tonight,” I told him. “I’m restless and I feel itchy in my own skin.”

  “I’m sure I can find you a cream for that.”

  I growled under my breath and Dexter burst into laughter. “Relax, Nikki, relax. I know exactly what you need. I’m headed to the grand opening of a new bar later that promises to be a playground for adults. That interest you?”

  Gemma’s emerald eyes and pouty mouth flicked through my mind and my cock twitched.

  “Fuck it. I’m not engaged yet.”

  I would be if she hadn’t rejected the ring, but as far as I was concerned without a ring on Valentina’s finger, I was a free man.

  “Excellent. Pick me around eleven, will you? And make sure the car’s stocked with champagne.”

  “You’re a bum.”

  “What was that about my bum?”

  I rolled my eyes.

  When Dexter said the place would be a playground for adults, I didn’t expect a literal playground. From the outside, the bar could have been any old industrial warehouse that lined the Meatpacking District. Inside, it was a jungle gym on steroids.

  “The best part about this place is that it’s going to be closed down in a couple of weeks,” Dex said into my ear, grabbing two glasses of champagne from a passing wa
itress. “The clock’s ticking until somebody breaks a leg.”

  “No kidding.” My eyes scanned lofty space, slipping from the artistic fusion of metal bars that patrons weaved in and out of, to the trampoline, to the platform at the far end of the space where a member of staff assisted a woman in a short party dress onto a rope swing.

  “The owner has been trying to get into the club scene for years,” Dex continued, nodding and smiling at some of the people we passed. “Every idea he’s tried has backfired for not being cutting edge enough to draw high profile interest. I call this an act of desperation.”

  A woman with fire engine red hair piled on top of her head and eyeliner so thick she resembled a raccoon sashayed up to Dex, resting her hand on his shoulder.

  “Dexter, I haven’t seen you since Bartholomew’s last exhibition,” she cooed.

  “I’ve been experimenting with less organic experiences,” he replied, pulling her closer. “But fuck if it isn’t good to see your face.”

  I had no idea what that meant, and suspected he didn’t either, but decided to leave them to it.

  I meandered through the crowd, catching eyes with several women as I passed. There was beauty of every kind here, and I knew there was no better place to be if I wanted a mindless fuck to help me forget about the banal future ahead of me, but none of the women held my interest.

  It didn’t make sense. I’d been sexually frustrated since this afternoon at just the thought of the pretty brunette who sold me my rings, but now I couldn’t find a woman I wanted to fuck?

  I went for another drink once mine was empty. I leaned against the bar and searched the crowd, but it wasn’t until the bartender placed my single malt scotch in front of me that I realized I was looking for a flash of green eyes.

  I drained my glass and left the bar to find Dexter. This endeavor clearly wasn’t working and it was time for me to go home.

  I found my friend in the ball pit, splashing around with the redheaded girl.

  “Hey!” I called.

  Dexter’s face lit up. “Nik! Join us.”