The Sapphire Affair (Jewel #1)(37)

She nodded, then lowered her voice to a whispered warning. “But just work. No funny stuff.”

“No funny stuff,” he said, agreeing to the necessary rule. Though shucking off the desire he felt for her was no easy task. Hell, it was maddening lust that had raged inside of him when he spotted her on the beach. But that had to end. “I’m not suggesting we f*ck. I’m suggesting we track down ten million dollars in stolen diamonds and return them to their rightful owners—the Eli Fund and its middle-America customers. And if we can’t do that, we get as much intel on the diamonds as we can. If we work together, we can get the job done faster, cleaner, and be done with each other sooner.”

She pointed at him. “Let’s start planning now. But nothing else. Got it?”

“You mean, no more rubbing up against my stuffed socks?” he asked drily.

“And no more ripping my clothes off on the beach.”

He set down his fork and held out a hand to shake. “Partners.”

“Platonic partners,” she added.

“Platonic partners,” he repeated as they shook across the cake. He could do this. He could absolutely keep his hands off her, no problem. “Let’s have some cake and work on our plan. To prove we can just eat cake and work together.”

“Instead of trying to gobble each other up?”

“Gobbling? We were gobbling?”

“That’s what Marie said it looked like at the Pink Pelican.”

He took a forkful of the cake. Soft and spongy and delicious. “Funny. I wouldn’t have called it gobbling when I kissed you so hard you melted in my arms.”

She rolled her eyes. “What would you have called it?”

He leaned closer and lowered his voice. “Devouring. Kissing you was like a sweet devouring.”





CHAPTER FOURTEEN


She’d planned for this contingency.

While Steph was not a clubber, she’d anticipated needing to walk through the doors of Sapphire on this trip. She’d packed accordingly, and the slinky black dress hugged her hips and boosted her breasts, leaving little to the imagination. That was the point of the Little Black Dress in a woman’s wardrobe, even though 99 percent of Steph’s closet consisted of shorts, bikinis, and tank tops. But the dress helped her to blend in once inside the glittery, sparkling blue club that pulsed with music, liquor, and dark lights.

The beefy security guard lifted the velvet rope for her, ushering her inside.

“Welcome to Sapphire, Ms. Anderson,” the guard said.

“Thank you so much.”

She’d opted to enter as a VIP. If Eli was offering special treatment, there was no reason not to take it. Jake had made a great point that she couldn’t entirely slip through town unknown, so it was better to use her access to her advantage.

Their advantage now.

So weird that last night she’d kissed the man like there was no tomorrow, and tonight they were hands-off partners. After lunch, she’d called Andrew, and he’d confirmed that Jake was his man, so that made her feel better about partnering up with him. Besides, she was pretty sure she needed him, and he’d made a good pitch that they could crack this “case” much faster together. Though she was entering the club solo, she wasn’t alone. Jake had arrived earlier, texting her that he was here.

A chestnut-haired beauty with a curvy figure joined Steph at the back door. “I’m Clarissa. I’m the assistant manager. Ferdinand is tied up, but I would love to show you around,” the woman said, and she shot a bright, white-toothed smile at Steph. The woman had the skin tone of a local, and Steph briefly rewound to Devon’s comments about Eli bringing many jobs to the island. Maybe Clarissa had benefitted from his supposed largesse? A bead of frustration wormed through her. It was irksome that Eli could still manage to do some good, even if he was doing it with someone else’s money.

Steph shook Clarissa’s hand. “So great to meet you. I’m excited to see the club.”

“Let me give you a quick tour, and then we’ll make sure you can be up front when Jane performs.”

With a hand on her lower back, Clarissa guided Steph through the club. Though it didn’t take any special insight to figure out the long mirrored bar was, indeed, the bar, or that the black hardwood floors were, in fact, the dance floor, the VIP treatment was welcome when Clarissa plowed through the crowds on the winding staircase that led to the second level. A balcony wrapped around all four sides of the dance floor up top, giving a perfect view of the crowds below.

Including Jake.

He leaned casually against the bar, a glass of what looked to be Scotch in his hand. No Tommy Bahama shirt tonight. He wore a black T-shirt that showed off his toned, muscular arms and a pair of dark blue jeans. Simple, yet totally hot, even from a distance. She made eye contact, but that was all. That moment was enough for him to walk away from the bar.

On cue.

“Eli loves to watch the crowds from here,” Clarissa said, gesturing to the throngs below—young women in tight dresses and guys in shorts and short-sleeve shirts. “You can just feel the energy radiate, can’t you?” Clarissa said, inhaling as if she were drawing in that very energy.

“Oh yes, absolutely.”

“And,” Clarissa continued, pointing a French-manicured nail toward the ceiling, “We have a dozen disco balls. They just make the whole place light up, don’t they?”