Diamonds (All that Glitters #1)(4)

“One eighty-six.” He looked over at her, impressed. “You know cars?”

“I know a thing or two,” she said, running her hand down the side of the car. She sank into the passenger seat and glanced over at him in wonder. “So, what do you do?”

He winced slightly and gave her an apologetic look.

Oh.

So, it’s like that? I’m not supposed to know any personal details about him?

That’s fine.

Whatever.

“Never mind,” she muttered. I’m not that kind of girl. Fuck!

“Sorry. The last woman who asked me that was a gold digger.”

He did look like he was sorry. But he had just compared her to a f*cking gold digger.

“And do you think I’m a gold digger just because I asked you about your job?”

He shrugged. “You can never be too careful.”

She glared at him. If she was going to share information about herself, then she could dress him down with how ludicrous it was to call her a gold digger. Her father was a multimillion-dollar director, her mother was an actress, and even her grandmother had been a successful actress. She would never need to stoop to such degrading extremes for money. She lived in Bel Air and went to school in Beverly Hills.

Enough said.

“I’m not a f*cking gold digger. I just like your car.”

“Okay.”

“And anyway you wouldn’t be driving it if you didn’t want people to admire it.”

He shrugged. “Fair enough.”

The drive to his place didn’t take as long as she had anticipated. With him driving a car like this, she had expected him to be in a gated community in the Hills. She knew the area they were in though. It was full of wealthy apartments and condominiums for people who worked in the city and didn’t want to deal with traffic. Her father preferred to stay at a suite at the Beverly Wilshire, or the like, when he had business in the city, but he had colleagues who would get similar apartments.

They took the elevator to the top floor and walked into a large suite apartment. It was immaculately decorated but didn’t have a scrap of personal touch to it. No pictures of the wife he was separated from. Nothing to suggest he was anything but an affluent businessman.

“Drink?” he offered.

“How about a name?”

He sent her a curious look and then walked toward a bar on the other side of the room. He poured two glasses of scotch from a crystal decanter and brought one over to her. She weighed it in her hands and nearly smiled in delight at the quality.

“Have you ever done this before?”

She stared straight ahead. “Done what?”

He came up behind her and spoke softly into her ear, “Been with a stranger.”

She shivered. “Yes.”

It was kind of the truth. She had fooled around with guys she had met only a handful of times at parties, but she had never allowed them to go further than that.

“I like the mystery of not knowing.” He trailed his hand down her arm.

She had to do everything not to shiver all over again. “So…you do this often?” She didn’t keep the bite out of her voice. He laughed melodically behind her and nipped at her neck. “Is this why you’re separated?”

He sighed. “No. That’s…complicated.” He clearly didn’t want to talk about it. “But to answer your first question, I don’t do this often. And I’ve certainly never met anyone as beautiful as you.”

“Flattery doesn’t work,” she said.

“Oh?” His hand trailed down the gold zipper of her form-fitting dress. He stopped right before it reached her ass and then splayed his hand out across her lower back. “It’s hardly flattery when it’s the truth.”

“A name.”

“Any name?”

She turned around to face him and stared up into his intense dark eyes. What secrets is he hiding? Could it possibly be as many as I am keeping?

She felt it in the pit of her stomach that somehow he felt as empty as she did. She walked through life, surrounded by a sea of blindingly happy people. Life had been laid out before them, and they didn’t have a care in the world.

But when she looked up at him, the emptiness that had consumed her after her parents’ divorce, maybe even before that, seemed to find a twin.

“Just a name. It can’t be that hard.” She breathed out slowly in anticipation. “I’m Bri.”

With the nickname, she could at least keep him from figuring out that she was Bryna Turner. There weren’t many Brynas in Hollywood, even fewer pronounced Brihn-uh. She wasn’t ready for him to know that name, not when it could lead him back to the fact that she was in high school.

He mulled over the name for a second before sticking his hand out and responding, “Jude.”

“WHAT’S GOING ON in that pretty little head of yours?” He took a drink of his scotch. His eyes stared straight through her.

“Just admiring your taste in scotch.”

Bryna distracted herself from that stare by taking a sip of her drink. Single malt, undeniably smooth, and utterly delicious. She did not need this to feel more confident. She was not nervous. In fact, she wanted this.

She was Bryna Turner. Nothing could break her stride.

His lips quirked up. “You know one of the first things I noticed about you?”