Diamonds Are For Lovers. Yvonne Lindsay

truly, Quinn thought grimly. Howard’s wrath nearly sent him to the wall with his financiers. “He banned me from accessing the Blackstone mines. I had to borrow heavily to source the stones I needed offshore.”

      If it hadn’t been for one or two friends in high places—notably Sir John Knowles, owner of the diamond upstairs—Quinn’s fledgling business wouldn’t have survived.

      Dani whistled. “That must have hurt. The broker with no diamonds.”

      “It put me in a very bad situation,” he agreed.

      She glanced around the room, her eyes resting on a magenta orchid in the corner. “It doesn’t seem to have had any long-term consequences.”

      “No thanks to the Blackstones.”

      “Have you approached Ric or Ryan? They may be willing to ease the ban now.”

      Now that Howard was dead, Quinn thought scathingly. His dislike of the former head of Blackstone Diamonds wasn’t just business. Howard had made it personal. How ironic that he was sitting across an elegant table with his nemesis’s protégée. “I can manage without the precious Blackstone mines, thanks.”

      Dani’s gaze sharpened a little. “Forgive and forget, hey? The man’s dead.”

      He couldn’t forget. The slights in the papers. Door after door closing in his face. The old-boys banking networks, determined to pull him down. “It’s hard enough starting out without the most influential man in the business doing a number on you.”

      And all while he was barely keeping his head above water to cope with his wife’s terminal illness.

      And that’s where Howard’s vindictiveness really came into its own. Quinn could overlook the loss of business, the tearing down of his reputation, the condescending snubs by former backers. He would never forgive the look in Laura’s eyes when he couldn’t give her the one thing she wanted above all else.

      It never failed to surprise him how much it grated after all these years. “Howard Blackstone was a manipulative, vindictive bastard.”

      Dani blanched, and just for a moment, he felt a needle of sympathy. Was it possible that someone in this world mourned the man so many hated?

      “You know all about being vindictive, don’t you?” she asked tightly. “Wasn’t that what marking me down at the awards was about? Or the slagging off you gave me in various industry papers?” She drained her cup and banged it down on the saucer. “Maybe you and Howard aren’t so different after all.”

      “Maybe you just aren’t that good,” he suggested, eying her evenly.

      “If that’s so,” she snapped, “why am I here?”

      “I don’t know, Danielle.” He stressed the syllables of her name. “Haven’t you got work to do?”

      She glared, and in the candlelight, her hair and eyes crackled like embers. “Luckily, it’s a big house, Mr. Everard. Why don’t we keep our distance?”

      She shoved herself to her feet and stalked from the room.

       Three

      “Fine by me!”

      Dani slammed the door on his retort and stomped up the stairs, muttering to herself.

      Granted, Howard Blackstone had been no angel. His abrasive nature combined with immense wealth was the perfect enemy magnet, but that aside, he had provided a good life for her and her mother. Sonya and Dani Hammond were two of the very few people in this world who truly mourned him.

      She opened the workroom door and banged that, too. Bloody man!

      Sonya had moved in with Howard and her sister, Ursula, when she was twelve years old. After their firstborn was abducted, Ursula became depressed and took her own life. Howard was inconsolable so Sonya stayed on to look after her niece Kimberley and nephew Ryan. When she became pregnant, Howard persuaded her to remain and bring up her child with all the advantages his own children enjoyed. He paid for Dani’s education, and over the years, they’d forged quite an affectionate bond. Sometimes she thought he liked her better than he did his own children.

      Her mother had refuted that. “He loves Kim and Ryan fiercely. He enjoys your company because he has hopes for you rather than expectations of you.”

      People didn’t know the real Howard, Dani thought belligerently, tearing off her latest mishmash of a sketch. His faults were legion, but she and Sonya saw a side of him he didn’t show to many. They would always be grateful.

      By unspoken mutual consent, Dani and Quinn avoided each other the next day. She needed to pinpoint a design, but every time she looked at the diamond, her ideas changed. She held it up to the light, admiring the purity, depth and distribution of colour throughout. There was a cynical old saying popular in her trade: a polished diamond is only rough ruined. How she wished to have seen this beauty before it was cut.

      Dozens of pages littered the floor under the sketch pad as she pared back the initial outpouring of inspiration into a few shapes vaguely resembling a setting she might be able to work with. About the only thing she knew for sure was that the setting would be platinum because it complemented a diamond’s finest qualities so perfectly, especially fancy pinks and yellows. Dani intended the stone to be the star, not the setting.

      As the hours passed, ideas rushed through her mind, most disappearing a few seconds after their arrival. She played around on the software Quinn had provided, but the solution eluded her and the beautiful diamond taunted her on its velvet pillow. Finally she took it from the display box and slid down to the floor with it in her hand, loving the milky coolness of it in her palm.

      Quinn walked into the room with a plate in one hand and utensils and a wineglass in the other. He stared at her incredulously for a moment, then turned to set his load on the desk. Dani pressed back against the leg of the workbench, suddenly wondering what her hair looked like. Had she showered today or not …?

      She gazed at him, thinking how seriously appealing he was. He wore pleated charcoal chinos and a light polo shirt that accentuated the breadth of his shoulders and had her peeking at his strongly muscled arms. Boat shoes, no socks. His platinum Rolex flashed as he leaned forward to switch a lamp on.

      “What are you doing?” he asked, staring down at her sternly.

      “Thinking. What’s it look like?”

      After a pause, he nodded at the food he’d brought. “Eat.”

      “What time is it?” She raised her head to peer out the window. It was dark. Where had the day gone?

      “Eight.” He frowned at the sight of the uneaten sub he had brought up at lunch, the cold cup of coffee beside it.

      Still holding the diamond, she uncrossed her legs and rose, drawn by the smell of the food. A twinge in her stomach reminded her she’d had little to eat today, if anything. She replaced the diamond in its box and reached for the wineglass first.

      “How’s it going?”

      The wine was smooth. She swallowed and opened her mouth to answer but was hijacked by a huge yawn. “‘Kay.”

      It wasn’t okay yet, it was driving her nuts. Inspiration never came easy. She could spend hours or even days on an idea and toss it because of a niggling suspicion she had seen it somewhere. Originality was paramount.

      His large shoe ventured out to drag a ball of screwed-up paper toward him. “What time did you work till last night?”

      She shrugged, still smouldering a little from their altercation the night before. It would be better if he’d just leave her alone with her thoughts and her food.

      “Eating and sleeping will be tolerated on an occasional basis.”

      Had he made a joke? Emboldened, she moved closer to the food he’d brought, suddenly ravenous. “Thanks.” The wine