Gold - Linde K. A. - Страница 6

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She brushed past the guard and into the large Tiffany Blue-and-white room. She marveled at the glass counters and all the sparkling jewels. Her heart fluttered. The diamonds called to her. She breezed past the engagement rings and went straight to The Atlas Collection.

Her eyes were immediately drawn to a pair of gold Atlas hoops with diamonds. She had gotten the ones without diamonds this summer in Paris, but she had been kicking herself for not getting the ones with diamonds, too. She needed them.

“Good choice.”

Bryna startled. She hadn’t realized anyone had walked up to her while she was salivating over the earrings.

She faced the stranger, and her heart stuttered. Oh, yes. So much yes.

“Well, I have impeccable taste,” she drawled.

He smiled. “I can see that.”

He was perfect. Older than even Jude or maybe the same age. Mid to late thirties and utterly delectable. High cheekbones, full lips, chiseled strong jaw, and gleaming light-brown eyes. What she noticed next was just as important—an indulgent custom suit that fit him like a second skin. With that kind of cut and quality, it had to be something straight out of London’s Savile Row. A fine suit had all the same necessary characteristics as a diamond, and both should be worn as often as possible.

She shifted her Louis Vuitton bag to her other arm and faced him head-on. “It appears I’m not the only one with good taste.” She wet her lips.

“You can never go wrong with diamonds.”

She completely agreed. “You think so?” she asked, playing coy.

“Absolutely.”

“And what exactly are you shopping for?” She was mesmerized by his cool exterior.

Their conversation was intense, and they had barely shared more than two-dozen words. He had a commanding presence with such little effort.

The man leaned in slightly. “Just browsing.”

He looked her directly in the eyes, and she got the impression he considered her to be merchandise.

If the Harry Winston diamonds around her neck were any indication, she could be bought.

“I would recommend anything in Tiffany’s,” she managed to get out.

An easy smile crossed his face, and she wondered exactly what he was thinking.

“Thank you. I’m sure I’ll find something that I like.”

Goose bumps broke out on her skin. She needed to get herself under control. This man was too much. She hadn’t even checked if he was married, and it scared her a bit to know that she wouldn’t care.

He had done this to her. It was a slippery slope, and she couldn’t get her footing.

She needed to make up her mind about what to do. She had thrown that drink in Thomas’s face at the bar because he had played the game wrong. Do I want to play at all?

Her only requirement was complete control. She needed it to breathe, to survive. But under the right circumstances, she would let it happen. And this seemed to be the right circumstances so far. She would let the ball roll and see whether or not he picked it up.

“Are you here on business?” she asked none too discreetly.

“What? I don’t strike you as a local?”

“Hardly!” She swished her hair over her shoulder and leaned forward. “You have that out-of-town-businessman vibe down pat.” A vibe she was very much enjoying. That meant he wouldn’t be around all the time, and she could have her fun.

“You certainly don’t look like a Vegas local either,” he admitted, evading her question.

“Transplant from L.A.,” she told him.

“Now, that makes more sense. You have that Cali vibe.”

Bryna looked down at her outfit—skintight black jeans, a black tank, and a gold belt around her waist. Me?

“Please don’t tell me you think I look like a surfer,” she joked.

It was what people always incorrectly associated with California when, in fact, there was so much more to the state than that.

“You look Hollywood or Beverly Hills.”

“That’s more like it.”

“Ma’am,” a clerk said, coming up to stand before them at the counter, “did you want to try on the Atlas earrings?”

Bryna chewed on her bottom lip, debating. She did want them, but she had already wasted her last precious minutes talking with this man—well, not truly wasted, of course. Still, she had to leave already and didn’t have time to get them. Another time perhaps.

“No. Thank you though.”

“Try them on,” the man insisted.

He gestured for the clerk to take them out of the cabinet. She placed them on a black crushed-velvet pad, and they were even more stunning when Bryna could almost reach out and touch them.

She took the earrings from the woman and switched out the ones she had been wearing for the Atlas diamonds. She brushed her hair back to look at them in the mirror and sighed delightfully.

“I think you have to get them,” he said.

“Is that so?”

“They’re perfect for you.”

She was about to agree with him when her phone rang noisily. Fuck! She dug through her purse and silenced the ringer. Stacia. Oops!

“Sorry,” she said to the man and the clerk. “Give me one minute.”

They both nodded, and she walked a short distance away to answer the phone. “Hey, S.”

“Where the eff are you, Bri? I’m at your condo. We’re supposed to leave for the game soon!”

“I know. I got held up. I’ll be there in ten minutes. Let yourself in.”

“Where are you? Why are you not home?” Stacia demanded.

“I’m at the Forum.”

“You’re seriously shopping right now?” Stacia shrieked. “We have to be on an airplane in a couple hours, and you just now realized you’re missing something?”

“I needed a new carry-on,” Bryna said. She was in no hurry to leave before getting the man’s name and number. That was for sure. “I’ll be back soon.”

“A carry-on,” Stacia said dryly. “You have a full closet of bags, and I’ve seen your Louis Vuitton luggage.”

“Well, you can never have too many. Plus, I got sidetracked in Tiffany’s,” she confided. She wasn’t used to having people question and command her like this. She was trying to rein in her inner bitch, so she wouldn’t tell her friend to fuck off.

“Bri!”

“And there’s a cute guy. So, I have to go.”

“B, walk out right now. No cute guys. We have a game to get to.”

“You ruin all my fun,” Bryna said in a pouty voice.

“Blame cheer.”

“Fine. I will,” Bryna said. “You know I’m only doing this because my mom cheered, right?”

“Yes. Sure. Not because you enjoy it,” Stacia said sarcastically. “Your mom was a cheerleader, and your dad was a star football player. Maybe if you didn’t hang out at Tiffany’s with hot strangers, you could meet one of those yourself.”

Bryna glanced over her shoulder at her hot stranger and lowered her voice. “But then, how will I know they can afford my lifestyle?” She was only half-joking. Or maybe she wasn’t at all.

Stacia laughed. “You have a fair point. I hate to concede to it, but it is you. And I do want a wealthy, hot NFL quarterback,” she said dreamily. “We’re not asking for too much, are we?”

“Definitely not. I really have to go. I’ll come back soon.”

“Hurry up,” Stacia said before they disconnected.

Bryna dropped her phone back into her purse and then returned to the counter. Luckily, the guy was still standing there. It seemed he had purchased something while she was on the phone.

She went to take the earrings out of her ears. “Sorry. No time to get these. I have to head out. At least you found what you were looking for.”

“Yes, I did.”

The man held the bag out to her, and she stopped trying to fiddle with the earring clasp.

“What?”

“I told you that you needed them,” he told her.

“I’m confused.”

“I got them for you.”

“You purchased the earrings?” she whispered in surprise. She had said to Stacia that she wanted someone to support her lifestyle, but she hadn’t quite expected this.

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