The Diamond Affair (11 page)

And she had no
idea if Jake was even alive.

CHAPTER 9

Ruby drove around
the block twice before she parked the sports car two streets away from her
apartment. She couldn't return to her own place without her keys but she could
wake Evie up. As long as she was home and not staying overnight at her
boyfriend's.

She couldn't get
into the stairwell to go up to the second floor so she scraped some pebbles off
the flower bed and threw them at her friend's window. The first two missed but
the third made a resounding
crack
on the glass. Two more pebbles later
and a light came on inside. The window was thrown up and Evie's head popped
out.

"Who the
hell—?"

"Shhh, Evie,
it's me. Ruby."

"Rube?"
Evie leaned further out of the window. "What are you doing here at this
hour? Where've you been? And where're your clothes?"

"Let me in and
I'll tell you everything."

Evie disappeared
and the door to the stairwell buzzed. Ruby pushed it open and ran up the
stairs. Evie opened her door and pulled Ruby into a tight embrace.

"I've been
worried sick," she said. "That man had a good look around your car the
other night then he broke into your apartment. I called the cops but they
couldn't do much. They really want to speak to you."

"Never mind
the cops, can I use your phone?"

"Sure—. Hey,
why are your wrists tied?" She worked on the bonds, listening with
wide-eyed horror to Ruby's brief explanation.

Once her hands
were free, Ruby rubbed the sting out of her wrists. They were raw but
thankfully the skin hadn't broken.

Evie found a
salve in her bathroom and applied it to the red marks. "I bet you need a
coffee," she said afterwards. She put the kettle on and hovered nearby
while Ruby dialed Jake's phone number from memory. It rang out. She swore
because it was less damaging than beating the phone against the kitchen bench,
or crying.

"What's up?"
Evie asked.

"Do you have
a phone book handy?"

Evie reached into
a cupboard and pulled out the books. "Coffee?" she said as she handed
them to Ruby.

"God, yes."
Ruby flicked the pages until she came to the Forrester listings.
Please don't
have a silent number
. Yes! She punched in his home number.

It was picked up
on the first ring.

"Hello, this
is Damien speaking."

Ruby froze. Damien?
Another of Beauvoir's men?

"Hello?"
the voice prompted. "Is this Ruby?"

"Uh,"
she said, "is Jake there?"

"This
is
Ruby isn't it?" Damien said. "Jake told me to wait here in case you
returned or called."

Evie slid a mug
of coffee across the bench and Ruby cupped it, warming her hand. Should she
trust this Damien fellow? Jake had never mentioned him. How had he come to be in
Jake's apartment?

"He's all
right," Damien said. "He's out of hospital."

Hospital? Oh God,
he
was
injured. A small choking sound escaped her throat before she
covered her mouth with her fingers.

"Sorry, I
forgot, you wouldn't have known he was in hospital. Man, he's been frantically
trying to find you. I've never seen him so fired up over a job before."

"If you know
Jake," she said cautiously, "you'd know where he was moving to and
why."

"Wise to be
careful," Damien said, sounding satisfied. "He's moving to Sydney. As
to why, I can't help you there but if I know Jake—and I can tell you I've done
a few jobs with him now—-then he's running away from something. Actually it's
probably more of a some
one
."

Ruby blew out a
breath. That was about the sum total of her knowledge of Jake too. It would
have to do. "Can you get in touch with him?"

"Yep. He's
using my phone and my car. Hopefully both fare better than his last ones. Got a
pen and paper?"

Ruby hung up and
dialed the number Damien had given her. It picked up after only one ring. "Any
news?" It was him.

"Jake, it's
me." That was all she got out before she burst into tears.

***

She'd never been
so happy to see anyone in her life. When Evie opened the door to Jake, Ruby ran
into his arms, all discomfort from their earlier kiss forgotten. He held her
close but she felt his body tense on impact and he sucked air between his teeth.

"You're
hurt," she said, touching the line of stitches slashing his forehead.

"Are you?"
His hooded gaze swept over her body. She'd changed into some spare clothes of
Evie's but her feet were still bare.

"I'm fine. Fat
Frankie's a little sore though." She gave him a guarded smile.

He touched her
cheek, his face darkening. "What happened?"

She briefed him
on her trip into the country leaving out a few details.

"Christ,"
he muttered when she finished. "I'm sorry."

"It's not
your fault. None of this is your fault."

"I shouldn't
have left you—"

"If you're
going to beat yourself up over this, then I'm going to fire you. You can turn
around and walk right out that door now."

His hand dropped
to his side. "I will, but you're coming with me. It won't take long for Beauvoir
and Frankie to come sniffing around."

He was right. The
sooner they got away the better. Ruby thanked Evie and hugged her. "You be
careful," her friend said.

"I'll call
you when this is all over," Ruby said. "Hopefully soon." But she
doubted the truth of her words. Without the Florentine, and with no clue as to
who really had it, she couldn't see Beauvoir letting up on the chase.

The hopelessness
of the situation weighed her down. She followed Jake out to Damien's car, a bag
of clothes she and Evie had packed while they waited for him in his hand. They climbed
into the sedan and sped off.

Ruby settled into
the seat and stretched out her legs. It had been one hell of a long night and
she could barely keep her eyes open. She could only imagine how Jake must feel
after being in an accident as well.

She looked at
him. He watched the road ahead with an intensity she'd come to know. White
knuckles gripped the wheel and his mouth had settled into a firm, grim line. The
weight of their predicament must be pressing down on him too. She wanted to
reach over and rub the back of his neck, ease away some of the tension in him. But
she didn't dare, not while he was driving.

"Where are
we going?" she asked.

"A mate has
a beachfront house in Brighton. He's currently in Afghanistan with Matt so it's
vacant. He's not married so he's happy to loan it out to anyone who wants it
while he's overseas. We'll hole up there until we decide on our next move."

"Brighton? That's
a bit expensive for an SAS operative, isn't it?"

"He came
from a rich family. When his parents died he took over the place but he's
rarely there." One side of his mouth quirked up. "He says any of his
mates are welcome to use it as a bachelor pad."

"To impress the
girls with the location?" She snorted. "I hardly think you need to
resort to those measures."

"My view is
okay?"

"Your view
is better than okay." She smiled at him but he was watching the road and
didn't see.

"Hopefully
no one's using it tonight."

"Hopefully."
She didn't want to embroil anyone else in her mess.

The mate must be
loaded. Located in one of Melbourne's prestige suburbs, the massive house had
spectacular views across Port Phillip Bay. Dawn turned the sky a dusty rose and
the water became a sleek, glassy surface in the windless morning. It would have
been magical if Ruby wasn't so tired.

Jake found the
key where he expected it to be buried inside a potted plant out back and punched
in a code to disarm the alarm. After a quick tour of the house, he left her
alone in the bathroom. While the bath filled up, she rummaged through her bag
for shampoo, conditioner and clean clothes.

Half an hour later
she emerged from a soothing spa bath, ready to climb into a bed and sleep the
day away. Until she saw Jake.

He lay on a long
couch on his back, his arms crossed over his bare chest. Dark blue-black
bruises covered nearly every inch of his upper body. No wonder he'd winced when
she hugged him at Evie's. He must be in a lot of pain.

She went to touch
a bruise on his collar bone but checked herself. She didn't want to wake him. He
must have had a shower in another bathroom because his hair was damp and he
wore a different pair of jeans to the ones he'd had on when they arrived. He
hadn't carried in a bag, so he must have raided the house owner's wardrobe.

"Feel
better?" he murmured without opening his eyes.

So much for not
waking him. "A little. You?"

"Much. But I
think we'll both feel better once we have a few hours sleep."

"More than a
few." She nodded at the line of stitches on his forehead. "It looks sore.
What did they say at the hospital?"

"That I
should've been wearing a seatbelt."

"It could
have been a lot worse." She chewed her bottom lip to stop it wobbling. Thinking
about how bad it
could
have been sent icy shivers creeping down her
spine.

"But it wasn't.
Don't worry about me, Ruby, I can take care of myself."

She traced her
finger around the darkest bruise on his shoulder. He twitched at the touch but
didn't shift away. "Not very well, obviously." She got up and headed
back to the bathroom. She'd seen some bruise cream in the cupboard earlier and
pulled it out. "I'll rub this on," she said, returning to the lounge
room.

He sat up and
frowned. "I told you not to worry about me."

She gently pushed
him back again. "Let me do this. Please. It's the least I can do for all
the trouble I've caused."

"You're no
trouble."

She cocked her
head to the side and raised an eyebrow.

"Okay,"
he said, "you are trouble." He settled into the couch and eyed the
jar suspiciously. "I've never heard of bruise cream before."

"Luckily
your friend has. Let me rub it—"

"I'll do it."

She held the jar up
high and shook her head. He could have easily reached up and grabbed it but
didn't. "Just lie there and be quiet. Let someone else do the work for
once." When he looked like he was about to protest again, she added, "Please
let me do this for you."

He relented with
a curt nod.

She had every
intention of being the nursemaid and tending to his bruises in a professional
manner, but as soon as she touched him all good intentions flew out the window.
His skin felt cool from the shower and surprisingly smooth. It amazed her how
silky it was, so at odds with the hard angles and equally hard attitude of the
man himself.

She drew in a
deep breath to curb her desire. Beyond the perfume of the bruise cream, she
could smell the soap he'd used and the unmistakable scent of man. Mmmm, delicious.
So much for curbing anything.

She couldn't get
enough of touching him. The undulating chest muscles were covered with dark
bruises and a scattering of springy black hair, arrowing down to the low waist
band of his jeans. Was he bruised down there too? Maybe she should check.

But she lost her
nerve and continued to circle the bruises she
could
see. A small tremor
rippled through his body and his eyelids fluttered shut. A groan sounded deep
within him.

She settled
herself on the couch beside him and concentrated on each bruise, slathering
them one by one in the cream. Rubbing, massaging, exploring.

He moaned, the
small sound escaping from parted lips. Very sexy lips. The sort made for kissing
a girl senseless. She had to taste them. Just one taste.

She leaned down
and pressed her lips to his. He responded by opening his mouth, not by moving
away as she'd half expected.

He pulled her
closer, holding her hard up against him. Her breasts squashed against his
chest. Without a bra to get in the way, her nipples quickly peaked with the
friction, sending tingles shimmering across her skin.

Ohhh...

He reached around
to her butt and pulled her on top of him with one powerful arm. Funny how his
bruises didn't seem to be bothering him anymore.

"Off,"
he said, tugging at her T-shirt.

She sat up and
helped him then threw the T-shirt to the floor. He massaged her breasts the way
she'd massaged him earlier, teasing the nipples to points. Little jolts of
lightening shot through her and she threw her head back and groaned.

"That feels
so good," she muttered.

"
You
feel good. So hot. Sexy."