The Sapphire Affair (A Jewel Novel Book 1) (16 page)

Nice digs.

He stood in place, his ears trained on the sounds of the house. The upstairs was quiet and still. In the distance, the faint tinkling of women’s laughter fell on his ears. Steph was keeping them busy.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

“You have to see all the goodies,” Isla said, clasping a hand around Steph’s arm and whisking her through the dining room, where a maid with a sleek black ponytail presided over little appetizers, like tuna on a criss-cross potato chip, a bowl of olives, a plate of nuts, and mushroom caviar. In the kitchen, another woman in a black-skirted uniform tidied up.

“Have you heard of Joy Delivered?” Isla asked.

Steph blushed. Of course she’d heard of Joy Delivered. What woman with her own credit card and online access hadn’t heard of the premiere sex-toy company? She owned a few of those babies. The Wild One had taken the edge off some of her most tension-filled days, while the Lola and its ten varying pulses had turned her into somewhat of an addict. An orgasm junkie—that’s what those toys could make a woman. Besides, Steph hadn’t been with anyone since Duke, unless you counted battery-operated boyfriends.

Or yesterday with Jake.

“Yes. I’m familiar with Joy Delivered’s oeuvre,” she said drily as Isla led her to the living room, where a dozen or so women were shrieking, laughing, toasting, and feeling up purple, pink, blue, and all other color and style of sex toys. She drew a deep, fueling breath, reminding herself she’d been invited behind enemy lines tonight. This was her chance to learn, to observe, to soak up as much intel as possible.

“Isla, look! This one has ten speeds, and it simulates a tongue,” a bleached blond with a penchant for Botox shouted to the hostess. Her forehead didn’t move as she spoke. It appeared to have been ironed on.

“Oh, that sounds amazing,” Isla purred in that sultry voice. “I should try that with my sweetie.”

Sweetie. Eli.

Was that Steph’s lunch that was coming back up? Yes, it might very well be. She squeezed her eyes shut momentarily, then opened them and plastered on a smile as the women passed the Lola toy around.

“That’s one of the best models,” an authoritative-sounding brunette with cat’s-eye glasses pronounced. She must be the sex-toy representative. “It’s made of the finest silicone and it’ll last at least ten hours before you need to charge it or change batteries. Ten hours—do you know how many orgasms that equals?” she asked, like a teacher tossing out a question to the class.

Bleached Blonde waved her arm high. “Pick me, pick me.”

“Madeline, tell us,” the woman said.

The blonde sat up straighter and turned her index finger and thumb into an
O
, declaring, “With my ex-husband, it’s zero. With my hot new boy toy, it’s infinity.”

The ladies cracked up, and Isla grabbed Steph’s arm once more. “Isn’t that so true,” Isla said breathlessly. “It’s the same for me. Well, Eli’s no boy toy, but he’s all man in the—”

“Is that champagne? I have been craving it all day,” Steph said, as if she’d had nothing but the bubbly beverage on her mind. She pointed to a bottle on the sleek pewter coffee table.

“Someone get this hot young babe a champagne,” Madeline shouted, pointing at Steph.

In seconds, Steph had downed the bubbly beverage and figured she’d need many more to make it through a sex-toy party that her stepfather had inadvertently invited her to. Or perhaps it was intentional. The mere thought of that made her pour a second glass.

Easy as pie.

Padding quietly down the carpeted hall, as noiseless as a cat, Jake passed a guest bedroom, then reached the office. Holding his breath, he gripped the doorknob and turned it quietly. Every muscle in his body was poised. To move, to run, to respond. Logic told him that Eli wouldn’t be in this room, but you never know.

Gently, he opened the door and peered beyond it. The moonlight streaked through the window, casting faint glows across the desk, the floor, and the shelves.

Photos of Eli’s fiancée and his kids lined his desk. An image of Steph kissing a stingray caught Jake’s attention. The sun shone on her face, and the water sparkled like diamonds behind her. Her smile could launch a thousand ships. Her happiness radiated from the frame, and his heart beat faster.

He smacked his chest to shut it up.

The safe had to be in here. He began his search.

The bleached blonde named Madeline patted the seat next to her. “You’re Eli’s girl, right?”

“Stepdaughter,” Steph corrected as she took the seat.

The dark-haired maid swooped in and deposited a new tray full of appetizers on the low table. Immediately, Isla’s hand shot out for the olives, with fingers like a pelican’s beak, grasping one. She popped it into her mouth and rolled her eyes in delight.

“Tell us everything,” Madeline said. “He talks about you all the time.”

A chorus of women’s voices echoed Madeline.

“He does?” Steph asked as happiness coursed through her.

Isla nodded. “He was so excited to see you earlier this week at Tristan’s.”

Steph parted her lips, tempted to ask why he’d invited her tonight but didn’t show. Instead, she focused on her mission. “I was so happy to see him, too. It sounds like you’re both having the time of your lives here in the Islands,” she said, grateful that the light-headedness from the champagne made her sound truly thrilled.

Isla placed her hand on her heart. “Oh, we are. We truly are. Life is lovely in the Caymans.”

Steph sighed happily, imitating Isla. “I can only imagine. You have the club, and he told me about all your charitable work, and of course the property you’re investing in, too,” she said, the words tumbling forth with ease as she went fishing for info. The rest of the women oohed and aahed as they stroked pearl-filled rabbits and dual-action toys.

Isla’s eyes lit up and she crossed her fingers. “I’m hoping and praying the deal goes through. Madeline is my realtor, so I have high hopes. And when it does, I should be able to expand my gallery and showcase even more world-class art.”

“Oh, won’t that just be divine!” Steph declared, the bubbles buoying her as she mentally patted herself on the back for reeling in that bit of intel about their real-estate ventures. Jake would be impressed. Sexy, smart, hands-off Jake, who was waiting patiently in her Jeep.

“Yes. I do hope so. I’ve sold several paintings recently from an artist named Lynx who has such a brilliant concept of what the world can be.”

“How so?” Steph asked, eyes pinned on Isla.

“He believes in simplicity. That the world and its challenges can be reduced to geometric shapes. Eli and I so agree with him. He’s on a retreat in California to meditate on his newest series.”

Ah, so that explained the art in the club. Steph reached for her glass, downing the rest of it. “That must be where Eli is tonight. At the gallery,” Steph said, casting the bait in the water once more.

Isla waved a hand dismissively. “Oh, he got called away into the club. Had to check on a security issue there. You can never be too careful, you know.”

Steph’s ears pricked. Isla was like a blessed font of information. “Of course. One must always be safe. Can’t skimp on security.”

Isla patted Steph on the knee. “He’ll be back. He won’t stay away for long, knowing I’m doing some shopping tonight for new friends,” Isla said, waggling her well-groomed eyebrows at the array of vibrators.

She coughed. Lunch was definitely making a return trip. “Excuse me for a minute. I need the ladies’ room.”

“Just head down the hall,” Isla said, gesturing grandly, the ring on her right hand sparkling as she pointed.

Steph wandered past the kitchen, glancing behind her to make sure the coast was clear, then into the long hallway. Like a true Nancy Drew, she hunted around, scanning for any hidden doorways, secret passageways, or for art that might house a safe. The walls were lined with framed images of shapes—it was an homage to basic geometry with paintings of squares, circles, and trapezoids, similar to the club. But they were miniature—a few inches wide by a few inches high, too small to hide a safe. Crap. She really wanted to find a possible location for diamonds.

Now, let’s see. If she were a safe, where would she be? She tapped her fingers against her chin as she peered around. Taking quick steps, she hurried down the hall when someone opened a door.

The safe was small, hidden on a bookshelf behind a series of coffee-table photograph books of remote island locations. It took all of two minutes and twelve seconds to crack. Jake held his breath as he gingerly opened the small metal door. His heart beat loudly against his rib cage and that dangerous thing known as hope dared to surface inside him. What a thrill that would be to find a velvet pouch full of the money—in the form of diamonds—that Eli stole from Bob in Middle America.

He patted around the safe and found a passport.

OK, fine. Safes were excellent places to store important identification. He stuck his hand in farther, and holy smokes. That was what Eli had in his safe?

Her pulse spiked as she bumped into another woman in the hall. The brunette sex-toy mistress.

“Oh hi, Steph,” the woman said. “I was just getting some more goodies from my car. I didn’t expect them to sell so quickly. But I can’t complain.”

“Oh well, who doesn’t need to buy a dildo?” Steph joked as her cheeks burned bright red.

“I do hope you’ll get something. And as the daughter of the house I’ll happily give you a discount.”

Steph shook her head. “Stepdaughter. And I’m all good. Really. Bought a few dozen butterflies last week at a clearance sale, so I’m good to go,” she said, then pointed to the bathroom door. “I’m just going to pop into the restroom.”

Once inside, she did her best to take a while, washing her hands and applying some hand lotion when she was through. That should buy her some time to have the hallway to herself. But when she left, the woman was there, waiting to see her back to the party.

“Here,” the woman said, reaching into the box and taking out a black velvet bag. “Just take it. It’s on me.”

Steph shook her head. “Oh no. I can’t.”

“Please. It would make me happy to give you a gift.”

Steph parted her lips to protest, but the woman was insistent, staring intently at her over her glasses. “Thank you.”

“The pleasure is all mine. By the way, I’m Monica. I hope you enjoy your new gift. Let’s go back to the party,” she said, and nudged Steph gently with her elbow, guiding her back into the cackling fest of buzzed, horny women. So much for safe hunting. Monica had safe-blocked her.