The Devil's Bargain (Bad Billionaires Book 2) Page 3

  Now, she was much more aware, and stronger.

  Which begged the question, what the hell was wrong with her? Because her body had reacted the moment he walked through her front door. Her heart fluttered and her breath caught. Her palms went clammy and her panties were uncomfortably damp.

  Sure, that was understandable considering the man was a walking advertisement for bad-boy perfection. But she knew his smile was a facade and every word out of his mouth was suspect.

  Apparently, her body was stupid and her brain had a poor memory. At least her heart was less susceptible.

  She hoped.

  Either way, this visit had absolutely nothing to do with her and Finn. Noah was all that mattered.

  Taking a deep, calming breath, Genevieve whispered, “Come meet your son.”

  Waving him over, she backed from the doorway to give him room. She wanted to train her gaze on Noah, to watch his reaction when he realized there was someone new in the house. But Genevieve couldn’t stop her eyes from shifting from the blond-haired boy happily sitting in Maddie’s lap to his father.

  A tight band constricted her chest at the utter awe stamped across Finn’s face. Something unexpected swam through his intent gaze. Something genuine and real. If she didn’t know better, Genevieve would have called it longing and hope.

  “He looks like my brother.”

  “He looks like you,” Genevieve countered. Except for the blond hair and blue eyes, her son was the spitting image of his father.

  Finn gave a quick shake of his head and she wondered if he really couldn’t see it. When he was little, it was less obvious, but as Noah had grown, becoming more of a little boy instead of a baby, the resemblance was unavoidable. The only things she’d given their son were his pert nose and bowed mouth. Everything else was pure Finn...including his mischievous, playful nature.

  Because, God knew, he hadn’t gotten that from Genevieve. But she loved the fact that her son had the opportunity to be a kid. Something she’d never gotten.

  Finally sensing them hovering in the doorway, Noah’s little head shot up. His expression lit up, as it always did when he saw her. Crossing to them, Genevieve pulled Noah into her arms as she said, “Thanks, Maddie.”

  “Anytime.” Pushing up, Maddie paused on her way out to flash an angry, warning gaze at Finn. Several seconds later the front door reverberated shut, leaving the three of them alone.

  Genevieve had the sudden and overwhelming urge to call Maddie back. She needed that buffer, any buffer.

  Noah broke the moment, smacking his hands against Genevieve’s face and forcing her to look at him. “Mama.”

  Bouncing him on her hip to resettle him, Genevieve moved closer to Finn. “Noah, this is your daddy. Finn, this is Noah.”

  Noah tilted his little head sideways, a move she’d seen Finn do not ten minutes before. His cherub lips pursed into a mew and his eyes narrowed. They all held a breath.

  That apparently was unnecessary because after several seconds, Noah held his arms out to Finn and demanded, “Up.”

  To her utter surprise, Finn did just that, scooping her son out of her arms and into his without hesitation. They went nose-to-nose, staring at each other. Noah blinked. And the most gorgeous smile spread across Finn’s face.

  Pointing to the bookshelf, her son issued a familiar demand. “Book.”

  Making himself at home, Finn obliged. Grabbing a book from the shelf, he settled into the rocking chair, plopping Noah into his lap like they’d done it a million times.

  Genevieve watched for several seconds before quietly turning and leaving.

  She couldn’t stay. It hurt.

  And she hated herself a little because it did.

  * * *

  Casing the place was second nature. Finn didn’t even have to try to catalog the security weaknesses as he walked through the front doors at the trendy jewelry boutique in downtown Charleston. The kind of place that catered to wealthy customers even as it proclaimed itself bohemian and unusual.

  Hypocritical as far as he was concerned. They wanted to make beaucoup money, but pretend they were in it for the art.

  The security guy they’d hired stuck out like a sore thumb, even as he tried to blend in. First, his cheap suit was trying too hard to parade as expensive. Not to mention, the cut of it was terrible, the gun under his arm bulging out visibly when he moved.

  Their technology sucked. The cameras were in obvious positions—watching the door, each of the counters and the hallway into the back room. They were at least ten years old and if he had to guess not even digital. No doubt there were blind spots everywhere and the quality of the recordings next to useless.

  Sticking his hands in his pockets, Finn wandered slowly through the cramped store. He made a show of inspecting the merchandise, but was really memorizing the staff’s movements.

  They made it too damn easy.

  Knocking over this place would be child’s play. With little effort he could have a flawless plan in probably two hours. And most of that time would be replenishing equipment he no longer owned. Hell, he could probably pocket a couple of loose stones without even trying.

  But that wasn’t why he was here.

  Not to mention, he was going straight...for now. Not only did he need to keep on the right side of his parole officer, but no doubt one whiff of theft and Genevieve would deny him access to Noah, court order or not.

  “Sir, can I help you?”

  Flipping up his wrist, Finn looked at the Piaget there before flicking his gaze up to the woman who’d finally greeted him. Eight minutes and thirteen seconds. Not great.

  “Yes. I’d like to look at some pieces I understand you have on consignment.”

  The woman visibly perked up. Of course she did. First, he hadn’t missed her attention to his watch and the dollar signs she’d finally started ringing up as her gaze swept over him. And all the consignment collections the boutique happened to be hosting were high dollar.

  She was about to make a hefty commission.

  “Wonderful. What collection were you interested in viewing? We have some wonderful pieces from Maximillian Broussard, a former designer with Harry Winston.”

  “No, I’m familiar with his work, but his pieces are too heavy for what I’m looking for.”

  The woman’s mouth pursed. Broussard’s pieces were no doubt going for more than Genevieve’s. For now.

  “You’re looking for something more delicate and intricate?”

  Finn nodded.

  “I’m Denise and I have just the thing. Follow me.” She spun and trotted off across the store toward what was no doubt a private showroom behind a heavy velvet curtain.

  Finn’s eyebrows rose as she pulled back the rich sapphire barrier and swept her hand, indicating he should precede her inside. As expected, the room was set up with an elegant table in the center covered in black velvet. There were three chairs and the space was flooded with bright lights. The kind that could catch even the worst cut angle of a gem and make it sparkle like the most flawless diamond.

  He accepted a chair and waited. “We have several exclusive pieces from an up-and-coming designer. She’s just beginning to make a name for herself, but she’s been around gemstones her entire life. She’s known for the intricate details of her work and the flawless way she displays stones, emphasizing their strengths and camouflaging their flaws. What kind of piece were you looking for?”

  “I’m interested in buying something for a woman who’s important to me.”

  “Necklace, bracelet, earrings...all three?”

  He could practically hear the hope in Denise’s voice. He was about to make her ever-loving day. “Possibly. If I find the right pieces. Why don’t you show me what you have and we’ll go from there?”

  Denise nearly clapped her hands together with glee. “Absolutely. Let me pour you a dri
nk while I go gather a few things to show you. Bourbon? Wine?”

  “Bourbon would be lovely.” He really didn’t want it, but it always set people at ease when they left you something to do with your hands and mouth.

  The minute Denise was gone, Finn abandoned the uncomfortable chair and began wandering the room. If he’d wanted to, he could have been into the back rooms, probably cracked their shitty safe and had a pocket stuffed full of stones before she returned.

  His palms itched and the enticing memory of adrenaline and triumph called to him. Stupid people practically begged to be taken advantage of. He had no respect for those who refused to protect what they valued. However, this place hardly presented a big enough challenge to honestly tempt him. It wasn’t worth it.

  Denise bustled back in and spread several trays out across the top of the table. Finn would have known the pieces were Genevieve’s even if there hadn’t been a discreet card with her name in a filigreed logo tucked into the corner of each.

  They were so her. Light and gorgeous. Breathtaking and delicate. But with a core of strength emanating from the twisting, looping metal surrounding the beautiful stones. None of the pieces held diamonds, which didn’t necessarily surprise him. That would have been too expected.

  Besides, Genevieve liked color.

  One grouping had the dark, deep red of Burmese rubies. Another with sapphires and water opals. They were all gorgeous. But the last set of emeralds called to him. Maybe because the varying shades of green reminded him of Genevieve’s eyes. The paler green center with the evergreen ring at the edge.

  Pulling the tray closer, Finn let his gaze travel across the matching set. The necklace was gorgeous, a single teardrop emerald with exquisite saturation and color. Finn itched to ask for a loupe, but didn’t want to reveal the extent of his knowledge. The stone was small, but he’d guess almost inclusion free. No doubt it had cost Genevieve quite a bit.

  The stones in the matching bracelet and earrings were smaller and less impressive, but that wasn’t surprising. The necklace was the showpiece. He could imagine it nestled right in the hollow of Genevieve’s throat.

  “I’ll take them,” he declared, pushing the tray away and sitting back. The spindly chair creaked ominously beneath him. Seriously, this place needed a full upgrade on everything.

  “Wonderful. She’s a lucky woman.”

  Finn fought back a laugh. That might be, but something told him if—no, when—Genevieve found out he’d purchased these pieces she was going to be less than pleased.

  There was more than one way to get his money into her hands.

  Three

  “You sold the three emerald pieces.”

  Genevieve’s belly clenched. She should be so happy. That sale alone would support her and Noah for the next several months. And if any of the other sets had sold she wouldn’t be conflicted. But from the moment she’d held that teardrop emerald she’d felt a connection to it.

  It wasn’t the first time. And hopefully, it wouldn’t be the last. She always felt a kinship with the stones she worked with. She routinely spent days or weeks studying them. Analyzing them from every angle to determine the best way to put them on display.

  But there’d been something very special about that emerald.

  However, she couldn’t afford to keep a stone simply because she wanted to. She’d had almost fifty grand tied up in that emerald alone. That was one of the drawbacks of running her own design company. The materials she worked with were expensive. But they paid off when they sold.

  She hadn’t sold a piece in a few weeks so this really came at a great time. That’s what she was going to focus on. Maybe after the collection launch she’d think about planning a trip for Noah to Disney next year. For his birthday.

  “Genevieve? Did you hear me?”

  Shaking her head, she brought her focus back to Eric, the owner of one of the boutiques she’d consigned with. “Yes, I’m sorry. That’s wonderful! Can you tell me who bought the pieces?”

  She always liked to know something about the people who purchased her jewelry. It helped her complete the circle in her head. To imagine the look of excitement, or shock and surprise, on a woman’s face when her husband presented her with one of her pieces. She liked to know if there was a story behind it. Was it to commemorate the birth of a child? Or fifty years together?

  It gave her a sense of pride and happiness to know something she created could give those feelings to someone else.

  “I don’t know much. Denise didn’t get a lot of details. A gentleman came in, but he wasn’t certain what he wanted. He chose the emerald pieces as soon as she brought them out, though.”

  Well, that was something. Maybe the person who’d purchased them had connected to them as much as she had. That gave her a little bit of comfort.

  “Can you send over the name and address?”

  She liked to send her customers a personal note of thanks. It was something she’d done in the beginning and many of her customers had made repeat purchases, partly because they liked her style, but also because they appreciated the personal touch.

  It was one of the few downsides to expanding her business. She wasn’t certain how she would maintain that same connection.

  The upcoming collection had the potential to make a huge splash. Her partnership with Mitchell Brothers Jewelry, a major chain within the southeast, was already receiving some amazing press. It was nice to have that kind of experience and marketing behind her collection.

  In a matter of weeks, she would go from having her pieces displayed in a handful of boutiques to appearing in over fifty locations in twelve states across the South.

  It would mean more security for Noah. She’d simply have to find a way to keep the personal touch she’d become known for.

  “Absolutely,” Eric said. “I’ll email the information to you. And we’ll send the direct deposit within the week.”

  “Thanks, Eric. I appreciate it.”

  Genevieve hung up and walked back into the studio where she designed. Noah was with Nicole, the woman Genevieve had hired to watch her son while she worked. Nicole was a college student, which was convenient for Genevieve, who often worked weird hours when she was in the middle of a design. She had at least another two hours before she needed to be home.

  She stared at the stones spread across the table before her. They were gorgeous. A perfect example of alexandrite, a rare semiprecious stone known for color shifting based on the light. She’d been studying the seven stones for the past few days, trying to decide what they were destined to be.

  The biggest was slightly over a carat. Three more were roughly three quarters each. The other three varied, but were all just below a half. It would make sense to set the largest stone in a necklace, two of the smaller as stud earrings and then a bracelet of some kind.

  That would be logical. But that wasn’t what her instincts were calling for her to do. The problem was, no alternative was coming to her, either.

  She let her fingers sift across the stones, enjoying their cool surface and the way they rolled beneath her touch. She could feel the hard edges. See the brilliant fire trapped deep inside.

  Scooping them into her palm, she rearranged them once more, hoping inspiration would hit.

  Nothing.

  She’d sunk a lot of money into these stones and really needed to finish it before the opening. Frustration tightened her shoulders until they pulled up close to her ears.

  The ding of an email arriving on her phone cut through the unhappy silence of her studio.

  Perfect. She needed a distraction.

  Snatching up her phone, Genevieve unlocked the screen and pulled up the email from Eric.

  A growl escaped when she read the information he’d forwarded.

  She was going to kill Finn.

  * * *

  Finn was naked when the d
oorman buzzed up to let him know he had a visitor—a female—waiting for him downstairs. The only woman who had his address was Stone’s girlfriend, Piper. And he couldn’t think of a single reason she’d stop by. Especially without calling.

  A half smile twisted his lips. That just left Genevieve.

  The familiar edge of excitement shot through his veins. Whatever brought her to his doorstep at seven at night, it wasn’t likely to be because she wanted to rip his clothes off.

  Grabbing a pair of sweatpants, Finn slipped them on, but didn’t bother with a shirt. Padding across his penthouse loft, he rubbed a towel across his wet hair as he went. Pulling open his front door, he left it wide-open and wandered back into his living room.

  No doubt she’d find him.

  It didn’t take her long. He heard the sharp tap of her feet against his floor. She was wearing heels. He loved when she wore heels. They made her calves and thighs look amazing.

  His front door slammed shut and her voice hissed behind him, “How many times do I have to say this? I don’t want your money.”

  Finished with the towel, Finn tossed it onto the arm of the sofa before taking his time to turn. His gaze traveled slowly down her body. It wasn’t intentional. He simply couldn’t stop his response to her.

  She was even more gorgeous when she was pissed.

  Her green eyes spit fire and twin flags of color stained her cheeks. Her hands were balled into fists and set high and tight on her hips. Her entire body leaned toward him even as she maintained about ten feet of distance.

  “You’ve made that clear.”

  “And yet, that didn’t stop you from pulling a stunt.”

  “Stunt?” Finn decided to play dumb, although it probably wasn’t going to get him anywhere. But he’d learned a long time ago not to admit guilt unless he knew for certain he was already caught. “What are you talking about?”