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‘Not any more,’ Sabine trilled. ‘Reiko has stepped in.’
Several intense expressions flitted across his face. Then his gaze slid to the jewels.
The first piece was a sixteen-inch double-strand necklace composed of endless emerald beads interspersed with twenty-four-carat gold nuggets, each bearing tiny imprints of the Fortier family crest. A matching single-strand bracelet with matching smaller emerald beads shimmered as it was fastened around a model’s wrist.
The second model was draped in a necklace of beaten gold shells, the largest of which was centred with a perfect South Sea pearl that glowed under the chandelier light.
The stylist lifted the Grand Duchess tiara from a bed of black velvet. The countless diamonds in the breathtaking design caught a thousand lights as the stylist turned towards Reiko.
‘Not that one,’ Damion rasped.
Relief weakened Reiko. Just the thought of having so much history weighing on her was unthinkable. The third model, clearly enjoying the honour bestowed on her, preened as the tiara was placed on her head.
A haunting sound of violins signalled the start of the show. A hairbrush-wielding assistant entered and made a beeline for Reiko.
Damion stopped her and took the hairbrush.
‘Can I have the room, please?’
Sabine took one look at them and ushered everyone out.
‘Sit.’ Damion indicated the stool before the lit mirror.
Heart in her throat, she obeyed. His strokes were long and rhythmic, as if he had all the time in the world.
Then he lifted her hair. For the first time in a long time, Reiko felt the whisper of a breeze against her bare nape. She jerked as if Damion’s hand had physically touched the three slashing raised scars on her neck. With seductively sure expertise, he secured her hair and reached for a silk-covered case.
He unwrapped it and she gasped. The diamond-and-sapphire choker was the most exquisite piece of jewellery she’d ever seen. Arranged on four strings of diamonds, its centre detail held a sapphire as large as an egg.
The clasp held six miniature stones woven into intricate detail.
He held it up and Reiko’s stomach clenched. After he’d adjusted the choker, he pressed a kiss against her first vertebrae. ‘Bravo, ma belle.’
Tears prickled her eyes. Blinking them back, she forced herself to step away from him. Then immediately stepped back. ‘I … I don’t think I can do this, Damion. All those stunning people … right next door … and I’m—’
‘You’re my fearless ninja,’ he returned.
She shook her head. ‘No, she’s taken a vacation. I don’t blame her. Even she knows I’m flawed beyond redemption.’
A curious look entered his eyes. ‘I disagree. Perfection doesn’t exist, but if it did you’d be the closest thing to it.’
‘Dammit, Damion. If you make me cry and ruin my make-up, I will kick your ass.’ She blinked fiercely. ‘Anyway, shouldn’t you be entertaining your friend?’
A smile played about his lips. ‘I like that you’re jealous.’ His eyes fell to the choker and the smile disappeared. ‘I like a lot of things about you a little too much.’
With that enigmatic delivery, he pressed a kiss to her forehead and left.
The increased volume of the music interrupted her reeling thoughts. When the stylist stuck his head through the door and asked, ‘Are you ready?’ every muscle locked in an effort to stay where she was.
Somehow she took a step, then another. At the door, she nodded shakily. ‘I’m ready.’
Damion positioned himself at the end of the runway so he’d be the first person she saw when she emerged. He wanted her attention firmly on him. He needed it, craved it. His mind still reeled at the sight of her in that piece of Fortier jewellery.
She didn’t know the history behind it, of course. Very few did. He suppressed a smile at the thought of her reaction once she found out.
On one side of him his grandfather sat, his gaze focused in front of him. On the other Isadora spoke softly, trying to catch his attention. He didn’t feel obliged to give it. His every sense was attuned to the spotlit red velvet curtain, where any moment now—
She stepped out and his breath was strangled in his throat. Stunning didn’t even begin to describe her. Her head was tilted at a perfect angle to show off the jewellery, her slow, seductive walk striking fire into his loins. He’d had her just mere hours ago, but his body didn’t seem to remember its satiation. It screamed his need like a thirsty man screamed for water.
