His voice turned angry and frostbitten. “I got…jealous.” He bit the word into pieces, ripped out its entrails, and threw the rest into a fire. A fire that licked down my neck and over my nipples, scratching deeper into my core.
Throwing me away, he stood to his tall height and wiped his mouth with a shaky hand. He didn’t shake from weakness. He shook from undiluted, raw need.
He infected me with it.
He cursed me with it.
I shuddered as he snatched the box from the table, ripped it open, and tipped something bright and blingy into my lap.
The teal of my dress caught it, spinning rainbows and unblemished glitter.
A diamond.
A huge rock of a gemstone that shimmered with expensive splendour.
I didn’t need to ask if it was real. The brilliance of such a stone couldn’t be fake.
“That’s from the man who fell in love with you three nights ago.” His handsome face twisted with a savage sneer. “First time in Euphoria and you’ve earned a forty-thousand-dollar diamond. Four days until your next serve, Jinx. Let’s see if every man falls in love with you…or if it’s just one.”
With a sadistic, spiteful look, he spun and stalked away.
Only once he’d vanished down his immaculate orchid-frosted pathway did I manage to breathe. To look around. To notice Jealousy had gone. The other goddesses had disappeared.
And I sat all alone, in a wet patch caused by his voice, clutching a diamond worth more than I’d ever earned in my life.
A diamond given in lieu of a man’s heart.
Chapter Seven
A SHRILL RING REACHED into my sleep and clawed apart my dreams.
Not that I dreamt anything good. Just goddesses and diamonds and the endless pain of not taking the girl I wanted.
Another ring and I shot awake.
An echoing sound followed, just as piercing, just as annoying.
My cell phone vibrated across my bedside table, the screen lit up, its noise crashing the serenity.
Reaching for it, I fumbled to accept the call, groaning at the time.
Four a.m.
Another ear-splitting ring ricocheted even though the call had already connected, wrenching my attention behind me. Pika hopped across the spare pillow, screeching his head off, mimicking the ring—or trying to.
Caique parrots weren’t known for their vocalization skills. Their mischief, intelligence, and teenage sense of calamity, yes. But their ability to talk as easily as macaws or other feathered cousins, no. The fact that Pika knew a few words and figured out what context to use them was outstanding in and of itself. However, his imitation of a cell phone definitely wasn’t his forte.
“Sinclair? That you?” A man’s voice popped into my ear as I held the mobile close.
Pika let out another painful screech.
I lunged across the pillows, trying to grab his beak to shut him up. He just eyed me with rascal impishness and fluttered into the rafters.
Silence reigned again as I settled back on my bed, rubbing my eyes from haze. “Yeah, Sinclair speaking. Who’s this?”
“It’s Peter Beck, sir.”
“Peter.” I sat up, instantly alert. “Why are you calling me at four in the morning?” The darkness of my villa suddenly seemed full of threats. The heavy stillness of the tropical jungle oppressive outside. The ceiling fan above sent licks of cooler air, ensuring I could sleep with a sheet rather than totally naked.
I didn’t feel the heat much during the day—my body trained to accept a suit and not sweat. But at night, alone, I hated clothing. My flesh needed breeze and sea and freedom.
“Oh, it’s that early? I’m sorry. I forgot to check the time zones.”
“Everything okay with the lab? Nothing’s blown up, has it?” I wiped my mouth, stifling a yawn. Sleep no longer had a hold on me, but my body hadn’t quite caught up with my brain.
“Yes, it’s fine,” the head scientist said. “Our new trial with blending CBD oil with the other compound we were discussing last month is going better than expected. Results are showing significant reduction in cancer cells along with providing pain relief and anxiety suppression in one package.”
“Sounds promising.” When he didn’t continue, I added, “What’s the problem then?”
“It’s Mr. Sinclair, sir. Your, eh, brother.”
Instantly, a heavy scowl tipped my eyebrows down. “I know who Mr. Sinclair is. What’s he done now? He knows he’s not allowed in the building.”
“I know. But…he summoned a private board meeting the other month, unbeknownst to me. He managed to persuade a few members that you’re incapable for the position, no longer have time to spend on his parents’ company, and driving Sinclair and Sinclair Group into the ground with philanthropic work and far too cheap pharmaceuticals. Eh…he convinced a few of the members to accept his proposal that they allow him a lab of his own. To prove that he’s the better leader.” His voice lowered. “He basically means to overthrow you. To toss out the genius and replace with a savant. His words, sir, not mine.”