Black Diamond (31 page)

Marc stepped back as she locked the door. He slipped his hands into the pockets of his pants and turned to view the passing traffic. He took several cleansing breathes, turning once he heard her drop the keys into her clutch. They locked eyes. She smiled and he stepped closer, dropping his mouth to hover mere inches from her.

“May I?” he asked as need masked his usual smooth delivery.

“I thought you’d never--”

Marc captured her words in a kiss that made him forget everything. He stepped back minutes later, not regretting taking a chance on her conceding. She stopped and ran her finger around her mouth, removing traces of a lipstick smear. They walked to the waiting limousine in silence. He held the door as she slid into the seat. He laughed and she looked up into his eyes.

“What’s so funny?”

Marc threw back his head and laughed until his eyes filled with tears.

“What?” Camille screeched.

Marc climbed in behind her and the driver closed the door. They were alone in the back seat of the stretch limo. “I thought about the look on your face when you stormed out of Artista. We’ve come a long way in a short period of time.”

“Yes, we have.” Camille search in her clutch, removing a compact. The lights from the small bar illuminated the backseat and she began reapplying her lipstick.

Soft jazz played as Marc watched and decided to test the boundaries of their relationship. He had to decide whether to move forward with or without her permission. “What are your plans after this case is done?”

She stopped and snapped the visor closed, shadowing her face into the night’s darkness. He turned his upper body, resting his back along the door. He wanted to take in her words and her body language. He had a lot riding on her response and he didn’t want to get it wrong.

Camille fell back into her seat. She shrugged her shoulders, not saying a word. He caught her off guard, and he planned to wait until he knew exactly where he stood with her and her life.

“I’m not sure. I need some time to regroup and decide what my next step is.”

The limo came to a stop in front of the banquet hall. He nodded in understanding and decided to push it further, “Where do I figure into your plans?”

“You don’t.”

* * *

The lights in the banquet room were low and the candle-decorated centerpieces illuminated the room in a soft glow. Blackjack tables were scattered around the room with well-dressed men and women mingling, ready to get the games started. Camille sniffed the intoxicating aroma of the six-foot buffet on the far wall across from the DJ.

IJDC held an annual banquet. This year’s them was a casino night in Vegas and no expense was spared. Employees were chauffeured to and from the event in limos, the drinks would flow, and it was a guaranteed good time.

Camille stood beside Marc knowing she had more to say, but the driver opened the door and he exited the vehicle before she could say anything else. She turned, attempting to explain when Saul met them at the door.

“Camille, don’t you look exquisite.” He leaned forward and placed an unwelcomed peck on her cheek.

“Thank you,” she mumbled. “Marc, this is Saul Donovan, our president.”

Saul appeared to puff his chest out while extending his hand toward Marc. They exchanged meaningless pleasantries and Saul moved to the next couple entering the hall. Marc took the opportunity to move to the open bar positioned in the corner a few feet away. He ordered a drink and she waited, noticing the stone-like appearance of his facial features.

“Marc…” She placed a hand on his sleeve. He turned a dark stare and settled his gaze on her hand.

“Camille…” Talib’s voice drifted from over her shoulder. She turned and smiled. He was a vision in the tuxedo, not as handsome as Marc, but a close second. The darkness of his skin rivaled the black tuxedo. He smiled and it reached his eyes, displaying slight laugh lines in the creased of his eyes. “You look beautiful.”

“Thank you” she said again and she meant it. He pulled her into an embrace. She could feel Marc’s eyes boring into her, she turned and introduced them. “Did you arrive alone?”

“Yes, it appears the woman I wanted to bring had other plans.”

Reading the meaning behind his words, Camille raised an eyebrow.

“Too bad for you,” Marc said, slipping his arm around her waist.

A low growl escaped as Talib’s gaze shifted from Camille to Marc. She could not believe she was witnessing two grown men filling the ballroom with testosterone. She looked between the men, who appeared to ignore her presence.

“I see Lee across the room,” she mumbled. Moving from Marc’s embrace, she left the two men without another thought.

* * *

Marc kept his distance throughout the night. Camille had a clear view of him from across the room as she talked with Lee. Actually, Lee was holding down both ends of the conversation and she hoped she wasn’t missing anything important because her mind was wandering. Marc was at the center of her woes.

The women in the room appreciated the sight of him in his tuxedo. Camille noticed the sideway glances and the inconspicuous winks pass his way. They had only known each other a week, yet she knew the conversation in the limo would arise again. Her life was in a big sloppy mess and adding him to it would only complicate things more. She had lost her best friend and now she was on the verge of losing this case.

Derek’s ultimatum raised the stakes. She knew the time she spent with the employees of IJDC would be her best defense if things did not go well on Monday. She knew them and they knew her and replacing her would give this faceless team moving the diamonds more time to endanger lives and prosper from their untraceable scheme. The bureau needed her.

Lee slipped away from the table, leaving her alone. Marc nodded his head in her direction and she returned his acknowledgement with an easy smile. Camille dropped her head as she felt heat swarming through her. He made her body physically react and no man had made her feel so…wanted.
They would figure it out.
She could still feel the warmth from his kiss and she wanted more of his kisses, his lovemaking. Derek’s firm warning and Ron’s betrayal made fully pursuing Marc detrimental to her career and her heart.

Camille raised her head to find him unmoved. She watched as his humorous expression, no doubt due to her blushing, disappeared. Marc’s face appeared chiseled in stone as his chin lowered, making him peer in her direction over his brows.

“Hey, beautiful,”

“Hey, you…now don't you clean up nicely.” Camille stood and accepted the soft peck Talib placed on her cheek. ”And you smell good, too.”

He laughed, shaking his head and reaching for her hand, “Camille, Camille you are something.” He let his lips lightly brush the back of her hand. Continuing to hold it, he stood back assessing her from the top of her head to her sling-back stilettos. He stopped, holding her stare. She found herself lost in his dark brown eyes. There was an ease between them that she couldn't explain. His edge made his sexy as hell…and dangerous.

She glanced over his shoulder. Marc was gone. Camille's eye swept the banquet hall, but she didn't see him.

“Would you like a drink?” Talib asked, holding out her chair.

“Yes, please, a glass of Montrachet.” She sat and watched him walk toward the open bar.

She couldn't catch a break, well, actually she had. Her meeting with Saul granted her access to the records she'd sought for two long years. Together they reviewed several dozen files. He wanted to go over the records of shipments and payments. Camille wanted to kiss him for giving her exactly what she needed. A few of the files mirrored the records she received on the locket. She assisted Saul and planned to go back to the office and make copies. She considered asking Lee to handle it earlier, but she couldn't think of a good reason to make the request.

“What exactly are we looking for?” she asked Saul. He wanted to compile a list of sizable transactions covering the past six weeks. They completed the task, giving her a list of six leads. Once they finished, she told him she would return the files.

Since tomorrow was Saturday, Camille planned to go by the office in the morning. She scanned the room looking for Marc, but still did not find him.

“Looking for your date?” Talib passed a glass to Camille and took the unoccupied chair next to her.

“Huh, yeah, you see him?”

“I thought I saw him walk out the room.” He tossed his thumb in the direction of the entry doors.

“Really?”

“Is that your boyfriend?” He sipped his drink and relaxed in his chair.

She felt his undivided attention. His clean-shaven head and strong jaw line made for a handsome specimen. She would enjoy his company, knowing that the unanswered question hanging between her and the men in her life would soon end.

“No, and where is your date?”

He smiled showing his beautiful white teeth. “No date, and I only know you, so you're stuck with me.”

They laughed and she could feel the relaxing effect of him and the wine settle over her.

“Would you like to dance?”

Camille finished her drink and took his outreached hand, “I would love to.”

Ashanta woke and searched the nightstand for something to drink. She reached for the plastic cup that sat nearby and sighed as the cool water coated her dry throat. She looked around the room and noticed that she was no longer in the hospital, but she did not recognize the room. It was nicely decorated. A chaise lounge on the far wall was covered with material matching the comforter tucked securely around her body. She pushed her body upright. It felt like she'd been asleep for days.

She heard her stomach grumble…and she was hungry. She’d find food and then figure out where she was and what happened to Camille.

The door opened and to her surprise, he walked in. “You're awake.” The joy in D’s voice felt false.

Ashanta pushed her hands against the mattress, trying to add some separation between them. She found her back nearly flush with the headboard.

“I'm sure you're hungry, I'll call the nurse and have her prepare you some dinner. In the meantime, we need to talk.”

She remained silent. She tried to look out the window.
Where was she
? It had to be a house because the furniture was casual and the decor screamed “priceless” from the porcelain vase on the handcrafted wall table to the colorful artwork adorning the walls around her.

“You're in my home,” D answered, reading her thoughts. He walked to the table on the far wall and picked up the receiver. She was dressed in a white gown. Ashanta looked around for her clothes, but the impeccable room did not divulge its secrets. She would search the closet and drawers once he left. The phone sat upon a dark cherry wood table and it gave her hope. She would listen to him and use the phone to call Camille. As he turned and faced the bed, Ashanta flinched at the coldness his eyes held. She would hold her tongue, but she had to find her clothes and get away from him. They tried to kill her once.

“What's going through that pretty little head of yours?” He walked toward the bed and placed a finger beneath her chin, turning her face to him. She jerked her head away from his grip, but he tightened his hold by clamping his hand across her mouth and pressing her back against the bed. She tried to scream, but it escaped as a faint muffle against the weight of his hand. “I've saved you once, but if you get in my way I won't spare your life again.”

He removed his grip and stepped back. Ashanta scurried to sit up in the bed. She remembered him carrying her out of her condo. She watched him closely as he tugged at his shirt and tightened his tie. She knew Talib was involved with D keeping her.

“Now that you get the point, I need you to tell me everything,” he coaxed, sitting at the foot of the bed. “Starting with what you shared with Camille.”

* * *

Marc left the banquet hall after watching Talib escort Camille back to a table. She had a lazy smile on her face as Talib talked close to her ear. Her head tilted back, laughing, as her hand rested on her chest. The soft glow from the candle flames reflecting off her sparkling jewels.