Diamond Dreams

A dazzling dynasty

As the only daughter of Southern California’s most famous wine dynasty, Diamond Drake devotes all her waking hours to the family business. Burned by love, she’s not sure she ever wants to fall in love again. But construction millionaire Jackson Wright is sweeping her up in a whirlwind romance. Is he the real thing? Or will the sinfully sexy bachelor prove to be all flash and no substance?

A love that’s her true destiny....

From the moment he sees her, Jackson is dazzled by the stunning, sultry Diamond. He knows it’s dangerous to mix business with pleasure. If only Diamond will say yes to a future glittering with their passion and love....

The sax sizzled from the speakers, wrapping them in a sensual cocoon, a world of their own

It was as if time stopped, along with Diamond’s rational thinking. Because for the life of her, she couldn’t think of anything more logical to do than to kiss those lips, to crush the nipples that were even now hardening at the mere thought of being touched against Jackson’s hard chest.

She took a step.

Jackson’s eyes narrowed as he watched her come closer. He looked at her lips, slightly parted with desire. Wanting him was written all over her face. His message was being proclaimed from an area decidedly lower, by a rapidly increasing bulge in the front of his jeans.

He took a step.

They now stood just inches apart, neither moving, barely breathing. At the risk of having to fire himself for insubordination, Jackson reached out and ran a finger along Diamond’s jawline. His touch was more electric than the guitar that now accompanied the sax. She licked her lips and suppressed a shiver. He watched, wondering how they tasted, those lips, wanting to know how she tasted. Her eyes flickered shut, and then back open, even as her head tilted seemingly of its own accord. To hell with stalking ex-coworkers and iron-clad declarations. He would be a rule-breaker. Thoughts of consequences could come later. Right now all he wanted were her lips. On his. Now! He bent his head down. One more step and the kiss would begin. Just one more step....

Diamond Dreams

Zuri Day

Dear Reader,

I am thrilled to introduce you to the Drakes of California!

When hearing the words wine country, most of us think of Napa Valley. So did I, until visiting Southern California’s vineyards, a beautiful community surrounded by mountains, nestled midway between Los Angeles and San Diego. This picturesque setting (and a few glasses of wine) served to inspire this story about a dynasty using land that has been in the family for almost one hundred years! The Drake Vineyard is approximately sixty miles north of the first California grapes planted at Mission San Diego in 1769.

I love writing about strong women. Diamond Drake is all that and a glass of high-priced brut! She’s used to being in control, which is why her irrepressible attraction to Jackson Wright is so exasperating. But we all know what happens when iron sharpens iron…sparks fly!

So, pour a glass of something delicious…and enjoy!

Zuri Day

To the wine country of Temecula, and especially winemaker David Vergari and media director Linda Kissam of Thornton Winery. The private tour and detail-laden interview were great, the wine…even better! And to my editor, Glenda Howard, who helped make this novel such a pleasure to write. La’Chaim!

To all the readers, far and near,

I raise my glass and toast with cheer!

May your dreams come true, your smile remain,

and your life be as bubbly as a fine champagne!

Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 1

“I’m proud of you, Diamond,” Donald Drake said as he continued to flip through the latest report that she had provided. “The sketches are fantastic, and your attention to detail continues to be impressive. These innovative interior-design ideas are going to make ours one of the best resorts in California.”

“One of the best resorts, period,” Diamond corrected. “I told you that I could do it, Dad. I’m glad you trusted me with such a major aspect of our expansion.” Diamond beamed from her father’s words of praise. She considered herself the ultimate daddy’s girl and never wanted to disappoint. And being the only girl in the family made her quite competitive with her two brothers for their father’s attention.

“I don’t know how much trust had to do with it,” Dexter Drake drawled. Diamond’s always lovable yet sometimes annoying younger brother reared back in his chair and placed his interlocked fingers behind his head. “I think it was all of that whining and begging you did that finally wore him down.”

“I believe the correct verb is negotiated, dear brother. Mine was the best proposal submitted, period.” Even as she said this, Diamond knew that there was a thread of truth to Dexter’s statement. Her older brother, Donovan, handled most of the construction projects and had overseen the first phase of this one. It had taken a lot of research, idea submissions and—okay, maybe a little whining and begging—to convince Donald, the company’s founder, board president and chief operating officer, that when it came to the interior-design work and final stages of construction for Drake Wines Resort & Spa, Diamond was the woman to oversee the job.

Dexter continued his needling. “Was it the best proposal? Or just the only one submitted twenty times?”

“Ha! Come on, Diamond. Fess up,” Donovan said with a chuckle. “You did send that thing in several times.”

“I sent in several addendums to keep everyone up-to-date on the evolving ideas and projections,” Diamond retorted, with a tilt of her chin. “Which you would know, Mr. VP of Sales, if you pulled your head out of the books long enough to see what’s happening with the rest of the company.”

Donovan calmly rubbed his goatee. “I don’t miss a thing that happens around here, baby sis. Believe that.”

“How could you,” Dexter queried, “with those Dumbo-size ears on the side of your head?”

Diamond laughed as Donald frowned. “Watch yourself,” he said, his narrowed eyes fixed on Dexter. “Donovan’s ears are shaped like mine.”

“Dad, I’m not sure that is something I’d be pointing out,” Diamond said, still laughing.

“Sister, it’s something that he has no need to point out.” Dexter’s dark brown eyes twinkled and his brow wriggled as he looked pointedly at his father’s ears and then at the replicas on his big brother.

Donald couldn’t keep the frown on his face any longer. He burst out laughing. It had always been this way among his children: friendly teasing and healthy competition all held together with huge doses of love. From the beginning, he and his stay-at-home wife, Genevieve Drake, had raised their children to be a part of the business and had involved them in every aspect of their award-winning vineyard almost from the time they could walk. And while each person had their specific job title, theirs was a working knowledge of the business as a whole, and they were encouraged to multitask along those lines. This is how Diamond, the director of marketing and public relations, was now overseeing the major expansion project of turning Drake Vineyard into Drake Wines Resort & Spa.

Donovan was the most serious among the siblings, and no one was surprised when he steered the conversation back to business. “Do you believe the job will stay within the latest budget you’ve presented?”

“I’ll have a better answer for you after I meet with the interior designer—” she looked at her watch “—which is happening very shortly. So if there are no more questions, gentlemen, I need to go.”

A few minutes later, Diamond sat at her desk, speaking with her assistant before heading out of the office. “Kat, I’m going to the site to check out the construction, not the candy,” she chided, though a smile belied Diamond’s sternly delivered words. “Man candy” is what Kathleen Fitzpatrick had deemed the construction workers who’d invaded their space. For months, a crew of around fifty men had been hard at work building the five-star facility that upon completion would include restaurants, a bar, lounge, day spa, gym, expanded gift store, executive offices and boutique hotel.

“Besides,” Diamond continued, “I’m not into candy right now. I’m watching my wait, spelled W-A-I-T.” Kathleen fixed Diamond with a chagrined look. “I’m just not ready to jump back into the dating game.” She reached for a batch of drawings and placed them in her briefcase. “And even if I were…there’s no time for that. Duty continuously calls.”

“Pretty good speech but that’s hogwash and you know it.” At fifty-six years old, Kathleen was not only Diamond’s assistant, but sometimes she felt like a second mother to the woman who was twenty-plus years her junior. And after many years as a dedicated Drake employee, she felt comfortable speaking exactly what was on her mind. “It’s been two years, girl. How long are you going to let that jerk of an ex-boyfriend run your life? Oh, my, did I say run? I meant ruin!”

“Ha! Stop exaggerating, Kat, before you set that Irish blood to boiling. My ex, whose name is no longer worthy of being uttered from my lips, has not ruined my life. He just helped to enhance my search skills and made me very selective. Right now, my man’s first name is Resort and his last name is Spa.”

“Go ahead. Hide behind your pesky professional obligations.”

“You call a thirty-million-dollar renovation pesky? You go, girl!”

“But just remember,” Kat continued, not missing a beat or taking the bait. “You’re not getting any younger. You may have pushed it to the back of your mind, but I remember a young woman who not so long ago was eagerly looking forward to marriage and motherhood. The right man to make that happen is still out there.”

“Amid the glass, bricks and plywood that currently litter our vineyard?”

“No, sweetie, perhaps amid the blood, sweat and mass of muscles moving that stuff around! I’m not saying you should marry one of the workers, but you should at least take a look. I have and let me tell you…there’s some honeys in the bunch.”

Diamond’s phone rang. It was just as well that the conversation end and that she take her mind off men—her sore spot—and put it back on work—her salvation. Besides, when it came to those particular M&Ms—men and marriage—there was no use arguing with her trusty assistant. Kathleen had wed at eighteen and borne five children. In her mind one hadn’t lived until they’d snagged a man, had a child, adopted a dog and got a house surrounded by a white picket fence. She’d been married longer than Diamond had been alive. So when it came to heartbreak and breakups, what did she know?

“That was the designer,” Diamond said after completing the call. “She’s at the site. I’ll be back in less than an hour.”

The clicking of Diamond’s four-inch heels punctuated the air as she walked to her parking space. She unlocked the door of her shiny sports coupe and slid inside. Belatedly realizing that the heat index in sunny Temecula, California, had risen, she shed her suit jacket, grabbed a pen in the cup holder and hastily placed her shoulder-length dark auburn hair into a chignon. The construction site was less than a mile away from Drake Wines’ executive offices. As she drove down the picturesque lane lined with colorful maple trees boasting red, orange and yellow leaves in the autumn sun, Diamond knew her focus should be on windows, tiles and color swatches and making sure that every aspect of the job to which she’d been entrusted was being executed to perfection. Instead, it was on man candy.

Chapter 2

Jackson “Boss” Wright leaned back in his large black executive chair with a satisfied smile. He and his team had done it again—outsmarted and outbid the big boys. Boss Construction had just won a lucrative contract for a downtown development in Chicago, Illinois. He couldn’t wait to sit down with his team and fine-tune the plans, but first he needed to fly to Chicago for another meeting with the executives behind this combination shopping mall and office complex that would include a soaring edifice rivaling the Willis Tower. Jackson turned on his electronic calendar even as he reached for the speaker button on his office phone. At the same time, his office door opened and his assistant walked in. She was not smiling.

“We got another one,” she said without preamble.

Jackson heaved a heavy sigh. Without asking, he knew what she meant. “Let me see it.”

Marissa Hayes, Jackson’s loyal assistant of six years, approached his desk, her outstretched hand containing a single sheet of paper. Jackson scanned it quickly. The note was short and succinct—as had been all the others.

The bigger they are, the harder they fall. You think you’ve gotten pretty big, huh? Mr. Big-Time Construction, Mr. Millionaire Business Owner. Enjoy it while you can. Because your days at the top are numbered…just like the days of your life.

Jackson casually tossed the piece of paper aside. He remained purposefully nonchalant, not wanting to upset Marissa more than this and the previous letters already had. “This is, what, the third or fourth one?”

“Fifth,” Marissa somberly responded.

“Place it in the file with the others.” Jackson scrolled the electronic calendar with his finger. “I need you to schedule meetings with all relevant parties of the Chicago project, including the mayor, if he’s available. Then book a flight for the evening before.”

“Returning when?”

“Either the evening of the last meeting or, if it’s a dinner meeting, the next day’s first flight.” Jackson placed his iPad aside and walked over to a drafting table.

“So that’s it?”

“What else is there? You already know to book me at the Ritz-Carlton Chicago, rent the car from—”

“Not the trip, Boss. I’m talking about the letter.”

“What about it?”

“How long are you going to let these threats come before you do something about it?”

“What do you propose I do?”

Marissa worked hard not to let the exasperation she felt come out in her voice. “Call the police, hire an investigator, I don’t know…but something!” So much for masking frustration. Even a blind man could have seen her chagrin.

Jackson noted the fear in Marissa’s eyes. He didn’t share it, but he didn’t blame her. The first letter had arrived approximately two months ago, right after he’d ended a short-term affair. To say that the woman had been less than pleased was putting it mildly. She’d all but told him—in fact, she’d actually told him—that he’d regret the day he let her go. At first, he’d thought the letters were from her. But then again, it could be a former worker or subcontractor. He’d had to fire a few bad apples over the years. Maybe someone was still smarting from their termination—or being left off a job. He’d even considered the competition he’d beat out for the past few contracts. While the idea seemed highly unlikely, the construction business was a very competitive one. Boss Construction had landed several sweet deals in the past five years, outmaneuvering some pretty heavy hitters along the way. When billions of dollars were at stake and the national economy still shaky at best, who knew what companies were capable of? And finally there was Marissa’s observation: that the letters began arriving shortly after he’d been featured in Black Enterprise magazine. The article, not to mention the accompanying photos, had resulted in a deluge of extra publicity—and fan mail. Maybe someone from his past had read it. Maybe someone from the life and the lifestyle he’d worked so hard to leave behind was trying to drag him back into it. But he wondered who would want to do that. And why? He’d left his old life more than a decade ago. Jackson wasn’t so much concerned for himself as he was for those around him. For the first time, he fully acknowledged the potential extent of the threats. Damage could not only be done to him but to anyone in his offices. Marissa was right. It was time to take action.

“Call Abe,” Jackson said, removing his jacket as he walked toward the walk-in closet at the back of the room. Abe Swartz was not only Jackson’s attorney but a longtime friend. “Tell him we need a private investigator.”

“Should I tell him why?” Marissa asked.

“Yes.”

A moment later, Jackson stepped out of his office dressed in jeans, a T-shirt and work boots.

Marissa smiled as she eyed her supervisor’s confident strides. She knew this routine. Jackson played the tough guy, and he was a typical alpha male. But he also had a huge heart, one that worried about those around him, those for whom he felt personally responsible. The anonymous threats were bothering him more than he let on. “Going to burn off some nervous energy?”

Jackson stopped at the outer office door, his hand on the knob. “Nervous? Do I look nervous? I’m going to engage in one of my favorite pastimes…working alongside my men.”

Chapter 3

Man candy. These were the words that came to mind as soon as she saw him. They’d exited a small building and now stood outside. Who is he? quickly followed that thought. As Diamond and the interior-design team had walked the floors of what would become the freestanding wine shop, she’d casually eyed the hardworking men. A couple she’d seen were buffed and toned, but others had average bodies and equally average looks. One or two had smiled and waved, but none had dared approach her. She’d smiled when she saw one worker nudge another after he’d surreptitiously winked at her. She figured her brothers had been their usually overprotective selves, warning the men to stay away from their little sister—no matter that she was the middle child or that said “little” sister stood five foot nine in stocking feet, with a full Beyoncé-like build and curves in all the right places. Growing up, she’d gone toe-to-toe with her brothers more than once, and until height and muscle replaced scraped knees and baby teeth, she’d pretty much held her own. Yet when it came to her and the opposite sex, the Drake line of defense was legendary. Every man she’d dated since the age of sixteen had come under intense and biased scrutiny. But she wasn’t interested in dating.

No interest. Too busy. I’m hardly even aware of these sweaty, shirtless, sexy men. Or of the gorgeous man now eyeing her openly. Yeah. Right. And Mona Lisa was a man.

“Jackson Wright,” Taylor said, when she noticed her last two sentences spoken to Diamond had gone unheard. There was a reason Taylor Stevens was one of the country’s top interior designers. She had an uncanny eye for detail that missed nothing.

“I’m sorry?”

“The man you’re totally aware of while trying hard to act as though you’re not noticing him? His name is Jackson Wright.”

Diamond tried for a quick recovery. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“If you mean you don’t know about the stone foyer I was speaking of, you’re right. Or the major design change I just mentioned. You haven’t heard a word I’ve said. But don’t worry. It’s totally understandable. The first time I saw him my reaction was the same. But fair warning. I’ve heard that he’s known for leaving women speechless and taking their breath away…among other things.”

Other things like what? Heart, soul, virginity? Diamond did not voice these questions. She didn’t want to appear interested in something that for her held absolutely no interest. Like human gods and whatnot. Diamond’s appearances in and around the construction site had been rare. But one thing was for sure: she’d never seen this god, uh, guy before. He had a face—not to mention a body—that one would not forget.

She shifted her eyes away from the tall, commanding stranger. It was the only way she could refocus on the task at hand. What is he…six-three, six-four? She frowned, surprised that her thoughts had not shifted along with her body. So much for out of sight, out of mind. In less than two minutes, this man had gotten under her skin, and truth be told…Diamond wanted to get under him.

This surprised her. Diamond Nicole Drake was a strong, powerful woman, healthy enough but not normally given to forceful, almost primal, sexual urges. She knew how to focus; discombobulated would rarely if ever be used to describe her. As a high-powered executive in the multimillion-dollar dynasty her dad had created, she was a woman used to being in control and demanding respect. Well, she wanted to demand something, all right, and didn’t care if it seemed the least bit disrespectful: a little rendezvous with Mr. Muscles. Private meeting. After hours. She’d even pay overtime.

Get it together, sistah! Why was she acting like she’d never seen a handsome man before? She had three of those in her immediate family. She’d grown up with fine men and dated them, too. Something about this construction worker unnerved her, and she wasn’t exactly sure how she felt about it. What she did know for sure was that nothing was going to take her focus off of making Drake Wines the chic, upscale resort she’d envisioned. And speaking of visions, the one just over Taylor’s shoulder was exactly what Diamond needed to bring her mind back to the singularly important task at hand—work.

With eyes still on the scene across what would become the resort courtyard, Diamond spoke to Taylor. “I’ll be right back.” Her long strides quickly ate up the distance between her and the group of men lounging on the ground. One was playing a video game, another two were checking out a sports magazine while a fourth was busy texting away. While still a couple yards away, she demanded, “What’s going on here?” The men looked up, but before any of them could speak she looked at her watch and continued. “It’s two o’clock in the afternoon, way past lunchtime. And you’re reading magazines and playing video games?” She pushed her sunglasses from her face to the top of her head. “Really? Are you serious?”

“Diamond, we—”

“Do I know you?” Diamond asked the man who’d been texting on his cell phone. “Because in the workplace, unless otherwise specifically indicated, I am addressed as Ms. Drake.”

Mr. Sports Illustrated tried next. “Ms. Drake, we—”

She held up her hand, deflecting further comment. “Never mind with the excuses. Where is your boss?”

Mr. Video Game pointed behind her. “He’s right there.”

Diamond turned, took one step and ran into a wall—otherwise known as the chest of Jackson Wright.

“Whoa!” Jackson reached out to steady a stumbling Diamond.

“Aw!” Diamond fell into Jackson’s arms. Is it me, or did the earth just quake?

Later, Diamond would wonder about the tangible jolt of electricity that raced up her spine before coursing through her nether parts. But she gave no thought to that as she quickly put distance between herself and Jackson.

“Is there a problem?” Jackson asked, removing the large hand from around the soft arm he’d just steadied and crossing his arms over a massive chest.

“I’d say that’s obvious,” Diamond answered, crossing her arms, as well. “Your men are slacking on the job, and that is totally unacceptable.”

“My men,” Jackson began, his voice low and firm, “are on their lunch hour.”

Diamond raised a skeptical brow. “At two in the afternoon?”

“That’s right. We knew that Taylor would be conducting a walk-through and wanted to get to a certain point in the work before we stopped. And since these men will also be working past their usual cutoff time, this later lunch will help them get through what for some will be a twelve-hour day.” Diamond’s chin rose a notch as she continued to look at one of the most amazing examples of mankind she’d ever seen in life.

“They work very hard.” Jackson’s eyes narrowed as he awaited an answer—correction: an apology.

Diamond offered a different point of view. “How hard they’ve worked will be determined during the walk-through. And late lunch or not, playing video games and reading magazines on the job is not a good look.”

“With all due respect, when on their lunch hour, my men can do whatever they want as long as it’s legal.”

When it came to the vineyard, it was a rare moment that someone challenged Diamond unless their last name was Drake. And when it came to nerve, Diamond realized that the man standing in front of her had plenty of it. And so did she, which was why he was going to get a serious piece of her mind. But realizing there was an avidly interested audience listening on, she decided now was not the time. Taking a deep, calming breath, she responded, “You may be over these men, but I am over this project. My name is—”

“I know who you are, Ms. Drake. And I also know California labor laws. That’s part of my job.” He extended his hand. “I’m Jackson Wright. The—”

“I know who you are,” Diamond interrupted, paying him back for not letting her finish. She knew it was childish, unprofessional and something she’d probably not even do with her irksome brothers, but she seemed unable to stop this man from pushing her buttons. “You’re the supervisor. Listen, I need to walk the site, but I’d like for you to call my assistant and set up a time to meet as soon as possible. There are some things we need to discuss.”

Diamond started to walk around Jackson, but he fell into step beside her. “We’ll make the appointment, but I’d actually like to handle the first part of the walk-through.”

Diamond stopped. “Why?”

“To explain some of the technical aspects of the electrical installations, as well as share some thoughts I have for the restaurant and lounge atriums.”

The last thing Diamond wanted was to spend additional time with Jackson Wright. His authoritative audacity intrigued her even as it irritated her. He had her thinking and feeling things she’d locked down deep.

And then fate intervened.