The Platinum Collection: A Diamond Deal: The Flaw in His Diamond / The Purest of Diamonds? / In the Brazilian's Debt
in to your home? Or, please don’t deport me from the island?’ His voice was wholly mocking.
‘Both,’ she managed, angry at his tone.
‘Begging now, Ms Skavanga?’
‘Hardly. I’m merely appealing to your better nature.’ She raised a brow as she spoke, as if to say she realised now how unlikely it would be that he had one.
He might have expected a trespasser to be mortified to have been caught out, or to beseech him with pleading in her voice, and maybe even a few crocodile tears thrown in, all that was reflected in Eva’s face was challenge. So much hung on this meeting with him, according to her, so couldn’t she even manage a climb down this time? Of course she couldn’t. It wasn’t in her nature. And that was half her appeal, he realised. ‘You have a very high opinion of yourself, Ms Skavanga.’
For the first time her gaze flickered. It reinforced his opinion that beneath the braggadocio she was insecure.
* * *
Eva shifted uneasily from foot to foot. In her world she was confident, because people knew her and knew what to expect. She was never intentionally rude to anyone. She was just forceful. At least, that was how she liked to think of it.
Guilt flashed into her mind as she remembered the much-regretted argument with her sister.
And sometimes she was just plain rude, she accepted, but now she must keep the count listening long enough to convince him that the reason she was here overrode anything she might have done to see him. Extracting diamonds from the Skavanga mine at any cost couldn’t be right. But his expression suggested she would have to eat some humble pie, or there’d be no discussion.
‘I’m sorry,’ she managed to grind out. ‘I realise we’ve made a bad start.’
‘You have,’ he agreed.
DID THIS MAN get some sort of kick out of humiliating her? Eva wondered as she stood tense and angry by the side of the count’s fabulous pool. She might have learned a lesson in where being reckless led, but she wasn’t about to back down. ‘If it hadn’t been for you accelerating work at the mine, I wouldn’t be here.’
‘Is that what you call recovering the situation, Ms Skavanga? I think you’d better follow me into the house. I’ll decide what to do with you when you’ve had a chance to shower and change into some fresh clothes.’
The last thing she had expected was that he would invite her into his home. ‘Thank you,’ she managed awkwardly.
‘Don’t thank me, Ms Skavanga. Just think of yourself as an inconvenience I don’t intend to suffer much longer. And when I march you out of here, you stay off my property for good. Is that understood?’
Anger flashed through her as the count turned away and started to walk towards the house. She had to stop herself saying something she’d regret. If her concerns for the drilling hadn’t been hanging over her— If the survival of the mine hadn’t been largely dependent on this man—
‘Do you understand?’ he called out.
‘Yes,’ she fired back, scowling.
‘And while you are a guest in my house there will be no door slamming—no temper tantrums of any kind. Do I make myself clear, Ms Skavanga?’
‘Perfectly.’ He was remembering that time at Britt’s wedding when her body had reacted just as violently to him as it was doing now, and because she was so shocked by her response to him she had slammed the door in his face. She’d felt feminine at Britt’s wedding for about five minutes, but the count had changed all that. Fairy-tale bridesmaid into dowdy country bumpkin in no time flat.
‘Please follow me into the house, Ms Skavanga.’
She could play it tough with the guys back home, because they knew her and she knew them, but the count didn’t have the slightest interest in her as a woman, or as a companion. She should be pleased. No. She should be relieved. But being rejected as unfit for purpose wasn’t great.
But if that was how it was going to be, she would keep everything on a business footing. Catching up with him at the door, she offered him her hand. ‘Eva Skavanga—’
He ignored the gesture.
Swallowing her pride, she tried again. ‘I didn’t expect for us to—’
‘Meet like this?’ he interrupted, hostility rippling off him in big, ugly waves. ‘Who would?’
Hostile was far too mild a word to describe the count. And, yes, she’d trespassed on his land, but was that a hanging offence? She’d taken a swim in his pool, but so what? What was the big deal? What was riding the count? What was his problem?
The count exuded power and menace and sex, in more or less equal quantities, and admittedly that was fascinating, but it was also intimidating and she had shivers running up and down her spine. But at least she had accomplished something, if only the fact that she had tracked him down.
‘Well, at least we’re standing face to face,’ she said as he opened the door to the palazzo.
‘Is that meant to be funny, Ms Skavanga?’
‘No. It’s merely a statement of fact.’
‘Well, here’s another fact. Your intrusion in my home is not welcome, and as soon as it can be arranged—’
She pre-empted him. ‘As soon as we’ve talked, I’ll go.’
‘Go where?’ he said, standing back to let her go through the doorway. ‘You really haven’t thought this through, have you? You rushed here to confront me, without any thought at all, because you’ll stop at nothing to get your own way at the mine.’
‘Do you blame me when you will never agree to see me? I had to come here. You might not care about Skavanga or the people who live there, but I do. All that’s at stake for you is your money.’
‘So pumping in my money to keep the town and mine alive, saving people’s jobs along the way, means nothing to you?’
‘You’ll just leave us with a desolate site when you’ve taken what you want.’
‘You don’t know what you’re talking about, Ms Skavanga. Now are you coming inside or not?’
She couldn’t risk alienating him. Had she forgotten that?
He led the intruder across his spacious orangerie at a rate of knots. He didn’t welcome unexpected visitors to his sanctuary on the island, least of all trouble-making girls with an agenda.
‘I’m not a whinger or a troublemaker,’ she shouted after him. ‘I’m simply concerned about the speed of your drilling programme.’
He stopped dead. ‘Do you have an alternative suggestion, Ms Skavanga?’
She almost cannoned into him.
‘Maybe...’ Her cheeks flushed red when she realised how close she’d come to touching him. ‘I don’t have an engineering background like you,’ she admitted, surprising him with the speed of her recovery. He was also surprised she had done her research. ‘I don’t have as many academic qualifications, either,’ she added, ‘but I do have local knowledge.’
And a good degree, he remembered, wondering why she had never used it.
‘Let me reassure you, Ms Skavanga, that the finest minds have assembled to make this project a success.’
‘The finest minds, maybe,’ she agreed, growing heated. ‘But no one local is involved at a decision-making level, so you run the risk of applying the wrong criteria to your thinking.’
‘What about your sister, Britt?’
‘Britt