detailed pieces of jewelry, advance samples of tomorrow’s product launch. For a timeless moment the room and the nervy anticipation dissolved and she was drawn into the fascinating juxtaposition of lucent tourmaline and smoothly worked gold.
She wasn’t a designer. When it came to creating art or beautiful jewelry, she was utterly clueless. Her passion had always been the business side of things. Her father used to jokingly proclaim that she had the heart of a shopkeeper. It was a fact that she was never happier than when she was making a sale.
A faint tingling at her nape made her stiffen.
A glimpse of broad shoulders increased her tension.
If that was Constantine, then he had crossed the room, which meant he had seen her.
“Sienna. Glad you could make it.”
She saw taut cheekbones and a tough jaw, but it wasn’t Constantine. It was his younger brother, Lucas.
With his slightly battered features, courtesy of two seasons of professional rugby in Australia, and his smoldering bad-boy looks, he was undoubtedly hot.
Lucas had once tried to date Carla. Fatally, he had made his move after Constantine had walked out on Sienna and before Lucas had realized the wedding was off. Carla, who was loyal to a fault, had taken no prisoners and the public spat at a fabulous new nightclub had become the stuff of legend.
Magazines had lined up for the short time both Ambrosi girls had hit the publicity limelight, although Carla had handled the attention a lot better than Sienna. With her PR mind-set she had decided to view the fight with Lucas as a gold-plated opportunity to boost Ambrosi Pearls’ profile, and thanks to her, orders had flooded in.
“You know me, Lucas.” She checked out the last place she had seen Constantine. “Gold, jewels, objets d’art. I couldn’t resist.”
“You look like one of Constantine’s objets d’art yourself.”
Sienna countered his comment with a direct look. The dress she wore was sexier and more revealing than anything she would normally have worn to a business occasion, but in this case it was warranted. The gown had been used in their latest advertising campaign. Harold Northcliffe, who should have received the glossy press kit she had expressed to his Sydney office, would instantly recognize it. The jewelry itself was a set of prototypes they had designed with de Vries and the sophisticated European market in mind. “If you want to score points off me, Lucas, you’re going to have to try harder than that. The dress belongs to Carla.”
The amusement flashed out of his dark gaze. “It was the jewelry that really caught my eye.”
“I didn’t know you were interested in jewelry design.” Lucas was known as The Atraeus Group’s “hatchet man.” His reputation was based more on corporate raiding than the creative arts.
“Not normally,” he murmured, an odd note in his voice, “but I’m certain Constantine will be. When I first saw you I thought you were wearing a traditional set of Medinian bridal jewels. Quite a publicity stunt considering that you used to be engaged to Constantine.”
Dismayed, Sienna touched the pearls at her throat. The pieces she was wearing were based on her grandfather Sebastien’s original drawings. The delicate choker consisted of seed pearls woven into classical Medinian motifs, with a deep blue teardrop sapphire suspended from the center. Matching earrings with tiny drop sapphires dangled from her ears, and an intricate pearl bracelet studded with sapphires encircled her wrist.
“Speaking of the devil,” Lucas murmured, looking directly over her shoulder.
A hot tingle ran down Sienna’s spine. The knowledge that Constantine was directly behind her and closing in was so intense that for a moment she couldn’t breathe.
Even though she was prepared, the confrontation was a shock. Dressed in a formal black evening suit, Constantine seemed taller, physically broader and, in that first moment, coldly remote. Although the impression of
She wasn’t a designer. When it came to creating art or beautiful jewelry, she was utterly clueless. Her passion had always been the business side of things. Her father used to jokingly proclaim that she had the heart of a shopkeeper. It was a fact that she was never happier than when she was making a sale.
A faint tingling at her nape made her stiffen.
A glimpse of broad shoulders increased her tension.
If that was Constantine, then he had crossed the room, which meant he had seen her.
“Sienna. Glad you could make it.”
She saw taut cheekbones and a tough jaw, but it wasn’t Constantine. It was his younger brother, Lucas.
With his slightly battered features, courtesy of two seasons of professional rugby in Australia, and his smoldering bad-boy looks, he was undoubtedly hot.
Lucas had once tried to date Carla. Fatally, he had made his move after Constantine had walked out on Sienna and before Lucas had realized the wedding was off. Carla, who was loyal to a fault, had taken no prisoners and the public spat at a fabulous new nightclub had become the stuff of legend.
Magazines had lined up for the short time both Ambrosi girls had hit the publicity limelight, although Carla had handled the attention a lot better than Sienna. With her PR mind-set she had decided to view the fight with Lucas as a gold-plated opportunity to boost Ambrosi Pearls’ profile, and thanks to her, orders had flooded in.
“You know me, Lucas.” She checked out the last place she had seen Constantine. “Gold, jewels, objets d’art. I couldn’t resist.”
“You look like one of Constantine’s objets d’art yourself.”
Sienna countered his comment with a direct look. The dress she wore was sexier and more revealing than anything she would normally have worn to a business occasion, but in this case it was warranted. The gown had been used in their latest advertising campaign. Harold Northcliffe, who should have received the glossy press kit she had expressed to his Sydney office, would instantly recognize it. The jewelry itself was a set of prototypes they had designed with de Vries and the sophisticated European market in mind. “If you want to score points off me, Lucas, you’re going to have to try harder than that. The dress belongs to Carla.”
The amusement flashed out of his dark gaze. “It was the jewelry that really caught my eye.”
“I didn’t know you were interested in jewelry design.” Lucas was known as The Atraeus Group’s “hatchet man.” His reputation was based more on corporate raiding than the creative arts.
“Not normally,” he murmured, an odd note in his voice, “but I’m certain Constantine will be. When I first saw you I thought you were wearing a traditional set of Medinian bridal jewels. Quite a publicity stunt considering that you used to be engaged to Constantine.”
Dismayed, Sienna touched the pearls at her throat. The pieces she was wearing were based on her grandfather Sebastien’s original drawings. The delicate choker consisted of seed pearls woven into classical Medinian motifs, with a deep blue teardrop sapphire suspended from the center. Matching earrings with tiny drop sapphires dangled from her ears, and an intricate pearl bracelet studded with sapphires encircled her wrist.
“Speaking of the devil,” Lucas murmured, looking directly over her shoulder.
A hot tingle ran down Sienna’s spine. The knowledge that Constantine was directly behind her and closing in was so intense that for a moment she couldn’t breathe.
Even though she was prepared, the confrontation was a shock. Dressed in a formal black evening suit, Constantine seemed taller, physically broader and, in that first moment, coldly remote. Although the impression of
Similar Books
