“Then wait for her to be alone. Only an idiot confronts Ericks,” Diar insisted. Mitch ground his teeth as he studied the handsome guy next to Jess. Ericks was dressed in an eye-catching gothic-style tuxedo and was noticeable from a distance. Everyone was in no doubt that Leon Ericks was among them.
Ericks stood with his hand loosely on Jess’s hip as several people spoke around him. Although they were part of the group, Ericks and Jess seemed aloof and paid them no attention. Mitch could sense the powerful influence coming off Ericks; it was much like his own. Ericks and Mitch both eluded power, but they didn’t wield it like a club hammer.
Ericks bent his head and murmured in Jess’s ear, and she laughed softly. Mitch ground his teeth; Jess looked beautiful and clearly able to hold her own in company like this.
“Did you have any idea she knew him?” Diar asked.
“No. I have to wonder if she was a gold-digger after all. Look at her. How much was that dress, would you say?”
“That has to be at least one hundred k. Lorelai only dresses for the super-rich,” Diar whispered. “Could she afford that on her own?”
“No. And she’s wearing five million pounds around her neck alone,” Mitch muttered.
“What?” Diar asked.
“That necklace set. It’s from Elysian Dreams, a one-off. That was valued at nine million for the set. It sold two years ago, and it’s not been seen since,” Mitch explained. His gut was turning itself inside out.
Jess wore the dress and diamonds as if she were born to them. She was at ease with the elite of society. The woman who’dsailed Loch Ness and stated she hated jellied eels was nowhere in existence. Mitch’s eyes narrowed as Jess turned to Ericks and placed a hand on his arm before whispering something in his ear.
Before he or Diar realised it, Mitch was across the room and in front of Jess and Ericks. Diar released a low groan but backed him up. Ericks raised an imperious eyebrow as Mitch joined their circle.
Jess glanced at him, then turned white. Her hand gripped Leon’s arm tighter, and Leon’s hand tightened around Jess’s waist.
“Can I help you, gentlemen?” Ericks asked.
“I’m Diarmad McDonald of the Aisling Hotel Chain,” Diar introduced himself. “This is my friend, Mitch.”
“Just Mitch?” Ericks challenged, and someone in the group tittered. Ericks sent them a look that made them quickly subside.
“Mitchum McQuoid. I own the Elysian Memories Jewellery franchise. Clearly, you’re familiar with my designs.” Mitch nodded at the necklace around Jess’s throat.
“A beautiful piece of work,” Ericks murmured, his eyes narrowed. “It enhances the beauty of the wearer.”
“Indeed,” Mitch ground out. Jess flinched.
“I was planning to look you up,” Ericks said, turning to Diar, who looked surprised.
“Oh?”
“Yes, there’s a penthouse in one of your hotels I wish to acquire. Tonight isn’t the place to talk business. Jess, give Diarmad one of my personal cards, darling,” Ericks ordered, and his eyes flickered back to Mitch.
Mitch nearly lost his temper as Jess dug in her purse for a card and gave it to Diar. What stopped him was the almost minuscule movement from her. Mitch would swear shejust pinched Leon on his arm as a warning. That spoke of a familiarity that went beyond what he and Jess had experienced.
“Have you ever been to Loch Ness?” Mitch inquired, and Jess flinched imperceptibly.
“Can’t say I’ve had the pleasure, although Jess owns a cottage there, don’t you, darling?” Ericks asked.
“Yes, on the shore,” Jess replied.
“Nessie hunting, McQuoid?” someone sneered. Mitch turned and spotted an old rival, Haughton.
“Why not? I’d not only be famous for my jewellery but as the man who captured Nessie!” Mitch retorted, and Haughton subsided. That was a slap he couldn’t recover from. It was well known that Haughton wanted the number one spot, but Mitch was firmly entrenched in that place.
“Ho. Do I perceive professional rivalry, gentlemen?” Ericks asked, appearing coldly amused.
“Not on my behalf,” Mitch replied. Diar made a hissing noise, and Mitch allowed a small smile to cross his face.
Haughton reacted to Mitch’s burn and excused himself.
