Mister Diamond

My father and I have never seen eye to eye.

He still blames me for my mother’s death during my birth.

He’s the quintessential tough Russian father.

That’s one of the reasons I’m so happy to be in America.

Until I find out he just arranged my marriage to one of our country’s richest heiresses.

Valentina.

I don’t even like the sound of her name.

When I meet her it will be even worse.

I know it.

I’m practically forced to buy her an engagement ring, so I dutifully go to Tiffany’s and buy the best one I can find.

She sends it back.

I buy another. And another.

All returned.

I’m really beginning to hate this bride to be.

But there’s a girl behind the counter at Tiffany’s.

Gemma.

An American.

Every time I see her, she makes me smile.

She also makes my heart pound, my pulse race, and my … how you say? ... *weapon* get hard as Russian steel.

I can’t stop thinking about her.

And getting her to help me pick out diamond after diamond for this spoiled Russian princess is driving me crazy.

I want Gemma with a passion that’s making me consider taking some very drastic steps.

And believe me, when a Russian says drastic, he means all night, torn bed sheets, covered in sweat, make her scream my name like a banshee drastic.