His Diamond Queen (interracial rom) *excerpt only*

Chapters 1-4

Chapter One

Never trust a man with a neck tattoo.

Rachelle Silva stared at the tall, muscular man standing just outside the security checkpoint of­ the busy Las Vegas airport. She and her best friend often joked about that whenever they saw guys like him proudly displaying their ink.

It didn't seem like much of a joke now.

Granted, the tattoo only tapered up the side of his neck, but it was enough to make his presence more intimidating.

Rachelle let her gaze travel down the length of him. He was big, his body corded with muscles, but not so much that it made him look ridiculous. In fact, his bulk was proportionate to his height. His shoulders were wide, stretching his black t-shirt, and defining every dip and curve of his well-built torso. His thick arms bunched as he held up a sign with her name displayed on it, which only made the tattoo on his left arm that more prominent. The dark Celtic lines started just above his wrists, disappeared into the sleeve of his black t-shirt, and reappeared to snake slightly around his broad neck.

With his dark blonde buzz-cut and dark jeans, he looked like he belonged in a nightclub somewhere, tossing out drunks-or at the very least as someone's bodyguard.

She frowned at the thought. No, he couldn't be one of her father's new watchmen. Before she'd been "encouraged" to take the six-month trip to Brazil, she'd talked to her father about putting an end to the constant supervision and "escorts." It had taken some arguing but in the end, her father had reluctantly complied.

This tattooed giant may not be the replacement she'd expected, but he was just her new driver. Nothing more.

Rachelle made her way toward him, shaking her head as she dragged her designer carry-on behind her. Where did Uncle Paolo find this guy?The man wasn't even wearing a suit.

It wasn't often she traveled alone. And being met by a stranger outside of baggage claim was as foreign to her as flying commercial. The whole experience, including her twelve hour flight to Vegas from Brazil, was putting her in a mood. But the investigations into her father's businesses had forced him to keep a low profile and limit his expenditures, so that meant no private jet service-a convenience she was greatly starting to miss.

As she drew near, the man lowered the sign, his movements slow and fluid for such a large man and her steps faltered. For a brief moment, Rachelle contemplated walking right past him, but shook the silly thought away. If her father's long-time friend had sent him then he had to be legit.

His gaze ran down the length of her-from the top of her wild, curly hair, down to her thin, five-inch heels. She was used to guys checking her out, but the way he sized her up suggested he wasn't impressed.

That annoyed her and she didn't know why. She shouldn't care what he, of all people, thought. She knew she looked good.

The closer she got to him, the larger he appeared and she was grateful for her heels, which gave her average five-five frame some height advantage. Yet even with the added length, he was a head taller than her.

She stopped in front of him and her breath caught. Everything about him was intimidating, but she was mesmerized by the bluest eyes she'd ever seen. Eyes as blue and clear as the Brazilian shores. Those sapphire blue eyes were a sharp contrast to his harsh features and the deep scar on his chin. She realized she was staring and swiftly turned away to hide her embarrassment.

"Here you go."

She pulled her bag in front of her and held it out to him. While she waited for him to take hold of the handle, she searched through her shoulder bag for her shades. The afternoon Vegas sun would be high and bright by now.