A Lot Like Love(17)

"Why wait until then?" Xander pulled out his cell phone. "I can have us booked first-class in two minutes."

She laughed. As if she could drop everything right then and hop on a plane. "I wish it were that easy." She grabbed a couple bottles of the pinot and carried them to a bin near the front of the store.

"Jordan."

The serious tone in Xander's voice stopped her. She looked over her shoulder and saw that he had the oddest expression on his face.

"Is something wrong?" she asked.

Just then, Martin strolled into the room, having finished checking inventory in the cellar. "I think we should order another case of the Zulu. People have been going crazy for South African wines-oh, Mr. Eckhart, I didn't realize you'd stopped in." He paused and looked between them. "Am I interrupting something?"

Jordan thought she saw a flash of irritation in Xander's eyes. But then it was gone, and she assumed she'd imagined it. Xander liked talking to Martin; the two of them had very similar tastes in wine. She saw no reason why he would be bothered by her store manager's presence.

Xander waved off the question. "No interruption. Just enjoying this new pinot." He gestured to his glass. "What's the price point?"

"Thirty dollars a bottle." Jordan continued to watch for any sign of the tension she'd seen on his face a moment ago. But there was nothing-he appeared as relaxed as always.

"I might have to start carrying it in my restaurants," he said.

The three of them discussed the wine's Robert Parker rating, and Martin's belief that it had been unfairly undervalued because of Parker's preference for big, bold reds. Shortly after that, Xander had left and Jordan didn't give a second thought to that one odd moment.

But now, with the advantage of hindsight, she perhaps had a different take on the conversation.

Now, she couldn't help but wonder if Xander had been interested in more than a new pinot that day. She'd assumed he'd been joking about the trip to Napa, but maybe not. Shortly after that conversation, Kyle had been arrested, and her life had fallen into complete chaos. She'd dropped out of the social scene and had taken a break from dating.



       
         
       
        

Perhaps Xander had been lying in wait since then. Holding off for a more appropriate time to reveal his feelings. Like tonight, with his "Homage to Jordan" wine list.

She locked eyes with Nick.

"We . . . may have a problem."





Ten



A PROBLEM.

Not the words Nick wanted to hear right then. No agent in the middle of an undercover assignment wanted to hear those words.

He smiled politely at Rafe. "Could you excuse us for a moment? I need to have a word with my date."

Without further ado, he took Jordan by the hand and pulled her off to the side of the room. He braced one hand on the wall next to her and peered down into her eyes. "Honey, before we came to this party, you might've mentioned that the host had the hots for you."

She stared back up at him, not looking particularly intimidated. In eleven years of law enforcement, Nick had made many a suspect sweat under the duress of what he knew was an impressive don't-fuck-with-me face, yet she didn't so much as bat an eye. Granted, none of those suspects had been wearing a knockout dress with a slit nearly down to the ass, so perhaps the don't-fuck-with-me face wasn't in top form right then.

"I didn't know myself, darling," she said. "And we still don't know that for sure. But let's say for argument's sake that Xander has more than a professional interest in me. Will that be a problem for you?"

Her words were careful and well chosen. To anyone who might be listening, it would seem as though she was merely placating a jealous lover, not an FBI agent who was a little cranky to be first learning of this development in the midst of an undercover op.

"I can handle it." In some senses, Nick supposed, Eckhart's attraction to Jordan could be a good thing. He doubted she would have much trouble convincing him to step away with her for a drink. Still, he was eager to keep things moving. They needed to mingle. Drink some wine. Plant a few wireless recording devices. The usual social obligations.

"We should rejoin the others," he said.

"Wait." Jordan put her hand on his arm, stopping him before he turned away. Her eyes were clouded with concern. "I'm sorry if I put you in an awkward position tonight. I honestly didn't know until I saw the wine list."

She looked so genuinely troubled right then, Nick couldn't help what he did next. He reached out and touched her chin. "Don't worry, Rhodes. I've got this." He grinned. "I think there's a glass of wine with your name on it at the bar."

"For five thousand dollars a head, there better be a lot more than one." 

"Now I see why no one drives to this party." He took Jordan by the hand, turned around, and-

-Nearly ran into Xander Eckhart, host of the party and Nick's target for the evening.

"I always thought it's because parking is a bitch around here," Xander said in response to Nick's comment. Despite his light tone, his eyes were cold as he stuck out his hand. "Xander Eckhart."

Nick shook his hand, squeezing a little harder than was necessary. "Nick Stanton."

"I see you're here with Jordan."

"I am."

Jordan moved to his side. "Xander, I wondered when we'd see you. You've outdone yourself tonight, as always."

Xander broke the stare down with Nick long enough to turn his attention to Jordan. He took in her appearance. "As have you, Jordan. I'm flattered you made it. I know you've been keeping a low profile because of everything that happened with your brother. In fact, I was surprised when my secretary told me that you called this week to add a guest to your RSVP. I didn't realize you were seeing anyone."

Nick linked his fingers through Jordan's. "The late RSVP was my fault. I had originally made plans to be out of town this weekend. But when I realized it was Valentine's Day, I rescheduled my trip to be with Jordan. Couldn't miss out on the most romantic night of the year, could I?"

"Yes, that would've been a real shame," Xander said dryly.

"Nick and I were just discussing the wines on the tasting menu," Jordan interjected. "It looks to be a fantastic night."

"I suppose you could say that I'd been hoping to make a memorable impression this Valentine's Day. Certain recent developments, however, make me wonder if I've overshot a little." Xander gestured between them. "So I'd love to hear how you two met."

"At Jordan's store," Nick said.

"Oh, are you a wine man, Nick?"

"Can't say I am. I know white and red."

Jordan winked at him. "And now pink."

Nick smiled. True. "And now pink."

Xander looked between them. Whatever he saw, he didn't seem to like it.

"Will I sound overeager if I say I can't wait to see what you have in the cellar?" Jordan asked Eckhart. "You're always full of surprises, Xander."

Nick had to admit he was impressed. Not too many civilians could pull off acting this naturally in an undercover job, particularly in front of someone they knew was laundering money for a drug cartel.

Her suggestion worked like a charm.

"Who am I to make such a beautiful woman wait?" Xander gestured to an open door on the opposite end of the wine bar. "I'll take you down there myself. Follow me."





ECKHART LED THEM through the door and down a freestanding glass staircase. "Since this is your first time, Nick, I'll give you the fifty-cent tour."

Actually, the FBI had already paid five thousand dollars for that privilege. "I appreciate that, Xander."

"Given the value of my collection, I normally keep that door upstairs locked," Xander told him. "But I trust my guests tonight. Most of them, anyway. And with the others, I trust the six-foot-five, two-hundred-and-fifty-pound security guard I've got stationed downstairs."

As they descended into the lower level, Nick quickly understood the reasons for Eckhart's security system. He'd studied the blueprints of the building, and had been aware that the wine cellar took up a large portion of the space. But neither the blueprints nor Jordan's descriptions had prepared him for the sheer magnitude of the wine cellar he faced now. Or rather, the wine cellars.



       
         
       
        

They stood before three rectangular glass chambers, each approximately twenty-five feet long and ten feet wide. Through the floor-to-ceiling glass panels, Nick saw rows upon rows of what he knew, through Huxley's report, to be over six thousand bottles of wine stacked horizontally on slotted ebony wood shelves. Glass doors, several inches thick and flanked by elaborate security panels, guarded each of the three chambers of the cellar.

"Reds; whites; champagne and dessert wines," Xander said, pointing out the three chambers of the cellar. "Different storage temperatures for each, obviously."

Obviously.

"Over three million dollars in wine," Xander continued, making no attempt to disguise his pride. "Granted, a lot of that is for the restaurant. My own personal collection is worth roughly a million."