Australia: Wicked Mistresses(76)

Nick gazed at her unrepentant. Surely she didn’t think this was just about sex, did she? His plan was to get her to himself for a while, away from the hotel room and the constant worry of discovery. He wanted to see if they clicked outside of the bedroom as well as they did in.

Anyway, this wasn’t his fault. If she hadn’t been adamant her runaway was here, they could have started for home two hours ago.

Jordan turned fully to face him, something close to a pout on her lovely mouth. “And if I have plans for the evening?”

“Then he’s going to be disappointed,” he said evenly, absorbing the jolt he always got when she looked at him face on and close. The shape of her brows provided a perfect frame for those gorgeous almond-shaped blue eyes. Her luscious mouth with the prominent bow in the center just begged to be kissed. Beauty was in the eye of the beholder, he knew, and for Nick, he could never tire of looking at her face.

His body, too, rarely escaped the knowledge without a reaction of some kind. His mouth dried, his stomach muscles tensed. Every nerve ending sent an “I want” message to his brain.

“I didn’t bring anything with me,” she said curtly. “Clothes. Toothbrush.”

“There are spare toiletries on board. As for clothes…” His gaze swept over her white top and long white shorts and sneakers. It was too late for them, streaked with dirt and plant matter. His own weren’t much better. “I think there are robes in the bathrooms,” he said innocently. Clothes were optional for what he had in mind…

Her eyes narrowed as if she read the path of his thoughts. “Well, that’s worked out nicely for you, hasn’t it?”

She was right, it had all worked out perfectly. The missing girl situation was an unexpected stroke of luck.

Still, he didn’t want her sulking all night. “We’d have finished exploring the gardens two hours ago—plenty of time to make it home before dark—if we weren’t looking for your friend,” he reminded her. “Jordan, you have options. There’s enough food and wine for dinner, I think. And there are two cabins on board, as I’m sure you noticed.”

Nick wanted this chance for her to get to know him. It would take a major leap of trust for her to consider a public relationship with him while her father was ill. But if she thought he was really into her…Randall and Syrius had to be persuaded that further offenses would hurt their children.

As he watched her struggle with the desire to keep a cool distance between them, Nick knew he was getting under her skin. She could dictate the time frame and boundaries—to a point—but he would use the irresistible sexual connection between them to achieve his goal.





Nine


They searched the house once more, then locked up and walked back down the jetty to the boat. Jordan rubbed her arms briskly. “I hate to think about her all alone out here.”

“If she’s here, she’ll know we’re looking for her,” Nick reassured her. They’d yelled themselves hoarse. “She’ll come down to the boat when she gets cold or hungry.”

Together they prepared a salad and the leftovers of their lunch. Nick had brought pre-baked rolls which they warmed up in the small oven in the galley. He opened the wine, his eyes following Jordan as she moved around setting utensils and crockery on the table, lighting candles. He wanted her more with each passing second, but tonight was going to be her call all the way.

The meal was simple, enhanced by the wine and the candles she’d lit. The reheated blackberry tart tasted even better than at lunch. They got through it all with an easy rapport, the wine mellowing her initial reticence.

“This is a novel experience,” he commented as they finished. “Sitting across a table from you, eating and talking.”

“We did that at lunchtime,” she reminded him.

Nick pushed his dessert plate aside. “Will your father be in court on Monday?”

“If the doctor is happy.” Jordan paused then rolled her eyes resignedly. “I spoke to him yesterday and he was looking forward to it.”

“You know he’s going to lose, don’t you?” He wasn’t being confrontational. There was little doubt about it.

Jordan nodded. “We’ve all told him but he’s too stubborn to accept it.”

“What’s he like?”

She smiled fondly. “Impossible. Everything is black or white with him. He has an opinion on everything and I don’t think he has ever been persuaded to change it, even in the face of irrefutable evidence.”

“And you’re crazy about him.” Nick wondered if one day her eyes would mist with emotion for him.

“There’s being crazy about him and there’s driving me crazy.”

Their eyes and smiles met and tangled but curiously, every time they did, Jordan would take a sip of wine. Her nervousness was unexpected.

She sat across from him in a decidedly grubby top, her ponytail slipping and a twig in her hair. Used to seeing her light up the tabloids in designer clothing that flattered her magnificent body—or alternatively, naked on Fridays—Nick warmed at the sight of her. The sparkle in her eyes could be put down to the wine or candlelight, but he hoped he may have contributed there in some small way.

Operation Jordan was under way. “It must have been unreal growing up in that mansion as an only child.” The Lake mansion in Kelburn was infamous for its grandeur.

Jordan relaxed back into her seat. “I think there was a friend roster. I don’t recall being lonely at all.”

“Spoiled rotten,” Nick grinned. “The biggest and best birthday parties…” The ostentatious celebrations were legendary in Wellington society.

“They were insane! Clowns, animals, costumes, so much cake and sweet stuff that we’d all get hyper…the tantrums when it was all over!” She gave a mock shudder. “My poor mother. I’d make myself physically sick with the excitement of it all!”

Jordan picked up her glass again. He was going to have to carry her to bed at this rate.

He stood, picked up the bottle and topped her glass off, smiling at her. While he was there, he pulled gently at the twig tangled in her hair, handed it to her and then went back to his seat.

“It’s interesting,” he said as he sat. “You have the whole world at your beck and call and yet you hide behind some foundation, too scared to show yourself. You don’t want anyone to know that you have values and talent.”

“I know I have those,” she said, lifting her shoulders in a careless shrug, “but it’s the money that makes the difference, that differentiates me from anyone else.”

Nick laughed. “I must be wearing rose-colored glasses then because from where I sit, I see something else entirely.”

Jordan didn’t respond, toying with the twig he’d handed her.

But Nick was interested. She seemed to have everything a young woman could want. What was she afraid of? “Gorgeous,” he began, smiling again when she frowned, “Talented as I can attest to, having seen some of your art…”

“Drawings,” she interjected.

“Art,” Nick went on, heedless. “Proactive—you’re doing something that makes a difference to a lot of people.”

“Lots of people do that…” She snapped the twig in half and laid it on the table, looking at it as if it personally offended her.

“Probably, but they don’t hide it. Did I mention creative? That ball the other night was a work of art, if I’m any judge of things.”

“You think putting on a party makes you an artist?” she asked innocently, but sarcasm laced her tone.

“Don’t knock it. People go to college to learn that stuff. The skills required get you a diploma. You just get on with it and make it happen.”

“Because of my money.” She insisted, nodding vigorously. “Do you honestly think I would have put together that ball without my father’s influence and contacts?”

She sat back as if she’d won the argument.

“The difference, Jordan, between you and most rich people is that you use your money, you do something useful with it.”

“Oh, I’ve frittered away a lifetime of money, believe me.”

“I believe you,” he said, grining, “but take some credit for making up for it now.”

“What was your childhood like?” she asked, twisting the stem of her glass, moving the focus from her.

“Pretty normal. School. Rugby. Sailing. A few family holidays.”

“Were you close?”

Nick had no complaints about his upbringing. “Adam and I were—are—I suppose. Mom and Dad—we got on all right. They weren’t very demonstrative and they were always so busy with their respective careers. Dad liked to pit me and Adam against each other all the time. Everything was always a competition.” He rolled his eyes. “Still is, far as Dad’s concerned.”

“Who won?”

“It was about sixty-forty. I was bigger but preferred negotiation. Adam liked to pretend he was David to my Goliath.”

Her smile faded as she gazed into his eyes over the candlelight. Nick nearly groaned aloud. She was killing him here, so damn beautiful, so desirable. The sexual chemistry between them was a palpable pull, one he wasn’t used to tamping down. That was the main disadvantage of starting as they had started—having to exercise self-control.