Feeling more confident he could do it, one way or another, Jordan switched his mind to the business meeting, determined to get through it as fast as possible. Two frustrating hours later he was out of it, trying to call Ivy again. No answer. He called Margaret, needing to know if Ivy had arrived.
‘Yes. About twenty minutes ago. But …’ She left the word hanging, as though in two minds whether to express the thought.
‘But what?’ Jordan pressed, wanting every bit of information he could get about the situation. Forewarned, forearmed.
‘Not that it’s any of my business …’
‘Make it your business, Margaret.’
‘Well, she’s not herself. You know how much I like Ivy and we always have a nice chat. She’s never been uppity or off-putting like some I could mention. I actually look forward to her visits because she’s so nice and natural and funny, and I’m quite sure she enjoys my company, too. But not today. I think something’s upset her. Badly. She declined a cup of coffee and said she’d wait for you out in the pagoda.’
Not in his house. Withdrawing …
‘She didn’t bring in an overnight bag, either,’ Margaret went on worriedly. ‘I checked.’
No intention to stay.
‘And if she’d been happily shopping, which you told me was the plan, I’m sure she would have been all bubbly about what she’d bought. So, since you’ve asked my opinion, I think something’s very wrong, Jordan, and I don’t like it.’
Neither did he.
‘Her phone is switched off. Would you please take your receiver down to the pagoda so I can speak to her?’
‘Okay. Doing it now.’
His whole body was tight with tension as he waited, his mind zapping through an array of opening lines, wanting what might be the most effective one.
‘Hello …’ Her voice was dull, no joy in it.
‘Ivy, Olivia called me,’ he rushed out. ‘She’s very sorry for what she said to you.’
Silence.
Then flatly, ‘I’d rather not discuss it on the phone, Jordan. We’ll talk when you get home. Thank you, Margaret.’
Cut off.
But at least she was waiting for him.
Peak-hour traffic slowed his journey to a crawl. Jordan applied several relaxation techniques to keep tension at bay. Nothing worked. At one of the many red lights delaying his progress, he removed his suit coat and tie, flicked open the top buttons of his shirt and thought about how to get Ivy naked. Bodies spoke a better language than words. The sex between them was still fantastic. She couldn’t deny that.
But it hadn’t stopped her from walking away in the past.
He clamped down on the negative thought. He’d win her over. He’d done it before. He’d do it again. That determination rode with him the rest of the way home.
Margaret intercepted him as he strode through the house to the back terraces. She handed him a tray which held a wine bottle in an ice-bucket, two glasses and a selection of savoury dips and crackers. ‘This might help,’ she said.
‘Thanks, Margaret.’ He took the tray. ‘Ivy still out there?’
‘Hasn’t returned to the house,’ she threw over her shoulder as she moved quickly to open the exit door for him.
‘It’s Olivia’s doing,’ he tossed at her as he passed, too vexed with the situation to accept the blame shooting at him from his housekeeper’s eyes. Damn it all! He’d done the best he could, keeping Ivy away from the gossip-mill of the socialite world, the jealous snipes, the boozy parties, the self-destructive fools who indulged in recreational drugs. He shouldn’t be shot down over his sister’s transgression.
A wave of anger crashed through him.
There was so much good to be had in his world. Hadn’t he shown Ivy that side of it? And he could keep on showing her if she’d just let him. Ending it here and now wasn’t fair. He’d make her see that. Make her feel it!
Ivy had her gaze trained on the brilliant view of Sydney Harbour from her cushioned seat in the pagoda, but the images of boats and white-crested blue water barely impinged on her consciousness. Waiting for Jordan was like being in a suspended state of animation, knowing she couldn’t go back to what they’d had together, yet unable to move forward until after she had laid that out to him.
In a way it was a relief that Olivia had told him about their encounter. At least she wouldn’t have to explain that scene. Whether his sister was sorry or not didn’t matter. It was best to end the relationship anyway.
Footsteps clacking down the path from the pool terrace, fast and purposeful.
It had to be Jordan.
Ivy tensed, feeling the power of the man coming closer and closer. He stepped into the pagoda, carrying a tray of refreshments and a ruthless air of command that instantly sent tingles of alarm down Ivy’s spine. There would be no gracious letting go. Jordan was intent on fighting for what he wanted and exploiting every bit of vulnerability he could use.