“Reeves…?”
She wanted him to say that it was all right, that he understood. Instead she watched as his eyes, which had been lit up with laughter, turn icy. His mouth thinned into a grim line as he stood there and stared at her.
Nervously she licked her lips and said, “I…I have to go. He… Maybe sometime tonight I’ll be able to talk to him. I…”
“Never mind, Jordan. It doesn’t matter,” he said in a cold, hard voice. “I understand perfectly.” His tone indicated that he didn’t understand at all. He was furious. The tight set of his facial muscles testified to that.
Henri stepped forward and bowed slightly. “Mr. Grant, I’m to take you to Mr. Eckherdt’s offices as soon as I’ve dropped Mrs. Hadlock at her apartment.”
“No thank you, Henri,” Reeves said, declining the offer. He wasn’t looking at the chauffeur, however. He was still glaring at Jordan. “I always make my own decisions.”
Without another word, but with a scathing look at Jordan, he stalked away through the stragglers, who were trying to get to the ferry before it was launched again.
CHAPTER 6
The evening dragged on interminably. The dinner party was hosted by a businessman from Stockholm and his wife. Only two other couples besides Jordan and Helmut had been invited. It was touted as a social occasion, but business was the underlying reason for the gathering.
As soon as dinner was concluded in one of the private dining rooms of the Palace Hotel, the group retired to their hosts’ suite, where the men sat around a game table and discussed a merger proposition. The women, having nothing in common—not even a language—sat in a small cluster on the formal furniture and tried not to bore each other to death. Jordan had a rudimentary knowledge of German, which the other women spoke, but some of the nuances of the conversation eluded her. It didn’t really bother her. Her mind wasn’t on the dull conversation anyway.
By the time Helmut finally shook hands all around and prepared to leave, Jordan didn’t think she could have stood one more minute in the room. Helmut’s varied business pursuits didn’t interest her. Strange that she had urged Reeves to talk about his career this afternoon on the ferry. Wanting to share his experiences with him, she had clung to every word.
Now she was bored, tired, cranky—and abysmally miserable whenever she thought about the angry stride with which Reeves had stalked away from her.
She wavered between disappointment and fury. The time they had spent together on the mountaintop and on the ferry had been enchanting. Admittedly, she had regretted that this special day couldn’t have carried over into the evening. She couldn’t deny that Reeves Grant stirred her, shook her reserve, made her more vulnerable than any other man ever had.
But it was that very susceptibility to him that made him dangerous. Already he was assuming a dominance over her. Hadn’t he expected her to break her date with Helmut? At Reeves’s whim was she supposed to tell Helmut that she wasn’t going to have dinner with him when he had already accepted the invitation on her behalf?
She was angry, but the direction of her anger was hard to pinpoint. Was she angry at Helmut for decreeing a command performance? Or was she mad at Reeves for presuming that he had any right to be possessive of her time? Or was she angry at herself for suddenly becoming a pawn for two very determined, headstrong men—something she had averred she would never be again? Not even for love!
In the elevator Helmut expounded upon the pros and cons of the possible merger, and she thought she might very well start screaming if he didn’t shut up. What did she care about the business transaction? It meant nothing to her or her life. Up until a few days ago, she had lived tranquilly with very few hurdles in her way. Now it seemed that her world had turned upside down. Nothing was stable anymore. Everything was unclear. Her decisions weren’t concrete. Her life had been plunged into chaos ever since the emergence of Reeves Grant into it.
Helmut ushered her out of the elevator as it came to a silent stop on the lobby floor of the hotel. He was helping her with her wrap when she saw the man and woman come through the wide front doors.
The woman was in her mid-twenties, red-haired, svelte, and gorgeous. Her long, slender legs were encased—shockingly so—in tight green satin pants. A loose, blousy sequin top of the same color dipped decidedly low over her pert breasts.
Tacky, Jordan thought. Yes, definitely tacky and tasteless.
Reeves, on the other hand, looked wonderful. He wore gray flannel slacks and a navy blue blazer. His white silk shirt was opened down to the middle of his chest. Black Bally loafers peeked shinily from beneath the crease of his trousers. He was expensively dressed, but with enough casualness to say, I don’t give a damn about Old World tradition.