Apparently he was more intuitive than she’d given him credit for.
“The same could be said for you.” Okay, so perhaps her pride stung at the fact he hadn’t gone out of his way to pursue her.
“I called you.”
“A week later.” There went her pride again.
He set her shoe down, his eyes narrowing with a predatory gleam. “You tell me to stay away, and I’m supposed to ignore what you say? Does that mean when you say you won’t marry me, I’m supposed to ignore that, too?”
He was a wily one. No wonder her oldest brother said Jordan made such a fearsome adversary in the boardroom. Which brought up yet another complication since the baby’s father just happened to want a toehold in her family’s company. Marrying her would give him that connection to the Garrison business he’d always craved.
God, she hated the path her mind was taking. But damn it, he was the one who’d said they could merge corporations. If that didn’t give a woman the right to be leery, she didn’t know what would.
“Don’t be obtuse, Jordan. I won’t marry you. We don’t know anything important about each other as people, anything outside the bedroom.” Don’t go there with the thoughts. “To base a marriage on a brittle foundation of sex and mutual business interests would be catastrophic and horribly unfair to our child.”
“All right then.” He smiled—wow, how he smiled. He shoved away from the desk and strode toward her. “Let’s get to know each other better. For our child. We’re going to be linked by this kid for the rest of our lives. It’s the Christmas season. Let’s celebrate and use this time to build a stronger foundation.”
“That sounds logical.” If she knew him better, then she could better judge his motivations for wanting to be a part of her life as well as the baby’s.
“Good, good.” He nodded as he walked by her, past the Christmas tree.
No kiss? No more trying to persuade her to marry him? That was it?
“Jordan?”
She eyed him warily as he strode toward the door, paused and glanced back over his shoulder.
“I’ll pick you up at eight tonight for our date.” The door clicked closed behind him.
Date?
She’d thought they were going to get to know each other, as in meet at the lawyer’s office to draw up visitation agreements, perhaps have coffee afterwards. But dating?
She’d just been royally maneuvered, and she wouldn’t give over complete control that easily. Yes, she could see how dating would be a good idea, however, she resented the way he assumed she would fall in line with his plans. She didn’t want the world to know about them yet, damn it.
Time to show Jordan Jefferies that while she might be the quiet Garrison, she had every bit as much determination as the rest.
When it came to how they would get to know each other, she could make plans of her own.
At six-thirty that evening, Brooke pulled her BMW convertible past a row of palm trees and a hibiscus hedge into the side parking lot of the Hotel Victoria—eight impressive floors of brass and glass set on the South Beach shore.
The construction workers should be gone for the evening. She knew from casual conversations with Emilio that Jordan had opened an office in a completed suite where he could oversee the last stages of finishing the hotel, and he always stayed late. The place was his well-known pet project of Jefferies Brothers, Incorporated’s many holdings. So he would undoubtedly want to spend every free moment overseeing the construction.
She’d worn sunglasses in hopes of keeping a low profile. It helped that no one would expect to find a Garrison here. The world could know about her relationship with Jordan when she was good and ready.
Now she just had to get past security.
Brooke flipped open her cell phone and punched in Jordan’s private number he’d given her five months ago, a number she’d almost used at least a hundred times. The ringing stopped.
“Jordan?”
“Brooke, you’re not backing out.”
“Who says I’m breaking the date?” she retorted. He thought he knew her. She would enjoy surprising him. “I’m downstairs.”
“Down where?”
“Outside your place. At the Hotel Victoria. Could you please tell your security guy to let me up?”
His two-beat hesitation offered the only sign she’d shocked him. “I’ll be down in less than a minute.”
Sure enough, before she could step out of her car, Jordan pushed through the back entrance toward her. She tugged the picnic basket with her and slammed the car door.
His steps faltered briefly, his gaze hooking on her Little Red Riding Hood basket. “I made dinner reservations for eight-thirty.”