The #1 Bestsellers Collection 2011(179)

He took in the luxury living space sprawling in front of him in a study of silver, white and pinks. Definitely a woman’s domain. No question, it was stylish and high-end, but not a place where he could see himself relaxing. He had a quick mental flash of his own childhood home, as swank as the Garrison complex …

But a hell of a lot warmer.

Jordan brushed aside thoughts that didn’t change a thing about his path with this woman. If he let Brooke see the slightest chink in his resolve, they would be toast. Even now, he could tell from the brace of her shoulders and the way she chucked her purse onto the sofa, tension still lingered.

He closed the distance between them and rested his hands on her shoulders. He responded to the feel of her beneath his hands. His body aroused in mere seconds any time he got near her these days. But, yeah, she was definitely tense.

Jordan rubbed his thumbs along the kinked muscles in her neck, considering all the ways a man could help a woman relieve this kind of stress. The possibilities tantalized. “Are you going to tell me what’s going on with the silent treatment, or do I have to start playing twenty questions?”

He leaned to kiss the nape of her neck, taking his time to absorb the scent of her. She swayed toward him with a whisper of a moan. Then he could almost feel the return of her resolve starch up her straightening spine.

She shrugged off his hands and turned on her heel, her Garrison chin firmly set for battle. “Is it true what my brother said back at the house, right after your fight? Did you sleep with me just to gain a deeper toehold in the Garrison empire? Did you try to get me pregnant on purpose?”

Crap. She’d overheard? Jordan clenched his jaw, then winced at the stab of pain. He hoped Parker was enjoying at least a couple of bruised ribs.

“Ah, the whole Garrison-Jefferies rivalry.” He considered the best way to reassure her. She likely wouldn’t believe an outright denial anyway. And to be truthful, in the past, he’d done anything possible to get the inside track on Garrison, Incorporated. Anything to get ahead. “It’s a reality we both have to deal with. Isn’t that why you slept with me? To piss off your family? What better way to strike back at big brother Parker and your mother.”

“How can you think that?” Her brown eyes went wide, then definitely glinted with guilt.

He reminded himself of her pale face and kept his own stirring anger in check. “For the very same reason you believe the only reason I’m with you is to gain access to your family’s stock.”

Sure, a union   between them made good business sense. But he also couldn’t miss that the more time he spent with Brooke, the less he thought about corporations. The apartment dates, with just the two of them, had given him far more insight about her than twice as many outings in a distracting public crowd could have.

Pointedly, he held her gaze until finally she looked down and away, striding toward the kitchen in an obvious move to avoid him. “We don’t have much reason to trust each other, do we?”

He watched her walk, the gentle sway of her hips beneath the dark clingy fabric, the hint of bare calf at the slit of her hem. His mind mentally traveled up that patch of skin to silky thigh.

“I guess not.” Following her, he lounged in the archway linking the kitchen to the dining area, trying to hang on to the conversation long enough to address her fears about him. “How do we get past that?”

“More dating?” She pulled out a large bottled water from the refrigerator and filled two crystal glasses. “Time.”

“Exactly.” He’d solidified his point about dating. Apparently he’d done well enough in hiding his own restlessness. And since he didn’t want to let on that his thoughts kept straying to her possible choice of lingerie tonight, he distracted himself with figuring out what it was about this place and her mother’s home that bugged him.

He took the glasses from her, returned to the living room and set their drinks on the coffee table. “How about we start small tonight?”

“What do you mean?” She eyed him suspiciously.

“Let’s sit.” He would make her more comfortable by connecting with her the best way he knew how. Their words might do battle, but the heat between them had always been in perfect harmony.

Warily, she perched on the edge of the overstuffed white sofa. “Okay? What now?”

“Do you trust me with your feet?”

“That’s a strange question.”

Kneeling in front of her, he pulled off her shoes and tossed the high heels under the coffee table. He sat on the sofa and swung her legs onto his lap, gripping her feet in his hands. He kept his eyes off the way her hem hitched higher, knowing he’d never survive this if he continued torturing himself with thoughts of undressing her. Instead, his thumbs worked a gentle massage along the arch of her instep.