The #1 Bestsellers Collection 2011(204)
He wanted to find Brooke and hear about her visit to the doctor. He’d tried to call her, but she wasn’t picking up her phone.
He glanced at his clock again. What was keeping her? Memories of that terrible night in the E.R. tormented him. He shoved up from his chair, ready to start checking the roads if she didn’t show up soon. Maybe he’d misunderstood her earlier, and she’d simply gone to his house.
Jordan reached for the phone to call his housekeeper just as the door began to open.
Relief socked him. Dead center. “Brooke—”
Except the woman in the doorway wasn’t the mother of his child. Instead, he found the last person he expected—or wanted—to see right now.
His ex-lover, Sheila McKay.
He put up his guard as fast as he rose to his feet. She’d been persistent the past few weeks, trying to get in touch with him. Apparently she didn’t accept rejection easily. “Sheila, my assistant shouldn’t have let you up here.”
He’d tried to be calm and civil when he’d stopped dating Sheila over six months ago, but she’d continually attempted to jump-start their relationship. Shortly after he had broken up with her, she’d taken a job as a receptionist at Garrison Inc.—and promptly worked to lure him back with valuable insider information.
Sheila sashayed into his work area on spiky high heels. “Your assistant must be taking a coffee break, because I didn’t see anyone except a few whistling construction workers.”
How in the world had he ever found this conceited woman attractive? Her blond hair, blue eyes and Playboy bunny history didn’t matter. She paled in comparison to Brooke.
He glanced at his watch pointedly. “This isn’t a good time. I’m on my way out. I’ll escort you to your car.”
Sheila perched a hip on his desk, unmistakably encroaching on his personal space. “It’ll be worth your while to wait. I have some pretty interesting inside scoop from the Garrison camp on some stock purchasing plans.”
There had been a time he and Emilio accepted any tidbits on the Garrisons she offered. That time had passed. He’d promised Brooke honesty and he meant to follow through on that vow.
He thought he’d been clear with Sheila in their last phone conversation that they were done. And when she’d persisted by leaving messages, he’d made his point again with silence. Apparently subtlety didn’t work with her. “Sheila, I’m not in the market for any information you have about the Garrisons. If you’ve even glanced at the newspapers, you know I’m committed to Brooke now. Besides, any relationship you and I had ended months ago.”
“Oh, that’s right.” She shrugged her long hair over her shoulder. “You have your own in with that family now.”
His jaw tightened over the notion of gossip like that upsetting Brooke. “Watch yourself, Sheila. You’re overstepping.”
He rounded the desk, set on ushering Sheila out—and away from his files—on his way down to the car. “I need to get home to Brooke. She had a visit to the doctor today, and I want to hear how it went.”
Sheila stepped in front of him, blocking the pathway to the door. “It must be tough for you, having her on bed rest.”
Why hadn’t he seen through this woman from the start? An image of them as a couple flashed through his mind. He winced inwardly at the memory of himself then, the kind of man who didn’t always take the time to see beyond the surface when it came to bed partners.
Then nearly six months ago, Brooke had blazed into his life with so much more than surface attraction. The heat had transformed him into something different, someone he liked a whole lot more. That knowledge made it ridiculously easy to push this superficially beautiful woman away from him. “It’s tougher for her with the cabin fever, which is why I’m leaving now.”
“I imagine a strong man like you is experiencing a different fever altogether.” Her painted lips curved in a knowing smile.
Enough wasting time. He cut straight to the chase. “Sheila, I’m committed to making a future with Brooke and our child.”
“So? I’m not looking for a serious relationship. That doesn’t mean we can’t have fun.” She reached to cup his neck. “You look like you need to let go and relax.”
Her touch left him cold. No surprise. He gripped her arms, ready to move her gently, but firmly, away. “Sheila, it’s time for you to go—”
A gasp stopped him midsentence.
Damn it. He knew before he looked. Brooke had made it back from her appointment.
Tears clouding her vision, Brooke jabbed the elevator’s down button again and again. Sure, it didn’t make the thing arrive any faster, but the action provided an outlet for her anger—and disillusionment.