by Nina Singh
She immediately countered that statement with a vehement shake of her head, her thick, wavy hair bouncing around her shoulders. “You haven’t. Not in the least.”
There it was. The unwavering faith she had in him. All these weeks she’d been showing him that faith in so many different ways, both big and small. He’d just been too blind to see it until it was almost too late.
“But I don’t think I can do any of it without you,” he admitted. “I know it’s a lot to ask.”
She surprised him by planting a full, hard kiss on his lips. He immediately reacted by pulling her even closer. A hairsbreadth separated them.
“Oh, Jordan. I’m so glad that you’re asking it of me.”
He dropped a kiss to the top of her head. “Who else would I ask it of? But the woman I seem to have fallen in love with.”
* * *
Jess wanted to stop time, to somehow make this moment last for all eternity. She settled deeper into Jordan’s embrace. If it was up to her, she’d ask that he never let go.
His words from a moment ago echoed through her head. He wanted her by his side as he navigated the challenges of parenthood. Only her.
He’d fallen in love with her.
And she’d been falling for him since the day she’d thrown a wet paintbrush at his silk white shirt.
They stood that way for several minutes, the analog clock on the wall behind them loudly ticking away the time. Finally, the pinging sound of an incoming text on his phone broke the silence. Jordan looked at the screen and a small chuckle escaped his lips.
“What is it?”
“A reminder from my little sister.”
“About?”
“I promised her I’d make a stop at Bimby’s for some ice cream on the way home. Guess I better not keep her waiting.” Before he got far, his gaze suddenly dropped to the sketch pad that had been sitting on the coffee table the whole time. Jess had forgotten all about where she’d dropped it upon discovering Jordan at her door.
Jordan picked it up and studied it. “Is that...?”
“It’s the photograph from your apartment,” Jess admitted with no small amount of apprehension. There was a chance Jordan wouldn’t appreciate what she’d drawn. He might even feel resentful. Well, there was no turning back now.
“I sketched it for you. To give you when the time was right.” Only she’d foolishly left it lying around so now the decision was out of her hands.
He rubbed a finger down along the paper as if outlining the image. “I don’t know what to say.”
“Please know that I wasn’t invading your privacy that day. I was just looking for something to sketch with and I came across the photograph.”
He didn’t look up from the pad for several moments, and the blood turned cold in her veins. If he was upset with her for drawing it, her heart might shatter in her chest.
“I’m glad you did,” he finally said.
Jess blew out the breath she’d been holding in relief. “You are?”
“Yes. But what compelled you to do this?”
There was no real good way to explain. She took a deep breath, grasping for the right words. “I felt like I knew you better once I saw that photograph. Does that make any sense?”
The way his eyes searched her face gave her the answer to that question. She tried again. “That photo manages to capture who you were as a boy. Your hopes for the future are almost written right there in the way you look at the camera. But when I look at it closely, I can also see the man that boy becomes. With all his strengths and all his weaknesses. It’s all there, in the set of your features, the expression on your face, the look in your eyes. I saw the man I was falling in love with when I found the photo that day.”
His response was another lingering kiss that set her skin on fire. “That’s amazing,” he whispered against her lips afterward.
It took a moment for her to find her voice. “I don’t know about that. It’s just what I see. I had to re-create it on paper.”
“You’re pretty amazing yourself, Jess.”
She didn’t allow herself to dwell on the compliment. She didn’t feel amazing. Some sketches simply came easier than others. “It’s just a simple pencil sketching.”
“I mean more than your artistic talent. I mean the way you paint elaborate castles on walls for children you haven’t even met yet. The way you delight in watching a theater production but your immediate thought is that you want your young students to be able to watch it also. The way you take time out of your weekend to help your boss with her budget woes. Not to mention the way you seem to have found your way into my heart when it was the last thing I was expecting.”
Jess felt the sting of joyful tears behind her eyes. He really did see all that in her. The knowledge served to finally break the guarded walls she’d built around her heart all these years.
“The sketch is yours if you want it,” she offered once she found her voice.
He stepped closer to her and cupped her chin in his palm, then lifted her face to his. “I want it.”
Jess willed her knees to keep from buckling underneath her.
“And I want this,” he added, then placed another kiss on her lips. This time it was the faintest brush of contact. It was just enough to take her breath away.
EPILOGUE
THE AIR WAS definitely chillier than the last time they’d been up here. But Jess didn’t mind the cold. She was right where she wanted to be at this moment—atop Jordan’s building once more, watching the breathtaking New York skyline. The weather wasn’t the only thing that was different since that fateful summer night he’d first brought her up here. Everything had changed. In ways she could have only dreamed of.
“Cold?” Jordan asked behind her. He held her tight against him, her back to his chest as they admired the view.
“Maybe just a little,” she admitted, snuggling just a bit tighter against his length.
“I’ll just have to see what I can do about that,” he teased, trailing his lips softly down the side of her neck. His kisses immediately had the desired effect. Her blood heated in her veins.
“That definitely warmed me up, Mr. Paydan.”
“But you’re still shivering. I guess I better get started, then.” He spoke against her ear, his breath warm against her cheek.
“Started?”
“I brought you up here for a reason.” Jess felt him reach inside his pocket. She shifted to turn and face him.
“More than just to admire the beautiful view?”
“Yes, there’s more.” He handed her a square cardboard box with delicate gold trim decorating each corner. “I also wanted to give you this.” Jess uncovered the lid to find a playbill inside.
“Are we going to see another show?”
He nodded. “Not just us.”
What was he up to? “I don’t understand.”
“I secured a whole section of seats. For the children and their parents. Whoever wants to attend. You said that day that you wished your students were there to watch the matinee with us.”
He’d remembered that. And all these months later he was giving her that wish. How had she possibly gotten so lucky to have found this man? “Jordan, this is so sweet of you, so thoughtful. I don’t know what to say. Aside from thank you.” Though it seemed hardly adequate. The thought that had gone into his gesture had tears stinging her eyes.
“Consider it an engagement present.”
Jess’s breath caught. Had she just heard him correctly? Between the noise of the wind gusting around them and the sudden pounding of her pulse, it was hard to be sure. Maybe her mind was playing tricks on her, having her imagine that she was hearing things she would be elated to hear.
But then Jordan took a knee and reached for her hand. In his palm, he held another box—this one small, velvet and black. He flipped the cove
r open to reveal a square-cut stone that glimmered like the bright city lights in the distance.
“Jordan?” She barely managed to get his name out. Emotion flooded from her chest down to her very toes.
“Jessalyn Nadia Raffi, would you do me the honor of attending this show as my future wife?”
He’d barely gotten the last word out before she answered him. “Yes!”
And then her voice simply failed her. Her very equilibrium seemed to have fled. She could barely remain upright as time seemed to stop. Jordan took the ring out of the satin cushion and slipped it on her trembling finger. Jess felt as if she was watching a dream play out in the middle of the night.
Then he stood and took her lips with his own. And she knew all her dreams had just come true.
* * *
If you enjoyed this story, check out these other great reads from Nina Singh
Christmas with Her Secret Prince
Tempted by Her Island Millionaire
Reunited with Her Italian Billionaire
Snowed in with the Reluctant Tycoon
All available now!
Keep reading for an excerpt from Second Chance with Her Billionaire by Therese Beharrie.
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Second Chance with Her Billionaire
by Therese Beharrie
CHAPTER ONE
WHEN WYATT MONTGOMERY walked through the door, Summer Bishop took three steps forward and stopped next to the first single man she saw. The man looked over at her, smiled, and she resisted the smile that courted her own lips. He was perfect. About her height, a pleasing enough face, and he wasn’t standing next to anyone else.
He turned then, offering her a glass of champagne from his tray. All desire to smile vanished. The man was a waiter.
Heat crawled up her neck, but she refused the embarrassment. It simply wouldn’t do. Embarrassment wouldn’t get her through this weekend. Though she was sure it would make an appearance, she didn’t have to pay attention to it.
Not when she spoke with her ex-husband. Certainly not when she pretended a man she didn’t know was her date so she could avoid said ex-husband.
Fortunately, Wyatt didn’t know she’d been trying to avoid looking like a lonely loser. Yet when she felt his gaze on her, she could have sworn he did. She took a glass of champagne from the waiter’s tray—why the hell not?—and downed it in one gulp. Then she returned the empty glass to the tray with a quick nod of thanks, before trying to focus on what her parents were saying.
But she couldn’t.
It was as if Wyatt had issued a wordless bet the instant he walked into her parents’ party. Her skin was hot, prickly, as if he knew she was desperately avoiding his gaze and was taunting her from across the room. Look at me, he seemed to be saying to her, stop pretending I’m not here. His voice was annoyingly smooth, even in her thoughts. It reminded her of all the times he’d whispered things in her ear that had—
Don’t you dare, Summer Bishop.
Adhering to the voice in her head that was kindly warning her against drooling over her ex-husband’s seductive prowess, she tried, again, to focus on her parents. They exchanged adoring looks. Told the family and friends who were there to celebrate their vow renewal on their thirtieth wedding anniversary about their love for one another. Their loyalty to one another.
She took a deep breath. Tried to control how the champagne now felt as if it were burning a hole in her stomach.
When that didn’t work, she slipped back, behind the waiter, and then past two more people, then four, until finally she was at the glass sliding doors that led to the patio. Grass stretched out from the end of the patio to the edge of the cliff the lodge had been built on.
Whatever she felt about being forced to attend the weekend celebration for her parents’ anniversary, she couldn’t deny they’d picked an amazing place to have it at. Granted, it was in the small town of Wilderness, six hours away from her home of Cape Town. But the cliff overlooked the most gorgeous beach, with a path a few metres away from her leading down. It was almost worth it.
Summer walked until she could see the white-brown beach sand. It called out to her, the crash of the waves on the shore chiming in. She wished she could answer. Wished she could strip off the dress she’d chosen to wear to the celebration she wanted nothing to do with and walk into the ocean.
She settled for dragging in a full breath of the salty air.
‘Daydreaming of running away?’ a voice came from behind her.
The goosebumps were because of the sea breeze, Summer told herself, before straightening her shoulders and turning.
‘Wyatt,’ she said steadily, as if her insides didn’t feel as though they were disintegrating at the sight of him. ‘How pleasant to see you again.’
Those sensual lips curved into a smile that seemed decidedly feline.
‘Pleasant?’ he repeated, cocking his head.
She tried not to notice how the wind was mussing his hair. Or that the top button of his shirt was open, revealing tantalising brown skin that sent an irrational image of her licking it flashing through her mind.
‘Not quite the word I would use,’ he continued. She stared at him for a second before remembering she needed to have a sassy response.
‘Okay,’ she said, trying to recover when she thought there might have been a saltiness on her tongue from the skin she’d licked in her imagination, ‘how about it’s a surprise to see you again?’
‘But it’s not a surprise,’ he replied quite logically, slipping his hands into the pockets of his trousers. ‘We knew this was coming.’
‘Unfortunately,’ she muttered.
He quirked a brow, then chuckled softly to himself. ‘You couldn’t get out of it.’
‘I—’ She broke off before she could give herself away. ‘I didn’t try,’ she lied.
Again that not quite genuine smile returned to his lips. ‘I’m disappointed. I thought an occasion that would force you to see your ex-husband for the first time in two years would at least warrant an escape attempt.’
‘It’s my parents’ thirtieth anniversary,’ she said, repeating what her twin sister, Autumn, had told Summer when she’d complained about having to attend.
‘It’s been eight years,’ Autumn had said. ‘We’ve moved on.’
Autumn’s voice had softened, which had been the worst part for Summer. Not that she couldn’t skip the weekend celebration. Not because of the reasons she wanted to escape it. It was the sympathy. With Autumn, when they dared speak about their family dynamics at all, it was always the sympathy.
But Summer’s feelings about her family, her parents, didn’t warrant sympath
y. They were valid. Autumn just didn’t know the entire truth of it. Eight years later, Summer still couldn’t share that truth. Not with her sister, and not with the man she’d once loved.
A familiar resentment bubbled inside her.
Summer released a shaky breath and met Wyatt’s eyes. She did a quick intake of air at the intensity as their gazes clashed. It felt as if that air had stumbled on its way to her lungs. Tension crackled around them; she was almost positive she felt the ground shift beneath her.
No. This wasn’t a natural disaster. Rather, it was a natural effect of seeing the man she’d walked away from two years before. An after-effect, she corrected, of the passion that had resulted in a hunger that had never quite been sated between them. It didn’t matter how hard they’d tried. Or how often.
‘Did you try?’ she asked, desperate to distract herself. ‘To get out of this?’
‘No,’ he said simply.
Automatically, her insides twisted and turned. Reminded her of how she’d felt all throughout their short marriage.
She knew what that simple ‘no’ meant. It spoke of Wyatt’s loyalty to Summer’s father. Trevor Bishop had chosen Wyatt to be his protégé while Wyatt had still been in university. Without any reason to, Wyatt had claimed when he’d told her the story, and despite his less than stellar academic record. But Trevor had seen something in Wyatt. He’d trained that something until it had become the discipline Wyatt was now known for. Once Wyatt and Summer had started dating, Trevor had begun to nurture it.
Summer had listened to Wyatt’s recollection of it when they’d started dating. Had smiled and asked questions even though it had left a bitter taste in her mouth. She should have known right then and there that there could be no future for them. Wyatt clearly idealised Trevor. But it had been too late when Summer realised Wyatt didn’t only idealise him; he wanted to be like him. Wyatt wanted to be like Trevor and follow in his footsteps.
