Sparring Partners

by Leigh Morgan

  The look she gave him said she didn't believe him. Jordon meant every word. Henry was great at tracking down the best tickets and back stage passes to anything, he could certainly find Mr. Resnik and get him to sign his wife's shirt. Jordon held out his hand.

  "We can do this the easy way or you can make me take it. Either way, the outcome's the same. It's simply a matter of how much enjoyment you get out of the process."

  Suddenly this wasn't about a tank top. Not for Jordon. He needed her acceptance and he needed it fast. Dictating to her probably wasn't the wisest way to get it, but when she started talking about being married to some rock star and not liking him, his insides started to twist into knots.

  Reed stood. Generally he was good at reading people but the emotions dancing across her face were foreign to him. Determination and calm defiance that promised retribution mingled with something even more elemental, causing his heart to beat faster. He wanted to take back everything he'd just said. He wanted to reach out and hold her and tell her he was sorry. He held his ground instead.

  Grasping the bottom of her ribbed tank she began to lift, slowly. The glimpse of gently rounded belly and abdomen she offered wasn't helping calm his heart. Her skin was as pale as he remembered, but more pink in the morning light, like the color of a flawless pink pearl. Jordon ached to run his lips over every inch of it.

  Maybe making her disrobe at the breakfast table wasn't such a good idea, but he'd be damned if he could figure a way to back off now.

  Her upper ribs were visible but not painfully so, she wasn't skinny. She was perfect. She paused just shy of revealing her breasts. Jordon could see the delicate skin where her breast arched upward, but no more. His eyes shot to hers. The smile she gave him was slow and small, as old as time, and as dangerous as any smile womankind gave man before her. Her blue-gray eyes, more blue than gray this morning, narrowed slightly as her full lips parted just enough to allow her tongue to wet them. No armor known to man could protect him from what she was making him feel and the look on her face said she knew it.

  Jordon lost this round, and he wasn't sure there would be another.

  In one smooth motion her top was gone. She stood tall, proud, and unashamed, daring him to make the next move. He stood, rooted to the floor, his stupidity making him mute. She wasn't his elf now, she was a warrior princess. Regal. Powerful. Secure in her allure.

  Her shoulders were proportionately broader than those of any other woman he'd seen topless, and the musculature supporting them was thick and powerful, probably from decades of throwing punches and working with weapons. She was dangerous, no doubt about that, but it wasn't because of her obvious strength. His eyes flashed over her breasts, medium-sized, perfectly curved and clearly real. He hadn't remembered the freckles sprinkled between them, but when he closed his eyes and thought about her, he'd gotten the color of her nipples right. Dusky-brown with hard pink nipples begging for his tongue. He needed to go to her, to hold her, to tell her that if they worked together they could both benefit in more ways than she could possibly imagine from this marriage. Being married could be the best thing that ever happened to either one of them if she let it.

  The shirt hit him in the face before he could deflect it.

  "Keep it. I'll list it as your property in the divorce settlement." She had her robe tied tightly around her by the time the fabric dropped from his face.

  She was walking away before he could formulate a response. Jordon lifted the tiny tank to his face and inhaled deeply. Soap and wild flowers. There was something else there too that Jordon couldn't name that was Reed's alone. It smelled heavenly.

  He folded Reed's shirt, still warm from her hot little body, and tucked it inside the shirt he was wearing. He wanted her scent close to his skin since it didn't look like he was going to get close enough to touch her anytime soon.

  CHAPTER TEN

  "You chickened out didn't you?" Henry said, following Jordon to the back patio.

  "I don't know what you're talking about."

  It was in times like these that Henry considered the merits of smoking. Instead, he popped another of his bite sized licorice he kept in small bags in his pants pocket into his mouth. Not as good as a full twisted stick, but sometimes a man had to make do.

  "You chickened out. You purposely picked a fight over a shirt instead of getting Reed to work with you so you could stay married."

  "Tank top."

  "What?"

  Jordon ran a hand through his hair in a gesture Henry knew from experience signaled his agitation. "It's a tank top, not a shirt."

  "What difference does it make?"

  "It's smaller and it shows more skin."

  Henry coughed, making him choke on his candy. "Are we seriously talking about the difference between sleeves and no sleeves on women's pajamas?" Jordon didn't answer. "You need to talk to her. William is serious about his deadlines. He's already hounding me for a copy of the marriage certificate."

  "Let him wait. I've still got a day."

  Henry looked at his watch. "More like twelve hours. Time to start using those world class negotiating skills of yours or you won't be needing them much longer. Although, they might not help you now. Not if throwing her shirt at your head is any indicator of Reed's willingness to listen."

  "You were watching?" Jordon asked.

  Since his friend and boss sounded like he was contemplating murder, Henry didn't torture him further. "No. Didn't need to. That bulge in your shirt and the way you keep touching it says she let you have it. It doesn't take a security expert to tell she didn't just hand it to you with a big kiss, she's more the kind of woman to throw it in your face. If I were a woman, that's what I'd do. I'd lose it before she sees how much you like her perfume."

  "She doesn't wear perfume."

  "Then why are you keeping her shirt?"

  "You're a smart ass this morning. Did you just get laid?"

  Henry laughed. "Not quite. But hope springs eternal. Bet you a Snickers bar I get lucky before you do."

  Jordon nodded toward Henry's candy once again ignoring answering his question.

  "I hope your teeth fall out from eating that crap."

  "Is that a bet?"

  "What are you, sixteen?"

  "Only in my heart."

  "I'm beginning to wonder why I keep you around, Henry."

  "I'm your best friend. You love me. I keep you safe. And, my all time favorite, I keep that head of yours from exploding with thoughts of how great you are. Not to mention, you're such a pain in the ass no one else would stick around." That didn't even get a rise out of Jordon like it usually would. Damn William for putting Jordon through this.

  "You gotta work on your game with Reed. It sucks. She's not going to ooh and aah over you just because you drop ten grand on dinner and a show. She's not like those women who know the score with you."

  Jordon sat down on one of the wood and metal benches that populated the patio and rubbed his hands over his whiskers. The bench he chose just happened to be directly under Reed's bedroom window. Jordon didn't seem to notice, Henry was too pleased not to.

  Henry looked at his friend and couldn't help worrying. Jordon looked tired and more stressed now by William's stupid dictate than he had been the day William gave it, two and a half days ago. Sometimes Henry wanted to shoot William and put an end to the man's never ending tests for good.

  The only problem with that course of action was William's track record. He always had a reason for what he did, and, in Henry's experience, William turned out to be right every damned time when all was said and done. Still, Henry would find a way to off the old bastard if he wasn't sure that William loved Jordon almost as much as he loved Jordon's widowed mother.

  "What the hell am I going to do, Henry?" Jordon asked, running both hands through his overly long hair. "I really screwed the pooch this time."

  "What do you want to do? Seems to me you've got enough salted away to give William and B.H. a run for their money. You could
start your own investment firm. You don't need to take over B.H. when William retires."

  The look Jordon gave Henry made his heart squeeze. "Yes, I do. The knowledge that I'd be running B.H. one day is the only thing that kept me sane after Emily died."

  Jordon's voice cracked when he said his infant daughter's name. More than a decade and a half had passed since Henry stood beside Jordon as the tiny casket was lowered into the ground. The pain in Jordon didn't seem to lessen over time. Henry knew Jordon channeled all the pain he felt into taking over B.H., that in the beginning it was what kept him alive.

  "There's more to it than that, Henry. Emily's death fueled me for the first few years. Work was the only thing that killed the pain, then. Now, it's more than that. I love what I do. We keep people working, Henry. That means something to me. That's my way of making a difference. Even if I took every penny I have and started my own investment company tomorrow, I wouldn't be where B.H. is today until I'm seventy, maybe seventy-five. And only then if I'm very lucky."

  Henry stared straight ahead, not saying anything. Jordon didn't usually speak so plainly and Henry didn't want to interrupt.

  "With the market the way it is today, I wouldn't have the backers to do the kind of work William's doing. They'd go with B.H., it's a known, profitable commodity in good times and in bad. There would be no reason to invest with me as long as William continues to run B.H. effectively. I can do the most good at B.H. William knows it. I know it. There is no choice."

  William wasn't just threatening to take away Jordon's job, he was threatening Jordon's identity.

  Henry saw a shadow move in Reed's room and wondered just how long she'd been up there listening. The window leading to her small balcony was wide open and the form he saw through the curtains was definitely elf-size. Thank God for nosy women, he thought, smiling. With a push or two in the right direction there might be hope for Jordon's marriage, if the man could control his emotions long enough to stop pushing Reed away.

  "Tell me about Reed. Why did you fly off so fast and marry her?"

  "You know why."

  "No, I don't. You could have found someone more willing to work with you. She doesn't even know yet just how much you need her." Henry hoped he wasn't laying it on too thick, but the clock was ticking and Jordon's usual ease with women had completely deserted him.

  "She doesn't know. I've been trying to figure a way to tell her all morning."

  "So why pick a fight over a shirt?"

  "Damn it Henry. Lay off already. I know it was a dumb-ass thing to do. I admit okay. If I could undo it, I would."

  "What made you do it?" Henry prodded.

  "Henry, I need your help here, not your crap."

  "Then answer the question."

  "Which one?"

  "Take your pick."

  "Okay, fine. I chose Reed because I like her. She's smart. She's funny. She's loyal to her family, I saw that clearly at the museum. She doesn't tear up every time I raise my voice or say something that isn't perfect. And when I asked her to marry me and she said yes I felt powerful, complete. There's just something about her that calls to me. I can't explain it any better."

  "So why embarrass her?"

  Jordon stood up and began to pace. "I wasn't trying to embarrass her. It just sort of happened. First she flirted with you, then I saw her wearing that shirt with another man's name on it. I don't know why Henry. I just snapped."

  "I've never seen you 'snap' with a woman before."

  Jordon made a sound that wasn't quite a laugh and kept on pacing. "Apparently losing it doesn't require practice. It's easy to get right the first time."

  "So why keep the shirt?"

  "Henry we've been over this. I swear to God if you don't leave it alone we'll get some sparring practice done right here. You'll be picking gravel out of your skin the rest of the day."

  "Going all caveman didn't get you very far with Reed. I'm trying to help you here." Henry said, hoping Reed could hear them.

  "You could always petition to get the marriage annulled. You could find someone to take her place in enough time if you pushed the issue. Give the shirt back, keep your bags in the van, and let's go home."

  "No."

  Henry's gaze shifted from Reed's window back to Jordon who continued to wear out his shoes on the concrete patio. When Jordon was alone with only Henry and he wanted to think, he paced until his head cleared. When he negotiated a deal, whether it was on the golf course or in the boardroom or over the phone, Jordon remained as still as his environment would allow. No emotion crept into his voice and no unnecessary movement took away from his absolute concentration. Henry waited him out, knowing Jordon would work through it in his own good time.

  "I don't want my marriage annulled. There aren't any grounds. We did sleep together. Not enough, but once is all it takes. I want to keep her, Henry. I want her back in my bed. Divorce or annulment isn't going to further either cause."

  "Okay. Now we're getting somewhere. You know you don't want an annulment. You know you like her. You know you want her. What else do you know?"

  Jordon stopped pacing. "I know I'd like to take her over my knee for being so damned stubborn. Then, I'd like to lock her in the bedroom until I can forget about William and B.H. for a while. Three or four weeks ought to do for a start. I know I'd like to see you with two black eyes. My elf wouldn't think you were so studly then."

  Henry got up and slapped Jordon's shoulder a little harder than he would with any other man. "I don't know about that. Chicks dig scars and black eyes. Gives them something to kiss as they ooh and ahh over how stud-like you are."

  Jordon punched him in the solar plexus. Not hard enough to do any real damage but hard enough to take Henry's breath. "Reed Bennett is no chick. She's my wife. And as long as she is, the only stud she's going to be kissing is me."

  Henry straightened, rubbing between his upper ribs. "You'd better convince her of that. Clock's ticking."

  Henry looked up at Reed's window as Jordon spun and walked away. Behind the sheer curtain swaying lightly in the summer morning breeze, the elf-sized silhouette was still visible. Henry smiled to himself hoping the stinging in his abdomen was worth it.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Let the lover be disgraceful, crazy,

  absentminded. Someone sober

  will worry about things going badly.

  Let the lover be.

  Rumi~ 13th Century

  He kept her tank top, close to his skin.

  Reed watched Jordon pull it out of his shirt after he hit Henry. He held it to his face before it disappeared again inside his shirt.

  He likes me and wants to keep me.

  Reed didn't much care for the way he phrased it, like she was a used car or a stray dog, but his desire seemed genuine enough. Her desire for him certainly was. If she'd been honest with him, instead of reacting like a wet cat every time he said something she didn't like, he'd know she wanted to keep him too, maybe not in her home or in the dojo but somewhere close.

  Now who sounds like she's collecting strays with flees?

  Reed flushed, uncomfortable with the jumbled mess of thoughts vying for dominance in her head. She was ashamed of the lie she'd screamed at him, she knew she shouldn't have said it as it was coming out of her mouth, she just couldn't seem to help herself. And now she had to fix it.

  She did like him. She liked him since she saw him pinching the bridge of his nose after getting hit by the glass door Jesse threw open in the art museum. He could have yelled or thrown a fit, but he didn't. He could have made Jesse feel badly for still being the awkward teenager he was, but he didn't. He'd been calm in the face of her rudeness and he'd been charming at dinner. He didn't even complain when she had her foot to his throat after she dropped him on the dojo floor, or later when she heard the men's laughter from the locker room after they found out he married her. And perhaps most telling of all, Jordon didn't laugh at the thought of having her as a wife, for which she was profoundly grateful.
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  She liked him alright. He'd seen into her soul and he hadn't run away. And she threw a shirt at his head.

  He wants to stay.

  Reed knew she'd given him more than enough reason to leave, and yet he didn't. He chose to stick around in spite of the fact that he loved someone else, even though that someone was dead.

  Emily.

  The pain in Jordon's voice when he spoke Emily's name, coupled with the despair clearly etched in every line on his handsome face, told Reed all she needed to know about how deeply this man could love. No one had ever loved her like that, and oh how she wanted to experience it, even if it was just for a little while. Maybe with Jordon she could pretend love like that was possible and could last a lifetime. She was willing to try.

  She and Jordon were more alike than his over priced shoes and macho demeanor suggested. They both were scarred by past losses. They both turned to martial arts to help exorcize the pain and stayed with it long enough that it became not something they did as much as a vital part of who they were. Not a bad foundation on which to build.

  Henry said Jordon needed her. Maybe she needed him too.

  Reed turned to her closet, pulled out the one frilly dress she owned, and threw it on her bed on her way to the shower. She wanted to look like a girl for the apology she had in mind.

  ...

  Jordon heard Reed coming, she wasn't very good at walking silently through the woods. So much for the wood elf theory. The cadence of her step indicated she was a woman on a mission without a care for how much energy she expended accomplishing it. Jordon was learning to judge her mood by the way she moved.

  He would have known she was near even without the noise she made with every determined step. She couldn't mask her scent. He'd know her even if she came to him silently in the dark. All he had to do was taste the air and know she was with him.