by Sophia Lynn
"Shut up," he said carelessly, and shocked, she fell silent. He had never spoken that way to her before.
"So you had a chance to make a score that would set you up for a few years, and then I thought about the times I've come across you unexpectedly, that first night and then that night in my room. God, you looked like butter wouldn't melt in your mouth," he said with disgust.
"You sure knew how to turn a bad turn to your advantage, didn't you?" Cord said with bitterness in his voice. "The first time wasn't that impressive, but the second . . . I all but gave you the keys to the kingdom after that bit of acting."
For a moment, Jordan's fevered mind had no idea what he was talking about, but then she realized and heat bloomed on her face.
"Cord, don't," she said, her voice trembling. "You have no idea . . . do you really think that what I did that night was acting? Do you think that I slept with you . . . because it was convenient?"
"I'm sure that it was disappointing for you not to get the files that you were so close to that night," Cord responded smoothly. "I’m sure that you made the most of it, no matter how experienced or inexperienced you were."
Cord looked away briefly.
"I know who you are," he said, and she wondered if she heard something human there.
"Do you?"
"I read up on your father and what my father did to him. I'm afraid, Jordan, that there is nothing illegal about what he did. Underhanded, yes. Terrible and deliberate, yes. However, both men are dead, and there is nothing to litigate, nothing to drag into the open. I can almost understand why you’ve done this."
He gestured toward the file, and she saw that there was a sick look on his face.
"I wish to God you hadn't seen it. I wish I could burn it, but somehow, I can't. I wish I could let you have it."
"Cord," she said softly, but he gestured her silent. Suddenly, he looked less like a man with the world in his hand and more like someone who was tired to death, who simply wanted to lie down and to be done forever. He looked the way she felt so often.
"But of course, I can't let you have it,” he said heavily. "What I have besides my property and my wealth is my name, and it might be a poor thing, but I cannot let you start up the whispers that will accompany this release. I find that I don't have it in me to simply leave, so let us settle things."
Jordan felt the world tilt out from underneath her. This was happening so fast. It was Cord in front of her, the man she had sought and craved and loved for so long, but he was a stranger now. There was something distant in his face and in his voice, and she felt a wave of nausea wash over her.
"Cord . . . Cord, don't."
"Quiet, Jordan," he said, not looking at her. "This is the best for both of us. I get the peace that I need to run my affairs, and you get what you’ve been after all along while squeaking that you thought I was the worst kind of villain for giving it. Though it galls me, I have to say that a performance like yours is worth quite a lot."
Jordan felt as if he had dealt her a body blow. He couldn't.
"I have to admire a woman who would sacrifice her virginity for her aims. That alone would be worth a great deal, don't you think?"
He can't do this. He can't. I'm going to be sick.
When she didn't answer, he continued.
"There was the trip to the bed and breakfast, and after that, hmm, there were some three and a half weeks or so, I believe, at the house. We can round that up to a month, to be generous."
He paused, and she could see nothing of the man she loved in his eyes.
"I would say that with one thing and another, a million dollars should cover it," he said, his voice cool. "Are we agreed? A million dollars for you to keep your mouth shut, for you to pretend that we have never met before, and to get you out of my damn life."
"No!"
Her hands were clenched by her sides, and now she met his eyes fully. He looked startled by her sudden flash of fury, but Jordan was long past caring. A part of her wanted to fly at him, clawing at his face for daring to put a price on what they were to one another, for the things they felt, but she was already speaking.
"Goddamn you, I wasn't going to publish it!" Jordan snarled. "Can't you see that? If I were going to do that, I would have sold it to a tabloid long before you could catch up with me. The only reason you were able to find me at all after I scrambled my trail through Detroit and Baltimore is because I just stopped caring!"
Cord glared at her.
"What the hell are you saying?"
"I’m saying that I don't want your money," she cried. "I never did, and I don't want it now! God, what you must think of me! Do you think I could look at those photos and want to profit from them? Do you think that my revenge for my father was so all-encompassing that I would sell you out, you and your poor mother? I wanted revenge for my father, but there are things I won't do, things I would never do."
Her anger was an enormous hot coal in her throat. It subsided a little with her words, but it still glowed there, dangerous and sullen.
"I saw those pictures, and I thought I was going to be sick," she said. "I don't need to punish a dead man, and I don't need to do it at the expense of his son, a man I love."
"Jordan," he said, reaching for her, but she yanked her arm away, shaking her head.
She was so angry that her vision felt as if it was going velvety gray around the edges.
"No. No. I can't. I can't do this. Take the damn file. Take it, and take your money as well. I don't want it. I don't want it."
Somehow, she had staggered into the wall, banging her shoulder. Even the stab of pain felt distant, and then she couldn't complain about Cord grabbing her because he was holding her up.
God, why was he shouting? Why was he so angry? Hadn't he gotten everything he wanted?
It was too much, and it felt as if the world broke apart. Jordan plunged into a cool and forgiving darkness, and she wasn't sure when she would emerge again. If she would ever want to.
Chapter Eighteen
When Jordan woke up, the bright lights stunned her. She nearly panicked, but then there was a hand over hers, a large hand that was inexpressibly familiar. She turned toward that comfort immediately and gasped when she realized that it was Cord.
"Oh, thank God you're up," he sighed.
She wanted to ask him why that was the case, but then a doctor arrived, a portly kind-faced man who broke the news to her with admirable aplomb.
"As it is, you are very lucky, Miss Matthews," he said in his clipped Indo-British accent. "Though you did lose consciousness briefly, our tests show that you are healthy overall, though slightly malnourished. And of course, your child is fine."
"My . . . my child?" Jordan whispered. She could feel her face grow pale as all the parts slid into place. Her fatigue, her weight gain, her nausea . . . they weren't because of what was going on between her and Cord. More appropriately, it was because of what she and Cord had done together, and she passed a shaky hand over her belly.
"Yes, Miss Matthews," he said, quirking an eyebrow at her. "Did you not know?"
The doctor was strict with her, confirming that yes, she was pregnant, yes, she should have been taking better care of herself, and yes, she needed to speak to her own doctor as soon as possible to learn how to keep herself and her child healthy.
When he had left, Jordan turned to Cord, feeling more helpless than she could ever remember feeling.
"But . . . I don't have a doctor," she said, her voice trembling even in her own ears.
For some reason, that more than anything else was what pushed her over the edge. Against her will, large, fat tears started running down her face, and small sniffles became enormous sobs.
"Oh, Jordan, my poor little cat . . ."
That beloved nickname was not one that she had ever expected to hear again, and then Cord was sitting on the hospital bed next to her, cradling her against his broad chest and planting gentle kisses on her hair.
Jordan felt as if she
had been holding her tears in for what felt like an eternity, and now that they finally had a chance, she was flooded. She cried for her father who had never recovered from his loss and for her mother who had done her best. She cried for Cord's mother and the little boy that he had been, how terrified they must have been and how strong they were to survive it.
She cried because she was going to have a baby, and because it was so easy, so very easy to ruin a child, to hurt her or to frighten her. Children were so fragile and they needed so much, and how in the world was she ever going to be enough to care for one?
The thing about crying so hard, Jordan thought finally, was that eventually, you had to stop and face what came next. Her body felt as if someone had rolled her down a hill in a metal barrel, but finally, the sobs ceased. Even though her eyes ached, she could breathe normally, and she sat back from Cord.
He let her go, but he remained on her bed, watching her searchingly with those blue, blue eyes. In the back of her mind, she hoped that their child would have his eyes rather than hers.
"I’m afraid that you were utterly right to call me a hypocrite," she said stiffly.
"Oh?" To her surprise, there was something gently humorous in Cord's face. To Jordan, there was nothing funny about their situation, but she forged ahead.
"Yes. If I'm going to be a parent, if I'm going to . . . to . . . mother a child, I can't do it on what's left of my maid's pay. So if that offer of a million is still good . . ."
"As a matter of fact, it is not."
She felt as if she would explode if she had to take one more blow today, but instead, Jordan fought down her panic and tried again.
"Look, I'm not asking for myself . . . hell, keep most of it in a trust if you want. Maybe . . . maybe just a small amount every month until I get work or something like that . . ."
"That offer was made under false assumptions," Cord said calmly. "Those false assumptions were mine, and I find that I cannot, in good faith, offer you that payoff any longer."
She flinched, but he was still talking.
"Instead, I have a deal that hopefully, you will like better. I would like to offer you half of all of my worldly possessions and wealth. I would like to offer you room in my bed wherever I’m sleeping, four houses located throughout the world, and more penthouses than that. I would like to offer you nights where we do nothing but touch one another, and a life where we raise our children together far away from the shadows that surrounded our own childhoods."
Jordan could barely believe what she was hearing. She had to swallow twice before she could make herself speak.
"That . . . that sounds like a pretty amazing deal," she said. "And what would I have to do to get it?"
"It's very simple," he said, and for the first time, she heard a note of vulnerability enter his voice. He took her hand, and she realized with wonder that he was shaking slightly.
"All you have to do, Jordan, is say yes to being my wife. All you have to do is marry me."
Jordan started at him, wondering if she had finally gone crazy, if the hospital was piping in some laughing gas or if this really was all a dream. When she saw that nothing faded or drifted away, she felt like she was on the verge of tears.
"But . . . but I'm a maid," she said miserably. "You're a billionaire, and I sweep floors! I grew up thinking that ketchup and a single slice of cheese on white bread was a real meal, and you—"
"I used to hate going to dinner because if my father was drunk enough, he used to think it was great fun to throw plates worth hundreds of dollars at my mother and me," Cord said bluntly. "I grew up thinking that love was always a power struggle."
He paused as if searching for the words.
"There are a thousand differences between us. We come from different worlds, and maybe, Jordan, if we were thinking about living in either one, that might be a problem for us. I don't want to live in either world. I want to build a whole world with you, one that we create together. That's . . . that's the best we can do, and I believe that beyond a shadow of a doubt, we can do it."
"A world for us . . . and for our child," Jordan whispered, and Cord nodded.
"One where there's plenty to eat, where there's discipline instead of abuse, where they can feel the love flowing through the family like water. A world that is ours and where our children will always be safe," Cord said, and Jordan could feel her heart twist inside her.
"I need more than that," she whispered, and Cord's gaze never dropped.
"I love you, Jordan Matthews," he said solemnly. "I love you beyond all things. From this life to the next, I am yours if you want me. Say you love me, say that you will be my wife, and I will create a world for you."
Jordan's tears almost prevented her from answering, but somehow, she managed.
"Yes," she whispered. "Oh, yes. Cord, I love you, and I will marry you."
He swept her in his arms, holding her so tightly that she gasped. The kiss he gave her was equal parts passion and tenderness, and something inside her thrilled at the idea that it was only the first kiss of many, the first of a whole lifetime of kisses.
Cord only broke the kiss long enough to cross the floor to his jacket. As Jordan looked on with curiosity, he pulled out a velvet box and handed it to her.
"Go on, open it," he said. "It's for you, though I bought it without getting your fingers measured."
Hesitantly, she opened the box and gasped at the ring inside. The dark diamond surrounded by a glittering halo of diamonds was magnificent, and she could scarcely believe that such a stunning piece of jewelry was for her.
"Oh, Cord, it's beautiful," she murmured, and Cord laughed softly.
He took the ring from her and slid it onto her left ring finger, kissing her hand like a gentleman out of a fairytale before looking up again.
"I purchased it before I left New York," he said, his words a quiet confession. "That was before I knew that you had run from me. Even if things have changed since that moment, the feelings behind this ring are the same. You are an amazing and unique woman, and I have never met anyone like you. If you allow me to, I will spend the rest of my life with you. I love you, Jordan."
Jordan thought that she had cried as much as she could today, but now her eyes and her heart were proving her wrong.
"I love you," she said, throwing her arms around him. "I love you, and I need you and I want you so much."
Epilogue
Five Years Later…
The sun shone down bright and hot on the beach next to the lake, and Jordan shaded her eyes, looking out with worry across the golden sands.
"Do you see the boys?" she asked. "I haven't seen them in—"
Before she could even finish the sentence, Robbie and Drew came tumbling out of the thick grass that lined the dunes, hefting a bucket between them.
"Mama, mama, look what we've found!" they chorused, their voices overlapping each other in their excitement.
As Jordan bent to see what her sons had found, it struck her all over again that life was full of surprises.
It had been a surprise to go to the skilled OB/GYN that Cord had hired and to find that their surprise baby was in fact two surprise babies. Twins were tougher on a body than a singlet was, and that explained how quickly she had put on weight and started showing symptoms.
It had been a surprise to society when one of the most eligible bachelors in the United States married his maid, and it was a surprise to her and Cord when their twins decided they wanted to enter the world a full month earlier than planned.
There was nothing to be done about it, however. Robert Cordell and Drew Jordan were both excitable little boys who were always on the lookout for what came next, and most days, their parents had their hands full trying to figure out what was going on.
"Oh, so let's see what you've got there," Jordan said, looking in.
"It's treasure, Mama," said Robbie solemnly. The twins were technically identical, but Jordan had never had problems telling them apart. Robbie was the quiet
er of the two, slightly taller, with a dark mole just next to the corner of his mouth.
"We're going to offer to a museum, like Papa does," crowed Drew. "They're going to have our names next to it and everything. Drew had a mole right above the arch of his left eyebrow, and it seemed to both Jordan and to Cord that he had not stopped moving or talking since he started.
Looking into the small pail, Jordan was amused to discover that her sons had located quite a handful of beach glass, glass that had been tumbled safe and smooth by the waves of the lake. It was mostly white and green, but she reached into the midst of the glass to find one triangular blue piece, its edges smoothed down. The blue was beautiful, and it made her think of someone.
"May I have this one?" she asked, and when her twins nodded magnanimously, she straightened up with the glass in her hand.
"Shall we see how Papa is doing with dinner?" she said with a smile, and the twins burst into noisy cheers.
After reassuring them that their treasure would be safe left in the camper, she guided them a short distance away where Cord had been working on the charcoal grill. She had left him cursing at it, but now the air was filled with the smell of smoke and grilled sausage.
"That smells delicious," she said. "Shall I get the little savages settled for food?"
"Sounds good to me," Cord said with a grin. "And afterward, we can hose them off next to the trailer."
While the boys were tearing into their food, she sidled up next to Cord.
"Hey, chef, got a minute for me?"
"Always do, little cat," he said, giving her a sweet kiss.
"Here, look at what the boys found."
She offered him the piece of beach glass, which was the precise color of his eyes. He turned it over in his fingers a few times and then handed it back to her.
"Pretty. You could have it put onto a necklace, I suppose."
"I could. I could wear it, and hopefully, maybe that means that our next kid will have eyes like you instead of like me."
Both Drew and Robbie had gotten her dark eyes, which she supposed were handsome enough. Cord stared at her for a moment.
