The Girl of His Dreams (Bachelor #1)

by Janet Nissenson

  She could sign back on with the adventure tour company she’d worked for the past three years, though her choice of assignments was extremely limited right now. She read over the email she’d received a couple of days ago from her contact at the company, frowning when she noted the locations that had been mentioned - Cancun, the Dominican Republic, Slovenia, and Greece. Aubrey automatically crossed the two European locations off the list, since they both required a two year commitment, and she had no intention of being that far away from her family for that length of time. Cancun was probably the most desirable location of the lot, but it would also require a two year commitment, plus the work schedule and pay were even worse than they’d been in Maui.

  She sifted through the materials she’d printed out from a few different masters degree programs, including one at San Francisco State University. It was the most affordable tuition-wise from the ones she was considering, though she wasn’t at all sure how much longer Jordan’s open-ended invitation to live in his condo would extend. If she had to move out and find her own place, there would be no way to afford even a shared rental in this city of sky-high rents. And while she was fairly certain her parents would be willing to pay for the bulk of her tuition, given that they had put both of her brothers through professional school, it had been some time since Aubrey had had such a discussion with them so she couldn’t make assumptions.

  Finding another job in the hotel or tourism industry seemed to be the most logical option at this point. Either that or changing career paths entirely, she mused. The problem was she didn’t really have a whole lot of experience doing anything but the sort of work she’d been doing the past few years. Her computer skills were passable, though she was far from an expert at word processing or doing spreadsheets, and she honestly couldn’t see herself being someone’s admin assistant or working all day in a cramped cubicle. She supposed a retail job wouldn’t be so bad, but the pay was lousy. Same thing with working in a restaurant or bar.

  And any of the other professions that sounded even mildly interesting to her - becoming a teacher or psychologist or physical therapist, for example - would all require additional schooling. She cringed a little at the thought of having that conversation with her parents, not because they wouldn’t be supportive and even enthusiastic about her going back to school, but because she’d feel like such a total loser having to ask them for financial help. All the talk about being independent and able to take care of yourself tended to ring false when you had less than three thousand dollars in your savings account, no realistic job prospects on the horizon, and zero idea of where to go from here, she acknowledged grimly.

  Well, she was going to have to do something and do it soon. While Jordan seemed perfectly happy to have her continue living her with him, and had never even hinted that she needed to move on or at least start contributing financially, Aubrey couldn’t help feeling like the worst sort of leech or moocher. He paid for everything - groceries, toiletries, eating out, entertainment - and adamantly refused to take a dime from her. At least he’d stopped buying her clothes and shoes after she had protested so loudly, though he was taking her shopping this weekend to buy a dress and accessories for the big charity event coming up soon. And she did do as much as possible to try and earn her “keep” in other ways - making the bed, hanging up his clothes, fixing him breakfast every morning and dinner on those nights he didn’t insist on taking her out. She brought his suits and shirts to the dry cleaner, ran errands for him, and tidied up the condo on the days his regular housekeeper wasn’t there. But Aubrey remained woefully aware that her efforts were just a drop in the bucket, and like it or not she was becoming more and more dependent on Jordan for her very livelihood. And while plenty of other women might see nothing wrong with the situation - Jenna, for one - Aubrey was extremely dissatisfied with their current, very one-sided living arrangements.

  She returned to the various Internet searches she’d been doing for jobs in San Francisco, scouring Craig’s List, Monster.com, and several other job search sites, making note of those that sounded both interesting and that she was actually qualified for. At the end of two hours, however, the list she’d compiled was depressingly short. She might have better luck, she acknowledged, by registering with an employment agency, and jotted herself a note to ask Jordan if he had any recommendations.

  It was growing close to the time when he was due to arrive home, so Aubrey hastily tidied up the stack of papers she’d been pouring through most of the afternoon. Needing a bit of fresh air to revive herself after poring over her laptop screen for so long, she opened the French doors that led from the living room to the balcony, lifting her chin towards the welcoming breeze as she did so. She was glad to see that the sun was still shining brightly, though a cool breeze had picked up. Still, it was warmer than it had been this morning when she’d ventured out for an easy five mile run around the neighborhood, when the city had been wreathed in a thick layer of summer fog. Fortunately she’d dressed accordingly, but had felt more than a little wistful when thinking about the warm tropical climate in Maui she had left behind two months ago.

  Overall, though, she’d adapted to living in a big, busy city like San Francisco far better than she’d first imagined. She liked the fact that she could walk, bike, or take the bus most everywhere she needed to go, loved the variety of shops and cafes and services, and was enjoying the liveliness and energy of the city. And while she still had her doubts about whether she could live here permanently, the idea was at least something she was willing to consider.

  “Now this is a definitely a sight a man could get used to seeing after a hard day’s work - a gorgeous babe waiting to greet him.”

  Aubrey whirled away from the balcony railing she’d been leaning over at the sound of Jordan’s lazy drawl. Grinning in response, she hurried over to where he stood framed in the doorway and threw herself into his arms.

  “Welcome home,” she greeted enthusiastically, lifting her mouth to meet his kiss.

  Jordan’s arms tightened about her waist as he hugged her close, kissing her with long, leisurely swoops of his tongue until she was nearly breathless. When he finally lifted his mouth from hers, he, too, was breathing more than a little unevenly.

  “Well, hello to you, too,” he said in a husky voice, smiling at her in that sexy, seductive way that always made her go a little weak in the knees.

  That one errant lock of his black hair had fallen over his forehead again, and Aubrey brushed it back tenderly, then kissed his cheek. “Missed you,” she told him. “I hope your day wasn’t too crazy.”

  He shrugged. “Not too bad, no. Kelly Harrington was convinced she was going into labor three weeks early, so I had to meet her at the hospital and check things out. Wound up being false labor pains so I sent her home and told her she had to be patient a while longer. And considering that she’s gained over fifty pounds so far with this pregnancy, she wasn’t real happy with the news. I’m sure she’s regretting not taking all the advice I gave her about how eating for two meant her and the baby, and not two full grown adults.”

  Aubrey chuckled, thinking not for the first time how much she enjoyed Jordan’s quick wit, and how easily he could make her laugh. “Poor thing, though. I can’t imagine how tired she must be dragging so much extra baby weight around. Or how disappointed she was to realize it was going to be almost another month before she could start feeling more like herself.”

  Jordan scowled. “Then she should have followed the dietary guidelines we give all of our expectant mothers and not gone overboard. When expectant mothers gain too much weight it puts them at risk for gestational diabetes, and increases the risks for complications at delivery. I’m hoping we don’t have to do a C-section on Kelly when the time comes. Ah, well. I can only do so much with my patients, after all. The rest is up to them.”

  “You’re a great doctor, I can tell,” she assured him. “You really care about your patients, and take a personal interest in their co
ndition. Not to mention, you’re awfully cute to look at, too. I can see why you always insist on having a nurse in the exam room. Otherwise, I expect you’d have patients hitting on you constantly.”

  “That’s a bit of an exaggeration,” protested Jordan. “But it’s just one of the reasons I’m never alone with a patient.”

  Aubrey trailed her fingers teasingly up along his coat sleeve. “So you’ve never, um, fooled around a little in one of your exam rooms?”

  He shook his head firmly. “No way. That’s a surefire way to get a harassment suit or worse slapped on you. And in this day and age of sue-happy patients, I take every single precaution to make sure nothing like that could ever happen.”

  “Hmm.” She nibbled lightly on his ear lobe. “Well, considering I’m not officially your patient, and that I would never, ever even consider suing you for anything, maybe we should stop by your office after hours one of these days so you could, um, give me a very, very up close and personal pelvic exam. Oh, and you should probably do a breast exam for good measure. Can’t be too proactive, after all.”

  Jordan burst out laughing, then gave her a playful smack on the ass. “What a naughty girl you can be at times, trying to tempt me like that! But you can forget about seducing me in one of my exam rooms, darlin’. Because if I ever actually went along with that idea, then every time I examined a patient in that room all I’d be able to think about is the way you looked when I was fucking you. And since I strive to be a complete professional at all times, sporting a hard-on would be extremely detrimental to that goal.”

  Aubrey joined in his laughter. “Okay, spoilsport. Guess we’ll have to limit the hanky panky at the office to the janitorial closet at the hospital.”

  He gave a small shudder in recollection of that particular encounter. “This is going to make me sound very old and very uptight, but we should probably refrain from that sort of thing in a public place in future. Besides, I like to take my time with you, Aubrey, as well as have plenty of room to, uh, spread out.” He threaded a hand in her hair as he brushed his lips over her cheek. “You deserve a hell of a lot more than a quick fuck in a dark closet, baby. You should be worshipped, savored, adored every single time you make love.”

  She was trembling in reaction at his tender, heartfelt words, clutching at his upper arms to steady herself. “Jordan,” she whispered. “That’s so beautiful, so sweet. You make my heart ache a little when you say such lovely things to me. And I do feel adored every time we’re together, even that time in the closet. It may not have been the ideal location, but it was also incredibly exciting, wondering if someone would catch us in the act.”

  He grinned wickedly, and this time when he swatted her on the butt it was with considerably more force. “Ah, such a dirty girl,” he taunted. “And maybe a little bit of a voyeur, too. There’s a club I know of, haven’t been there in years, but according to Finn it’s still a very - er, happening place. And it’s pretty much no holds barred there - couples making out on the dance floor, lots of naked flesh, plenty of exhibitionism. So if the idea of having an audience turns you on, we could check the place out sometime.”

  Aubrey’s cheeks grew hot as she imagined such a scene, and while the idea definitely sounded intriguing in a way, she knew she could never really go through with something quite so risqué.

  “Um, I think I’ll take a pass,” she replied weakly. “As fearless as I am about deep sea snorkeling, or rock climbing, the thought of having sex in front of a bunch of strangers is pretty terrifying. You - have you done something like that before?”

  “No,’ he replied without hesitation, and his firm denial was proof enough for her that he was telling the truth. “I’ll admit to being somewhat adventurous when it comes to sex, but I’m also pretty private about it at the same time. Finn, on the other hand - well, who really knows if some of his wilder stories are true, or just fantasies he dreams up to try and shock people.”

  Aubrey wrinkled her nose. “If it’s all the same to you, I’d really rather not get a mental picture of your friend Finn participating in any sort of semi-depraved activities. And if we keep talking about having sex, the dinner I have planned for us is going to be ruined. So why don’t you get changed, and I’ll fix us both a drink?”

  “Okay.” Jordan dropped a kiss on the tip of her nose. “What exactly are you making anyway? It smells delicious, whatever it is.”

  “A green chile chicken enchilada casserole that my mom has made for years and years. It’s the easiest thing in the world to fix, too, just layers of tortillas, chicken, cheese, sour cream, and green chile sauce. Even I would have trouble screwing it up,” she joked.

  “Don’t be silly,” he chided her. “You keep putting down your cooking skills, but you’re a great cook, Aubrey. At least I’ve loved everything you’ve made for me so far. And I’m not saying that just to get in your pants later,” he added jokingly. “Ouch!”

  She smirked as he rubbed the spot on his bicep that she’d just punched with all her might. “You should have quit while you were ahead,” she retorted. “Go get changed now, and I’ll have the margaritas all mixed up by the time you’re done.”

  Jordan glared at her, still rubbing his arm. “You pack a mean punch there, darlin’. In fact, this is probably going to leave a bruise. So you’ll just have to kiss and make it all better later.”

  Aubrey bent her head and placed a tiny kiss on the spot she’d just smacked a moment ago. “There. All better now, you big baby?”

  His eyes twinkled at her wickedly. “That wasn’t the body part I was referring to.”

  He hurried away before she could hit him again, chuckling to himself as he did.

  While Jordan was changing clothes, she finished mixing up the pitcher of margaritas she’d promised him, taking two glasses from the well-stocked cabinets. She thought again how ironic it was that for a man who claimed to hardly ever eat at home he nonetheless had a kitchen equipped with every possible sort of dish, glass, appliance, and gadget.

  He emerged from the bedroom within a few minutes, having changed out of his gray pinstriped suit into dark wash jeans and a navy polo shirt. He had also, she noticed a bit sadly, taken the time to comb his hair so that the endearingly errant lock was now firmly in place.

  “Ah, this really hits the spot,” groaned Jordan as he took an appreciative sip of the icy cold margaritas. “I suppose your mother taught you how to make these too?”

  Aubrey shook her head in amusement. “Both of my parents are actually serious wine connoisseurs, and seldom drink hard liquor. They would have loved that day trip you and I took to the Napa Valley. I learned how to make a killer margarita during a very brief stint as a bartender during my senior year of college. Great tips but way too many drunken pick-up attempts to fend off every night. Though the way my job hunting has been going I might have to take up my short-lived bartending career again very soon.”

  He frowned, taking her by the arm and guiding her back out onto the balcony so they could enjoy the view. “Did you hear back from the tour company then?”

  She nodded. “It’s not such great news, however.” Briefly, she told him about the very limited options available to her. “I don’t want to sign on for a two-year commitment, and especially not in Europe. My parents would really prefer that I’m not too far away from them, and frankly I feel the same way. The problem is there just aren’t that many jobs I’m qualified for. And if I decide to go back and get my masters degree, I’d have to ask them for financial support, and you can probably imagine how I feel about that.”

  Jordan’s hand went to the back of her neck, giving it a little massage. “From the little I know about your parents, I can’t imagine they wouldn’t be supportive. Didn’t they put your brothers through law and medical school? That had to cost a hell of a lot more than graduate school.”

  “I’m sure it did,” agreed Aubrey. “But Josiah and Mateo were also smart enough to snag some outside financial aid, and I woul
d have zero chance of doing the same. Besides, I’ve already had so many more advantages than either of them that I’d feel incredibly ungrateful to expect more from our parents.”

  He regarded her curiously. “Why on earth would you say something like that? All three of you were adopted, weren’t you?”

  “Yes. But Josiah was almost five years old when he was brought over to this country from Somalia with a group of other orphans. And Mateo was about three when my parents adopted him. I, on the other hand, was only two days old when they brought me home from the hospital. I’m the only one of us who had it easy right from the beginning, who didn’t have to suffer through traumas and poverty and being uprooted and then having to adapt to a whole different culture. So I’ve always felt that I shouldn’t expect quite as much from our parents because my life was always so ideal. I never wanted for anything, Jordan - food, shelter, clothes, toys, going to a good school. And especially knowing that I was loved and protected. My brothers didn’t always know that, didn’t always have everything that I did. They’ve earned all the good things that have happened to them, they deserve them more than I do.”

  Jordan set their drinks down and yanked her into his arms, his eyes a dark, stormy gray as he gazed down at her almost angrily. “Stop it, Aubrey. I hope to God you’ve never told your parents what you just told me, because I can guarantee you that they’d be good and pissed off to hear that sort of crap. And I don’t know your brothers, but I’m positive they’d be angry, too. Stop putting yourself down, would you? Maybe it wasn’t in the cards for you to become a doctor or lawyer or a professor, but in no way does that make you out to be some sort of loser. You’re an incredible, wonderful, intelligent woman, and you’re also one of the kindest, most generous people I’ve ever met.”