by Julie Kenner
“She won’t have to,” Cash said equally quietly. “I’ll call my housekeeper. Mary’s known Maddie since she was a child. She’ll gather some friends and they’ll put the place in order. Her husband will have the shelves back up in no time. This can all be fixed.”
“Good. Okay. We won’t have to tell her it happened.”
“Yes, we will. She has a right to know about this, Jordan. And we need to know if anything like this is going on in New York.”
A ripple of fear moved through her. “You think she’s in danger, don’t you?”
“I don’t know what to think. But I don’t like the terms of your mother’s will.”
She looked at him then. He had a take-charge attitude that she was grateful for. In most of her relationships, including the one she’d had with her mother and in her job, she’d been the person who usually called the shots. She was relieved in this case that she didn’t have to figure out everything.
As she turned back to face the piles of debris, a thought suddenly occurred to her. “The jewelry show—the one that’s coming up tomorrow in Santa Fe. Maybe those pieces were what they were after.” Panic jolted her system. “I told her I’d substitute for her at that show. She said the new designs were in the safe, but—”
Cash ran his hands from her shoulders down her arms and back up again. “They are in the safe. She keeps all her finished work there.”
The relief Jordan felt nearly had her knees buckling again. She knew that. Maddie had told her that. She wasn’t going to fall apart. She couldn’t. Very deliberately, she let her gaze sweep the room again. Someone had done this to scare her sister.
Behind her, Cash moved to speak to the older man who’d remained outside. “Go back to the ranch. Let Steven and Mary know. Tell them I’ll call them as soon as the phones come back on line. If you could pack me some clothes and bring them, I’d be grateful. I’ll be staying here until we figure out what’s going on.”
“Yes, boss.”
Jordan heard the older man’s footsteps fade, but she was still focused on the destruction. She pictured her sister sitting at the worktable. Then she scanned the studio again. The carelessness of the destruction, the meanness of it jump-started her anger.
When the first wave moved through her, Cash said, “C’mon. We’re getting out of here.”
She turned to face him, temper blazing in her eyes. “We’re not just going to repair this place. We’re going to find the bastard who did it and make him pay.”
“Deal,” Cash said.
AS JORDAN PUSHED off the speakerphone button ending her call with Maddie, Cash slipped his arm around her and pulled her close. She looked shell-shocked. And no wonder. The news in Manhattan was even worse than it was in Santa Fe.
The message light on the phone had been blinking when they’d reentered the farm house, signaling that the phone was working—at least temporarily. The message had been from Maddie, and the machine must have picked it up when they were still in bed. That had been the phone call that had awakened him. According to Maddie, Jase Campbell had returned. When Jordan had reached Maddie at Eva Ware Designs, Cash was relieved to learn that Campbell had been with her.
He’d thought for a moment that Jordan was going to lose it when she’d told Maddie about the vandalism in her studio. But she’d rallied. She was an extraordinarily strong woman.
Then Jase Campbell delivered the bad news from their end. Eva Ware’s death was being investigated as a homicide. A witness had seen a car parked across the street and claimed that when Eva Ware had crossed to her apartment building, the car had been aimed straight at her.
On top of that, Jase believed that Eva’s death might be related to the robbery at Eva Ware designs. In Cash’s opinion, that news, added to the terms of Eva Ware’s will, put both Jordan and Maddie in grave jeopardy. It didn’t comfort him that Jase Campbell was on the same page on that score.
“She was murdered,” Jordan said as she turned into him and laid her head on his shoulder.
He wrapped his arms around her. When she tipped her head up to meet his gaze and he saw a tear roll quietly down her cheek, he had a moment of raw panic.
He had no experience handling a woman’s tears. After his mother’s death, he’d been totally surrounded by men. But he had to do something. Jordan had just been dealt a bull’s-eye blow. When Maddie and Jase had given her the news, her face had gone ghost-white. Even now, her breathing was shallow.
Was she going to faint on him? Panic nearly swamped him again.
Easing away, he kept an arm around her shoulder as he led her to the couch. Once he had her settled, he strode back into the kitchen and pulled a bottle of Mike Farrell’s single-malt Scotch out of a cabinet. Carefully, he poured three fingers’ worth into a glass and drank one of them himself.
He recalled that when his mother had died, Mike had brought a bottle to his father, and they’d shared a drink.
It wasn’t the same. He didn’t kid himself about that. His mother had died after a long illness. Even though her passing had been anticipated, the loss had nearly leveled him. Jordan hadn’t had time to prepare herself—not for the hit-and-run and certainly not for the probability that her mother had been murdered. Glass in hand, he strode toward her and sat down on the coffee table facing her. She still hadn’t moved. Praying it would help, he pressed the glass into her hands and said, “Drink it.”
It didn’t make him feel better when she followed his orders like a robot and shuddered.
“I’m going to be all right,” she said. Reaching for his hand, she linked her fingers with his. Who was comforting whom, he wondered.
“I’ll be fine. I just need a moment.”
“I know.”
A second tear rolled down her cheek.
“Take another sip.”
She did. “I thought my mother’s death was an accident. Inexplicable. Tragic.” Jordan sipped again. “Maddie’s so strong. I almost caved. She didn’t. For a moment after they told me, all I could think of was flying back to Manhattan to help them find whoever murdered my mother.”
Poor kid. She had to feel like Chicken Little with huge chunks of the sky falling on her head. She’d lost her mother, then discovered she’d been kept from her father and had a sister she’d never met. And now this.
“Do you think they could be wrong?” Jordan asked.
“How smart is this Jase Campbell?”
“Smart as they come.”
“Then I’m betting he’s right. Can he take care of Maddie?”
“Nobody better,” Jordan said. “I’m so glad that Maddie is with him. She can lean on him, and he’ll make sure she’s safe.”
That had been his own take on the situation. But it occurred to him that during her long ordeal, Jordan hadn’t had anyone to lean on. That much at least, he could change.
Another tear rolled down her cheek. This time she rubbed it away, then glanced down at her hand. “I never cry.”
Good, Cash thought. If he could just keep her talking, perhaps she could ride out the storm that was swirling around inside of her.
“If we go with the theory that your mother was run down on purpose, do you have any idea of who?” His own mind was racing. Her mother had been murdered before the will had been read. What if someone had not benefited as much as they’d hoped or expected? “Who in your family might have wanted her dead?”
Jordan shook her head. “No one. I mean, I told you that my cousin, Adam, always wanted to step into her shoes one day. But I can’t see him doing something like that. His own mother is always complaining that he lacks spine.” She shook her head again. “I don’t know. I just don’t know.”
Tears were rolling down her cheeks now. Cash doubted she was even aware of them. Taking the glass from her hand, he lifted her, then sat on the couch and settled her on his lap.
The floodgates opened. Not sure of what else to do, he kissed the top of her head and simply held her close. When he felt her relax against him and her tears b
egan to soak his shirt, Cash realized that this was better for her than the Scotch.
JORDAN WASN’T SURE how long her little crying jag lasted. It was as if someone had turned on an inner faucet and then just as suddenly turned it off. When Cash pressed a clean hankie into her hand, she blew her nose, then settled back into the crook of his arm.
Letting a shaky sigh escape, she listened to Cash’s heartbeat sure and steady beneath her ear. He didn’t say anything, and she was grateful for that.
As the seconds ticked by in silence, she knew she should move. All her life she’d stood on her own two feet. Because her mother had always been so focused on her art and her design business, Jordan had had learned to take care of herself at an early age. Oftentimes, she’d watched out for her mother, too. During the last few years when she’d worked for Eva Ware Designs, she’d done more than improve the store’s profits. She’d also insisted that she and Eva have a steady lunch date every Wednesday afternoon. After lunch, they would take in a matinee, visit a museum or simply shop. Artists needed breaks from their work to recharge and her mother seldom took one.
Toying with one of the buttons on Cash’s shirt, she thought about her relationship with Jase. She didn’t recall ever using him to lean on, either. Oh, when he’d been around, she’d used him as a sounding board, but she couldn’t recall him ever holding her like this. In fact, she couldn’t recall anyone holding her quite like this. Had she ever let her guard down quite this far? Had she ever felt quite this comforted? Or comfortable?
A trickle of unease moved through her. She had things to do. She’d made a promise to Maddie that she’d handle the jewelry show tomorrow. To do that, she needed to look at the pieces Maddie had stored in the safe, and then she wanted to go into Santa Fe and check out the venue of the jewelry show. She simply couldn’t stay here any longer.
One more minute, she promised herself. His arms were so strong. From her present position, she could see the sharp line of his jaw and his chin. Stubborn, she thought. In that sense, he was like Jase. She’d never won an argument with her apartment mate. There’d been a few draws, she recalled. She had a hunch that if she crossed swords with Cash, he would prove to be just as much of a challenge. This time, it wasn’t unease, but anticipation that moved through her.
Enough. She drew in a deep breath, intending to sit up, but his scent distracted her. Why was it that she couldn’t seem to get enough of it?
Time to move, Jordan. But first…
“I’m sorry,” she murmured.
“For what?”
“For falling apart on you. I never do that.”
“No problem.”
Beneath her ear, his voice was a comfortable rumble. It reminded her of her dream.
Which hadn’t been a dream at all, she reminded herself. She really, really had to get back to reality and what she still had to do today.
“You’re a kind man. I want to thank—” When she raised her head and her mouth accidentally brushed his jaw, her heart gave one good thump and then skipped a beat.
His eyes were so close she could see blue flecks in the gray, and they reminded her of a deep shade of lapis. It occurred to her for the first time how small the world became when you were looking into someone’s eyes.
There was something very important she still had to say. And to do. But for the life of her she couldn’t seem to get a handle on it. Not when his mouth was so close that she could feel his breath on her skin. Not when his earthy scent of leather and sun and soap surrounded her.
“Cash?”
His hand slipped under her chin, tipping her head up, and it seemed the most natural thing in the world when his mouth closed over hers. His lips were so soft. They didn’t demand. They merely caressed. More than anything, she wanted to sink into the comfort they offered and into that odd feeling of coming home.
Then, he suddenly changed the angle of the kiss, and Jordan felt herself swept into that same uncharted territory Cash had taken her to during the night. For a moment, she was incredibly tempted to forget everything else and to lose herself in him and what they could do to each other.
But what had happened during the night had been a fantasy, she reminded herself. And she wasn’t the woman she’d been in her dream.
She pulled back. “We can’t.”
“Why not?”
“Because.” His mouth was barely an inch away, his hand still firm on the back of her neck. Focus, Jordan. Treat this like a business decision. “I don’t have time. There are things I have to do today. Maddie’s jewelry show is tomorrow, so I have to look at her designs and then I want to go into Santa Fe and check out the hotel where the show is being held.”
“The day is still young.”
He wasn’t arguing, she noted, not in any vehement way. He was merely studying her in that intent way he had. And she was outrageously tempted to just shut up. But she had to get a grip. “My life is complicated right now. I have to focus on walking around in my sister’s life. I shouldn’t be sitting here. I should be taking her designs out of the safe and making sure that they’re ready for that show tomorrow.”
She had to get up off his lap and move. She always thought more clearly when she was pacing. But she couldn’t seem to push away. The man didn’t have to do a thing. He just had to be to seduce her.
“Look, you need to know something. What happened last night, the way I was?”
“Yes?”
“That was because of the fantasy I was weaving. I don’t leap into relationships, especially sexual ones. Normally, I’m very cautious. You assumed I was Maddie. I was imagining Gregory Peck. We should just chalk it up to some strange anomaly caused by the storm and forget it happened.”
“Now, that’s a problem.” He leaned close enough to brush his lips over hers. “I can’t seem to get what happened out of my mind. Speaking for myself, I want it to happen again.”
Jordan desperately tried to gather her thoughts. But all she could think about was that she was poised on a cliff and the plunge had never seemed so tempting. Nor so dangerous. Finally, she just went with a lie. “That’s just it. You’re only speaking for yourself.”
“If last night was a fantasy, aren’t you the least bit curious to find out what the reality would be like?”
She’d been right about the challenge of arguing with him. The real problem was that she wasn’t even sure she believed in her side of the argument. She was curious. And his mouth was so close. She was pretty sure she felt her brain cells shutting down. “I…can’t think.”
“Good. Maddie and Gregory aren’t here. Let’s not either of us think for a while.”
This time when his mouth took hers, it wasn’t a caress. It was a demand. Passion flared as immediate and urgent as it had been during the night. If she’d thought that she’d exaggerated the experience in her mind, she was wrong. If anything, what she was feeling now was sharper and much more intense. Her pulse had never hammered this hard. And her body had never ached this desperately. His flavors, rich and dark, exploded on her tongue, and she wrapped her arms around him, demanding more.
Knowing that the wide windows allowed them no privacy, Cash lifted Jordan in his arms and strode toward the nearest bedroom. Everything she’d said had made sense. The woman had a real way with words, and he was developing a keen admiration for the way her mind worked. Under ordinary circumstances, he was a cautious man himself. He didn’t start up casual relationships. Perhaps last night they’d both been caught up in a fantasy of sorts.
And thanks to the damn will, things were complicated. But what he was feeling wasn’t rational. He wasn’t sure that it was even controllable.
He wanted her, and she wanted him. In fact, the urgency that he tasted as her mouth moved on his had him nearly stumbling as he stepped inside the bedroom. Kicking the door shut behind him, he turned and steadied them both against it.
He wasn’t going to take her to the bed. Not yet. He didn’t want any lingering memories of the night before clouding wh
at they were going to do now. As he set her on her feet, their lips parted and she slid down his body. He hadn’t thought he could get any harder. But he did.
Fingers fumbling, they worked together to get her out of T-shirt, bra, boots and jeans. The panties came last. He took one step back as she hooked her fingers into the lace waistband, pushed them down over her hips. The instant she kicked the panties away, he stepped forward, trapping her against the door. His eyes stayed on hers as he took his hands on a slow journey from her hips upward to the sides of her breasts, her throat. Finally, he framed her face with his hands. “Say my name.”
“Cash. Say mine.”
“Jordan.”
5
AS IF THEIR EXCHANGE of names were a signal, Cash closed his hands around her hips and lifted her. She felt the brand of each long finger burn her skin. She wrapped her legs around him, arching into his hard length.
Desperation had built so quickly on the short walk to the bedroom. Hadn’t she just told him that she wasn’t like this? She’d never before plunged into a risky sexual relationship with a man. But no wasn’t a word she could seem to summon up—not when there was such raw heat in his lips and certainly not when there was such a wildfire of need in her own body.
She struggled to hold him close when he pressed her roughly back against the wall.
“Now.” She arched against him again.
“In a…minute.” Using his weight to keep her in position against the door, he gripped her thighs and eased her back a bit.
She heard the rasp of a zipper. Oh.
His knuckles brushed between her legs as he unfastened his jeans and let them drop. Her breath stopped when that last physical barrier between them had been removed. But it seemed to take him forever to toe off his boots and step out of his jeans. Finally, the head of his penis was pressing against her, so hard, so hot. So close.
The sensations careening through her intensified. No one had ever made her feel this way.
Now. Right now. She wasn’t sure if she said the words or thought them.
