by Bobbi Smith
"Nick ...are you sure I'll use all this?" Jordan interrupted.
Nick was surprised by her comment. Through the years he'd purchased gifts for other women, but they'd always wanted more from him, not less.
"Trust me in this. Once our engagement is announced, there will be more social invitations than you can imagine. Since I can afford it, allow me this pleasure."
Nick's tone was deep and mellow and sent a small shiver up Jordan's spine. For just a moment she allowed herself to believe he really meant it, that he was enjoying this, but his next statement shattered that illusion.
"You know how important it is that you look your very best," he finished.
The feeling of intimacy his first words had evoked vanished, and Jordan was forced to remind herself that this was all only an act. He had simply phrased everything that way for the seamstress's benefit. She was playing the part of his fiancee, and it was essential that she dressed the part. That was all.
"Mr. Kane's taste is flawless," Eleanor complimented. "Every garment he's chosen will be delightful on you. Shall we consider your more delicate accessories now?"
Now came the hard part, Nick thought as he sat back. The two women discussed the intimate underthings Jordan would need and the material to be used. He attempted only to half listen to their conversation, but as they went over the merits of soft muslin, sheer batiste, and clinging silk, an unbidden image of Jordan clad only in a delicately revealing shift drifted through his thoughts. Against his will his blood stirred. He let his gaze drift around the shop as he tried to distract himself. But even as he did so, the scent of her perfumed soap and the feel of her sitting so close beside him taunted him. He felt trapped, and his discomfort grew.
"Would that be all right with you, Nick?" Jordan was asking as she glanced at him for approval of her final selections.
"Whatever," he replied abruptly, not quite sure what she was asking and not about to let her know that he hadn't been paying attention.
Jordan gave him a puzzled look at his curtness, but she had no time to question him. The seamstress stood up.
"Good. It's all settled then," Eleanor added. "Shall we see about taking your measurements now? Then we'll be done for today."
Relief showed plainly on Nick's handsome features. "Good."
"Obviously, you haven't done this very often," Eleanor observed.
"Actually, this is my first time."
"Well, your fiancee is most fortunate to have you along. Don't you agree, miss?"
"Absolutely. Without Nick, none of this would have been possible."
They both knew what she was talking about, but to Eleanor they just seemed like a couple madly in love.
Nick was glad for the reprieve when the two women disappeared into the curtained-off fitting room. He drew a deep breath and told himself that it would all be over soon. When he looked up again, Nick was surprised to find that the curtain had not been fully drawn across the fitting area and that he could see Jordan's reflection in the mirror inside.
Nick knew the proper thing to do. He knew he should either adjust the curtain himself or at least warn the women that it had not been properly drawn. And he fully intended to do so, but when Jordan slipped out of her daydress and stepped up on the small platform in the middle of the room clad only in her chemise, he froze. His gaze raked boldly over her mirrored image, lingering on the soft swell of her breasts beneath the worn cotton of her shift. His body reacted fiercely to the sight of her. Nick moved uneasily in his seat, but he could not tear his eyes away.
"Your fiance certainly has a natural talent for knowing what looks good on you," Eleanor commented to Jordan as she took out her tape and began to measure her.
"He certainly does. I had no idea he was so observant." As Jordan spoke, she happened to cast a quick look at her own reflection only to find herself staring at Nick.
The sight of Jordan so scantily clad set a flame burning fiercely within Nick, and he made no effort to pretend he wasn't watching her. In fact, his appraising regard remained boldly upon her, savoring the view.
Time stood still as their eyes met and locked in the mirror. Jordan's breath caught in her throat, and her heart suddenly began to hammer in her breast. She wanted to look away, but there was something so magnetic... so compelling about him that she found she couldn't. She was held a willing captive of his gaze, and she was only freed from it when the seamstress shifted her position and inadvertently brushed the curtain the rest of the way closed,
Nick couldn't believe the near violent reaction he had when the curtain was suddenly shut. He longed to throw wide the offending drape and take Jordan in his arms. Only his firmly established common sense held him back. She was attractive, but so what? So were a lot of other women. Besides, Jordan had made it perfectly clear last night that she was completely happy with their arrangement, and he was going to keep it that way. Just because she was going to pretend to be his wife didn't make her one.
He stood up and began to pace the shop in agitation, wishing this foolishness was over and done with so they could leave. When, at long last, Jordan and Eleanor reappeared, he was more than ready to depart.
"We're finished for now," the couteriere announced. "How soon do you need these things?"
"As quickly as possible," Nick told her. "There will be a substantial bonus for you if you can have the entire wardrobe completed within the week."
Eleanor knew it would mean a lot of hard work and long hours, but she didn't hesitate to agree. It was far too large an order to risk losing it. "That will be fine."
"By the way, do you have anything here today that Jordan could wear now?" He was already tired of seeing her in the plain gown. "Something nicer than this everyday one?"
"Nick... another gown?" Jordan interrupted, honestly taken aback.
"I think I may have just the thing," Eleanor said with enthusiasm, pleased at the prospect of getting Jordan out of that dreadful dress. "I made a daygown for a lady some time ago, and she never came back to pick it up. Let me get it for you so you can see what you think."
Alone in the outer room, Jordan turned to Nick, her eyes wide and questioning. "Are you sure you want to do this? I mean, you've already spent a small fortune on me. I could just wear this dress until the others are ready."
Nick found her willingness to make do with what she had endearing. "It will probably take the full week to get your other things, and I have a feeling you might be ready for a change long before then."
"Actually, I'm ready for a change now, but you've been so generous already. I don't want to take advan tage of you," she confessed, hating the gown but knowing it had served its purpose well.
"You're not taking advantage of me, Jordan, but if it will make you feel better, think of this as an investment in both of our futures."
Put that way, it reminded her of their true purpose and tempered her happiness. "I'm grateful for your generosity."
"Gratitude is not what I want from you, Jordan." For some reason, her statement irritated him.
"Here we are," Eleanor announced excitedly as she came bustling back into the room with a blue gown thrown over her arm. "I can't believe our luck. It's nothing very fancy, but I do think it will do until all your others are ready. It might even fit without any major alterations. Shall we go try it on?"
"I'll be right back." Jordan disappeared back into the dressing room following the seamstress.
The thought of Jordan standing in her chemise just beyond the curtain again left Nick feeling very restless. He stared at the closed drape for a long minute, as if debating something within, and then contented himself with walking around the store to distract his thoughts.
Nick was trying to rationalize what he was feeling for Jordan. He told himself that she was just a woman like any other. He'd known many in his time, and none of them had made a very lasting impression on him. He'd shared good times with them, and he'd shared more than a few of their beds, when they'd been willing, but when the affairs end
ed he'd gone on his way to his next encounter without so much as a backward thought. Surely, he reasoned, Jordan was just like all the others. Surely this unexpected magnetism that existed between them would pass and he'd be able to forget all about her when the time came.
"Nick? What do you think?"
At the sound of Jordan's voice, Nick turned to face her. Though he gave the appearance of being unaffected by the change in her, actually he was very much aware of the difference. The gown fit her to perfection, nipping in at the slim waist and flaring out fully over the new petticoats Eleanor had provided. Its vibrant blue color brought out the loveliness of Jordan's complexion and the tawny beauty of her hair.
"It's fine. We'll take it."
"Wonderful. I'll just put your other dress in a box for you and then you can be on your way."
Jordan waited as Nick gave the couturiere their room number at the hotel and then paid a substantial deposit on the order.
"I'll send word to you just as soon as the gowns are ready for a final fitting, Mr. Kane," Eleanor promised.
"We'll be expecting to hear from you soon."
Nick gathered up the box containing the hated dress and then escorted Jordan outside. The visit to the seamstress had taken the better of the morning, and it was time they returned to the hotel to be there when Harrison arrived to pick up his final payment. Nick flagged down a coach, helped Jordan in, and then climbed in beside her after giving the driver directions to their hotel.
"Since your gowns won't be ready for quite a while, we're going to have some time on our hands. Is there anything in particular you'd like to do or see while we're here in Mobile?" Nick asked.
"I don't really know anything about Mobile. But if we're anywhere close to the seashore, I'd love to go there," Jordan replied without hesitation as she watched the passing city out the carriage window.
"I'll see if we can arrange an outing for us later this afternoon. I'm not sure how far it is, but we should be able to make it."
"I haven't been to the shore since I went with my parents when I was young." She turned back to him, smiling.
Staring at Jordan now, looking so relaxed and happy, Nick thought she barely seemed old enough to be on her own, let alone to have had a lover already. Nick scowled at the unwanted thought.
"How old are you, Jordan? I don't believe you ever told me your birthdate."
"I just turned eighteen in February, on the twentieth, actually," she answered, a bit bewildered by the sudden fierceness of his expression. "What about you?"
"I'll be twenty-seven on the twenty-fourth of August," he answered, his frown fading a little.
"You're old," she teased, hoping to lighten the mood of the conversation.
"I prefer to think of myself as mature," Nick countered, his frown disappearing completely as he gave her a lopsided grin. "Although there are a few people who would disagree with my assessment, my father among them."
"Tell me more about your father. He sounded rather intimidating when you spoke of him last night. What if he doesn't like me?"
"I don't think you have a thing to worry about," Nick replied reassuringly. The more time he spent with her, the more convinced he became that he'd made the perfect choice. He felt reasonably certain that his father was going to take to her right away. She was pretty and intelligent, she could read and write; and she was good company. All he had to do was make sure there was no hint of a scandal where her involvement with Montgomery was concerned, and everything would go well.
"I hope you're right."
"I am. You'll see. Women generally like my father a great deal, and he feels the same way about them. Although he never remarried after my mother's death, he's never been without women friends."
"He sounds nice."
"He is," Nick said in a slightly strangled voice. It hurt to talk about his father. He loved him and he didn't want to lose him.
Nick's comment caused Jordan to glance over at him. There was no trace of any telltale emotion in his expression, so she decided she'd just imagined that he'd sounded upset. After all, she knew the truthNick was only after his inheritance.
They both fell silent as the carriage wound its way back to the hotel. Lost in thought, they stared out the windows at the passing scenery of Mobile, with its charming, iron-lace bedecked houses, tall oaks, and lush gardens filled with flowering azaleas and oleanders.
When they reached their destination, Nick descended first and then aided Jordan. His hands at her waist, he swung her down. The contact turned electric when she accidently brushed full-length against him as he set her down. Time hung suspended as they paused there before the hotel entrance, staring spellbound at each other. Only the driver's crude clearing of his throat dragged them both back to reality. Jordan quickly moved off, leaving Nick to settle the fare.
Slater and Philip had already returned to the hotel and had stopped in the lobby for a minute so Slater could speak with the man at the desk. Philip saw Jordan the moment she entered, and since Nick was nowhere to be seen, he felt bold enough to greet her.
"Jordan!" he called out happily as he crossed the room to join her.
The familiar sound of Philip's voice drew Jordan's attention, and her face lit up at this first sight of him since the terrible interlude the night before.
"Philip! It's so good to see you..." He'd obviously just been to the barber shop, for he was clean-shaven once more, and Slater had treated him to a suit of new clothes, too, for he looked very much like his old self again in a white shirt and dark pants. Jordan thought he looked most handsome. She touched his arm in an innocent gesture. "You look wonderful."
"So do you," her brother told her as he took in the new gown she was wearing. She looked happy enough, and it pleased him to find that Kane was treating her well. He'd been worrying about her all day, but it looked as if things were going all right.
"Thank you. Nick's being very good to me."
"You're sure?"
"There's nothing to worry about," she promised. "He's basically a good man, and I trust him."
Philip heard something in her voice that troubled him. "Don't trust him too much."
"Why?"
"Because we have no friends, Jordan. Don't ever forget what we're running from," he warned, knowing the dangers they faced were far from over.
Reminded of the ugliness of what had happened in London, Jordan paled. "You're right, I know."
"I just don't want you to be hurt, that's all. You can't let yourself come to care about anyone or anything. At least, not until our indentureship is over and we're far away from here. All right?"
She nodded tightly, smiling once more to convince him she could do it. "All right."
Nick came into the lobby just then, and he stopped dead at the sight of Jordan deep in conversation with Montgomery. Anger rushed through him, and it was all he could do not to yank her away from the indenture. Hadn't he told her to stay away from him? Hadn't he warned her about continuing her association with him?
Tempting as it was for Nick to consider calling the whole thing off, logic won out. He'd already invested far too much money in the scheme to back out now. No, he decided, he was going to go through with it and so was she. All he had to do was find a way to make sure Jordan and Montgomery were kept apart, every minute of every day, and he knew exactly how to do it...
His expression was stony as he crossed the lobby to join Slater at the desk. He waited patiently until his friend had completed his business and then took him aside to tell him what he wanted done that afternoon.
Slater was feeling quite smug as he settled into the seat of the hired carriage opposite his companion.
"Are you comfortable, Miss Layton?"
"Yes, thank you, Mr. MacKenzie," replied Audrey Layton, the prim, sixty-year-old, silver-haired spinster he'd just hired to act as Jordan's chaperone. She folded her gloved hands in her lap.
"Since we're going to be spending a lot of time together over the next several weeks, I'd be honored if y
ou'd call me Slater," he offered.
"Oh, no, sir, that would never do. I'll call you Mr. MacKenzie, as is proper." She stiffened a little, shocked that he'd even suggest such a thing. To her way of thinking, it would be scandalous to be so familiar with him.
Slater half smiled. He'd been right in his assessment. Audrey was perfect. She was just what Nick wanted. She might not prove to be what he needed, but she certainly fit the bill as a strict guardian to protect Jordan's reputation.
"I'll abide by your wishes, but know that the invitation is always there should you change your mind."
"Yes, sir. Now, tell me more about this young lady I'm to accompany to Riverwood plantation in Louisi ana. You say she's English and her fiance is Dominic Kane of the Riverwood Kanes?"
"That's right. Jordan Douglas just arrived from London late last night."
"So she's already spent one night alone without proper supervision?" She was alarmed, fearful that the young lady's reputation might already be damaged.
"We weren't certain when she would arrive, and, as it happened, it was very late when we finally did meet her at the docks." Slater told himself firmly that he was not lying to her. "There was no time to arrange for a chaperone then, but it was one of our main concerns today. We know that the future wife of Dominic Kane must be above reproach."
"As I recall, I had the pleasure of meeting Charles Kane and his wife once years ago when I was visiting with relatives in New Orleans. They were a wonderful couple, and I was quite saddened when I heard later that she'd passed on."
"It was a terrible tragedy for them, but Charles, with Nick's help, went on to build Riverwood into one of the best plantations on the Mississippi."
"Dominic Kane..."Audrey pursed her lips and her expression turned thoughtful. "I'm afraid I've heard nothing about the young man, but coming from the wonderful family background that he does, I'm sure he's quite an upstanding young man."
"Oh, yes." Slater agreed as seriously as he could.
"Then I foresee no problems at all with our arrangement."
