Chapter 43
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
This was by far the best Valentine’s Day she’d ever had.
Occasionally, she caught a wave of scent from the rose on her corsage, and she couldn’t help but smile, imagining Jordan in a flower shop picking something out for her.
Since they hadn’t had much time apart in the last three days, she figured he must have snuck out while she was sleeping.
The thought of him stealthily planning Valentine’s surprises for her made her heart flutter in a way it never had before.
She was used to people admiring her, putting her on pedestals, and spending money on her. But she was less used to someone going out of his way to make her feel truly special.
When their food arrived, the waiter handed her the Tuscan salad she ordered, and Jordan eyed it without a word. His steak and lobster looked decadent, but she still had the biggest fashion show of her life coming up in a few days. It was time to buckle down.
While they ate, the conversation was light and easy. Jordan peppered her with questions, everything from what her favorite movie was to her travels. He’d never left the United States, and she realized what a privilege it was to do so.
She’d grown up with hardworking immigrant parents, but they’d always put money aside for the odd trips back to Italy to visit relatives. When her modeling career had taken off, she’d traveled to France, Italy, and Japan several times a year.
His earlier stories about his upbringing and prison were eye-opening, heartbreaking, and humbling. That he trusted her with a piece of himself, one he didn’t share with many, was something she did not take for granted.
But this easy flow of banter was also comforting. Normal. Desirable. She imagined cozy nights with him in the cottage, cooking comfort food and talking. Watching movies with her feet on his lap and making love late into the night on the king-sized bed.
When she thought of those things, she never wanted to leave.
But then she remembered everything. Her career, what Kurt had taken from her, what her stalker was trying to take, and she knew she couldn’t walk away from it all to live in a beach house with her gentle giant.
Reality was calling, and it was getting louder.
Jordan cut a piece of lobster and dragged it through the garlic butter and held it out to her. “I’ve been watching you eye this all dinner. Have a bite.”
“I have a big show in three days,” she told him, her gaze tracking the dripping lobster.
“I know,” he rumbled, not sounding the least bit excited about the prospect. “We’re heading back tomorrow.”
Her gaze snapped back to his. “We are?” For a while, she thought he might not let her go. That he’d pull some alpha control move and give her another spiel about her safety and her dire situation.
But he shrugged as he met her gaze. “You’ve earned this opportunity. It’s your career. You need to be there.”
Hot tears surged, and she blinked them back before they gave her away. How was she supposed to hop on a plane and fly away from this man? Why did her traitorous heart have to choose him?
Seeming oblivious to her inner turmoil, he waved the bite of food in front of her. “Take it.”
Lobster was one of her favorites, and the way he’d generously dipped the meat in the butter had her salivating. The fork gleamed in the candlelight, butter dripping like gold, and her mouth parted before she could stop it.
Her lips closed around the savory morsel, and flavor burst on her tongue. It was warm and delicious. A low, satisfied moan purred from her throat.
Jordan’s pupils dilated as he watched her. “More?” His voice was rough.
She nodded, and he gave her another forkful. She relished it as much as the first. After that, the conversation was more stilted, filled with the anticipation of what was coming when they got home. A new kind of hunger grew with every bite they took of their meals.
In the last three days, they must have fucked three hundred times, but by the time he paid the bill she was ready to sprint home like a horny teenager. He appeared to share her feelings.
She was all over him the second the restaurant door closed behind them. Arms around his broad neck, her lips found his with practiced ease.
He held her close, his large palms sliding under her new coat, then up along the bare skin of her back, making her shiver.
“Shit.” Jordan pulled away, likely mistaking her shiver for cold. She would’ve protested, but he took her hand and led her down the walkway to the waiting car.
They slid onto the backseat, where she snuggled against him.
With no partition in the vehicle, the driver would only have to glance in the rearview to see her wanton display.
But this yearning inside her had a life of its own.
After simmering all day, it was now an inferno she couldn’t control, and didn’t want to.
Jordan shifted his enormous body, curving over hers to protect her privacy. “Princess, slow down. We have all night.”
Her eyes met his, and she knew they must have appeared wild, desperate. “But we leave tomorrow.”
Her words hung between them, weightless, until he said, “That’s why I want to take it slow.
” He brushed his nose up the length of her neck, inhaling deeply.
“That’s why—” He nipped the curve of her jaw, then her ear, and the rush of warmth doubled in her core.
“I want to take you home and fuck you for hours. Slow and steady. Hard and fast. Over and over.” His breath caught, and he sounded tortured.
“I want to fuck you like you’re mine…and always will be. ”
Blood beat in her eardrums, her chest heaved, her nipples ached. Every part of her body burned, for him.
And then it was cold, and she realized he’d shifted because the car had arrived at the beach house.
The walk up the stone path was a blur, her mind reeling with what he’d said in the car. I want to fuck you like you’re mine…and always will be.
They lived in the twenty-first century. There were planes, and FaceTime, and instant messaging. Long-distance relationships worked all the time. Why couldn’t it work for them?
Jordan unlocked the front door and immediately began his usual sweep of the property, gesturing for her to follow him to the living room. For the first time since their mutual disdain turned into something softer and sweeter, she let herself imagine a future with him.
They spoke about it as though it were destined to end. As though there were no way it could continue. Maybe all the odds were stacked against them, but was a relationship really impossible?
A gray and white flash of fur bolted across the floor toward her, and she stooped to sweep Nigel up in her arms. All things considered, he’d adapted quite nicely to the beach house.
He’d only had one accident as far as she could tell, unless Jordan was cleaning them up and not telling her—a thought which made her heart melt a bit more.
She wandered to the kitchen and set Nigel down. He waited patiently at her feet as she grabbed carrot peelings and lettuce out of the fridge and dropped them in his bowl.
She stroked him behind the ears as he munched on his food. Ivy and Sean would be home by now. They’d want their bunny.
Tears blurred her vision again as she ran her palm over Nigel’s soft coat. Another male she’d grown far too attached to. Someone else she’d given her heart to and could never have. She wasn’t sure her heart could bear it.
When she straightened, she caught Jordan leaning against the counter. All broad muscles, long limbs, and piercing eyes. What would a relationship with a man like him be like?
Relationship. The word was scary and big.
The disasters she’d experienced in the past had led to the absolute destruction of herself.
One had betrayed her trust in the worst possible way.
The other had corrupted her so completely she ended up unrecognizable even to herself.
She hated who she’d become when she’d been with them.
And still she’d called those relationships. But this connection with Jordan was already so much bigger than anything she’d ever had with anyone else. She wanted to be with him, but more than that, she wanted what was best for him. She wanted him to be happy.
She imagined him flying to New York for a weekend. Or waiting in Portland until the next time she had a window to return. She imagined the stress of keeping their relationship out of the limelight.
It was doable, but was it what she wanted for him?
Abruptly, he rounded the counter and came to her, so close she had to tilt her head to maintain eye-contact. He cupped her chin, his thumb brushing her cheekbone. “You’ve been crying.”
“Not really,” she mumbled, embarrassed that he’d caught her in a moment of self-pity.
When he didn’t look away, or seem convinced, she pointed at Nigel, still munching carrot peels on the kitchen floor. “I blame him. I don’t want to give him back.”
The tears rushed in again. She wasn’t sure if she moved first or if he tugged her toward him, but the next thing she knew, she was buried against his chest, her tears soaking his shirt.
“I should’ve known better than to get attached,” she sobbed. To Nigel. To him.
Jordan held her, his grip around her shoulders tightening, like he knew exactly what she meant.
After a long moment, she drew away. She had plans for tonight, and a pity party wasn’t one of them. “I need ten minutes.”
The line between his eyes creased. “Why?”
She offered him a soft smile. “Because this is our last night together here, and I don’t want to waste it.”