Marriage in Name Only? (6 page)

‘Seductive words.’ And she refused to be seduced so easily. ‘So were you intoxicated the last time you kissed me?’

‘Stone-cold sober, as a matter of fact. And it was hardly a kiss.’

And she’d have agreed with him no matter how devastatingly intimate the kiss had seemed at the time, but before she could get a word out his mouth pounced on hers. Bold, predatory and without warning.

Reacting on instinct, her hands rushed up to push at his chest—to push him away—but her fingers had a mind of their own; they clutched at his jacket lapels and held on tight. Forget keeping her distance—how could she push him away when right now she wanted his mouth on hers more than air? Her eyes slid shut.

He deepened the kiss and she answered, her lips parting willingly beneath his demanding tongue. His taste was dark and rich, smooth and velvety—a moan rose up her throat—those
after-dinner delights
she’d been thinking of earlier and then some.

He dragged his hands down her sides, over her waist, the flare of her hips. Lower. Big hands spreading across her buttocks, tucking her in close, so that she could feel the hot, hard length of him.

Heat and sizzle and danger. It was like being swept up in a forest fire and her entire body was turning to flame. She might have tried again to stop him and to make some sense of … whatever this was, but her brain was frazzled from all the heat and the message wasn’t getting through to her limbs.

He lifted his lips a fraction. ‘Now
that’s
a kiss,’ he murmured. She felt his hands lift away from her body, coolness drifting in to take their place. She pried her heavy-lidded eyes open to see him staring down at her, a gleam in his gaze that had nothing to do with the hall light’s reflection.

Ah … ‘Mmm-hmm.’ She cleared the sigh from her throat and admitted, ‘That’s a kiss all right …’ Pressing her tingling lips together, she kept her back propped against the wall, still captive beneath his gaze. ‘I just need to …’
breathe
. ‘I need time. To think.’ If she still had any brain cells left intact, that was.

‘Think fast, then. We’re booked on the evening flight out tomorrow night. It’s non-stop, which gives us roughly forty hours before we arrive in Dubai.’

‘What?’ She felt some of her precious independence trickle away. ‘You booked before I agreed,’ she shot at him.

‘I was—’

‘Confident,’ she snapped. ‘Yes, I get that.’

He nodded, his eyes smiling. ‘It pays to think positive.’

She glared. ‘You even asked if I had prior commitments. You had no intention of letting me honour them, did you?’

No response. Conversation over. His body heat mingled with musky male scent and suddenly he was too close, the space between them too confining, and she shuffled to one side.

He remained still, allowing her to step away. But she knew tigers were motionless just before they moved in for the kill. She tore her eyes free and moved as swiftly as her rubber legs allowed towards the kitchen.

She heard Jordan’s heavy footsteps on the floorboards. His dark flavour lingered on her lips, her tongue. ‘Coffee,’ she muttered, then over her shoulder, ‘We don’t have a coffee machine. It’s instant or nothing.’

‘Instant’s fine,’ he said, all easy-to-please, but she could
feel his eyes on her back and something potent and irresistible shivered down her spine. That big tabby cat tongue again.

She slowed at the doorway to the lounge room and gestured inside without looking at him. ‘Why don’t you make yourself comfortable in there? Put the heater on if you want. I won’t be long.’

Jordan sank onto the couch but he was hardly comfortable. With the way his body reacted to this woman, he wondered if he’d ever be comfortable again. A way too full-on, over-the-top response for a girl who wasn’t supposed to be his type.

The last thing he needed was a gas wall furnace; what he needed was a cold shower. He tried focusing on his surroundings. A couple of mismatched armchairs, coffee table covered in a Christmas print cloth and topped with an untidy pile of magazines. Travellers’ photos on the walls; presumably her house-mates’, the flight attendants. Nothing in the room said Chloe. Maybe she’d not had time to put her mark on the place or maybe she never stopped long enough to make a place home.

Despite her insistence that she loved her solo lifestyle, he found the thought of her alone and itinerant for so long a little sad. Her words and actions proved she also believed family was important despite how they’d treated her. He found that sad as well.

‘Couldn’t remember if you take sugar.’

He turned at the sound of her voice. ‘I gave it up.’

‘Good for you.’ She handed him a cup, then moved to the gas heater mounted on the wall. ‘You’re not cold?’

‘No, but go ahead if you are. Or you could come over here.’ He patted the empty space beside him.

‘I think we both know that’s not a good idea.’ Her eyes swirled with more of that heated awareness but beneath it he saw a reserve, a barrier, that hadn’t been there before he’d kissed her against that wall. She stood in front of the grille,
hugging her mug to her lips while the heater powered up. ‘When I mentioned “getting acquainted”, I meant everyday things we should know about each other like …’

‘Family,’ he said for her. ‘You can start.’

‘Okay,’ she said slowly. ‘I have a brother and a sister, both much older than me. Donna’s married to Jason, an accountant, and they have a teenage son. She has a degree in arts and another in classical studies but she’s been a stay-at-home mum for the past fifteen years. Caleb’s a physio with a degree in architecture on the side and married to Jenny, his receptionist, who’s studying natural medicine.’

Wow. Academic over-achievers, all of them. No wonder Chloe felt she didn’t fit in. He frowned as something occurred to him. ‘Donna’s the one expecting your financial rescue package?’

Chloe sipped her coffee, then nodded. ‘She’s the one who kept in contact, as infrequent as that is.’

‘So tell me something,’ he said, slowly. ‘With two older siblings, why is the onus on you to bail the parents out?’

‘Caleb’s mother-in-law’s a widow, she’s terminally ill and he’s footing the medical bills. Brother-in-law, Jason, the accountant who should know better, lost his money in a failed business venture last year. Donna’s “looking for suitable work”.’ She shrugged. ‘Donna’s been “looking for suitable work” for the past ten of those fifteen years.’ She raised her mug towards him. ‘Your turn.’

‘You know about Dad. My mother’s not in my life and I’m an only child.’

She studied him over the rim of her mug. ‘You’re going to need to do better than that.’

The old bad lodged in his gut, the familiar lead ball he’d carried around since childhood. He didn’t want to talk about the woman who’d given birth to him. Ina was nothing to him.
She didn’t exist. But he couldn’t ignore the fact that she was married to the man who wanted this deal as much as Jordan.

His emotions must have showed because her eyes turned soft and compassionate. ‘I’m sorry, Jordan, if it’s a painful topic for you, but I need to know more if we’re going to do this thing. Is she …?’

She trailed off awkwardly and Jordan helped her out. ‘Ina’s alive and doing very nicely for herself.’ Jaw tight, he filled Chloe in on his mother’s second marriage with the owner of his business rival. He did
not
delve further into their relationship and was relieved when Chloe didn’t push it.

‘I’m understanding more about why this is all so important to you,’ she said, still watching him with those liquid sympathy eyes. ‘I’m sorry you and your mum can’t get on.’

He’d never seen that look directed at him before. Or maybe he’d never looked for it. He wasn’t looking for it now; it was just … there. Was he seeing more in Chloe’s eyes than he saw in other women’s? Which begged the question, why? He wasn’t sure he wanted to know.

He did know that he didn’t want sympathy, didn’t want what it stirred up inside him, or the associated feelings that came with it. ‘I like to win.’

It wasn’t revenge or even satisfaction he was seeking. This deal with Dubai was about honouring his father and closure.

Chloe nodded. ‘And I like to finish what I start.’

As long as it doesn’t take too long,
he finished for her. Frankly, the fact that she liked to finish things surprised him.

So, this little adventure wouldn’t take long and the reward was huge, for both of them. He pushed up from the couch and raised his mug in salute. ‘We
will
win this, Chloe.’

She raised her mug too, and smiled, her eyes alive with enthusiasm. ‘Dubai, here we come.’

‘H
OW NEWLYWED ARE
we talking?’ Chloe asked when they got down to business ten minutes later. She’d unearthed a notepad from the kitchen and was committing their ideas to paper for future reference. She’d drawn up two columns: one for plans—flights, accommodation, sightseeing she intended to get in while she was there; the other for ‘getting acquainted’. Such as background and personal details, real and invented. It kept her hands busy, her eyes down and also helped her to keep everything on a professional level.

‘We’re combining business with our honeymoon.’

A small smile hooked the corner of her mouth. ‘That doesn’t make you a very good husband.’

‘But you’re a very supportive wife and you understand my commitment to business. Besides, once you’d manipulated me into popping the question, you didn’t want to wait another day.’

Manipulated?
She did look up at him then and noticed a tightening around his mouth, which transformed into a lopsided grin when he caught her staring at him.

‘But I’m happy you did, Blondie,’ he assured her quickly.

‘Yeah? For how long?’ She couldn’t imagine anyone manipulating Jordan but the stormy depths of his gaze told her someone had tried.

‘Eternity. Right?’

She narrowed her eyes. ‘Have you been married before?’

‘No.’

Do I look stupid?
She received his message loud and clear. His blatant cynicism annoyed her. ‘You’d better change that attitude before we get there or it’ll be game over before we start,’ she said, frowning back at her notes. ‘Seriously.’

‘I am serious. How can you doubt it after the time and effort and expense I’m putting in to make it happen?’

‘Right.’ She wrote COMMITMENT PHOBIC in her ‘getting acquainted’ column. She believed in marriage when two people loved and trusted each other and were committed to making it work. But after Stewart, she didn’t believe that she personally could do the trust or even the long-term bit. Or maybe she was afraid to believe.

Did that make her as commitment phobic as him? she wondered momentarily. Not at all, she told herself. She wasn’t phobic, just … careful. Right?

‘I’m also serious about sharing a little pleasure around the business aspect,’ he said.

‘Well, maybe I’m not.’ She added APPROACH AT OWN PERIL to the list and slapped her notepad shut.

‘You were enjoying it fine a few moments ago.’ His eyes dared her to take issue with the inconvenient truth.

‘You didn’t give me time to … to change my mind,’ she said, dismissing their kiss. ‘I wasn’t ready.’

‘You’ve been ready since the last time we bumped lips.’ Bracing his forearms on his knees, he gave her that sexy grin that made her want to throw herself onto the couch next to him and beg him to do it again.

‘No.’

‘Come on, you were curious. And it was good, right?’

She exhaled through her nostrils. ‘Okay. Fine. It was good.’

‘As good as you expected?’

He just had to keep pushing, didn’t he? ‘It was right up
there with white-water rafting, New Year’s Eve sky shows and soft-centre chocolates. Satisfied?’

‘Not nearly.’

‘But it’s not going to happen again,’ she went on, tapping her notebook with her pen. ‘It muddies our business relationship.’

His grin widened. ‘I disagree. Our business relationship is about making our “recent marriage” look legitimate to our target audience.’

‘We can still do that.
I
can still do that. It’s what you’re paying me for.’ Which reminded her—the purpose of tonight’s meeting. ‘Think of me as a conservative, no-nonsense, PA …’

‘Hard to imagine when none of those labels suit you.’

‘Then
don’t
think or imagine, just listen and discuss.’ Flipping open her notepad again, she clicked her pen. ‘Accommodation—’

‘Already taken care of.’ He grinned, the lines around his eyes crinkling. He shrugged when she glared. ‘Can’t help it—I do like an enthusiastic partner.’

An image played behind her eyes. A very active, very inappropriate image.
He means business partner, Chloe
. Didn’t he? ‘I … You’re making this difficult.’

‘Tell you what, we can go over this tomorrow evening at the airport or onboard our flight,’ he said, setting his mug on the coffee table in front of him. ‘It’s late. We’ll call it a night.’

She let out a sigh. ‘You don’t know how relieved I am to hear that. I have so much to organise. To pack.’

But her entire wardrobe fitted into one large suitcase and her relief was short-lived. The Jordan Blackstone she’d seen online dated stunning, statuesque women who knew how to dress to impress. He’d have been better off choosing someone with a sense of fashion who already knew the role to play the
part. ‘I’m not a fashionista—I’m more of a jeans and T-shirt kind of girl. What am I expected to wear?’

‘We’ll have a day to shop when we get there.’ He rose, pulling a bunch of keys from his trouser pocket and drawing her attention to where it shouldn’t be drawn. ‘I’ll call you in the morning.’

She followed his broad shape down the hall, trying not to admire the back of his tanned neck below the neat trim of dark hair. That earlier anticipation was sparking again, like two live wires touching.

Was he going to try to kiss her good night?

Was she going to let him?

But he opened the door then leaned close, kissed her chastely on the cheek. ‘‘Night, Blondie.’ He stepped out into the evening.

‘‘Night …’ She felt like a teenager, giddy with first-date fever, hanging on to the doorframe and wishing he’d come back and kiss her again, properly this time. ‘And thanks for the wonderful dinner.’

His playful gaze didn’t waver but a hint of something more intimate infused the cerulean with shades of midnight, making her heart leap beneath her breastbone.

‘The first of many wonderful things,’ he said, jingling his keys in his hand. ‘Now get some sleep.’

She intended to. She had a feeling she was going to need it.
The first of many wonderful things
. His words—a promise?—danced in her head like sugar plum fairies. It was going to be next to impossible to keep her mind focused where it needed to be.

It was going to be next to impossible to keep his mind focused where it needed to be. Jordan lowered his window and let the winter’s damp chill wrap around his neck as he drove
back to his apartment. Perhaps it would help cool his blood and redirect it to his brain instead of his groin.

For God’s sake.

He barely noticed that the view of Melbourne’s CBD through his windscreen was blurred with rain—he was too preoccupied with thinking about the way Chloe’s hair had felt against his fingers. Its cool, delicate fragrance and how it would feel brushing low over his belly as she—

Damn
. He blew out a disgusted breath, shifting in his seat and tightening his grip on the wheel. He’d never had trouble focusing and he wasn’t starting now. Chloe Montgomery might be his current red-hot fantasy but she was a means to an end and he was forgetting what was important here. She was being paid to play a role, and with her help he was finally going to settle an old debt.

But he recalled her stunned surprise when he’d planted that first proper kiss on her soft lips and couldn’t help the smile that touched his mouth. The delightful way she’d tried to push away only to change her mind. The feel of her firm breasts against his chest. Her taste—sweet and spice and everything nice.

He turned into his apartment complex’s underground parking. The security door rose with a hum. Not the only thing humming, he thought, still smiling, as he drove through then manoeuvred into his parking spot. He couldn’t wait for tomorrow evening. To see her again. To be on his way. To move forward with the next stage of his life.

Yeah, everything about this trip was going to be sweet.

Dawn was grey with a dusky pink glow, the city’s twinkling blanket of lights spread out below when Jordan embarked on a rigorous morning workout a few sleepless hours later.

In the interim, he’d spoken at length with Qasim and everything was arranged with their meeting in two days’ time.
He’d confirmed the accommodation, the best that money could buy, and organised a driver to be on call while they were there.

He was cycling hard and going nowhere to the beat of his favourite rock band when a lemon sun, partially obscured by high-rises, lifted into the sky at seven-thirty. Through his gym’s floor-to-ceiling glass, Jordan watched the caterpillars of traffic below crawl along and figured Chloe should be up by now.

Still pedalling, he disconnected his music, scrolled to her number and turned his phone on loudspeaker.

She answered on the second ring—’’Lo’—filling the room with her husky, sleepy, too-close-for-comfort murmur.

‘You’re not still in bed, are you?’

A pause, followed by a shushing, shifting, tantalisingly erotic sound that seemed to reach through the speaker to stroke his crotch. ‘Why?’

Why?
Because he didn’t want her to be still in bed
because
he didn’t want to imagine her still warm and soft with sleep, firm flat tummy exposed beneath rumpled flannelette pyjamas. He stepped up his pace on the bike and said, ‘I took you for an early riser.’

‘Did you? Why?’

Hell if he knew. ‘So you’re not?’

‘Not what?’ Breathless pause. ‘In bed?’

‘No—an early riser.’ He blew out a harried breath. ‘Are you still in bed or not?’

‘No. Actually I’ve just stepped out of the shower.’

Naked
. Worse, much worse. She was naked, and the shifting sound was more like a rubbing sound now that he knew it had to be a towel. Against heat-pinkened flesh. He let out a long, low groan.

‘Are you okay?’ she said sharply. ‘What are you doing?’

‘You shouldn’t ask a man that question first thing in the
morning when you’re naked and rubbing yourself with a towel.’

He heard a slight catch of breath then, ‘Oh … Oh.’

‘I’m riding a bike, Chloe.’ And damn uncomfortable it was, too.

‘Where?’

‘Home gym. I’d invite you over for breakfast,’ he said, dismounting and heading to his en-suite, ‘but the traffic’s chaos.’

‘I’ve eaten already.’

So she was a step ahead of him. ‘Flannelette pyjamas,’ he murmured, toeing off his trainers along the way.

‘What?’

‘Never mind.’ He turned his attention to more immediate matters as he stripped down and flung his jocks in the laundry basket. ‘We need to shop this morning. I’ll drop by around twelve. Be packed, we won’t be going home after.’

‘I thought we were going shopping in Dubai?’

‘There’s something we need to get before we leave.’

‘Twelve’s okay … but—’

‘I’ll see you then,’ he told her before she could quiz him further, and disconnected.

He padded back to his bedroom for a change of clothes. He had two more calls to make. ‘Hey,’ he replied when Sadiq answered. ‘Hope I’m not catching you at an inconvenient time?’

‘On my way out but I was going to call you later this morning anyway since I hadn’t heard from you. What’s happening with Dubai?’

‘Yeah. I’ve talked with Qasim again. The meeting’s all set and I’ll be flying out later this evening.’

‘Sounds promising.’

Jordan pulled a caramel toffee-coloured jumper from a drawer. ‘I’m taking Chloe with me.’

‘Chloe.’ Jordan could almost hear Sadiq’s ears prick up.

‘I took your advice.’

‘So you’re stealing her away from Dana?’ Sadiq chuckled. ‘Dana won’t be pleased—Chloe’s her new favourite worker.’

‘I’ll write dear Dana a cheque to cover a fill-in temp’s wages for a couple of weeks—she’ll be pleased enough.’

‘How did you manage it?’ Sadiq queried. ‘Chloe didn’t look too happy to see you at Sunday brunch. Did you work the Blackstone charm again?’

Jordan rifled through his sock drawer for his favourites, tossing a couple of orphans on the floor in the process. ‘I simply made her an offer she couldn’t refuse.’

‘And …’

‘Let’s just say we have an arrangement.’

‘Sounds … cosy.’

‘A business arrangement. And not for public knowledge.’ Not even Sadiq need know the details, except Jordan had the feeling the man had it figured out already. ‘Not a word to anyone, my trusted friend,’ he cautioned as he headed for the shower. ‘I want the press kept well out of it.’ He paused. ‘And if Qasim and you talk at any stage and I happen to come up in conversation … just play along with whatever he says, okay?’

‘Aah.’

Perceptive man, Sadiq. ‘Thanks. Gotta go.’

‘Good luck.’

Chloe was out on the veranda with her travel-battered bag by eleven forty-five. She’d left a note for her absent housemates on the kitchen table along with the next rent payment in cash. With her new-look bank balance that she was still getting used to, it had been easy peasy.

She’d also deposited a five-figure amount in her parents’ account and it had only made a small dent in the overall balance. The knowledge blew her away. And there was still the other half of the payment expected at the end.

An icy wind snuck in under the roof and around the veranda
posts, chilling her face, but she rubbed sweaty palms down her jeans. This trip was a whole new experience, like a scary fun park ride in a new dimension.

Dana had rung a couple of hours ago to wish her a successful trip. Chloe had detected a knowing smile in her boss’s voice when she’d told her to ‘take care and enjoy yourself’.

What had Jordan said to the woman? Or had Dana just assumed Chloe would be bowled over by his charm and ready to run off with him at the drop of a hat? She told herself as long as her job was still available when she came back, she didn’t care what Dana assumed.

She was checking her watch for the zillionth time when a luxury car pulled up. Jordan unfolded his long body from the front passenger seat and stepped out to open the rear door. Dark glasses shielded his eyes. His caramel V-neck jumper over an open brown shirt and well-worn jeans that clung to his butt like a denim glove elicited a soft sigh of feminine appreciation from Chloe as she walked down the short path to the gate.