by Reese Ryan
Sasha liked Jordan, but getting involved with her client would bring her professionalism into question. And for what? To end up as fodder for the gossip blogs? She’d simply be another reject on the pile of Jordan Jace’s discarded lovers.
No thanks. I deserve more than that.
That was the reason she’d turned down Jordan’s proposal of a meaningless fling. It’d been a good decision then, and it was a good decision now.
Don’t let your libido and your heart do the thinking. Stay strong.
Sasha was struck by those words. Don’t let...your heart do the thinking...
Her attraction to Jordan wasn’t just about desire and need. She genuinely felt something for him. More than she’d felt for any man in a very long time.
Warmth filled Sasha’s cheeks. She glanced around, suddenly self-conscious. As if every other person in the room was privy to the lustful thoughts about Jordan Jace playing out in her head in vivid, HD color and earthshaking surround sound.
Miranda’s gaze met hers and her friend furrowed her brow, her head cocked. As if questioning whether everything was all right. Sasha forced a smile, but Miranda seemed unconvinced. Fortunately, Vaughn drew Miranda back into the conversation before she could make her way over to Sasha.
Sasha released a quiet sigh.
She couldn’t talk about Jordan’s sculpture being vandalized, and she wasn’t prepared to discuss the unsettling feelings she had for him.
Sasha glanced over at Jordan. He held court with a small group of people, regaling them with a fanciful interpretation of one of his pieces. The kind of flourish that apparently irked his father and made him long for the good old days. A sense of nostalgia Jonathan Jace and his son shared. Though their ideas about exactly what it was that made the good old days so good varied considerably.
On the outside, Jordan was all ease and joviality. But a hint of darkness in his eyes belied his exceedingly vivacious mood.
Sasha studied Jordan. The man was ridiculously handsome. His lean, muscular form, highlighted by the athletic cut of his suit, would rival any ancient Greek sculpture.
Fingers aching to trace the muscles of his arms and chest, Sasha’s hands twitched at her side. She tried to stop imagining how incredible his body must look, underneath that suit.
She swallowed hard, gulped a fresh supply of air and tried to focus on what Vaughn was saying.
It was awful that Jordan’s sculpture had been damaged. But if Chris Marland hadn’t interrupted them, she would’ve made a horrible mistake.
“Miss Charles.” Eva Jace, suddenly by her side, placed a hand on her arm. “Can we talk for a moment?”
Sasha nearly jumped out of her skin. The woman was either a cat or an apparition, because Sasha could swear she hadn’t been there a few seconds before.
And what more did Eva want to know?
The woman had already plied her with enough questions to make Sasha wonder if Jordan’s mother intended to write her unauthorized biography.
“Of course, Mrs. Jace.” She followed the woman to a quieter corner of the gallery.
“Jonathan and I are leaving shortly, but I need to ask a favor of you.” The older woman lowered her voice and glanced around the room. “I’m worried about Jordan. Something’s happened. I don’t know what it is, but I noticed a change in his demeanor.”
Sasha’s spine stiffened. The members of the club had obviously wanted to keep what happened quiet. Particularly, while the event was going on.
“Really?” Not a lie, but not an admission, either.
“Come now, dear.” Eva gave her a knowing smile. “I couldn’t help noticing that you’ve kept a watchful eye on him all evening.”
Sasha’s mouth fell open. “I... I was just—”
The woman was nice enough to ignore her stammering.
“I know this isn’t part of your job description, Miss Charles, but could you see to it that Jordan gets home safely this evening? I always worry about what he might do when he’s like this.”
“Oh, I don’t know if I can—”
“The way Jordan talks about you...it’s obvious he likes you very much. More importantly, he seems to trust you. More than he trusts or listens to his father or me these days.” Her gaze drifted down to her hands for a moment, before meeting Sasha’s gaze again. The corners of her eyes were damp. “I realize this is an inconvenience, so I’m willing to pay any extra fees.”
The woman reached in her clutch and pulled out her checkbook.
“That won’t be necessary.” Sasha held up a hand, glancing over at Jordan momentarily. There was that look again. Like dark clouds gathering overhead. She turned back to Eva. “I’ll make sure he’s okay. I promise.”
Eva clasped Sasha’s arm. “Thank you.”
Sasha sighed, rocking back on her heels.
Clients often made special requests. All things considered, a wealthy woman asking her to see to it that her grown son made it home without doing something stupid didn’t even make the list of the top ten odd client requests.
But she hadn’t felt anything for any of those clients. So this request felt very different.
Sasha avoided Miranda’s inquisitive gaze and did her best to follow along in the conversation. After all, she was standing with a group of ultrawealthy, potential clients.
“There you are.” Jordan approached her, excusing himself to Vaughn and Miranda before whisking her away to a quieter space. “I’m sorry we haven’t had more time to chat this evening, but I know how important it is to you to avoid the perception that we’re dating.”
Jordan’s eyes danced and one edge of his mouth curled in a smirk when he said the words. He studied her, awaiting her reaction.
“How thoughtful of you.” Sasha kept her expression even. “Maybe I can return the favor. It’s been a rough night for you, and you’ve had quite a bit to drink, so I’d like to take you home. To your home, of course.” Her cheeks burned.
One brow lifted in amusement. “You’re offering to escort me home personally, instead of calling for a car service?”
Sasha fought back the urge to tell Jordan that this wasn’t her idea at all. That she was doing this at his mother’s request. Only, there was a good chance Jordan would be upset by his mother’s interference. After all, he’d often complained about his parents’ need to control him.
He’d comply more easily if he believed it was her idea.
“Because it’s the only way I can guarantee that my client goes straight home tonight, rather than doing something I’ll be forced to clean up later.”
“You sound like my mother.”
Sasha pressed her lips into a straight line. “I sound like the woman charged with making sure the only press you get is good press. And, hopefully, I sound like a friend who’s concerned.”
“Why should you be concerned?” The corners of his mouth tugged down in a frown.
“You were really upset about your sculpture being damaged.” She lowered her voice and glanced around, to ensure no one else was close enough to overhear them.
“I’m bloody furious. Someone entered my studio and vandalized my work. Haven’t I a right to be upset?”
“Of course.” She placed a gentle hand on his arm, her gaze meeting his. “But you don’t just seem angry. You seem really...sad.”
Jordan slipped his arm from her grip under the guise of shoving his hand in his pocket. He scanned the gallery, his eyes no longer meeting hers.
“If you insist, you may take me home. Perhaps you’ll consider allowing me to repay your kindness with a nightcap.”
“You’ve had quite a lot to drink already.” Sasha frowned.
“Careful.” He leaned in closer. “Now you’re really beginning to sound like my mother.”
“We’ll see.” Sasha huffed. Jordan seemed to need the company. “Find me when you’re
ready.”
Sasha walked away, her heart beating wildly and her pulsing racing. She should be dreading the task of babysitting Jordan Jace.
Instead, she was eager to spend time alone with him.
* * *
The ride to Jordan’s house in Coronado was quiet. The police weren’t happy they’d waited to call, rather than calling as soon as they learned of the break-in. While most of the possible suspects were still on the premises.
There was practically steam coming out of Jordan’s ears, and she’d never seen his jaw so tense and his face so stern.
“Jordan, I realize the officer didn’t exactly have a warm-and-fuzzy demeanor, but he was only doing his job.”
“Is that what you call doing his job?” Jordan’s British accent had thickened. “Because it seems to me that part of his job is proper deportment with the citizens he’s agreed to protect and serve. Instead, he behaved as if we’d disturbed him in the middle of a rather lovely bubble bath.”
Sasha snorted with laughter at the image that popped into her head. The rotund, middle-age officer whose hairline had practically receded to the back of his neck. In a tub full of bubbles wearing a pink shower cap.
“You think that’s funny?”
That only made her laugh more. She held up a hand. “I’m not laughing at you. Or the situation. It’s serious. Of course. It’s just...when you said the thing about him being in a bubble bath, a hilarious visual pinged in my head. The only thing that was missing was the yellow rubber ducky.”
Now Jordan smiled slightly, too. He shook his head. “That isn’t a very pretty picture at all, is it?”
They both laughed and the tension in Jordan’s shoulders seemed to ease slightly.
“But seriously,” he said, once he’d composed himself again. “The man was a knobhead. I didn’t appreciate his not-so-subtle implication that I might have done this myself as part of some absurd insurance scam. Evidently, he doesn’t understand that what makes that ragtag pile of scrap metal valuable is my ability to craft it into something more. How on earth would destroying it in process achieve that?”
“I know he came off a bit gruff, but he had to ask those questions.”
“You’re defending him?”
“Not exactly.” She sighed, taking a turn down his street. “But my grandfather was a beat cop most of his career. He was an honorable man who did his job, despite the nonsense he had to deal with in and out of the department. And when he retired, he started the security firm my father and brothers run now. So I try not to arrive at snap judgments.”
“I didn’t mean to imply that all officers are bad at their jobs,” he said quickly. “But I wish that officer had your same policy of not jumping to conclusions. It wasn’t only me he was accusing.”
“I know.” She nodded. “But his theory about you all suspecting that the culprit is a member of the club...he was right about that, wasn’t he?”
Jordan didn’t answer. He didn’t need to. Of course, they would be reluctant to have that ugly fact revealed to the public. Particularly when their club was celebrating being named Chapter of the Year.
“Turn up this drive here.”
“It’s beautiful, Jordan.” Sasha pulled into the narrow drive of the beautiful, contemporary glass-and-stucco home situated among palm trees. “And it fits you. It’s like a piece of art.”
“I’m glad you approve.” A wide smile spread across Jordan’s face. In any other instance, she’d have considered those words sarcastic. But his eyes and his tone were sincere. “I’d love to give you the grand tour. What do you say?”
Sasha stared longingly at the house. The architecture of the three-level home was breathtaking.
“The house is incredible, and I’d love to see it, but it’s late. Perhaps another day?”
There was zero conviction in her tone. Even she recognized that. She desperately wanted a tour of Jordan’s gorgeous home, and wasn’t ready to say good-night.
“You said I seemed more than just angry about the sculpture that was damaged. You were right. The sculpture I was working on...it means more to me than anything I’ve ever done.”
“Why?” She tried to read his eyes in the darkness between them.
“Come up for coffee and I’ll explain.” There was no levity or flirtatiousness in his voice. Just the voice of a man who needed to talk to a friend.
Sasha took a deep breath and nodded, ignoring all the signs that warned her not to step out of that car.
She barreled through every one of them and followed Jordan up the front steps of his impressive home. It wasn’t a sprawling estate like the home her friend Miranda shared with her new husband, Vaughn. But what the home lacked in size, it more than made up for in style. The waterfront property offered stunning views of the San Diego skyline across the San Diego Bay.
Jordan gave her a tour of the space with its clean, contemporary design. Floor-to-ceiling windows, two terraces and a patio kept the place open and airy. Sasha could only imagine how bright the space must be when the sun was out.
Much of the furniture was composed of stainless steel and glass which reflected the light. Abstract paintings and sculptures were featured throughout, complementing the artistic feel of the architecture.
“Your house is stunning, Jordan. Thank you for allowing me to see it.” Sasha stood in the kitchen, complete with gleaming, professional grade, stainless steel appliances.
“Thank you.” He handed her a fragrant cup of caramel vanilla coffee topped off with the creamer she’d requested. “I do love the house, but I purchased it for the view.” He held up his coffee cup. “It’s warm enough tonight. Why don’t we have our coffee on the terrace so we can enjoy it?”
Sasha inhaled the aromatic coffee, then took a sip. A cup of coffee that delicious deserved to be savored over a beautiful view. “Lead the way.”
* * *
Jordan and Sasha stepped out onto the second-floor terrace outside his living room.
The view overlooked the San Diego Bay. The San Diego skyline glittered like diamonds in the distance.
“The view was impressive from inside the house, but seeing it from out here...” Sasha put down her coffee and stood at the Plexiglas railing. “It honestly takes your breath away.”
Jordan leaned against the wall, sipping his coffee as he studied Sasha in the moonlight.
He could easily say the same about her.
She was gorgeous in a sleeveless, plum-colored dress that hugged her vivacious curves like its very reason for being was to highlight Sasha Charles’s God-given assets. Mile-high stilettos in an unexpected hue added a pop of color against the dark dress and her brown skin. And they made Sasha’s lean legs appear to go on forever. Drawing his eye to the hem of her skirt, which fell just above her knee.
“It was this view that sealed the deal. I’d seen the house before, and I liked it well enough. But not enough to move on it. I kept thinking I might find something that suited me a bit better.” Jordan stood beside her, taking in the lovely view of San Diego. “Then one night, my agent—a lovely woman who’d grown tired of showing me every house from here to La Jolla—insisted I meet her here one evening.”
“You probably thought she was coming on to you.” Sasha could barely hold back a grin.
“I did,” he admitted, chuckling. “But that isn’t the point. The point is she showed me this view, and immediately I knew, without equivocation, that this was the one. That I’d be happy here for many years to come. We signed the contract right here on this terrace.”
“That’s a great story.” Sasha’s eyes twinkled. “And I can’t disagree with your choice.” She sat at the table and crossed her legs, still staring out at the city skyline. “Do you use the terrace much?”
“I’m not here as often as I’d like, but when I’m home I spend a good deal of my time on this balcony or the on
e upstairs, off my bedroom.”
Sasha looked away, as if his mention of the bedroom made her uncomfortable.
He couldn’t deny that he now had visions in his head of exactly what he wished they were doing now. But he’d promised himself when he invited her in that he’d be well behaved. That he wouldn’t make a play for her. Despite their near-kiss at the gallery.
“The terraces are my favorite place to take meals and exercise in the morning. Sometimes I come out here to sketch an idea for a sculpture or to just sit and think.” He joined her at the table. “In fact, it was here one morning over coffee that I got the idea for the sculpture I’m currently working on. The one vandalized this evening.”
“Tell me about the sculpture.” Sasha raised her gaze to his again, her head tilted.
“It’s a tribute to someone I loved very much and lost far too soon.” He dropped his gaze to his hands, pressed to the table. “My twin sister.”
“I didn’t know you were a twin. I’m so sorry about the loss of your sister, Jordan. How long ago did you lose her?”
“Nearly twenty years ago.” He stared into the distance, his lungs suddenly burning. “And in nearly two decades, talking about her hasn’t gotten any easier. Most likely because my family behaves as if Jeanette never existed. It’s hard to get over what you barely even acknowledge.”
“I can only imagine how painful it must be for all of you.”
“I certainly couldn’t tell by any of them.” He stood, agitated, and gripped the railing, his back to Sasha. “Seems my entire family is content to pretend she never was.” Jordan turned to face her. “But I can’t forget. More importantly, I don’t want her life to be forgotten.”
“Tell me about your sister.” She stood beside him at the railing, both of them staring across the bay, as if it was an act of solidarity. “What was she like?”
“She was sweet with a bubbly personality.” He smiled painfully, a vision of his sister’s smile filled his head. “But she could be determined. To the point of being stubborn.” He bit back the emotion that clogged his throat as he met her gaze. “In some ways, you remind me of her. Of what she might’ve grown up to be.”