by Reese Ryan
She enjoyed the lavish gift of daily fresh flowers, but felt guilty that he was spending so much on her. Jordan insisted that if they weren’t restricted to dining in each evening, he’d spend much more on a night out.
Sasha returned to the kitchen, following the savory scent.
Jordan had wanted to go out to dinner every night, rather than either of them cooking at the end of a long workday. But Sasha didn’t think it wise for them to be seen out eating together every night.
His compromise had been to have his personal chef come in each afternoon and make them a romantic meal.
One of the many ways he’d been spoiling her.
“Mmm. Dinner smells divine. What’s on the menu tonight?”
“Leek-and-potato galettes and a pear salad. You’re going to love them.” Jordan joined her in the kitchen, wrapping his arms around her and nuzzling her neck. He kissed her again, sending a jolt of electricity down her spine, igniting sparks in every erogenous zone in her body. Her knees trembled, her nipples beaded and there was a steady pulse between her thighs.
Sasha pushed him away, laughing. “After dinner, remember?”
“A promise is a promise,” he conceded with a groan.
He opened a bottle of the German Riesling she’d fallen in love with during their time together on the yacht. He poured her a glass and one for himself, taking the bottle with them to the table.
Sasha forced a smile as she sipped her wine, his words striking her with sadness.
A promise is a promise.
She couldn’t remember being happier with anyone than she’d been in the moments she’d spent with Jordan Jace, from the very night they met. Yet, he’d been clear from the beginning that he wasn’t interested in a long-term relationship. He’d given no indication that he’d changed his mind.
So how long would it be before Jordan kept his promise and walked away, leaving her with a broken heart?
* * *
After their delicious meal, she rinsed their dishes and loaded them into the dishwasher. Then she wrapped up the leftovers for their lunches the next day. It was the only way she could ensure that Jordan would take the time to eat.
The sculpture he was working on in memory of his sister was nearly complete. But he and Marcus were working on several smaller sculptures simultaneously. Many of them, Jordan had said, were inspired by Sasha.
He’d teasingly called her his muse. She was flattered, but how many muses had gone before her? And when her muse pixie dust wore off, would Jordan be ready to move on?
A knot twisted in her gut whenever she thought of this ending. Jordan was no closer to committing to a relationship, yet each day she grew fonder of him.
In the quiet moments when she contemplated where their relationship was going, the thought of it ending made her ill.
Yet, it was inevitable.
Jordan Jace didn’t do relationships.
Eventually he would walk away, just as he had with every other woman with whom he’d been connected.
It was an eventuality she needed to prepare herself for. Right now, they were working together closely on revamping and strengthening his brand. But what happened once her work with him was done?
Sasha frowned, chewing on her lower lip.
“Darling, what’s wrong?” Jordan approached her.
“Nothing.” She quickly forced a smile. “How could there be? I just had an amazing meal with the most amazing man. What more could I want?”
“I’m glad you asked.” A wide grin animated Jordan’s handsome face. He reached for her hand and led her to the bedroom. But he bypassed the bed and took her to the bathroom.
“Oh my goodness.” Sasha covered her open mouth, stunned. The bathroom smelled of fragrant roses and the large spa tub was filled with milky water and rose petals. A chilled bottle of champagne, a dish of strawberries, candles and soft music completed the scene. “You made me a rose milk bath? This is incredible. Thank you.” She hugged and kissed him.
“I know it isn’t the same as going to a spa, but I hope you enjoy it.” He smiled sheepishly. “I actually made this with my own hands.” He held them up. “Let me know what you think.”
“There is one important ingredient missing.” She leaned over and peered into the milky water.
“What did I forget?” He frowned.
Sasha put her arms around his waist and stared up into his handsome face. “You.”
He kissed her. Took his time undressing her. Then he helped her into the tub where he joined her. They sipped champagne and listened to soft, romantic R & B from some of her favorite artists he’d compiled on a playlist.
“You realize you just made me the modern equivalent of a mix tape.” She leaned back against his chest, enjoying the warm, soothing, fragrant water. “You don’t make a girl a mix tape unless you’re serious.”
Jordan chuckled, the sound vibrating against her back. He kissed her neck. “Yeah, I guess I did. It’s the least I can do. You inspire me, Sasha. I’ve never been with anyone quite like you.”
A great compliment, but he hadn’t been inspired to commit to their relationship. And she’d happily give up the fresh flowers, chef-made meals, expensive champagne and rose milk bubble baths in exchange for the thing she wanted the most. For Jordan to say the words she wanted to hear.
That he felt as deeply for her as she felt for him.
She was falling in love with Jordan Jace, with no expectations that he might one day feel the same.
After their bath, Jordan took her to his bedroom. The entire room glowed with warm candlelight. The glittering San Diego skyline in the distance only made the scene more romantic.
Jordan took his time worshipping her body with a trail of delicate kisses that left her skin tingling in their wake. And his exquisite tongue ravished her most intimate parts, leaving her nipples throbbing and the most delicious ache between her slick thighs.
When they’d made love it was fiery and passionate. Yet, there was a tenderness and intimacy that felt new for them. Something deeper.
Something that felt a lot like love.
Chapter 12
Jordan awakened early on a Saturday morning to work in his home studio. He sat at the old drafting table his grandfather had given him when he first discovered Jordan showed real promise as an artist.
He’d held on to the desk all these years. It was his way of holding on to his grandfather who—like his twin sister—had always believed in and encouraged him.
Jordan stared at a series of sketches he’d drawn of Sasha sleeping. When he awoke before she did, he often caught himself watching her sleep. Wondering what she was thinking.
The kind of thing lovesick fools did. Not that he was in love. But he did really like Sasha. Enough that he’d made a habit of waking up to her gorgeous face every morning.
It was unlike him. Gossip reporters often made unflattering exaggerations about how quickly he shed romantic interests. However, he couldn’t deny that there was a kernel of truth to those articles.
Long-term relationships weren’t his thing.
It was usually a stretch to call them relationships at all. Flings would be more accurate. Not everyone approved of his lifestyle. Least of all his parents. Regardless, he’d been content with a revolving door of women to feed his creative muse.
But with Sasha, things were different. As an artist, he was inspired by her. But she wasn’t just his muse. She was a friend. A confidante. And he could say with great certainty that he was a better person since Sasha Charles had come into his life.
She was a remarkable woman. The moment she entered a room, she filled it with light and energy. And even on his darkest days, she instantly brightened his mood. Brought him out of the melancholy that sometimes settled over him. Made him feel worthy of her affection.
He dragged his fingers through his hair, disturbed by t
hat thought. To the world he seemed confident, maybe even cocky. He walked in a room as if he owned it. Yet, there was an ever-present darkness inside of him.
Guilt. Uncertainty. Pain. Survivor’s guilt.
They’d been part of his life since the day he’d lost his twin sister on that beach in Italy.
The clubs, parties and parade of women were meant to plug the hole that allowed that darkness to seep out. Instead, they’d simply been a mask for the pain he felt. But with Sasha, a little more of that cloud lifted. As if the pain of that tragic day, nearly twenty years ago, had started to heal.
Maybe that was why he felt more creative now, inspiration coming to him more easily. He had more project ideas than he could possibly hope to execute.
If he was the type of bloke who settled down, he’d be fortunate to do so with someone as incredible as Sasha Charles.
But variety was the spice of life. For Jordan, nothing stayed the same for long. His cars, his home, the way he wore his hair. The women on his arm. Change gave him a new perspective. Without that shift, life would be stale and repetitive.
As much as he cared for and wanted Sasha, he knew himself. And people didn’t change. Not at their core. So as impossible as it seemed, he knew that one day things would change between them. What they shared would no longer be enough.
There was a gentle tap at the door. “Jordan, do you mind if I come in?”
Sasha’s sleep-filled eyes were partially closed. She wore the pink La Perla baby-doll nightgown he’d purchased for her. The brown peaks visible beneath the sheer silk georgette created tension in his shaft.
“Did I wake you, love? If I did, I’m sorry. I couldn’t sleep, so I got up to do some preliminary sketches. Here, take a look.”
“These are all of me?” She sat on his knee and surveyed the pencil sketches.
He pulled her back against his bare chest and kissed her neck. “I told you, darling, you inspire me. You inspire my work. You’ve prompted me to make new connections. I even seem to be getting along with my dad better these days, thanks to you.”
He slipped the nightgown off her shoulder and kissed it. “I’m even considering a new opportunity.”
“Oh?” She glanced over her shoulder at him.
“I’ve been invited to do a series of openings in Europe—France, Greece, Germany, Spain. I’d be gone for about six months.”
“Oh.” Same word, much different tone.
“That’s not even the best part.” He studied her face. “I want you to come with me, Sasha.”
She stood, turning to face him. “Jordan, I can’t leave my job for six months.”
“Make it a working trip. There’s no reason you can’t work on other client projects, like you did on the yacht.”
“That was for seven days. You’re talking about half a year. I can’t justify that.”
“Then take a leave of absence.” He pulled her onto his lap again. “C’mon, love, it’ll be fun knocking about Europe together.”
“You don’t get it, do you?” Sasha stood again. This time she walked around the table so she was facing him. “I can’t just take off with you like that. How do I know that you’ll still even be interested in me in six months or even two? That certainly isn’t your usual MO.” Her voice was strained and her expression was taut.
“I thought you’d be excited to go to Europe. You said you always wanted to go. That’s why the opportunity seemed perfect for us.”
The corner of Sasha’s eyes were suddenly damp. “That’s just it, Jordan. There really is no us, is there? I mean, don’t get me wrong, I care very much for you. And being with you is like this crazy, exciting fairy tale where I never know what’s going to happen next. It’s fun, and it’s exciting. But, Jordan, underneath it all, I’m still that organized planner. The girl who needs order in her life.”
She sat in a chair on the opposite side of the room, her arms wrapped around herself. “I’m not a college coed, Jordan. I’m ready to begin the next phase of my life. I thought I could be okay with going with the flow. Living your life of spontaneity. But I need to ask you a question, and I need you to promise me that you’re going to tell me the absolute truth.”
Jordan blew out a long breath. He joined her in the arrangement of seats and nodded, bracing himself for the train that he could already feel rumbling down the tracks.
“Shoot. Ask me anything you’d like. I promise to tell you the truth. No matter what.”
Sasha stared for a moment at her hands, folded in her lap before looking up at him. “Being with you has been amazing. I wouldn’t trade what we’ve shared for anything in the world. But I need to know where you see this going?”
Jordan heaved a sigh and sat back against the chair.
It was the beginning of the end.
* * *
Even as Sasha formed the words in her head, she wished she was the type of girl who didn’t need to ask.
She’d attributed her need for an answer to the phase of her life she now found herself in. But the truth was she’d never been the kind of person who’d enjoyed doing things by the seat of her pants.
“I don’t know, Sasha. This is all really new for me, too. I’m not typically the kind of bloke who scripts out his entire life on Saturday morning.”
A direct knock on her unfailing habit of doing just so, surrounded by her collection of markers, productivity stickers and washi tape.
He was amused. She wasn’t.
“This isn’t funny, Jordan. You’re asking me to drop everything and go to Europe with you for six months. I don’t think I’m being unreasonable here.” She stood and paced again.
“Maybe not. But you are being predictable and—”
“Boring?” She turned back to look at him, her arms folded.
“No.” He scrubbed a hand down his face. “But you are being quite rigid. I know you love your to-do lists and plotting everything out in your trusty planner, but in my experience, that doesn’t leave much room for spontaneity or the freedom to experiment. I’m an artist, Sasha. I have to have those things in order to be creative. Without them, I’m nothing.”
“You’re right. I know I can be a little crazy with my need for order and lists. And I love that you’ve shown me how great life can be when it isn’t all mapped out. That it’s okay to take a detour off the path. But, Jordan, for me, spontaneity is ice cream with sprinkles on top. I can’t live on a steady diet of ice cream. I need substance. And for me, that means knowing what comes next.”
“I’m sorry, Sasha. But I won’t make promises I may not be able to keep. I care about you too much to mislead you.” He sat back in his chair and rubbed his palms on his pajama pants. His eyes didn’t meet hers. “I honestly don’t know where this goes. And I won’t make empty promises.”
Her heart crumpled and her knees were suddenly too weak to bear her weight. She slid into the chair again.
She’d been willing to try things his way. And it’d been wonderful. But he was asking her to drop everything and put her life and career on hold for six months. All without giving her any kind of commitment or assurance.
For him, she wanted to be that girl. But she couldn’t. She needed to know how he felt about her.
“I’m trying really hard here, Sasha. We’re practically living together, and I assure you, that is not the norm for me. The flowers, the dinners, the gifts...they’re all tokens of my deep affection for you.”
“And I appreciate it.” Sasha squeezed his hand, finally raising her eyes to his. “But remember what I told you that first night...you don’t need to try so hard. Because while I enjoy being here in your beautiful home on the bay in Coronado, driving in fancy cars and wearing expensive lingerie... I don’t need any of it. And none of those things are the reason I want to be with you.”
“And why do you want to be with me, love?” He winced, his questio
n a pained whisper. As if he were afraid of hearing her response.
“Because you’re brilliant. And you’re funny. You always make me laugh, regardless of what’s going on in my world. You’re a smart-ass who challenges me. But you’re also incredibly thoughtful. You made me step out of my comfort zone and try new things. And you’ve allowed me to do the same for you.” She wiped tears from the corners of her eyes.
“That’s why I’m with you, Jordan. That’s why I want you. It’s why I think of you all the time. About what it would be like to build a future with you.”
His eyes widened, as if he’d seen the ghost of Monogamy Future and he didn’t like what he’d seen.
He stood and paced, his hands on his hips. “Why can’t things just be as they are, without labels or expectations? If we’re meant to have a future together, it’ll reveal itself along the way.”
Her eyes stung with tears. She stood, too. “This experiment...perhaps it was a mistake.” Tears streamed down her cheeks. She wiped angrily at them.
“Are you saying that—”
“Right now, I don’t know what I’m saying other than... I can’t go to Europe with you. And I need to go home to my own apartment. Clear my head a bit.”
Sasha turned and left without saying goodbye. She went to the bedroom, packed her bag and left the La Perla gown on the bed.
Deep down, she wanted Jordan to come after her. To beg her to stay. But he hadn’t. And that was everything she needed to know.
Jordan didn’t care enough to fight for her.
Chapter 13
Jordan had been frustrated and antsy since Sasha had left. He’d been terrified of saying the thing that would make her stay, but he was furious with himself for letting her go.
He wasn’t sure if he wanted a future with Sasha, but he knew that if she walked away from him, his life would never be the same. She’d only been gone an hour and already it felt as if things were falling apart.
Everything he’d tried to draw was utter garbage. As if his muse had taken the creativity she’d inspired in him, tucked it in her pocket and walked right out of the front door.