by Leigh Morgan
"It's almost as beautiful as the woman wearing it, although I was so struck by her beauty it took a while to notice." Jordon said, his own voice thick with emotion as he walked into the room.
"That, gentlemen, is our cue to leave." Thorson cleared the board of stones, placing the white and black ones in their respective pots. Reed didn't appear to care that he'd cleared the board on a game she was destined to win.
All three men said their goodnights to Reed, each kissing her cheek. Shay loitering a little too long holding her hands.
"Are you all right?" Shay asked.
Jordon stiffened as Reed smiled softly into Shay's eyes and nodded. It was a friendly smile, not one that promised more, and Shay's body language said he knew it and accepted it. If she hadn't hugged him too, Jordon's hands probably wouldn't have fisted at his sides to the point of cramping. It had been days since Reed smiled at him like she was smiling at Shay. Jordon wanted to be her friend too. Friend, lover, husband, sparring partner. He wanted it all. He didn't want to share her, although he begrudgingly would, he'd even be gracious about it, so long as she always loved him best and told him so at least once a day. Maybe twice a day. Morning, and right before he sank into her at night. That would be good.
Jordon's fists eased as Shay pulled away. Shay glanced at Jordon as he left the room, inclining his head in a purely male gesture that conveyed more than words could have. She's yours now, I'm backing off, but if you fuck it up I'll be all over her again like white on rice and to hell with you and yours.
Jordon inclined his head in response, like a knight exiting the battlefield after combating a worthy and respected opponent. Message acknowledged and accepted. Since I will not fuck up, your loyal service will not be required by the lady, and if you try, absent said fuck up, I'll kill you.
Jordon heard the soft click of the door as Shay left the room and he sent the universe a fervent prayer:
Please, God, don't let me screw this up. Make her love me even though I don't deserve it. Don't let her leave me. Please.
...
Reed watched as Shay and Jordon exchanged tense glances. Only after Shay shut the door did Jordon turn to her. His eyes burned with an emotion she couldn't name, but made her insides turn to warm honey on a hot summer day.
He was the only man she'd met who could decimate her with a look.
She wanted to eat him alive.
She wanted to slap him silly for making her feel this way after being such a shit.
Instead, she just stood there, waiting for him to say or do something, anything, that would determine her next move. Flight, fright or fight. She'd rather tear off his tuxedo and throw him naked to the floor, ride him until they both burst, first, but that depended entirely on him.
Jordon took at step closer. Then another, until she could feel his breath on her bare shoulder as he bent to kiss her nape. She tilted her head away to give his lips better access, but he didn't touch her, only his softly spoken words in her ear did as he slowly pulled the pins from her hair, discarding them haphazardly on the floor.
"This dress is almost the same color as your skin. Did you choose it on purpose?" He asked. Not waiting for an answer he continued, "I've been imagining you naked all evening, as I'm sure every man here tonight was doing. The only thing marring that picture is this fierce knot you've twisted your wildly extravagant hair into. I like you free and wild, Reed. My own woodland elf dancing naked through my forest."
He finished with the last of the pins and ran his strong fingers through her hair, massaging her stinging scalp with his finger tips as he gently worked his way through the hair spray and the tangles the severe style left behind.
"Dance naked for me, Elf. I'll make it worth your while."
Those few words worked better than a bucket of ice in the face could have to cool her mood.
"I'll dance for you naked or dressed in tiny gold sequins and pins in my hair."
She took a step away from him and the sweet lethargy he roused so easily within her was gone by the time her second foot made the journey. She looked into his still blazing whisky and moss eyes.
"But not because you'll make it worth my while, or because there's something in it for me other than the obvious, but because I want to pull you into me and never let go. Because I love you, even though you've turned into a cold hearted calculating idiot since we passed through those iron gates. I'll dance for you because maybe it'll bring back the sharp-witted, kind-hearted man I married." Reed took another step back when he reached for her. She wasn't done yet.
"The only thing I want as much as that, at the moment, is to beat you to a bloody pulp and give all your money to charity. You choose. Right now I could go either way."
CHAPTER FORTY-NINE
Jordon followed her as she moved away, matching her step for step, only his steps covered more carpet. He was within touching distance in two steps. He could feel the heat from her body in three. She wasn't backing away any more. So far, so good.
"You can have my money. Give it to whomever you want. I'll make more."
Jordon reached out and touched the side of her face. Her eyes narrowed, but she leaned into him. She was different tonight. More vulnerable, almost wounded. Another man might have found that attractive. It made him sick. He wanted his fighting elf back, spitting nails at him every time he screwed up.
"You're welcome to try your hand at kicking my tail, but we should get you out of that dress first. Even with that artful slit running to your thigh, you can't maneuver well enough to draw blood."
Reed moved around him and was halfway to the door before her caught her arm. So much for his maneuverability theory. He'd gotten that about as right as he'd gotten everything else since he brought her here. Things were so much simpler, clearer at Potters Woods. Too bad the man he was there wasn't who he was here.
His grip was painful, it had to be, with the amount of force he was using to hold her there. If it hurt she didn't show it. Her usually expressive face didn't show anything at all. Not pain. Not anger. Not the passion of moments before. Nothing. She was shutting down on him. Shutting him out of her life, her heart. He'd learned enough about her to know that if she shut that door completely, he'd never open it up again, not even with C-4.
"Don't leave." he said, his heart in his throat, blood rushing through his ears like the Titanic taking in water.
"Why should I stay?"
"Because I'm still the man you married, under this monkey-suit. Because you own my heart and I can't live without it...without you. Because without you life doesn't make sense anymore. Because I love you now, and I'll love you long after I'm dead and buried."
Jordon suddenly felt cold. She wasn't pulling at his arm anymore. She didn't even blink, she simply looked at his hand where it manacled her wrist. He let go of her. She turned away and walked slowly to the door. He didn't speak again until her hand was on the knob.
"You love me too, Reed. I know you're angry, and I know I've cared more about appearances than making you comfortable here. I know I've been an ass. Let's pack up. We can leave right now, if that's what you want."
It was a calculated risk. One he didn't really want to take, but part of him couldn't let her go, a part of him that had nothing to do with Takahara or deal making or running B.H. He ignored the reasons and focused on the objective. That approach had propelled him upward for over a decade, no sense abandoning it now. Not with so much at stake.
Reed let go of the doorknob and turned.
"Do you mean it?"
Did he?
"Yes."
...
What was she supposed to say now? Reed knew how much this weekend meant to Jordon. He hadn't been up front with her about just how big a deal this thing with Mr. Takahara was for his professional future, but William filled in some of the pieces. Reed got the feeling she was still missing the big pieces, and just why it was so important to him, but she didn't want to be the reason Jordon flushed it all away. He'd only resent her for it, and
she knew enough about resentment to know the irreparable damage it could cause if left to fester.
Guilt, and the enormity of what she would cost him and herself if she made him chose, washed through Reed like whisky on an empty stomach, burning hot and threatening to come back up even hotter.
"I don't want you to leave." She said, holding out her hand to him. "I don't want to leave. I'll always support you and your ideas when you're right. William tells me this deal with Mr. Takahara has been over a year in the making, and that you've devoted all your efforts to it. He says you're the best at what you do, and sometimes being the best takes all you have to give."
Jordon's expression turned from relieved to sardonic. His eyes narrowed and one corner of his mouth cocked up in what she'd come to realize was anything but a smile.
"He said all that, did he?"
"Yes. He made it quite clear how important this deal is to you, and that I could either help you or I could hurt you. I don't want to hurt you or your chances at this deal. It's obviously important or we wouldn't be here." Reed looked down, sucked back the bile and opened her heart.
"I'm stubborn, I lose my temper easily, and I rarely apologize. I'm even unforgiving and sometimes downright rude. And tonight, I set you up to have to make a choice I have no intention of asking you to make." Reed laughed at herself and the sound hurt her ears.
"I was jealous of some stupid deal. I actually thought it meant more to you than I do. I'm sorry. Forgive me."
She was engulfed in Jordon's arms before she finished her sentence. Reed didn't realize she was crying until Jordon wiped away her tears. Looking into his deep golden-green specked eyes, seeing the sheer beauty of the man inside and out, Reed wondered how she could ever have thought of walking away. She loved him. It was that simple and that complex. And, she never wanted to let him go.
"Let's go to bed." He said.
Reed didn't trust herself to speak without crying like a baby. She curled her head into his strong neck and simply nodded.
CHAPTER FIFTY
FEAR
Everyone can see how they have polished the mirror
of the self, which is done with the longings
we're given.
Not everyone wants to be king!
There are different roles and many choices
within each.
Troubles come. One person packs up
and another leaves. Another stays and deepens in a love
for being human.
In battle, one runs fearing
for his life. Another, just as scared, turns
and fights more fiercely.
Rumi, 12th Century
Jordon carried Reed back to the yellow bedroom she loved, the first time she saw it, her heart was fluttering in her chest, her breathing shallow. It was always like this when fear took her. She needed to concentrate and breathe deeply, willing her heart to slow, to beat fully, allowing blood to flow strongly and freely to her brain and throughout her body.
She didn't always think clearly around Jordon.
Sometimes she didn't think at all, she only felt, and that scared her even more than the fact that he held her heart. She didn't stop herself from turning and tasting his skin, licking the salt, savoring this part of him he shared so freely with her. It was one part of who they were together that she never doubted. Unfortunately for her, she'd never been able to compartmentalize sex the way Finn was able to do. For her, when she shared her body she shared a piece of her soul and a good chunk of her heart.
With Jordon, she hadn't been so reserved. She'd opened up and gave him everything she had, only now was she realizing she had hidden reservoirs of raw emotion she'd inadvertently allowed him access to.
She'd given him the knife to slice her heart from her chest.
A sudden image of Jordon wearing a hockey mask and brandishing a machete flashed through her blood starved brain. Reed didn't know whether to laugh or cry or scream for help, so she decided to throw herself into the firestorm of passion she felt for him instead.
"I love the way you taste." Reed licked behind Jordon's ear as she allowed her hand to explore his chest through his soft, yet perfectly pleated, shirt. Everything about Jordon radiated strength, beauty, and the kind of male self-confidence that appealed to her inner cave-woman, without the empty arrogance some men pass off as masculinity.
Jordon captured her hand, stilling her exploration. "I have something important I need to talk to you about. Something I want to give you."
He flashed her the slow grin that showed the slashes at the side of his mouth. She noticed he didn't share that particular smile with anyone else. That, and the twinkle in his moss studded liquid gold eyes, strummed through her like warm Drambuie. Suddenly she wasn't scared anymore.
Jordon stopped at the door to look at her. "What did I say to merit that smile?" He asked, opening the door. He walked in, set her down on her feet next their bed. "You look...hungry."
Reed threw her arms as far around his neck as she was able to, smiling up at him, letting herself enjoy this part of being with him.
"I am. And you can feed me chocolate, pretzels, and Drambuie if you can scare some up." She turned and presented him with her back. "After you help me get out of this dress. After you lay me down and make love to me. After you tell me whatever it is you want to tell me, and give me whatever it is you need to give me."
She felt the stillness behind her. Uncertainty hung in the air, palpable. His hesitancy cooled her heat, allowing fear to creep slowly down her spine again. And then, she heard the slow hiss of her zipper as the air-conditioned air hit the small of her back, cooling and heating her insides at the same time.
"Who am I to disappoint a lady? Especially when she's the only lady in my universe."
...
Where did those words come from?
Jordon resisted the urge to look behind him when he knew damned well the room was empty, except for Reed, who wasn't wearing a bra under the skintight, sleeveless, sequined top of her dress.
How did those ridiculous words get past his internal filter? There were lots of women in his universe. His mother, Irma, who managed to grouch her way under his skin, Finn, and even the evil Giselle. Jordon had plenty of women in his universe.
Just because he didn't want to sink inside any of them, much less marry any of them, didn't mean they didn't exist. Jeeze. What was happening to him anyway? He used to have a sense of decorum. He used to sound like an adult, not an idiot.
The look on his elf's face, as she turned to him and stepped out of her dress, stopped his self-flagellation mid stroke of a lash. He hadn't seen that particular pair of panties before. They framed, more than they covered, with lace and damp peach colored silk.
His subconscious seemed to know more about women than he did, at least about this woman, because everything in her expression, and the way she held herself proud and inviting before him, screamed not only her acceptance, but the pleasure she took from moments like these that they shared. They'd gotten easier and more intense since the first time she came to him by the pond, under the willow tree.
If he closed his eyes, Jordon could still see her coming to him on her knees, could still taste her on his tongue.
He picked her up again and lowered her gently to the bed where she watched him disrobe, the small box in his pocket momentarily forgotten. He stood before her naked, not just nude, willing her to see all of him.
"Do you love me?" He asked.
"You know I do."
He did, but that didn't stop him from feeling relieved by her quick response.
"Do you trust me?"
She stopped rubbing her feet against the satin bed cover and sat up at his question. Her shoulders tensed and her body appeared to turn in on itself.
"What do you mean?" She asked hesitantly.
"Don't play the lawyer game with me. Not now, Elf. No diversion by redirection or obfuscation. I need an answer." He swallowed past the thickness in his throat and felt his e
rection begin to wither. He asked again.
"Do you trust me?"
Again her hesitation stung. She wasn't rejecting his love, or his body, she was simply puzzled and confused by his question. She moved toward him but didn't stand. Reed couldn't reach him from the bed, and Jordon didn't come any closer. He didn't back away either. He just stood there, open, with the fear of a warrior who'd fight a battle already lost, sacrificing himself piece by torn piece, refusing to abandon the battlefield.
"I'm not sure what you want from me." She said.
Jordon forced the bile back down his throat and took a deep breath, tightly controlling his voice to keep it neutral and calm when all he wanted to do was scream and shake her. That probably wasn't the best way to gain her trust.
"It's a simple question, Reed. Answer it."
Reed stood, but she didn't reach for him again.
"I trust you with my life. With my son's life. With Potters Woods." She looked down and he waited for the big 'but'. The air was ominously heavy with it. "I'm not sure I should trust you with my heart."
There were unshed tears in her brilliant blue-gray eyes when she met his gaze full on. "I'm not sure I could take it if you broke what's left of it."
Something in her tone eased the death grip some invisible hand from hell had on his heart, and his hands uncurled at his sides.
"For a smart lady, you sure have trouble getting the question right. I didn't ask what you should do or what you think you can or cannot take. I asked if you trust me, I'm asking you to trust me. Can you, will you, trust me? Loving me isn't enough anymore, not if we're going to make it through the rest of this weekend, the rest of our lives, together. If we're going to do that, I need you to trust me. No questions. No guarantees."