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The Girl of His Dreams (Bachelor #1)

Page 6

by Janet Nissenson


  She burst out laughing, even as she gave a little eye roll. “Kind of corny, and not very original, but definitely appropriate. I guess if I ever decide to move to San Francisco and need an OB/GYN, you’d have to refer me to another doctor, huh?”

  “Absolutely,” he confirmed. “A female one at that. Because the only man I’d ever want to give you a, uh, pelvic exam would be yours truly.”

  “Hmm.” Aubrey took a small sip of her wine. “Well, the chances of my moving to San Francisco are probably slim to none, so I doubt I’ll be needing that referral.”

  She returned her attention to her meal after that, and he smiled a little to notice the way she tended to mix her food together - combining a bite each of fish, rice, and vegetables before forking all of it up at once. She fascinated him, he realized, and not just because she was drop dead gorgeous and sexy as hell. No, the real reason she captivated him was because of her charm and wit, her easygoing, laidback attitude, and the way she seemed to take such pleasure from something as simple as a slice of bread. She was neither a silly, airheaded bimbo, nor a pretentious, attention seeking snob. She was simply Aubrey, and he couldn’t remember a single occasion in recent years when he’d enjoyed himself more than he was doing right now.

  She agreed easily to dessert when their waiter brought over menus, and asked for tea rather than coffee. She twirled a lock of long, blonde hair around her finger as she perused the menu thoughtfully, a harmless little movement that nonetheless caused Jordan to frown slightly - because he’d witnessed Tessa Gregson doing the exact same thing on more than one occasion.

  He’d managed not to think of the other woman for most of the evening, even though the resemblance between her and Aubrey was more evident than it had been at the beach this afternoon. And Aubrey was so different in mannerisms from Tessa, the differences in personality between the two women so marked, that Jordan had nearly convinced himself that there couldn’t possibly be any sort of connection between them.

  But now, when Aubrey rather coincidentally - or not - was wrapping a strand of hair around her fingers in concentration in much the same way he’d seen Tessa do, he had to wonder anew if the two women could possibly be related to each other in some fashion.

  “I think the Nutella cheesecake sounds like the most decadent dessert I could ever imagine,” stated Aubrey, setting her menu down on the table. “What are you going to have, Jordan?”

  ‘You, I hope,’ he thought to himself. Aloud, however, he merely replied, “The banana cream pie, I think.”

  He placed their orders with the waiter, then took her hand in his as though it was the most natural thing in the world to do.

  “So you never did answer my question earlier. How did a California girl wind up living in Hawaii?” he inquired. “It couldn’t be because you had a longing to live near the ocean, given that San Diego already fits that bill.”

  Aubrey finished brewing her tea and stirring in a single packet of sugar. “I never had any intention to live in Hawaii,” she acknowledged. “Or Alaska. Or Mexico, for that matter. And yet, since I finished college almost three years ago I’ve lived in all three places, and worked for the same tour operator.”

  “Is that the career path you’d decided on during college?”

  She snorted. “Hardly. I don’t think a degree in business administration would have been required to do the sorts of jobs I’ve had the last few years. Frankly, while I was going to college, I had absolutely zero idea of what I wanted to do with my life. I changed majors three times during my freshman and sophomore years, and finally settled on business because it seemed like the safe thing to do. The sensible thing, you know?”

  Jordan nodded. “I get it. And it’s certainly not a bad idea. Much more practical, for example, than a degree in anthropology or art history. But I take it you didn’t much care for being practical or sensible, at least when it came to a career path.

  “Yeah.” Aubrey took a sip of her tea and sighed. “The thought of working in some stuffy office, sitting behind a desk and computer for nine or ten hours a day, having to dress up in suits and heels or whatever “business casual” means, made me feel claustrophobic. Trapped. And I knew a job like that just wasn’t for me.”

  “So how did you wind up working for a tour operator?” he prodded. “When you told me you worked at the Westin, I just assumed you were employed directly by the hotel.”

  “Not exactly. I’m officially employed by the tour company, but several major hotel chains - including the Westin - contract them to work out of the hotels. I also worked at a Westin in Acapulco, and for a cruise line up in Alaska. As for how I got started in the business, that goes back to my junior year of college. I was working part-time at a big resort hotel in San Diego in guest services, and found that I really liked the work. I got to interact with hotel guests, recommend places for them to visit, restaurants, that sort of thing. But I also wanted to travel, so signing on with the tour operator was a way to accomplish that.”

  “So you get to move around when you like, work in different places when you want a change?” he asked.

  “Something like that,” she agreed. “Though it’s all done by contract, and they have different lengths to them depending on where you work. In Alaska, for example, the tourist season is only about four months long, from May to September, so that’s one of the shorter assignments. I signed an eighteen month contract when I came to Maui, and it’s up in about six more weeks.”

  “Really?” Jordan regarded her curiously. “So where do you go from here?”

  Aubrey shrugged. “To be honest, I’m not entirely sure. If I decided to stay in Hawaii, whether here in Maui or on another island, it would have to be for another eighteen months, that’s the shortest contract they offer over here. I’ll most likely go back to stay with my parents for a month or so before deciding where to go next. Unless, of course, I decide it’s finally time to grow up and get a real job.”

  “What makes you think that what you do isn’t a real job?” he asked gently.

  She glanced down at her tea cup, clearly ill at ease with this topic of conversation. “It’s not especially challenging or difficult, for one thing. The pay sucks, especially living someplace as expensive as Hawaii. And the schedule is anything but ideal. I always get stuck working weekends. And while I do enjoy working with people, some guests can be - well, let’s call them hard to please.”

  “I see.”

  Jordan sensed her desire to change the subject, so he asked her about her family. “Will your parents be happy to have you back home again? At least for a little while?”

  Aubrey smiled, her blue eyes twinkling with pleasure. “They’ll be over the moon to have me back home, especially my mom. Neither parent will ever admit it, of course, because they know how independent I am, because they raised me to be that way, but I know they worry when I’m living so far from home. And I miss them something fierce. I haven’t seen my parents since they came to visit for a week last summer. There’s no way I can get time off at the holidays, and it’s difficult for them to take vacation during the school year.”

  “They’re teachers?”

  “Professors,” she corrected. “My father is the Dean of the Music Department at San Diego State, and my mother heads up the Latin American Studies Department at the University of San Diego. So the question of my not attending college and getting a degree was never really up for debate in my house. It was always understood growing up that my brothers and I would attend college.”

  “How many brothers do you have?” he asked, pleased that she felt comfortable enough to share this information about her family with him.

  “Just two. Josiah is thirty years old, and works as an immigration rights attorney in the San Diego area, while Mateo’s twenty-eight and finishing up his residency at Cedars Sinai in L.A. Then he plans to volunteer for Doctors Without Borders for about a year before getting a permanent position at an inner city clinic somewhere. So, my parents
have a lawyer, a doctor, and a tour guide in the family. What more could you possibly ask for?” she joked, though it was pretty obvious to Jordan that those particular circumstances bothered Aubrey more than she was willing to admit.

  Tactfully, he didn’t comment on her choice of profession, honing in instead on something else he’d picked up on.

  “Josiah, Mateo, and Aubrey,” he mused. “Why is it that I can’t find a pattern among those three names?”

  She smiled. “You wouldn’t be the first person to wonder at the connection, or lack thereof. But if you actually saw the three of us together, it would be pretty obvious. We’re all adopted. Josiah is originally from Somalia, and Mateo from El Salvador. My parents were never able to have children of their own, but they’ve been the absolute best mother and father any child could ever dream of. Enough so that I’ve never once had the slightest desire to find out who my birth parents are, even though Mom and Dad have always encouraged me to do so if I ever change my mind.”

  “Adopted.”

  Jordan practically whispered the word, and an odd little sensation of unease made him shiver a bit in reaction. But, no, he told himself firmly. He wasn’t going to permit himself to start pondering that revelation, and how it might or might not explain Aubrey’s startling resemblance to Tessa Gregson. He could really let his imagination run wild if he allowed it to, so he put a firm halt to his thoughts right then and there.

  The arrival of the waiter with their dessert provided a welcome distraction from the admittedly far-fetched notions that had briefly crossed his mind, especially when Aubrey literally moaned in pleasure at the first taste of her Nutella cheesecake.

  “This is hands down the most delicious, decadent thing I have ever tasted! Oh, God, I think I might be having an orgasm!” she sighed, licking her fork in pure bliss.

  Jordan’s own fork clattered to his plate, his dessert forgotten as he stared at her in mesmerized disbelief. Her eyes were closed as she ran her tongue over her lips, and all he could think about was ramming his painfully hard cock between those same plush lips and watching as she sucked him off.

  “If a single bite of cheesecake makes you feel like you’re having an orgasm, I can’t wait to see your reaction when you experience the real thing,” he murmured huskily, reaching across the table to brush a stray morsel from the side of her mouth. “Anytime you say the word, in fact. And since I’m something of an expert at orgasms, I can guarantee that the one I’m going to give you tonight - correction, ones - will give you a hell of a lot more pleasure than a few forkfuls of cream cheese and Nutella.”

  At her gasp, he continued to run a finger over her lips, coaxing them to part and allow him entry. Then it was his turn to gasp as she unexpectedly sucked his finger inside her warm, wet mouth, her tongue swirling around it provocatively.

  He practically jerked his hand away, so completely turned on at this moment that he was afraid he’d embarrass himself in front of the entire restaurant if this little seduction game continued.

  “If you want to finish that cheesecake, darlin’,” he cautioned, “better do it fast. Otherwise, I’m going to kiss you in front of this entire restaurant, and I’ve got a feeling they’ll ask us to leave afterwards.”

  Aubrey nodded, her cheeks flushed a vivid pink, and practically shoveled the rest of her dessert into her mouth rapidly. Jordan toyed with his own dessert, his appetite for food having been quickly overtaken by his hunger for her. He took a few deep, calming breaths, reaching for his water glass instead of his coffee cup, and wishing for a tumbler of whisky to magically appear. Aubrey, too, seemed on edge, her tea cup rattling in its saucer when she set it down.

  “Hey, it’s okay,” he soothed, placing a hand over hers. “I didn’t mean to intimidate you, or pressure you. You’ve already noticed that I like to flirt, and sometimes I admittedly come on a little strong. And while we haven’t talked about how this date might or might not end tonight, I want you to know that I would never try to coerce you into having sex. If you’re not comfortable with the idea - if you’re not comfortable with me - then all you have to do is say no, and I’ll respect your decision. Okay?”

  “Okay,” she whispered, her blue eyes gazing back at him steadily. “And I - I don’t know what I want, if I’m being completely honest. I like you, Jordan. I like you a lot. But this is all happening a little faster than I’m used to, you know? I mean, it’s not like I’m a virgin or inexperienced or anything, but I’m also not someone who does one-night stands, either.”

  “I figured that out pretty quickly,” he told her, giving her hand a reassuring squeeze. “Believe me, I’ve hung out in enough singles bars and clubs and crazy parties over the years, and I can figure out immediately what women are going to be easy pick-ups. You’re nothing like any of those women, Aubrey. Not even a little bit. And while you don’t give off any virginal vibes, you also don’t seem like an experienced woman of the world, either. Am I right?”

  Her cheeks flushed an even deeper pink as she gave a little shrug. “More or less,” she replied huskily. “The few guys I’ve been with were all longer-terms things, except for the last one I dated a few months ago. But even that was for a month, not just a night. So this - you - well, it’s a completely new experience for me and I’m just not sure it’s the right thing for me to do.”

  “I don’t blame you in the least for being cautious,” stated Jordan. “Or for not wanting to indulge in a one-night stand. You’re a very special woman, Aubrey, and you deserve a whole lot more than a quick fuck and maybe breakfast the next morning. But I’ll tell you this, darlin’ - I haven’t even kissed you yet, and I already know that I’m going to want a whole lot more than a single night with you. In fact, I wanted to ask if you were free for the next two weeks since I want to see you as much as possible during my stay. What do you say?”

  Her response caught him completely off guard, and instantly set his pulse to racing double time. Aubrey gave him a very deliberate, very seductive little smile before reaching across the table to cup his cheek in her hand, then leaned in to place a quick kiss on his lips.

  “Well, now we’ve officially had our first kiss,” she replied impishly. “And I’m happy to confirm that I’m free every night for the next two weeks. So what comes next?”

  Chapter Six

  Belatedly aware that he was practically jogging through the spacious hotel grounds en route to the elevators, Jordan forced himself to slow his almost frantic pace down to a reasonable stroll. He kept Aubrey’s hand grasped firmly in his, not daring to slide his arm around her waist or shoulders right now, or touch any other part of her delectable body. He was far too aroused, far too aware of her, and anything more intimate than holding hands would likely cause him to lose complete control, and not give a damn who might witness such an event.

  After she’d shocked him speechless with that teasing little kiss, and then inquiring provocatively what came next, Jordan had somewhat clumsily jumped into action. He’d beckoned the waiter over impatiently, motioning for the guest check at the same time, signing it without even bothering to glance at the total. He had surged to his feet, banging his knee against the table as he did so, but hadn’t even winced at the pain as he strode around to Aubrey’s side of the table. In two quick, jerky motions, he had pulled her chair out and helped her to her feet, barely giving her a moment to hastily grab her clutch bag. He offered up a silent thanks that she wasn’t wearing stilettos, thus allowing her to keep up with him as he hustled her out of the restaurant.

  “Is this a race or something?” she asked teasingly, tugging on his coat sleeve with her free hand. “Because if I’d known we were going to run off our dinner, I would have worn my Adidas. Not, of course, that Jenna would have actually let me leave the house with them on.”

  “Sorry,” he replied sheepishly, then tucked her hand in the crook of his elbow. “I’m, uh, usually not this - well, let’s call it impatient, shall we?” He gave into temptation then and slipped
an arm around her narrow waist, pulling her close against him as he murmured in her ear, “Having you in my bed tonight is pretty much all I’ve been able to think about since I saw you emerging from the water, so I’ll apologize right now for my lack of finesse.”

  Aubrey shook her glossy blonde head. “Don’t apologize,” she insisted, reaching up to place a gentle kiss on his cheek. “And I don’t want finesse. I just want you to be you. The real you, not the smooth talking player that you probably like everyone to think you are. Okay?”

  That brief, innocent little peck on the check still managed to arouse him nearly to the breaking point, and he could no longer resist sliding a hand to the back of her head, holding it still for his hungry, demanding kiss. When her lips parted in surrender, he didn’t hesitate to thrust his tongue inside her warm, sweet mouth, kissing her with such intensity that she began to whimper beneath the firm pressure of his mouth on hers.

  Jordan lifted his lips from hers reluctantly, paying no heed to anyone who might have just witnessed that fiery kiss. Aubrey’s eyes were half-shut, her pretty mouth trembling and looking slightly bruised. His hand slid to her waist, giving it a squeeze as he murmured in her ear, “Was that real enough for you, darlin’?”

  She nodded, clutching his leanly muscled forearm for support. “Yeah,” she replied shakily. “That’s - that’s what I meant, all right.”

  He pulled her flush against his side again as they reached the elevators. “Well, then, it’s about to really get real. Let’s head up to my room, okay?”

  Aubrey nodded again, seemingly content to let him take control of things from this point on. He pressed the up button for the elevators, urging her inside as the doors opened up. Neither of them spoke during the short ride up to the tenth floor where his suite was located, but the sexual awareness between them was practically crackling like it was live flame.

 

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