How in the world had he ever found this conceited woman attractive? Her blond hair, blue eyes and Playboy bunny history didn’t matter. She paled in comparison to Brooke.
He glanced at his watch pointedly. “This isn’t a good time. I’m on my way out.
I’ll escort you to your car.”
Sheila perched a hip on his desk, unmistakably encroaching on his personal space.
“It’ll be worth your while to wait. I have some pretty interesting inside scoop from the Garrison camp on some stock purchasing plans.”
There had been a time he and Emilio accepted any tidbits on the Garrisons she offered. That time had passed. He’d promised Brooke honesty and he meant to follow through on that vow.
He thought he’d been clear with Sheila in their last phone conversation that they were done. And when she’d persisted by leaving messages, he’d made his point again with silence. Apparently subtlety didn’t work with her. “Sheila, I’m not in the market for any information you have about the Garrisons. If you’ve even glanced at the newspapers, you know I’m committed to Brooke now. Besides, any relationship you and I had ended months ago.”
“Oh, that’s right.” She shrugged her long hair over her shoulder. “You have your own in with that family now.”
His jaw tightened over the notion of gossip like that upsetting Brooke. “Watch yourself, Sheila. You’re overstepping.”
He rounded the desk, set on ushering Sheila out—and away from his files—on his way down to the car. “I need to get home to Brooke. She had a visit to the doctor today, and I want to hear how it went.”
Sheila stepped in front of him, blocking the pathway to the door. “It must be tough for you, having her on bed rest.”
Why hadn’t he seen through this woman from the start? An image of them as a couple flashed through his mind. He winced inwardly at the memory of himself then, the kind of man who didn’t always take the time to see beyond the surface when it came to bed partners.
Then nearly six months ago, Brooke had blazed into his life with so much more than surface attraction. The heat had transformed him into something different, someone he liked a whole lot more. That knowledge made it ridiculously easy to push this superficially beautiful woman away from him. “It’s tougher for her with the cabin fever, which is why I’m leaving now.”
“I imagine a strong man like you is experiencing a different fever altogether.”
Her painted lips curved in a knowing smile.
Enough wasting time. He cut straight to the chase. “Sheila, I’m committed to making a future with Brooke and our child.”
“So? I’m not looking for a serious relationship. That doesn’t mean we can’t have fun.” She reached to cup his neck. “You look like you need to let go and relax.”
Her touch left him cold. No surprise. He gripped her arms, ready to move her gently, but firmly, away. “Sheila, it’s time for you to go—”
A gasp stopped him midsentence.
Damn it. He knew before he looked. Brooke had made it back from her appointment.
Tears clouding her vision, Brooke jabbed the elevator’s down button again and again. Sure, it didn’t make the thing arrive any faster, but the action provided an outlet for her anger—and disillusionment.
A traffic jam?
She’d been an idiot to believe his lame excuse. She couldn’t help but think of how often she’d seen a similar scenario play out with her parents. Her father would always offer an excuse as to why he couldn’t spend more time at home. Her mother would cry—then drink.
Now Brooke knew all too well what her father had been doing during the time away.
Seeing his other family. She wouldn’t be so naive as to think Jordan wouldn’t do the same to her. And to do so with some painted-up Sheila person…
Sheila?
Wait. Now she realized where she’d seen this woman before. She’d worked at Garrison Inc. as a receptionist. Her brother had even offered to send her over to help with paperwork while Brooke was on bed rest. How damn coincidental to find her brother’s receptionist here.
Or was it?
A woman intimate with Jordan , yet she worked for Parker? At the least, it whispered of conflict of interest. At the worst, it screamed setup. Could this Sheila person be a corporate spy sent to scoop secrets from her family’s business?
Parker had said often enough that Jordan would do anything to win one over on the Garrisons.
Fury mingled with the disillusionment. She dashed her wrist across her cheek, swiping away foolish tears. She would be stronger than her mother.
However, for the first time, she sensed how deeply the years of betrayal must have cut Bonita.
“Brooke, hold on.” Jordan ’s voice stroked over her a second before she felt the heat of him stopping behind her. “Nothing happened between me and Sheila McKay.”
“Of course it didn’t.” She jabbed the button again. “I walked in.”
Although who was to say she hadn’t arrived at the tail end of a heated goodbye.
She choked on the thought and the ball of tears at the back of her throat.
He sidestepped between her and the glowing down button. “Nothing was going to happen.”
Right. “Has she or has she not been spying on my family’s business while she worked for Parker? You promised always to be honest.”
She hated the way he hesitated. But she wouldn’t start crying again, not in front of him.
He pinched the bridge of his nose, eyes closing. From frustration? Or simply to gather his excuses?
Jordan looked at her again, his blue eyes appearing genuine—damn him. “In the past, Sheila and I saw each other. And yes, over the last few months she has brought information in an attempt to patch things up.” He held up a finger to stop her from speaking. “But I have not slept with her since the first time you and I were together. Something changed for me that night. I didn’t fully understand it then. I just knew no one interested me once I’d been with you.”
His words rang true. Except…
“How do I know if I can trust you?”
He’d lied to her about the newspaper leak. He’d easily hid the truth about her mother’s intervention. Although he’d made an eloquent case for why he’d tried.
Bottom line, she didn’t want to be in a relationship full of secrets. Even if it cost her the family she’d just begun to dream about.
“Brooke…” He cupped the nape of her neck and rested his forehead against hers.