“How can you think that?” Her brown eyes went wide, then definitely glinted with guilt.
He reminded himself of her pale face and kept his own stirring anger in check.
“For the very same reason you believe the only reason I’m with you is to gain access to your family’s stock.”
Sure, a union between them made good business sense. But he also couldn’t miss that the more time he spent with Brooke, the less he thought about corporations.
The apartment dates, with just the two of them, had given him far more insight about her than twice as many outings in a distracting public crowd could have.
Pointedly, he held her gaze until finally she looked down and away, striding toward the kitchen in an obvious move to avoid him. “We don’t have much reason to trust each other, do we?”
He watched her walk, the gentle sway of her hips beneath the dark clingy fabric, the hint of bare calf at the slit of her hem. His mind mentally traveled up that patch of skin to silky thigh.
“I guess not.” Following her, he lounged in the archway linking the kitchen to the dining area, trying to hang on to the conversation long enough to address her fears about him. “How do we get past that?”
“More dating?” She pulled out a large bottled water from the refrigerator and filled two crystal glasses. “Time.”
“Exactly.” He’d solidified his point about dating. Apparently he’d done well enough in hiding his own restlessness. And since he didn’t want to let on that his thoughts kept straying to her possible choice of lingerie tonight, he distracted himself with figuring out what it was about this place and her mother’s home that bugged him.
He took the glasses from her, returned to the living room and set their drinks on the coffee table. “How about we start small tonight?”
“What do you mean?” She eyed him suspiciously.
“Let’s sit.” He would make her more comfortable by connecting with her the best way he knew how. Their words might do battle, but the heat between them had always been in perfect harmony.
Warily, she perched on the edge of the overstuffed white sofa. “Okay? What now?”
“Do you trust me with your feet?”
“That’s a strange question.”
Kneeling in front of her, he pulled off her shoes and tossed the high heels under the coffee table. He sat on the sofa and swung her legs onto his lap, gripping her feet in his hands. He kept his eyes off the way her hem hitched higher, knowing he’d never survive this if he continued torturing himself with thoughts of undressing her. Instead, his thumbs worked a gentle massage along the arch of her instep.
“Ahhh…” Her head slumped sideways to rest against the couch. “Uhmmm, okay…”
The sweet hum of approval in her throat would have encouraged any man, and he looked forward to hearing her make that same sound when he touched her in many, many more places. “I take that as consent to continue.”
“A definite yes.” She reached behind her and cleared away half of the pink throw pillows so she could settle into the crook of the sofa.
Her shoulder shifted, sending her full br**sts in a tantalizing shimmy of movement while she made herself more comfortable. His mouth went dry, and he reached for his water. He’d been with too many women to count, and none had this powerful effect on him.
After he replaced his half-empty water glass on the coffee table, he pressed his thumbs back into the graceful arch of her right foot and decided to see if he could tease a smile back to her face. “Since you’re in a yes mood, how about you marry me?”
She didn’t so much as flinch, much less open her eyes. “Don’t push your luck.”
“Can’t blame a guy for trying.”
Sure enough, the corners of her mouth twitched with a grin as she relaxed deeper into the cushions, hugging one of those froufrou pink pillows.
The business world hadn’t labeled him persistent without cause. He would win her over. He was patient as well as persistent, a combination for success.
Never had the stakes been so high, and not just on the business front. He refused to let his child be born without his name. From a young age, he’d known too well how vulnerable a young kid could be without a father.
He’d been told how Emilio’s biological father had abandoned his responsibilities.
When Emilio’s mother had died, Emilio would have become a ward of the state if Jordan ’s parents hadn’t adopted their nanny’s orphaned son.
Jordan refused to be like the man who’d left an innocent kid alone and helpless.
Sure Brooke had plenty of family, but never would he let his child wonder why his own father hadn’t cared enough to be there.
His hands gripped tighter around Brooke’s feet as if he could somehow will her to stay with him. “You’re just as sexy in sandals as you are in heels.”
She opened one eye to peek at him. “Are you jumping on my mother’s bandwagon and telling me I have fat feet?”
He would rather guide conversations away from that drunken bat. “You have beautiful feet, with pretty red toenails. I just want to know why you won’t pamper yourself. Take it easy during your pregnancy.”
“I’m letting you pamper me right now. Don’t ruin it by grouching at me.” The hint of a pout on her lips gave him an almost irresistible urge to mold her mouth against his for a taste.
“Fair enough.” He let his hands glide up to her ankles, his touch growing lighter.
When she didn’t object, he inched his way higher to her calves, more of a stroke now than a massage against her bare flesh. Her honey-toned skin still carried a light tan left over from the summer.
Her chest rose and fell evenly. Had she fallen asleep? He skimmed his fingers to the back of her knees, a place he remembered well as being an erogenous zone.
Her breathing hitched, then increased.
Oh, yeah. Her eyes might be closed but she was totally awake and not stopping him.
He could continue farther up her dress, likely without protest from her. But he’d better not take the risk now. He’d won time with her. He needed to use it wisely.
Jordan inched his hands from beneath the hem of her dress.
Her lashes fluttered open, and her arms lifted.
Hell, yeah. He couldn’t stop the smile from sneaking over his face, and she grinned back. So he waited for her to make the next move.
Her arms hooked around his neck as her mouth parted to greet his with a sigh of acceptance. He wanted to touch all of her, but restraint seemed to be working more in his favor. He planted his hands on either side of her on the couch, careful to keep his full weight off her. As much as he ached for closer contact, he needed to be careful of the growing swell of her stomach. Why couldn’t she see that he simply wanted to take care of her and the baby?