18
JORDANA HAD BEEN AWAKE SINCE DAWN.
Her head was buzzing with a thousand thoughts and minutiae about the exhibit opening that evening, but it was the deep, blissful thrumming of her body that roused her from sleep hours ago.
That enlivened vibration of her limbs and core—of her very blood—was also to blame for the secret, irrepressible smile she couldn’t seem to wipe from her face no matter how hard she tried.
Making love with Nathan last night had been nothing short of spectacular.
Even now, when she closed her eyes, she could still feel his strong hands on her, his hot mouth on her. His hard body moving over her, inside her …
Jordana groaned into her teacup as she took a sip of her favorite morning blend. She’d showered a while ago and now sat in her robe on her bed, answering emails before she and Carys needed to head in to the museum for the day.
“Someone’s up early.” Carys stood in the open doorway of Jordana’s bedroom, leaning against the jamb. Her caramel-brown hair was swept up into a ponytail, baggy gray sweats hanging loosely on her athletic figure. “Everything all right?”
“Yeah.” Jordana nodded, wondering if she looked any different to her friend today. God knew she felt different. Everything seemed different today. “Just getting a jump on a few things since I couldn’t sleep.”
“No wonder,” Carys replied. “Quite a night you had.”
The ghost of a smile played at the corners of her mouth, and Jordana realized instantly that her friend wasn’t referring to the awful incident at La Notte. “You know Nathan was here?”
“I ran into him before sunrise here in the apartment. He was trying to slip out just as I was coming home.”
Jordana hadn’t really expected Nathan to be next to her when she woke up, but she couldn’t deny the pang of disappointment she’d felt when she opened her eyes earlier and found him gone.
And she had to admit, at least to herself, that she’d been hoping to hear from him by now. All she needed was some small indication that last night meant something to him too.
“How did he seem to you?” she asked, setting her tea on the nightstand to give Carys her full attention. She was hungry for every last detail her friend could provide. “What did he tell you? Did he say anything about me?”
Carys arched a slender brow. “You mean after he realized I wasn’t someone he needed to attack for coming in to harm his woman?”
“Did he say that—those exact words?” Jordana’s heart skipped a beat. “How did he say it? Did he specifically call me his woman?”
Laughing softly, Carys entered the room and took a seat on the edge of the bed. “I see this is even worse than I first suspected.” She leaned in and whispered, “If you want to write him a note, I’ll ask Rune to pass it to him after school.”
“Tell me what he said!” Jordana gave her friend’s shoulder a light shove, giggling with her now. “Come on, Car. I need details. I’m serious.”
“I know you are,” Carys relented. “And so is Nathan, I think. More serious than I’ve ever known him to be.”
Without saying any more, Carys got up from the bed and strode into Jordana’s walk-in closet. “Did you decide what you’re wearing tonight?”
Jordana hurried after her. “I’ve narrowed it down to the black tea-length or the pale rose silk cocktail dress.” It was hard to think about clothing choices, let alone discuss them when her breath had suddenly caught in her lungs. “What do you mean, Nathan is more serious than you’ve ever known him? Serious … about me?”
Carys found the two dresses Jordana mentioned and was now pulling them out of the wardrobe. She held them up, one in each hand. “I’d have to see these on you before I could decide which one is best. Here. Try the black one first.”
Jordana grabbed the dress her friend pushed toward her. “Did Nathan say he was serious about me?”
Carys waggled her hand dismissively. “Let me see the dress, then we’ll talk.”
On a grumble, Jordana twisted her long blond hair into a makeshift knot on top of her head, then shucked her robe and bra and slipped into the fitted black dress. It was her original choice, a purchase she’d been saving for months specifically for the exhibit opening. Classic, conservative, perfect.
Carys cocked her head to the side, then feigned a yawn. “Next.”
“You don’t like this one at all?” Jordana turned to one of the full-length mirrors in the massive walk-in. The portrait-collared, mid-calf-length dress was lovely.
It would have been an excellent choice for any social event … particularly if Jordana was officiating at a funeral instead of an art exhibit.
She slanted her friend’s reflection a conceding look, then crossed her arms over her br**sts. “Tell me what he said.”
“He said he didn’t want anything to happen to you. He doesn’t want to see you get hurt.”
Not exactly a love song, but it made Jordana’s heart pound heavy and hopeful in her breast. “That’s it? He didn’t say anything more than that?”
Carys gestured for her to continue with the fashion show. Jordana frowned but quickly took off the black frock. When she reached for the equally uninspired rose silk dress, Carys snatched it away and pulled a different one from out of the sea of elegant attire. “Try this instead.”
“Oh,” Jordana said, already beginning to shake her head. “No, that’s not appropriate for tonight, and I—”