Finding the Perfect Man (16 page)

She nodded, but her narrowed eyes proved she didn’t believe him. His heart wrenched.

“By the way,” she added, “where did you get that gun last night?”

“I’ve carried one since I became co-owner at Charlie’s Passion. Before coming into your office yesterday, I thought I might need it, so I fastened it to the strap around my ankle.”

She sighed. “Thanks for thinking of me. At least I know if the prowler comes back, you have a gun.”

“He won’t be back. I’ll keep looking for some kind of clues to give to the police, okay? You go back in the house and wait for me.”

She shook her head. “I don’t want to go back in the house. I want to help you look.”

“It’s chilly this morning. Your cheeks are already red. I think you should go back in.” He glanced up at the clear sky. “No wonder it’s so cold. There are no clouds.” By the hard set of her stubborn chin, he knew talking her out of it would be like playing tug-of-war. “Fine, you can help, but do you know what you’re looking for?”

“No, not really, but I’ll try anyway.” She turned away from him and crouched low, her face close to the bushes.

He smiled, letting his stare move over her. She gently moved things with her gloved hands, looking as if she tried her hardest not to disturb anything. Her hair was left down to hang around her shoulders today, and he couldn’t believe how much he liked seeing her this way.

She didn’t go into work because of what happened last night, and thankfully, Erica had rescheduled Jordan’s appointments. She definitely didn’t look anything like the professional doctor he’d been seeing lately. He really liked the casual look. Of course, because she seemed so relaxed, he wanted to make her feel more relaxed. He wanted to make her smile and laugh, and fall into his arms as they cuddled next to the fire.

He cursed silently.
That
was not the thing to be thinking about at a time like this…so why couldn’t he tear his attention away from her?

“Brock?”

Her voice startled him from his thoughts, and he blinked, focusing on her beautiful face. Her tinted pink cheeks and upturned lips were proof of a small grin beginning to spread.

“Yes, Jordan?”

“I really don’t think you’re going to find much evidence that the prowler was here, by staring at me. Although he did touch me, it was on my night gown, not these clothes.”

Heat rushed to his cheeks from being caught gawking. “I know, but I can’t help it. You’re too pretty not to stare at.”

It only took a few seconds before her smile disappeared and a scowl replaced it. “You can just erase whatever is on your mind right now, because it’s never going to happen,” she snapped and jumped to her feet, then stomped into the house.

His heard sank—again. How could she have turned her heart cold so fast? And what could he do to thaw it out and reheat it?

Turning on his heels, he walked around the corner of the townhouse, trying to focus once again on looking for clues, but after two hours of searching inside and outside her house, he still found nothing that would direct the police to the intruder last night.

This led Brock to one conclusion. The prowler must be a professional.

He studied the back wall up to her window. Why wasn’t the wooden frame that held up the vines broken? A few vines were broken, but that was all. He came to realize the prowler must not weigh much. A woman, perhaps? No, Jordan said it was a man’s voice.

He rubbed the back of his stiff neck and walked to the front door. When he entered, the heavenly aroma of soup filled his head. He closed his eyes and breathed deeper. His stomach growled in protest at not being fed for several hours, since last night to be exact. His body craved the warmth he’d lost being out in the cold weather for so long, and whatever Jordan had whipped together in her kitchen, he’d surely love it.

Jordan stood beside the stove, stirring the simmering pot. He walked up behind her and looked down over her shoulder.

“Umm.” He took in another deep breath. “It smells great.”

She turned her head and glanced at him. “Are you hungry?”

His eyes met hers. Suddenly he hungered for more than just food. “I’m starved.”

“Good, because I made plenty.”

He breathed in the hypnotic smell of roses that always surrounded her, and his heart flipped. He let his eyes move over her face, her beckoning azure eyes, the cute, little nose, and her luscious, full mouth. Yes, she had plenty to offer. If only she would.

He licked his lips, and she did the same. The overpowering desire to kiss her made his heart ache, but he refused to give in to his urges. Call it an ego thing, but he didn’t like being slapped down.

Taking hold of her shoulders, he leaned closer to her neck, but just before he touched his mouth to her skin, he moved his face until it hovered above the simmering pot of soup. He breathed in, taking in the delicious smell.

“What kind is it?” He knew his voice was deep and affected, but tried to make it sound normal.

“Clam Chowder.” Her tone had a slight shake to it. “I don’t get very fancy when it comes to cooking, sorry to say.”

He withdrew from the smell, but closer to her. “That’s okay. I don’t eat a lot of home cooked meals.”

Her eyebrows rose. “You don’t?”

“No, I usually eat out. It’s a waste of time only cooking for one.”

Her mouth burrowed in a frown. “Yes, I know that story very well.”

He wanted to take her in his arms and hold her, take away her pain, her loneliness, hoping it would be an aid to the same kind of lost feelings he experienced. But he resisted. If she wanted him, she’d have to make the first move.

“Shall I set the table?”

Her gaze fell to his mouth once again. “Yes, thank you.”

It was all he could do not to stand beside her and caress her the way he wanted, but he grudgingly pulled himself away and collected the dishes. He moved around the table, setting down the bowls, and pretended not to notice Jordan staring at him. He also tried not to grin because of it.

She cleared her throat. “I thought about installing an alarm for the house.”

He looked up at her. “I think that’s a great idea. Do you have one for your office, too?”

“Not yet.”

“It would be a good idea to get one for both.”

She nodded. “I’ll look into it.”

“I know someone. If you’re interested, after lunch I could take you to him.”

She smiled. “Thank you. That would be nice.”

It seemed she didn’t want to talk much. Her formality over everything bothered him. His patience sucked, too. He wanted her to realize she wanted to kiss him now…and that she forgave him.

She set the pot of soup on the table. Being a polite hostess, she took his bowl and filled it, then repeated the process for her own meal.

They ate a few minutes in silence. Every so often, she lifted her eyes and met his, then quickly looked away. After a few minutes, she straightened in her chair and stared directly at him.

“Brock, tell me about Lanie.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Why?”

“I’m just curious.”

“What do you want to know?”

“Was everything you said about her true? Did she leave you for your best friend?”

He chuckled and took another spoonful of soup. Once he swallowed, he nodded. “Everything happened pretty much the way I told you. I came home one day from work and overheard my wife with another man. I nearly threw up right there on the floor. I’d wanted to charge in on them and rip the guy to pieces. I really don’t know why I didn’t go with my gut instincts.” He dipped his spoon in the bowl again and took another sip.

“What did you do?”

“Left the house.”

“Did Lanie know you were there and overheard?”

“No.”

“How long before you told her?”

“A couple of weeks.” He lifted the spoon to his mouth and sucked in the soup.

“Then what happened?”

He wiped the napkin on his mouth. “Before I confronted her, she started leaving little hints around the house, hoping I’d find out. So I told her I knew.” He shrugged. “She laughed in my face, if you can believe it.” He bunched his hands in fists and breathed deeply. The pain from that time resurfaced, and he wasn’t prepared for the crushing blow. “She accused me of cheating on her first, which was why she’d decided to play-the-field a bit.”

Jordan tilted her head, her eyes softening. “Have you ever cheated on her?”

“No.” He tried to relax his tense body. “I’m a faithful man. I would never cheat on my wife…or a girlfriend. During the time with Lanie I was too busy at work I didn’t even have time for my own friends. I worked all day and came home just in time to eat, shower, and hit the sack. I think she accused me of cheating to rectify her affair.”

Jordan nodded. “It’s one of the first signs that your spouse is cheating.”

He picked up the glass of milk and drank. “That’s what I’ve heard.”

She smiled. “I’m happy to hear you didn’t cheat on her, though.”

After setting the glass down, he reached over and squeezed her hand. “Thanks for believing me.”

She nodded. “I can tell you’re not lying…about that.”

The quirk of her mouth told him she was teasing, and he laughed.

As Brock enjoyed his meal he watched her, hoping to see some kind of encouraging reaction. She threw him some sly glances a few times, but he didn’t detect anything close to interest, or the desire he wanted. Perhaps she was a good actress? No woman could turn on passion, then turn it off just as fast.

The meal passed quickly, and she stood and picked up the empty bowls. He laid his hand over hers, and stopped her.

“Here, let me do that. Get your coat and we’ll head out to see my friend.”

Her eyes widened. “Really?”

“Yes.” He shooed her with his hands. “Now, go get ready.”

He moved the warm soup back to the stove and placed the lid on it. After he wiped off the table, he shrugged on his coat, grabbed his car keys and walked out to his truck with Jordan. She reached for the handle, but he took hold of it before she could and opened the door. She passed him a small smile and climbed in.

During the drive, she stared out the window. The afternoon sky had darkened quickly, preparing for another snow storm. Funny how quickly the weather changed in Montana.

Sighing heavily, she relaxed in her seat, crossing her arms. She turned her head his way. He liked the fact that she watched him. He liked it a lot.

Glancing at her, he smiled. “What are you thinking?”

She shrugged. “I wasn’t thinking anything, really.”

He squeezed her knee, then left his hand there. “Are you all right?”

“Yes.”

He watched the road, but every once in a while he looked at her. “You do know I won’t let this man harm you, don’t you?”

She shrugged. “I guess.”

“You guess?” He glanced at her again. “You’re not totally convinced?”

“Well, last night he was able to sneak in my bedroom while you were downstairs. I know the alarm system won’t be set up for a few more days, so how will you be able to protect me until then?”

“How can I protect you?” He smiled wide. “Simple, really. I’ll sleep in your bedroom.”

She forced a laugh. “Dream on Romeo. That’s not going to happen.”

“Then I suppose there is only one other option.”

“What’s that?”

“You’ll come to my place tonight.”

FIFTEEN

The afternoon moved at a turtle’s pace until Jordan was ready to scream. Brock’s friend, Dave, wanted to install the alarm system in her office right away. So within an hour after signing the paperwork, they returned to her office.

She tried to keep herself busy while Brock helped Dave install the alarm, but every time she heard Brock’s deep baritone laugh, shivers danced over her skin, igniting warmth that flowed through her.

What kind of power did Brock have over her? She was supposed to be mad at him. She was supposed to hate him, distrust him. Yet, all she could think about was being in his arms and kissing him to distraction.

She remembered the worried expression on his face last night when he came into her room, holding his gun, prepared to protect her. The way he’d held her as if he wouldn’t let anything happen to her softened her heart. When she’d heard his voice crack when he assured her this other man would never touch her…that nearly broke all of her defenses.

Jordan especially thought about this afternoon. She tried to ignore the way her body had melted when he’d stood so close behind her at the stove. The way he helped her set and clear the table. He even rinsed the dishes, for heaven’s sake! Brock was such a gentleman to open the car door for her, too.

Why would a man so close to being perfect have man’s natural talent of deceiving, too? It just wasn’t fair.

“Jordan?”

She jerked her head up and looked at Brock in the doorway. “Yes?”

“Come in here. Dave wants to show you how to work the alarm system.”

She nodded and closed the patient’s file, she’d been staring at for the past hour. Before leaving her room, she slipped the folder back in its place inside the filing cabinet and locked it.

While Dave explained how to work the alarm, she was more aware of Brock’s presence as he stood close beside her. With every breath, she took in his manly scent, bringing back heated memories of their passionate moments together.

She pasted on a smile and nodded, pretending to hear every word Dave said. Later, she’d have to go back through and read the manual before she could work the alarm. Thankfully, she didn’t have to be back to work until Monday.

She shook hands with Dave and thanked him for taking the time to come out today.

Dave gathered his tools and left. She and Brock were alone once again. This was too hard on her emotions, not to mention the havoc it played with her mind.

“Are you ready to go home?” Brock’s voice startled her.

He leaned back against the wall in that all too cocky position. His arms crossed over his large chest, and one ankle casually rested behind the other. He knew what he was doing and how sexy he looked, which was the reason for his knee-buckling grin.

“Yes. I’m ready,” she said. She wanted to move, but her body froze as she stared at him. Curse him for looking so adorable.

His chest rose and fell quicker, and she knew her heart hammered just as fast. She swallowed hard.

“Do you need to go back to your house for something?” he asked.

“Your serious about taking me to your place?”

“Yes. I can protect you better.”

“Then I’d better get some things from my house first.”

Many minutes passed before Brock slowly pulled himself away from the wall and strode toward her. She silently screamed at her legs to move, but they disobeyed her command and stayed cemented to the ground. Her breathing became more irregular the closer he came. Finally, he stood directly in front of her.

His intoxicating aftershave overwhelmed her, until she wanted to press herself against him and throw her arms around his neck. She wanted to be held by him, to be kissed, and most importantly, to feel the protection he was offering.

“Well, then, let’s go.” His voice was deep and sexy. She loved it.

“Yes, let’s go.”

But neither of them moved. It was as if she were hypnotized to stand still and gaze into his emerald eyes.

He leaned forward. Her heart pounded quicker. His hand cupped the side of her face, and his lips came toward hers. A grin spread on his tempting mouth just before he reached the spot that cried out for his kiss.

“Not here, pretty lady,” he whispered. “I’ll take you back to my place, and we can let ourselves do whatever our heart’s desire there.”

His words snapped her out of her hypnosis. It shocked her to think he knew exactly what was running through her mind. Well, she’d put a stop to that. She could control her desires, unlike most men she knew.

She stepped away and folded her arms. “Actually, no, we will
not
do whatever our heart desires, so get that idea out of your head once and for all.” She turned and marched toward the office door and hollered over her shoulder, “Come on, Mr. Hamill, we’re wasting precious time standing in my office gawking at each other.”

* * * *

So maybe Jordan couldn’t control her desires as well as she thought. Right now Brock’s close presence disturbed her during the ride to his cabin. They’d already gone to her house to collect her things, and the ride through the snow-packed roads in his big truck was almost more than she could handle. For being a big truck, she was too close to him on the seat. His musky cologne filled the air around her. She’d always enjoyed a good-smelling man, and Brock topped her list.

They reached his cabin and he pulled into the long driveway. It amazed her how lovely his home was. The two-story, A-frame, log style house was surrounded by many acres of the most beautiful wooded land she’d ever seen in Montana—and with it all covered in snow made the phrase
winter wonderland
more real.

He pulled into the double-car garage and stopped the truck beside his Jaguar. Either his construction business was doing very well, or he was making money as co-owner of Charlie’s Passions. After opening her door—like a gentleman—he carried her suitcase to the door entering his home. They entered into one side of the living room.

She stepped away from him and slowly circled the front room. Decorated in dark colors, deep blue carpets and curtains, and what looked to be hand-carved oak furniture, it overwhelmed her.

“What do you think?” he asked.

“It’s beautiful. I love it.” She met his stare from across the room. “Do you really live here or are you trying to impress me with someone else’s house?”

He laughed. “This is where I live. I promise.”

“Well, if it makes any difference, I am impressed.” She grinned.

“Let me show you to the guest room.”

She followed him down a long hallway and to a bedroom. Up ahead was another room, which from where she stood, looked to be the master bedroom. When she stepped inside the guest room, she gasped. This was no guest room in her book. A walk-in closet took up most of the wall, just opposite the queen-size bed. On top of the five-drawer cabinet sat a wide-screen tv. Good grief, her own room wasn’t this big. This one even had an adjoining bath.

“Do you like?” he asked.

“Once again, you have surprised me, Brock.” She met his gaze. “It’s gorgeous.”

“Wait until you see my bedroom.” He wagged his eyebrows.

“What makes you think I’m going to see it?”

“Since you think this room is
gorgeous,
I bet you’re wondering right now what mine looks like.”

She scowled, teasingly. She really hated that he could read her mind so well. “Maybe later, not now.”

He chuckled and set her suitcase on the bed. “Are you hungry?”

“No, I’m fine.”

“Let me know if you need anything.” He walked out, leaving her alone in the room.

She sure hoped he did something that upset her really soon, because if she stayed in this grand place any longer, she might not want to leave.

She quickly unpacked and then walked back into the large living room. Brock squatted in front of the fireplace, building a fire. With his back toward her, she took her time in admiring the living room and let her gaze move into the kitchen…the grandest kitchen she’d ever seen. The many cabinets were made of oak with shiny golden knobs. An island counter stood in the middle of the floor, canopied with hanging pots and pans. Large spacious bay windows on two sides of the kitchen, with white half-curtains covering them.

She’d always dreamed of having a kitchen like this, but she’d never have the time to use it the way she wanted. Such was the life of a workaholic.

“What do you think of my kitchen?” Brock asked from the other room.

She wandered back to him, shaking her head. “I swear I’ve never seen anything so amazing in my life. Did your construction company build this especially for you and your wife?”

He closed the glass screen on the fireplace, stood and faced her. “No. Lanie never lived here. This house was built after our divorce, for which I’m glad. If I would have had this place when we were married, I’m sure she would have gotten it—and a cheating spouse should never be that lucky.”

“So true.”

Silence stretched between them again, feeling awkward. The wood crackled in the fireplace as the room slowly filled with warmth.

“Well, I’m going to leave you for a moment and go shovel the walk and driveway. Feel free to wander around my house, although I’d like you to wait so I can take you on a tour myself, but make yourself at home. If you need me for anything, I’ll be outside.”

She nodded. “I think I’ll just sit in front of the fireplace and relax.”

He pointed toward his cd stereo and speakers. “Do you want me to put on some music?”

“Christmas music?”

“Yes, I have that.” He moved to the player and pushed a few buttons. Immediately, soft music began playing. “Is that all right?”

“Perfect, thank you.”

He bundled his coat around his neck, slipped on his thick gloves, and went outside. She plopped down on his soft couch, lined with dozens of small pillows. Minutes passed, and she wished he’d hurry and come back to keep her company. Strange to think she missed him already.

Groaning, she hugged a pillow to her chest, wishing she wouldn’t think such things. She closed her eyes and curled herself on the couch as she tried to send her thoughts in different directions. She tried to think about her other patients. But one patient stood out above the rest...Brock as he’d pretended to be.

Growling, she adjusted herself on the couch again. She thought of Serena. How long did her stepmother have to live? Serena had aged so much since the last time Jordan had seen her. It couldn’t be long now. The night they had dinner, she’d been pale and looked so tired. Even Brock saw the signs.

Brock! Oh, why did he have to constantly invade her thoughts?

This time, she let the pictures of him fill her head. She allowed herself to remember that night when they danced, the lovely necklace he gave her, and the way he gazed into her eyes and kissed her so passionately. Tingles crept along her skin when she remembered his gentle touch on her face, her arms and neck. She could still see his expression when he’d opened the gift she’d gave to him. Tenderness and gratefulness were in his eyes, his words, and his kiss.

She let herself relax as she relived that special night. The night she’d never forget. She would have liked to experience much more with Brock, but there had been no time.

The loud scraping against the window jarred Jordan out of her dream. She bolted up on the couch, her mind whirling. The scraping sounded again, and she looked out the window. The wind blew the tree branch against the window as snow swirled everywhere.

Blinking several times, she regained her bearings. When had it become so dark? She glanced around the room for a clock. How long had she been lying on the couch dreaming about Brock?

A large crocheted blanket covered her. She must have fallen asleep, and Brock had covered her up.
How sweet.

Rubbing her hands over her face, she forced herself to wake up completely. From the look of the wind outside, another storm had arrived in full force. The fire was still blazing, making the room toasty warm.

She pushed the blanket off and stood. Stretching the kinks out of her body, she walked further into the house to find Brock. The house echoed with silence. Almost too quiet.

“Brock?”

She waited for an answer, but didn’t hear any. She stepped further, daring to go down the hallway toward his bedroom. The sound of water running grew louder the closer she came to the room. The door stood open, and hesitantly, she peeked inside. The master bedroom also had an adjoining bath, and from the sound of it, Brock was using the shower.

She
swallowed hard. Going inside was
not
a good idea!

Yet, curiosity pulled her inside. After all, she did want to see what his room looked like.

Hesitantly, she stepped inside and scoped out the room. A hand-carved, wooden frame held the king-size mattress, covered by an old-fashioned, brown, patch-work quilt. The six drawers and wardrobe closets were made to match the rest of the bedroom set. In another corner stood a full-screen television—much bigger than the one in the guest room. On the ceiling hung a ceiling fan, but not just any ordinary one. The wooden blades were the same color as the drawers, wardrobe and bedframe. The trim was gold, as were the light fixtures, and the bulbs were pearl shaped. What made this one stand out was the large size…and how many bulbs grouped in the middle.