The Man You'll Marry (8 page)

Jill read the letter twice. Her pulse quickened as her eyes lifted and involuntarily returned to the lanai directly across from her own.

The frantic pace of her heart slowed to normal.

The grouch was gone.

Jill recalled Aunt Milly’s letter to Shelly. “When you receive this dress,” she’d written, “the first man you meet is the man you’ll marry.”

So it wasn’t the grouch, it was someone else. Not that she really believed in any of this. Still, her knees went unaccountably weak with relief.

After unpacking her clothes, Jill showered and lay down for a few minutes. She hadn’t intended to fall asleep, but when she awoke, a rosy dusk had settled. Flickering fires from the bamboo poles that surrounded the pool sent shadows dancing on her walls.

She’d seen him, Jill realized. While she slept. Her hero, her predestined husband. But try as she might, she
couldn’t bring him into clear focus. Naturally it was her imagination. Fanciful thinking. Dreams gone wild. Jill reminded herself stoutly that she didn’t believe in the power of the wedding dress any more than she believed in the Easter Bunny. But it was nice to fantasize now and then, to pretend.

Unquestionably, there was a certain amount of anticipation created by the delivery of the wedding dress and Shelly’s letter. But unlike her friend, Jill didn’t expect anything to come of this. Jill’s feet were firmly planted on the ground. She wasn’t as whimsical as Shelly, nor was she as easily influenced.

True, at twenty-eight, Jill was more than ready to marry and settle down. She knew she wanted children eventually, too. But when it came to finding the man of her dreams, she’d prefer to do it the old trial-and-error way. She didn’t need a magic wedding dress guiding her toward him!

Initially, Shelly had had many of the same thoughts herself, Jill remembered, but she’d married the first man she’d met after the dress arrived.

The first man you meet
. She was thinking about that while she changed into a light cotton dress and sandals. She was still thinking about it as she rode the elevator down to the lobby to have a look around.

There must have been something in the air. Maybe it was because she was on vacation and feeling free of her usual routines and restraints; Jill didn’t know. But for some reason she found herself glancing around, wondering which man it might be.

The hotel was full of possibilities. A distinguished gentleman sauntered past. An ambassador perhaps? Or a politician? Hmm, that might be nice.

Nah, she countered silently, laughing at herself. She wasn’t interested in politics. Furthermore she didn’t see herself as an ambassador’s wife. She’d probably say the wrong thing to the wrong person and inadvertently cause an international incident.

A guy who looked like a rock star strolled her way next. Now, there was an interesting prospect, although Jill had a minor problem picturing herself married to a man who wore his hair longer than she did. He was cute, though. A definite possibility—
if
she took Shelly’s letter seriously.

A doctor would be ideal, Jill decided. With her medical background, they were sure to have a lot in common. She scanned the lobby area, searching for someone who looked as if he’d feel at home with a stethoscope around his neck.

No luck. Nor, for that matter, did she seem to be generating any interest herself. She might as well be invisible. So much for that! These speculations were all in fun anyway….

Swallowing an urge to laugh, she headed out the back of the hotel toward the pristine beach. A lazy evening stroll among swaying palms sounded just the thing.

She walked toward the ocean, removed her shoes and held them by the straps as she wandered ankle-deep into the delightfully warm water. She wasn’t
paying much attention to where she was going, thinking, instead, about her hopes for a family of her own. Thinking about the few truly happy memories she had of her father. The Christmas when she was five and a camping trip two years later. A picnic, once. But by the time she was eight, his success had overtaken him. It wasn’t that he didn’t love her or her mother, she supposed, but—

“I wouldn’t go out much farther if I were you,” a deep male voice called from behind her.

Jill’s pulse soared at the unexpectedness of the intrusion. She saw the silhouette of a man leaning against a palm tree. In the darkness she couldn’t make out his features, yet he seemed vaguely familiar.

“I won’t,” she said, trying to see who’d spoken. Whoever it was stayed stubbornly in the shadows of the tree.

From the distance Jill noted that he had the physique of an athlete. She happened to appreciate wide, powerful shoulders on a man. She stepped closer, attempting to get a better look at him without being obvious. Although his features remained hidden, his chin was tilted at a confident angle.

She’d always found confidence an appealing trait in a man….

“I wondered if you were planning to go swimming at night. Only a fool would do that.”

Jill bristled. She had no intention of swimming. For one thing, she wasn’t dressed for it. Before she could defend
herself, however, he continued, “You look like one of those helpless romantics who can’t resist testing the water. Let me guess—this is your first visit to the islands?”

Jill nodded. She’d ventured far enough onto the beach to actually see him now. Her heart sank—no wonder he’d seemed familiar. No wonder he was insulting. For the second time in a twenty-four-hour period she’d happened upon the grouch.

“I don’t suppose you took time to eat dinner, either.”

“I…had something earlier. On the plane.” That had been one of the benefits of her unexpected move to first class.

“I was there, remember?” He snickered softly. “Plastic food.”

Jill didn’t agree—she’d enjoyed it—but she wasn’t going to argue. “I don’t know what concern it is of yours,” she said.

“None,” he admitted, shrugging.

“Then my going without dinner shouldn’t bother you.” She bristled again at the intense way he was studying her. His mouth had twisted into a faint smile, and he seemed amused by her.

“Thank you for your advice,” she said stiffly, turning away from him and heading back toward the water.

“You’re not wearing your lei.”

Jill’s fingers automatically went to her neck as she stopped. She’d left it in her room when she changed clothes.

“Allow me.” He stepped forward, removed the one
from his own neck and draped it around hers. Since this was her first visit to the islands, Jill didn’t know if giving someone a lei had any symbolism attached to it. She didn’t really want that kind of connection with him. Just in case.

“Thank you.” She hoped she sounded adequately grateful.

“I might have saved your life, you know.”

That was a ridiculous comment. “How?”

“You could’ve drowned.”

Jill couldn’t help it. She laughed. “Not very likely. I had no intention of swimming.”

“You can’t trust the tides here. Even this close to shore, the waves are capable of jerking your feet right out from under you. You might easily have been swept out to sea.”

“That’s absurd.”

“Perhaps,” he agreed, amicably enough. “But I was hoping you’d realize you’re in my debt.”

Ah, now they were getting somewhere. This man wasn’t given to generosity. She’d bet a month’s wages that he’d initiated the conversation for his own purposes. He’d had plenty of time on their flight from Seattle to advise her about swimming.

No, he was after something.

“What is it you want?” she asked bluntly.

He grinned that cocky, unused smile of his and nodded. Apparently this was high praise of her finely honed intuitive skills.

“Nothing much. I was hoping you’d attend a small business dinner with me.”

“Tonight?”

He nodded again. “You did mention you hadn’t eaten.”

“Yes, but…”

“It’ll only take an hour or so of your time.” He sounded impatient, as if he’d expected her to agree to his scheme without question.

“I don’t even know who you are. Why would I want to attend a dinner party with you? I’m Jill Morrison, by the way.”

“Jordan Wilcox,” he said abruptly. “All right, if you must know, I need a woman to come with me so I won’t be forced to offend someone I can’t afford to alienate.”

“Then don’t.”

“He’s not the one I’m worried about. It’s his daughter. She’s apparently set her sights on me and doesn’t seem capable of taking a hint.”

“Well, then, it sounds as though you’ve got yourself a problem.” Privately Jill wondered at the woman’s taste.

He frowned, shoving his hands into the pockets of his dinner jacket. He’d changed clothes, too, but he hadn’t substituted something more casual for his business suit. Quite the reverse. But then, that shouldn’t have surprised her. It was always business, never pleasure, with people like him.

“I don’t know what it is about you women,” he said plaintively. “Can’t you tell when a man’s not interested?”

“Not always.” Jill was beginning to feel a bit smug.
She swung her shoes at her side. “In other words, you need me as a bodyguard.”

Clearly he didn’t approve of her terminology, but he let it pass. “Something like that.”

“Do I have to pretend to be madly in love with you?”

“Good heavens, no.”

Jill hesitated. “I’m not sure I brought anything appropriate to wear.”

He reached inside his pocket and pulled out a thick wad of cash. He peeled away several hundred-dollar bills and stuffed them in her hand. “Buy yourself something. The shop in the hotel’s still open.”

“I
’ll pay for the dress myself,” Jill insisted for the tenth time. She couldn’t believe she’d agreed to attend this dinner party with Jordan Wilcox. Not only didn’t she know the man, she didn’t even like him.

“I’ll pay for the dress,” he said, also for the tenth time. “It’s the least I can do.”

They were in the ultraexpensive dress shop located off the hotel lobby. Jill was shifting judiciously through the rack of evening gowns. Most were outrageously overpriced. She found a simple one she thought might flatter her petite build, ran her hand down the sleeve until she reached the white tag, then sighed. The price was higher than any of the others. Grumbling under her breath, she dropped the sleeve and continued her search.

Jordan glanced impatiently at his watch. “What’s wrong with this one?” He held up an elegant cocktail dress. It was made of dark green silk, with a draped
bodice and a slim skirt. Lovely indeed, but hardly worth a week’s salary.

“Nothing’s wrong with it,” she answered absently as she flipped through the row of dresses.

“Then buy it.”

Jill glared at him. “I can’t afford eight hundred dollars for a dress I’ll probably wear once.”

“I can,” he returned from between clenched teeth.

“I
won’t
allow you to pay for my dress.”

“The party’s in thirty minutes,” he reminded her sharply.

“All right, all right.”

He sighed with relief and put out a hand for the dress. Jill stopped him.

“Obviously nothing here is going to work. I’ll check what I brought with me. Maybe what I have is more suitable than I thought.”

Groaning, he followed her to the elevator. “Wait in the hall,” she said as she unlocked her door. She wasn’t about to let a strange man into her room. She stood by the closet and rooted through the few dresses she’d unpacked that afternoon. The only suitable one was an antique-white sleeveless dress with large gold buttons down the front. It wasn’t exactly what one would wear to an elegant dinner party, but it was passable.

She raced to the door and held it up for Jordan. “Will this do?”

The poor man looked exasperated. “How do I know?”

Leaving the door open, Jill ran back to her closet.
“The only other dress I have is Aunt Milly’s wedding gown,” she muttered.

“You packed a wedding dress?” His gray eyes lit up with amusement. It seemed an effort not to laugh out loud. “You apparently have high hopes for this vacation.”

“I didn’t bring it with me,” she informed him primly, sorry she’d even mentioned it. “A friend had it delivered.”

“You’re getting married?”

“No. I—Oh, I don’t have time to explain.”

Jordan eyed her as if he had plenty of questions, but wasn’t sure he wanted to ask them.

“Wear the one you showed me, then,” he said testily. “I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

“All right, I will.” By now Jill regretted agreeing to attend the dinner party. “I’ll be ready in five minutes.” She closed the door again, but not before she got a glimpse of the surprised look on Jordan’s face. It wasn’t until she’d slipped out of her sundress that she realized he probably wasn’t accustomed to women who left him waiting in the hallway while they changed clothes.

Although she knew Jordan was impatient, Jill took an extra few minutes to freshen her makeup and run a brush through her shoulder-length brown hair. Using a gold clip, she pinned it up in a simple chignon. Despite herself, she couldn’t help feeling excited about this small adventure. There was no telling whom she might meet tonight.

Drawing in a deep breath to calm herself, she
smoothed the skirt of her dress, then walked slowly to the door. Jordan was waiting for her, his back against the opposite wall. He straightened when she appeared.

“Do I look okay?”

His gaze narrowed assessingly. His scrutiny made Jill uncomfortable, and she held herself stiffly. At last he nodded.

“You look fine,” was all he said.

Jill heaved a sigh of relief, returned to her room to retrieve her purse and then joined Jordan.

The dinner party, as he’d explained earlier, was in a private room in one of the hotel’s restaurants. Jordan led the way to the elevator, his pace urgent.

“You’d better tell me what you want me to do,” she said.

“Do?” he repeated with a frown. “Just do whatever you women do to let one another know a certain man is off-limits, and make sure Suzi understands.” He hesitated. “Only do it without fawning all over me.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Jill said, gazing up at him in mock adoration and fluttering her lashes.

Jordan’s frown deepened. “None of that, either.”

“Of what?”

“That thing with the eyes.” He motioned with his hand, looking annoyed.

“Should I know something about who’s attending the party?”

“Not really,” he said impatiently.

“What about you?” He shot her a puzzled look, and Jill elaborated. “If I’m your date, it makes sense I’d
know who you are—something beyond your name, I mean—and what you do.”

“I suppose it does.” He buried his hands in his pockets. “I’m the CEO for a large development company based in Seattle. Simply put, we develop projects, gather together the financing, arrange for the construction, and then once the project’s completed, we sell.”

“That sounds interesting.” If you thrived on tension and pressure, that is.

“It can be,” was his only response. He looked her over once more, but his glance revealed neither approval nor reproach.

“I didn’t like you when we first met.” Jill wasn’t sure why she felt obliged to tell him this. In fact, she still didn’t like him, although she had to admit he was a very attractive man indeed. “When I sat next to you during the flight, I thought you were very unfriendly,” she continued.

“I take it your opinion of me hasn’t changed?” He cocked one brow with the question, as if to suggest her answer wouldn’t trouble him one way or the other.

Jill ignored him. “You don’t like women very much, do you?”

“They have their uses.”

He said it in such a belittling, negative way that Jill felt a flash of hot color invade her cheeks. She turned to look at him, feeling almost sorry for a man who had everything yet seemed so empty inside. “What’s made you so cynical?”

He glanced at her again, a bit scornfully. “Life.”

Jill didn’t know what to make of that response, but luckily the elevator arrived just then.

“Is there anything else I should know before we get there?” she asked once they were inside. Her role, Jill understood, was to protect him from an associate’s daughter. She had no idea how she was supposed to manage that, but she’d think of something when the time came.

“Nothing important.” He paused, frowning. “I’m afraid the two of us might arouse some curiosity, though.”

“Why’s that?”

“I don’t generally associate with…innocents.”

“Innocents?”
He made her sound like one of the preschool crowd. No one she’d ever known could insult her with less effort. “I am over twenty-one, in case you didn’t realize it.”

He laughed outright at that, and Jill stiffened, regretting—probably not for the last time—that she’d actually agreed to this.

“I think you’re wonderful, too,” she said sarcastically.

“So you told me before.”

The elevator arrived at the top floor of the hotel, where the restaurant was located. Jordan spoke briefly to the maître d’, who led them to the dinner party.

Jill glanced around the simple, elegant room, and her heart did a tiny somersault. All the guests were executive types, the men in dark suits, the women in sophisticated dresses that could all have been bought at the
little boutique downstairs. Everyone had an aura of prosperity and power.

Jill’s breath came in shallow gasps. She was miles out of her league. These people had money, real money, whereas she’d spent months just saving for this vacation. Her money was invested in panty hose and frozen dinners, not property and office towers and massive stock portfolios.

Jordan must have felt her unease, because he turned to her and smiled briefly. “You’ll be fine.”

It astonished Jill that three little words from him could give her an immeasurable boost of confidence. She smiled and drew herself up as tall as her five-foot-three-inch frame would allow.

Waiters carried trays of delicate hors d’oeuvres and narrow etched-glass flutes filled with sparkling, golden champagne. Jill reached for a glass and took her first sip, widening her eyes in surprise. Never had she tasted anything better.

“This is excellent.”

“It should be, at three hundred dollars a bottle.”

Before Jill could comment, an older, distinguished-looking gentleman detached himself from a younger colleague and made his way across the room toward them. He looked close to sixty, but could have stepped off the pages of
Gentlemen’s Quarterly
.

“Jordan,” he said in a hearty voice, extending his hand, “I’m delighted you could make it.”

“I am, too.”

“I trust your flight was uneventful.”

Jordan’s gaze briefly met Jill’s. “It was fine. I’d like you to meet Jill Morrison. Jill, Dean Lundquist.”

“Hello,” she said pleasantly, giving him her hand.

“Delighted,” Dean said again, turning to smile at her. He held her hand considerably longer than good manners required. Jill had the impression she was being carefully inspected and did her utmost to appear composed.

Finally, he released her and nodded toward the entrance. “If you’ll both excuse me for a moment, Nicholson’s just arrived.”

“Of course,” Jordan agreed politely.

Jill waited until Dean Lundquist was out of earshot. Then she leaned toward Jordan and whispered, “Suzi’s dad?”

Jordan made a wry face. “Smart girl.”

Not really, since few other men would have had cause to inspect her so closely, but Jill didn’t discount the compliment. She wasn’t likely to receive that many, at least not from Jordan.

“Who was that standing with him?” She inclined her head in the direction of a tall, good-looking young man. Something about him didn’t seem quite right. Nothing she could put her finger on, but it was a feeling she couldn’t shake.

“That’s Dean, Junior,” Jordan explained.

Jill noticed the way Jordan’s mouth thinned and the thoughtful, preoccupied look that came into his eyes. “He’s being groomed by Daddy to take my place.”

“Junior?” Jill studied the younger man a second time. “I don’t think you’ll have much of a problem.”

“Why’s that?”

She shrugged, not sure why she felt so confident of that. “I can’t picture you losing at anything.”

His gaze swept her warmly. “I have no intention of giving Junior the opportunity, but I’m going to have a real fight on my hands soon.”

“Just a minute,” Jill said. “If Suzi is Dean Senior’s daughter, then wouldn’t a marriage between you two secure your position?” It wouldn’t exactly be a love match, but she couldn’t envision Jordan marrying for something as commonplace as love.

Jordan gave her a quick, unreadable look. “It’d help, but unfortunately I’m not the marrying kind.”

Jill had guessed as much. She doubted there was time in his busy schedule for love or commitment, just for work, work, work. Complete one project and start another. She knew the pattern.

Jill couldn’t imagine falling in love with someone like Jordan. And she couldn’t picture Jordan in love at all. As he’d said, he wasn’t the marrying kind.

“Jordan.” A woman’s shrill voice sent a chill up Jill’s spine as a beautiful blonde hurried past her and straight into Jordan’s unsuspecting arms, locking him in a tight embrace.

“This must be Suzi,” Jill said conversationally from behind the woman who was squeezing Jordan for all she was worth.

Jordan’s irate eyes found hers. “Do something!” he mouthed.

Jill was enjoying the scene far too much to interrupt Suzi’s passionate greeting. While Jordan was occupied, Jill took an hors d’oeuvre from a nearby silver platter. Whatever it was tasted divine, and she automatically reached for two more. She hadn’t recognized how hungry she was. Not until she was on her third cracker did she realize she was sampling caviar.

“Oh, darling, I didn’t think you’d ever get here,” Suzi said breathlessly. Her pretty blue eyes filled with something close to hero worship as she gazed up at Jordan. “Whatever took you so long? Didn’t you know I’d been waiting hours and hours for you?”

“Suzi,” Jordan said stiffly, disentangling himself from the blonde’s embrace. He straightened the cuffs of his shirt. “I’d like you to meet Jill Morrison, my date. Jill, this is Suzi Lundquist.”

“Hello,” Jill said before helping herself to yet another cracker. Jordan’s look told her this was not the time to discover a taste for Russian caviar.

Suzi’s big blue eyes widened incredulously. She really was lovely, but one glimpse and Jill understood Jordan’s reluctance. Suzi was very young, early twenties at most, and terribly vulnerable. She had to admire his tactic of putting the girl off without being unnecessarily rude.

Jordan had made Dean Lundquist’s daughter sound like a vamp. Jill disagreed. Suzi might be a vamp-in-
training, but right now she was only young and headstrong.

“You’re Jordan’s date?” Suzi asked, fluttering her incredible lashes—which were almost long enough to cause a draft, Jill decided.

She smiled and nodded. “We’re very good friends, aren’t we, Jordan?” She slipped her arm in his and looked up at him, ever so sweetly.

“But I thought—I hoped…” Suzi turned to Jordan, who’d edged himself closer to Jill, draping his arm across her shoulders as though they’d been an item for quite some time.

“Yes?”

Suzi glanced from Jordan to Jill and then back to Jordan. Tears brimmed in her bright blue eyes. “I thought there was something special between us….”

“I’m sorry, Suzi,” he said gently.

“But Daddy seemed to think…” She left the rest unsaid as she slowly backed away. After three short steps, she turned and dashed out of the room. Jill popped another cracker in her mouth.