Wife in Public (7 page)

Ivy rolled her eyes and sagged back in her chair, feeling under attack again. ‘Haven’t I made my point, Jordan?’ she cried in exasperation.

‘No. Because it’s based on assumptions about me which I don’t think are fair,’ he argued.

They weren’t assumptions. His orders to the rose farm provided hard evidence of how he conducted his sexual affairs. However, she couldn’t lay that out to him without revealing how she had such inside knowledge and she didn’t want to give him any more information about herself. ‘You’re a notorious playboy,’ she said accusingly, folding her arms in defensive belligerence.

He grimaced. ‘Because of what I am, who I am, a lot of women throw themselves at me, Ivy. I wouldn’t be human if I didn’t find some of them attractive. Unlike you, they’re intent on making themselves attractive to me, but the effort wears thin after a while. Their real selves emerge.’ He shook his head as he ruefully added, ‘And it’s never what I want.’

‘What do you want?’ she asked, privately conceding what he said could be true. A handsome billionaire would be a target for most women.

The blue eyes burned into hers. ‘Honesty,’ he said, which he’d previously told her was the rarest commodity in his world.

Maybe it was. The more Ivy thought about it, the more she could see this could be a real downside in being obscenely wealthy…people cosying up to him for what they could get out of being close to big money. She didn’t need what he had. Being happy in her own
world, she didn’t covet his kind of life at all. The only thing missing for her was…a loving husband, family, a shared future.

She couldn’t see Jordan Powell in that picture.

Though she certainly wouldn’t mind sharing her bed with him.

No denying that.

Her entire body was humming with tempting memories and sympathy for his situation with other women was sneaking into her heart, undermining her resistance to the strong attraction of the man.

‘Well, I want honesty, too, Jordan,’ she said, struggling to maintain a defensive line. ‘Why don’t you admit I was nothing more than an amusing challenge to you on the night of my mother’s exhibition? Someone different to play with. And you simply didn’t like it when I finished the game before you did.’

‘Not a game, Ivy.’ He shook his head over her choice of words. His mouth quirked ironically. ‘A game doesn’t spin out of control as that night did.’

The trunk of the car…the front steps of his house…her vaginal muscles contracted sharply at the pointed recollection of control being totally lost.

‘That has never happened to me before,’ he added quietly. ‘Which does make you different, Ivy. Not in an amusing sense. In a very unique sense. And you’ve just told me it was extraordinary for you, too. So I don’t think we should walk away from it. I think it’s something we should explore a lot further. Together. With honesty. No game-playing.’

There was no trace of glib charm in his voice, no seductive twinkle in the blue eyes boring into hers. He looked completely serious, sincere, emitting a force
ful energy that silently attacked and demolished any argument against what he was proposing.

Ivy suddenly found herself thinking of her parents. They’d led separate lives for as long as she could remember, but they’d never divorced and had always shared a bedroom when they’d spent weekends together. They’d each pursued their own interests, respecting the needs that drove them to take different paths while still maintaining an affectionate bond.

It wasn’t what she wanted for herself.

But what if there was nothing better?

Never would be anything better.

She stared at Jordan Powell and knew she wanted more of him. Whatever that meant…wherever it led…she did want to explore how much they could have together.

J
ORDAN
concentrated fiercely on willing Ivy to agree. The idea that she had been playing a power game with him had been whittled away by the sheer length of time it had taken her to respond to his message. Her attitude today—everything about her—indicated that inspiring a chase had not been the intent behind absenting herself from his life. She was fighting the attraction between them with all her willpower.

Or was all this a clever act, designed to draw him more firmly into her female net?

She
had
turned up.

And was forcing him to argue for a chance with her.

Throw out the challenge…hook the man like he’d never been hooked before!

Her fascinating green eyes had savaged him, mocked him, transmitted hard unyielding judgement, but now they were strangely blank, focussed inward, giving no sign of what she was thinking.

He couldn’t deny his many affairs—most of them very short-lived. Ivy had plenty of reason to believe she would be no more than a brief addition to the long list. It could actually turn out that way. He wasn’t about to promise it wouldn’t. How could he know, at this stage,
how long the attraction would last, whether familiarity would eventually breed contempt, as it so often had with other women?

All he knew was his gut was in knots, waiting for her reply. And that hadn’t happened before. None of it had…sensing her presence before he even saw her, the mule-kick to his heart when his instincts had proved correct, the intense flare of desire which owed nothing to her outward appearance which was obviously meant to express lack of interest in him.

He
was
hooked.

But that didn’t mean he was caught.

The instant zing between them told him she wasn’t immune to what they had shared. He had to tap into that again, make her want what he wanted. Regardless of what was going on in her mind, Jordan was determined on drawing her into
his
net. Even more so now that she was here with him.

‘Would you like a cup of coffee while you think about it?’ he asked, intent on forcing her into active communication.

The blank shield on her eyes snapped open to reveal deep wells of vulnerability—a host of fears swirling through wishful possibilities. ‘Yes,’ she said huskily, sucking in a quick breath to firm up her voice. ‘Cappucino, please.’

He signalled a waitress, ordered two coffees and a plate of toasted sandwiches to tempt Ivy into eating. There was nothing like sharing food to put people more at ease with their company, and it seemed—from the wildly swimming look in her eyes—that Ivy was wound up in an emotional dilemma about becoming more involved with him.

Unless she was a brilliant actress.

He was reminded of what Margaret had said…
I wouldn’t like it if you hunted her down and hurt her.

He had hunted her, with good reason, Jordan told himself. Nevertheless, being hurt by him could be high on the list of fears in Ivy’s mind. A playboy…

To him it was a pragmatic lifestyle, given his circumstances. He was quite happy going along for a ride, hated the idea of being taken for one. He was beginning to think this was a different situation with Ivy, more a journey of discovery than the usual ride.

Her lashes had swept down, hiding her thoughts again. He leaned forward, pressing for her attention. ‘Ivy, you’re not a trophy woman to me.’

The green eyes flashed wildly amused sparks at him as she burst into a peal of laughter. ‘Anyone seeing us together today would think you had rocks in your head to consider me one, Jordan.’

He relaxed into a laugh himself. ‘Which proves my point. I want your company, regardless of trappings.’

‘Mmmh…’ She cocked her head consideringly. ‘I’d have to say I enjoyed your company, too. Though I’m not sure how well that would wear over time. I don’t think we have much in common.’

Oh, yes they did! Fantastic sex together. Unforgettably fantastic!

Maybe she read that thought in his eyes. A tide of heat whooshed up her neck and burned her cheeks. She wriggled in her chair, probably discomforted by an attack of hormones charged-up with the same memories he had. He had to shift a bit himself to accommodate his own charged up anatomy. If they weren’t in a public place…but the sex hadn’t kept her with him last time. He had to make more inroads into her psyche.

He tried a disarming smile. ‘I like it that you don’t see
me
as a trophy.’

That was a good, testing line.

She shot it down in flames, instantly firing derision at it. ‘Too tarnished by a lot of careless wear.’

‘I care about you,’ he shot back at her, throwing all cynical caution aside. ‘We have something special going between us. Too special to dismiss. I’ve never waited for a woman as I’ve waited for you. And don’t tell me you don’t feel it, too, because you do, Ivy. This is
us
and it’s not like anything in the past. Face it. Give it a chance. It might be the best thing either of us could ever have.’

A chance…

Yes.

Ivy’s whole body yearned to feel again the pleasure he could give her and the intensity he was transmitting made his arguments too persuasive for her to fight any further. It
had
been special. Unique for her as well as him. Of course there was no guarantee it would last but what guarantee could be attached to any relationship these days?

‘How do you see it working?’ she blurted out.

He leaned forward eagerly. ‘We could start with week ends. This weekend.’

Her heart instantly kicked into a gallop. She hadn’t come ready for this. ‘I didn’t bring anything with me. And I’m still not on the pill.’

‘You don’t need anything. I don’t want to share you with anyone. Not today or tomorrow. And I’ll take care of protection while you’re arranging your own.’

Panic seized her. This decision felt too rushed. ‘You forgot last time.’

‘I promise you, I won’t forget again.’

No, he wouldn’t, not after being worried about getting her pregnant. Having a child with her was not on his agenda. It might never be. She had to think of this as a trial period and not get too…too…stuck on him. He’d been a playboy for so long, it was best if she didn’t let herself believe their affair might turn out any different to his previous relationships. All she was committing herself to was giving it a chance.

She eyed him with fierce intensity. ‘Don’t send me any roses. Ever!’

‘Sending them to your mother did bring us back together. It got the right result, Ivy,’ he reminded her seriously.

‘I don’t mean
them!
’ she said in emphatic dismissal. ‘I mean the roses you send as a matter of rote to all the women who have held your interest for a while.’

He frowned, puzzled by her knowledge of intimate details of his past affairs.

Ivy gritted her teeth and revealed the truth. ‘You order them from me, Jordan. It’s my rose farm you deal with over the Internet. From this moment on, I’m writing you off as a client. When it’s over with me and you find someone else, find yourself another rose source. Okay?’

He looked totally gobsmacked.

Ivy didn’t care. Involving herself with Jordan meant there was no way of continuing to hide her business and she simply couldn’t bear the idea of him resuming his Rose Valentino modus operandi with other women in the future. Not through her farm anyway.

The waitress arrived at their table with their coffees and the plate of toasted sandwiches. Ivy was too churned up to eat anything but she was grateful for the coffee. It was hot and sweet and strong and her shredded nerves
needed soothing. She sipped it, covertly watching Jordan gradually recover from his shock and wondering how he would react to her revelation.

It was actually a good test of his feelings towards her. He wanted honesty. She’d just laid it out to him. He didn’t reach for a sandwich or his coffee. He sat completely still, eyes lowered, a pensive expression on his face, probably reflecting on how much business he’d done with her farm over the years.

‘I see,’ he finally murmured, an ironic tilt to his perfectly sculptured mouth. Twin blue laser beams targeted Ivy’s eyes. ‘I now understand how sceptical you must have been over my intentions and how reluctant you still are to get involved with me. But you’re here thinking about it, and I’m here fighting for a chance with you because we connected so strongly we’d always wonder what might have been if we didn’t pursue it. That’s the truth of it, isn’t it, Ivy? The honest truth.’

‘For me, yes,’ she answered, her own mouth quirking with irony as she added, ‘Where you’re concerned, it requires a leap of faith I’m not sure I can make.’

He nodded. ‘Make it. Take the risk. It’s worth a try.’ He flashed her a dazzling smile. ‘Remember how good it was. Think how good it can be again.’

She hoped it would be, because the decision was already made. The buzz of anticipation was in her blood and she was no longer physically capable of backing away from this man.

He made a flip-flop gesture, unsure of where she was at. ‘You can always end it if I let you down.’

She smiled, her eyes mocking the off-hand offer. ‘I don’t think you’re too good at accepting an end you don’t want, Jordan. My mother can testify to that.’

‘But I hadn’t let you down, Ivy,’ he reminded her. ‘You just assumed I would. Let’s be fair now.’

She laughed, giddy with the sense of taking an even more dangerous step with this man. ‘Okay. I promise I’ll be fair.’

One black eyebrow arched in appeal. ‘No harking back to my past?’

‘I’ll take you as I find you until you do let me down.’

‘Done!’ His hand smacked down on the table in triumphant satisfaction as he rose from his chair, emitting an electric energy that sent Ivy’s pulse zooming into overdrive. ‘Take me to wherever you’ve parked your car,’ he commanded, his eyes blazing with the desire to move her with him to a far less public place.

The car…images of wild sex bloomed in Ivy’s mind, flustering her into a hot flush. She waved at the plate of sandwiches in a rush of agitation. ‘What about this?’

‘Not what I’m hungry for. Are you?’

‘No.’ Impossible to eat anything with lustful thoughts running riot and there was no point in delaying what she’d decided to do. ‘You haven’t paid,’ she said, trying to sound in some control of herself as she pushed up from her chair.

He took out his wallet, removed a fifty-dollar note, anchored it on the table under the sugar bowl, then reached for her hand. She gave it to him, consciously feeling every sensation of his touch: the power of the fingers entwining hers, the tingling pleasure from the rub of his flesh, the seductive caress of his thumb. Why he, of all men, could evoke this acute sexual excitement in her, she didn’t know, but strangely enough it was a relief to simply surrender to it.

‘The elevator,’ she directed. ‘Level two of the basement car park.’

They walked together, moving like an arrow of purpose that could not be diverted. The crowd of shoppers milled around them, no one blocking their path even minimally. Ivy was barely aware of other people. The connection to the man beside her virtually obliterated everything else.

Worries wormed their way through her mind. Had she given in too easily? Was she a fool for giving in at all? Were there other things she could have said, should have said before letting him lead her back into his life? Was there any real possibility of a relationship with Jordan developing into something solid?

Yet…did any of that matter when he could make her feel like this?

They reached the elevator just as its doors opened. A family—mother, father, child in a pram—stepped out, an ordinary family, what Ivy had hoped to have herself. Nothing with Jordan was going to be ordinary. Was she totally mad to involve herself with him?

They moved into the elevator. No one followed them. Jordan pressed the button for L2. The doors closed. They were alone together in the small compartment. Jordan erupted into action, scooping her into his embrace, kissing her with a hunger that found an instant, overwhelming response. Weeks—a whole month of repression burst under a wild surge of need to taste him again, feel him again, have him stoke the excitement that made everything else irrelevant.

Their mouths meshed in feverish passion. Their hands seized, travelled, pressed, dragged, dug in, feeding the fierce desire to take possession. They were so immersed
in each other, they didn’t notice the elevator coming to a halt, its doors sliding open.

‘Sorry to interrupt you guys, but…’

The voice brought them back to earth with a heart-thumping shock.

‘Right,’ Jordan muttered, and swept Ivy past the amused onlooker into the cavernous car park.

Her legs were wobbly. She tried to catch a breath, get her wits in order, orientate herself enough to find her car. ‘Where’s yours?’ she asked.

‘My what?’

He looked as distracted as she felt. ‘Your car.’

He shook his head. ‘Didn’t bring one. Had Ray drop me off.’

‘Who’s Ray?’

He stopped, sucked in a deep breath, obviously regathering himself as he turned to face her, lightly grasping her upper arms, the blue eyes boring into hers, his voice gruff with emotion. ‘Are you okay, Ivy? You’re not about to do another runner on me?’

‘No.’ Tearing herself away from him now was unthinkable. She wanted him too much. When or if he let her down…somehow she would deal with the fallout. Until then…she summoned up a shaky smile. ‘Though let’s not lose our heads again. At least, not here.’

His smile poured out relief and reassurance. ‘I can wait a bit longer. And to answer your question, Ray is my handyman and he’ll drive in to pick me up at two o’clock if not instructed otherwise. We can be home before he leaves if we go in your car.’

‘Okay.’ She opened her shoulder-bag to get out the keys. ‘It’s probably better if you drive. You’re more familiar with the route to Balmoral.’ Besides which, it was doubtful she could concentrate on the road.

He released her arms to take the keys, dryly commenting, ‘It will make it easier to keep my hands off you.’

She laughed, giddily light-hearted with the tense burden of decision lifted. A quick glance around located her car and she hooked her arm around his to haul him in the right direction. ‘This way. And we both need to exercise some care, Jordan.’