softly on her shoulders. She was misting Norell around her head when she heard the knock on the door. Hastily she grabbed her gray suede coat and the purse that matched her boots and went downstairs.
The door rattled slightly as she pulled it open. “Hello, darling. I was just telling Reeves that I wish I could persuade you to come live with me in the château and give up this dismal little shop and apartment.” Helmut kissed her on the cheek and took both her hands in his, making note that she wore his ring. “Alas, Reeves, she’s a morally stubborn woman. She refuses to engage in such goings on until after we are married.”
Despite her determination to remain aloof, Jordan flushed hotly. It was true that Helmut had argued with her over her scruples against living with him until they were married. She had claimed that her need for independence was the reason. The fact was that she was in no hurry to sleep with Helmut. She had enjoyed his tender, passionate embraces, but they hadn’t made her heart sing. Not like …
She swiftly looked at Reeves and saw his eyebrows cocked in incredulity. Think what you want, she longed to fling at him. It’s true. I haven’t slept with Helmut.
She had always imagined that Helmut would make love with the same economy of words and deeds with which he transacted a business deal. He would get straight to the point, waste no unnecessary time. It wouldn’t be lingering and leisurely. He wouldn’t stroke, and caress, and kiss, and tease just as much afterward as before. He wouldn’t …
She pulled herself upright and said calmly, “Hello, Helmut.” Rising on tiptoes, she kissed him softly on the mouth. Then, with a triumphant look, she turned to Reeves. “Good evening, Mr. Grant.”
He stepped forward and took her hand. Helmut couldn’t know, unless he read the shocked expression on Jordan’s face, that Reeves’s thumb was stroking her palm. “Under the circumstances, I think you should call me by my first name, don’t you, Jordan?”
CHAPTER 4
H is words stunned her speechless and she could only stare, marveling at his daring. Then she realized that only he and she were cognizant of the “circumstances” to which he was referring.
To confirm her deduction, Helmut said heartily, “He’s right, Jordan. Reeves will be with us constantly, for the next several days. Indeed, he may want to photograph you alone. By all means, let’s be on a first-name basis.”
She couldn’t meet Reeves’s mocking grin.
Helmut draped her coat around her shoulders, for even this early in the season the nights could be quite cold. They strolled through the alleyways until they reached a thoroughfare where Helmut’s chauffeur was waiting with the silver Mercedes limousine.
Jordan found herself ensconced between the two men on the black velour seat. Though Helmut held her hand as it rested on his thigh, it was the other man she was painfully aware of.
Reeves was wearing jeans again, but this pair was creased and starched. A caramel-colored Cardin sport coat over a beige shirt molded to the breadth of his chest and shoulders. He had on highly polished cowboy boots. Perversely, he didn’t look out of place, for jeans and Western boots were almost a uniform all over Europe these days for men and women alike.
When he leaned across her to speak to Helmut, she caught the brisk, clean-smelling fragrance of his shaving soap and cologne. It was pungent and potent, but not cloying, perfect for the man who was wearing it.
While the two men discussed some facet of Helmut’s enterprises that Reeves found interesting, Jordan remained quiet and listened only to the inflection of Reeves’s voice. He spoke with conviction and intelligence. Somehow her right shoulder had become sheltered beneath his left one, where it felt warmly secure. When he brought his arm back after making a gesture with his left hand, it skated across her breast.
Holding her breath, she slid her eyes toward him and met a
The door rattled slightly as she pulled it open. “Hello, darling. I was just telling Reeves that I wish I could persuade you to come live with me in the château and give up this dismal little shop and apartment.” Helmut kissed her on the cheek and took both her hands in his, making note that she wore his ring. “Alas, Reeves, she’s a morally stubborn woman. She refuses to engage in such goings on until after we are married.”
Despite her determination to remain aloof, Jordan flushed hotly. It was true that Helmut had argued with her over her scruples against living with him until they were married. She had claimed that her need for independence was the reason. The fact was that she was in no hurry to sleep with Helmut. She had enjoyed his tender, passionate embraces, but they hadn’t made her heart sing. Not like …
She swiftly looked at Reeves and saw his eyebrows cocked in incredulity. Think what you want, she longed to fling at him. It’s true. I haven’t slept with Helmut.
She had always imagined that Helmut would make love with the same economy of words and deeds with which he transacted a business deal. He would get straight to the point, waste no unnecessary time. It wouldn’t be lingering and leisurely. He wouldn’t stroke, and caress, and kiss, and tease just as much afterward as before. He wouldn’t …
She pulled herself upright and said calmly, “Hello, Helmut.” Rising on tiptoes, she kissed him softly on the mouth. Then, with a triumphant look, she turned to Reeves. “Good evening, Mr. Grant.”
He stepped forward and took her hand. Helmut couldn’t know, unless he read the shocked expression on Jordan’s face, that Reeves’s thumb was stroking her palm. “Under the circumstances, I think you should call me by my first name, don’t you, Jordan?”
CHAPTER 4
H is words stunned her speechless and she could only stare, marveling at his daring. Then she realized that only he and she were cognizant of the “circumstances” to which he was referring.
To confirm her deduction, Helmut said heartily, “He’s right, Jordan. Reeves will be with us constantly, for the next several days. Indeed, he may want to photograph you alone. By all means, let’s be on a first-name basis.”
She couldn’t meet Reeves’s mocking grin.
Helmut draped her coat around her shoulders, for even this early in the season the nights could be quite cold. They strolled through the alleyways until they reached a thoroughfare where Helmut’s chauffeur was waiting with the silver Mercedes limousine.
Jordan found herself ensconced between the two men on the black velour seat. Though Helmut held her hand as it rested on his thigh, it was the other man she was painfully aware of.
Reeves was wearing jeans again, but this pair was creased and starched. A caramel-colored Cardin sport coat over a beige shirt molded to the breadth of his chest and shoulders. He had on highly polished cowboy boots. Perversely, he didn’t look out of place, for jeans and Western boots were almost a uniform all over Europe these days for men and women alike.
When he leaned across her to speak to Helmut, she caught the brisk, clean-smelling fragrance of his shaving soap and cologne. It was pungent and potent, but not cloying, perfect for the man who was wearing it.
While the two men discussed some facet of Helmut’s enterprises that Reeves found interesting, Jordan remained quiet and listened only to the inflection of Reeves’s voice. He spoke with conviction and intelligence. Somehow her right shoulder had become sheltered beneath his left one, where it felt warmly secure. When he brought his arm back after making a gesture with his left hand, it skated across her breast.
Holding her breath, she slid her eyes toward him and met a