Marriage in Name Only

Chapter FIVE


WHILE HE STIRRED the froth on his coffee, Jordan watched the girl who’d agreed to help for any sign of how she was feeling. No visible emotion. She was scrolling through her phone options as if he didn’t exist. Checking her account balance? International flight schedules to Ibiza or Acapulco? She hadn’t so much as glanced at him since she’d signed the documents.

A fleeting self-doubt wrapped around his gut. What was stopping her from doing a moonlight flit with his money tonight? He’d learned not to trust so easily a long time ago, especially where women were concerned; they could literally take off at a moment’s notice. And the enormity of this gamble was taking on the proportions of the Hindenburg, with the same potential for disaster.

For God’s sake, stop second-guessing yourself. He might have just met her but he knew Chloe was no Lynette.

All that aside, he needed to get them both to Dubai ASAP. He also wanted to keep her with him 24/7 until the deal was done, but he knew that wasn’t likely. And he didn’t want to spook her by being too full-on and risk the deal going wrong.

On the other hand, she’d told him money wasn’t a motivator, and, from the expression in her eyes when she’d said it, he believed her. He’d seen firsthand that she was the sort who was willing to step in and help out in a pinch—for her employer and her family … and Jordan too.

Trust issues aside, it was blatantly obvious she was as attracted to him as he was her and he was hoping they might mix a little pleasure with their business. There was nothing in the agreement to prevent that, provided both parties were willing. He reached for his own mobile. ‘We should get some details out of the way tonight.’

‘Hmm …’

‘Do you have any commitments over the next few weeks?’

She finally looked up from her phone. ‘Dana’s just given me full-time work, so, yes, I do.’

‘Apart from that.’ He sent Roma, his PA in Perth, an email confirming his schedule. ‘Can you be ready to leave tomorrow?’

It didn’t sound like a question and she blinked. ‘You’re kidding, right? I just told you, I’ve got a new job. I’m trying to be responsible.’

‘That’s very commendable, but I’m paying you to be responsible with me. Our business has priority over everything else. That includes your social life, by the way.’

She raised a brow. ‘It’s fortunate then that I have no upcoming social events on my personal calendar, isn’t it?’

He frowned. He didn’t know why he’d made that brusque demand. Except that he didn’t want anything or anyone interfering with his plans, which included having Chloe exclusively to himself for the next week or two. He was confident it wasn’t going to be all work and no play. ‘I’ll make sure Dana holds your position,’ he said more reasonably. ‘That’s if you still want it when we come back.’

‘Of course I’ll want it.’

Her quick and definite response surprised him. It wasn’t exactly a highly paid sought-after career move they were talking about.

‘I don’t have any paper qualifications so I’m limited in choices,’ she said, as if reading his thoughts. ‘I never studied.’

He caught a wistfulness in her tone. ‘You’d have liked to?’

‘Yeah. Maybe counselling.’ A wry smile tipped one corner of her mouth. ‘Even if it’s just to understand myself better. And you need to be settled in one place and I don’t know if I can after all this time. Staying power, perseverance and tenacity are not my strengths.’

‘But in a couple of weeks you’ll have the money to make it happen.’

‘Yes,’ she said, almost as if startled by the revelation. ‘I suppose I will. I’ve never had my own money—not money money. And this is like … wow.’

Her dreamy expression lingered as if she was already wishing herself far far away. Staying power wasn’t one of her strengths. ‘Very well, you’ve got tomorrow to get organised.’ While he finalised travel arrangements and his business plan with Qasim. He signalled the waiter for the bill.

‘Hang on …’ She cleared her phone’s screen. ‘We’re not going home already, surely? We don’t know nearly enough about each other yet. Or how to do this … thing …’

Exactly.

He nodded. ‘It could take a while.’ This thing needed careful consideration and exploration. ‘It could take all night.’ His voice suddenly sounded lower than his belt buckle—which was no surprise given where his thoughts were leading—and Chloe noticed too because she looked at him sharply, those whisky eyes splashed with awareness.

‘To make plans,’ he clarified, not taking his gaze off hers.

‘And get better acquainted,’ she agreed, staring back and shifting forward in her chair. A hint of inviting cleavage caught his attention as she rested her forearms on the table ready to begin.

He liked the prospect of getting better acquainted. A lot. He leaned closer so he could smell that scent of cinnamon, citrus and jasmine that was fast becoming one of his favourites. ‘We’ll be more comfortable at home. We could go to my apartment, but yours is closer. Is it okay if we go there?’

‘I only have a single bed …’ She gave a little hiccup and shook her head, looking dismayed. ‘Omigod. Did I say that aloud? That’s not what I meant.’ Pause while she blinked at him. ‘Is that what you meant? Not that I was thinking about bed—not in that way. Because this is a business arrangement. I get that. We need to talk. I need to pack. I probably won’t have time to sleep at all—’

‘Chloe.’ He kept his smile on the inside. ‘Take a deep breath.’

She stared at him another beat, then closed those panicked eyes and sucked in air deeply. Exhaled in one long slow stream.

He took the opportunity for a leisurely all-out perusal of her face and he couldn’t decide which he wanted to kiss more—her pulse doing star jumps at the base of her throat, or the scattering of freckles across her nose. After reacquainting himself with those plump, pouty lips, that was.

When she opened her eyes again, she seemed to have regained some composure, but she wasn’t looking at him, she was staring at the tablecloth. ‘I tend to go on when I’m stressed or excited or … plotting fake marriages.’ She blew out a strangled-sounding breath, dropped her phone into her purse. ‘Let’s just get out of here.’

What had she done?

Chloe chewed her lower lip as Jordan pulled up outside her place. Suggesting getting better acquainted in that smoky, siren’s voice she’d never heard coming out of her mouth before?

Then the bit about her single bed had literally popped out. She stifled a groan. Because he’d been talking about how it might take all night and being more comfortable and … and looking at her as if he wanted to devour her at the earliest opportunity, and her focus on the trip had got muddled up with a sexual fantasy and how was she going to keep things strictly business?

She’d never had a problem compartmentalising the men in her life. With one past regrettable exception, it was either business or pleasure—simple and uncomplicated. Her male acquaintances either fitted in one or the other.

Until Jordan.

He switched off the engine. Silence and anticipation thickened the air. Not hanging around to see if he’d try a squeeze or a kiss; she was already out and halfway up the path when she heard Jordan’s car door shut and the alarm’s meep. Her shoes tapped a staccato on the pavement, oddly loud and a tad desperate in the quiet suburban evening.

The scent of damp leaves and smoky log fires gave way to old wood and last night’s reheated tandoori chicken as she pushed open the front door—the front door she’d imagined them naked against. Her fingers clenched around her keys and, instead, she imagined telling him she’d changed her mind and shutting it in his face.

She tried telling herself good looks and sex appeal were nothing. Nothing. They didn’t influence Chloe Montgomery. Except Jordan was already on her doorstep, towering over her and making her swallow those lying, superficial and treacherous thoughts.

She realised she’d already partially closed the door on him. ‘Sorry,’ she murmured, motioning him in. ‘My mind’s everywhere tonight.’

‘I imagine it is,’ he said, stepping inside.

Up close, his sheer size in the cramped, dim foyer, lit only from the street lamp slanting through the glass door panels, accentuated their height difference. All her life she’d hated her lack of stature and accompanying feelings of insignificance. Yet somehow Jordan made her feel small and feminine and not insignificant in any way.

Not good if she was going to maintain her distance and keep things on a business level. She should have insisted on the safer option of conducting their conversation in its entirety at the restaurant. She’d been too quick to allow him to take control. ‘Another coffee?’ she asked, flicking on the passage light as she turned away and headed to the kitchen.

‘Yes, please. Chloe, wait up.’ A firm hand closed over her shoulder and he turned her to face him. ‘You’re not afraid of me, are you?’ Both hands were on her shoulders now, his thumbs drawing tight little circles.

‘Me? Afraid? Of you?’ She choked out a half-laugh.

‘Nervous as a kitten in a tiger’s cage since we signed the paperwork.’

There was a lot more truth to that image than she wanted to think about. Jordan radiated that big-cat power and dominance—she could feel it tingling through his fingers and deep along her collarbones, turning them and every other extremity to rubber.

And so help her, Chloe Montgomery, who refused to allow others to dictate her life, who strenuously avoided the type of testosterone-fuelled, take-charge man that was Jordan, wanted to surrender to all that male dominance. Craved more of his lips on hers—and wherever else he wanted to put them—again.

She stiffened her spine and took a deliberate step away, only to end up with her back against the wall. Had she learned nothing in the past couple of years? ‘It’s myself I’m nervous of—if that makes sense.’

‘Yeah. It does.’ The massage stopped and he trailed his hands lightly over her shoulders, down her arms and up again, his eyes staring into hers with a smile that matched his mouth. ‘You can’t keep your thoughts off us getting naked together either.’

A distressed sound bubbled up her throat and fiery heat exploded into her cheeks. Was it that obvious?

‘And how it’s going to be when I come deep inside you,’ he went on in a kind of murmur that swept up Chloe’s spine like a big tabby cat’s hot, wet tongue, making her shiver—in a dangerously delicious way. ‘But that’s not what we’re about, not what we’ve agreed on, and it bothers you.’

‘No, I … Yes …’ This whole one-sided, erotic conversation bothered her.

And the fact that somehow, without her noticing, he’d moved closer so that the front of his shirt was brushing against her bodice while her useless arms hung limp. Only her fingers curled and uncurled at her sides.

He toyed with the tips of her hair as if he’d never seen fair hair before. ‘Rest easy, Blondie, it’ll be you inviting me,’ he assured her, his deep voice resonating against her breasts and making her nipples tight and achy.

‘Me inviting you.’

A slow confident smile spread across his features. ‘You’re worried about how that’s going to work. Trust me, it’ll work just fine.’

Trust me, Chloe.

‘I am not worried because I intend to stay away from you as much as possible. And don’t call me Blondie.’

‘What will I call you, then? We should have pet names for each other, don’t you think?’

‘No. And there’s that clause in the agreement that states—’

‘We’re not talking coercion here, Blondie,’ he said smoothly. ‘And we both know it.’

Drawing herself up taller, she dared to meet his blue-eyed intensity, but only succeeded in bumping up against another bit that she was sure hadn’t been there a moment ago … and she froze, which was odd since she felt so, so hot. ‘It’s strictly business—you said so yourself.’ Her words were crisp, cool and PA efficient to counteract the heat emanating between their bodies. ‘You laid out the terms very clearly.’

‘That’s true.’ Leaning down, he traced the neckline of her dress with a finger. ‘Just because we have a business arrangement, doesn’t mean it has to be all work. We can still keep it professional—’ he removed his finger from the top of her dress and placed his palm flat on the wall beside her head ‘—but there’s no reason we can’t make it a bit of a holiday as well.’

She stared up at him, hair burnished teak by the suspended old-gold light in the foyer, not trusting herself to argue with his thought process. But a holiday fling? With one’s business partner? And keep it professional? Wasn’t going to happen.

She lifted her chin. ‘You said our arrangement had nothing to do with the fact that you were attracted to me.’

‘It doesn’t.’ He grinned, revealing even white teeth. ‘We’ll keep business and personal separate.’

‘So what’s this evening about, then? The now part of this evening.’

‘Getting better acquainted.’ His gaze slid to her lips. ‘Isn’t that what you said earlier?’

‘I … Yes.’ Didn’t have to mean anything sexual, right? Of course they needed to get to know each other better. She could feel her legs giving way, her back sliding down the wall. ‘But I don’t think kissing’s a good idea …’

‘Why not? We really need to practise if we’re to pull off the newlyweds charade.’

‘No PDA’s in Dubai, remember, so it’s really not necessary. Since we won’t be kissing in public. Or anywhere else …’

‘But it’ll give us that aura of implied intimacy. You know that look you see between two people that signals to the rest of the world that they’re lovers?’

Her head bobbed once. ‘Uh-huh …’ Just as she recognised the look he was giving her now signalled Danger: Intimacy Ahead.

‘Whisky eyes.’ His breath feathered over her lips as he looked at her, his cobalt eyes dark with desire. ‘I could get intoxicated just looking at them.’

‘Seductive words.’ And she refused to be seduced so easily. ‘So were you intoxicated the last time you kissed me?’

‘Stone-cold sober, as a matter of fact. And it was hardly a kiss.’

And she’d have agreed with him no matter how devastatingly intimate the kiss had seemed at the time, but before she could get a word out his mouth pounced on hers. Bold, predatory and without warning.

Reacting on instinct, her hands rushed up to push at his chest—to push him away—but her fingers had a mind of their own; they clutched at his jacket lapels and held on tight. Forget keeping her distance—how could she push him away when right now she wanted his mouth on hers more than air? Her eyes slid shut.

He deepened the kiss and she answered, her lips parting willingly beneath his demanding tongue. His taste was dark and rich, smooth and velvety—a moan rose up her throat—those after-dinner delights she’d been thinking of earlier and then some.

He dragged his hands down her sides, over her waist, the flare of her hips. Lower. Big hands spreading across her buttocks, tucking her in close, so that she could feel the hot, hard length of him.

Heat and sizzle and danger. It was like being swept up in a forest fire and her entire body was turning to flame. She might have tried again to stop him and to make some sense of … whatever this was, but her brain was frazzled from all the heat and the message wasn’t getting through to her limbs.

He lifted his lips a fraction. ‘Now that’s a kiss,’ he murmured. She felt his hands lift away from her body, coolness drifting in to take their place. She pried her heavy-lidded eyes open to see him staring down at her, a gleam in his gaze that had nothing to do with the hall light’s reflection.

Ah … ‘Mmm-hmm.’ She cleared the sigh from her throat and admitted, ‘That’s a kiss all right …’ Pressing her tingling lips together, she kept her back propped against the wall, still captive beneath his gaze. ‘I just need to …’ breathe. ‘I need time. To think.’ If she still had any brain cells left intact, that was.

‘Think fast, then. We’re booked on the evening flight out tomorrow night. It’s non-stop, which gives us roughly forty hours before we arrive in Dubai.’

‘What?’ She felt some of her precious independence trickle away. ‘You booked before I agreed,’ she shot at him.

‘I was—’

‘Confident,’ she snapped. ‘Yes, I get that.’

He nodded, his eyes smiling. ‘It pays to think positive.’

She glared. ‘You even asked if I had prior commitments. You had no intention of letting me honour them, did you?’

No response. Conversation over. His body heat mingled with musky male scent and suddenly he was too close, the space between them too confining, and she shuffled to one side.

He remained still, allowing her to step away. But she knew tigers were motionless just before they moved in for the kill. She tore her eyes free and moved as swiftly as her rubber legs allowed towards the kitchen.

She heard Jordan’s heavy footsteps on the floorboards. His dark flavour lingered on her lips, her tongue. ‘Coffee,’ she muttered, then over her shoulder, ‘We don’t have a coffee machine. It’s instant or nothing.’

‘Instant’s fine,’ he said, all easy-to-please, but she could feel his eyes on her back and something potent and irresistible shivered down her spine. That big tabby cat tongue again.

She slowed at the doorway to the lounge room and gestured inside without looking at him. ‘Why don’t you make yourself comfortable in there? Put the heater on if you want. I won’t be long.’

Jordan sank onto the couch but he was hardly comfortable. With the way his body reacted to this woman, he wondered if he’d ever be comfortable again. A way too full-on, over-the-top response for a girl who wasn’t supposed to be his type.

The last thing he needed was a gas wall furnace; what he needed was a cold shower. He tried focusing on his surroundings. A couple of mismatched armchairs, coffee table covered in a Christmas print cloth and topped with an untidy pile of magazines. Travellers’ photos on the walls; presumably her house-mates’, the flight attendants. Nothing in the room said Chloe. Maybe she’d not had time to put her mark on the place or maybe she never stopped long enough to make a place home.

Despite her insistence that she loved her solo lifestyle, he found the thought of her alone and itinerant for so long a little sad. Her words and actions proved she also believed family was important despite how they’d treated her. He found that sad as well.

‘Couldn’t remember if you take sugar.’

He turned at the sound of her voice. ‘I gave it up.’

‘Good for you.’ She handed him a cup, then moved to the gas heater mounted on the wall. ‘You’re not cold?’

‘No, but go ahead if you are. Or you could come over here.’ He patted the empty space beside him.

‘I think we both know that’s not a good idea.’ Her eyes swirled with more of that heated awareness but beneath it he saw a reserve, a barrier, that hadn’t been there before he’d kissed her against that wall. She stood in front of the grille, hugging her mug to her lips while the heater powered up. ‘When I mentioned “getting acquainted”, I meant everyday things we should know about each other like …’

‘Family,’ he said for her. ‘You can start.’

‘Okay,’ she said slowly. ‘I have a brother and a sister, both much older than me. Donna’s married to Jason, an accountant, and they have a teenage son. She has a degree in arts and another in classical studies but she’s been a stay-at-home mum for the past fifteen years. Caleb’s a physio with a degree in architecture on the side and married to Jenny, his receptionist, who’s studying natural medicine.’

Wow. Academic over-achievers, all of them. No wonder Chloe felt she didn’t fit in. He frowned as something occurred to him. ‘Donna’s the one expecting your financial rescue package?’

Chloe sipped her coffee, then nodded. ‘She’s the one who kept in contact, as infrequent as that is.’

‘So tell me something,’ he said, slowly. ‘With two older siblings, why is the onus on you to bail the parents out?’

‘Caleb’s mother-in-law’s a widow, she’s terminally ill and he’s footing the medical bills. Brother-in-law, Jason, the accountant who should know better, lost his money in a failed business venture last year. Donna’s “looking for suitable work”.’ She shrugged. ‘Donna’s been “looking for suitable work” for the past ten of those fifteen years.’ She raised her mug towards him. ‘Your turn.’

‘You know about Dad. My mother’s not in my life and I’m an only child.’

She studied him over the rim of her mug. ‘You’re going to need to do better than that.’

The old bad lodged in his gut, the familiar lead ball he’d carried around since childhood. He didn’t want to talk about the woman who’d given birth to him. Ina was nothing to him. She didn’t exist. But he couldn’t ignore the fact that she was married to the man who wanted this deal as much as Jordan.

His emotions must have showed because her eyes turned soft and compassionate. ‘I’m sorry, Jordan, if it’s a painful topic for you, but I need to know more if we’re going to do this thing. Is she …?’

She trailed off awkwardly and Jordan helped her out. ‘Ina’s alive and doing very nicely for herself.’ Jaw tight, he filled Chloe in on his mother’s second marriage with the owner of his business rival. He did not delve further into their relationship and was relieved when Chloe didn’t push it.

‘I’m understanding more about why this is all so important to you,’ she said, still watching him with those liquid sympathy eyes. ‘I’m sorry you and your mum can’t get on.’

He’d never seen that look directed at him before. Or maybe he’d never looked for it. He wasn’t looking for it now; it was just … there. Was he seeing more in Chloe’s eyes than he saw in other women’s? Which begged the question, why? He wasn’t sure he wanted to know.

He did know that he didn’t want sympathy, didn’t want what it stirred up inside him, or the associated feelings that came with it. ‘I like to win.’

It wasn’t revenge or even satisfaction he was seeking. This deal with Dubai was about honouring his father and closure.

Chloe nodded. ‘And I like to finish what I start.’

As long as it doesn’t take too long, he finished for her. Frankly, the fact that she liked to finish things surprised him.

So, this little adventure wouldn’t take long and the reward was huge, for both of them. He pushed up from the couch and raised his mug in salute. ‘We will win this, Chloe.’

She raised her mug too, and smiled, her eyes alive with enthusiasm. ‘Dubai, here we come.’