Читать книгу Body Moves - Jodi Lynn Copeland - Страница 8

Jordan punched the elevator button for the second floor of Private Indulgence’s main offices. He’d spent the night considering Danica’s response to the primal way he’d taken her up against the wall and came to the conclusion he was acting like a cynical ass. The resort could prove to be a bad investment when compared with others in the industry or all on its own. Until that happened, he had no reason to expect the worst of it or its owner.

His father was behind his cynicism. John had known Danica less than a week, and in that time she’d earned enough of his respect for him to trust her with his money in a way Jordan hadn’t been able to accomplish in years.

Putting it simply, Jordan was jealous as hell.

The elevator dinged as it reached the second floor. He stepped out of the car, determined not to let jealousy play a part in his treatment of Danica from this point on. He would be open-minded, get to know her as his father had. If doing so revealed past or ongoing skeletons, hopefully they would be enough to sway his father into trusting Jordan with his money instead. If it didn’t…It was the old man’s money to invest with whom and where he chose.

He reached the executive operations suite and opened the door to an empty waiting room decorated in cheery yellows and greens, the walls lined with framed photos of the resort under construction, along with certificates of training completion for Danica and the rest of the staff housed in the suite. He moved up to the check-in desk.

Flashing a practiced smile, a late fiftysomething, silver-haired receptionist slid open the glass partition separating the administrative and waiting areas. Her gaze fell on his shirt, and amusement gleamed in her eyes. “May I help you?”

Not busting a gut laughing over his clothes would be a start. The kitschy red Hawaiian shirt, with its enormous purple and white flowers, was ridiculous-looking but preferable to sweating to death in his suit.

Jordan typically wouldn’t resort to charm to get his way. Since he didn’t have an actual appointment and the shirt wasn’t exactly doing him any favors, he didn’t have much choice. He flashed his teeth in an appreciative smile as he scanned her nameplate. “Good morning, Diane. I have a meeting with Dr. Crosby. I was here yesterday, when you had on a dress the same stunning shade of green as your eyes.”

Soft pink settled over the lines on her face that said she hadn’t succumbed to Botox temptation. “Why, yes, I remember now. Mr. Cantrell, right?”

He nodded. “Great memory to go with a great smile.”

Diane fidgeted with the papers on the counter in front of her a few seconds before picking one up. “Ah, here’s the appointment log.” She frowned. “Oh, but I don’t see your name on it.”

If she was younger, he would add a bit of sensuality to the mix, give the back of her hand a teasing touch while he pretended to search the log for his name. Since she was his mother’s age and already appeared flustered, he stuck with the smile. “Strange. Dr. Crosby asked her assistant to schedule a follow-up appointment for today. I believe her name was Lena.”

She stood from her desk. “Give me a moment.”

Diane disappeared through a door on the right side of the closed-in reception area. Within a minute, a grinning Lena appeared through the door connecting the waiting area to the business offices. She gave his blindingly obscene shirt a glance and her grin faltered. Like she had room to talk with those obnoxious earrings. Jordan was no fashion guru, but it didn’t take one to know the hideous pink and green hula girls were no match for her sleeveless red shirt and white capris.

Her grin warmed again, revealing an attractive dimple. “Nice to see you, Mr. Cantrell.”

“You, too.” If she assisted him without question, the way she had last night when she’d supplied Danica’s address, it would be even nicer. “I was telling Diane I have a follow-up appointment with Dr. Crosby this morning.”

“Of course you do,” Lena said without hesitation. “You’re a few minutes early, but I doubt that’ll be a problem. Why don’t you follow me on back?”

Could it really be as easy as that? If so, Danica had told Lena about last night. The way Lena was grinning suggested Danica had only good things to say.

Jordan’s blood warmed with the thought of getting Danica naked again, this time completely. Only, that wouldn’t be happening. The plan was to get close to her in the same way his father had, and that damned well better not have included sex.

“Thanks.” With a farewell smile to Diane, he followed Lena down the hall toward Danica’s office. “I don’t know why you’re being so helpful, but it’s appreciated.”

“Just doing Hi’iaka’s bidding.”

“Hi’iaka is…?”

Glancing over her shoulder, she fingered the hula girl dangling from her right ear. “The goddess who created the hula and my vision guide. I’m psychic.”

Lena being gifted might explain her easy acceptance of him. Jordan still had a hell of a time believing she was serious. “You don’t say.”

“Danica doesn’t believe me either.” She stopped a couple feet from Danica’s closed office door. “Wait here.” At his nod, she continued to the door and knocked.

With the rap on her office door, Danica looked up from her computer monitor, where she was researching fund-raiser ideas online since last night’s brainstorming session had been a complete bomb, to the alarm clock. Ten o’clock. She wasn’t expecting anyone now, or for the rest of the day, for that matter. “Come in.”

The door pushed in, and Lena filled the entryway, just as she had yesterday at this exact time of morning. A not-very-pleasant feeling of déjà vu settled over Danica.

Lena glanced at the candy dish on her desk. “How’s the almond supply?”

“The dish is half full.” She narrowed her eyes. “Or is it half empty? What’s going on? You look devious.”

“Nothing’s going on. Just letting you know your ten o’clock is here.”

“I don’t have a ten—”

Lena disappeared before she could finish, and, like yesterday, Jordan took her place in the doorway. Unlike yesterday, he wasn’t wearing a power suit and Kenneth Coles. Today, he had on knee-length dark blue board shorts and a Hawaiian print shirt so loud Danica’s fingers tingled to tear it off and send it through her paper shredder.

Her sex joined in on the tingling with the thought of him shirtless. She hadn’t seen his torso last night, but she’d had her hands on it and his back through his shirt. Both had felt very nice, as did his mustache brushing against her lips. His nowhere-near-to-miniscule cock had felt incredible pushing into her wet pussy while his hands gripped her ass.

Moisture jetted to her core, and she made a mad grab for the chocolate-covered almonds. She frowned at him as she chewed a small handful of nuts.

He smiled back. “You really do have a fetish.”

God, she hated the way his smile intensified his already too-potent eyes. It made her think of Lena’s omen they were destined to have sex again, maybe even this morning.

Danica reminded herself he was a potential patient and kept her voice calm while her heart sped. “We don’t have an appointment today.”

Jordan moved into the office. The scent of his cologne infiltrated her senses and tented her nipples. She crossed her arms over her breasts.

His attention wavered to her chest, and his smile grew as he again met her eyes. “Sure we do. Lena must have forgotten to tell you about scheduling me in last minute.”

Big surprise, Lena was in on this. “She must have.”

“Or maybe she had a vision about it and never actually got around to doing it in real life.”

“She told you she’s psychic?” What else had Little Ms. Big Mouth shared? If she’d told him they were fated to have a second screw, it wouldn’t matter how much Pepsi Lena had to barter with, Danica was going to kill her.

“And that you don’t believe in her abilities,” he added.

What she didn’t believe was that he—a virtual stranger—was standing in her office essentially calling her a lousy friend. “I never said I don’t believe in her. I just have yet to see proof. Take last night. Lena said she told you where I live because she had a vision of you coming to my villa and me waiting for you at the door. The thing is, she sent you to my villa, and I wasn’t waiting for you, but her. So should I buy that she had a vision or just saw an opportunity to play matchmaker and decided to go for it?”

“Do you always masturbate right when Lena’s due over?”

Her pussy thrummed with his words. She guessed he knew what she’d been doing when he arrived but until now had held out hope she was mistaken.

She blew out a breath. “Why are you here?”

Jordan looked around her office, assessing each inch of the space as he’d done yesterday. Only, his approach wasn’t quite the same. The oppressive air was gone. Now he seemed to notice the disarray had a certain feng shui appeal—all right, Danica had never considered it that way before, but Lena would appreciate the step outside of her “normally boring” box.

He looked back at her and nodded approvingly. “Organized chaos. It’s never worked for me, but I have friends who swear by it.”

“You haven’t answered my question, Mr. Cantrell. I have a full day planned, so if it’s another tour you’re after, Lena will need to set you up with one of the resort guides.”

“It’s Jordan, remember, like the almond?” His eyes warmed to the same shade of dark turquoise they’d been last night, right before he’d pushed her up against the wall and fucked her stupid. “I do want another tour. Several of them.”

“Let me get Lena to—”

“I want you.”

Therein lay the problem and the reason his presence in her office yesterday precisely at ten was, in fact, the third bad thing to happen to her. Danica wanted him, too.

Another day together was bound to end on an incredibly good-feeling note with ultimately bad consequences. For once, she didn’t think those consequences would center on back pain. The feral way he’d pounded into her last night had released every bit of the tension amassed in her lower spine from her bathtub masturbation session. She’d woken up this morning feeling wonderfully normal.

“I’m thinking about having a generous amount of work done,” Jordan said soberly. “I don’t want to rely on secondary knowledge of a procedure or the environment that procedure will be done in. I want the best person possible to show me everyone and everything this place has to offer.”

“I appreciate how you feel, but I have a business to run and—”

“Surgeries to perform.”

“I don’t do the operations.”

Surprise flickered in Jordan’s gaze. “You don’t?”

“I scrub in from time to time to keep up on the latest techniques and to keep from forgetting my training, but I leave the primary work to the long-time experts.”

Respect shone in his eyes, quickly turning to conviction. “I intend to make it worth your while to ignore business operations for a few days.”

“How?”

“Money. Name your price; I’m good for it.”

Danica gave his shirt a glance. The suit he’d worn yesterday looked pricey and far more fitting to his personality. She chose to ignore that to say sarcastically, “It shows.”

He looked down. “This is desperation. My luggage was lost during flight transfer, and the only shop I could find open last night after we…” His gaze shot up, his eyes instantly back to the intense shade that did wicked things to her panties.

Sucking in a breath, she crossed her legs against a rush of wet heat and waited for him to continue. Or to climb across the desk and kiss her until they were both panting and tugging at each other’s clothes. The former was the smart thing to do, but her fluttering pussy really hoped he went with the latter.

“The only place open late,” Jordan said in a raspy voice, “was Aloha Outfitters.”

Danica shook off her arousal. Really, what was she thinking, wanting him, and in her office with the door open no less?

She needed the money he spoke of, and that was what her concentration had to be on. “I need to give more than a few hours of notice and arrange the appropriate staff to fill in for me to take a full day off. I’ll give you the rest of the week from noon onward each day, but that’s the best I can do.”

“Deal.” He glanced at a silver Rolex that was totally at odds with the remainder of his attire. “I’m assuming the rest of the week starts today, so I’ll see you in a couple hours. Shall we meet at your place or mine?”

“My office.” The only safe place.

Right. Safe. She’d been eager for him to climb across the desk and have his way with her when the door was open and the building full of staff. At noon, most everyone would be out to lunch. That sounded about as safe as running with a scalpel in her hand.

Two phone calls following Jordan’s departure from her office had temporarily waylaid Danica from her mission. She was off the phone now and crossing the hall with murder on her mind. Fortunately for Lena, there was no scalpel in Danica’s hand.

She stepped into Lena’s office, slamming the door behind her. Lena’s head shot up from whatever she’d been reading on her desk.

Danica glared. “You’re itching for an ass kicking, aren’t you?”

The surprise left Lena’s face and she smiled. “I’ve always been a sucker for a good cat fight.”

“Let me guess, a vision is behind your decision to lead Jordan into my office when you know damned well he didn’t have an appointment?”

“No vision necessary. Seeing how happy you still were this morning, after getting it on with stud man last night, I knew you needed to see him again.”

Danica hadn’t been happy this morning, at least not any more so than usual. She’d been well rested because, for the first time in too long, her muscles had been loose enough to allow for sound sleep. She hadn’t told Lena about her back issues and the resultant reoccurring pain because she didn’t want her friend worrying over something that couldn’t be fixed. Danica much preferred Lena focus on something she could help, like their friendship by stopping her attempts to push Jordan her way.

Not that she could blame Lena for her agreeing to Jordan’s offer. Not even the need for his money had fueled Danica’s decision to be his personal tour guide for the week, as she’d told herself. Impatience had made her do it.

Her frustration eased and she admitted, “You’ll be ecstatic to know Jordan and I are spending the rest of the week together, from noon on each day.”

Lena’s expression moved right past the anticipated ecstatic to downright impressed. “Noon on. As in, you’re all his for the rest of the day and night. I guess one hairy armpit wasn’t a turnoff, after all.”

Danica wanted to laugh, or maybe groan. Only, she couldn’t get past the ominous tightening of her belly. “We didn’t discuss night.”

“You said noon on; including night in there would be a given.”

Would it?

No, it wouldn’t, since Jordan didn’t want to sleep with her again. He’d said so last night. Only he hadn’t. She’d asked if they were going to forget about having sex, and he’d implied as much, but he hadn’t actually given her a straight answer. Instead he’d ogled her body like he hadn’t just had his hands all over it and commented on how good she looked. The hot look he’d given her this morning wasn’t any better. It definitely didn’t make it seem he was ready to forget about him and her and soul-shaking sex.

Shoot. This could be bad…in a way that had her pussy swelling with liquid excitement. “I’m not sleeping with him again,” she told herself as much as Lena.

Lena laughed. “Of course you are.”

Danica sighed. “That’s right. Hi’iaka deems it so.” How could she have thought to defy the wants of a long-dead goddess? “I might as well say to hell with waiting for the fated moment and throw myself at him immediately.”

Lena’s eyes warmed with approval. “Like I said yesterday, there’s hope for you yet, hon.”

Jordan shot Danica a wary glance as they stepped out of the main office elevator a few minutes after noon and headed through the first floor of the building to the open parking lot. Yesterday, he’d been able to avoid getting back in the demonic golf cart with the excuse his villa was less than a half mile from the phalloplasty facility, and he wanted to get some exercise by walking back. Today, he wasn’t feeling so lucky.

As feared, Danica proceeded toward the cart. “Since you won’t tell me what type of work you’re considering having done, we’ll start on the far end of the resort and work our way back here as the week progresses.”

He veered off the sidewalk toward his black rental coupe parked in the middle of the lot. “We can use my car.”

“Taking the service drive will mean missing out on a great deal of the behind-the-scenes part of the resort. You said you wanted to see everything.”

Shit. She had him there.

Jordan turned back, and the eager look on Danica’s face as she jingled the cart’s keys reminded him the golf cart wasn’t possessed, just the woman who drove it.

He had no respect for liars. For the sake of protecting his parents’ welfare, he’d had to lie to Danica about his last name and about wanting surgery. For their sake, he lied again as he made his way back to the sidewalk. “We can take your golf cart, but I’ll need to drive. I have a problem with motion sickness, which is why I got out so fast yesterday. Driving is the only thing that keeps the nausea away.”

The merry jingling of the keys stopped. Her lips pushed into an openmouthed sulk as she held out the keys. “Be careful. I’ve never let anyone else drive her.”

He was supposed to regard her as his father would. Jordan hadn’t managed to accomplish that this morning in her office, and he for damned sure couldn’t do it now, because he was human. Any single guy with a healthy libido would take one look at her lush pink lips pushed into the evocative mew and have the vision of filling up the circle of her lips with his dick.

His shaft roused against the navy knit shorts he’d bought, along with a white and navy polo shirt, in between visits to Danica’s office. “Your baby, huh?”

She continued toward the golf cart. “The one and only.”

He forced his attention from the plumpness of her ass in a midthigh black skirt and continued to the cart. He climbed into the driver’s side, subtly adjusting his growing erection before looking over at her. “Do you want children?”

She gasped and her gaze shot to his groin, like she thought he was making an offer to be the father.

Mom would be elated.

Jordan recoiled with the thought. He would give his parents grandkids someday, but the mother of those kids wouldn’t be Danica. Not that any better candidate came to mind. It wasn’t because he hadn’t taken the time away from work to get to know his recent lovers either. He knew them well enough to know they hadn’t appealed to him beyond a few casual fucks. A woman who kept his interest would come along when the time was right.

Danica frowned. “Why would you ask that?”

He started up the golf cart and focused out the front windshield at the many-windowed side of the building. “The resort seems like a huge responsibility. I wasn’t sure if you would have time for both.”

“I like kids.” She sounded insulted. “If and when I have them, it will be with a man who wants to share the responsibility of taking care of both the resort and the children.”

“If and when that happens, I’m sure you’ll handle the balance perfectly.” Jordan had said the words to appease her. But the more he learned about her and the efficiency with which she ran the resort, the more he believed they were a precise judge of her character.

He backed out of the parking space. “Where to?”

She pointed to the rear of the lot where a narrow paved path cut through the grass. He veered the cart in that direction, following the path slowly up a winding hill.

“There’s no speed limit,” Danica pointed out after a couple minutes.

Yeah, and he wasn’t training for NASCAR the way she seemed to be. “I’m enjoying the scenery.” He made a show of checking out the abundance of trees and multicolored tropical flowers. The hill crested after a quarter mile, and the lichen-covered rise of a small mountain became visible on his left. It was the rolling greens of a golf course on his right that drew his true attention, though.

His father was mistaken about the investment firm sucking the life out of him. It had, however, eaten up more of Jordan’s time the past couple years than he liked to acknowledge. The last time he’d golfed was…Hell, he couldn’t remember. With the snow soon ready to fall back in New York, he wouldn’t be getting a game in this year either. Unless he took advantage of the year-round sun and warm sea breezes of the Caribbean. Playing a friendly round of golf with Danica could only aid him in his quest to get to know her better.

He stopped the cart at the head of the first hole. She looked over, and he nodded toward the tee box. “Resort owned?”

“Actually, it’s not a real course.” She smiled in a way that involved her whole face, her eyes going mostly gray and her mouth opening far enough to give him a glimpse of her tongue. “My father laid out a par-three, nine-hole course for practicing his game. He thought it would be a good place to build on investor relations, too.”

With the flash of Danica’s tongue, Jordan struggled to keep his head on the conversation and not on the unforgettable way her mouth felt moving against his. How her exuberant lips and tongue would feel even better sliding down his body to torment his cock in all the best ways. “It didn’t work?”

“He died during the construction of the resort.”

Christ, what an asshole. Sitting here with his dick hard and thoughts of her making it even harder while he unknowingly made her relive her father’s death. “I’m sorry. You’re what—mid to late twenties? He had to have been quite young.”

Danica laughed. “Nice attempt at charm, but I’m almost thirty-two, and my dad died of natural causes. I was a late-in-life decision for my parents. Dad was in his early fifties and Mom forty-four when I was born.”

He hadn’t been trying to charm her. The reemergence of her husky laugh changed that, made him have the dangerous thought to take her out to the closest sand trap and risk getting sand in every one of their crevices.

Jordan remained seated. “Running this place is a tribute to your father?”

“Private Indulgence was my idea. Dad was the one with the money and experience to see my dream become a reality.”

“Did the resort not take off as well as planned, or why do you need additional funds?”

She eyed him suspiciously. “What makes you think I do?”

“Your agreement to give me your time in exchange for my money.”

“The resort is doing well.” Danica looked toward the tee box. “I’m just flawed.”

“Not from what I’ve seen.” He’d only seen the majority of her front side in the buff, but it happened to be the side that contained some of her most important parts.

He’d pegged her breasts as being implant-enhanced. If they were implants, the surgeon had done an impeccable job. They looked, felt, and tasted 100 percent authentic.

Letting go another alluring laugh, she looked back at him. “I meant personalitywise. I have no idea what order is, and I’m impatient as hell. Lena helps out on the organizational end of things, but nothing can be done for my impatience. I want to see the resort expanded to include nonelective surgeries, bringing people health along with happiness, and I want it to happen now.”

It was the information Jordan had been hoping for. She wanted to act rashly, and rash actions often led to failure. Proving she had a history of impulsive behavior where the resort was concerned would be the perfect excuse for his father not to sink his money into the place.

Now to clear his mind of the fact he hadn’t actually felt or tasted her breasts last night…“Are there clubs stored somewhere around here?”

She frowned. “You want to golf? But what about the tour?”

The tour could wait an hour or two. Bonding was essential. Not the kind of bonding that joined his throbbing cock with her tight pussy either. Unless, of course, she wanted to sleep with him again—that was bound to be the best-feeling bad idea he ever had. “Like I said yesterday, work hasn’t allowed for golfing, or for that matter play of any kind, in ages. You hinted at the same. Only in your case, you’ll still technically be on the clock, since I’m paying for your time.”

“Gee, thanks for making me feel like a prostitute.”

“Could I pay you to have sex with me, Danica?” Jordan shouldn’t have asked the question and risked their fragile connection. She’d resurfaced his cynicism with her admission to being impatient, and the words had come tumbling out.

Danica didn’t bat an eyelash, just slid her hand into his lap and said in an undeniably naughty voice, “Depends how much you’re offering and your kink level.”