Nick relaxed as he and Jordan settled into the last two open chairs at the bar. This kind of wine tasting was much more his style.
Mike slid two empty glasses in front of them. “Where do you guys want to start?”
Nick thought about this. “Do you have anything in a pink?”
Mike eagerly grabbed a bottle from the back bar. “Actually, we have a gorgeous Rosato. Predominantly made from cabernet and Sangiovese grapes, fermented in stainless steel, then briefly in French oak, it’s a lush, aromatic blend of wild strawberries and blood oranges, full in the mouth without being too heavy. Perfect for a sunny, spring day like this.”
“Sounds delicious,” Nick said. “I’ll take everything but that one.”
LATER THAT NIGHT,
Nick lay on his side, listening to Jordan’s steady breaths as she slept next to him. After spending a large part of the afternoon at Kuleto winery, and then another hour at a smaller winery she’d wanted to check out for her summer wine club selections, they’d stumbled back to the bungalow and finally explored the outdoor shower. For dinner, they’d made their way to the resort’s restaurant, a Pacific Northwestern-style lodge that sat on a lake nestled against tall pine trees and mountains. They’d scored a table on the deck and had talked as the sun set—about his family, her family, about lots of things.
There was one topic they hadn’t broached, however. The subject of them.
In the morning, they would leave Napa and return to Chicago, and then . . . Nick wasn’t sure what would happen. For a guy who typically kept his relationships with women easy and breezy, this was an odd position to be in. He usually didn’t think about the next step because, usually, there was none. But Jordan Rhodes had walked into his life and now here he was—staring at her in the dark, watching her sleep. That was the type of thing a sentimental, introspective man did. Not him.
He, on the other hand, was a rational, logical kind of guy, and there were a few cold, hard facts staring him in the face. First, he’d known Jordan for three weeks.
Three
weeks. And they’d officially been together for only the last forty-eight hours of that. Second, taking the next step with her would mean one of two things: either they would spend long periods of time apart while he was on an undercover assignment, or he needed to consider a major change in his career.
The fact that he was even considering such a thing seemed crazy. One simply did not make that kind of decision after dating a woman for
forty-eight hours
.
But.
The alternative meant saying good-bye to Jordan as soon as the Eckhart investigation was over. And that just felt . . . wrong. He liked seeing her lying in bed next to him, and wanted to see her there more often. A lot more often.
In other words, he wanted it all—and that simply couldn’t happen. So he had a tough decision to make.
There was another problem complicating this decision: he had no clue what Jordan was thinking. Sure, he knew she liked him, but not once had she talked about what would happen back in Chicago. Perhaps she didn’t want to address the issue yet, or perhaps she simply didn’t have any answers herself. Maybe she was just as confused as he was.
He’d always been a straight shooter with women. But this conversation, with this particular woman, unnerved him. Because—if he was being honest with himself—he knew that there was a part of him, a good part of him, that wanted her to ask the questions he’d always tried to avoid, wanted to hear her say the things he’d never given another woman a chance to say. Like that this weekend meant something more than just a weekend.
Jordan stirred and stretched out in her sleep. She rolled even closer, attempting to edge him out to a measly one-third of the king-sized bed. He couldn’t help but smile while firmly holding his ground—even in her sleep she tried to take control.
She was smart and beautiful and successful, and probably the most remarkable woman he’d ever met. With all she had going for her, it was hard to see her ever lacking for—or needing—anything. And although he’d never want to change her strength and independence, some Cro-Magnon, club-swinging, plain-old greedy bastard deep inside nevertheless wanted to know that she needed
him
.
He’d come to the Napa Valley. He’d even semi-willingly gone to wine tastings—three of them. And he’d specifically told her that she wasn’t getting his usual no-relationships speech. So the way he saw it, the next step was hers. Sure, she’d wined and dined him, but maybe that was par for the course for billionaire heiresses. So before he put himself out there any further, and thought about those career decisions he couldn’t believe he was thinking about, he wanted something more from her. Unbelievably, for once he actually wanted to talk about feelings—but hell if he would be the one to bring it up first. He was a guy. He did have some pride.
Still, that didn’t mean he couldn’t
show
her how he felt.
Nick’s eyes moved over Jordan, taking in the tank top and underwear she slept in. He shifted and slid between her legs, careful to keep his weight on his forearms as he kissed her throat and collarbone to wake her up. She sighed contentedly and smiled when she opened her eyes and saw him.
He brushed his thumb against her cheek—that smile got to him every time. “Hey, you,” he said softly.
“I was dreaming about you.” She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer. “But this is even better.”
Pride or no pride, if he had been one of those sensitive types, he’d say he knew he was a goner right then.
Twenty-nine
THE NEXT MORNING,
as he and Jordan packed their suitcases, Nick’s phone rang with a call from his boss. This was not unexpected—in fact, he’d been waiting for this particular call all weekend. The one where Davis asked him what the hell he was doing.
“Good to hear from you, boss,” Nick answered pleasantly. He stepped out onto the terrace and waited for the conversation to go downhill from there.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing in the Napa Valley?” Davis demanded.
Bingo.
“Nick Stanton figured he should treat himself to a little R and R. The real estate market for rental properties is really booming these days.”
“Don’t give me any of that Nick Stanton crap,” Davis warned. “Do I need to remind you that you’re in the middle of an investigation?”
“An investigation in which my primary objective is to appear to be dating Jordan Rhodes. As such, I see no conflict with my present location. Not to mention, I’ve checked in with Huxley and the other agents on the team several times while I’ve been gone—Eckhart’s been quiet this weekend, sick with the stomach flu. He’s scheduled to meet with Trilani on Tuesday morning, and I’ll be back in town well before then. Today, as a matter of fact.”
Davis grunted. “Well, don’t you have all the answers?”
“You’d expect nothing less of me, boss.”
“I expect you to remember that you’re an FBI agent, that’s what I expect.”
“Trust me, that fact hasn’t slipped my mind once since I’ve been here,” Nick said sharply.
Davis paused, likely surprised by his tone. He responded carefully. “All right, Nick. You seem to have things under control. I suppose you’ve earned a little leeway.”
“Thank you. You’re . . . not going to give me the touchyfeely speech about being your top agent again, are you?”
Davis chuckled. “No speeches. Just a question: violent motorcycle gang or insider trading?”
“Is this an opinion question? Generally, I frown on both.”
“Good. Because one of them is going to be your next undercover assignment. Figured I’d let you pick. Personally, I’d go for the insider trading just for the cushy lifestyle. You’d be pretending to be a hedge fund trader, so we can probably get you something even better than the Lexus. Although Pallas made me promise that he gets to teach you how to ride a bike if you pick the motorcycle gang.”
Despite the teasing, Nick remained silent.
Another assignment.
It was all happening so quickly.
“Still there, McCall?”
“Yes. Just thinking that this conversation seems a little premature. I’m not finished with the Eckhart investigation yet.”
“According to Huxley, you guys are close. He seemed fairly confident we’d be able to wrap things up after Eckhart’s meeting with Trilani on Tuesday. Do you disagree?”
Nick paused. “No.”
“Glad to hear it. In addition to tying you up, I’ve had three agents practically living in a van outside Bordeaux for the last two weeks. The sooner we can finish this, the better,” Davis said. “I know you’ve got your New York trip coming up, but as soon as you’re back I figured we can start prepping you for your next case.”
Nick knew this was how it worked. It was how he’d done things since he’d begun working undercover several years ago. He went from assignment to assignment and didn’t think twice about it. But now . . .
He looked through the window and saw Jordan standing next to the bed, packing the white dress into her open suitcase.
Like it or not, it was decision time.
JORDAN WAS BEGINNING
to get nervous.
Nick had been acting strangely ever since he’d received the phone call at the resort. It was just like the time he’d gotten the call from “Ethan” at Eckhart’s party—she knew something was up. Sure, he’d put forth a good effort during the drive from Napa to the airport, and again during their flight home, but she could see it in his eyes.
She’d asked him twice what was wrong and had gotten nowhere. She’d begun to think she needed to break out some seriously badass interrogation tactics—and then realized she had no such tactics. Although he did respond well to the thong and high heels technique.
Something to keep in mind.
When they got back to her house, Nick left his suitcase by the front door and carried hers upstairs to her bedroom. Jordan waited in the kitchen, eying that suitcase by the front door and becoming more worried as she contemplated its meaning. If she was reading between the lines and speculating about Nick’s mysterious behavior—something she didn’t want to do, but since he wasn’t
telling
her anything she had no choice—she would have to say that it didn’t appear as though he planned to stay the night.
Suddenly, she had a bad feeling she knew why Nick was behaving so oddly. She had only asked him for a weekend, and now that weekend was over.
She heard him coming down the stairs and pulled herself together. She was overreacting, obviously. She had to be. He liked her, and they’d just spent an incredible two days together. There was no reason to start getting all worried and presumptuous now.
She threw on a smile when he entered the kitchen. “Thank you for carrying that upstairs for me,” she said, referring to her suitcase.
“Just how many bottles of wine did you stash in there?” he asked.
“Actually, it’s the shoes.” She tried to look casual. “So, should we talk about this thing you’ve been avoiding all day?”
Standing at the opposite end of the counter, Nick nodded. “Yes. Sorry—I’ve been mulling a few things over in my head.” He took a moment, as if deciding where to begin. “That call this morning was from my boss. He wanted to talk about my next undercover assignment.”
Jordan blinked in surprise. “Your next assignment? You haven’t even finished the one with Xander yet.”
“Eckhart plans to meet with Trilani on Tuesday morning,” he said. “I think we’ll probably be able to wrap things up after that.”
Jordan’s heart sank.
So soon
. Sure, she’d known the end of the investigation was looming, but she hadn’t realized it was this close. “When do you begin your next assignment? I assume you at least get some time off, right?”
Nick shook his head. “Not much. I’d planned to go to New York to spend a few days with my family, and when I come back my boss wants me to start getting up to speed on the next assignment.”
What about us?
Jordan caught the words just before they spilled out of her mouth. Nick’s expression was unreadable, and it occurred to her: perhaps she hadn’t been overreacting to the suitcase by the door. Perhaps, despite all the sweet words and the really, really fantastic sex and her gut instinct, she’d been wrong to think that her weekend with him had become something more than just a weekend.
In other words, perhaps she’d just become a Lisa.
Nick hadn’t made a single promise to her over the weekend. In fact, he hadn’t once brought up the subject of what might happen once they got back to Chicago. For her part, she’d deliberately avoided the issue, not wanting to look too pushy or needy. Besides, she’d figured,
she
was the one who’d taken the first step and asked him to go to Napa with her. Which meant the next move was his.
And now he seemed to be making that move. Backward. Right out her front door.
Still, she wasn’t ready to give up just yet. She kept her cool, resolved to hear whatever it was Nick had to say. Assuming he had something to say.