I Promise (11 page)

Lodgers Inn
Jackson, Mississippi

C
hristian slumped into a chair in the hotel lobby. Her body ached and her temples throbbed. She needed a hot shower and a soft bed.

Jordan thanked Earl and offered him compensation for his help.

“Nah, that's awright. You two lovebirds probably need to hold on to whatever ya got after a day like this. I'm just happy I could help.”

Christian frowned.
Lovebirds?

“Well, thanks again,” Jordan responded with a firm handshake.

Earl tipped his hat toward Christian. “Nice meeting you, ma'am.”

She shared a brief smile, relieved that she had been wrong about the haggard-looking man. He had stayed with them throughout the ordeal of reporting the vandalism to the local authorities and while they arranged for a new rental car. In fact, he had been a godsend.

Jordan dropped into the chair beside her.

She glanced over at his unguarded expression. Tired lines creased around his eyes and across his forehead. His broad shoulders hunched forward as he stared down at the patterns of the red and gold carpet.

She liked looking at him. When he lifted his head, their eyes met. An awkward smile wobbled in place as she averted her gaze.

Jordan stood. “I'm going to see if I can get us rooms. Do you want to wait here?”

“I don't think I could get up right now if the building was on fire.”

He laughed. “I'll be right back.”

As he walked over to the front desk, Christian studied him. She enjoyed the view as he moved with smooth, even strides. What was wrong with her? She leaned back and closed her eyes.

“Christian?”

She woke to the sound of Jordan's voice and concerned gaze.

Blinking, she stifled a yawn and stood. “I'm sorry. I must have dozed off.” She covered her mouth to hide the next yawn.

Jordan chuckled. “I would have never guessed you snore.”

She smacked his arm. “I don't,” she declared as embarrassment burned her cheeks.

“You most certainly do.” He laughed. “Let's get you up to our room so you can get some sleep.”

Christian took one step then stopped. “
Our
room?”

“You caught that, huh?” he picked up their bags.

“You only got one room?”

“They only had one room available,” he answered with a note of apology in his voice.

“I don't believe this,” she mumbled under her breath and picked up the remaining luggage.

A spark of laughter lit his eyes. “I swear, I'll be a good roommate. You won't even notice me lying next to you.”

“One bed?” she asked incredulously.

“I'm afraid so.” His grin broadened.

She stood staring at him.

“No need to look so shell-shocked. At least it's a king-sized bed.” He laughed as he headed toward the elevators.

Christian followed. “You're not going to offer to take the floor?”

An elevator dinged then opened.

“Why would I do that? I would never get any sleep that way.”

“Fine,” she announced in a curt tone. She stormed into the elevator behind him. “I'll take the floor.”

Jordan exhaled and called her bluff as they rose to their floor. “Suit yourself.”

“What?”

The elevator doors slid open and Jordan stepped out. He followed the arrows that indicated the location of their room.

Christian stomped behind him. Her anger mounted when he refused to continue their conversation.

“Ah, here it is, Room 316.” He slid the card into the slot then opened the door.

As she stepped into the room, her gaze riveted on the large bed. Heat rushed across her body. She was unsure whether it was from anger, or anticipation.

“I'm starving,” Jordan announced, placing the bags near the entertainment center. “Do you want to order dinner to be delivered or do you want to go out and grab something? I think I remember seeing some type of restaurant or lounge just downstairs.”

Christian closed the door. “No on both counts. I just want to take a hot shower and go to bed.”

Jordan's brows lifted. “Eager? Now that's what I like in a woman.”

She dropped her bags and slapped her hands on her hips. “I don't think so, Mr. Williams. So, wipe that grin off your face.”

He shrugged. “Your loss.”

Christian bit back a sharp retort.

Jordan waited while she snatched clothes and personal items from their bags. He couldn't believe how dark her face had turned. When she slammed the bathroom door shut, he released a bark of laughter.

 

Noah sat in the dark in his private study, nursing his fifth drink. The day's events flooded his mind while his heart seemed trapped in his throat. Thanks to Jack Daniel's, his earlier panic had given way to numbness.

He had failed. Chin was right. He did lack what it took to take Opulence into the next millennium. He leaned forward, dropping his elbows onto the desk. What else could he do other than step down? Chin had made it clear that the board had already made up its mind.

He poured another drink. Nothing mattered anymore. He was a disgrace to his father's memory.

The door opened. A dim light spread across the room, hitting Noah with all the force of a spotlight.

He shielded his eyes. “What does a man have to do in this house to get a little privacy?” he barked at his intruder.

Malcolm flipped on the light switch. “What on earth happened to you?”

“Nothing. Now turn that damn thing off and go away.”

The light clicked off, but his son ignored his last order and strolled over to Noah's hiding place.

“Are you all right?”

“Wonderful. Don't I look it?”

Malcolm snatched the empty bottle from the desk. “Tell me you didn't drink this whole thing by yourself.”

“Of course not,” Noah leaned back in his chair. “I had help from my three closest buddies.”

“Who?”

“Me, myself, and I.” Noah laughed heartily at his own joke.

“You're drunk.”

“No, I'm not. I just got started an hour ago. Tell you what, why don't you join me? You're no stranger to Mr. Daniel.” He pushed another bottle forward.

Malcolm shook his head. “You've had enough. Let me help you up to bed.”

“Leave me alone if you're not going to join me.”

“What has gotten into you?”

Noah laughed, then sobered as he lowered his head into his hands. “I lost everything,” he confessed in a broken sob.

Malcolm drew a ragged breath. “What do you mean?”

Pushing himself out of the chair, Noah moved to the window to look out at the full moon.

“Dad?”

“The board is going to vote me out,” he whispered. His gaze remained on the sky's black carpet. “I've lost my father's legacy.”

Speechless, Malcolm stared at his father's deflated profile while a million questions chased one another in his mind. Why hadn't he known about this? “Maybe you should sit down and tell me what is happening from the beginning.”

“There is nothing to tell.”

“How do you know the board is going to vote you out? Who told you?” Malcolm demanded.

Noah turned and leveled his gaze at Malcolm. “Does it matter?”

“Of course it does.” Malcolm struggled to grasp the situation. “Even if you were voted out as CEO, you own enough stock to remain on as a member of the board. You haven't lost anything but a position.”

“What the hell do you know.” Noah's tone turned venomous.

Malcolm's body jerked as if his father had punched him.

Noah shook his head. “Your grandfather would turn over in his grave if he could see the mess I've caused.”

“Is there something else that you haven't told me?

A sharp bark of laughter resonated from Noah. “Only that we're nearly broke.”

“What?”

Noah made it back to his chair and dropped into the leather seat with a thud. “Dear God, don't tell your mother.”

Malcolm found a chair, and sat deflated as he stared at his father. “How long have you known this?”

Shrugging, Noah picked up his glass, then muttered a curse at finding it empty.

During the ensuing silence, Malcolm scrambled for something to say—some words of comfort.

“I'm going to bed.” Noah stood and moved to the door. “Let me make the announcement to the family when the time is right.”

“You haven't told Jordan?”

“Tonight is the first time I've allowed myself to swim out of denial. You're the first person I've told. Promise me you'll let me tell the family first.”

Helplessness settled on Malcolm's shoulders as he held his father's gaze.

“Promise me,” Noah asked again.

Malcolm nodded. “I promise.”

C
hristian's stomach rumbled. Why had she turned Jordan's dinner invitation down? She was starving. Glancing around the small hotel room, she had hoped to spot a bar for peanuts, potato chips, anything would do at this point.

She chastised herself for behaving like a child. If she was hungry, she should go and join him for dinner. She plopped down on the bed. Dinner meant conversation. Conversation led to questions, and Jordan Williams was the most inquisitive man she had ever met. Just two more days, she told herself. Surely, she could handle that.

Her stomach growled again. Her gaze went to the door as she debated a final time before springing from the bed to slip on a pair of jeans and a T-shirt.

It wouldn't be so bad, she promised herself. She'd eat, keep the conversation light and directed off herself.

When she entered the dark lounge that doubled as a restaurant, her hunger pangs increased tenfold from the different aromas that assaulted her.

Jordan stood, drawing her attention. As she moved through the crowd, she said a quick prayer, then suppressed her nervousness. Her gaze danced over his snug shirt that displayed his muscular chest.

She prayed again.

“So you finally decided to join me for dinner?” His ready-made smile greeted her. His expression held a boyish charm and weakened Christian's defenses one layer at a time. He walked around the table and pulled out a chair for her.

She took her seat and murmured, “Thank you.”

Jordan returned to his seat.

“So what are ya having?” she asked, pretending to ignore his assessing gaze.

His low rumble of laughter filled her ears.

Her sharp glance snapped to him just as he lowered his gaze to the menu.

“Order whatever you want,” he said. “I'll add it to your tab.”

Christian shifted in her chair. She didn't like being dependent on him.

Dimples reappeared in the center of his cheeks, once again transforming his devilish features to appear more angelic.

“Good evening. My name is Blaze. I'll be your waitress this evening. Do you already know what you'd like to have this evening?”

Christian looked up and smiled at the short waitress that arrived at their table. With strawberry-blond hair piled high to resemble a beehive, Blaze popped and snapped her chewing gum as if it were the last stick in the world.

“Sure, I'm ready to order,” Christian answered, glancing at Jordan.

“Go ahead,” he said.

“I'll have the Uncle Bob steak special.”

“That's twenty ounces,” Jordan interrupted with astonishment.

“I can handle it,” she promised, then ordered two side dishes, an appetizer, and even preordered her dessert. She folded the menu and handed it to the waitress.

Jordan made his selection. When they were alone, he crossed his arms to stare at her. “Quite an appetite you've got there.”

A brief smile fluttered at her lips. “I'm not like the other women you've dated. I believe in eating when I'm hungry.”

“Is that what this is, a date?” His probing gaze captured hers.

Air abandoned her lungs as euphoria clouded her mind.

Jordan tilted his head, reminding her that he had asked her a question.

“No,” she clipped her answer in a harsh tone.

“Too bad,” he murmured, lowering his gaze to her lips.

Her gaze narrowed. “Why do you insist on baiting me?”

“Two reasons,” he said, leaning back in his chair with a cocky grin dominating his face. “One, because it's fun. I've never seen quite that shade of burgundy on a sister's face.”

Arms crossed, she fought the urge to deliver a quick kick to his shin. “What's the second reason?”

“Because you let me.”

Heat rushed along her neck to burn at her cheeks.

Another rumble of laughter boomed from Jordan.

“I'm so glad you find me amusing.” Sarcasm sharpened her tone.

Jordan held up his hands. “I'm sorry. I didn't mean to offend you.”

The waitress arrived with their stuffed mushroom appetizer.

Once they were alone again, Jordan caught her off guard with his next question. “Tell me about this Bobby?”

She frowned at his audacity. “I don't think that is any of your business.”

“Touché.”

Christian shook her head. How was it that he kept her emotions on edge?

Jordan smiled. “You know, we've known each other for three days and the only thing you'll tell me about yourself is that you were raised on a ranch.”

“That's not true,” she defended herself. “You also know my name.”

“Ah, so we
are
making progress.”

Christian laughed.

“Tell me about yourself,” he persisted.

“Why?”

“Why not?”

“There's nothing to tell.” She picked up her fork and speared a mushroom.

“Let me be the judge of that.”

She shook her head.

“Why is everything such a big secret with you?”

Peering into his agitated expression, she shrugged her shoulders. “All right. What do you want to know?”

“Will you answer honestly?”

“I'll try.”

“What are you hiding?”

My heart
. “Nothing.”

“You're a beautiful liar.”

“If you don't like my answers, then don't ask any questions.”

Jordan shook his head and laughed.

“What about you?” She turned the tables. “You're not exactly flowing with information yourself.”

“Fair enough,” he conceded. “Ask me anything.”

She shrugged, desperately wanting to change the subject.

Their meals arrived. She welcomed the reprieve.

“Okay, what's your first question?” Jordan asked, after Blaze left.

“Is it so hard for you to believe I'm just not interested in you?”

Mock horror struck his features. “Not interested? Impossible!”

Caught off guard, Christian's defenses crumbled, and she laughed. “You know,” she said, sobering. “There are times when you and your brother have more than good looks in common.”

Jordan leaned forward. “So you think I'm good-looking, huh?”

“Don't let it go to your head,” she answered.

“Too late.”

She shook her head, laughing and enjoying their light banter.

“At least I made you laugh,” he said.

Christian bit her lower lip and nodded. “I guess I deserved that.”

“It's all right. Maybe I have been a little too forward.”

“Maybe?”

He grinned. “Okay.
I
deserved that one.” He unrolled his napkin and placed it on his lap. “But seriously, I would like to get to know you better.”

Christian swallowed a large piece of steak. Tears stung her eyes as the meat lodged in her throat, choking her.

Jordan bound out of his chair. “Put your hands up.”

Her hand flew to her glass. “W-water.”

He pounded her back.

Her eyes widened with alarm as her hands waved at him to stop.

His hand slapped her back again.

If she didn't choke to death, his pounding would snap her spine in two, she thought. Between the beating and water, the steak gave way and slid down her throat. “It's gone,” she shouted in time to stop the next strike of his heavy hand.

“Are you sure you're all right?” Concern etched lines into his face.

It was comical really, she thought, as she wiped the remaining tears from her eyes. Weak, she nodded and took another sip of water.

Jordan returned to his seat.

Christian gathered her composure, then laughed when she caught him watching her.

“What?” he asked with a spreading grin.

“I thought you were going to kill me, hitting me like that.” Tears brimmed her eyes as she laughed.

“Oh, sorry.”

The choking incident behind them, they slid into a comfortable silence. Christian made a game of observing Jordan while he ate. To say that he was good-looking did him a disservice. He was gorgeous. His friendly air and self-confidence made it easy to be around him, maybe too easy.

“So, how do you like my profile?” He caught her staring.

Embarrassment darkened her complexion. “You could use a shave,” she lied.

With a cocky grin and a quick wiggle of his eyebrows, Jordan replied, “You weren't complaining about how I shave the other night in the gardens. In fact, I remember you enjoying the way my face—”

“What makes you so sure I enjoyed kissing you?” she challenged.

Amusement gleamed in his sable eyes. “If there is one thing I know, it's when a woman is turned on.”

“Turned on?” she forced a laugh. “You give yourself way too much credit.”

“Are you denying it?”

She blinked. “Yes,” she sputtered, indignant.

“You really are a lousy liar.” He winked at her.

Christian pushed her plate back. “And you have to be the most arrogant man I've ever met.”

“Flattery will get you everywhere with me.”

She tossed up her hands. “You're impossible.”

“It still doesn't change the fact that you lied. You
were
turned on that night, whether you want to admit it or not.”

“I thought you were Malcolm.”

“If that's the way you kiss a man you're trying to break up with, I would love to experience how you kiss a man you want to marry.”

“Well, you'll never know.”

Jordan's brows lifted. “Sounds like a challenge?”

After dinner, Jordan pushed back in his chair. “I'm stuffed.” He glanced across the table and watched as Christian took the last bite of her strawberry cheesecake. “I sure would like to know where you put all of that,” he said shaking his head.

She smiled. “My grandmother used to tease me and say I had a tapeworm.”

“I'm almost ready to agree with her. But I suppose a hearty appetite is a good sign in a woman.”

She wiped the corners of her mouth with her napkin, irritated by his audacious manner. “You need to get your mind out of the gutter.”

“What did I say?” he asked innocently.

She shook her head. “Maybe you should get out of the computer business and go into acting.”

“Nah, I wouldn't dream of it. I love what I do.”

“What's the name of your company?” she asked.

“Ah, so you are curious about me.” He smiled. “J.W. Enterprises. We're a software company.”

“That's a far cry from what you used to do at Opulence.”

“True, but this is what I really want to do with my life. I'm fascinated with developing and designing programs.”

“How long have you been doing this?”

“A few years, actually. At first I would do small projects for friends.” Reflecting over his meager beginning, he shook his head at the extremes he had taken to keep his father ignorant of his progress.

Christian drained the rest of her drink, while watching the series of emotions cross his features. “So, have you officially quit Opulence?”

He expelled a loud sigh and tossed his dinner napkin onto his empty plate. “Yes I have. I made the announcement to my father the other night.”

“I take it, it didn't go well?”

“I'd rather have had my appendix taken out.”

“I'm sorry.”

His smile lacked authenticity. “There's nothing to be sorry about. I made the right decision.”

“Then good for you.”

Suddenly, Jordan's melancholy disappeared. “Now that I've answered your questions. It's my turn to ask a few.”

Christian laughed. “I guess that's only fair.”

“Let's start off with something simple. What was your major at GSU?”

“Journalism.”

“Ah, you're a writer then?”

“I try to be.”

“I guess one day I'll turn on the television and see you with Barbara Walters?”

“No, I don't think so. I don't want to go into news reporting.”

Jordan laughed and shook his head. “Don't tell me you're going to be another one of those college grads who wastes money for a degree that they'll never use.”