She definitely was ready for Napa.
When the elevator arrived at her floor, she stepped out and spotted her car. She stopped in surprise when she saw Nick leaning against the Maserati, waiting for her.
Her heart skipped a beat.
An interesting fact, because she wasn’t typically a heartbeat-skipping kind of girl.
“I didn’t expect to see you here,” she said.
He watched her approach. “I couldn’t leave things the way they were between us. Hopefully you don’t think I’m that big of an ass**le.”
Actually, she didn’t think he was an ass**le at all. She stepped closer. “You must be freezing from standing out here,” she said softly.
He gestured to his car. “I’ve only been here for about a minute. I got out of my car when I saw the elevator coming up. Can we talk?”
Jordan pushed the unlock button on her key, and the Maserati’s headlights blinked. “Have a seat.” She walked around and slid into the driver’s side of the car. Nick climbed into the passenger seat, his long legs and tall frame filling the space next to her.
She started the car and turned on the seat warmers—his first, then hers. He appeared both amused and touched by the gesture. “Thank you.”
Warm air blasted all around them as the heat kicked in.
Jordan angled herself in the seat and, without saying a word, leaned forward to kiss him. A long, deep kiss.
“That was for what you did for my brother,” she said when she pulled back.
His eyes shone like emeralds. “I told you I’d get him out of prison. It just took some creativity.”
“But you didn’t have to send him the clothes. That meant a lot to Kyle.”
Nick ran a finger along her cheek, his voice husky. “We both know I didn’t do it for Kyle.”
She did know that. She slid her hands inside his coat and shifted closer to the warmth that radiated from him. “So tell me this, Nick McCall. Where do we go from here?”
Nick had been asking himself that very question all night. He went with the truth. “I have no idea.” He tilted her chin up, wanting to look her in the eyes when he said this. “You know that my job makes things complicated. You’ve seen it firsthand. I go from identity to identity—gone on assignment for weeks and months at a time.”
Jordan paused. “And?”
He cocked his head, not following her. “And . . . that’s what makes things so complicated.”
“No, I get that part. I’m just waiting for the rest. According to Lisa, you’re supposed to give me this whole long speech. I’ve been feeling a little left out.”
He chucked her under the chin. Smart-ass. “You’re not getting the same speech everyone else does.”
“Oh.” She smiled, looking extremely pleased. “Good.”
“That still doesn’t tell us where we go from here.”
Jordan sat back and stared at him for a long moment, as if debating something. “I’m going to Napa tomorrow, for the weekend. You could come with me.” She raised an eyebrow. “It even works with your character. Nick Stanton would never let his girlfriend go to such a romantic place alone.”
Now it was Nick’s turn to fall silent. Not because he wasn’t tempted as hell by the offer—but there was something else. “I don’t know what you’re really asking me here,” he said candidly.
She considered this. “For now, I’m just asking if you want to spend the weekend with me in Napa.”
An entire weekend alone with her. In a hotel room. Christ, he got hard just thinking about it. “A man would have to be a saint not to be tempted by that offer, Rhodes.”
Sensing his hesitation, Jordan rested her elbow against the smooth, tan Italian leather of her seat. “I’m a big girl, Nick. And I’ve been fully briefed on your ‘issues’ with relationships, so you can consider me duly warned.” She grinned mischievously. “Frankly, I don’t think it’ll matter. There’s at least a fifty percent chance you’ll annoy me so much on this trip that I’ll be glad to see you go afterward.”
Nick laughed at that and hooked his finger into her coat. He pulled her closer. “And if by some miracle I fail to accomplish that?”
Her voice was low and throaty, anticipating his kiss. “Then we’ll deal with that when we get there.”
Something in Nick’s chest pulled tight. Xander Eckhart had been right about one thing: Jordan Rhodes was out of his league. Hell, she was out of everyone’s league.
The aforementioned saint would probably walk away, knowing that a man with a job like his had no business getting in deeper with a woman like her. Because a saint would also know that whatever he could give Jordan, she would always deserve more.
So call him a devil. Because walking away from her right then was not something he could do. Instead, he slanted his mouth over hers, taking his time with this kiss. No need to rush now—starting tomorrow, she was his for two nights. Days, too. The possibilities . . .
“I should mention one thing,” Jordan said.
“Hmm?” he said distractedly. His mouth broke away from hers to trail a path along her throat. The hell with wine—she reminded him instead of the smoothest, richest bourbon he’d ever tasted. And she was definitely making him burn.
“This is a business trip for me,” she continued. “So you’ll have to go to some wine tastings.”