Sparring Partners (11 page)

"You were watching?" Jordon asked.

Since his friend and boss sounded like he
was contemplating murder, Henry didn't torture him further. "No.
Didn't need to. That bulge in your shirt and the way you keep
touching it says she let you have it. It doesn't take a security
expert to tell she didn't just hand it to you with a big kiss,
she's more the kind of woman to throw it in your face. If I were a
woman, that's what I'd do. I'd lose it before she sees how much you
like her perfume."

"She doesn't wear perfume."

"Then why are you keeping her shirt?"

"You're a smart ass this morning. Did you
just get laid?"

Henry laughed. "Not quite. But hope springs
eternal. Bet you a Snickers bar I get lucky before you do."

Jordon nodded toward Henry's candy once
again ignoring answering his question.

"I hope your teeth fall out from eating that
crap."

"Is that a bet?"

"What are you, sixteen?"

"Only in my heart."

"I'm beginning to wonder why I keep you
around, Henry."

"I'm your best friend. You love me. I keep
you safe. And, my all time favorite, I keep that head of yours from
exploding with thoughts of how great you are. Not to mention,
you're such a pain in the ass no one else would stick around." That
didn't even get a rise out of Jordon like it usually would. Damn
William for putting Jordon through this.

"You gotta work on your game with Reed. It
sucks. She's not going to ooh and aah over you just because you
drop ten grand on dinner and a show. She's not like those women who
know the score with you."

Jordon sat down on one of the wood and metal
benches that populated the patio and rubbed his hands over his
whiskers. The bench he chose just happened to be directly under
Reed's bedroom window. Jordon didn't seem to notice, Henry was too
pleased not to.

Henry looked at his friend and couldn't help
worrying. Jordon looked tired and more stressed now by William's
stupid dictate than he had been the day William gave it, two and a
half days ago. Sometimes Henry wanted to shoot William and put an
end to the man's never ending tests for good.

The only problem with that course of action
was William's track record. He always had a reason for what he did,
and, in Henry's experience, William turned out to be right every
damned time when all was said and done. Still, Henry would find a
way to off the old bastard if he wasn't sure that William loved
Jordon almost as much as he loved Jordon's widowed mother.

"What the hell am I going to do, Henry?"
Jordon asked, running both hands through his overly long hair. "I
really screwed the pooch this time."

"What do you want to do? Seems to me you've
got enough salted away to give William and B.H. a run for their
money. You could start your own investment firm. You don't need to
take over B.H. when William retires."

The look Jordon gave Henry made his heart
squeeze. "Yes, I do. The knowledge that I'd be running B.H. one day
is the only thing that kept me sane after Emily died."

Jordon's voice cracked when he said his
infant daughter's name. More than a decade and a half had passed
since Henry stood beside Jordon as the tiny casket was lowered into
the ground. The pain in Jordon didn't seem to lessen over time.
Henry knew Jordon channeled all the pain he felt into taking over
B.H., that in the beginning it was what kept him alive.

"There's more to it than that, Henry.
Emily's death fueled me for the first few years. Work was the only
thing that killed the pain, then. Now, it's more than that. I love
what I do. We keep people working, Henry. That means something to
me. That's my way of making a difference. Even if I took every
penny I have and started my own investment company tomorrow, I
wouldn't be where B.H. is today until I'm seventy, maybe
seventy-five. And only then if I'm very lucky."

Henry stared straight ahead, not saying
anything. Jordon didn't usually speak so plainly and Henry didn't
want to interrupt.

"With the market the way it is today, I
wouldn't have the backers to do the kind of work William's doing.
They'd go with B.H., it's a known, profitable commodity in good
times and in bad. There would be no reason to invest with me as
long as William continues to run B.H. effectively. I can do the
most good at B.H. William knows it. I know it. There is no
choice."

William wasn't just threatening to take away
Jordon's job, he was threatening Jordon's identity.

Henry saw a shadow move in Reed's room and
wondered just how long she'd been up there listening. The window
leading to her small balcony was wide open and the form he saw
through the curtains was definitely elf-size. Thank God for nosy
women, he thought, smiling. With a push or two in the right
direction there might be hope for Jordon's marriage, if the man
could control his emotions long enough to stop pushing Reed
away.

"Tell me about Reed. Why did you fly off so
fast and marry her?"

"You know why."

"No, I don't. You could have found someone
more willing to work with you. She doesn't even know yet just how
much you need her." Henry hoped he wasn't laying it on too thick,
but the clock was ticking and Jordon's usual ease with women had
completely deserted him.

"She doesn't know. I've been trying to
figure a way to tell her all morning."

"So why pick a fight over a shirt?"

"Damn it Henry. Lay off already. I know it
was a dumb-ass thing to do. I admit okay. If I could undo it, I
would."

"What made you do it?" Henry prodded.

"Henry, I need your help here, not your
crap."

"Then answer the question."

"Which one?"

"Take your pick."

"Okay, fine. I chose Reed because I like
her. She's smart. She's funny. She's loyal to her family, I saw
that clearly at the museum. She doesn't tear up every time I raise
my voice or say something that isn't perfect. And when I asked her
to marry me and she said yes I felt powerful, complete. There's
just something about her that calls to me. I can't explain it any
better."

"So why embarrass her?"

Jordon stood up and began to pace. "I wasn't
trying to embarrass her. It just sort of happened. First she
flirted with you, then I saw her wearing that shirt with another
man's name on it. I don't know why Henry. I just snapped."

"I've never seen you 'snap' with a woman
before."

Jordon made a sound that wasn't quite a
laugh and kept on pacing. "Apparently losing it doesn't require
practice. It's easy to get right the first time."

"So why keep the shirt?"

"Henry we've been over this. I swear to God
if you don't leave it alone we'll get some sparring practice done
right here. You'll be picking gravel out of your skin the rest of
the day."

"Going all caveman didn't get you very far
with Reed. I'm trying to help you here." Henry said, hoping Reed
could hear them.

"You could always petition to get the
marriage annulled. You could find someone to take her place in
enough time if you pushed the issue. Give the shirt back, keep your
bags in the van, and let's go home."

"No."

Henry's gaze shifted from Reed's window back
to Jordon who continued to wear out his shoes on the concrete
patio. When Jordon was alone with only Henry and he wanted to
think, he paced until his head cleared. When he negotiated a deal,
whether it was on the golf course or in the boardroom or over the
phone, Jordon remained as still as his environment would allow. No
emotion crept into his voice and no unnecessary movement took away
from his absolute concentration. Henry waited him out, knowing
Jordon would work through it in his own good time.

"I don't want my marriage annulled. There
aren't any grounds. We did sleep together. Not enough, but once is
all it takes. I want to keep her, Henry. I want her back in my bed.
Divorce or annulment isn't going to further either cause."

"Okay. Now we're getting somewhere. You know
you don't want an annulment. You know you like her. You know you
want her. What else do you know?"

Jordon stopped pacing. "I know I'd like to
take her over my knee for being so damned stubborn. Then, I'd like
to lock her in the bedroom until I can forget about William and
B.H. for a while. Three or four weeks ought to do for a start. I
know I'd like to see you with two black eyes. My elf wouldn't think
you were so studly then."

Henry got up and slapped Jordon's shoulder a
little harder than he would with any other man. "I don't know about
that. Chicks dig scars and black eyes. Gives them something to kiss
as they
ooh
and
ahh
over how stud-like you are."

Jordon punched him in the solar plexus. Not
hard enough to do any real damage but hard enough to take Henry's
breath. "Reed Bennett is no chick. She's my wife. And as long as
she is, the only stud she's going to be kissing is me."

Henry straightened, rubbing between his
upper ribs. "You'd better convince her of that. Clock's
ticking."

Henry looked up at Reed's window as Jordon
spun and walked away. Behind the sheer curtain swaying lightly in
the summer morning breeze, the elf-sized silhouette was still
visible. Henry smiled to himself hoping the stinging in his abdomen
was worth it.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Let the lover be disgraceful, crazy,

absentminded. Someone sober

will worry about things going badly.

Let the lover be.

Rumi~ 13th Century

He kept her tank top, close to his skin.

Reed watched Jordon pull it out of his shirt
after he hit Henry. He held it to his face before it disappeared
again inside his shirt.

He likes me and wants to keep me
.

Reed didn't much care for the way he phrased
it, like she was a used car or a stray dog, but his desire seemed
genuine enough. Her desire for him certainly was. If she'd been
honest with him, instead of reacting like a wet cat every time he
said something she didn't like, he'd know she wanted to keep him
too, maybe not in her home or in the dojo but somewhere close.

Now who sounds like she's collecting
strays with flees
?

Reed flushed, uncomfortable with the jumbled
mess of thoughts vying for dominance in her head. She was ashamed
of the lie she'd screamed at him, she knew she shouldn't have said
it as it was coming out of her mouth, she just couldn't seem to
help herself. And now she had to fix it.

She
did
like him. She liked him since
she saw him pinching the bridge of his nose after getting hit by
the glass door Jesse threw open in the art museum. He could have
yelled or thrown a fit, but he didn't. He could have made Jesse
feel badly for still being the awkward teenager he was, but he
didn't. He'd been calm in the face of her rudeness and he'd been
charming at dinner. He didn't even complain when she had her foot
to his throat after she dropped him on the dojo floor, or later
when she heard the men's laughter from the locker room after they
found out he married her. And perhaps most telling of all, Jordon
didn't laugh at the thought of having her as a wife, for which she
was profoundly grateful.

She liked him alright. He'd seen into her
soul and he hadn't run away. And she threw a shirt at his head.

He wants to stay
.

Reed knew she'd given him more than enough
reason to leave, and yet he didn't. He chose to stick around in
spite of the fact that he loved someone else, even though that
someone was dead.

Emily
.

The pain in Jordon's voice when he spoke
Emily's name, coupled with the despair clearly etched in every line
on his handsome face, told Reed all she needed to know about how
deeply this man could love. No one had ever loved her like that,
and oh how she wanted to experience it, even if it was just for a
little while. Maybe with Jordon she could pretend love like that
was possible and could last a lifetime. She was willing to try.

She and Jordon were more alike than his over
priced shoes and macho demeanor suggested. They both were scarred
by past losses. They both turned to martial arts to help exorcize
the pain and stayed with it long enough that it became not
something they did as much as a vital part of who they were. Not a
bad foundation on which to build.

Henry said Jordon needed her. Maybe she
needed him too.

Reed turned to her closet, pulled out the
one frilly dress she owned, and threw it on her bed on her way to
the shower. She wanted to look like a girl for the apology she had
in mind.

...

Jordon heard Reed coming, she wasn't very
good at walking silently through the woods. So much for the wood
elf theory. The cadence of her step indicated she was a woman on a
mission without a care for how much energy she expended
accomplishing it. Jordon was learning to judge her mood by the way
she moved.

He would have known she was near even
without the noise she made with every determined step. She couldn't
mask her scent. He'd know her even if she came to him silently in
the dark. All he had to do was taste the air and know she was with
him.

"I'm keeping the shirt." He said, alerting
her to the fact that he knew she was behind him.

"I'd have given it to you if you'd asked
nicely."

Jordon turned around and looked at her.
She'd showered and lost what was left of her pajamas. She was
wearing a sleeveless summer dress that tied in back, tennis shoes
with no socks and a straw hat. It was decidedly more feminine than
anything else he'd seen her in, including the dress she wore to
their five minute wedding.

"Liar."

She came within a foot of him and stopped.
Her soap and flowers scent teased him, but he didn't bridge the gap
between them. He needed her to come to him. What happened next was
up to her. He'd done enough demanding for one day.