Sparring Partners (37 page)

It was a calculated risk. One he didn't
really want to take, but part of him couldn't let her go, a part of
him that had nothing to do with Takahara or deal making or running
B.H. He ignored the reasons and focused on the objective. That
approach had propelled him upward for over a decade, no sense
abandoning it now. Not with so much at stake.

Reed let go of the doorknob and turned.

"Do you mean it?"

Did he?

"Yes."

...

What was she supposed to say now? Reed knew
how much this weekend meant to Jordon. He hadn't been up front with
her about just how big a deal this thing with Mr. Takahara was for
his professional future, but William filled in some of the pieces.
Reed got the feeling she was still missing the big pieces, and just
why it was so important to him, but she didn't want to be the
reason Jordon flushed it all away. He'd only resent her for it, and
she knew enough about resentment to know the irreparable damage it
could cause if left to fester.

Guilt, and the enormity of what she would
cost him and herself if she made him chose, washed through Reed
like whisky on an empty stomach, burning hot and threatening to
come back up even hotter.

"I don't want you to leave." She said,
holding out her hand to him. "I don't want to leave. I'll always
support you and your ideas when you're right. William tells me this
deal with Mr. Takahara has been over a year in the making, and that
you've devoted all your efforts to it. He says you're the best at
what you do, and sometimes being the best takes all you have to
give."

Jordon's expression turned from relieved to
sardonic. His eyes narrowed and one corner of his mouth cocked up
in what she'd come to realize was anything but a smile.

"He said all that, did he?"

"Yes. He made it quite clear how important
this deal is to you, and that I could either help you or I could
hurt you. I don't want to hurt you or your chances at this deal.
It's obviously important or we wouldn't be here." Reed looked down,
sucked back the bile and opened her heart.

"I'm stubborn, I lose my temper easily, and
I rarely apologize. I'm even unforgiving and sometimes downright
rude. And tonight, I set you up to have to make a choice I have no
intention of asking you to make." Reed laughed at herself and the
sound hurt her ears.

"I was jealous of some stupid deal. I
actually thought it meant more to you than I do. I'm sorry. Forgive
me."

She was engulfed in Jordon's arms before she
finished her sentence. Reed didn't realize she was crying until
Jordon wiped away her tears. Looking into his deep golden-green
specked eyes, seeing the sheer beauty of the man inside and out,
Reed wondered how she could ever have thought of walking away. She
loved him. It was that simple and that complex. And, she never
wanted to let him go.

"Let's go to bed." He said.

Reed didn't trust herself to speak without
crying like a baby. She curled her head into his strong neck and
simply nodded.

CHAPTER FIFTY

FEAR

Everyone can see how they have polished the
mirror

of the self, which is done with the
longings

we're given.

Not everyone wants to be king!

There are different roles and many
choices

within each.

Troubles come. One person packs up

and another leaves. Another stays and deepens
in a love

for being human.

In battle, one runs fearing

for his life. Another, just as scared,
turns

and fights more fiercely.

Rumi, 12th Century

Jordon carried Reed back to the yellow
bedroom she loved, the first time she saw it, her heart was
fluttering in her chest, her breathing shallow. It was always like
this when fear took her. She needed to concentrate and breathe
deeply, willing her heart to slow, to beat fully, allowing blood to
flow strongly and freely to her brain and throughout her body.

She didn't always think clearly around
Jordon.

Sometimes she didn't think at all, she only
felt, and that scared her even more than the fact that he held her
heart. She didn't stop herself from turning and tasting his skin,
licking the salt, savoring this part of him he shared so freely
with her. It was one part of who they were together that she never
doubted. Unfortunately for her, she'd never been able to
compartmentalize sex the way Finn was able to do. For her, when she
shared her body she shared a piece of her soul and a good chunk of
her heart.

With Jordon, she hadn't been so reserved.
She'd opened up and gave him everything she had, only now was she
realizing she had hidden reservoirs of raw emotion she'd
inadvertently allowed him access to.

She'd given him the knife to slice her heart
from her chest.

A sudden image of Jordon wearing a hockey
mask and brandishing a machete flashed through her blood starved
brain. Reed didn't know whether to laugh or cry or scream for help,
so she decided to throw herself into the firestorm of passion she
felt for him instead.

"I love the way you taste." Reed licked
behind Jordon's ear as she allowed her hand to explore his chest
through his soft, yet perfectly pleated, shirt. Everything about
Jordon radiated strength, beauty, and the kind of male
self-confidence that appealed to her inner cave-woman, without the
empty arrogance some men pass off as masculinity.

Jordon captured her hand, stilling her
exploration. "I have something important I need to talk to you
about. Something I want to give you."

He flashed her the slow grin that showed the
slashes at the side of his mouth. She noticed he didn't share that
particular smile with anyone else. That, and the twinkle in his
moss studded liquid gold eyes, strummed through her like warm
Drambuie. Suddenly she wasn't scared anymore.

Jordon stopped at the door to look at her.
"What did I say to merit that smile?" He asked, opening the door.
He walked in, set her down on her feet next their bed. "You
look...hungry."

Reed threw her arms as far around his neck
as she was able to, smiling up at him, letting herself enjoy this
part of being with him.

"I am. And you can feed me chocolate,
pretzels, and Drambuie if you can scare some up." She turned and
presented him with her back. "After you help me get out of this
dress. After you lay me down and make love to me. After you tell me
whatever it is you want to tell me, and give me whatever it is you
need to give me."

She felt the stillness behind her.
Uncertainty hung in the air, palpable. His hesitancy cooled her
heat, allowing fear to creep slowly down her spine again. And then,
she heard the slow hiss of her zipper as the air-conditioned air
hit the small of her back, cooling and heating her insides at the
same time.

"Who am I to disappoint a lady? Especially
when she's the only lady in my universe."

...

Where did those words come from?

Jordon resisted the urge to look behind him
when he knew damned well the room was empty, except for Reed, who
wasn't wearing a bra under the skintight, sleeveless, sequined top
of her dress.

How did those ridiculous words get past his
internal filter? There were lots of women in his universe. His
mother, Irma, who managed to grouch her way under his skin, Finn,
and even the evil Giselle. Jordon had plenty of women in his
universe.

Just because he didn't want to sink inside
any of them, much less marry any of them, didn't mean they didn't
exist. Jeeze. What was happening to him anyway? He used to have a
sense of decorum. He used to sound like an adult, not an idiot.

The look on his elf's face, as she turned to
him and stepped out of her dress, stopped his self-flagellation mid
stroke of a lash. He hadn't seen that particular pair of panties
before. They framed, more than they covered, with lace and damp
peach colored silk.

His subconscious seemed to know more about
women than he did, at least about this woman, because everything in
her expression, and the way she held herself proud and inviting
before him, screamed not only her acceptance, but the pleasure she
took from moments like these that they shared. They'd gotten easier
and more intense since the first time she came to him by the pond,
under the willow tree.

If he closed his eyes, Jordon could still
see her coming to him on her knees, could still taste her on his
tongue.

He picked her up again and lowered her
gently to the bed where she watched him disrobe, the small box in
his pocket momentarily forgotten. He stood before her naked, not
just nude, willing her to see all of him.

"Do you love me?" He asked.

"You know I do."

He did, but that didn't stop him from
feeling relieved by her quick response.

"Do you trust me?"

She stopped rubbing her feet against the
satin bed cover and sat up at his question. Her shoulders tensed
and her body appeared to turn in on itself.

"What do you mean?" She asked
hesitantly.

"Don't play the lawyer game with me. Not
now, Elf. No diversion by redirection or obfuscation. I need an
answer." He swallowed past the thickness in his throat and felt his
erection begin to wither. He asked again.

"Do you trust me?"

Again her hesitation stung. She wasn't
rejecting his love, or his body, she was simply puzzled and
confused by his question. She moved toward him but didn't stand.
Reed couldn't reach him from the bed, and Jordon didn't come any
closer. He didn't back away either. He just stood there, open, with
the fear of a warrior who'd fight a battle already lost,
sacrificing himself piece by torn piece, refusing to abandon the
battlefield.

"I'm not sure what you want from me." She
said.

Jordon forced the bile back down his throat
and took a deep breath, tightly controlling his voice to keep it
neutral and calm when all he wanted to do was scream and shake her.
That probably wasn't the best way to gain her trust.

"It's a simple question, Reed. Answer
it."

Reed stood, but she didn't reach for him
again.

"I trust you with my life. With my son's
life. With Potters Woods." She looked down and he waited for the
big 'but'. The air was ominously heavy with it. "I'm not sure I
should trust you with my heart."

There were unshed tears in her brilliant
blue-gray eyes when she met his gaze full on. "I'm not sure I could
take it if you broke what's left of it."

Something in her tone eased the death grip
some invisible hand from hell had on his heart, and his hands
uncurled at his sides.

"For a smart lady, you sure have trouble
getting the question right. I didn't ask what you should do or what
you think you can or cannot take. I asked if you trust me, I'm
asking you to trust me. Can you, will you, trust me? Loving me
isn't enough anymore, not if we're going to make it through the
rest of this weekend, the rest of our lives, together. If we're
going to do that, I need you to trust me. No questions. No
guarantees."

He'd done billion dollar deals on a hell of
a lot less. Certainly with fewer words, and less effort at
convincing.

Reed rolled her shoulders back, lifted her
chin, and narrowed her eyes. "That's a pretty tall order for
someone who trusts no one but Henry."

"I trust you, Reed. I made that decision
before I asked you to marry me. I didn't love you yet, but I
trusted you."

"And now?"

"I see to your soul. I trust you with all I
have. If I didn't, this conversation wouldn't be so damned
important or so painful for me."

"Painful?"

He laughed without mirth. "Like pulling
teeth with a greasy pliers."

She took a step toward him, small and
hesitant, but a step nonetheless. A sparkle lit her eyes and the
whisper of tears glazing them earlier retreated. "Are you afraid of
me, Jordon?"

"Damn straight. You're the scariest woman I
know."

"Then you don't trust me. Not totally."

"I do."

"Then what's there to fear?"

"That everything real about me will wither
and die if I don't live up to the version of me you've made up and
sprinkled with fairy dust." That was a little more poetic and a
little less sarcastic in his head than in the delivery. Jordon
winced inwardly, but held his ground. He wasn't the man she thought
he was, and what scared him more than anything else, including
being penniless, was that he didn't have it in him to be that man.
He feared that he'd keep faking it, and keep fucking it up, until
she finally had one too many disappointments and left him.

"I know exactly who you are, Jordon, and I'm
fresh out of fairy dust. I see you clearly." She took another step
forward. "I love you and I...

"...Ouch." She took another step forward and
stepped on the small box containing his great-grandmother Bennett's
engagement ring, in its original, and hopefully unmangled, box.
"What have you got in your pockets? Rocks?"

Well, yeah, actually. About three carats
worth.

"Finish your sentence, Elf or I'll get the
pliers myself."

"I love you and I trust you."

About fucking time.

"What?"

Did he really say that out loud? She had him
tripping all over himself, and he was so relieved by her answer he
couldn't bring himself to care.

Jordon dropped to the floor, kneeing over
his tuxedo pants. "I said, I've been plucking dimes."

"Plucking dimes?" She echoed, shaking her
head.

"Never mind." Jordon found the velvet
wrapped box that thankfully was made from steel, and still in
working order. He wrapped his fist around it and quickly stood.