What would Camila have thought about the attraction between her stepdaughter and Xavier?
He was her son.
Jordan imagined Ellie would have a ready answer for that too: So what? He’s not your brother!
And hadn’t Xavier made that same point with devastating effect yesterday?
She rubbed her fingers over her forehead. A week ago she hadn’t thought sexual chemistry was really a thing. Now she knew better. But why couldn’t she have made the discovery with a different man?
Why this man?
Her temples started to throb.
Was this powerful, overwhelming attraction a purely physical thing? Was it only Xavier’s sublime good looks and potent masculinity that drew her? Or was it something else? Was a part of her subconsciously looking for a deeper connection with him because he was a living, breathing link to Camila, whom she missed desperately?
Good grief. Now she was really overthinking things!
She groaned inwardly.
Or maybe she groaned aloud, because in her peripheral vision she saw Xavier move, then felt his hands curl gently over her shoulders from behind.
His touch set her pulse racing, as always, and yet there was something oddly grounding in the warmth and strength of those big, capable hands and the sense of his solid body behind her.
She felt his breath stir her hair as he spoke.
‘I’d like to spend more time with you, Jordan.’
She swallowed. Was that code for I want us to have sex? She didn’t know. She’d never been in this sort of situation before. Was there an etiquette? If there was, Xavier would know. Didn’t wealthy men change their women as frequently as they changed their suits?
There was a silence, and then she heard him sigh. His hands tightened a little on her shoulders, and his voice lowered to a deep husk.
‘I want you, Jordan. I can’t deny that—not after what just happened on that sofa. We have a powerful chemistry, and I don’t believe you want to walk away from it any more than I do right now.’
His candour shocked her, and yet his willingness to offer up such blunt honesty spoke to something inside her. Lent her the courage to offer some plain-spoken words of her own.
She turned, dislodging his hands from her shoulders in the process, and looked up at him. ‘You accused me of running away today, and I suppose I was, in a way. After last night, by the pool...’ She hitched a shoulder. ‘I was embarrassed—and confused. You kissed me, Xavier, and then you rejected me. How was I supposed to feel? I thought I was doing us both a favour by leaving. I didn’t mean to offend you or to seem ungrateful.’
She took a breath. Even her neck and the tips of her ears burned now, so she knew her blush was scarlet. But she forced herself to continue.
‘Last night you said kissing me had been a mistake and now you’re saying you were wrong... So I think maybe...even though you didn’t do it in the nicest way...you were trying to do the right thing last night and be honourable, because you thought doing anything else would be taking advantage of me...’
Oh, God. Was she making any sense? Or just making a fool of herself?
She gulped in another lungful of air. Her heart pounded so hard she could hear the blood rushing in her ears. ‘But now that we’ve...’
She flapped her hand in the general direction of the sofa, and Xavier lifted an eyebrow.
‘Been intimate?’
More precisely she’d been thinking he’d given her the most amazing orgasm of her life. She decided to keep that to herself. ‘Yes, now that we’ve done that...’ And now she really had to screw up her courage, because she’d never had a conversation quite like this in her life, and the enigmatic look on Xavier’s face gave her no clue what he was thinking. ‘You’re right. I don’t think I want to walk away just yet.’
Because she was pretty sure that what she’d be walking away from was wild, passionate sex the likes of which she’d never experienced before and might never experience again.
Ellie was right. Life was unpredictable. Short. And too often filled with suffering and pain. She’d seen people lose loved ones and her empathy was strong, because she herself was intimately acquainted with that kind of loss. Her dad had died unexpectedly. And then had come Camila’s illness and eventual passing... Towards the end there’d been days with Camila that had been harrowing and heartbreaking. Even now there were days when she woke and her stomach felt knotted, her chest tight.
But the woman who had sat on Xavier’s lap a short while ago, who’d loosened her hair and daringly removed her bra—that woman hadn’t felt pain, or grief, or loneliness. She’d felt only pleasure and excitement and the heady, delicious thrill of anticipation.
For just a few short days Jordan wanted to feel that—and more.