“Considering you’re the only fake boyfriend I’ve ever had, yes,” she panted. When he waited for her to say more, she put on her best innocent face and tried to sound nonchalant. “What? You told me to make it look good, so I did.”
Nick’s phone rang from inside his coat, interrupting them.
WITH THE DISTRACTION of the ringing phone, Jordan slid out from under Nick’s arms and walked into the kitchen. He watched her leave, noticing that she touched her fingers to her lips as she turned the corner. He could still feel his own lips there, could still taste the intoxicating flavor of her. He might’ve known zilch about cabernet, pinot, and all the other wine varietals, but her kiss was something he’d have no problem describing: luscious, rich, and tantalizing.
His phone rang again.
Right, he had work to do. A minor undercover assignment he was supposed to be focusing on. He pulled his phone out and saw that it was Pallas calling. “We’re back at Jordan’s house,” he answered. Thank God the microphone taped to his chest was well out of range of the receiver, or the guys in the van would’ve gotten an earful moments ago. “Tell me everything.”
As Pallas filled him in on the details of the conversation they’d intercepted between Eckhart and Mercks, Nick slid off his coat, loosened his tie, and unbuttoned his shirt. He ripped the microphone and tape off his chest. “We were followed here by a black sedan,” he said after Jack finished. “I wasn’t able to get a look at the driver. Are you still in the van?”
“I left Reed and Jansen there. I just arrived at the office, and we’re working up a full profile for you as we speak,” Jack said. “Davis is on his way. He wants you to call in.”
Thirty seconds later, Nick had his boss on the line.
“Pallas filled me in on everything,” Davis said. “I’m still trying to decide who’s going on my shit list for this mess.”
“Xander Eckhart is at the top of mine,” Nick said.
“Well, I can’t yell at him,” Davis grumbled. “How about Huxley? He’s been working this up for months; he’s the one who picked Jordan Rhodes. A heads-up that there’s a romantic connection between her and Eckhart would’ve been appreciated.”
“There’s no romantic connection,” Nick said. “Don’t blame it on Huxley—we had no way of knowing this was going to happen.”
“You know what it means now that Eckhart has someone following you.”
Yes, he did. Nick had known what it meant the moment Pallas had called him at Eckhart’s party. “It means that I’ll be playing the part of Nick Stanton longer than expected.”
Davis paused. “Obviously, you can’t go to New York tomorrow.”
Nick pinched between his eyes. “I know.”
“I’m really sorry, Nick. I roped you into this and now you won’t be able to make your mother’s party.”
“It comes with the job. You know that, Mike—you did this for years.”
“I did. And I also know that after a while, it takes its toll. Six years of nearly back-to-back undercover assignments is a long time. If you weren’t so good at it, I would’ve reassigned you already.”
But he was good at it. Nick changed the subject. “What do we know about this Mercks guy Eckhart has following us?”
“We ran a background check and cross-referenced him in our database. He owns a private investigation firm in the Loop. Seems to have a lot of wealthy clientele.”
“Any connections to Roberto Martino?”
“None that we’ve found. He might be nosy and highly inconvenient, but I don’t think he poses any threat.”
Nick was relieved to hear that. That last thing he’d wanted was anyone connected to Roberto Martino camped outside Jordan’s house.
“There’s one final matter we need to discuss,” Davis said.
“Jordan.”
“You understand what this development with Eckhart means in terms of her continued involvement in the investigation?” Davis asked.
“Yes.”
“Does she?”
“Not yet,” Nick said. “I’ll explain everything to her as soon as we hang up.”
“She’s not going to like it.”
No, she isn’t. And it wasn’t exactly a conversation Nick looked forward to, but he had a job to do and this was part of it. He and Davis discussed a few outstanding matters related to the investigation, his boss wanting to be certain they were on the same page. Then Nick hung up and went into the kitchen, ready to be the bearer of bad news.
Fourteen
JORDAN STOOD AT the counter while she waited, checking her e-mail on her iPhone. She did this more out of habit than interest, since the only person she wanted to hear anything from right then was Nick.
She set the phone off to the side when he walked into the kitchen. Her eyes lingered momentarily on the shirt buttons he’d undone at his throat. He’d loosened his tie, too, and wore the shirt casually open-necked, giving her a peek of smooth, tan skin.
She refocused. Bad guys outside her house. Not good. “Now can you tell me what’s going on?”
“Your friend Xander is causing all sorts of problems.” Nick told her about the private investigator Eckhart had hired to follow him.
Jordan sank into one of the bar stools. “I just assumed Xander was flirting with me, like he does with everyone else. I didn’t think he was actually serious. In my defense, the entire time I’ve known him, he’s never dated any woman over the age of twenty-five. I assumed that was some kind of rule of his.”