Tehya’s gaze narrowed on the couple as Journey rose to her feet with a small sigh of resignation. “Perhaps we’ll have a chance to discuss clothing designs later.” The unconscious wariness that descended over her worried Tehya now. “Good evening, Miss Johnson.”
“Miss Taite,” Tehya murmured as the couple moved off.
Grant’s hand settled at Journey’s lower back in a gesture of possessiveness and control that had immediately set off warning bells in Tehya’s mind.
He was too dark, too dangerous, and much too experienced for the demure child Journey still was in so many ways.
As she stood, Jordan moved beside her, his progress from the bar and the group of men he had been talking to made with deceptive laziness. He had been waiting for the other two to walk away.
“Interesting,” he murmured. “I personally would have chosen someone much lighter natured for my daughter if I were her father.”
Tehya turned and stared back at him in confusion. “Meaning?”
“Rumor is circulating tonight that her father and Mr. Grant have come to an agreement concerning various interests in exchange for Craig’s approval and subsequent agreement to force Journey into marrying him. An arranged marriage, I believe it was once called.” His icy gaze held hers. “What are his chances of forcing her into it?”
Tehya sighed heavily. “Excellent. Journey hasn’t developed the strength to fight against her father yet. Hell, he still controls damned near every aspect of her life that he’s aware of, to the point that she’s hiding the fact that she’s working.”
Tehya made a mental note to meet with Journey soon and discuss this. If her cousin wanted out of that marriage, if she wanted a way to disappear from such a cold-blooded family, then Tehya would help her.
“Genetics are a bitch,” Jordan said, his tone low. “It’s hard to imagine you’re from the same gene pool.”
“No kidding.” She could only shake her head at the thought of the arrogance and superiority that had oozed from Stephen and Craig Taite’s pores. How different they were from what she had imagined. There was none of the warm humor that Journey possessed, none of the charm she seemed to use unconsciously. It was even harder to imagine her mother was related.
“I’ll make sure I find out what Journey herself wants,” she told him, her gaze glittering with suppressed anger. “I won’t let her be forced into anything so important as marriage.”
There was his Tehya. Jordan felt a spurt of pride at the pure determination and protectiveness rising inside her.
“We’ll see,” he agreed. “I believe my business has been conducted for the evening, though. I would like to claim a dance from my very beautiful lover before other things get in the way.”
“Expect things to get in the way,” she informed him as she laid her hand in the crook of his arm once again and allowed him to lead her to the dance floor, where other couples were now moving in synch with the slow, seductive music the band had slipped into.
“Of course,” he agreed with her.
“Have our watchers taken the bait yet?” she asked as she placed her head against his shoulder, his head bent to her.
“They haven’t moved.” His tone hardened. “But I hadn’t expected them to during the party. They’ve made no phone calls though, which I didn’t expect. I was hoping for a number to trace.”
“They’ve been careful all these years not to tip their hand, Jordan.” Weariness and a sense of impending doom was beginning to grow inside her once again. “They’re not going to slip up that easily.”
“I didn’t say it would be easy, now, did I?” he pointed out with an edge of amusement.
A smile tugged at her lips. “True,” she agreed, “you never promised it would be easy.”
His fingers tucked beneath her chin and lifted her head, his gaze staring down into hers. “They have to go through me to hurt you, baby. Me and the entire fucking team,” he swore.
Him and the entire team. He took care of those he considered his own. His agents, their wives, their children if needed. He claimed his shoulders were broad.
The fact was, she was still just a part of the team. It was nothing special. It was nothing romantic nor was it something he would allow them to have forever.
She had now though, she reminded herself. She had a chance to make some memories, a chance to gather his warmth, his passion to her and hold it for the cold, dark days ahead.
As he held her chin up, his head lowered to brush her lips with his. The latent hunger in the action sent heat surging through her body and hunger knotting her womb with such fierce heat it felt blistering.
God, she loved him. So much that she would walk through fire, a hail of bullets, or face her family simply because he felt it was for the best.
As his head rose, her hand lifted, her fingers touching his clean-shaven jaw. She didn’t care who watched, she didn’t care the conclusions they drew. She had to tell him, it was burning in her heart and in her soul, that need to whisper the hunger she knew would never ease.
Whatever happened, whatever the growing panic building inside her meant, she didn’t want to leave this world without him knowing.…