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Captivated By The Millionaire
She straightened at his question. “What are you doing here?” she demanded to know, her eyes shooting daggers his way.
Not that it was any of her business, but he responded to her question, the one she’d asked with scorn and derision clear in her voice. As if she should be the one to be outraged in the current scenario. “I’m signing her up for swimming classes.” Jordan wanted to get the errand out of the way first thing after they’d settled in. The L-shaped pool in his new backyard was deep enough to be concerning. Not to mention the Atlantic Ocean a stone’s throw away.
He didn’t really have time to stand here and answer her questions. The woman was a repetitive thorn in his side and he didn’t even know who she was.
It was his turn to demand some answers. “What exactly were you asking her?”
Sonya stood staring at them from one to another. She appeared to be smiling at the exchange.
“First of all, please check your tone. Secondly, I was merely asking Sonya if she wanted to participate in the preschool play. Hardly an unforgivable offense.”
“She doesn’t. She’s not interested.”
Her eyes narrowed on him and she crossed her arms in front of her chest. “Shouldn’t she have any kind of say in the matter?”
“She’s barely six. Why would you even ask her to make such a decision?”
“Because I teach a class here and also volunteer to put together the annual summer play.” She extended her hand. “I’m Jess. Jessalyn Raffi.”
Jordan shook the hand she offered and introduced himself, reflexively and out of sheer common courtesy, despite his impatience.
The introductions seemed to somehow only further increase the awkwardness.
She cleared her throat before continuing. “Your daughter seemed interested in the flyer and—”
He cut her off. “Sister.”
She blinked. “I beg your pardon?”
“She’s not my daughter. She’s my sister. And she won’t be acting in some play.”
“She’s your sister?” She sounded incredulous.
“Half sister to be totally accurate.” Jordan rammed a hand through his hair in frustration. Again, none of this was any of her business.
“I see,” Jess responded. “Why?”
Was she serious? “Why is she my sister?”
She gave a small shake of her head. “No. Why don’t you want her to be in the play? I think it would give her a chance to get to know other children. I know you’re new to Martha’s Vineyard.”
If she couldn’t guess why, he wasn’t going to explain it to her.
Between Sonya’s difficulties with her hearing and her reluctance to speak, being involved in a play could open her to all sorts of taunts from the other children.
Damned if he would put Sonya through such exposure and embarrassment.
Not after all that she’d already been through.
CHAPTER TWO
JORDAN WAS FEELING like a heel once more. And Sonya had made it clear she thought he’d acted like one during the entire ride back home from the community center. Perhaps he’d overreacted back there. Again. But something about the woman seemed to be making him act like a curmudgeon whenever he saw her. He couldn’t explain it.
It probably had something to do with the way she’d assumed his sister would want a hand-drawn immaculate castle on her bedroom wall. Or that she’d get some sort of social benefit from participating in a community center children’s play.
But it turned out she was a teacher. So she probably knew quite a bit about school-age children. More so than he did, certainly. Now he could only watch as Sonya was frantically relaying what had transpired at the center to Elise, using hand gestures and a writing pad. When she was done, they both turned to give him glaring looks of disapproval.
He threw his hands up in surrender. “Okay, look. I admit I could have handled it better. Especially considering I already chewed her out our first night here.”
They both looked at him in shock. “What are you talking about?” Elise demanded to know.
Damn it. He hadn’t meant to let that slip. Jordan stared up at the ceiling as he explained. “It just so happens, she’s the artist who’s responsible for the castle on the wall upstairs.”
His little sister’s mouth formed a surprised round O. He continued, “Only, I wasn’t expecting to see anyone here at that hour when I arrived and I sort of communicated my displeasure about it.”
Elise swore in some unknown dialect. She was fluent in three languages and he never knew which one she was speaking when she did that. “And you admonished her again today? Simply because she asked Sonya about participating in a play at the children’s center?”
Well, when she put it that way... “Why would Sonya want to be in some silly play?” he asked what he thought was a fairly obvious question under the circumstances.
Elise rammed her hands on her hips as Sonya continued to glare his way.
“Why wouldn’t she?” Elise asked.
Were they really going to make him come out and say it?
He could only glance from one small outraged face to the other adult one. Finally, after several tense moments of silence, Elise spared him from having to answer. She tousled Sonya’s hair and signed for her to go upstairs to wash up before her afternoon snack.
“Look,” she began once the little girl left the room. “I know you’re trying to do the right thing, but you can’t be so overprotective of her. It’s not good for anyone, least of all Sonya.”
She was the only one who dared to talk back to him in such a manner. Not even his merciless business colleagues came close. “After what she’s been through, how can you blame me?”
“The accident was months ago, Jordan. And the doctors keep telling you it had nothing to do with what she’s dealing with in terms of her hearing.”
“But it may have triggered it.”
“They said that’s just a theory. In either case, you’ve upended your whole life with this move in response.”
He shrugged. “I’ll do whatever it takes to help her get through this.”
“Including letting her grow up like any other little girl?”
“But she’s not.”
“Oh, Jordan.”
This was a useless conversation. He was responsible for Sonya now. Damned if he would allow her to be hurt any more than she already had been. Especially considering her suffering may be in part his fault.
“I have work to do,” he told Elise in clear dismissal.
Luckily, she didn’t push, just silently turned away and moved toward the kitchen to prepare Sonya’s snack. But the rigidity of her back made it clear exactly what she thought of Jordan Paydan at the current moment.
Great. Now he’d gone and made three females upset with him, including two who lived under the same roof. That was going to make for a very long dinner and evening.
As far as Jessalyn Raffi, it appeared now that a mere verbal apology would no longer suffice given the repeat offense. Good thing he’d noticed a florist shop near the local pizza place. Looked like he’d be giving it some business in the very near future. In fact, he figured it would probably be wise to order three bouquets considering the total number of females currently upset with him.
* * *
Jess was running late again. Her summer children’s art class she taught would be starting in about half an hour. She wasn’t even inside her classroom yet. Given that some of the children always arrived a little early, she needed to get going already.
But her night had been restless and fretful, full of fanciful dreams that had taken her by surprise. Dreams that involved a dark, tall, enigmatic man with grayish, hardened eyes. It made no sense. But she was torn between outrage at his attitude toward her during their meeting and a strange feeling of intrigue.
Uh-oh. Jess didn’t dare follow this path again. She’d already had her fair share of experience with an overbearing man who was all too quick to dismiss her opinion.
Still, she couldn’t seem to dampen her curiosity. Who was Jordan exactly? Why was he here? Wealthy tourists and seasonal residents flocked to the island every year during these summer months. Everyone from Hollywood megastars to political elites. But not many folks made the vineyard their permanent home. What had made Jordan decide to do so?
And why was he his little sister’s guardian?
Though she only taught part-time, Jess had been around enough children to know that families came in all sorts of shapes and sizes. But Jordan and Sonya’s particular scenario definitely had her curiosity piqued.
Right. As if she could actually deny the real reason she was so curious. Something about him called to her in a way she couldn’t explain.
She pushed open the door to the class building and nearly ran into Clara, the center’s director.
“I’ve been waiting for you to come in!” the older woman declared as Jess fought to retain her balance before dropping all her art supplies. “You’ve been holding out on us.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“Who’s the mystery man?” Clara asked.
Had she sent Clara a text or email in her sleep during one of her Jordan dreams? The mere possibility of the absurd thought had her horrified.
“Mystery man?”
“Let’s go to your classroom,” Clara simply stated without clarifying anything about what she was referring to. She’d definitely walked into some sort of unexpected mystery this morning. One she didn’t really have time for, Jess thought, glancing at the industrial wall clock hanging above the door.
It all made sense once they arrived in the classroom she usually taught in. An elaborate display of colorful, exotic flowers adorned the entire surface of the long supply table that sat next to her easel.
“Who are they from?” Clara wanted to know.
Did she dare hope? That was silly. Why would Jordan Paydan send her flowers, and such elaborate ones, no less?
“They must have cost a fortune!” Clara declared.
“I—I don’t know.”
Clara gave her a disbelieving look. “Well, go on. Take a look at the card, then.”
Jess slowly set down her paints and charcoal pencils and walked over to the centerpiece—a tall glass vase with a large elegant red bow at its base. A delightful scent of lilies, orchids and lilacs tickled her nose as she approached. The sender must have bought out half of Bower’s Flowers in the center of town. She removed the card and pulled it out of the envelope. Shockingly enough, the flowers were from Jordan. Her mouth went dry as she read the tiny font.
Please accept the flowers along with my apologies for my inexcusable behavior.
Jordan Paydan
She read it again, the words slightly blurred now as her hand was shaking for some strange reason. Simple. Direct. But she couldn’t help but feel touched. He’d gone out of his way during a no doubt stressful and busy move to take the time to send her flowers. Most men would have simply called or waited for an opportunity to present itself. The man she’d been briefly involved with during college probably wouldn’t have even done that much. In fact, she could count on one hand all the times she’d been sent flowers from a man.
Though Jordan had certainly overdone it. A simple bouquet would have sent the same message. A single rose would have, in fact. Jordan was clearly the type who spent an exorbitant amount of money to make a simple apology. An uncomfortable sensation tingled at the base of her spine at that thought.
“Well?” Clara broke into her musings. “Don’t keep me in the dark any longer. This is so exciting,” she said and clapped her hands in front of her chest.
Clara was in for a disappointment. “It’s nothing to be excited about, I’m sorry to say.”
Her smile faded. “But these are gorgeous. It’s such a romantic gesture.”
Jess shook her head. “Hardly. They’re simply meant as an apology.”
“An apology?”
“That’s right.”
“From whom?”
“There’s a new family on the island. They’ve just moved in.” She paused, trying to find the right words to explain how this all came about. “Our first couple of meetings didn’t exactly go well.”
“I see.”
“I’ll have to find a way to tell him all is forgiven,” Jess said, glancing at the card once more. “I think he signed the little girl up for a swimming class the other day. We might have their contact information.”
“Who is it? I did most of the recent sign-ups myself.”
“Jordan Paydan.”
A flash of recognition crossed Clara’s face. “Jordan? Why didn’t you say so?”
“You know him?”
“Most of the locals do. Well, they know of him anyway.”
“They do?” Jess had only lived on the vineyard for about three years. Compared to some of the families who had been here for generations and lived here year-round, she was considered a newbie—barely more than a long-term tourist.
Clara explained, “Jordan’s mother was born here in town and grew up not too far from the center, in fact. She used to take classes as a little girl. Mostly athletics. Quite the gymnast.”
“I had no idea.”
“She left as a young lady and made quite a name for herself as a successful fashion model in New York City. Such a shame what happened.”
Clara definitely had Jess’s full attention now. But she didn’t get a chance to ask as several of her pupils entered the room. Class was due to start in about five minutes.
Clara motioned toward the bouquet. “So nothing romantic behind this at all?” she wanted to know as one child waved to them both and took her seat.
“Not even a little.”
The disappointment that settled behind Clara’s eyes was as clear as the vivid colors of her bouquet. “What a shame. But such a nice gesture on his part.”
Jess simply nodded. Nice. Yes, that was all it was. Jordan was being apologetic and conciliatory by sending her flowers, as beautiful and expensive as they were. Who knew, perhaps he’d run their encounters by a girlfriend or even a wife who’d admonished him and urged him to apologize.
That possibility sent a tightening sensation in the center of her gut. How silly of her. She’d met the man exactly twice under less than cordial circumstances both times.
But she couldn’t deny how intrigued she was by Jordan and whatever his story was. Not many newcomers moved here permanently in general. Though VIPs ranging from politicians to movie stars to famous authors had property throughout the island, not many of them stuck around permanently after the summer months. What had made Jordan come? Why was he taking care of his sister by himself? What had happened to her parents? To his parents? Curiosity about the possible answers dug at her.
More than she cared to admit.
* * *
Jordan had to get out of this blasted study and get some air. Or food. Or something. Though his home office was large and expansive, he was starting to feel a bit stifled. This room was a far cry from the Manhattan high-rise office building he used to occupy. He was successful enough as a venture capitalist now that he could do most of his business out of any office he chose with a few trips into the city throughout the month to meet face-to-face with colleagues as the need arose. But moving to a New England coastal island was still going to be quite the adjustment. He’d done it for Sonya’s sake and he was still convinced that getting her out of New York City was the wise choice.
But now he was feeling restless. What was there to do around here in the middle of the day?
A pair of bright hazel eyes and silky brunette hair flashed in his mind. Had she received the flowers yet? He wondered what her reaction had been when they’d arrived. Did she like the arrangement? He couldn’t count the number of times he’d sent flowers to women throughout his adult life. Never before had he wondered about their reaction.
Truth be told, he couldn’t blame her if she’d taken one look at the card and thrown them out the window. Given the way he’d treated her, it would serve him right. Something told him she wasn’t the type to do such a thing. No, she was more the sort who would give them away to a girlfriend if she didn’t like the flowers.
He’d just been taken by such surprise when he’d walked over to find her asking Sonya about participating in a play. It had nothing to do with his shock at seeing her again. Right. If he repeated that enough, he might somehow convince himself. Damn it. He didn’t seem to know how to act around her. What the hell was his problem? Jordan sighed and stood up abruptly from his desk. His focus was shot; may as well take a walk.
He wasn’t terribly shocked at where he found himself several moments later—outside the red-brick building that was home to the community center. He could see her through the first-floor window. Jessalyn Raffi. She’d introduced herself as Jess at first. Jordan watched as she walked around from table to table, assisting various children with their projects. Even from this distance he could see the splatter of paint on her smock and all over her hands. Her hair was done up in a loose, haphazard bun. There was a gypsy-like, bohemian quality about her he couldn’t help but find intriguing.
Somehow, she even made a smock look sexy.
Stop it!
He gave his head a shake and turned to walk away. But then she suddenly looked up, right in his direction. Damn it. Now he’d been caught watching her. What must she be thinking? He was so far off his game when it came to this woman, he hardly recognized himself. Well, he wasn’t going to turn and walk away. That would look even worse.
He had to do something. A long, shrill bell sounded and the children all suddenly stood up and started picking up their projects. He dared another look at her, bracing for the scorn and derision he’d see on her face. Instead, she smiled at him.
He had to suck in a breath. Jordan made up his mind and started walking toward the entrance before he could give it too much thought.
The last of the children were slowly straggling out to their awaiting parents as he reached her doorway.
He cleared his throat once they were alone. “I was—uh...just out taking a walk.” That was the way, fella. Just dazzle her with some witty conversation. He wouldn’t be surprised if she rolled her eyes at him.
“I’m glad you did,” she responded instead. “It gives me a chance to say thank you.” She gestured to the long wooden supply table that housed the flowers. “They’re lovely. But it wasn’t necessary.”
He shrugged. “I’m glad you like them. And an apology was definitely required after...well, you know.”
She sucked in her bottom lip, the small, subconscious gesture sent a strange bolt of heat through his chest. Then she shook her head in disagreement. “No. As far as the first night, you were right. I had no business deciding what to put on your wall. I wanted to tell you I’m sorry.”
Now she was apologizing to him and it made him feel like a complete heel.
She continued, “It was rather forward of me. It’s just, sometimes I get inspired and don’t think things through.”
For someone like him, it was a novel concept. He’d always been one who preferred structure, planned even the most minute details of a project well in advance. So the next words out of his mouth were so surprisingly spontaneous, he could hardly believe he was about to say them.
“Actually, I wanted to talk to you about that.”
She ducked her head, as if chagrined. “Of course. I’ll be sure to tell Marie that someone needs to head down and paint the eggshell white over the castle. Free of charge, obviously. I’d do it myself but—”
Jordan cut her off with a shake of his head. “That’s not what I meant.”
Her gaze narrowed on him when she looked back up. “It’s not?”
“No. In fact, you mentioned that night that the castle wasn’t quite finished. I’d very much like it if you would complete whatever else you meant to add. And this time, you’ll be paid for your work. It’s only fair.”
“Wow, I definitely did not see that coming,” she stammered, clearly shocked at his proposal.
The truth was, so was he.
CHAPTER THREE
IF SOMEONE HAD told her forty-eight hours ago that she’d be back in this house at the request of the new owner to finish her painting, Jess would have asked them if they had a bridge they wanted to sell her. But here she was, outlining in charcoal pencil the rest of the scene she’d had in mind when she’d first imagined it in her head.
Jordan was in the mansion somewhere and she felt his presence fully, kept looking over her shoulder to the hallway in case he walked past. So far he hadn’t. She had absolutely no reason to feel disappointed by that. It pained her but she had to admit to never before being quite so aware of a man. Not even Gary when she’d first met him. It had taken time for her feelings for her former fiancé to develop. Her only other relationship after Gary could only be described as a summer fling, though she’d been woefully naive in believing it might have led to more. That particular gentleman had simply taken off without so much as a goodbye at the end of the vineyard’s tourist season. All the more reason to squash her current attraction to Jordan Paydan with haste.
Jess returned her focus to her artwork. She was simply here to do a job. Once she got lost in a project, the rest of the world would often disappear. She needed that phenomenon to happen right now. Regardless of the fact that a man she felt more aware of than she ever had anyone else happened to be under the same roof.
The sound of footsteps approaching in the hallway broke into her thoughts. She sensed him behind her and her heart did a small leap in her chest.
“So the moat, then. That’s what you needed to complete,” he said in a smooth, low voice that sent waves of electricity over her skin.
“And the drawbridge,” she told him. “That’s next.”
He walked into the room to stand beside her. A tremble suddenly developed in her hand and she had to force herself to steady it or her lines would be shot. She couldn’t even put her finger on why her attraction to him was just so notable, and there was no denying that was what she felt right now—pure, animalistic attraction. But this time was different, much stronger.
And what did that say about her previous long-term relationship? Had she ever actually felt a quake in her center when Gary had walked into the room? If so, she couldn’t recall. No, she’d admitted to herself long ago that Gary had simply been a grasp at some sort of stability. After the constant upheavals that defined her childhood, she’d been more than impatient to find a grounded life with some semblance of a routine and a steady anchor. So she’d rushed into a relationship that was doomed to fail.
Studying Jordan now, she realized the two men really couldn’t be compared. There really was no comparison. First of all, Jordan had apologized for being rude to her, even if he had done it in a somewhat overblown way by ordering half the flower selection at Bower’s Flowers.
Gary had never once uttered the word sorry, no matter how much in the wrong he’d been during their arguments. Arguments that had only grown more and more frequent after she’d made her decision to leave grad school.
Not to mention Jordan had been trying to protect his little sister when he’d confronted her. Jess couldn’t really take his reaction personally.
“I suppose that makes sense,” Jordan said. “You can’t have a moat without a drawbridge.”
“True.”
He stepped closer to examine her work and the scent of him reached her, a subtle woodsy scent that well suited him.
It was settled. She was way too distracted to keep trying to draw. She tucked her pencil above her left ear and turned to face him. He had on an ocean-blue T-shirt that brought out the dark hue of his eyes and fit him just well enough to see a hardened, muscular chest underneath.
“Do you mind my asking what made you change your mind? About the diorama?” she asked. A disquieting thought had been nagging at her about the whole turnaround since he’d asked and she’d accepted the other day.