Page 28 of An Unexpected Love

Jill nodded and carried their empty cups to the sink. Then Jordan led her to his car, opening the door and ushering her inside. When he joined her, he pulled out his ever-present cell phone…and turned it off.

“You don’t need to do that on my account,” she told him.

“I’m not,” he said, his smile tight, almost a grimace. “I’m doing it for me.” With that he started the engine.

Jill had no idea where they were going. He took the freeway and headed north, exiting into the downtown area of Seattle. There were any number of four-star restaurants within a five-block area. Jill was curious, but she didn’t ask. She’d know soon enough.

When Jordan drove into the underground garage of a luxury skyscraper, Jill was momentarily surprised. But then, several of the office complexes housed world-class restaurants.

“I didn’t know there was a restaurant here,” she said conversationally.

“There isn’t.”

“Oh.”

“I live in the penthouse.”

“Oh.”

“Unless you object?”

“No…no, that’s fine.”

“I phoned earlier and asked my cook to prepare dinner for two.”

“You have a cook?” Oddly, that fact astounded her, although she supposed it shouldn’t have, considering his wealth.

He smiled, his first genuine smile since he’d shown up at her door. “You’re easily impressed.”

He talked as thougheveryoneemployed a cook, and Jill couldn’t help laughing.

They rode a private elevator thirty floors up to the penthouse suite. The view of Puget Sound that greeted Jill as the doors glided open was breathtaking.

“This is beautiful,” she whispered, stepping out. She followed him through his living room, past a white leather sectional sofa and a glass-and-chrome coffee table that held a small abstract sculpture. She wasn’t too knowledgeable when it came to works of art, but this looked valuable.

“That’s a Davis Stanford piece,” Jordan said matter-of-factly.

Jill nodded, hoping he wouldn’t guess how ignorant she was.

“White wine?”

“Please.” Jill couldn’t take her eyes off the view. The waterways of Puget Sound were dotted with white-and-green ferries. The islands—Bainbridge, Whidbey and Vashon—were jewellike against the backdrop of the Olympic Mountains.

“Nothing like Hawaii, is it?” Jordan asked as he handed her a long-stemmed wineglass.

“No, but just as beautiful in its own way.”

“I’m going back to Oahu next week.”

“So soon?” Jill was envious.

“It’s another short trip. Two or three days at most.”

“Perhaps you’ll get a chance to go snorkeling again.”

Jordan shook his head. “I won’t have time for any underwater adventures this trip,” he told her.

Jill perched on the edge of the sofa, staring down at her wine. “I don’t think I’ll ever be able to separate you from my time in Oahu,” she said softly. “The rest of my week seemed so…empty.”

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