Page 7 of An Unexpected Love

He glanced at her again, a bit scornfully. “Life.”

Jill didn’t know what to make of that response, but luckily the elevator arrived just then.

“Is there anything else I should know before we get there?” she asked once they were inside. Her role, Jill understood, was to protect him from an associate’s daughter. She had no idea how she was supposed to manage that, but she’d think of something when the time came.

“Nothing important.” He paused, frowning. “I’m afraid the two of us might arouse some curiosity, though.”

“Why’s that?”

“I don’t generally associate with…innocents.”

“Innocents?”He made her sound like one of the preschool crowd. No one she’d ever known could insulther with less effort. “I am over twenty-one, in case you didn’t realize it.”

He laughed outright at that, and Jill stiffened, regretting—probably not for the last time—that she’d actually agreed to this.

“I think you’re wonderful, too,” she said sarcastically.

“So you told me before.”

The elevator arrived at the top floor of the hotel, where the restaurant was located. Jordan spoke briefly to the maître d’, who led them to the dinner party.

Jill glanced around the simple, elegant room, and her heart did a tiny somersault. All the guests were executive types, the men in dark suits, the women in sophisticated dresses that could all have been bought at the little boutique downstairs. Everyone had an aura of prosperity and power.

Jill’s breath came in shallow gasps. She was miles out of her league. These people had money, real money, whereas she’d spent months just saving for this vacation. Her money was invested in panty hose and frozen dinners, not property and office towers and massive stock portfolios.

Jordan must have felt her unease, because he turned to her and smiled briefly. “You’ll be fine.”

It astonished Jill that three little words from him could give her an immeasurable boost of confidence. She smiled and drew herself up as tall as her five-foot-three-inch frame would allow.

Waiters carried trays of delicate hors d’oeuvres and narrow etched-glass flutes filled with sparkling, golden champagne. Jill reached for a glass and took her firstsip, widening her eyes in surprise. Never had she tasted anything better.

“This is excellent.”

“It should be, at three hundred dollars a bottle.”

Before Jill could comment, an older, distinguished-looking gentleman detached himself from a younger colleague and made his way across the room toward them. He looked close to sixty, but could have stepped off the pages ofGentlemen’s Quarterly.

“Jordan,” he said in a hearty voice, extending his hand, “I’m delighted you could make it.”

“I am, too.”

“I trust your flight was uneventful.”

Jordan’s gaze briefly met Jill’s. “It was fine. I’d like you to meet Jill Morrison. Jill, Dean Lundquist.”

“Hello,” she said pleasantly, giving him her hand.

“Delighted,” Dean said again, turning to smile at her. He held her hand considerably longer than good manners required. Jill had the impression she was being carefully inspected and did her utmost to appear composed.

Finally, he released her and nodded toward the entrance. “If you’ll both excuse me for a moment, Nicholson’s just arrived.”

“Of course,” Jordan agreed politely.

Jill waited until Dean Lundquist was out of earshot. Then she leaned toward Jordan and whispered, “Suzi’s dad?”

Jordan made a wry face. “Smart girl.”

Not really, since few other men would have had cause to inspect her so closely, but Jill didn’t discount the compliment. She wasn’t likely to receive that many, at least not from Jordan.

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