Page 46 of Jordan

He grinned foolishly at the softened tone of her voice. At least she hadn't dismissed his declaration and sounded as if she liked it. He would give her time to say it back.

"Just in the moment. How are things going with you? Did you manage to finish what you were supposed to be doing?"

"Not completely. I meet with my agent in the morning. How about you? Any idea when you're coming back?"

His heart soared at her interest. "It kinda sounds as if you miss me. Do you?"

"I suppose I do."

"I'll wrap things up as early as I can. I miss you like crazy and am not afraid to say it."

"Neither am I." She told him airily.

"Then say it."

"I just did."

"Coward." He teased. "I'll get it out of you when I return. What're you wearing?"

"What?"

"I'm assuming you're in bed? What're you wearing?"

She paused and he could imagine her looking down at her outfit.

"An old t-shirt."

"You have anything under it?"

"I am not about to satisfy your prurient sexual fantasy." She told him primly. "Goodnight."

"Come on, babe. Give me something to get through the night."

He grinned as she paused again. "Black lace panties. Now goodnight, I'm hanging up now."

"Jules?"

"Yes?"

"Thank you," he said softly. "Do me a favor, dream of me, will you? I'll be dreaming of you."

He hung up before she could respond.

Great, he thought wryly. Good luck getting some sleep now. Images of her played over and over in his mind. Picking up the phone, he searched gallery and brought up pics of them. Her dancing with Liam and laughing at something his friend said to her. The man was a goddamned flirt, and it had taken a force of will for him not to march over and drag her away. His eyes focused on her, instantly dismissing his friend. She photographed well. He had the pictures forwarded to his phone by the official photographer who had outdone himself. He captured her smile, the brilliance of her eyes and the delicious curve of her lips. Her head was thrown back, hair rippling past her shoulders.

There was another one with him dancing with her. Their first dance as a couple. He grinned sheepishly as he noticed how closely he was holding her. One hand was splayed at the small of her back, while the other, covered her hand at his chest. And he was gazing down at her as if she was the most delectable thing he had ever seen.

He scrolled through some more, stopping at the ones he had taken when they were on the ship. One with her leaning over the rail, her hand clamped on the straw hat. Another with her by the pool and yet another with her dancing to the upbeat music. Christ! Shaking his head, he put away the phone. Missing herwas like an aching tooth that refused to settle. He told her that he was going to finish his business as soon as he could—he really needed to get home to her.

The night seemed endless as he lay awake, his mind racing with memories and visions of her. The longing grew with each passing hour, a persistent ache in his heart. He tried to distract himself by diving into work, but every document he touched seemed pointless without her presence. He had never felt this way before, this deep yearning that gnawed at his soul.

Eventually, exhaustion claimed him, and he drifted into a restless sleep. His dreams were filled with her—her laughter, her touch, her voice. He saw them together, dancing under the stars, walking hand in hand along the shore, and sharing quiet moments that spoke volumes.

*****

Damn him, she could not sleep. He had stirred her to the point where she kept thinking about the conversation.

He was in love with her? What on earth did he expect her to do with that?

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