Captivated by the Millionaire

“I’d say that’s a perfect way to describe my sister. You’re very observant, Ms. Raffi.

“It’s why I thought to ask her about being in the school play.” Jess wanted to kick herself as soon as the words left her mouth. She wished she hadn’t brought the topic up again. Here they were finally enjoying some cordiality. Leave it to her to ruin it.

“Jess,” he began. The way he said her name sent a shiver through her she hoped he didn’t notice. “You have to understand why I’m against such an idea.”

“Perhaps you could let her make the decision.” She literally bit her tongue after the statement. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. There’s that impulsiveness again.”

“Don’t apologize. It appears we both seem to say things to each other that are perhaps better left unsaid.”

“Perhaps.”

He let out a deep sigh. “Well, I should get back to work. I won’t be able to get much done later today seeing as Elise has the night off.”

Jess blinked in surprise and turned back to face him. “She does?”

He laughed. “Don’t look so surprised. Contrary to the initial impression I’ve obviously given you, I do cut my employees some slack and give them time off once in a while.”

Employee.

She couldn’t help the thrill that seemed to suddenly lift her heart at those words. Sounded as if Elise was the little girl’s nanny. Not a girlfriend at all. And certainly not his wife.

Not that it made an iota of difference as far as she was concerned. She’d discovered the hard way that when it came to relationships, Jess still had a lot to learn about herself—between her spoiled engagement and her uncharacteristic fling. Something told her that when it came to Jordan Paydan, the third time would definitely not be the charm.

She gave him a small wave of goodbye as he walked out of the room. What he’d just revealed about this Elise didn’t necessarily even mean he was single. Still, the revelation made her giddier than she would care to admit.

* * *

The figures on his spreadsheet floated across his vision in a blurry mess of numbers. He’d never had this much trouble focusing. His mind kept wandering to the woman upstairs busily painting on his sister’s bedroom wall. He really should have planned this better. Every cell of his being vibrated with the awareness that they were alone in the house together. Elise and Sonya weren’t due back for several more hours.

There was no explainable reason he found himself so attracted to her. For all he knew, Jess was taken. Women like her weren’t typically found wanting of suitors. Though she was nothing like the women Jordan himself usually dated, not that he’d ever been terribly serious with anyone. Nor could he entertain such an idea now.

He’d just spent the better part of a year watching his father being utterly betrayed by his wife. She’d proven how disloyal she was when Jordan’s dad had gotten sick. His own most recent relationship had floundered as soon as the young lady had learned he’d become the guardian of a little girl. Though she’d used the term “saddled.” No, Jordan was in no place in his life right now to embark on any kind of relationship after the past several months.

Besides, his work and his little sister had to be the prime focus of all of his attention right now. With Sonya, there was too much at stake. He’d already done wrong by her on an astronomical level. He didn’t need any kind of distraction. Certainly not a distraction in the way of a perky, bohemian artist with olive skin and rich dark brown hair. He found himself wondering, not for the first time, how that thick luxurious hair would feel if he were to run his fingers through it. If he tugged it gently to bring her face closer to his, to finally reach for that kiss.

Whoa.

So not where he needed his thoughts to wander toward. Not when said artist was literally a floor above him. It would be so easy to come up with an excuse to go check on her again. And he was tempted. Oh, so very tempted. He forced himself to look back down at the spreadsheet, knowing full well he wasn’t going to be accomplishing much.

An hour later his assumption proved correct. He’d barely made a dent in his workload. A soft knock sounded from the other side of his office door.