Sandy - Vested Interest - Page 35

He held out his hand. “Let’s go.”The airport wasn’t overly busy this time of morning, and I wasn’t surprised when Jordan directed me to the Executive Class area. We were checked in within minutes and the security line wasn’t backed up, so we were in the first-class lounge not long after the car had dropped us off.

We found a table and left our carry-ons. We brought coffee and some pastries back to the table, and Jordan opened his laptop, showing me some of the things we had to choose from.

“We’re staying at the Boston Harbor Hotel. I have dinner reservations at Finz tonight and Turner’s Seafood tomorrow. Sunday, I thought we could decide if there was anywhere we heard of or simply pick a place.”

“Sounds lovely.”

“I bought a membership at MFA last night that we’ll pick up today. I got tickets for the Impressionists for the three-o’clock time slot.” His fingers raced over the keyboard. “We have a cruise on the harbor tomorrow, a walking tour of Salem after dark, but sadly, no baseball game.”

“I think I can live without it,” I said dryly.

He picked up his coffee. “I thought so.”

“Have you booked us every second?” I asked, looking over the itinerary.

He laughed. “No. I saved lots of time for walking, exploring, and shopping.”

“You thought of everything.”

“I tried. I’ve never been there before either. I’m excited to share all this with you.” A sly grin appeared on his face. “I also booked us a massage Sunday morning.”

“Oh god, I love massages.”

“Emmy might have told me that.” He leaned close, waggled his eyebrows, and spoke in a low, growly voice. “I give great massages, Sandy. Play your cards right and maybe I’ll show you.”

“Is that a fact?”

He brushed his fingers down my cheek. “It is. I’m very dexterous.” His words were accompanied by another waggle of his eyebrows, his green eyes alive and dancing in the bright light surrounding us.

“Well then,” I said, “I suppose I’ll have to figure out a way of getting in your good graces.”

He linked our fingers together and brought them to his mouth.

“You already have, Sandy. You already have.”The flight was uneventful. I napped, my head resting on Jordan’s shoulder during the brief trip. The hotel was sumptuous, the suite ready when we arrived. I stood looking out onto the harbor, feeling excited. Our driver had pointed out a lot of landmarks and made some suggestions. I had a feeling it was going to be a fabulous weekend.

Jordan came up behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist and tugging me back to his chest. “Happy?” he murmured.

Without a word, I turned and flung my arms around his neck. I pulled his head down and kissed him. Deeply. Letting him feel my emotions. It had been so long since I had experienced this sort of attention. Being the center of someone’s focus. Max’s illness prevented him from enjoying life, and although he had been a wonderful husband, I had missed little moments like this for so many years.

Jordan’s arms encircled me tightly. His mouth moved with mine, and our tongues danced and teased together. He eased back, smiling down at me. “I love it when you kiss me,” he murmured. “It’s a little surprise gift every time.”

“I plan on giving you lots of gifts this weekend.”

His eyes widened and he ran his finger over my bottom lip. “I look forward it to, my darling. Now, ready to head to the museum?”

“Yes.”“You like this one.”

I startled at Jordan’s voice. We’d been in the gallery for hours, walking, looking, exploring. I saw paintings I had never seen before. Works of art so beautiful they took my breath away. One Renoir painting in particular caught my eye, and I kept coming back to it, studying the colors, new hues emerging with every sweep of my gaze. It was called Landscape on the Coast near Menton, and I was mesmerized by it.

“Yes.”

“What draws you to it?”

“The colors. The light.”

Jordan tucked me to his side as people went past. We looked at the painting, not speaking. Then he pressed his lips to my head. “Hmm. The same things I see in you. Beautiful light. Breathtaking colors.”

I slapped his arm. “Goof.”

He chuckled, capturing my hand. “It’s true, Sandy. I see that when I look at you. I see life again.”

“Jordan,” I breathed out. “I think that is one of the most beautiful things anyone has ever said to me.”

“It’s the simple truth.”

Without thought, I wrapped my hand around his neck and pulled his face down to kiss him. He instantly wrapped his arm around my waist and pulled me in tight. I wasn’t a short woman or delicate, but Jordan was tall enough, at times I felt as if I were a piece of Dresden china being carefully cradled within his embrace. It was still an odd feeling, yet I found I liked it.

Tags: Melanie Moreland Romance
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