He was a picky man. Sure, he’d fucked plenty of the gorgeous women who came to his clubs and restaurants, but that was just mindless sex. To date, he’d only come across one woman who he considered his equal, both with her business savvy and her love of wine, and that was Jordan Rhodes.

And the half billion dollars she stood to inherit one day sure as hell sweetened the pot.

With that kind of money at his fingertips, he wouldn’t need Roberto Martino’s financial backing – an arrangement he certainly didn’t plan to continue indefinitely. Which meant that Jordan Rhodes, and that beautiful, incredible inheritance of hers, was definitely a cause worth fighting for. And the first step in any battle was to know one’s enemy.

Xander’s cell phone rang, interrupting his thoughts. “You’re outside?” he answered.

“At the back door,” Mercks said.

“I’ll be right there.” Xander left his office, being careful to make sure no one was around. He could hear the voices of his guests carrying over from the other side of the staircase. Luckily, the back door was at the far end of the hallway in the opposite direction of his wine cellar and tasting room, which meant that nobody should see him with Mercks.

He punched the code into the security panel next to the back door, silently deactivating the alarm. When he opened the door, Mercks stepped inside. He was an average-looking man with glasses and nondescript thinning brown hair. He wore a gray overcoat and appeared entirely innocuous. Xander supposed that was the point.

“This is a little unusual, Eckhart,” Mercks said. His glasses fogged from the warm air. He took them off and wiped them with the edge of his scarf.

Xander gestured for Mercks to follow him. “This couldn’t wait. Follow me and I’ll explain.” Inside his office, he gestured for the private investigator to have a seat in one of the leather chairs next to the coffee table.

“Parsons said this was some kind of personal matter,” Mercks led in.

“Yes.” Needing to return to the party before he was missed, Xander got straight to the point. “There’s a man here who has become a problem. His name is Nick Stanton.”

“What kind of problem?” Mercks asked.

“He’s with the woman I was supposed to be with tonight.”

Mercks nodded. “Ah. And what can I do to help?”

“I want you to follow him. I want to know everything there is to know about him.”

“Done,” Mercks said without batting an eye. “What do you know so far?”

“Not much. He says he’s in real estate. Rental property. Time is of the essence with this. I need you to dig up whatever dirt you can before he and the woman get too close. That’s why I asked you to come here tonight – I want you to start following him now.”

“I’ve got a guy who can be waiting outside in five minutes,” Mercks said. “Just two things we need to be clear on before we get started: first, this kind of surveillance and background check isn’t going to be cheap.”

Xander waved this off. “Money’s not a problem. Not when it comes to this woman.”

“Second, there’s always a chance I might not find anything on this guy. For all you know, he’s a boy scout.”

Xander thought back to the dark expression on Nick’s face when he’d found him on the terrace with Jordan.

“This guy is no boy scout,” he assured Mercks. “You’ll find something. There’s always something.”

  Thirteen

NICK HATED TO admit it, but Huxley had been right.

All evening, people studied him curiously. They went out of their way to engage him in conversation, and – with the exception of Eckhart – made polite inquiries about him and Jordan without crossing the line into being intrusive or rude. Mostly, they wanted to know how they’d met. After all, if she liked him, that was good enough for them.

This philosophy carried over into wine, he noticed. People waited to hear her reaction to a wine before commenting themselves, and then almost always vocalized a similar opinion. Perhaps her palette was simply that good, but he suspected the consensus also had something to do with the fact that others viewed Jordan with no small degree of fascination. She was smart, beautiful, ridiculously wealthy (or at least she would be one day), and her family recently had been plagued with a very public scandal. In any setting, this would make her a person of interest. In the staid circles of the Chicago wine community, it made her a star.

Nick watched as she spoke to a couple in their midthirties, wondering if she realized how much influence she held. If pressed, he would have to admit that she was turning out to be not what he’d expected when they’d first met. He kept waiting for her to display some sign of weirdness and/or snobbery, but so far she seemed relatively, well, normal. A somewhat irritating conclusion to arrive at, given how much he hated to admit that he’d been wrong.

“So how did you and Jordan meet?” the man standing across from Nick asked.

How Nick wished he could shake things up, considering this was the sixth time he had been asked that question in the last half hour. Interesting story, actually. We met in her wine store, when I offered her a deal to get her brother out of prison in exchange for cooperating in a covert FBI investigation. “It was just one of those things,” he began, launching into their now familiar tale of romance. “I’d dropped by Jordan’s store to buy a bottle of wine for my property manager. He’d gotten engaged over the weekend and I thought I should – ” He frowned when he felt his cell phone vibrating inside his blazer. He reached into his pocket and pulled it out, apologizing. “Sorry. I need to check this for work.”

He looked at the number on the caller ID and instantly knew.

Something was wrong.

He caught Jordan’s curious look. “It’s Ethan. I should grab this.”

She nodded – understanding there obviously was no Ethan – and managed an affectionate smile. “Of course.”

Nick stepped out into the hallway, away from the others. He answered his phone with a casual tone. “Ethan, I’m surprised to hear from you. Don’t you ever take a night off?”

Jack answered, short and to the point. “You’ve picked up a tail. Someone is going to follow you and Jordan home tonight.”

Nick’s jaw tightened. “Any idea how that happened?”

“Eckhart’s making a play for Jordan. He hired a guy to follow you and dig up whatever dirt he can on Nick Stanton.”

Just what they needed. “I’ll have to call you back to discuss this further,” Nick said. “But obviously, this changes our position in the matter.”

“There is some good news,” Jack noted.

“What’s that?” Nick asked.

“At least we know the bugs in Eckhart’s office are working.”


HAVING PICKED UP on the “Ethan” code, Jordan was impatient for answers.

Nick did a great job of maintaining the charade with everyone else, but she noticed a subtle change in his demeanor after the mysterious phone call he’d received.

Xander’s party was typically an event she looked forward to every year, but on this night she counted the minutes until she and Nick could leave without bringing attention to themselves. A long two hours later, they made their way to the waiting Town Car and settled into the backseat. As soon as the driver shut the back door, Jordan opened her mouth, needing to know something.

Nick put his hand on her leg, just above her knee, and squeezed. He held her gaze and shook his head in a barely noticeable gesture. Don’t.

She closed her mouth and watched him for some further sign.

The driver climbed into the car and looked at them in the rearview mirror. “Back to your house, Ms. Rhodes?”

“Yes,” Nick answered for her. He turned back to Jordan and acted as if nothing was amiss. “Did you have a good time tonight?”

Jordan may not have had a clue what was happening, but she understood that she needed to play along with the small talk. “I did. You?”

“I found my introduction to the wine scene very interesting. And speaking of interesting, remember that project Ethan and I have been working on? I got an e-mail from him this evening with some unexpected news. I’ll show it to you.”

He handed his phone to Jordan. When she took it, she saw a warning typed onto the screen:

WE’RE BEING WATCHED

FOLLOW MY LEAD

A chill ran down her back. Watched by whom? And why? She handed Nick back his phone, her heart suddenly racing. “That is unexpected news.” She fell quiet, not sure she could keep the tremor out of her voice.

Nick did something unexpected. He reached out and covered the top of her hand with his. “I’m on it.” The steadiness of his gaze confirmed just that. “Trust me.”

Jordan took a deep breath, realizing that she did trust him. She didn’t know Nick all that well, and frankly didn’t like – well, mostly – what she did know, but she had no doubt that he could handle whatever problem was thrown their way. So she left her hand where it was, covered by his.

When the Town Car finally came to a stop in front of her house, she resisted the urge to immediately jump out. Instead, she waited with forced patience as the driver handed her a clipboard with a bill for her to sign. She quickly added in a tip, scrawled her signature, and gave him back the clipboard. “Thank you.”

“Any time, Ms. Rhodes.”

She opened her door and stepped out of the car without waiting for the driver – a minor breach in Town Car etiquette, but she had more important things to focus on than playing the part of the pampered rich girl. Being followed by unknown villains and engaging in domestic espionage tended to put one’s priorities in perspective.