“Unfortunately, sweetie, I really have to go now,” she said to Nick. “I’ll call you back later.” She hung up the phone before she said anything else she’d regret.

With a deep breath, she plastered on her best smile, determined to focus on work. She turned back to Andrea. “Thanks. Did this customer say what he or she wants to speak to me about?”

“He. A very good-looking he,” Andrea said with a grin.

Jordan tiredly rose from her chair. “Please tell me it’s not Xander Eckhart.” She definitely was not in the mood to deal with that situation right then.

“It’s not Xander. This guy says you owe him a case of wine.”

Curious, Jordan followed Andrea out of the back room. The store was crowded, and nearly all the tables were filled with customers drinking wine. She spotted the mystery man, sitting by himself at a table near the dessert wine and champagne section.

He eyed her appraisingly as she walked over. “Jordan Rhodes. Good to see you again.”

She stopped before him and smiled. “Cal Kittredge. It’s been a while.”


AN HOUR LATER, Nick swore under his breath, cursing the lack of parking spots in front of DeVine Cellars. He found one a block away, parked the car, and climbed out. He was a man on a mission tonight, and his target was Jordan Rhodes. Whether she wanted to or not, they needed to talk.

He strode up to DeVine Cellars just after nine o’clock. He peered through the front window, knowing he’d likely see her closing the store.

Bingo.

His eyes followed as she walked over to the bar in her black silk shirt, slim-fit skirt, and high heels. Before going inside, he allowed himself a few seconds to watch her as she grabbed a bottle of wine and carried it over to a table in the corner.

She really was gorgeous. Any man would be lucky to –

Nick stopped midthought, suddenly catching sight of the guy she was with. Medium to tall build, model-perfect brown hair, with a scarf wrapped around his neck despite the fact that it was seventy degrees inside the store.

Obviously a douchebag.

Jordan poured wine into two glasses sitting on the table. She set the bottle down and took a seat in the chair opposite the douchebag. He said something she apparently found amusing, and then he picked up the bottle and filled her glass even more.

Nick watched as Jordan sipped her wine and made The Face – the seductive, the-hell-with-wine-you-should-see-what-I-look-like-having-sex face. At least that was how he interpreted it.

Watching her with a predatory gaze, the douchebag grinned. Apparently, he had a similar interpretation of The Face.

Something inside Nick snapped.

That was his fake girlfriend in there. Sitting at the table where they had just shared cheese fries the night before. And if she thought she could throw scorching hot sex-looks to any pansy-ass scarf-boy who wandered into her shop, she had another think coming.

He had a look of his own to show the douchebag.

It was time to break out the don’t-fuck-with-me face.


JORDAN SET DOWN her glass and closed her eyes as the flavors of the wine enveloped her. “Mmm, I needed that.”

“Long day?” Cal asked.

“Very.” She glanced around the store. She’d let Andrea leave a few minutes ago, as amends for the extra shift she would have to put in over the weekend. She was relieved to see that things appeared to be in relatively decent shape.

Cal seemed to read her mind. “What if I stuck around and helped you close the store? Then we could check out that new Thai place I was telling you about. It’s BYOB, so pick any wine you want.” With a grin, he gestured to the wines on the shelves behind them. “It’s on the house.”

“How generous of you.” Jordan swirled her wine. “But I think I’m going to have to pass on Thai.”

“Does this have anything to do with Tall, Dark, and Smoldering?”

While grumbling to herself about the ridiculous Scene and Heard column, Jordan thought about the best way to answer Cal’s question. “The situation with Tall, Dark, and Smoldering is … complicated.”

“How complicated?” Cal asked.

You wouldn’t believe it if I told you.

The chime on the door rang, and a cold gust of wind blew in. Jordan looked over and was surprised to see Nick standing in the doorway.

He wore his dark overcoat and a formidable scowl. With his eyes trained on her and Cal, he strode over to their table. “Looks like I’m just in time for last call.” Wasting no time, he held out his hand to Cal. “Nick.”

“Cal Kittredge.”

“Nice to meet you, Cal. The store’s closed.”

Jordan shot him a look for his rudeness. “Nick.”

He held up his watch and tapped it. “See? Nine o’clock.”

Cal looked from one to the other. “I get the feeling I’ve stepped into the middle of something here.”

Nick smiled mock-pleasantly. “Yes. And here’s your chance to step out of it.” He grabbed Cal’s coat off the back of his chair and handed it over.

Jordan glared at him. “You can’t be serious.”

“As a heart attack, sweetie. We need to talk.”

She turned back to Cal. “I am so sorry about this. You really don’t need to leave.”

Cal held up his hand and stood up. “No worries, Jordan. It’s probably better that I go. We can talk later when I come back for the wine.”

Nick’s scowl deepened at that.

Jordan stood up from the table, brushed past Nick, and followed Cal to the door. She went for a joke, trying to cover her embarrassment. “Not the way DeVine Cellars usually treats its customers. I guess I should’ve warned you that it’s ‘Take a Tall, Dark, and Scowly Guy to Work’ day.”

“Remind me about that day next year. I think I’ll stay home,” Cal said. After a quick good-bye, he was gone.

Needing a moment to calm down, Jordan locked the door and pulled down the shades on the front windows. No need to let any random passerby see that she was about to have a very real argument with her jackass of a fake boyfriend.

When she’d composed herself, she turned around to face Nick. “I cannot believe you just did that.”

He had taken off his coat and set it over a chair, an indication that he planned on going nowhere. He leaned back against the table and folded his arms, his light gray sweater pulling tight across his broad chest. “Oh, I’m sorry. Did I interrupt something between you and your customer?”

“Yes, you did interrupt something. It’s called a conversation . And aside from being a customer, that was Cal Kittredge from the Food and Wine section of the Tribune. People in my business don’t usually piss him off by throwing him out on his ear.”

“I didn’t realize he was so important to you,” Nick said sarcastically.

Jordan glared at him. “What has gotten into you tonight?”

Nick pushed away from the bar and closed in on her. “I’ll tell you what’s gotten into me. How do you think it would look if anyone was watching you tonight? They’d see my supposed girlfriend having drinks with another guy.”

Of course, Jordan thought. The investigation. The only thing he cared about.

“Why was he here anyway?” Nick asked. “Are you … interested in this guy?”

She stalked away from him. “I don’t have to answer that.”

He followed her. “Yes, you do. It could be relevant to the undercover op.”

Jordan whirled around. “Oh, blow your undercover op out your ass. I didn’t ask any questions when your ex-girlfriend waltzed into my store and told me about the numerous women you’ve screwed. And how you don’t give a damn about any of them because you don’t do relationships. So the same rule goes for you: no questions. Which means that if I want to have drinks with Cal Kittredge, or any other man, that’s my business, not yours.”

She put her hands on Nick’s chest and shoved. Take that.

He didn’t budge.

Instead, his hand clamped down on her wrist and he pulled her closer. “The hell it isn’t,” he growled. “I’m making it my business.”

His mouth came down on hers and he kissed her. His hand swept to the back of her head as he claimed her lips, rough and possessive. Jordan was pissed off and fired up, and she grabbed his sweater to push him away, but …

God, yes.

Instead of pushing, she clutched his sweater and pulled him close. He kissed her until she was breathless, then pulled back and peered down at her with blazing green eyes.

“There. See if the douchebag can kiss you like that,” he rasped, his tone both angry and satisfied.

Jordan’s cheeks flushed hot, flamed by fury. “I bet there are plenty of douchebags around who can kiss me like that.”

“Then I’ll have to work harder to stand out from the crowd.” Nick grabbed her again.

They slammed against the brick wall next to a shelf of wine bins. Nick’s mouth slid down to her neck, and Jordan felt as though her legs melted right there. She had to stifle a moan when his stubbled jaw scraped against her skin.

Rough. Just like she’d imagined it.

“I shouldn’t be doing this,” she murmured against his ear. “I don’t even like you seventy-five percent of the time.”

His voice was a silky, hot caress. “But what do you think about the other twenty-five percent?” Not waiting for an answer, his hands slid up the front of her shirt and gripped the collar. He pulled impatiently, and the first button popped open. Then the second.

He pushed back and took in her now exposed bra. His eyes moved to her face and he heatedly held her gaze. He popped open the third button while she watched.