Finding the Perfect Man (17 page)

Oh, and good heavens…there was a fireplace in this glorious room, too! Astounding!

Jordan couldn’t help but fall in love with the whole room…the whole homey cabin, even. Her chest burst with warmth. Now she
knew
she wanted to live here forever.

The noise from the shower’s spray pulled her thoughts away when she peered in that direction. The bathroom door was cracked open slightly, and from where she stood, she saw a glimpse of the steamed mirror. Although she was interested in what the master bathroom looked like, she was not going to venture inside there until it was empty.

She turned and meandered back toward the door, but a bookcase she hadn’t noticed before drew her attention. Several books were stocked on the wooden shelves, and she moved closer to see what he liked to read. It amazed her to see a variation of different genres, from how-to books, to biographies, to books about philosophy.

Stunned, she couldn’t pull herself away from the different titles. Surprisingly enough, Brock had a wide-range of interests. Good grief, he cooks, builds, acts, treats her like a queen, and still has time to be her bodyguard. What can’t this man do? She was quite sure he’d look good wearing red tights and a cape and flying around the world saving people, too. Never in her life had she met a man more…perfect.

So why couldn’t she get past his deceit when they first met? Had Kenneth really ruined her for other men?

“Do you see anything you like?”

His voice boomed from the stillness in the room, and she jumped and spun around. He stood just outside the bathroom door wearing a thick brown, terrycloth robe. His wet hair was slicked back on his head, reminding her of when she first met Rocky at the bar. A small amount of his chest showed between the v-line in the robe, but it was his muscular legs where her gaze finally landed.

Why, oh why did he have to be incredibly built?

“Uh…what?” she stammered.

The corner of his mouth lifted in that adorable grin she loved seeing. As he walked closer, he pointed to the bookcase. “A book. Do you see a book you’d like to read?”

“Oh, the
books
!” Embarrassment filled her completely, making her face hot. She was sure it was bright red, too. She quickly turned to the shelves, hoping he didn’t see her blush. “I was just thinking how many books you had—and such a variety of things to read.” She glanced over her shoulder. He stood closer than before and her heart leapt. “I’m impressed with your reading material.”

He ran his fingers through his hair. “Well, I do like to keep an open mind, and I definitely like to learn a variety of things. Would you like to borrow a book?”

“Uh, well…maybe later.”

When she finally felt her blush had left her cheeks, she turned and faced him. The scent of musky soap enveloped him and made her want to closer her eyes, rest her head in the curve of his neck, and inhale deeply.

“Did you have a nice nap?” He swept his knuckles gently across her cheek. “I didn’t dare wake you.”

“Yes, I did. I think the warmth from the fire, and the comfort of protection this place gives me, finally let my mind relax enough so I could sleep.” She sighed heavily. “It was greatly needed.”

He cupped her face loosely with both hands. “You feel protected here?”

Her heart leapt. Good grief, she
had
said that, hadn’t she? She couldn’t very well retract what she’d said, mainly because she knew it was the truth. “Yes. Strange how it sounds, I know, but I do feel more protected here than in my townhouse.”

Brock’s eyes were so dreamy, such a lovely dark green, that she began to feel dizzy with desire. Whether it was the warmth from his fireplace—or from his caring gaze—she didn’t know. All she knew was that if she didn’t look away, she’d melt into a puddle at his feet.

Dropping her eyes to the middle of his chest wasn’t a good thing, either. A small patch of hair decorated his wide chest, and she couldn’t stop her fingers from reaching out to touch his skin between the opening of his robe. Immediately, she heard his quick intake of breath and noticed his body stiffen. Tingles ran amuck through her, but she couldn’t quite find the strength to pull her touch away. “Brock, I…” She swallowed to moisten her suddenly cotton-dry throat.

His thumbs stroked her jaw and cheeks as he gently tilted her face. When she finally moved her focus, all she saw was his mouth descending…

His mouth silenced not only her words, but her thoughts. When his lips touched hers, explosions erupted in her head and humming rang in her ears…but it was a different type of hum, one that came from his heavy sigh.

She wrapped her arms around his waist and leaned into him, participating fully in the kiss. Her lips moved in a cadence with his as if beginning a beautiful and very passionate dance. His lips were very tender, and very stimulating, and just as before, she lost her head in the magic of the moment.

It was hard not to feel so protected in this perfect man’s tight embrace. Her heart burst into a million stars that spread through every inch of her body, bringing happiness and surrender. Thoughts she had no right thinking submerged. She wanted to smile and sigh with delight. Words finally came to her mind, and this time she felt like saying them out loud.

She loved him. Desperately. Without a doubt.

Thankfully, his mouth melding to hers stopped the confession from coming out. After all, she needed to think straight before saying such a thing. Before those words passed from her mouth, she had to make sure she knew what kind of commitment this was—and if she was up for the challenge.

Brock’s drugging kisses could sweep her away into doing things she’d regret later, so she found the strength to break the kiss. The smile on her face wouldn’t leave even if she wanted it. Gazing up into his eyes, she realized he wore a satisfied smile, too.

“I should let you get dressed,” she whispered.

“Are you sure?”

She hitched a breath, not daring to breathe for fear she’d sigh loudly. The meaning of his question was clear, but she couldn’t let his hypnotic voice sway her. “Yes, I’m sure.”

He nodded, kissed her forehead and stepped away. “I’ll be down in a minute to make dinner. You’re probably starving.”

What she was starving for was not on the menu. “All right, don’t be long.” She turned and left his room. She had made the correct decision to leave, but heaven help her, it was so dang hard to leave the comfort of his arms and the magic of his kiss. She prayed she could start trusting him again so that there would be more enchanted moments in her life like what had just happened.

* * * *

Brock smiled as he dressed—quickly—in order to get downstairs before Jordan had time to think about what they’d just done. Literally, the earth had moved for him. His heart was so full right now, and all he wanted to do was cuddle with her and never let her go.

She hadn’t stopped him from kissing her the way he’d wanted for two days now. It was like fate had led her to his bedroom just as he’d finished his shower. Surprisingly, she didn’t turn and run back downstairs. Instead, she stayed and allowed him to kiss her.

He couldn’t stop the smile of satisfaction from touching his mouth. Suddenly a different emotion entered his chest, making him ache with confusion. The words hung on his tongue, ready to spill forth. Could it be that he’d allowed himself to fall in love? And if he was in love with her, was it so terrible?

What if he did love her? Could she forgive him for his deception enough to return his love?

SIXTEEN

The closing of her office door brought a deep sigh of relief from Jordan’s throat. Three sessions down, three more to go. It wasn’t that she didn’t love being a doctor, but because of her emotional weekend, her nerves were on end.

She seriously thought about going to a doctor herself for a prescription of Prozac. To make things worse, Erica had called in sick today. Of course, Jordan didn’t blame her. Erica had been through an ordeal, too. On the other hand, Jordan wished she wasn’t alone in her office building between patients.

Glancing at the wall clock, she checked the time. Almost noon. She smiled, thinking of the promise she’d given Brock about having lunch with him. Just one more appointment to go.

It shocked her how well she and Brock got along over the weekend. After that wonderful, enthralling kiss, she thought it would be awkward between them. Thank goodness it wasn’t. Brock had made a delicious meal and they sat on the couch and discussed books they’d read and what they’d learned from them. On Sunday they lounged around the house and played board games in between watching movies on the big screen tv.

Brock hadn’t tried to kiss her again, and although some of the times she wished he had tried, it had made her realize how much she missed being intimate with him like that.

She pushed away from her desk and walked out of her room, down the hall to the drinking fountain. After taking a moment to enjoy the cool water trickling down her throat, she moved into the bathroom to fix her make-up. She froze. Her heart literally stopped beating.

Big, bold letters in red lipstick across the mirror.
Soon, Jordan. I’ll have you soon.

She gasped, her hand flew to her mouth to keep the scream from releasing. Nobody would hear, anyway.

Her legs shook like a newborn colt when she ran from the bathroom back to her office. She locked the door behind her. With an unsteady hand, she picked up the phone and punched in Brock’s cell number. Tears filled her eyes while she waited for him to pick up. Who could be doing this to her?

Finally, his comforting baritone voice echoed on the other end. She let the tears stream down her cheeks.

“Brock…come quick.”

“Jordan? What’s wrong?” His concerned voice tugged on her heart.

“He’s…been here. He left…left another…message.”

“Lock your door, I’ll be right over.”

“Okay,” she whispered, and then hung up.

Her heart thundered in her ears as she curled on the brown leather sofa, waiting for Brock’s protective arms to reassure her he’d guard her from danger. It seemed like hours, but when she heard the roar from his Ram truck speeding into the parking lot, she realized it had only been ten minutes.

She jumped up and ran to the door, fumbled with the lock and opened it. Brock rushed into the building, heading right for her. His eyebrows drawn, lips thinned in worry. She threw herself in his arms and sobbed.

“What happened?” He stroked his large hands over her back.

“A message…in the bathroom.”

Keeping his strong arm around her shoulders, she hurried with him down the hall to the bathroom. Her body shook harder when he opened the door, and they stepped inside.

Confusion wracked her brain as she stared at the now clean mirror.
Where did it go?
The mirror didn’t even look as if there had red lipstick written on it.

She shook her head. “I don’t understand. It was there. I saw it.”

Brock pulled away from her long enough to check the stalls. He looked at her and shrugged. “Where’s the message?”

“I don’t know. It was there not more than ten minutes ago.”

“Was anyone else in the building?”

“My last patient just left. I saw her leave. I heard her car pull away.” Jordan put her shaky hands on her cold cheeks. “Brock, I swear, there was a message.”

“I know, pretty lady,” he said, pulling her back into his arms.

She looked up into his eyes—eyes that held a hint of doubt. He didn’t believe her. Pain slashed through her heart from his unspoken rejection.

Anger exploded inside of her, and she pushed him away. “You don’t believe me! You think I made this up.”

Brock’s eyes widened. “I didn’t say that.”

“You don’t have to. It’s written all over your face.”

He reached out to touch her cheek, but she smacked his hands. “You doubted my story about the intruder coming into my bedroom, and by the look on your face, I can see you don’t believe me about this either. You probably don’t even believe someone sent me threatening letters.”

“Jordan, honey, listen to yourself. Do you know how silly you sound?”

She scowled. “Don’t talk to me with that patronizing tone. I know perfectly well how I sound.” But in pause, she realized he was right. She did sound ridiculous. No, she sounded…crazy, the same way her father acted a month before he killed himself. Could insanity run in the family?

Wrapping her arms around her middle, she walked out of the bathroom, back into her office. How could she treat her patients if she wasn’t in her right mind?

“Jordan,” Brock called after her, following closely behind. “You’re stressed. Let Erica call and reschedule your appointments for today.”

With all the strength she could muster, she lifted her chin in defiance. “Erica is home sick today, and I will not reschedule my appointments. My patients are the only thing in my life that makes me feel complete. I won’t put them aside just because I’m having a bad day.”

He took her shoulders in a soft hold. “Then I’m going to fill in for Erica. I don’t want you here by yourself.”

Once again, her heart twisted in confused pain. Why did he doubt her one minute then act so caring the next? “What about your own job?”

He grinned. “I’m the boss, remember? I’ll just call my secretary and inform her I’ll be out for the rest of the day.”

This time when he brushed his fingers across her cheek, she didn’t stop him. The tenderness of his touch made her nuzzle her face against his hand and she wanted to cry all over again. “Oh, Brock. You probably think poorly of me. Forgive me for saying what I did. All of this is so frustrating, and…” She shook her head, as tears began to fall.

“No need to apologize, pretty lady,” he whispered, pulling her into his arms. “We’ll figure out what’s going on. I promise.”

More tears slid down her cheek, so she pressed her face against his hard chest. “Why do I feel as if I’m losing my mind?”

“Maybe that’s what this jerk is trying to make you feel. Have you ever thought of that?”

She shook her head, not wanting to piece anything together right now. But since he’d mentioned it, her mind snapped into action, and she thought back to everything that had happened so far. The missing letters. No trace of the man in her room. Now this. What advantage would her stalker have by making her feel insane?

The tinkling of the bells hanging on her door brought her back to the present. She had an appointment. She jumped out of his arms and wiped her tears.

“Brock, if you’ll wait another hour for me, I’ll be able to have lunch with you.”

He nodded and kissed her lips. “I’ll be right outside the door sitting in Erica’s chair.” He winked. “But remember, I don’t have a fingernail file, so I’ll be completely bored.”

She laughed, loving the way he was able to change her moods. “You’re a cad, but I love you for it.”

As soon as she said it, she snapped her mouth closed. Why had she told him that? Although she’d felt it for a few days now, she didn’t want to admit it. But now that it was out, would she deny it?

Holding her breath, she studied his reaction. His wide-eyed stare held hers. Slowly his face relaxed, and a smile touched his mouth. He pulled her into his arms, placing his lips on hers. Without words, she felt his answer.

He loved her, too—even if she was crazy.

Giddiness bubbled in her chest, and she threw her arms around his wide shoulders, pulling him closer as she tilted her head to deepen the kiss. His hands moved all over her back, bringing her closer.

“Jordan.” He tore his mouth from hers. “Your patient is in the next room. As much as I’d like to continue this, I think we’d better stop.”

She giggled and nodded. “I’m sorry.”

His heated stare burned into her when he grinned. “Don’t be sorry. We can talk during lunch.”

“Talk?”

“Or whatever.” He winked.

He stepped away and walked to the door. Before leaving, his mouth formed the words, I love you, too
.

* * * *

After her patient left, Brock took Jordan in his arms and kissed her long and hard, drugging her with the passion building inside him. But he had to stop it, or he’d lose his mind…if he hadn’t already. Yet he loved her—loved her with every fiber of his being. Loved her with both heart and mind.

Funny he’d feel this way because he hadn’t planned on losing his heart when he first met her.

He helped her slip into her coat before taking her outside to his truck. Once he climbed inside and shut the door, he started up the engine and shifted into drive. The tires gripped the snow-packed road remarkably well as he drove out of the parking lot.

“Where do you want to go for lunch?” he asked, glancing her way.

“Let’s go to my place. It’s closer, and since I haven’t been there for a couple of days, I think I should check on things. Don’t you?”

“Yes, good idea. Do you want me to pick something up that we can eat?”

“I have canned soup at home if that’s all right.”

“Sounds perfect.” Reaching his hand over, he grabbed hold of her gloved fingers and squeezed lightly. “Are you feeling better now?” He took a quick glance at her before returning his attention to the road. “You look better. More color is in your cheeks now.”

“Yes, I do feel better. I just wish I knew who was doing this to me.”

“We’ll figure it out. I won’t rest until it’s done.”

She rested her head against the seat and turned to look at him. “Brock, why are you doing this? In fact, why do you put up with my crazy mood swings?”

“I know this isn’t easy for you, Jordan. I understand why your moods keep jumping from one level to another. I’ll be here to support—and comfort you any way I can.”

“Thank you.” She squeezed his hand and he returned the gesture. “I honestly don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“I’ll always be here for you, pretty lady.” He winked at her before watching the road again.

Not another word was said as he drove. It took only minutes to get to her townhouse. He stopped and jumped out, ran around the car to open her door. She slipped her hands against his palms, entwining her fingers with his. Her eyes sparkled when she smiled at him. Excitement drummed inside him. He wanted so badly to be alone with her, to hold and kiss her, but especially to talk about what they’d said to each other not too long ago.

She unlocked the door and they walked in. Brock glanced around the living room to see if anything had been disturbed from when they’d left the other day. Thankfully, everything looked the same.

She entered the kitchen and withdrew two cans of stews. “This all right for lunch?”

“Of course.” He took them from her. “Let me get them started. You go into the front room and relax.”

“I can’t let you do that.” She reached for the cans, but he raised his arms above her head so she couldn’t touch them. “I mean it, Jordan. Go relax.”

Shaking her head, she grinned. “You’re a turd.”

“You betcha.” He winked.

“I’m going upstairs to my bedroom to freshen up a bit.”

“Don’t be long,” he told her.

He found two microwave bowls from her cabinets and proceeded to pour a can in each. It had been only minutes since she left, but he missed her already.

Suddenly, a loud scream came from Jordan. Alarm jolted through him, followed by panic. He dropped the soup and dashed out of the kitchen and up the stairs as fast as his legs could carry him.

Jordan stood in the door frame of her room. Her face void of color as she stared blankly inside her room. He stepped behind her, wrapping his arms protectively around her waist.

Clothes scattered the floor, some ripped in pieces. The open closet door showed the same disarray inside. Her oak dresser drawers stood open, and her bras and underwear hung askew. Even her jewelry littered the floor and bed.

A sob tore from her throat as she turned and buried her face in his chest. “Who would do this to me?”

She shivered as he pulled her body closer to his. “I don’t know, but I’m definitely going to find out and put a stop to this madness.”

“Brock, just take me downstairs. I don’t want to see this.”

Without question, he turned and did as she asked. When they reached the living room, he set her on the couch before sitting beside her. She cuddled in his arms.

“Jordan? Do you have any patients capable of this?”

“No.” She looked up at him. “The more I thought about what you said, the more I think you’re right. Someone wants me to think I’m crazy.”