He looked at her, angling his head as though he was about to explain something to a five-year-old. “You don’t hate me. You dislike me. And trust me, the feeling is mutual.”
Oh, she could kill this man. If he weren’t six-five and built like a brick shithouse.
Holding his glare, she reached into her Birkin and grabbed her phone. Jordan remained motionless, arms re-crossed over pecs the size of pillows. Apparently, he was unaffected by winter temperatures, because his biceps strained against the sleeves of his t-shirt, the material riding up over the bulging muscles—not a single goosebump in sight—and making his sinuous forearms even moreconspicuous. The man’s body was ridiculous. If his personality wasn’t so obnoxious, she might have admired it.
Which was exactly why she’d nicknamed him Zeus. He had the body of a god and the temperament of a thunderstorm.
She sneered as she pulled up Max’s number and hit dial with frozen fingers. A few tense seconds passed, the two of them locked in a scowling contest, until Max answered.
“Hey Vanessa, darling, what can I do for you?” Club music blasted through her phone.
She smiled triumphantly and hit another button. “Hi Max. I’ve put you on speaker. I’m outside, but my name isn’t on the VIP list. Can you tell the bouncer to let me in?”
“Who wouldn’t let you in?” Max’s voice filled the air, sounding genuinely confused.
Brilliant question, Max.“Jordan.” She spat his name out like poison.
Laughter roared over the line. “Jordan, let her in. She doesn’t need to be on any list. Vanessa can come and go as she pleases.”
She smiled widely, showing all her professionally whitened teeth. “Thanks, Maxi-poo,” she cooed. “See you in a second.” She hung up and tossed her phone back into her purse. “Did you hear that, Zeus? I can come and go as I please.”
Jordan’s glower could have brought God to his knees, but she met it with a smug smile in reply. This round was hers.
Without breaking eye contact, he unlatched the chain on the velvet rope and stepped aside. Vanessa brushed past him, feeling a surge of satisfaction. After a terrible day and now sparring with Jordan, winning had given her the boost she needed.
Was that why she hadn’t called Max right after Jordanshut her out? Because she enjoyed sparring with him? No. Ridiculous. Her brain was frozen along with the rest of her.
“Just don’t play with fire tonight, princess. I won’t be there to bail you out,” Jordan grumbled as she passed. “I’m on door duty.”
She turned, flipped her hair over her shoulder and gave his granite chest a quick pat, ignoring the zing of awareness that shot through her.
“Lucky for you, I didn’t bring any matches,” she said before strutting into the booming club.
CHAPTER TWO
Two more hours and he’d be able to go home and thaw out. Jordan wiggled his toes in his boots, flexed his fingers, and blew out a long stream of air, watching a cloud form in front of him. He’d retrieved his jacket when the temperature really started to drop, but he regretted not having a beanie. His cropped hair offered little insulation, and his ears and scalp were numbing.
Still, it wasn’t as fucking cold as his prison cell back in Illinois, so he was counting his blessings.
Vanessa, in her mini shorts and barely-there top, popped into his mind, and he fought off another tremor. He’d nearly shown mercy and let her in so she would stop shivering like an abandoned kitten. Almost.
What he really hoped for was that she would turn around and go home. But he knew her well enough by now to understand that with her, what he wanted rarely came to pass. Knowing Vanessa, she would’ve gone into hypothermic shock just to spite him.
Damn Max, giving her free run of the place. Not that he could completely fault the club owner. Vanessa Barone wasgood for business. Her high-profile celebrity status as a model turned actress drew attention wherever she went in this town. Since she began appearing at Silk, the number of patrons had doubled.
Her club appearances inevitably ended up on social media, attracting more people.
The only downside was that when she was there, or anywhere, drama followed.
He knew he should’ve let her in right away, but between the Friday night regulars and two bachelor parties adding to the crowd, he was exhausted and didn’t want to spend the end of his long week managing the extra mayhem.
Also, he had to keep her safe for Joel and Lucy’s sake.
Joel Morgan was the CEO of Morgan Construction and Morgan Enterprises. A self-made billionaire with a heart of gold—one in a million. He’d hired Jordan as his part-time security detail months ago, and over that time had become as close as anything that Jordan had to a friend.
Luciana Barone Morgan was Joel’s wife. She was his everything…and Vanessa was her sister. They were protective of her, and honestly, he got it.
Something about Vanessa drew people in, and not only with her looks. She was unpredictable, impulsive. Her free spirit moved before her brain could catch up. People were attracted to that—to her.
