Chapter 3
“The sooner we leave, the better.” Lara Jensen’s tone was bitter.
“What’s your hurry?” Jordan frowned. He was enjoying the Blue Monkey restaurant and wished she’d just disappear and leave him alone. He’d failed with the hostess when he tried to discover the name of the belly dancer with the long black hair. But he wasn’t giving up. That was one sexy woman.
Turning to him with blazing blue eyes, Lara hissed, “If you can’t guess, you’re pretty dense. I saw you flirting with that . . . that black-haired witch! And with me sitting right there. Well, I don’t like your attitude one bit, let me tell you.” After her diatribe, she let out a huff of disdain, folded her arms across her chest, and stared straight ahead.
Inhaling sharply to keep from shouting at her, Jordan sat for a few moments, deep in thought. This was it–he knew he wasn’t going to see Lara again. Glancing about, he caught his friend Scott’s eye. Rising, Jordan walked over to him. In a low tone he asked, “Scott, can you do me a favor? Lara’s tired and wants to leave early. I’d rather hang around for a while. I know you have sick kids and I was wondering when you planned to go home. Lara’s place is close to yours and, if you could drop her off, I’d be eternally grateful.”
“No problem. I can tell the two of you aren’t hitting it off tonight. Was she upset you gave money to that belly dancer? I saw you stuff a bill into her bra,” Scott said. “Pretty hot, I’d say.”
“It started earlier in the evening. Lara’s getting very possessive of my time. Too much, as far as I’m concerned.” Jordan’s tone was grim. “Thanks for the favor.” He headed back to his seat to give Lara the news. She wouldn’t be too happy, but he didn’t care.
~ ~ ~
“I can’t wait till we get home tonight,” Brice whispered in Sam’s ear. His arm settled around her shoulders.
She turned her head sharply to stare at him. His breath smelled as if he’d had one too many to drink. She wrinkled her nose in disdain. “And what exactly do you think is going to happen?” Beth was playing hostess again, and Sean was busy in the kitchen. That left Sam alone with Brice, who appeared to be getting more amorous by the minute.
“C’mon, don’t be a tease. After showing me what you’re capable of on the dance floor, I can tell you’ve got a passionate streak.” Brice leaned over and planted a moist kiss on her mouth.
That was it. Sam shook off his arm and stood. “I’m taking a taxi home. You’ll have to manage on your own.” Brice was definitely drunk, and no way was she going to leave with the guy. They’d only get into a wrestling match. Let Beth and Sean deal with him. Out of the corner of her eye she noted the man she’d danced with earlier standing nearby–the one who’d stuck a ten-dollar bill in her bra. Why was he staring at her? What did he want?
Brice came to his feet, an angry expression on his face. He took hold of her upper arm and attempted to pull her toward him. “What’s the matter with you? We were having a great time the whole evening, and all of a sudden you’re dumping me? I don’t get it.”
“Let go of me!” Sam exclaimed, trying to twist away. She didn’t want to make a scene, but this guy couldn’t understand the word ‘no’.
“I brought you here tonight and I’m taking you home,” Brice declared, holding on to her.
“You are not,” Sam hissed, pushing against his chest.
~ ~ ~
Jordan finally located the dark-haired belly dancer sitting at a table in the rear of the restaurant with a man who was evidently her date. He was determined to get her attention and talk to her. While he waited to approach, the couple started arguing. When the man grabbed the woman’s arm and wouldn’t let go, Jordan couldn’t keep quiet. “Hey, keep your hands off her. Didn’t you hear what she said?” He took a few steps toward them.
Brice glared at the intruder. “Keep out of this–it’s not your business, mister.”
Jordan’s expression darkened. “When I see anyone manhandling a woman, I’m involved. Got it?” Then he turned to Sam, who was staring at him with an amazed look on her face. “Is he bothering you? Just say the word and I’ll toss him on his ass.”
Sam had no doubt he would do just that. “Brice, let go of me this minute,” she said forcefully. Adding to those words, she pushed against his chest with every ounce of strength she possessed and managed to wriggle out of his hold. Staggering back a few paces, she said, “Now, I’m leaving, and I don’t want you to follow me. Understand?” Turning on her heel, she walked quickly toward the front of the restaurant. She’d talk to Beth first and then call a taxi.
Jordan hastened after her. “Wait,” he called out. Catching up to her, he said, “I’ll be happy to take you home. I’ve wanted to talk to you all evening.”
Sam stopped in her tracks. “Look, thanks for your help, but I’d really like to be alone.” She hoped the man would take the hint and disappear. The nasty encounter with Brice shook her more than she cared to admit.
Jordan was not used to rejection. Usually women were all over him, begging for his attention. This was a totally new experience. “Listen, it’s not easy to get a taxi in this area. Let me give you a lift, and I promise I won’t bite or cause any problem.” He sent her a sexy grin.
“That’s what the other guy said,” Sam muttered, walking away.
Jordan wasn’t discouraged. He followed her to the front of the restaurant and waited to see her next move.
Sam caught sight of Beth at the cash register and hurried over. “I’m leaving now, and I need to call a taxi. Brice is too much for me to handle. He can go home with you and Sean.”
“What happened?” Beth looked at her in surprise. “I thought the two of you were getting on well.”
“We’re not. And I’m tired of his sexual innuendos. He’s also had too much to drink. He’s determined to spend the night with me and I’m not interested. And he can’t take ‘no’ for an answer.”
Jordan approached the two women. “I’m happy to be of service, ma’am,” he said, directing his comment to Sam. “Besides, you might need my protection. Your date isn’t going to let you off that easy.”
As he said those words, Brice made his appearance, staggering a bit, a furious expression on his face.
For a few tense moments, the two men glared at each other. Then Beth broke the ominous silence. “Hey guys, we don’t want any fighting here. Brice, Sam is determined to go home on her own so you’ll come with us.” If worse came to worse, she’d get Sean to intervene.
“It’s not okay,” Brice said in a slurred tone. He turned his full attention to Jordan. “This isn’t your business. You don’t even know her. Are you trying to pick her up or something? Well, let me tell you, don’t waste your time. She’s a real bitch, and you won’t get to first base.”
For a moment, Jordan was speechless. Then he started laughing. The whole situation tickled his funny bone. “Don’t worry pal,” he finally said to Brice. “First base doesn’t interest me. I’m looking for a home run with bases loaded.” Then he convulsed into laughter again.
Brice’s face stained a dark red while his hands clenched into fists. “You son-of-a-bitch,” he said as he lunged at Jordan.
Without thinking, Sam moved quickly to stand in front of Jordan, trying to block Brice’s assault. The fist intended for Jordan slammed into the side of her head and sent her reeling backward.
“For Christ’s sake.” Jordan swore as he caught her by the shoulders. “Why did you do that?” Seeing a chair nearby, he guided her into it. “Stay there and don’t move,” he ordered. Then he turned to Brice, took him by one arm and flipped the guy onto the floor.
By this time several of the waiters gathered about to see what was going on. Beth turned to one of them. “Frank, hurry and get Sean.” She crouched down next to Sean’s cousin who was groaning and cursing at the same time. “Take it easy, Brice. Sean and I are taking you home right now.”
Jordan turned his full attention to Sam. “Let me see the damage,” he demanded, pulling her hand gently away from her head. He could see a reddened area from her forehead down to her cheek. “You’ll need ice on that.” He turned to one of the men standing around. “Get me some ice and a cloth napkin, fast.”
The whole scene was surreal, Sam thought. Here she was, pursued by two men who were ready to fight over her. And all she wanted was to be left alone.
“Let me hold this to your face.” Jordan took the napkin wrapped around several chunks of ice and applied it to Sam’s bruise.
Sam was too exhausted to protest. She’d worked a full day at the gallery as well as the belly dance routine earlier. The argument with Brice was the final straw. Drained and unsettled, she leaned into the cold cloth with closed eyes.
“That feel better?” he asked in a low tone.
“Um,” she replied. It was too much of a strain to even talk. She was conscious of his hand as it held the cloth firmly in place. He was seated next to her and the same current of electricity that flowed between them earlier on the dance floor was there again. Disturbingly so. She felt the heat moving into her while tingles of awareness fluttered her stomach. What was going on?
“You don’t have to worry about your boyfriend, he’s gone,” Jordan said. He pushed some tendrils of black hair from her forehead and noticed the tiny freckles dotting the bridge of her nose and the long lashes shading her brown eyes.
“He’s not my boyfriend,” Sam muttered.
“He certainly acted pretty possessive,” Jordan noted.
Her eyes opened briefly to meet his. She could see the amusement lurking in his dark gaze. “It was our second date and, believe me, there’ll be no more.”
“I don’t blame you. The guy can’t hold his liquor–not a good sign. By the way, I’m Jordan Hart.”
This was the signal to tell him her name, but she didn’t want to. Which didn’t make sense, since he’d come to her rescue. “Thanks for your help, Jordan. I can probably manage now if I could get a taxi.”
“No way. I’m taking you home. I’d like to know your name, though.” Jordan couldn’t figure out why she didn’t introduce herself. What was she hiding?
“Samantha, but you can call me Sam,” she murmured. A weary feeling overtook her. She was too tired to fight him, and she knew it.
Samantha. Now why did that sound familiar? Did he know any Samanthas? “And your last name?”
She shrugged. “It’s not important.”
“I’d like to know it,” he insisted. “Unless you’re a known fugitive or out on parole.”
“Peabody,” she muttered. “And if you don’t mind, I’d like to go home.” He’d probably figure out she was the awkward one in the tai chi class and that would be the end of it. But she didn’t care one bit, she told herself.