“Why wait? I’ll be packed in an hour.”
He scowled. “Fine, if that’s what you prefer. I’ll make some coffee and some breakfast. As soon as we’ve eaten, we can drive to Luke and Jessie’s.”
Kelly could only begin to imagine what those two would have to say about Kelly and Jordan appearing on their doorstep first thing in the morning after their wedding night. The prospect was damned humiliating, but she refused to back down and ask Jordan to at least delay their departure until Sunday after all.
Let him explain why their honeymoon had ended so abruptly. He thought he had all the answers. Let him see how well they held up to his brother’s scrutiny. Maybe she’d even take Luke up on his offer to punch his brother out for her. No doubt he hadn’t imagined there would be a necessity for it quite this soon.
Still seething, she threw clothes into suitcases with almost as little care as she’d displayed when leaving Houston after her divorce. She gathered up a few of Dani’s favorite toys and resolved that her daughter would be allowed to pick out a new selection for the Houston house. If they were going to be shuttling back and forth, then each home needed to have its own set of clothes, toys and books. She refused to pack and repack every few days. The same went for everything from cosmetics to toothbrushes. Two complete households, she decided firmly. Let Jordan put that in his pipe and smoke it.
And, first thing on Monday morning, she intended to have a very long talk with Ginger about the logistics of moving Jordan’s primary business offices home to west Texas.
In fact, she might very well take the secretary to lunch and probe her brain for the secrets of tolerating her husband’s high-handedness. She had always considered herself to be an expert on Jordan, but she’d seen a new side of him in the past few weeks—a man all too used to getting his own way—and she had a feeling Ginger knew far more about that side than she did.
Refusing to ask for assistance, she hauled the luggage downstairs and piled it by the front door. Lured by the aroma of coffee, she reluctantly headed for the kitchen and another confrontation with her husband.
Jordan glanced up from the morning paper at her entrance. “I have pancakes and bacon staying warm in the oven. Sit down. I’ll get it and pour you a cup of coffee.”
“Just coffee and juice for me, and I’ll get it.”
He scowled at her as he stood. “Sit, dammit. I said I’d get it.”
Kelly rolled her eyes at the testiness and sat. He poured the coffee, filled a glass with juice and then reached into the oven to retrieve the breakfast he’d prepared. Suddenly he yelped in pain and jerked his hand back. His bare hand.
Kelly sighed and stood. Jordan obviously wasn’t thinking any more clearly this morning than she was.
“Let me see,” she said, reaching for his hand.
“It’s fine,” he growled.
“Let me see,” she said, and clamped her hand around his wrist. There was a nasty streak of red across his palm that was destined to blister. She tugged him toward the sink. “Here, run cool water on it and I’ll get some salve.”
He stood stoically while the water cascaded over his burned hand. She retrieved the ointment she kept on hand for burns. Taking his hand in hers again, trying not to notice the way her pulse jumped at the contact, she gently applied the soothing salve, then wrapped the wound lightly in gauze.
She was so intent on bandaging his hand that she didn’t notice the intensity of his gaze for some time. When she finally glanced up, the fire banked in his eyes was every bit as hot as the plate he’d tried to pick up.
She released his hand at once and turned her back on him, busying herself with getting the offending plate from the oven, turning off the stove and then sitting down at the table to eat the breakfast she’d claimed not to want. It might as well have been sawdust for all the attention she paid it as she swallowed bite after bite mechanically.
“We can’t avoid talking about it forever,” he observed eventually.
He’d tilted his chair back on two legs and clasped his hands on top of his flat stomach in a posture that screamed of relaxed confidence. She risked a look directly into his eyes. “Talking about what?”
“The fact that we’ve gotten off to a lousy start.”
She shrugged. “We both know it. Why talk about it?”
A look of annoyance passed across his face. “So that we can resolve the problem and move on.”
Kelly’s temper flared. “How…businesslike!”
He stood up so fast, then, that his chair toppled over. Before she realized what he intended, he was leaning over her, bending down, his mouth unexpectedly plundering hers in a bruising kiss clearly meant to wipe all other thoughts out of her head. After a brief struggle of wills, it succeeded in doing just that. Her mind emptied of everything except the way Jordan made her senses swim. She abandoned the battle and gave herself up to that devastating kiss.
His lips gentled, then, coaxing, persuading, reminding her of the way they’d been together in the middle of the night—hot, slick sensuality, mind-altering pleasure, gentle sharing. They were good together, as instinctively attuned as two people who’d been married for decades. Jordan was the kind of sensitive, intuitive, giving lover women dreamed of finding. He had gauged her reactions time and again and suited his lovemaking to
