bittersweet as she wondered whether she would ever have a child of her own. She was already twenty-eight—time was running out.
As he pulled the car into a parking lot near the wharves and shut the engine off, she sat up a little straighter, realizing that she’d left his remark dangling. “I’m sorry…I…how nice for them that they’re having a baby.”
Unexpectedly Jordan reached out and closed his hand over Amanda’s. “Did I say something wrong?” he asked with a gentleness that almost brought tears to her eyes.
Amanda shook her head. “Of course not. Let’s go in—I’m anxious to meet your friends.”
David and Claudia Chamberlin were an attractive couple in their early thirties, he with dark hair and eyes, she with very fair coloring and green eyes. They were both architects, and framed drawings and photographs of their work graced the walls of the small but elegantly furnished houseboat.
Amanda thought of her own humble apartment with Gershwin as its outstanding feature, and wondered if Jordan thought she was dull.
Claudia seemed genuinely interested in her, though, and her greeting was warm. “It’s good to see Jordan back in circulation—finally,” she confided in a whisper when she and Amanda were alone beside the table where an array of wonderful food was being set out by the caterer’s helpers.
Amanda didn’t reply to the comment right away, but her gaze strayed to Jordan, who was standing only a few feet away, talking with David. “I guess it’s been pretty hard for him,” she ventured, pretending to know more than she did.
“The worst,” Claudia agreed. She pulled Amanda a little distance farther from the men. “We thought he’d never get over losing Becky.”
Uneasily Amanda recalled the pale stripe Jordan’s wedding band had left on his finger. Perhaps, she reflected warily, there was a corresponding mark on his soul.
Later, when Amanda had met everyone in the room and mingled accordingly, Jordan laid her coat gently over her shoulders. “How about going out on deck with me for a few minutes?” he asked quietly. “I need some air.”
Once again Amanda felt that peculiar lurching sensation deep inside. “Sure,” she said with a wary glance at the rain-beaded windows.
“The rain stopped a little while ago,” Jordan assured her with a slight grin.
The way he seemed to know what she was thinking was disconcerting.
They left the main cabin through a door on the side, and because the deck was slippery, Jordan put a strong arm around Amanda’s waist. She was fully independent, but she still liked the feeling of being looked after.
The lights of the harbor twinkled on the dark waters of the lake, and Jordan studied them for a while before asking, “So, what do you think of Claudia and David?”
Amanda smiled. “They’re pretty interesting,” she replied. “I suppose you know they were married in India when they were there with the Peace Corps.”
Jordan propped an elbow on the railing and nodded. “David and Claudia are nothing if not unconventional. That’s one of the reasons I like them so much.”
Amanda was slightly deflated, though she tried hard not to reveal the fact. With her ordinary job, cat and apartment, she knew she must seem prosaic compared to the Chamberlins. Perhaps it was the strange sense of hopelessness she felt that made her reckless enough to ask, “What about your wife? Was she unconventional?”
He turned away from her to stare out at the water, and for a long moment she was sure he didn’t intend to answer. Finally, however, he said in a low voice, “She had a degree in marine biology, but she didn’t work after the kids were born.”
It was the first mention he’d made of any children—Amanda had been convinced, in fact, that he had none. “Kids?” she asked in a small and puzzled voice.
Jordan looked at her in a way that was almost, but not quite, defensive. “There are two—Jessica’s five and Lisa’s four.”
Amanda knew a peculiar joy, as though she’d stumbled upon an unexpected treasure. She couldn’t help the quick, eager smile that curved her lips. “I thought—well, when you were driving a Porsche—”
He smiled back at her in an oddly somber way. “Jessie and Lisa live with my sister over in Port Townsend.”
Amanda’s jubilation deflated. “They live with your sister? I don’t understand.”
Jordan sighed. “Becky died two weeks after the accident, and I was in the hospital for close to three months. Karen—my sister—and her husband, Paul, took the kids. By the time I got back on my feet, the four of them had become a family. I couldn’t see breaking it up.”
An overwhelming sadness caused Amanda to grip the railing for a moment to keep from being swept away by the sheer power of the emotion.
Reading her expression, Jordan gently touched the tip of her nose. “Ready to call it a night? You look tired.”
Amanda nodded, too close to tears to speak. She had a tendency to empathize with other people’s joys and sorrows, and she was momentarily crushed by the weight of what Jordan had been through.
“I see my daughters often,” he assured her, tenderness glinting in his eyes. He kissed her lightly on the mouth, then took her elbow and escorted her back inside the cabin.
They said their goodbyes to David and Claudia Chamberlin, then walked up the wharf to Jordan’s car. He was a perfect gentleman, opening the door for Amanda, and she settled wearily into the suede passenger seat.
Back at Amanda’s building, Jordan again helped her out of the car, and he walked her to her door. Amanda waited until the last possible second to decide whether she was going to invite him in, breaking her own suspense by blurting out, “Would you like a cup of coffee or something?”
Jordan’s hazel eyes twinkled as he placed one hand on either side of the doorjamb, effectively trapping Amanda between his arms. “Not tonight,” he said softly.
Amanda’s blue eyes widened in confusion. “Don’t look now,” she replied in a burst of daring cowardice, “but you’re sending out conflicting messages.”
He chuckled, and his lips touched hers, very tenderly.
Amanda felt a jolt of spiritual electricity spark through her system, burning away every memory of James’s touch. Surprise made her draw back from Jordan so suddenly that her head bumped hard against the door.
Jordan lowered one hand to caress her crown, and she felt the French braid coming undone beneath his fingers.
“Careful,” he murmured, and then he kissed her again.
This time there was hunger in his touch, and a sweet, frightening power that made Amanda’s knees unsteady.
She laid her hands lightly on his chest, trying to ground this second mystical shock, but he interpreted the contact differently and drew back.
“Good night, Amanda,” he said quietly. He waited until she’d unlocked her door with a trembling hand, and then he walked away.
