Sparks

“Just think about it.”

“No.” He leaned against the fridge and kept his gaze on the ground. “The only way I’m going to have a baby is if I’m married to its mother, and since I don’t plan to marry again, that won’t happen.” He raised his gaze, his tone unyielding. “Understand?”

Maxine shivered. “Don’t look at me like that. That doesn’t sound like you.”

“Well, it is me.”

“It didn’t used to be. We both know how much you want kids. You can’t deny it. I know you better than anyone. I know how much you wanted a family.”

He smiled cruelly. “Yes, and we know how much you cared.”

She blinked back tears. “I said I wasn’t ready.”

Jordan pushed himself from the fridge. “No, you married the wrong son,” he said in an ugly tone. “You should have married the one that was legitimate. That would have given you better business connections. The one that would have put you in the right circles.”

Maxine widened her eyes, astonished by the accusation. “I didn’t marry you because of who your father was.”

He shrugged. “It didn’t hurt being Mrs. Jordan Taylor. It got doors opened and helped with the popularity of your boutique. But running a successful boutique wasn’t enough. You had to run me too.”

“I wanted you to improve yourself. You had to do something with your life.”

“I was doing something. I was living it.”

“You were traveling and volunteering your time at that swim center.”

“Why not? I liked it. I liked the hours and I liked the kids. I liked doing exactly what I wanted.”

“Do you think being a CEO will give you time to do what you used to?”

“I’ll make it suit me, not the other way around.”

“Life isn’t like that. You have to fit in.”

“Why try? I’m worth more than your three boutiques combined.”

“And you didn’t earn a cent of it,” she spat out.

He nodded, then said in a soft voice, “Yes, and you still resent that.”

“I resent a man who could live for nothing else but pleasure when other people struggle.”

“You resent me, yet you still want to have a child with me?”

“Yes. Because I know you’ll make a great father.”

Jordan winced as though she’d struck him then an unreadable look crossed his face. “No.”

“You don’t want to get married,” she pressed. “But I know you want to be a father. It could work out for both of us.”

“My parents weren’t married. It might have suited them but it made my life hell. I won’t subject my kid to that. I can’t believe you’re asking me to do that. Me of all people. I know what it’s like to be part of a bargain. To be a piece in a game. My mother made my father pay for my existence. You’re right, I didn’t earn a cent of my money. I got a nice sum and made wise investments and I don’t deserve any of it.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“There are a lot of things you don’t have to say.”

“If you do this for me, I won’t ask you for anything more.”

Jordan tossed the apple away and grabbed a banana. “No.”

Maxine sighed. “Stop fooling yourself. You’ll marry again. You can’t stand being alone.” She placed the brochure on the table. “Think about it.” She touched his cheek. He moved away. “Think about what you’re saying no to. It may be your only chance.”

Jordan rested his forehead against the door after she left. A baby. Damn, why now when she knew how much he’d wanted it then? How he’d wanted a wife and child and home life he’d never had. He shook his head. It was too late now. He didn’t want anything to do with her or any woman. Not in that way. He wouldn’t be that vulnerable again. He moved away from the door. The conversation never happened. The issue was over. No more women. Just business.

Over an hour later Jordan looked at his crooked tie in the mirror and scowled at his reflection. Why couldn’t he get this right? It was such a simple task; men around the county, heck around the world, did it every day. Why was it so difficult for him? He undid it and tried again; then the doorbell rang.

He glanced at his watch and scowled. One thing he disliked more than ties were appointments that arrived twenty minutes early. He grabbed the two ends of his tie and answered the door.

“Hi, I’m Dawn Ajani.”

Jordan stared as though he’d been punched in the gut. She was all wrong. She wasn’t supposed to be that attractive. She had the proud dominant cheekbones of a West African heritage that made him think of desert winds, the heat of a blazing summer storm and the cooling rain that soon followed. She looked like a woman who could start a fire in a man and easily put it out. This was not good. He shook his head, feeling a little dizzy. Business. He had to think business.

And she looked ready for business dressed in a full gray pinstripe suit with a tie. Strangely, it made her figure appear more feminine.

“Nice tie,” he said, then mentally kicked himself.

She smiled, he swallowed. She was even prettier when she smiled—bright, real, genuine. He shifted and coughed knowing he was staring.

“Thank you. I know it’s not the trend, but I think the look suits me. Is it safe to assume you’re Jordan Taylor?”

“Yes.”

She held out her hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

He quickly shook her hand then took a step back. He had to keep his distance. “Come in. Please take your shoes off.” Along the foyer hallway, he had his shoes neatly placed in a row.

She slipped out of her shoes, left her briefcase by the door and headed to the living room. “I’m sorry I’m so early. I’d set my watch fast and forgot. However, I’d rather be early than tardy. Don’t you agree?”

Jordan opened his mouth to reply, but she continued. “It’s much better not to keep someone waiting. It shows good manners.” She abruptly stopped and turned, Jordan crashed into her. They fell against the wall. He jumped back before he began to enjoy her softness beneath him.

“Sorry,” she said.

He grunted.

“I just wanted to say that I see you’re not completely ready so I’ll just sit here until you are. Rushing people because you’re early is equally as bad manners as being late. Don’t let me keep you. I know how to entertain myself. And you don’t have to worry, I won’t snoop. I know how upsetting it is to have people who snoop.”

Jordan stared at her.

She frowned. “Is something wrong?”