“Xander,” she said in a calm tone. “I’m sorry if you misunderstood my reasons for asking you to come out here. But I’m with Nick tonight.” She reached up and removed his hand from her face.

Convicted felon of a brother or not, this money-laundering asshole was not touching her again.

At her rebuff, Xander’s expression took on a harder edge.

“Excuse me, Mr. Eckhart?”

Jordan started at the unexpected sound of the woman’s voice. She turned and saw the redhead bartender/FBI agent standing a few feet from them, in front of the doorway that led to the restaurant.

“Yes?” Xander asked, obviously annoyed with the interruption.

“We’re nearly out of the zinfandel. I was wondering what you would like us to open in its place?”

Xander frowned. “That’s impossible. There should be more than enough. Excuse me for a moment, Jordan.” He strode over to the bartender and pulled her aside to speak privately.

Jordan turned her back to them. Facing the river, she gripped the railing and exhaled in relief. She had a feeling a certain special agent was watching out for her from his post in Xander’s office. She glanced down at her chest, feeling the microphone stashed safely in her bra.

“Nice save, Brooklyn,” she whispered under her breath.

Xander and the bartender took a few minutes to wrap up their conversation, and then she left. He walked over to Jordan, shaking his head. “No clue what that was all about. This is my fifth year throwing this party. I think I know how much wine to order. I kept telling her there were extra cases of all the wines in the storage room, but she insisted we were out of the zin. Then suddenly, she tells me that she realized she forgot to check the racks behind the door.” He rolled his eyes. “Fucking airhead. I’m firing her after tonight.”

That airhead is listening right now, Jordan thought. And she is going to have a lot of fun arresting you in the not-too-distant future.

Xander resumed his place by her side at the railing. The interruption seemed to have calmed his earlier response to her rejection. “So. Where were we?”

“We were talking about the Pétrus,” Jordan said.

He shook his head. “Uh-uh. We were talking about us.”

“Xander, there is no us.”

“There should be. I’ve wanted to say that for a long time. Seeing you here with Stanton shows me what a fool I’ve been for not saying it earlier.”

“But that’s the problem, Xander. I am here with Nick.”

“It’ll never last between you two.”

She pulled back. “Why would you say that?”

He gave her a get-real look. “Don’t you think you should be with someone more on your own level?” He put his hand on top of hers and ran his thumb over her fingers. “Jordan, Nick Stanton is a nobody.”

“A nobody who’s going to throw your ass into the river if you don’t get your hands off my date.”

What struck Jordan, as she looked over at the sound of the voice, was that the Nick she saw standing to the right of them was not the devil-may-care, always-ready-with-a-quip man she knew.

This man was angry.

Nick’s expression was dark and intimidating. His voice, however, remained calm. “You have guests who are looking for you, Eckhart.”

Xander shifted. After a moment of studying Nick, he seemed to decide that a quick departure was the safest course of action. “We can finish our conversation later, Jordan,” he said coolly. He passed by Nick as he walked to the door. “You are really starting to annoy me, Stanton.”

Nick didn’t blink. “Good. By the end of the night I hope to finish the job.”

Xander’s scowl deepened as he turned and left the terrace.

Nick watched him leave before turning his attention to Jordan. He looked her over, his voice softening. “Are you all right?”

“Yes.” She exhaled as he walked over. “That got a little too close for comfort for a moment there.” She gestured to his face. “What’s with the look?”

“It’s my don’t-fuck-with-me face.”

Jordan nodded, impressed. “It’s not bad.”

“Thanks.” Nick smiled slightly, and the tension seemed to lift as the darkness left his face. He raised an eyebrow. “You handled yourself well.”

Yes, true, she pretty much rocked this assignment. Except for the part where she’d nearly broken out in hives. And that little bit at the end there, when Nick sort of had to rescue her from Xander.

Jordan chose her words carefully, just in case anyone was listening. “Were you able to find some way to amuse yourself while I was up here?”

Nick tucked his hands into his pockets and shrugged casually. “I found a few things to divert my attention.”

She couldn’t help but smile. He always seemed so effortlessly confident, as if nothing fazed him. “That’s good.”

As they stood there, each taking in the other, an uncharacteristic silence fell between them. A cold breeze blew over Jordan’s shoulders. With their assignment now complete, she realized that her work with the FBI was nearly over. At the end of the night, she and Nick would go their separate ways. Later, someday, she would have one heck of a story to tell her girlfriends.

Tough to say what she would tell them about Nick. Probably, she’d talk about how he annoyed her a good eighty-seven percent of the time they were together.

“You’re shivering. We probably should get back inside,” he said.

“We probably should.” Jordan’s eyes held Nick’s for another moment, then she finally turned and began to walk toward the door that led inside the restaurant. She heard Nick clear his throat pointedly and glanced back over her shoulder.

He held out his hand, waiting. “Sweetie?”

Right. In a couple of slow strides, Jordan crossed the distance between them and slid her hand into Nick’s. His grip was warm, firm, and strong. She caught the satisfied expression on his face. “You’re enjoying yourself quite a bit this evening, aren’t you?”

He laughed, tilting his head in acknowledgment.

“More than I’d thought, Rhodes. I’ll give you that.”

FROM A CORNER in the far end of the VIP room, Xander Eckhart stood in a circle of his friends. He watched as Jordan and Stanton walked in and made their way over to the bar. When she smiled at something Stanton said, Xander’s eyes narrowed.

Out of the corner of his eye he spotted Will Parsons, one of Bordeaux’s two managers. “Excuse me for a moment. I need to check on something.” Xander stepped away from the group.

“Seems like the night is going well so far,” Will said when he approached.

Sure, Xander thought. Except for the part where he had to watch some jerk-off who owned rental property and didn’t know the first thing about wine get cozy with the woman who was supposed to be with him tonight.

“I need you to call Gil Mercks for me,” he said, referring to the man they often used for what one might consider “sticky” situations. “Tell him I need to see him immediately. He should go around to the back door and call me on my cell phone when he gets here. It’s important the guests don’t see him.”

Will sounded surprised. “You need Mercks tonight? Is there a security issue? I just checked the cellar and spoke to the guard. He wasn’t aware of any problem.”

If there was one thing Xander didn’t like, it was people who asked too many questions. “It’s a personal matter. Just call Mercks and tell him to get here as soon as possible.”

XANDER WAITED DOWNSTAIRS in his office. Mercks had left him a message, letting him know that he was five minutes from Bordeaux. He appreciated the notice, having needed a few minutes to slip away from the many guests who wanted to corner him and gush about the wine. Normally he basked in such adoration, but not tonight.

He eased back in his desk chair and ran his hand through his hair. For five months he’d foolishly waited to make a move on Jordan. He’d had his chance that afternoon in her store, when they’d talked about her Napa trip, but her damn assistant had cock-blocked him. Then her brother had pulled his Twitter stunt and she’d become consumed with family matters. After a few weeks had passed without the right moment arising, and then a couple months, he had decided to create the perfect moment himself – at his party. Wine was their thing, after all, a passion they shared. Jordan would know what he’d been trying to tell her when she saw the tasting menu, without him even having to say the words.