The Summer Wedding: Groom Wanted / The Man You'll Marry. Debbie Macomber

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СКАЧАТЬ thirty minutes passed before they reached Andrew Howard’s ocean-side estate. Jill suspected it was the longest Jordan had gone without a business conversation since he’d registered at the hotel.

      Her heart pounded as they approached the beautifully landscaped grounds. A security guard pushed a button that opened a huge wrought-iron gate. They drove down a private road, nearly a mile long and bordered on each side by rolling green lawns and tropical flower beds. At the end stood a sprawling stone house.

      No sooner had the car stopped than Mr. Howard hurried out of the house, grinning broadly.

      “Welcome, welcome!” He greeted them expansively, holding out his arms to Jill.

      In a spontaneous display of affection, she hugged him and kissed his cheek. “Thank you so much for inviting us.”

      “The pleasure’s all mine. Come inside. Everything’s ready and waiting.” After exchanging a hearty handshake with Jordan, Mr. Howard led the way into his home.

      Jill had been impressed with the outside, but the beauty of the interior overwhelmed her. The entry was tiled in white marble and illuminated by a sparkling crystal chandelier. Huge crystal vases of vivid pink and purple hibiscus added color and life. From there, Mr. Howard escorted them into a massive living room with floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked the Pacific. Frothing waves crashed against the shore, bathed in the fire of an island sunset.

      “This is so lovely,” Jill breathed in awe.

      “I knew you’d appreciate it.” Mr. Howard reached for a bell, which he rang once. Almost immediately the housekeeper appeared, carrying a tray of glasses and bottles of white and red wine, sherry and assorted aperitifs.

      They were sipping their drinks when the same woman reappeared. “Mr. Wilcox, there’s a phone call for you.”

      It was all Jill could do not to gnash her teeth. The man was never free, the phone cord wrapped around his neck more tightly than a hangman’s noose.

      “Excuse me, please,” Jordan said as he left the room, his step brisk.

      Jill looked away, refusing to watch him go.

      “How do you feel about that young man?” Mr. Howard asked bluntly when Jordan was gone.

      “We met only recently. I—I don’t have any feelings for him one way or the other.”

      “Well, then, what do you think of him?”

      Jill stared down at her wine. “He works too hard.”

      Sighing, the old man nodded and rubbed his eyes. “He reminds me of myself more than thirty years ago. Sometimes I’d like to take him by the shoulders and shake some sense into him, but I doubt it’d do much good. That boy’s too stubborn to listen. Unfortunately, he’s a lot like his father.”

      Knowing so little of Jordan and his background, Jill was eager to learn what she could. At the same time, a saner part of her insisted she was better off not hearing this. The more she knew, the greater her chances of caring.

      Nevertheless, Jill found herself asking curiously, “What made Jordan the way he is?”

      “To begin with, his parents divorced when he was young. It was a sad situation.” Andrew leaned forward and clasped his wineglass with both hands. “It was plain as the nose on your face that James and Donna Wilcox were in love. But, somehow, bitterness replaced the love, and their son became a weapon they used against each other.”

      “Oh, how sad.” Just as she’d feared, Jill felt herself sympathizing with Jordan.

      “They both married other people, and Jordan seemed to remind his parents of their earlier unhappiness. He was sent to the best boarding schools, but there was precious little love in his life. Before he died, James tried to build a relationship with his son, but …” He shrugged. “And to the best of my knowledge his mother hasn’t seen him since he was a teenager. I’m afraid he’s had very little experience of real love, the kind that gives life meaning. Oh, there’ve been women, plenty of them, but never one who could teach him how to love and bring joy into his life—until now.” He paused and looked pointedly at Jill.

      “As I said before, I’ve only known Jordan for a short time.”

      “Be patient with him,” Mr. Howard continued, as though Jill hadn’t spoken. “Jordan’s talented, don’t get me wrong—the boy’s got a way of pulling a deal together that amazes just about everyone—but there are times when he seems to forget about human values, like compassion. And the ability to enjoy what you have.”

      Jill wasn’t sure how to respond.

      “Frankly, I was beginning to lose faith in him,” Mr. Howard said, grinning sheepishly. “He can be hard and unforgiving. You’ve given me the first ray of hope.”

      Jill took a big swallow of wine.

      “He needs you. Your warmth, your gentleness, your love.”

      Jill wanted to weep with frustration. Andrew Howard was telling her exactly what she didn’t want to hear. “I think you’re mistaken,” she murmured.

      He chuckled. “I doubt that, but I’m an old man, so indulge me, will you?”

      “Of course, but—”

      “There’s a reason you’ve come into his life,” he said, gazing intently at her. “A very important reason.” Andrew closed his eyes. “I feel this more profoundly than I’ve felt anything in a long while. He needs you, Jill.”

      “No … I’m sure he doesn’t.” Jill realized she was beginning to sound desperate, but she couldn’t help it.

      The old man’s eyes opened slowly and he smiled. “And I’m just as sure he does.” He would have continued, but Jordan returned to the room then.

      From the marinated-shrimp appetizer to the homemade mango-and-pineapple ice cream, dinner was one of the most delectable, elegant meals Jill had ever tasted. They lingered over coffee, followed by a glass of smooth brandy. By the end of the evening, Jill felt mellow and warm, a dangerous sensation. Jordan had been wonderful company—witty, charming, fun. He seemed more relaxed, too. Apparently the phone call had brought good news; it was the only thing to which she could attribute his cheerfulness.

      “I can’t thank you enough,” she told Andrew when the limousine arrived to drive her and Jordan back to the hotel. “It was a lovely evening.”

      The older man hugged Jill and whispered close to her ear, “Remember what I said.” Breaking away, he extended his hand, gripping Jordan’s elbow. “It was good of you to come.”

      “I’ll be in touch soon,” Jordan promised.

      “I’ll look forward to hearing from you. Let me know what happens with this shopping-mall project.”

      “I will,” Jordan said.

      The car was cool and inviting in the warm night. Before she realized it, Jill found her head resting on Jordan’s broad shoulder. “Oh, sorry,” she mumbled through a yawn.

      “Are СКАЧАТЬ