She drew in a controlling breath. ‘I don’t think the two of us resorting to insults is going to help ease the awkwardness of this situation,’ she told him with a calmness she didn’t feel.
‘I didn’t realise I was being insulting,’ Jordan rasped. ‘I thought I was just stating the facts as they happened to be.’
This man knew what he was doing one hundred per cent of the time, facts or no facts, and he knew he had been insulting her just now. And it was true, she had married a wealthy man, and her pregnancy had been the reason for the hasty marrriage. But Jordan was wrong if he thought she had trapped Russell into that marriage; he had trapped her.
‘Only as you know them,’ she said quietly.
‘As they were,’ Jordan hit out harshly. ‘Russell was devastated when you left him and took Dani with you. The divorce almost finished him completely.’
She was well aware of Russell’s feelings. Just as she was aware of her own. And her only emotion at the time of the divorce had been relief—and freedom. ‘I didn’t come to Jersey to discuss the past—’
‘Why did you come back here?’ His eyes were dark velvet.
‘As you’ve already pointed out, I’m a businesswoman,’ she stated calmly, ‘and this trip will combine business and Dani’s visit to her grandparents.’
‘I take it you will be attending this visit with her?’ he drawled.
She gave him a sharply searching look. ‘Of course. Is there some objection to that?’
‘None at all,’ he returned smoothly. ‘How long do you intend staying on the island?’
Her mouth twisted at the bluntness of the question. ‘Are you part of the same security that requires all visitors to the island to sign a police register when you book into the hotel?’ she taunted.
‘No.’ His harsh tone told her he was far from amused. ‘But you must have some idea how long you intend staying.’
Willow frowned. ‘I’d planned to stay until Thursday,’ she told him somewhat warily; what did it matter to him how long she stayed? ‘I have a fashion show to finish arranging for early next month.’
‘I see.’ Jordan put down his empty glass on the table, his expression thoughtful.
Willow eyed him suspiciously. He seemed uneasy about something, and she had a feeling she wasn’t going to like that something. ‘Jordan, what is it?’ she prompted nervously.
‘Has the island changed much since you were here last?’ he enquired lightly.
‘It’s as beautiful as ever,’ she dismissed tersely. ‘Now tell me what’s wrong.’ Because something definitely was!
He raised arrogant dark brows at the demand. ‘Nothing is wrong.’ He looked out along the bay. ‘It’s rare that I actually have the time to stand still long enough to take in the beauty of St Brelade’s Bay,’ he murmured softly. ‘I forget just how lovely it is here sometimes.’
As one of the numerous financial advisers on the island, Jordan was an extremely busy man, the island being a thriving financial centre with its enviable rate of tax and other benefits. And yet Willow wasn’t sidetracked by his observations at all, knowing he was keeping something from her.
‘You may as well tell me, Jordan,’ she prompted tautly. ‘If you don’t I’ll have to ask Simone,’ she added threateningly, knowing how all the men in the family were protective of the tiny woman who had somehow managed to conceal her steely heart and determined nature from them all.
His mouth tightened at the threat, his eyes narrowed. ‘You’re out of your league with me, Willow,’ he told her softly.
She didn’t so much as blink at his tone of menace, watching as a grudging respect for her entered his eyes. He could keep his damned respect; she just wanted some straight answers! ‘I mean it, Jordan,’ she challenged.
‘So do I,’ he rasped.
A shiver of apprehension rippled down her spine, but there was no outward sign of her disturbed emotions as she continued to silently meet his gaze, willing him to talk to her.
Jordan’s gaze was finally the one to turn away. ‘You’ve turned into a veritable tigress, haven’t you?’ he scorned.
‘I’ve merely become a survivor,’ she bit out.
He shrugged. ‘It may not even happen. He’s said he was coming before and then changed his mind without warning. Simone——’
‘He?’ Willow echoed sharply. ‘You mean Russell, don’t you?’ Her unlacquered nails dug into the palms of her hands, her body rigid with tension. ‘Are you telling me he’s coming here?’
Jordan gave another dismissive shrug. ‘He only said he might visit Simone and David some time this week; nothing definite has been planned.’
‘Did he know Dani and I were going to be here?’ she demanded to know.
‘I doubt it, although Simone may have mentioned it to him. For God’s sake, don’t look so stricken; you were married to him once,’ Jordan added disgustedly.
Russell. Here. Russell, with the laughing blue eyes, overlong dark hair, and with the body of a Greek god. It had been a year since she had last seen him, the first six months of that time spent expecting to see him every time she opened the door or turned a corner, the next six months spent grateful that she hadn’t.
It was this last year of peace and tranquillity that had given her the hope he had changed during that time.
But maybe he hadn’t.
WILLOW’S first instinct when she crawled out of bed the next morning after a sleepless night was to run, and to keep running. But she had done that when she finally managed to leave him, and he had only found her again, refusing to stay out of her life. Maybe it was time to stand and face him. She didn’t really have any choice; knew, for Dani’s sake, that she couldn’t keep running away from Russell. And maybe, just maybe, he would decide not to come here after all. It was a cowardly wish, but then she had never professed to be anything else.
While Barbara took Dani down on to the beach in front of the hotel, Willow drove into St Helier to visit her new shop, confident she could concentrate on business with the other woman in charge of Dani. The amount of customers in the shop, despite the early hour, showed her she had indeed chosen well for her third location.
It was good to see Marilyn again; she had been in charge of the London shop until moving here; the two of them were old friends. For someone who hadn’t been sure she could adjust to living on an island only forty-five square miles in size, Marilyn had adjusted very well, and was ecstatic about the beautiful weather and the friendliness of the islanders.
Willow enjoyed helping out in the shop for the morning, caught up with the last three months’ gossip with Marilyn in between working, and was satisfied that everything was running smoothly there before she left shortly after twelve, sure that the new lines she would be introducing at the fashion show next month would go over very well here.
She had told Barbara and Dani that she would join them back at the hotel for lunch, and she was buoyed up with the success of her morning as she went down to join them on the beach, coming to a halt part way down the steps as she saw the dark-haired man sitting with them on the sand, with Dani chatting away to him as if the two of them were old friends.
Then the man turned, and Willow’s breath left her body in a ragged sigh as she saw it was Jordan seated there. For a moment she had thought Dani was