Seduced In San Diego. Reese Ryan

      So why did she feel a desperate sense of longing as Jordan moved from one person to the next? And the tug of the green-eyed monster as he flashed that big smile and focused his penetrating gaze on the other women there?

      This is business, not The Dating Game. Stay focused and stop acting like a jealous girlfriend.

      Sasha heaved a sigh and passed on another glass of champagne. She checked her watch one last time.

      She’d come here tonight to observe Jordan. She hadn’t intended to engage him in conversation. Not yet, anyway. He was busy tonight. It would be better if she made an appointment to meet with him in his office. In a situation that felt a lot less...flirtatious.

      Sasha grabbed a brochure and headed toward the exit.

      “You’re not leaving.” Jordan caught her elbow before she reached the door. “I know I’ve been away a lot longer than I expected, but I’d love it if you’d stay a bit longer.”

      “You’re obviously quite busy tonight. Which is exactly what you want.” She forced a smile to hide the disappointment she felt at leaving his company.

      “If you stay, I’ll make it worth your while.” His eyes lit up as a smile slid across his handsome face. The kind of smile it was hard to say no to.

      She leaned in closer, her voice low. “And exactly how do you plan to make it worth my while?”

      “With a private tour.” His intense gaze felt like a laser peering into her soul. Dissolving her will like copper in a hot, smelting furnace.

      “The gallery is quite lovely, but I do believe I’ve seen just about all of it during the course of the evening. Except, of course, the men’s room.”

      Jordan’s laughter rang through the gallery and her cheeks heated in response.

      “I think it’s better if that particular space remains a mystery. However, I’d love to give you a behind-the-scenes tour of the gallery, including my studio next door.”

      Sasha’s pulse sped up, her chest rising and falling rapidly. She couldn’t tear her gaze away from his.

      What is it about this man that is so...mesmerizing?

      Jordan Jace certainly wasn’t the first handsome man with a great smile she’d encountered. So why was he so damn intriguing?

      Perhaps too intriguing for someone she hoped to work with.

      Saying yes to his flirtatious overture was a bad idea. And yet...she couldn’t say no.

      “I don’t suppose I could turn down an opportunity like that.” She stepped away to create some space. He released her arm with a knowing smile. “How exactly did I merit such a high honor?”

      His eyes twinkled. “Because, Sasha Charles, there is something about you that I find inspiring. And I can’t rest until I know exactly what that is.”

      Jordan was gone before she could respond.

      Sasha exhaled, her eyes pressed closed momentarily. She’d hoped that Jordan’s attraction to her would make her job easier. But her attraction to him would surely make the situation more challenging.

      Still, this was an opportunity she couldn’t pass up. So she’d have to put on her big-girl panties, keep Jordan Jace out of them and pull herself together.

      * * *

      “I’m sorry, ma’am, but the gallery is closed now.” Jordan’s assistant, a pretty woman with mousy brown hair, sparkling blue eyes and oversize glasses, approached Sasha.

      She stood from the red sofa where she’d been seated. The glittery heels she’d chosen to wear were gorgeous, but her feet were killing her.

      “I’m waiting. For Jordan.” Sasha suddenly felt incredibly self-conscious. How many art groupies had sat in the same seat spouting the same line?

      The woman frowned. “Did Jordan ask you to wait for him?” The question felt accusatory.

      “Yes, I did.” Jordan walked over to the woman and put a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “Sasha Charles is my guest this evening.” He turned to Sasha. “Sasha, meet Lydia Dyson, my right hand here at the gallery. I honestly don’t know what I’d do without her.”

      “Nice to meet you,” the woman said, though her tone indicated otherwise. She squinted at Sasha as she pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose. When her eyes met Jordan’s briefly, she smiled. “He’s being too kind, of course. I’m incredibly lucky that I get to work with the great Jordan Jace.” Lydia gazed at him adoringly. A fact that seemed to go right over Jordan’s head. “But I appreciate the compliment, anyway.”

      “I’ll lock up tonight. You head on home. And come in a few hours late tomorrow. I insist,” he added, before Lydia could object. Jordan broadened his smile. “Take a couple of bottles of champagne on your way out. You’ve earned them. Tonight was magnificent.”

      Lydia perked up and nodded. The woman turned and walked away, tossing a good-night over her shoulder.

      “Hey.” Jordan shoved his hands in his pockets, his eyes meeting hers with an intensity that sparked something inside her.

      “Hey.” Sasha tightened her grip on her clutch. Heat filled her cheeks.

      “I’m glad you stayed.” He indicated a doorway at the back of the studio and they both walked toward it. “Can I get you a glass of wine or a bite to eat?”

      “I’ve had quite enough tonight already, thank you.” Sasha held up a hand. There was no way she could pull off this encounter successfully if she wasn’t completely sober. Not with electricity dancing up her spine as she walked beside this man.

      “As you wish.” He opened the door, which led down a narrow corridor.

      Sasha halted in her tracks and took a deep breath. Her eyes met his. “Look, Jordan, I appreciate the chance to tour your studio. But if the invitation is really just the modern-day equivalent of offering to ‘show me your etchings’...”

      Jordan’s deep belly laugh made her cheeks burn, but she couldn’t help chuckling, too. He raised his hands, his palms facing her.

      “I have every intention of being a gentleman tonight. I assure you.” He grinned. “I just thought you might like to see the method behind my madness, so to speak. Of course, after tonight...well that, love, is up to you.”

      Sasha exhaled and headed down the brick corridor. Her heels clicked against the concrete floor as Jordan walked beside her.

      Finally, he opened another door and turned on the light. The unfinished brick walls, stained concrete floor and steel beams overhead gave the cavernous space the same spare, raw feel as the gallery.

      “My assistant hosed down the floor this morning, but it is still a working studio. So perhaps you should be careful with that lovely dress.” Jordan held the door open.

      “Lydia hosed down the floor?” Sasha gathered the hem of her dress in one hand and followed Jordan into the studio.

      “No, Lydia is my gallery assistant,” Jordan clarified. “A young man named Marcus Whitten is my studio assistant.”

      “I see.” Sasha surveyed the space. It smelled of welded metal, but it was surprisingly clean for a studio that housed rolls of sheet metal and industrial shelving bearing metal pipes, buckets of nuts, bolts, chains and a variety of other cast-off pieces of metal. “And what does a sculptor’s assistant do? Besides hose down the floor?”

      “Thankfully, quite a bit.” Jordan beckoned her farther into the space. “When I started out, I did everything myself. The salvaging, the cutting and prepping and all of the welding. Sometimes I worked on more than one piece at a time, but it could take weeks or even months to complete them.”

      “And now?”

      “Now I