An Heiress on His Doorstep

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“Mrs. Patterson,” Jordan said, “It’s very kind of you. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate your concern. But it’s probably best if I go with the sheriff. I’ve imposed on you too much,” she said, then slid a glare in J.P.’s direction.

“Jane, dear,” Audrey said, taking her hand. “It’s no imposition. We enjoy having you here.”

“Mother, she’s a stranger. It’s Rick’s job to help strangers. Right, Sheriff?”

“J.P.’s right, ma’am,” the sheriff said.

Audrey glared at her son. “J.P., I’m surprised at you. You, too, Rick Michaels. No man is an island. We need to reach out to each other.”

“But she’s not a man, and we don’t know anything about her,” J.P. pointed out.

“I know all I need to. And you’re very well aware that I’m an excellent judge of character. I absolutely won’t hear of her leaving. And that’s final.”

“It’s not really up to you, Mom.” He looked at Jordan. “Are you going to drag this out?”

Drag it out? Her? Anger roared through Jordan and settled in her chest until she could hardly breathe. He’d started this. Him and her father. She’d been bullied and terrified. Ripped from her life and dumped in the middle of nowhere. And this bozo had the nerve to imply this was her fault? He acted like he wanted her gone. Then what would he do? Another kidnapping? Something worse? In cahoots with her father? The two of them had to be stopped.

Talking to her father about his previous stunts hadn’t worked. Words weren’t enough. She needed a statement—something big. Something the two of them would understand. But what? Her father obviously wanted her with J.P. Sooner or later he would make a move on her. This suspicious act was no doubt a psychological ploy to keep her off balance.

Well, she would turn the tables on him and her father. Take them both down in one fell swoop. For men like Harman Bishop and J. P. Patterson, failure to achieve a desired objective was not an option. If she let on that she knew what they were up to and went quietly, it was nothing more than a bump in the road. If she stayed and played them like a finely tuned fiddle, failure would be bigger and more humiliating. That would scuttle their plans and teach them not to mess with Jordan Bishop.

When J.P. came on to her, she would cut him off at the knees. She would teach him and her father not to meddle in her life.

“Jane, are you all right?” Audrey squeezed her hands. “What do you say?”

She’d planned to spend her vacation relaxing. Her spirit could relax better after a bit of retaliation. She felt safe. Her father knew J.P., probably through business. But no matter how angry she was with Harman Bishop, she didn’t for a moment believe he would harm her or choose a man who would hurt her physically.

Although she felt guilty taking advantage of Audrey’s generous nature, she needed time to plan. Jordan would find a way to make it up to her.

She met Audrey’s gaze. “You’re very kind. I gladly accept your hospitality.”

Chapter Four

Sitting at his desk in the library, J.P. looked up from the spreadsheet on his computer screen. Jane was in the room. He couldn’t even say a sound had alerted him to her presence. He wished she’d come in making as much noise as a high school marching band, but she hadn’t. Somehow he’d just sensed she was there. And that was damned annoying. She stood just inside the door, staring with a sort of awestruck expression at the floor-to-ceiling bookcases ringing the perimeter of the room.

“May I help you?”

She whirled at the sound of his voice and pressed a palm to her chest. “Good heavens, you startled me. I didn’t know anyone was in here.”

Like hell she didn’t. “I’m working.”

“Surely you have an office?”

“You’re in it,” he said.

“I mean outside the home.” One delicate, dark eye-brow arched. “Or are you hanging around the house to keep an eye on me?”

So she’d noticed. Unfortunately, he’d noticed she wasn’t hard on the eyes. And the ridiculous outfit she wore did nothing to lessen the impact. His mother’s sweats were too long and baggy for Jane and the snug T-shirt molded to her upper body. Both items only emphasized how small she was.

“I have an office. But I’m working from home today in order to spend some time with my mother. Where is she, by the way?”

“You mean did I whack her and dispose of the body in the rose garden?”

Sass, he thought intrigued. The quick comeback was evidence of a keen intellect. And whatever characteristics she might possess, shyness wasn’t one of them. He tucked the information away.

“I see you have an imagination and you know how to use it,” he commented.

“Maybe I’m a creative person.” She stood in front of his desk and tapped a finger against her lips. “I’ve been giving it some thought. And I think maybe I do something with interior design and decoration.”

“Really?” He leaned back in his tufted leather chair and studied her.

“I think I had one of those memory bursts your mother mentioned.” Her gaze swung in a semicircle and touched on elements of the room. “Just looking around this house, ideas are coming to me—material swatches, paint chips, traffic patterns, rearranging furniture. I have a very strong sense that I do decorating for a living. So there may be some truth in what your mother says about a connection between R and R and memory recovery.”

“I see.”

“And by the way, I didn’t whack her. She said when I saw you to tell you she forgot about a doctor’s appointment. It’s her yearly checkup and you shouldn’t worry. And if her doctor is running as late as usual, she’ll probably stay at a hotel in town.”

Just like Audrey to take in a stray and leave everything to him. J.P. sighed. “Well, here we are then.”

“Yes.” She glanced at the bookshelves. “This room reminds me of the scene in Beauty and the Beast when Belle goes into the library for the first time.”

“Another memory flash?” he asked.

“Apparently. Speaking of the beast,” she said, her gaze narrowing on him. “Are you always so warm and inviting?”