9 1/2 Days by Mia Zachary Page A

self-conscious. “Um, the money David and I inherited when we turned twenty-one.”
    “You guys are rich?” Jordan shook her head as she followed him up the main stairs to the second floor. “I’m beginning to think I don’t know anything about my supposed fiancés.”
    “It’s not something we go around bragging about. In fact, David almost never mentions it outside of our parents’ social circle.”
    “Hmm, I just realized I’ve never heard David mention your family.”
    “We’re not that close to our parents. Especially me. I’ve been the black sheep ever since I didn’t follow in their legal footsteps.” He pulled a set of keys out of his pocket and opened the door to his apartment. “Here we are.”
    She walked past him into a narrow entryway leading to a living room on her left. Everything from the hardwood floor to the plush area rugs and ten-foot ceilings was a warm earth tone in color. Overstuffed chocolate suede sofas were positioned in front of the biggest entertainment center she’d ever seen. All four walls displayed black lacquer-framed 1940s movie posters above blond wood shelves filled with books, music and DVDs.
    Jordan loved the living room immediately. They shared a lot of favorite novels and films. It was easy, too easy, to imagine curling up with him on the couch and watching Pillow Talk or His Girl Friday. She turned to find Danny standing close behind her, his hands in his front pockets and his lips curved into a smile.
    He looked perfect in this room, his dark brown curls and mocha skin just as warm and inviting as the room itself. She felt a magnetic force drawing her toward him and purposefully stepped back. No matter how attracted she was, and despite what had happened last night, she wasn’t the type for casual sex.
    “All right. Why the identity switch at the airport?”
    Danny shifted from one foot to the other. “Are you hungry?”
    “Hungry?” She wrinkled her brow, momentarily thrown off-balance. “I thought we were going to talk?”
    “We can talk while we eat, can’t we?” He shrugged, his hands still in his pockets, making him look boyishly handsome.
    Jordan sighed heavily. “Fine. I did skip lunch today.”
    “What do you feel like?” Danny turned toward the kitchen.
    She watched him walk down the hall, his stride easy and fluid, and his long, lean body filling out his jeans in a way that ought to be illegal. What did she feel like? She felt like leaving. Otherwise, she might rip off his clothes.
    The small galley-style kitchen was spartan but everything was top quality. Black-and-white floor tiles complemented the granite sink and Jenn-Air stove and the white dishwasher and Sub-Zero refrigerator. The stovetop, microwave and toaster oven were spotless. The only appliance that looked used was the bright red state-of-the-art blender sitting on the countertop.
    “I take it you don’t cook much?”
    Danny stood in front of a letter sorter, rifling through a collection of restaurant carryout menus. “No, but I eat a lot. How about Japanese?”
    “Sounds good. Order me some tempura, please.”
    As soon as he hung up the phone, Jordan crossed her arms and tried again to initiate the conversation they were supposed to be having. “Okay, Danny. We came to your place. We’ve ordered dinner. Now start explaining.”
    “It’s simple enough. David couldn’t get out of the office after all, and asked me to stand in.”
    She cocked her head to one side. “You had me drive all the way up here just to tell me that?”
    “And so you’d have dinner with me.”
    His grin was incredibly charming, but she had to resist. Haywire hormones made it difficult to think straight. “Thank you for standing in. You won’t have to again.”
    “That’s fine with me. I don’t do engagements.”
    “Neither do I. That’s how I got myself into this situation. But in a couple of weeks I’ll tell them the engagement is off.”
    He dipped his head, indicating the diamond ring she