“No. But I’ve heard good things.”

“It’s amazing,” Jordan said. “I stayed in a private lodge overlooking a canyon. Every morning I had breakfast on the deck as the sun came over the hills, and at night I sat under the stars drinking wine.”

“Now tell me that wouldn’t have been better with someone else there.” Xander folded his arms across his chest, as if daring her to contradict him on this. He wore a crisp black designer shirt with the top two buttons undone, charcoal gray pants, and a brand new Jaeger LeCoultre watch. He was a good-looking man, but he had a certain air about him that occasionally rubbed Jordan the wrong way. He seemed very eager to show off his money, particularly around her.

Because he was such a good customer, she smiled, humoring him. “Maybe next time. There’ll be plenty more trips to Napa for me. I already have one planned for the beginning of March.”

“Why wait until then?” Xander pulled out his cell phone. “I can have us booked first-class in two minutes.”

She laughed. As if she could drop everything right then and hop on a plane. “I wish it were that easy.” She grabbed a couple bottles of the pinot and carried them to a bin near the front of the store.

“Jordan.”

The serious tone in Xander’s voice stopped her. She looked over her shoulder and saw that he had the oddest expression on his face.

“Is something wrong?” she asked.

Just then, Martin strolled into the room, having finished checking inventory in the cellar. “I think we should order another case of the Zulu. People have been going crazy for South African wines—oh, Mr. Eckhart, I didn’t realize you’d stopped in.” He paused and looked between them. “Am I interrupting something?”

Jordan thought she saw a flash of irritation in Xander’s eyes. But then it was gone, and she assumed she’d imagined it. Xander liked talking to Martin; the two of them had very similar tastes in wine. She saw no reason why he would be bothered by her store manager’s presence.

Xander waved off the question. “No interruption. Just enjoying this new pinot.” He gestured to his glass. “What’s the price point?”

“Thirty dollars a bottle.” Jordan continued to watch for any sign of the tension she’d seen on his face a moment ago. But there was nothing—he appeared as relaxed as always.

“I might have to start carrying it in my restaurants,” he said.

The three of them discussed the wine’s Robert Parker rating, and Martin’s belief that it had been unfairly undervalued because of Parker’s preference for big, bold reds. Shortly after that, Xander had left and Jordan didn’t give a second thought to that one odd moment.

But now, with the advantage of hindsight, she perhaps had a different take on the conversation.

Now, she couldn’t help but wonder if Xander had been interested in more than a new pinot that day. She’d assumed he’d been joking about the trip to Napa, but maybe not. Shortly after that conversation, Kyle had been arrested, and her life had fallen into complete chaos. She’d dropped out of the social scene and had taken a break from dating.

Perhaps Xander had been lying in wait since then. Holding off for a more appropriate time to reveal his feelings. Like tonight, with his “Homage to Jordan” wine list.

She locked eyes with Nick.

“We . . . may have a problem.”

Ten

A PROBLEM.

Not the words Nick wanted to hear right then. No agent in the middle of an undercover assignment wanted to hear those words.

He smiled politely at Rafe. “Could you excuse us for a moment? I need to have a word with my date.”

Without further ado, he took Jordan by the hand and pulled her off to the side of the room. He braced one hand on the wall next to her and peered down into her eyes. “Honey, before we came to this party, you might’ve mentioned that the host had the hots for you.”

She stared back up at him, not looking particularly intimidated. In eleven years of law enforcement, Nick had made many a suspect sweat under the duress of what he knew was an impressive don’t-fuck-with-me face, yet she didn’t so much as bat an eye. Granted, none of those suspects had been wearing a knockout dress with a slit nearly down to the ass, so perhaps the don’t-fuck-with-me face wasn’t in top form right then.

“I didn’t know myself, darling,” she said. “And we still don’t know that for sure. But let’s say for argument’s sake that Xander has more than a professional interest in me. Will that be a problem for you?”

Her words were careful and well chosen. To anyone who might be listening, it would seem as though she was merely placating a jealous lover, not an FBI agent who was a little cranky to be first learning of this development in the midst of an undercover op.

“I can handle it.” In some senses, Nick supposed, Eckhart’s attraction to Jordan could be a good thing. He doubted she would have much trouble convincing him to step away with her for a drink. Still, he was eager to keep things moving. They needed to mingle. Drink some wine. Plant a few wireless recording devices. The usual social obligations.

“We should rejoin the others,” he said.

“Wait.” Jordan put her hand on his arm, stopping him before he turned away. Her eyes were clouded with concern. “I’m sorry if I put you in an awkward position tonight. I honestly didn’t know until I saw the wine list.”

She looked so genuinely troubled right then, Nick couldn’t help what he did next. He reached out and touched her chin. “Don’t worry, Rhodes. I’ve got this.” He grinned. “I think there’s a glass of wine with your name on it at the bar.”