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Restoring Jordan By Elizabeth Finn

When Adeline Parker decides to celebrate landing a coveted internship at one of Chicago’s most prestigious architectural firms by indulging in a brutally dark and handsome man, she gets more than she bargained for.

Lost in a maze of hallways on the first day of her new position, she stumbles headlong into a boardroom of suits. Very expensive suits. They are the somebodies of this prestigious firm, and she is, by all accounts, the very definition of a nobody. And sitting at the table with the rest of the principals from the firm is a man—the very man who unwittingly deflowered her only days before.

From the look of it, Jordan Ellinwood is none too happy to see her again; by his own admission, he’s a one-night-stand man, and the fact she conned him into taking her virginity isn’t sitting well with him either. But as her path is inextricably attached to his, their closeness will no longer be a choice.

As an intern, she’s off-limits, and that says nothing of the fact he’s twelve years older than she is. But when coworkers bent on jealousy and resentment threaten her reputation and internship, the long-dormant emotions Jordan has so effectively stifled fight to break free. And as he struggles to get out of his own way long enough to let her see his compassion, her career is jeopardized and leaves him fighting with every last ounce of himself to save her.

Will it be enough? Can he overcome his emotional shortcomings in time to rescue her future and his own—now so very attached to hers?

Genre: Contemporary Romance
Release Date: December 17, 2012
Publisher: Liquid Silver Books
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Excerpt:
Within moments, I’m lost in a maze of hallways and not one of them leads anywhere of particular interest, but as I round a corner into an open expansive room with an amazing view of the downtown skyline, I freeze midstep. I’ve just walked into a room of six men sitting at a massive boardroom table. The conversation stops instantly as all eyes move to me, and I’m suddenly feeling more underdressed than when I met Vera Bitch and her pristine winter-white pant suit. Instead, I’m standing by in my black pants, white shirt, and gray cardigan I attempted to dress up with a thin black belt. These men, on the other hand, are clad in suits—expensive by the look. And while I’ve not yet had the chance to regard any one of the men in particular, I haven’t missed the many thousand dollars’ worth of expensive wool fabric.

“Please come in. We weren’t expecting company, but since you decided to pay us a visit, you might as well stay.” His words aren’t unfriendly; he’s amused at my interruption, and he appears to be in charge here. He’s handsome but older, and his expression remains calm and good-natured. But it isn’t he who stops me in my tracks as I approach the table; it’s the brutally handsome dark-haired man staring from the opposite side of the table. And while I may not know his name, I do know him. I can’t take my eyes from his, and as I continue to hold his gaze, my breath escapes me in a rush that leaves my mouth hanging open. His composure shows his control and calm, but his jaw tenses with a slight shake of his head. His eyes flit from mine, and I catch the “fuck” mouthed silently.

The older man who spoke upon my entrance is watching in amusement, and it’s he who speaks first. “I’m Jonathan Foster. I’m the owner, and you are?” His smile is genuine, and his interest in my presence at Foster’s is likewise.

“I’m … I’m so sorry to interrupt. I just … got lost. I’m … Adeline Parker—the new intern.” I sound terrified, mortified, and I am. I’m the nobody, as my pathetic cubicle has made abundantly clear today, standing in a room of somebodys, and not just any somebodys, but the somebodys. As my gaze returns to the unknown stranger who deflowered me a mere three nights previous, he meets my eyes and speaks.

“Adeline, hmm?” and after a long and drawn-out pause, “lovely name,” and his gaze remains on me. The other men in the room all stand and introduce themselves, and when it’s his turn, he stands and reaches for my hand. His eyes remain on mine as our hands touch, and he enfolds my small hand in his much larger, masculine grip. “I’m Jordan Ellinwood, Principal of Restorations.” Jordan. My skin tingles and trills at the warmth of his touch, and my mind flashes with memories of his hands, his touch, his mouth on my skin, his intense invasion of my body, and as my mind rewinds to the night we spent together, my gaze drops to his lips. They’re beautiful lips. He never kissed me, and now, in this most inappropriate place, it’s all I can think about.

His hand still holds mine, and as my gaze returns to his, he speaks once more in a near whisper as he releases my hand from our overlong touch. “Adeline.” As the other men in the room eye us with curiosity, Mr. Foster speaks.

“Do you two know one another?”

Yes, we fucked three nights ago. “No.” Sometimes I lie, and Jordan’s raised brow speaks volumes as my gaze returns to his. I’m not sure what his brow is actually saying, but it’s definitely saying something. But he doesn’t out my lie. Instead, he shakes his head with slow deliberation, feigning unfamiliarity of me. This was not supposed to happen. When I regretted I wouldn’t see him again, this wasn’t quite the solution I was imagining, and the unreadable expression on his face has me confused and nervous.

*
How the hell did this happen, and why the hell can’t I stop staring? Adeline. She looks like an Adeline … not that I’ve met any Adelines to know what an Adeline is supposed to look like, but it’s her. The virgin … former virgin, whose name has plagued me for days now—never mind the memories of her that have followed me around these long days since our parting and allowed me no restful sleep. Realizing I’d slept with a virgin was perplexing. I wanted to yell at her. She had no right to put me in that position, but at the same moment, I wanted to see her again—have her again. This is most definitely not a typical response for me; beyond that, it’s unreasonable. I don’t know her. I have no reason to desire her, but I do. And now standing in front of me just as nervous as she was three nights before, all I want to do is fuck her … and maybe yell at her.

She looks out of place. Again, she’s clad in what can only be generic garments, including the same pants I had so much fun removing last week. She looks put together and neat, but her style is lacking in comparison to the style of Foster’s. Her warm chestnut hair is piled on top of her head in a loose bun with long, trailing wisps of hair cascading along the line of her jaw and neck. Her small pink lips are damn near trembling in her nervousness, and her light crystal-blue eyes are wide and terrified. Her jewelry looks as cheap as her delicious perfume smells. Yet, I want her. The why is unclear, but my God, the want is undeniable and strong. Were I alone with her, I’m not at all certain I could stop myself from touching her. One-night stand or not, this one has left a mark.

It’s impossible of course, especially now. I’m a principal, and she’s an intern—nepotism clause bullshit, but the rules are the rules, and even if there were no rules, a one-night stand is just that. This will no doubt complicate the next few months of my life, but still, I’m now looking forward to this time with a much-improved outlook. She will definitely be fun to have around, even if I can’t fuck her.

As she makes her escape with one last glance over her shoulder to my eyes, I let my gaze trail after her. Her tight little tush is a joy to see leaving, and even clothed in black I can imagine the small cheeks moving sweetly with every step she takes. Once away from me again, my mind refuses to think about anything but her, and once I’m finally set free from my obligations to the other principals and Foster, I’m pissed when I finally manage to locate her pathetic little cubicle buried in cubicle land and she’s gone for the day.
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