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Jordan was even more surprised to realize he wasn’t exempt from being visited by the green-eyed monster himself. Only the source was Molly. Once the meal had been served, the band struck up and space was cleared for dancing.
Jordan had originally intended to stay only for the first few dances, the traditional ones between bride and groom, but before he knew it he was on the dance floor, enjoying himself with Lesley.
He couldn’t remember the last time he’d let go like this. He was shocked by how good it felt to throw back his head and laugh.
Then he saw Molly, dancing.
The sight of her in the arms of another man had a curious effect on him. He felt like he’d been punched in the head.
He didn’t give any outward indication of what he felt, although he made an excuse to leave the dance floor soon afterward.
“Don’t tell me you’re tired already,” Lesley said. “We were just getting started.”
“I need something to drink.” Jordan grabbed a glass of champagne from a waiter’s tray as he walked past. He preferred red wine to champagne, but it was any port in a storm, so to speak, and he felt as if he’d been hit by hurricane-force winds.
It took some doing to divert his gaze from Molly and her partner, and focus his attention on Lesley instead. He didn’t recognize the tall, good-looking man with his soon-to-be ex-wife. He held her in a possessive way that incensed Jordan—even if he had no right to feel that way.
Thankfully there were plenty of acquaintances to renew, plenty of people to occupy him until he decided what he was going to do. If anything.
Carrying his champagne glass, Jordan circulated, introducing Lesley and doing his best to ignore the fact that his wife was in the arms of another man.
“Hello, Jordan, it’s good to see you.”
“Ian,” Jordan said, courteously inclining his head. “Have you met Lesley Walker?”
“Hello, Lesley,” Ian said, taking her hand and holding it in both of his. His father-in-law had always beena consummate charmer, and Lesley responded immediately, laughing and chatting.
However, she must have guessed that Ian wanted to speak privately to Jordan because a few minutes later, she quietly slipped away.
“You’re looking good,” Ian said and slapped him on the back. “Recovered from your little adventure, I see.”
Jordan frowned. “I’m fine. Get to it, Ian.”
“Get to it?” The old man raised his eyebrows, doing a fair job of pretending.
“Just say what you want to say,” Jordan told him.
Ian seemed amused. “I don’t have anything important to say,” Ian murmured, but his mouth quivered. “That might not be the case with my daughter, however. When was the last time you talked to her?”
“This week, why?”
“Why?” Ian said, breaking into a smile. “You’ll need to ask her that.”
“I will.” This was just the excuse Jordan had been looking for. He set his champagne glass aside and walked onto the dance floor. Molly’s eyes widened with surprise when he tapped her partner on the shoulder. “I’m cutting in,” he said without apology. And proceeded to do exactly that.
“Jordan,” she said, staring up at him, “that was downright rude.”
He didn’t have a word to say in his own defense, so he let the comment drop. “What’s your father grinning about?” he demanded.
Molly’s gaze darted away from his. “Nothing,” she answered smoothly. “You know my how my dad getssometimes. If…he’s bothering you, I’ll be happy to say something to him.”
She did a commendable job of disguising whatever she was feeling. Jordan might have believed her if he hadn’t felt her stiffen in his arms the moment he mentioned Ian.
“Tell me.”
“There’s nothing to tell.”
“You’re sure?”
