Because of You by Rochelle Alers Page A

holiday libation, she’d blended ruby-red grapefruit punch with a piña colada mix, the pale pink fruity concoction making her yearn for the tropics.
    She smiled when Jordan took a second helping of everything. It was apparent he had a very healthy appetite. “Do you work out?”
    Jordan swallowed a piece of chicken so tender it melted in his mouth. “All the time. There’s a health club in my apartment building and one in the brownstone for employees.”
    â€œHow much do you weigh?”
    â€œTake a guess.”
    â€œOne ninety-five.”
    He made a buzzing sound. “Wrong. Guess again.”
    â€œHigher or lower?”
    â€œI’m not telling,” he teased.
    Pushing back her chair, Aziza stood up. “Stand up.”
    Jordan complied, standing and grinning. He knew what she was up to. “You can look, but not touch.”
    Aziza pushed out her lip, pouting. “That’s not fair. Whenever I go to the store to buy a melon I have to touch it to ascertain its weight.”
    â€œAscertain,” he whispered, mocking her. “Okay, baby. You can examine the goods.”
    Moving closer, she ran her fingertips over his shoulders and down his chest, Jordan sucking in his breath. “Two-ten.”
    â€œYou’re good, counselor.”
    She bowed low. “Thank you, counselor.”
    The light, teasing mood continued as they cleared the table, loaded the dishwasher and put away leftovers. The votives were sputtering and burning out when Jordan, having retrieved his overnight bag from the trunk of his car, followed Aziza up the staircase to the second floor.
    â€œThis is your bedroom,” she said, pushing open a door and touching a wall switch. “It has an en suite bath. Everything you need is in a cupboard in the bathroom—towels, soap, toothbrush and paste. If you need me to wash anything, leave it on the floor outside the door.”
    Jordan’s mouth was smiling, but not his eyes. He’d spent more time with Alexander Fleming’s sister than he’d planned, and the weather had cooperated to permit him more time with her. He didn’t know what it was about her, but he’d felt an immediate and almost total attraction to Aziza. This was something that hadn’t occurred with any other women he’d met or been involved with.
    â€œThank you, but I have everything I need.”
    Aziza stared at the middle of his broad chest. “I knowwe haven’t talked about it, but I need to know how much you’re going to bill me for your services.”
    Jordan clenched his teeth to keep from spewing curses he was certain would shock Aziza; acerbic, vitriolic curses he’d learned and that were very much a part of his grandfather’s colorful vocabulary. “Did I say I was going to bill you?”
    â€œNo but—”
    â€œBut nothing,” he interrupted. “Your brother happens to be not only my cousin’s teammate but also his best friend. And when friends ask for a favor they shouldn’t have to pay for it.”
    â€œI’m not your friend, Jordan.”
    â€œIf I’m not your friend, then what am I? I can’t be your lover because I make it a practice not to sleep with a woman until I’ve dated her for at least a month. And you don’t date.”
    Pinpoints of heat dotted Aziza’s face. “You’re right.”
    Jordan leaned closer. “I’m right about what, Zee?” There was a hint of laughter in his voice.
    â€œYou’re my friend.”
    â€œGood. Now that we’ve settled that I’ll let you know how you can repay me.”
    She balled her hands into fists in frustration. “But…but I thought you said friends don’t pay friends for—”
    â€œHold up, baby. Don’t go off on me until you hear what I’m proposing.”
    Crossing her arms under her breasts, Aziza glared at Jordan. His flip-flopping as to their relationship