Sitting in the backseat next to him, she tried to ignore the butterflies in her stomach. She officially was about to take part in an undercover sting operation, and an excess of nerves could only hinder her objectives tonight. Previously, the closest to danger she had ever come had been the time a drunk, homeless man wandered into her store and knocked over a display of syrah before passing out on the floor. Really, though, the only danger had been that she would step on a piece of glass or stain her shoes as she cleaned up the mess, as the man had been so inebriated he hadn’t woken up after his dramatic entrance. And Martin had been there to protect her, standing over the man with a loaded bottle of Côtes du Rhône until the police had arrived.

Jordan looked at Nick, who she suspected was carrying something far more powerful than a Côtes du Rhône. Although where he could fit a gun in that perfectly tailored suit was anyone’s guess.

He’d shaved for the evening, and centered in his chin was a small cleft she hadn’t noticed before. The back of his dark brown hair brushed against the collar of his coat – he’d gotten a haircut as well.

When he had arrived at her house, there’d been a moment when she’d been struck by how refined and handsome he looked in his dress coat and suit. He would blend in at Xander’s party without any problem. Interestingly, however, she thought she liked him better with the scruff and jeans. Thank God he annoyed her a good ninety-five percent of the time they were together, because she had absolutely no intention of being attracted to Nick McCall. Stanton. Whoever the heck he was that night.

He caught her looking at him just as the car pulled up in front of Bordeaux. The driver got out and walked around the car to Jordan’s door. Nick studied her carefully, as if gauging her mood.

“So this is it.” She tried to sound nonchalant, but there was a slight shake to her voice. The driver opened the door and she shivered when the cold, February air rushed into the car.

Nick leaned forward to address the driver. “We’ll need just a moment.” He pulled the door shut to give them some privacy.

He spoke quietly. “Jordan, look at me.”

She did, and he held her gaze.

“You’ll be fine. Trust me.”

She nodded, finding comfort in his steady tone. “Okay.”

Then he put his hand on her chin and moved closer – wait, was he going to kiss her? – and she felt the warmth of his breath against her neck as he whispered in her ear.

“But if anything goes wrong tonight, find the red-headed bartender. She’s a friend.”

Jordan’s eyes flew open. Wrong?

She didn’t have time to ask what could possibly go wrong, because Nick pushed open the door and the driver automatically reached for her hand. So she put on her game face and stepped out of the car. Nick followed, and together they walked to the restaurant’s front door and stepped inside.

Jordan had been to Bordeaux several times before, but the elegant décor continued to impress her. Soaring eighteenfoot ceilings, crystal chandeliers emitting a warm glow, and creamy silk wall panels all gave the place a light, airy feel. To their right, across the dining room, was a cream-lacquered arch that led to the VIP wine bar. On the opposite end of the dining room was an outdoor terrace that overlooked the river and another bar, which Xander maintained at comfortable temperatures via heat lamps in the winter months. According to the plan, she would invite Xander to join her for a drink on the terrace to discuss a wine she’d located for him, and that was when Nick would make his move.

She and Nick checked their coats with the hostess and made their way into the restaurant. Jordan immediately spotted several guests she knew, but hesitated before heading over. Just one more minute. That’s all she wanted before she introduced her “date” to the world, and this game of theirs became very real.

Nick seemed to read her mind. “Why don’t we get a drink?” He caught the eye of a waiter passing by.

“Cristal?” the waiter asked, offering them each a flute. Jordan took note of the bottle as he poured – a 2002 Louis Roederer Cristal rosé. As always, Xander had spared no expense.

Focus on the wine, she told herself. Nick had the challenging part of this assignment, not her. Over the course of the next few hours, she didn’t need to do much except smile her way through several glasses of the beverage she’d spent the last several years becoming a semi-expert on.

Nick eyed his drink skeptically after the waiter left. “Conveniently, when you invited me tonight, you failed to mention there would be pink drinks.”

She felt some of the tension leave her. She hadn’t known what to expect with the whole pretending-to-be-dating routine, but so far it seemed to be business as usual between them. “It’s a rosé.”

This appeared to register with him. “Oh, like white zinfandel. My grandmother used to drink that.”

Thank God Jordan hadn’t taken a sip of her champagne, or she would’ve just choked on it. “First rule of the evening: never, ever mention white zinfandel around this crowd. Or things could get ugly very quickly.” She lifted the champagne flute to her nose and instinct took over. She closed her eyes and inhaled, smelling baked apples, almonds, and dried fruit. She took a small sip, letting the champagne dissipate in her mouth before swallowing. The flavors flirted in her mouth, light and coy.

She opened her eyes and noticed that Nick was watching her closely.

“Good?” he asked.

That was an understatement. “Try it.”

“I don’t do pink drinks.” He cocked his head. “Think you’re ready to take on the wine bar yet?”

Jordan got the message – they needed to keep moving. “Sure. Let’s see what Xander has in store for us tonight.”

Together, they made their way to the private room. The wine tasting had begun, and the bar was loud as guests discussed their drinks. Nearly immediately, Jordan noticed the redhead bartender, presumably the “friend” Nick had alluded to earlier. She was attractive, and not at all what Jordan expected an FBI agent to look like. For a moment, she caught herself wondering just how good a “friend” the woman was to Nick. Then she remembered that was none of her business.

“Just starting?” the redhead asked as they approached the bar. She gave away no sign that she recognized them.

Jordan noticed that the bartender’s curly hair was styled in a way that covered her ears. To hide an earpiece perhaps? Curious, she made a note to ask Nick about that later. “We’ll take whatever’s first.”

“So how does this work?” Nick asked after the bartender set a glass in front of each of them. “This is my first tasting.”

“Hmm, a wine-tasting virgin,” Jordan said. “There’s so much I could teach you.”

“Just keep it simple, Rhodes. The basics.”

“Okay, here’s my prediction for tonight: unless Xander plans to break some rules, we’ll start off with a couple light-bodied whites, move on to a chardonnay, then switch glasses and start with the reds. That’s where the fun really happens.”

Nick grabbed one of the tasting menus from the bar. “All right. Let’s see how good you are. Call the first one.”

“A sauvignon blanc,” Jordan guessed. “Likely one from the Loire Valley. Then a Riesling, a pinot gris, and a California chardonnay.”

He looked impressed. “Not bad.”

She shrugged. “I know my way around a tasting.”

“Except you screwed up the chardonnay.”

Surprised, Jordan took a look at the menu. In the past, Xander had always picked a California chardonnay, but this year’s selection was from Burgundy, France.

“Interesting, don’t you think?” said a man to her left.

Jordan turned and saw Rafe Velasquez, co-owner of a lucrative hedge fund based out of Chicago. Like her, he was a regular of the party. She greeted him with a smile. “Hello, Rafe.” She looked around the room. “Where’s Emily?”

“She decided to stay home – most reluctantly. Our youngest has been fighting the flu all week, and she didn’t feel comfortable leaving him with the nanny. I think something’s going around. Everyone I talk to these days is sick.”

Jordan thought back to Huxley, sprawled across the couch with his blond Mohawk. Something was going around all right, and it wasn’t pretty. Turning to Nick, she made the introductions. “Rafe Velasquez, Nick Stanton.” As the two men shook hands, she breathed a sigh of relief. She’d made it through the first intro without screwing things up.

“So you must be proud of yourself,” Rafe said to her.

She cocked her head in confusion. “Meaning … ?”

Rafe pointed to the wine menu. “The reds?”

“I haven’t gotten that far yet – I’m still stuck on the fact that Xander didn’t go with a California chardonnay.”

“Forget the chardonnay – check out the cabs.”

Jordan’s eyes skimmed over the menu. She pulled back in surprise when she read the names of the two cabernets Xander had chosen for the evening.

“What do you make of that?” Rafe asked slyly.

She didn’t answer immediately. She had a feeling she knew what Rafe was suggesting, but it couldn’t mean … well, that.

“Looks like somebody has a secret admirer,” he said.

Nick frowned, suddenly very interested in their conversation. “I think I’m missing something here.”

Rafe explained. “At last year’s party, Xander, Jordan, and I got into a discussion about his red selections. See, Xander always picks Screaming Eagle as his cabernet – which is a fantastic wine, don’t get me wrong. But Jordan jokingly said that if he ever wanted to shake things up, she’d be happy to give him some suggestions. So Xander asked what her favorite cabernets are.”

Nick turned to Jordan. “What did you tell him?”

“I … may have mentioned the Vineyard 29 estate cab,” she said.

Nick checked out the tasting menu. “That’s on this list.”

Yes, it was.

“And she also said that she was a huge fan of the Quintessa meritage. Which I completely agree with, by the way,” Rafe said.

Nick checked again. “That’s also on this list.”

Yes, it was.

Nick’s eyes narrowed. “So to be clear: two of the five red wines on this highly exclusive list are ones that you said are your favorites?”

Well, when he put it that way … Now on the defensive, Jordan felt the need to point something out. “I do own a wine store, you know. This is likely a professional compliment, not a personal one.”

“Are you sure about that?” Nick’s green eyes probed hers intently.

Before answering, Jordan thought through her recent interactions with Xander. Nothing jumped out at her as abnormal, no conversations she could immediately recall that signaled any particular interest in her. Sure, Xander came by the store often, but so did a lot of her regular customers. And he flirted with her from time to time, but Xander flirted with everyone. He was a notorious womanizer and constantly dated women he met in his clubs – usually leggy brunettes under the age of twenty-five. Being blond, five-foot-five if she stood really straight, and thirty-three years old, Jordan met none of his criteria.

But now that she was specifically thinking about it … there had been that one slightly odd conversation – five months ago, right before Kyle had been arrested, and just after she’d gotten back from a trip to the Napa Valley. Xander had dropped by the store, and she’d filled him in on some of the new wines she’d discovered.

“Must be a tough life, going to the Napa Valley several times a year on business,” Xander had teased her as he perused the store’s shelves.

Jordan had chuckled as she handed him a glass of a new pinot noir she’d just opened, not disagreeing with him. “Oh, and you have it so bad. You go wherever you want, whenever you want.” She should know, he bragged about his exotic trips whenever he visited the store.

Xander took the glass of pinot from her. “Yeah, but Napa’s different. That’s not the kind of place you want to go alone. You should be with someone who can appreciate the experience.” He took a sip of the wine. “It’s good.”

“A waiter recommended it to me. I liked it so much I had two cases shipped back here.”

Xander followed her over to the bar. “Where did you stay while you were out there?”

“Calistoga Ranch. Have you been?”

“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.”