Seduced

Chapter 1

"Mr. Matthews, Jessica Newman is here to see you." The voice of Haywood and Irwin's receptionist drifted through the intercom on Ryan Matthews' desk, breaking his train of thought on the brief he was preparing for a client's divorce case.

Before he could recover from Glenna's unexpected announcement, she continued in her ever-efficient manner. "Ms. Newman doesn't have an appointment, but said she'd like to speak with you regarding a personal matter if you have the time."

Curiosity flickered through Ryan, as well as an undeniable spark of enthusiasm. He'd make the time for Jessica Newman-anytime, anyplace. That she'd soughthim out was enough to pique his interest, especially when she'd made it abundantly clear the last time he'd seen her that there could never be anything between them. Although he'd sensed a mutual attraction at the time, she'd diverted it with a collection of lawyer jokes he'd found too amusing to be offensive.

"My afternoon is clear, Glenna." He didn't have any appointments or engagements, just a tedious pile of correspondence awaiting his attention. No doubt, Jessica would provide a much more exciting diversion. "Will you show her to my office, please?"

The line disconnected, and Ryan set aside the documents he'd been reviewing and straightened the scattering of folders and papers on his desk, all the while wondering what had prompted this unscheduled visit of hers.

He'd first met Jessica a year ago when he and his buddies, Marc and Shane, had headed up to the Colorado Rocky Mountains for a few days of skiing. But instead of the guys-only weekend they'd envisioned, they'd found themselves sharing the same cabin with Jessica, her sister, Brooke, and another friend, Stacey. A blizzard had stranded Brooke and Marc together for two days in a deserted cabin, which had been the beginning of a lasting relationship between the two. And while Shane had also connected with Stacey on a very intimate level, Ryan had struck out with Jessica, but not for lack of trying.

Over the past twelve months he'd seen her a handful of times, the last of which had been at Marc and Brooke's small, intimate wedding three weeks ago where they'd stood up as best man and maid of honor for the couple. Other than Stacey and Shane, only immediate family had been invited to the private gathering.

And once again, Jessica had opposed his flirtatious advances. She'd used her arsenal of lawyer jokes to keep her attraction to him at bay, and ultimately turned down his request to take her out to dinner sometime. He'd been prepared for her refusal-over the course of a year she'd rejected him more than any man's ego should have to endure. More than most menwouldhave endured.

He wasn't most men, and possessed enough patience to believe that some things were worth waiting for. And Jessica intrigued him with her efforts to resist him. She stimulated him with her sassy mouth and spirited debates. And it drove him nuts that he couldn't break through that reserve of hers and make her admit to the awareness simmering between them.

She'd become a challenge, one he enjoyed as much as it frustrated him-losing, in any capacity, wasn't something he liked to accept, and he'd never been one to admit defeat until he'd exhausted every effort available.

A slow smile curved his mouth. Maybe it was time he upped the ante with a more direct approach andshowed her that their attraction could lead to a mutually satisfying relationship. He wasn't looking for anything deep, heavy, or serious that would interfere with the goals he'd spent the past six years trying to achieve. No way did he want to disappoint his parents, who'd scraped and saved to send him through college and law school and were so proud that their only son had chosen such a distinguished career. Eventually, he wanted to make junior partner. There was also the possibility of him heading up the family law department, and he was biding his time, winning cases, and making a name for himself that would go a long way in impressing the higher-ups when the time came for that particular advancement.

Being a bachelor suited Ryan just fine-it freed him to pursue his career goals single-mindedly, without the distraction of a serious relationship to waylay him, as he'd seen with other colleagues. But he wasn't opposed to spending time with a woman who aroused him on all levels, and Jessica Newman certainly did that.

But first, he needed her to admit she reacted the same way to him.

His mind turned over tantalizing ideas just as his office door opened and Glenna stepped aside to let Jessica enter. Automatically, he stood, one of the many gentlemanly gestures ingrained by his mother since he was a toddler. Being the only son in a family with three sisters, he'd learned early to treat women with utmost respect. As a teenager, he'd grumbled about the unfairness of having to cater to his sisters, but had grown to appreciate being familiar with the formalities that women seemed to admire and value.

Not that he was counting on his social graces to make any difference with Jessica. No, it was going to take something more tangible and candid to make an impact on her. By the time she left his office, he planned to shake her aloof composure and, he hoped, put a fracture in her convictions to keep him at arm's length, too.

She strolled into the room, her winter coat draped over her arm with her leather gloves stuffed in the front pocket. He started around his desk and across the distance separating them, watching as her big blue eyes registered his gradual approach. He smiled, taking in her teal-and-black, thigh-length sweater over black leggings, which tucked into stylish boots. She always dressed conservatively, whether in jeans and loose blouses, or slacks and long flowing skirts-nothing to draw attention to the slender curves and full breasts merely hinted at beneath her choice of clothing.

Nothing sophisticated like the kind of worldly women his profession drew, but it was her wholesomeness that fascinated him and appealed to him. She wore little makeup to enhance the creamy perfection of her skin, just enough to intensify the drown-in-them-forever blue of her eyes. Her hair was a rich shade of honey-blond, all chin length in a no-fuss style, and parted on the side with wispy bangs touching her forehead. The strands were incredibly silky-looking, beckoning for him to slide his fingers through them as he'd envisioned doing a hundred times since knowing her.

Today, there would be no suppressing his urges. Today, he was going to discover just how warm and heavenly her hair felt wrapped around his fingers… and he planned to discover a whole lot more.

"Can I bring either of you refreshments?" Glenna asked.

"Would you like something from the coffee bar downstairs?" he suggested to Jessica. "An espresso? Mocha? Cappuccino?"

He fully expected her to say she wasn't staying long, but she surprised him with, "I'd love a mocha, thank you. I'm still chilled from the cold temperatures outside. Maybe that will help warm me up."

Ryan thought of more traditional and fun ways to generate heat. Long, slow kisses. The stroke of his hands across her bare skin. His naked body against hers. The possibilities were endless.

"A mocha it is," he said, glancing toward Glenna with their order. "And I'll take a cappuccino."

With a nod, the receptionist was gone, closing the door behind her.

"This is a pleasant surprise." Taking her coat and purse, he hung both next to his suit jacket on the brass hooks mounted on the wall just inside the room. "Dare I hope that you've reconsidered going out on a date and you're here to beg me for a second chance?"

A smile quirked the corner of her mouth, and she slanted him that sly look he was coming to know so well. He knew what was imminent, and anticipated her brand of humor.

"Hmm, let's see," she murmured speculatively, as if giving his question serious consideration. "I'm trapped in a room with a tiger, a rattlesnake, and a lawyer. I have a gun with two bullets. What should I do?"

He lifted his brows, indicating he was ready for her punch line, even though he knew it wouldn't bode well for him. "I have no idea. What should you do?"

"Shoot the lawyer.Twice." She flashed him a quick grin.

He chuckled and shook his head, even as he wondered what had caused such a cynical attitude toward attorneys. "I take it that means no?"

"Ahh, a lawyer that catches on quick. Amazing." She moved away from him, to the wall holding his law degree and other various certificates, diplomas and credentials he'd acquired since college. He watched her examine each one, a tiny frown forming on her brow. Not sure what had caused the sudden mood change, he attempted to keep their banter light and flirtatious. "You'd better be careful, Jessie. I have to confess that those lawyer jokes of yours are starting to turn me on."

She glanced over her shoulder at him, a hint of laughter dancing in her eyes. "Maybe I need to work on my delivery."

His gaze perused her lazily, thoroughly. "From my vantage point, your delivery isperfect." He gained a bit of satisfaction at the temptation he witnessed in her eyes, the wanting. What he didn't care for was the struggle to curb her desires. "I think what we need to work on is your general opinion toward lawyers, and me."

She turned around and sighed, the sound rife with regret. "It's nothing personal, Ryan. Ido like you."

"Just not that I'm a man who represents clients in a court of law."

"Yeah, something like that," she responded vaguely.

Pushing his hands into his trouser pockets, he slowly stepped toward her, watched as she subtly backed up to keep the same amount of distance between them. "Then maybe we should narrow it down to working on just you, and me… on apersonal level."

She bumped into his cherrywood filing cabinet, glared at it for being in her way, then crossed her arms over her chest in a gesture he read as protective. "You don't give up, do you?"

"What can I say? Being a lawyer, I like to argue and prove people wrong. Especially when I know I'm right."

She rolled her eyes at his too-confident statement. "Well, this is one case you won't win, counselor."

He smiled lazily. "You don't think so?"

She shook her head, and that soft, enticing hair of hers swayed with the movement, teasing him, making the tips of his fingers tingle for direct contact. "Iknow so."

Very casually, as if it were a perfectly natural move, he braced his left hand against the edge of the filing cabinet, sealing off her one chance to slip around him. All amusement ceased, replaced by a shimmering heat. Her scent, an arousing combination of jasmine and innocence, curled around him, intoxicating and impossibly alluring.

Resisting the urge to bury his face against her neck and inhale deeply of the fragrance dinging to her skin, he tipped his head and said, "Give me a strong, valid reason why Ishould give up."

She swallowed, and the pulse at the base of her throat fluttered. "Number one on my list of dating rules. No lawyers.Especially divorce attorneys. It goes against my ethics."

He'd heard it all before, in so many words, and he didn't bother asking why, knowing by that guarded look in her eyes that he wouldn't glean the answer he wanted, just a brush-off. But he knew her reasons went much deeper than something so superficial, and the analytical part of him couldn't help but want to discover all her secrets.

"So, you're gonna hold my profession against me?"

"'Fraid so." She lifted her chin. "You know, despite knowing how much you enjoy provoking me, I didn't come here for an interrogation."

He stared deep into her eyes, filled with conflicting emotions. Denial.Defiance. Longing. It was the last emotion that struck a reciprocating chord in him.

"Maybe you came here for more than you realize," he murmured, and lifted his free hand. He moved slow and easy, catering to her apprehension, intending to brush his knuckles across her cheek, gently tangle his fingers through her silken hair, stroke along the warm nape of her neck… and let desire take its natural course.

He was determined to make this the defining moment between them. And judging by the deepening of her breathing, the parting of her lips, and the way her lashes drooped slumberously over her hazy eyes, he was fairly certain she wouldn't belt him for satiating the need to caress her supple skin, taste her honeyed lips, and draw her lithe form up against his hard, hungry body.

It never happened.

A brisk knock on the door interrupted his seduction. Jessica jerked back, shaken, her eyes widening in alarm. Inches away from touching her, he fisted his fingers in the air, and swore beneath his breath at Glenna's untimely return.

Frustration tightened his jaw. Another five seconds, and he would have finally kissed Jessica, as deeply and as intimately as she would have allowed. And in the process he would have put a serious crimp in her "ethics" against getting involved with a lawyer. He'd waited a year for this opportunity, only to have his proficient receptionist shatter the moment.

He gave Jessica the breathing room she suddenly seemed to need and opened the door, retrieving their hot beverages from Glenna. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Jessica move into the center of the room, where it was spacious and safe. She dragged a hand through her hair, looking flustered and as though she couldn't believe what she'd almost allowed him to do, what she'd almost openly participated in.

He nearly laughed at her naiveté. If she knew the half of what he imagined doing to her, he was convinced he'd never see her again. Kisses and stolen caresses were only the beginning of what he wanted from her.

He turned back to the receptionist, who was awaiting further instructions from him. "Glenna, will you hold all my calls until I'm through with Ms. Newman?" At her nod, he added with a rueful grin, "And would you mind closing the door for me since my hands are full?"

"Of course." With a smile that told him she believed this was just another business meeting with a client, she enclosed them in the room. A tension-filled silence immediately descended over his office.

Jessica eyed him cautiously, and he hated that her wariness was back. "You don't have to hold your calls for me."

He held her cup out to her, and she took her beverage. "I prefer private, uninterrupted consultations."

A faint smile touched the corner of her mouth. "Are you going to charge me by the hour for your time?" She took a drink of her mocha, then her tongue darted out, catching the smear of whipped cream clinging to her upper lip.

His gut clenched, and he drew a deep, steady breath, unable to remember the last time a woman had him so tied up in knots. "For you, my fee is negotiable, and very flexible." He winked at her to put her at ease. "But we can discuss that later. Have a seat and let's get business out of the way first."

He waved to one of the two seats in front of his desk while he settled into his leather chair. He caught a glimpse of the gray-leaded sky out the floor-to-ceiling windows that dominated theDenverhigh-rise where Haywood and Irwin leased their offices, and wondered if they were in for another winter storm.

Taking a quick drink of his cappuccino, he set his cup on his blotter and reclined in his chair. "You have my complete and devoted attention, not to mention my curiosity. What brings you by my office in the middle of the day?"

"I wanted to discuss something with you." A sudden anxious light flickered in her gaze. "I suppose I should have called first, but I was the next block over having lunch with Brooke, so I thought I'd take a chance that you were in and available. I figured a half hour out of your afternoon might be easier and more convenient than taking time out of your evening."

He lifted a brow her way. Easier and more convenient for her, of course. "Don't be shocked, but my social calendar in the evenings is quite empty, though I wouldn't mind filling in a few of those nights with a date, or two, or three, with you."

She wrinkled her nose at him, and this time didn't bother responding to his flirtatious attempt to sway her. He chalked up another rejection, but wasn't the least bit discouraged.

She took another drink of her flavored coffee, then stated what was on her mind. "I want to do something special and fun for Brooke and Marc since they had such a small ceremony and no reception."

"From what I remember, they didn't want a reception," he interrupted, remembering his friend's request to keep their wedding small and simple, which had included no gifts from the guests.

"True. My sister felt that since this was her second marriage she'd keep things low key." Though Jessica's tone held mild reproach for her sibling's sensible characteristic, her affection for Brooke was unmistakable. "But I'd really like to throw a surprise reception party in their honor, to give family and friends the opportunity to congratulate them, too. And since you and I were best man and maid of honor at the wedding, I thought it would be appropriate ifwe hosted the party. I also thought New Year's Eve would be a romantic and fun evening to celebrate their marriage."

He glanced at the open engagement calendar on his desk for the month of December, noting that the new year was only four weeks away. "That sounds great, but aren't most halls and ballrooms already booked for New Year's Eve parties by now?"

"Well, this is where I need your help." Grinning impishly, she shifted in her seat, and crossed one slender leg over the other. "Brooke has mentioned in passing that your house is huge, and I was hoping that's where we could have the party. Obviously, we can't do it at my apartment, and yes, I did check into various halls and ballrooms and couldn't find any place that wasn't already reserved. You're my last hope."

He liked that she might have to depend on him for something, which meant he'd gain leverage to reap something in return… like her acquiescence for a date.

Unfortunately, he wasn't sure he could accommodate her request. "My house isn'thuge." Granted, the twenty-five hundred square feet of living space he'd purchased a little over a year ago sometimes seemed monstrous and too damned quiet and lonely in the evenings. He had his cat, Camelot, to keep him company though, and she was the perfect roommate. Female and loving, she didn't make unrealistic demands on his time and never complained about his sometimes grueling work schedule and late nights.

Absently, Jessica tucked a swath of hair behind her ear, revealing a small diamond stud earring that sparkled with her slightest movement. Not surprisingly, Ryan found her lobe incredibly sexy, and wondered if he'd elicit a shiver or moan from her should he ever have the pleasure of nibbling on that soft, enticing piece of flesh.

"Can it accommodate about thirty people?" she asked, bringing his musings back to the present.

He rubbed his thumb along his jaw as he considered her question. "If they're spread out between the living room, dining room, and family room on the bottom level. And if we move my furniture around to make more open space."

"We can make it work." The exuberance brightening her features made him realize how much this party meant to her, and just how close she was to her sister. From the sketchy details Ryan had learned at Brooke's wedding, they had no other siblings. Their mother lived inWest Virginiawith her second husband, and when he'd casually asked Jessica about her father, he'd received a cool, emotionless response that their real father was no longer a part of their lives and hadn't been for some time. It was all the information he'd gleaned, but it had been enough for him to suspect that she'd had a rough childhood.

She set her nearly empty cup on the small table between the two chairs, her eyes brimming with excitement. "We'll send Brooke and Marc a separate invitation on the pretense of you having a New Year's Eve celebration so they'll be surprised and won't try and talk us out of the party."

He took a drink of his warm cappuccino and didn't reply to her monologue, since she wasn't really asking for his input. He hadn't said yes to using his house, either, but Jessica was obviously way ahead of him on that score and assuming that he'd agree. She had the party all planned out in her mind, and he was getting the distinct impression that he was just along for the ride.

He intended to veer her off course and make the excursion much more interesting.

"I'll take care of the other invitations, the decorations, catering, and a cake, and if you have a stereo system I'll bring along some CDs with romantic music that we can play." She grinned, bowling him over with that guileless smile that lacked her normal sass or reserve. "And I'll find a gift that I know they'll both enjoy, which we can go in on together, if you'd like. You won't have to worry about a thing except writing up a speech to toast the newlyweds."

How convenient, he thought in amusement, knowing exactly what she was attempting to do-take complete charge and keep his interaction with her to a minimum. "And splitting the cost of the party with you, of course."

"I'll keep the expenses as minimal as possible, I promise. And if the expense of the party gets to be too much for you, I'll cover the costs."

Money wasn't a concern for him. Not in the least. "I can afford whatever you have in mind."

She leaned forward in her chair expectantly, her eyes hopeful. "Then the party is a go at your place?"

He saw this idea of hers as his last opportunity to insinuate himself in her life, to work past those barriers she put up with him, to spend quality time with her and tempt and seduce her, and see where their attraction might lead.

Picking up his favoriteMont Blancpen, he rolled it between his fingers. "I'll agree to the party at my place on one condition."

She made a snickering sound. "You can't agree without striking some kind of bargain, can you?"

"I can't help it." He shrugged. "Making deals is part of my business. Why settle for less than what I know I can get?"

"Call it what it is, Matthews-wearing your opponent down."

He feigned a wince at her barb. "I'd like to think of it as drive and ambition to succeed. I haven't gotten as far as I have without it."

Derision colored her gaze. "In your illustrious career as a divorce attorney, or with me?"

Somewhere along the way their conversation had taken a personal slant, and it seemed as though his ambitious nature was a source of contention for her. "With both, actually."

The leg crossed over her opposite knee bounced impatiently. "All right then, counselor, let's hear it. What are your conditions?"

He set his pen in its holder. "That I'm part of the planning, every step of the way."

Her jaw dropped, and she stared at him incredulously. "You're joking."

He blinked, and kept his face carefully blank. "I'm completely serious."

"You don't have time to do the planning," she insisted, obviously rattled by his suggestion and what it implied-spending time with him.

"How do you know what I have time for?"

She shook her head in an attempt to divert his interest. "I work out of my apartment with my medical transcripts, and can take care of calls and errands during the day. Why would you want to worry about any of this when I'm more than willing to handle everything?"

Knowing if he revealed his true motives he'd never stand a chance with her, he opted for the obvious. "Well, for starters, I'm paying for half of this party, which gives me the right to contribute my opinion on everything, yes?"

Very reluctantly, she said, "Well… yes."

"And I'm opening my house to thirty-something people, so I'd like to know what to expect, and what you plan to do." He flipped through his daily calendar and summed up his schedule fairly quickly. "I do have some court appearances coming up and cases that I need to close, but for the most part my nights and weekends are wide open."

Frustration all but radiated from her-there was nothing she could refute. She sat back in her chair with a small huff. "Why don't sharks attack lawyers?"

Suppressing a grin, he reached for a piece of letterhead and retrieved his pen again. "Why?"

"Professional courtesy," she muttered.

He chuckled deeply as he drew a diagram to his house for her. "Is that your way of saying I got my way?"

"Yeah, you got your way." She didn't sound happy about the fact

He added his address and home phone number to the piece of paper. Standing, he circled around the desk and handed her the stationery with his bold script on it. "Here are directions to my place. How about we start on the planning tomorrow since it's Saturday? I'm free-how about you?"

Tentatively, she took the heavy cream vellum from his outstretched hand, but didn't bother looking at it. "Unfortunately, I don't have any plans, either."

"Great. Why don't you come over around eleven and take a look at the layout of my house and see what we have to work with, and then we'll go from there?"

"All right." She folded the paper into a precise square. "I have a list of Marc and Brooke's close friends, and I have a program on my computer that can print up nice party invitations, so I'll do that this evening, get them addressed, and drop them in the mail on my way to your place in the morning."

He leaned his backside against the edge of his desk and crossed his legs at his ankles. "Bring them over and we'll address them together."

Her lips pursed. "I can do it myself. It's really a one-person job."

"Regardless, I want to be a part of every aspect of this party, Jessie." He knew if he gave her an inch, she'd run a mile. "Including addressing and stamping the invitations."

Her chin lifted a stubborn notch. "It'sJessica."

"I like Jessie better." The nickname was soft, gentle, with just a hint of rebellion. "It suits you."

She clucked her tongue. "I suppose you could call me worse."

He dropped his voice to a low, husky murmur for effect. "Like honey, or sweetheart?"

Her cheeks flushed a sudden, telltale pink. "Those endearmentsdefinitely don't apply to me and you." Finishing the last of her mocha, she stood and pitched the empty cup into the wastebasket at the side of his desk.

"They could." He twisted around to keep her in his line of vision as a sudden thought dawned on him. "Unless you're dating someone else?"

"No," she admitted freely. "I'm single, available, but not interested… in you."

Then it was up to him to change her mind, because her lying words contradicted the wistful look in her gaze.

She broke eye contact first. "Well, I think we just about covered everything, and now that you've blackmailed me, I think I'll be on my way." She headed toward the door, and he followed right behind.

"Just one more thing," he said with a lazy, self-assured smile.

Her gaze narrowed skeptically as she reached for her coat. "What? Another condition?"

He gently grabbed her wrist before she could execute her move, startling her. Instantaneous awareness cloaked them. She sucked in a swift breath, but didn't struggle or pull back. Their gazes locked as he stroked his thumb over the pulse point at the base of her wrist. In gradual degrees, he eased closer to her, while she stood statue-still.

He watched as her irises turned as dark and sensual as crushed sapphire velvet, and a surge of heat sped through his veins. Their thighs brushed, and he heard her breath hitch in her throat. Unwilling to let this moment pass without indulging in one of his tamer fantasies, he lifted his hand and finally skimmed his fingers along her smooth cheek, savoring the suppleness of her skin.

She looked stunned by his boldness, mesmerized by the tenderness of his touch. Taking advantage of her uncharacteristic docility, he gave in to the impulse he'd been denied earlier and slid his fingers into her hair. Silky warmth engulfed him, like nothing he'd ever experienced. The sensation was so unbelievably erotic he shuddered with pleasure.

"Ryan?" she whispered, her voice holding a slight tremor.

"No more conditions," he said, his tone low and rough. Fisting his hand into the feathery mass, he tipped her face up, so she could look into his eyes and see his intent. "This has nothing to do with the party, and everything to do with you and me… and finally getting an answer to a question I've been wanting to ask for the past year."

And then he lowered his head and settled his mouth over hers.