Seduced

Chapter 2

Jessica never could have anticipated the impact of Ryan's kiss, or her open response to him. A year's worth of resisting his charm, teasing and advances dissolved the moment his mouth touched hers, unraveling every solid lecture she'd given herself on why she could never fall for a man like him… a man who made a career out of tearing families apart, just as her family had been ripped apart.

But none of that mattered at that moment, not when the man, not the lawyer, was gently coaxing her with the soft glide of his lips across hers, taking time and care to draw her into far more forbidden territory. She had no defense against his brand of lazy seduction, his hypnotic patience. And when he slid his other hand into her hair, gradually eased her back against the wall and slanted her mouth more firmly beneath his, she was totally and completely lost. She gripped his corded forearms for support, bared by his rolled-up shirtsleeves, and held on.

Aching to experience more of this exquisite pleasure, she surrendered with a breathy moan. Her lips softened and parted beneath his, and his tongue swept inside to taste her, tantalizing her with silken, gliding forays that made her knees weak and her head spin. She brazenly sought a more intimate sampling, too, and shivered at the combined flavors of hot male and rich coffee.

She learned quickly that despite his straightforward manner, he was a man who took his time and did things thoroughly. He kissed her with delicious languor, as if he had all the time in the world to indulge in the taste and textures of her mouth. His hips pressed closer, making her all too aware of the unyielding masculine body pinning her to the wall, the citrus scent of his aftershave, and the voluptuous sensations coursing through her.

His thumbs brushed her jaw, and her skin caught fire. His wide chest grazed hers, and her breasts swelled and her nipples tightened and ached. A muscular thigh insinuated itself between hers, she felt the hard length of his erection against her hip, and heated desire curled low in her belly. And when he deepened the kiss, she responded just as enthusiastically.

She'd never experienced passion like this-instantaneous and wild. Never wanted another man with such shameless abandon. Never allowed herself to be so reckless with her desires. Her one and only quick, awkward encounter with someone she'd briefly dated three years ago hadn't prepared her for such intense, thrilling pleasure and consuming need.

Ever since her sister's marriage she'd been feeling restless, wanting something that felt just beyond her reach. With a kiss, Ryan tapped into deeper longings, and made her cravemore.

While her body wanted to see where all this irresistible ecstasy might lead, her sensible mind reminded her that any kind of relationship with him was impossible. Having witnessed the pain of her mother's separation, along with experiencing the anguish of abandonment, she'd learned to be cautious and selective when it came to men in general. By Ryan's own admission, his ambition to succeed was his main focus, and wouldn't leave much spare room in his life to cultivate a commitment to something other than his career. She'd spent the past year dodging his flirtatious overtures, turning him down, swearing never to court the kind of disaster imminent with a driven man like him, whose profession contradicted everything she believed in and wanted for herself… love, marriage and family.

A kiss, no matter how exciting and earth-shattering, wouldn't change her mind or her principles… or allow her to overlook the fact that he terminated families and marriages without thought to the injured parties involved in those cases.

As if sensing her sudden doubts, he slowly dragged his soft, damp lips from hers. His hot, ragged breath along her cheek added to the arousing sensations, and she bit her bottom lip to keep from releasing his name on a breathless, plaintive sigh.

"In case you're wondering, the answer was yes," he murmured huskily in her ear, then lifted his head and gently untangled his fingers from her hair.

Trying to regain her own equilibrium, she braced the flat of her palms against the wall behind her and forced her lashes open to look at him. Though his body no longer touched hers, he only stood a few inches away, and she could still feel the sizzling heat radiating from him. His eyes were heavy-lidded and dark, his irises a rich shade of brown rimmed in a glittering gold. Hungry eyes. Seductive eyes. His thick, sable hair was tousled around his head enticingly, and he looked very sexy and overwhelmingly male.

"What was the question?" she asked, her mind foggy and confused.

A crooked, full-of-himself smile curved his lips. "Do you want me as much as I want you?"

She'd forgotten all about his original quest to achieve an answer to his personal query. What she desperately needed was a lawyer joke to diffuse the too-intimate moment, but he had her so unbalanced she couldn't remember the simplest of her attorney witticisms.

Frowning, and without thinking, she touched her bottom lip, which was still moist, swollen and incredibly sensitive. "And you think I said yes with that kiss?"

"You most definitely didn't say no, and I always look for the positive." He slipped his hands into the front pockets of his olive-colored trousers. "Now that we have that awkward question out of the way, we can move on to the next logical phase of our attraction."

She laughed at his presumptuousness, but couldn't deny just how adorable he looked, and just how much hedid appeal to her, physically and intellectually. He sparked something utterly shameless within her, made her want to throw caution to the wind and give in to that attraction he spoke of.

"And what do you consider the next logical phase?" she asked.

"A date."

Nothing she hadn't already heard and turned down before. She inclined her head and smiled. "Don't you think you're going about things backwards? A kiss first, date second?" Deeming it way past time she left, she reached for her coat.

He beat her to it, and held open the wool garment for her. "I've never been accused of being traditional."

She wasn't surprised. How could a man whose main objective was to split up married couples believe in romantic customs and idealistic sentiments?

She slipped into her coat with a murmured thanks, and turned around. His hands lingered, adjusting the collar, his thumbs grazing her neck. Of course her traitorous body shivered at that delectable caress, and her mind conjured up images of him gliding those long tapered fingers elsewhere.

He handed her purse to her, and she slung the long leather strap over her shoulder. "What if I'm a traditional kind of girl?"

An appropriately contrite look transformed his gorgeous features, though his eyes danced with a teasing light. "Then I apologize profusely for offending your delicate sensibilities with that kiss, and would like to make up for my atrocious behavior with dinner. How about tomorrow night?" He opened the door to his office and waited for her to precede him.

She stepped out into the hall, and realized he intended to escort her out-and felt ridiculously pleased by the gesture. "I'll be seeing you tomorrow morning, and we'll be spending the afternoon together."

"That's business. I'm referring to pleasure."

The word "pleasure" rolled off his tongue like a silken, seductive stroke along her spine. She drew a breath and resisted its allure. "No."

"Sunday night, then?"

He lightly rested his hand on the base of her back. Her coat was heavy and lined, yet that subtle pressure was enough to incite her feminine nerves and send a feverish awareness swirling within her. She held on to her standards and her respectability with both hands. "No."

"Okay," he said, unperturbed by her steadfast refusal. "You name the night, then."

His unwavering persistence amazed her. "How about never?"

They passed through the receptionist area, Ryan told Glenna that he'd be right back after escorting her to the lobby, and they continued to the alcove holding the bank of elevators.

He punched the down arrow and met her gaze. "You're going to make me work for this, aren't you?" He didn't seem at all bothered by that notion. In fact, Jessica suspected the challenge appealed to him and his lawyer instincts.

With his good looks and easy-going charm, she was certain he'd never had to work for a date in his life, and was ninety-nine percent sure his interest in her would wane once she capitulated to his relentless pursuit. No matter how easy it would be to surrender to Ryan despite his profession, it could never happen. She didn't intend to end up hurt and discarded by any man once he decided the fun was over-especially by one who affected her so strongly and threatened her emotions so severely.

The elevator pinged, signaling its arrival, and they both stepped into the lift. She pressed the button for the lobby, and waited until the metal doors closed. Her stomach dipped, from the descent of the elevator, or from being trapped in such a tiny cubicle with Ryan, she wasn't sure.

"I'm doing both of us a big favor," she finally said, infusing her voice with a suitable amount of regret that felt overwhelmingly real. "It would be ridiculous after that kiss to deny that I'm attracted to you, but I don't think we're looking for the same things in a relationship."

He flashed her a quick, tempting grin. "Chemistry is a great start."

They definitely had plenty of that, but she wanted something more permanent with a man, something more enduring and emotional. Stability and security-the very things she'd grown up without. "Which rarely lasts once the relationship turns physical."

He studied her too intently with those deep brown eyes of his. "Is that your experience?"

She shrugged vaguely and broke eye contact, unwilling to admit that her experience was limited, and did not evoke pleasant memories. "What's the longest relationship you've ever had?" she asked, turning the conversation back to him.

He worked his mouth in thought. "A little over a year."

Retrieving her lined leather gloves from her coat pocket, she pulled them on. "How long ago?"

"My senior year in high school."

She rolled her eyes at him, not at all surprised to discover that he'd spent most of his adult life avoiding a commitment with a woman, which was pretty much equivalent to him confirming himself as a bachelor. "You just proved my point about you and lasting relationships. They don't exist for you."

"You didn't prove anything," he refuted calmly. "After high school, I went to college while holding down a part-time job, then went straight into law school. Becoming a lawyer and establishing myself has taken precedence over a relationship."

"And your career is your number one priority." And that kind of focus didn't leave much time to nurture an intimate relationship.

Not that she cared.

"I haven't gotten as far as I have without working hard and making sacrifices." His words weren't at all defensive, just a statement of fact. "And quite honestly, I haven't met a woman who's made me want to give up being a bachelor."

The velvet timbre of his voice, the flicker of something far more promising in his eyes, shot a distinct and unnerving tingle through her. The elevator came to a whirring stop, and she opened her purse and dug through the contents, using the search for her car keys as a much needed visual diversion. "I doubt I'm that woman, Matthews, and you're definitely not someone I'd consider anything long-term with, either."

"Something short-term then?"

Unable to tell if he was serious or joking, she slanted him a quick glance. The sinful invitation in his gaze indicated his suggestion was, indeed, an earnest one. Temptation crooked its finger, and it took more than a little effort to abstain from accepting his beguiling proposal.

None too soon, the door whooshed opened, and she stepped into the marbled lobby. "You're a rogue, and I'm not interested."

"You're not a very good liar, Jessie," he said in that silky tone of his. "You're definitely interested."

He stopped in the middle of the lobby, and she continued on to the main entrance. Then he called out after her. "And just for the record, I plan to wear down that resolve of yours."

She turned and used her backside to push open the glass doors that enclosed the interior of the building. Her breath caught, at the afternoon chill that swirled around her, and at the vision of Ryan leaning against a tiled column, so utterly confident, so inherently sexual, so completely irresistible.

But resist him she would. She flaunted a grin full of fabricated sass. "You can certainly try, counselor, but don't expect me to make it easy on you. And don't expect to win."

He tipped his head, and a lock of dark hair fell across his brow, adding to his appeal. "You making it easy on me wouldn't be any fun, now would it?" he drawled. The devastatingly wicked grin claiming his lips told her he accepted her dare and anticipated the challenge. "See you tomorrow morning."

Ryan pushed himself to swim an additional ten laps on top of the fifteen he'd already accomplished, hoping the extra morning exercise would burn off the restless energy that had kept him tossing and turning for most of the night Also to blame were the vivid fantasies that had invaded what little sleep he'd been able to snatch. Of Jessica beautifully naked and submissive in his bed. Of him discovering those curves she'd hidden beneath her bulky sweater, skimming his hands along quivering flesh, tasting her with his tongue, making her want him to the point of begging him for release.

And she begged so prettily in his fantasy, so sweetly. But before he could experience the ecstasy of burying himself deep inside her softness and warmth, he awoke from the erotic dream with a start. He'd been hard and aching, the sheets tangled around his bare legs, and sweating despite the cool night air washing over his body. Three times she'd brought him to the edge last night, until he'd finally dragged himself from bed at dawn and put himself through a rigorous workout regimen in hopes of diminishing the lust that gripped him.

The sharpness of desire had ebbed, but he still wanted her.

Reaching the deep end of the pool, he executed a flip, accelerated off the wall, and continued his fluid, precise strokes across the surface. Curls of steam rose from the water he kept heated in the winter so he could use the pool on a daily basis, but his lungs burned from drawing in cold morning air. The muscles across his shoulders and down his back tingled from the exertion, while the warm water sluiced along his skin, his belly, his thighs, like a lover's caress.

Jessica's caress. And just like that, she'd joined him in the pool where he thought he was safe from those erotic fantasies with her.

The kiss they'd shared yesterday afternoon had ignited a dark, carnal craving he couldn't seem to shake, along with a deeper hunger that transcended mere sexual need, and emotions no other woman had ever evoked. For a year he'd let their desire for one another simmer, and now that he knew there was a warm and willing woman beneath that composed exterior, he wanted to discover everything about her, every sensual secret she harbored.

No easy feat, considering her maddening attempts to deny him, and her frustrating aversion to his profession. But that kiss had provided him with irrefutable evidence. Her vocal cords might be saying "no", but her lips had told him all he needed to know.

She wanted him, too.

Pulling himself out of the pool, he shivered as too-cold temperatures replaced the warmth of the water. Grabbing the large, fluffy towel he'd left on a lounge chair, he dragged it over his wet head to remove the excess water from his hair, then wrapped the terry around his shoulders. He headed up the brick inlaid steps leading to his two-story house, and wasn't surprised to see his younger sister, Natalie, sitting at the small table in the kitchen nook that overlooked the landscaped backyard. As always, she'd made herself right at home and was reading his newspaper and drinking what he assumed was a mug of the coffee he'd made that morning. She saw him coning up the walkway, smiled gregariously, and waved.

He lifted a hand in greeting, but entered the house by way of a back door that led to one of the downstairs bathrooms, where he took a quick shower, washed his hair, and changed into the sweatshirt and jeans he'd left there earlier. Leaving his hair damp and finger-combed away from his face, he grabbed his socks and sneakers and headed into the kitchen to see his sister. The unmistakable fragrance of the delicious buttermilk spice muffins his mother made assailed his senses. There was a cloth-lined basket on the table, and judging by the half-eaten muffin on the plate next to his sister, he'd identified the scent accurately.

"Morning, Nat." Taking one of the chairs across from her, he began pulling on his socks. "I'm glad to see that the house key I gave you for emergencies is coming in handy."

Unaffected by his wry tone, she set aside the paper he'd read earlier and shrugged. "I knocked, and no one answered. I didn't expect you to be out in the pool, for God's sake." She eyed him dubiously as she petted the fluffy gray ball of fur reclining on her lap. "How you can go swimming in fifty-degree weather and enjoy it is beyond me."

The pool was one of the things that had appealed to him when he'd bought the house, along with the large whirlpool in his master bath. "I keep the water heated, and it's invigorating."

"Whatever rocks your boat." Green eyes twinkling, she lifted her mug in a toast to him, then took a drink of the coffee.

Finished tying his shoes, he glanced at the clock, noted that he only had a half hour until Jessica arrived, and realized he needed to move his sister along her way. Unfortunately, Natalie was one to do things at her own unhurried pace.

At twenty-seven, she was the baby of the Matthews clan, and five years younger than he. Though he was close to all his sisters, he was especially fond of Natalie, whom he'd formed a special attachment to from the day his mother had brought her home from the hospital and he'd first peered into her bassinet. They were also the only two siblings left who were single and unattached.

"So, what brings you by?" he asked, wanting to get to the crux of her visit-if there was even a reason.

She glanced down at the cat she'd given him six months ago as a gift, so he'd have company in his big house. "I just wanted to make sure that Camelot isn't wanting for anything, isn't that right, Cammie?" she crooned, scratching the feline under her chin.

He couldn't help but grin at her excuse. "And?"

She tipped her head up, and her rich brown hair, permed with soft waves, swirled around her shoulders. "I found her lapping at a bowl of cream, and judging by her very affectionate purrs, I think she adores her master."

The cat was truly an affectionate pet, very spoiled, and he was just as smitten. "Now that you know Camelot has me wrapped around her paw, whatreally brings you by?"

She tore a hunk off the crispy top of the baked good, sprinkled with cinnamon sugared walnuts. "Mom wanted me to deliver something to you, along with these delicious muffins she made." She popped the bite into her mouth and chewed.

"Which you've helped yourself to, I can see." Unable to resist, he took a chunk of her muffin for himself. It all but melted in his mouth.

She licked the sugar from her fingers. "Of course," she replied unrepentantly. "It's not as though you have anyone else to share the muffins with."

He lifted a brow at her direct comment, but didn't feed the curiosity glimmering in her eyes. "You mind getting to thereal reason why you're here?"

"I'll give you a hint. You need to start practicing your 'ho, ho, has' for Christmas Eve."

Remembering what had transpired last Christmas Eve, he guessed right away. "You brought the Santa suit over?"

"Yep. Mom wanted to make sure you had it beforehand. Christmas is only three weeks away, and I heard Jackie, Jennifer and Alyssa talking about Santa stopping over at Grandma's again this year. Looks like you started a new tradition."

He smiled at the mention of his nieces, whom he adored, the three of which belonged to his oldest sister, Courtney, and her husband Dale. He also had two nephews by his other sister, Lindsay, and her husbandClive. The kids ranged in age from two to seven, and all still believed in the magic of St. Nick.

"I'd be happy to play Santa Claus." He glanced at the clock again, this time more meaningfully. "I hate to rush you off, Nat, but I've got company coming over." He ate the last of her muffin, then stood and started clearing off the table.

Natalie remained seated and continued stroking Camelot, watching as he tossed the newspaper into the trash, and took her mug and plate to the sink. "Hmm, if you're cleaning, your company must be female."

He slanted her a tolerant look. "Yes, she is."

Interest glimmered in her eyes. "Is it serious?"

If Jessica had her way, they'd remain platonic friends. If he had his way, she'd be warming his bed and fulfilling those fantasies that had him tied up in knots. But no matter how much he desired her, he wasn't about to rush her into something she wasn't emotionally prepared for. When the time was right, they'd make love. He'd waited a year for her to come around, so he could abstain a while longer, until he swayed her to his way of thinking. But until then, he planned to keep her just as aroused and inflamed as he was with touches and kisses and anything else she'd allow.

He wasn't sure how to answer his sister's question, so he kept his reply ambiguous. "I definitely like her."

"What's her name?"

"Jessica Newman." Rinsing the dirty plate and utensils in the sink, he placed them in the dishwasher. "She and I are planning a surprise party for Brooke and Marc on New Year's Eve, and she'll be hereanytime."

She ignored his blatant hint to leave. "Are you going to bring her over to Mom and Dad's for Christmas Eve?"

Drying his hands on a dish towel, he thought of that possibility. Christmas Eve at his parents' was a fun, cheerful, overnight affair, with baking, a buffet of food to snack on, and his mother playing Christmas music on the baby grand piano his father had bought her years ago for an anniversary present. There was laughter and reminiscing, and before the stroke ofmidnightthey'd all retire to the rooms that they'd grown up in and wake up the next morning to enjoy the delight of watching the younger generation tear through the presents Santa had left for them.

He thought of Jessica, possibly spending the better part of Christmas alone, with her mother living inWest Virginia, and Brooke now remarried. Would she accept such a personal invitation when she turned down the simplest of dates?

He'd never taken a woman to the family gathering before, never had the desire or the inclination to share that special time with someone else. Although it wasn't difficult to imagine Jessica fitting in with his family, he wasn't certain ifhe was ready for that leap and what it implied.

"I don't know if I'll ask her," he replied, as honest an answer as he'd give.

The doorbell rang, and Natalie's expression brightened with curiosity. Gently, she pushed Camelot to the floor, then stood, brushing the cat hairs from her black jeans. "Since your lady friend is here, I guess I should go."

"How convenient," he said drolly, knowing this was exactly what his sister had been stalling for. "Let me walk you to the door and introduce you."

Standing on Ryan's front porch ateleven o'clockto the minute, Jessica drew a deep fortifying breath and adjusted the strap of her tote bag over her shoulder. The canvas bag held the notepad on which she'd started to plan Brooke and Marc's New Year's Eve party, along with the invitations and labels she'd printed up last night

With luck, and the feminine strategy she had in mind, she'd be here an hour, max. Once she droned on about the tedious, boring party plans that would have most men fidgeting and thinking about the football game on TV, she was certain he'd change his mind about helping and be grateful that she'd handle all the details on her own. From there, any decisions she needed from him could be taken care of over the phone, and she wouldn't have to see him again until New Year's Eve.

And that suited her perfectly, she told herself with a decisive nod. The less direct involvement she had with sexy Ryan Matthews, Esquire, the better. No matter how much he tempted her, no matter that a single kiss from him had the ability to arouse her to the point of making her feel reckless and wild, absolutely nothing could come of their attraction. So why put herself through the added torment of spending so much unnecessary one-on-one time with Ryan?

Her determination melted the moment he opened the door and stood there, filling her senses with the seductive, drugging hunger she'd managed to squash since leaving his office yesterday afternoon. The tantalizing awareness returned with a vengeance, contradicting the lecture she'd just given herself.

Gone was the professional lawyer attire. With seemingly little effort, dressed in casual jeans and a sweatshirt, he still managed to look gorgeous and exude way too much confidence. It was December cold outside, but the heat in his dark eyes set her body on fire. The sensual promise of his smile made her want to toss her better judgment to the wind and experience all that had gone unexplored in her previous sexual encounter.

No doubt, Ryan would be happy to accommodate her, and satisfy her every whim. The thought sent a strange thrill racing through her, and had her mind tumbling with shameless possibilities.

"Amazing, a woman who's right on time," he said teasingly, and motioned her into the foyer with a sweep of his hand. "Come on in."

Shaking off the impossible thoughts stealing through her mind, she stepped inside the warmth of his house and opened her mouth to issue a lawyer joke in response to his male cynicism. The flow of words stopped when she saw another woman standing just inside the entryway, shrugging into a coat with a fur-lined collar.

The pretty and petite woman smiled. "Hi, Jessica, I'm Ryan's sister, Natalie," she introduced herself. "And I believe that wisecrack of my brother's comes from his scarred childhood and having to wait on his three sisters for the better part of his life."

Ryan sent a mock scowl Natalie's way, but there was affection in his gaze. "You have no idea what it's like to have to get up at four in the morning in order to take a shower for school before the three of you woke up and commandeered the bathroom. I was done in ten minutes, then had to sit around for three hours for the bus to arrive while the three of you fought for mirror space." He turned back to Jessica, and continued his argument. "And no matter how much time they all had to get ready, they werenever on time for anything. Lindsay and Courtney were even late to their own weddings."

Deeming it her duty to stick up for her gender, Jessica added, "Obviously, their husbands think they were worth waiting for."

Her reply earned her a brilliant smile from Ryan's sister. "Oh, I do like you."

Ryan groaned. "Weren't you just leaving, Nat?"

"I'm gone." Natalie pressed a quick kiss to his cheek, then grasped Jessica's hand in hers. "It was nice meeting you. I hope we have the chance to get to know one another better."

Jessica didn't bother to correct the woman's assumption that she was Ryan's girlfriend. "It was nice meeting you, too."

Ryan blew out a breath once he closed the door behind his sister. "Ya gotta love her," he said with amusement, and helped her out of her jacket. "Especially since my parents keep insisting that she wasn't adopted."

Despite his joke, it was obvious that he loved his entire family very much. It wasn't what she'd expected. A part of her had assumed that his career choice had been based on his own personal family history being less than stable. Now, she wasn't so sure, which made her wonder what had inspired his choice of career.

She swallowed the personal question and retrieved her notepad from her bag. "I brought the invitations, and I thought I could draw out a diagram of the bottom level of your house so that I… I mean, we can figure out what we need to accommodate the guests."

"Let's get started," he said, too eagerly, too helpfully. "You can make notes while I give you the grand tour."

The "grand tour" left Jessica breathless. His housewas huge in her estimation, when all she'd known was the one small home her family had lived in before her parents divorced, then the cramped space of apartments. Being self-employed and making a decent living as a medical transcriber, she'd upgraded to a nice complex in a middle-class neighborhood which she'd shared with Brooke until recently, but it didn't come close to the luxury in which Ryan lived.

Obviously decorated by a professional, in masculine colors of royal blue, hunter green, and chocolate brown, the lower level was spacious and spread out, affording them enough room to set up rental chairs for the party. The formal table in the dining room would hold the buffet she had in mind, and if they rearranged the furniture in the living room and family room they could add more seats there, too. The kitchen was a caterer's dream, with a huge wooden center island for them to use to prepare the appetizers.

As she gazed up the spiral staircase to the upper level, she imagined entwining evergreen and twinkling lights along the handrail and throughout the house to make it more enchanting. Cinnamon-scented candles would add to the ambiance. Flipping the page of her pad of paper, she made a notation under "florist" for poinsettias, holly and greenery, along with a few table arrangements.

"Did you want to see upstairs, too?" he asked once they'd covered the first level of the house.

She lifted her gaze from her notes and quirked her brow at him, feeling a tad suspicious. Up until this moment, he'd been very well behaved. "Is there anything up there Ineed to see?"

"The master bedroom?"

She bit the inside of her cheek to keep from grinning at the hopeful note in his voice, the inviting light in his gaze. "You plan on letting your guests mingle in there?"

A warm, private smile brushed across his mouth. "I'm only extending the invitation to you."

"It would be incredibly rude of us to leave our guests downstairs while wemingle upstairs," she said, deliberately misconstruing his meaning.

He followed her through the living room to the kitchen. "I'm sure our guests wouldn't miss us for an hour."

A delicious pressure tightened in her belly at his insinuation. An hour of pure ecstasy compared to the ten minutes of groping and fumbling she'd experienced three years ago.

Oh, wow.

Trying not to allow his sexy overture to entice her, she sat at the small kitchen table and withdrew the invitations, address labels and stamps. It was time to execute her scheme to discourage his interest in the party planning.

He didn't complain when she gave him the unpleasant job of licking the envelopes, and assigned him the monotonous task of affixing the return labels and stamps. Too cheerfully, he did as she instructed, not once shifting anxiously in his chair, or issuing an exasperated sigh.

Her ploy wasn't working. The man was impossible to dissuade. Not to mention that he had her completely distracted and unable to concentrate.

He was sitting so close, his leg occasionally grazed hers, the friction of denim against denim nearly electric. She could feel his eyes on her as he waited patiently for her to address the last two invitations.

And then he reached out and tucked the strands of hair behind her ear that had fallen against her cheek, exposing her neck to his gaze in the process. His fingers lingered for a few fretful heartbeats, then skimmed her jaw as his hand fell away.

A shiver coursed through her, and she calmly handed him the invitation and reached for the last one. "Am I boring you?"

"Not in the least." Without acknowledging that he'd touched her, he dampened a stamp and pressed it onto the corner of the envelope. "And why do I get the impression that you're disappointed about that fact?"

"More like amazed that you're actually enjoying this." Finished with the last invitation, she passed it to him to finalize the job. "Well, that's done." And now she could leave. "I'll drop them in the mail on my way home."

"All right." He gathered the other items for her to put into her tote bag, then stood, left the kitchen, and returned with her jacket, and a worn, masculine leather one.

Considering his sudden eagerness to help her clean up, and the fact that he was shrugging into his own jacket, she wondered if maybe shehad waylaid his interest in party planning. Obviously, he had more exciting plans on his agenda, and was just politely going through the motions.

"Have you eaten anything?" he asked.

She grabbed her purse and tote bag and replied without thinking. "Not since breakfast."

"Me, either, and I'm starved. Come on, let's get out of here." He retrieved a set of keys off a hook on the nearby wall, and before she could gain her bearings, he had her hand enclosed in his and was guiding her out a back door to the garage.

He hit a button on the wall, a light went on, and the garage door started rolling upward, revealing a gray sky and snow flurries. A gleaming black Lexus with rich gold trim sat waiting, and Ryan opened the passenger door and ushered her into the butter-soft, tan leather interior.

Marveling at how easily he could manipulate her, how easily she let him, she buckled up while he circled around the car. Once he was behind the wheel, she asked, "Where are we going?"

The engine turned over on a soft purr of sound, and he glanced her way, grinning with wicked satisfaction. "On our first date."