Seduced

by Janelle Denison

  "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 lan
dscaped 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 the
re, 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.