Seduced

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Seduced Page 7

by Janelle Denison


  She'd definitely been a willing partner in what had transpired on this very table-lush, wanton and uninhibited. Her compliance had been genuine, her enthusiastic response to his kisses and caresses unfeigned. But her body and mind weren't in harmony, and that was the crux of their problem.

  While his seductive demonstration had succeeded in stripping Jessica of her physical reserve, it hadn't completely diminished her reluctance to trust him. She harbored doubts and fears that stretched beyond wallowing in sexual gratification. And for a reason that he hadn't completely sorted out yet in his own head, hewanted her trust-just as much as he wanted to make love to her and introduce her to all the pleasures she'd been denied.

  He knew if he left now as she'd insisted, he'd give her the perfect opportunity to retreat and shore up those defenses of hers. And that wouldn't do. He'd merely scratched the surface of Jessica's complexities, and he wasn't through discovering the depth of those fascinating layers.

  With his next strategy filtering through his mind, he set about tidying up the kitchen. Most of the small cakes were destroyed from their taste test, and weren't worth saving. He tossed the remnants and boxes in the trash, wiped down the table, and picked up the crumbs that had fallen on the floor. Then he went into the bathroom he found off the living room and scrubbed his hands and arms free of dried frosting and cake. He rinsed the confection from his face, and decided there wasn't anything he could do about his hair until he took his own shower at home.

  If things had ended more positively, he might be sharing Jessica's shower with her, he thought with a rueful smile at himself in the mirror. The image of her naked and wet, with water sluicing down the sleek curves she hid, invaded his musings. The vivid fantasy caused a liquid heat to rush to his groin. He swore and splashed cold water over his face.

  A half an hour later, Jessica finally exited her bedroom and found him reclining against the tiled counter with a bottle of cold water in his hand, and the kitchen spotless.

  She came to an abrupt stop when she saw him. Wariness instantly colored her eyes, made more strikingly blue by her freshly scrubbed face and the damp strands of honey-blond hair falling haphazardly to her shoulders. She wore an old terry robe that swallowed her up in the folds of worn material, from neck to ankles. On her feet were a pair of pink house slippers.

  And in that moment, she appeared incredibly vulnerable to him.

  Then her chin lifted a stubborn notch, reminding him of the spitfire he was used to dealing with. "You're still here," she said, her voice indicating her surprise. "I told you it wasn't necessary for you to clean up."

  He shrugged a shoulder. "I contributed to the mess. It was the least I could do." Finished with his water, he tossed the plastic bottle into the recycle bin under the sink, then resumed his position against the counter.

  "Well, thank you for your help."And now you're free to leave, her tone silently added.

  "You're welcome." He didn't budge.

  She released an exasperated sound beneath her breath, and tugged on the sash to her robe, tightening it around her slender waist. The lapels billowed open slightly, affording him a tantalizing glimpse of smooth skin and the beginning slope of one breast. He wondered if she was completely naked beneath the terry material, and resisted the urge to reach out, untie her belt, and find out for himself…

  She crossed her arms over her chest and cleared her throat, effectively drawing his attention upward. Her eyes flared with impatience… and awareness. "Ryan… it's getting late, and you really should go."

  "In a minute," he said in a slow, deliberate drawl. "You owe me something, and I didn't want to leave without it."

  "Money for the cakes?" She asked the question in such a hopeful way that he knew she'd purposely misconstrued his meaning. She moved past him to open a drawer beneath the counter, leaving a scented trail of jasmine in her wake. "I don't have any extra cash on me, but I'd be happy to write you a check-"

  He grabbed her hand before she could retrieve her checkbook, and closed the drawer with a bump of his hip. He waited until she looked up at him. "I don't want your money, Jessie. I wantyou," he said softly, sincerely. "And you owe me a date."

  She extricated her arm from his grasp. "You obtained that date under duress,counselor."

  He couldn't contain the laugh that escaped him. "You call the way you kissed meduress?"

  Her mouth pursed, and he was half-tempted to haul her up against him and kiss her senseless again, until she melted and admitted the truth-that she'd been a willing participant in what had taken place on the table behind her.

  "I certainly wasn't in the right frame of mind to make any kind of decision, and being the lawyer you are, you took advantage of that fact."

  He shook his head at her reasoning, seeing it for the excuse it was, and a poor one at that. "So, does this mean you're reneging on your promise?"

  She picked at a piece of lint on her sleeve, her gaze downcast, her voice resigned. "I think you and I ought to just stick to party planning."

  In his estimation, they'd gone too far to backpedal to platonic friends. Yet it was obvious that he still needed to tread slowly and cautiously with her. "Would you go out with me in the guise of doing me a favor?"

  That captured her attention. She lifted her head and met his gaze, waiting to hear his proposition.

  "Ido need a date," he inhaled, taking a huge leap of faith, "for my firm's Christmas party."

  Her incredulous expression told him his risk hadn't paid off. "Me? In a room full of lawyers?" She flattened a hand to her chest, her eyes wide, and visibly shuddered. "No, thank you."

  "One date," he said, not ready to give up just yet. "No strings attached. I swear it."

  A slow, devious smile played around the corner of her mouth. "How do you know when a lawyer is lying?"

  Having been the recipient of that particular joke before, he knew the punch line. "His lips are moving," he replied with a grin.

  "Exactly,"she said, obviously believing he was weaving a fib of his own.

  "Aw, come on, Jessie," he said in a low,deep voice. "You know you want to accept… maybe just a little?"

  He grabbed the tail end of her sash and gave it aplayful tug.

  She shook her head adamantly and pushed her hands into the side pockets of her robe. "Not only am I refusing for personal reasons, I don't do fancy, schmancy parties. I'm sure it won't be difficult for you to find some other willing female to adorn your arm."

  He still held on to the belt of her robe, suspecting if he let go she'd bolt. And he wanted to keep her near. "I askedyou because I don't want to go with anyone else." And that was the truth, whether she believed him or not.

  "Then it looks like you'll be attending solo." The barest hint of regret tinged her voice. "I'm sorry, Ryan… Ican't do it. It's those personal ethics of mine and all. You understand."

  Her excuse was a familiar one, but this time he wasn't going to accept her obscure argument, not when he suddenly had more at stake than just securing a date to his firm's holiday party-like securing her trust. "The thing is, Jessie, I don't understand those personal ethics of yours. Not completely. It has to do with me being a divorce attorney, that I know, butwhy?"

  She didn't reply. Instead, he watched those defenses of hers slowly rise, saw it in the stiffening of her spine and the guarded look in her eyes, and knew if he didn't act fast he'd lose the opportunity to reach beyond those barriers she was about to erect.

  He wove his fingers casually through the end of her sash, keeping her close. "How is it that you can respond to me the way you did earlier, so openly and honestly, yet shut me out emotionally? I can't help but take that personally, Jessie."

  She swallowed, hard, but her gaze remained steady on his. "I apologize if you feel that I led you on."

  "No, I don't feel that way at all." He smiled gently. "I think you're scared, and maybe confused, and that's okay. But I think I've earned the right to knowwhat you're afraid of."

  Her chin lifted a notch,
but she appeared more vulnerable than mutinous. "All right. I'm very attracted to you, but beyond the physical attraction, I'm having a difficult time getting past what you do for a living, and everything it implies."

  He'd known his occupation posed a problem for her from the very beginning, but he wanted deeper knowledge. "You mean me being a divorce attorney?" he asked, coaxing her to open up even more.

  "That's part of it," she said, nodding guardedly. "I'm not fond of divorce attorneys. I saw firsthand with my mother and father just how cold and calculating people in that profession can be. I watched my father's cutthroat lawyer nearly destroy my mother, and rip apart our family, all for his client's benefit. My mother struggled for years after the divorce just to make ends meet, while my father walked away with a nicely padded bank account and a charming new life without any familial responsibilities."

  Her words didn't paint a flattering picture at all, and made his heart go out to the little girl who'd witnessed that devastating separation, and to the woman who was still affected by her father's abandonment. "And that's what you think I do for a living?"

  "Don't you?" The challenge in her voice was unmistakable.

  He paused. How to explain without incriminating himself? "What happened to your mother, your family, was very unfortunate, but there're always two sides to every case. And while some divorces aren't pleasant and amicable, I try to look at all my cases objectively and represent my clients to the best of my ability,withfacts."

  "Even if that means ruining the other person's life in the process?"

  "Sometimes I represent that defendant, and women like your mother who struggle not to get shafted by their conniving husbands. It all depends on the couple and circumstances involved. Some cases are simple and friendly. Others are ugly and vicious. I have no control over the personality types I represent, and trust me when I say that there areall kinds."

  She stepped away, and he released his hold on her sash, suspecting that she needed the emotional distance. He was stunned by the depth to which Jessica was affected by her parents' divorce. It was evident that she carried the bitterness of a childhood gone bad, and that her experiences had caused her to be wary and cautious, not just of divorce attorneys, but of men in general.

  From across the kitchen, she slanted him a curious look. "So, you actually enjoy what you do?"

  He slid his fingers into the front pockets of his jeans as he mulled that over, thinking about the past six years of his career, the highlights and the frustrating cases he'd had to represent. "Most of the time, I do. I'll admit that sometimes I'll take on a case that's mentally draining, but I love the challenge of my job, and the complexities involved." He thought of his long-term intentions, and shared those, too. "I'm working towards being a junior partner, and possibly heading up the family law department at Haywood and Irwin. But the main reason I chose a career in law was to help people."

  The corner of her mouth quirked with a smile. "Why not be a doctor then?"

  "I thought about it," he replied honestly. "But when I almost threw up while dissecting a frog in high school biology I knew I'd never make it through med school. I'm too squeamish when it comes to blood and guts." He grinned in amusement and saw her bite the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing. "So, instead, I concentrated my efforts on the debate team, and discovered that I really enjoyed disputing issues and trying to sway people to agree with my ideals and opinions."

  "Which you're very good at," she admittedly wryly.

  He tipped his head, acknowledging the backhanded compliment. "Yet I can't seem to convince you to go out on a date with me, or accompany me to my firm's Christmas party."

  She exhaled a slow breath, and combed her fingers through her still damp hair. "Ryan… what you do for a living goes against what I believe in. Despite what my mother went through with my father, and Brooke's own divorce, I still believe in love, marriage, and happily-ever-afters. It's what I want for myself one day, with the right person."

  And she obviously didn't consider him a candidate for the position. Her argument was solid and indisputable. And as much as he was attracted to her, as much as he was coming to care about her, he couldn't offer her the kind of promises she demanded, and deserved. She'd given him every reason to take a huge step back, to leave her alone, but he discovered he couldn't do it, because for the first time in his adult life, he wanted to take that huge stepforward with a woman… and see where it all might lead.

  A scary prospect, even for him. But after a year of wanting Jessica, his gut twisted into a giant knot at the thought of completely severing all ties with her.

  Armed with a new determination, he took that step forward, moving toward her, and she watched him close the distance between them. He smiled, and attempted to dispel the gloom their conversation had cast over the room. "Are yousure you won't consider coming to that Christmas party? It might give you a whole different perspective on lawyers."

  "I doubt it. I think it would be smarter, and safer, if I didn't attend something as important as your firm's Christmas party with you."

  Unwilling to admit defeat just yet, he tried a different approach. "I know I hit you with this unexpectedly, and I really didn't give you the chance to consider your answer-"

  "I won't change my mind, Ryan," she said, firmly cutting off his entreaty.

  "I'd like to think you will." He dared to reach out and touch her, gently stroking his thumb along her cheek. A sense of satisfaction filled him when she didn't retreat. "Just think about it, okay?"

  And in the meantime, if the only way to dissolve her defenses was to use seduction, then they'd at least enjoy themselves in the process.

  Chapter 5

  Jessica sat in front of her computer, unable to concentrate on the medical reports she needed to transcribe for the doctors that employed her services. Thanks to Ryan's parting remark the night before, she couldn't think about anything else except his invitation to his firm's Christmas party.

  She'd told him no, and meant it. She'd told him she wouldn't change her mind, and she meant that, too. She couldn't envision herself in a room crowded with attorneys, smiling and trying to make polite small talk and acting as though she approved of what they did for a living. She harbored too many resentments and bitter memories to advocate the legal profession, especially those who represented divorce cases and went against their opponent with greedy intent.

  What Ryan was suggesting was ludicrous, and impossible. The complications of involving herself with him on such a personal level had the potential to break her heart. Not only was his career choice a problem for her, but his aspirations didn't leave much room in his life to devote to building a lasting relationship. Nothing permanent could come of them being together.

  Sheknew that, so why couldn't she just consider Ryan a friendly acquaintance and keep their association at that?

  Slippery, sensual, erotic sex.

  She groaned as those words echoed in her mind, as they had all night long and into the early morning hours. Yeah, she admitted that particular promise had something to do with her preoccupation with Ryan. He'd shown her a glimpse of that temptation, and she'd be lying if she said she didn't want to experience the full spectrum of pleasure he'd introduced her to, and take those voluptuous sensations to their inevitable conclusion.

  There was no denying she was itching to try something new, to be a little rebellious and break past the caution that had ruled most of her life. She'd been a good girl for so long, and now she wanted to live a little, embrace the passion Ryan evoked, and see where it all led.

  She sighed, her belly clenching with desire as she recalled the skillful range with which Ryan had used his mouth on hers. Whether log, slow and lazy, or deep, hungry and rapacious, his kisses had the ability to bring her to a fever pitch of excitement in no time flat. Her lashes fluttered closed as she imagined his mouth elsewhere, and her breasts swelled in response to the visual fantasy. She bit her bottom lip, aching to feel the heat of his breath on her skin,
the silky stroke of his tongue across her tight, sensitive nipples, the wet suction of his mouth closing over her…

  The phone on her desk rang, startling her out of her reverie and setting her heart to a frantic pace. Last night before he'd left her place, Ryan had told her he had a long, busy day at the office today, and had catch-up work to handle on Saturday, so he wouldn't be able to see her until Sunday. He'd requested she come by his house on Sunday so they could finalize the menu and other party matters, so she wasn't expecting him tocall. She knew he was busy with work, and was irritated with herself for wanting it to be him on the phone.

  Forcing the gorgeous, sexy rogue from her mind, she picked up the line and answered with a breathless, "Hello?"

  "Hey, Jess, did you forget about me?"

  Jessica winced. Her sister. She'd been too distracted by the results of Ryan's cake seduction, then their discussion, to return her call last night. And today, well, she was still distracted. "Actually, I was just going to call you back."

  "I guess I saved you the dime. Where were you last night when I called?" Brooke asked, displaying those protective sister instincts that she'd honed since the age of thirteen.

  Tasting a slice of euphoria."I, uh, was having dessert with a friend."

  The excuse slipped from her tongue, as truthful as she'd allow. Including the fact that Ryan had been her companion for the evening would only serve to rouse Brooke's curiosity, and promote questions she didn't want to answer. Once the New Year's Eve surprise reception was over, her contact with Ryan would return to a minimum, as it had always been. As it should be. And her sister would never have to know that her association with Ryan while planning the party had included his thrilling attempts at seduction.

  "Well, I hope you had a fun time."

  Sexy, sinful fun.

 

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