Knowing she'd never get any work done this morning, she saved and shut down the document she'd been typing, and turned the conversation to the reason why Brooke had called. "You mentioned that you received an invitation for a New Year's Eve party at Ryan's," she said lightly, careful not to give any part of the surprise away. "Are you planning on going?"
"Yeah, it sounds like a fun way to bring in the New Year. How about you? Are you going to go?"
She grinned at her sister's assumption, and affected a convincing reluctance on her end. "What makes you think I'd get an invitation, too? I mean, Ryan isMarc's friend, and it's not as though he and I are exactly buddies."
Last night, they'd come damn close to being lovers. "Oh, come on, Jess," Brooke replied in a teasing tone. "Both Marc and I agreed that Ryan wouldn't pass up the opportunity to see you. If he's having a party, you'd be invited."
Except the whole entire party had been her idea, and if anything,she'd invitedRyan. "I was invited," she admitted, playing along for her sister's benefit
"And?"
"I haven't RSVP'd yet," she said, forcing an indecisive tone to her voice. It wouldn't do to let her sister think she was anxious.
"Say yes," Brooke encouraged. "It'll be fun and you'll have a good time."
Say yes.Ryan's invocation last night whispered through her conscience, as did her pitifully easy surrender. And shehad reneged on her promise, but with good reason.
She shook the incident from her mind, determined to put it behind her. "All right, I'll go," she said, coiling the stretchy phone cord around her finger. "Besides, it might be a great way to meet someone new and interesting."
Brooke laughed. "I doubt that's why Ryan invited you, but I'll let the two of you work that out at the party."
Jessica let the implication in her sister's comment slide. Over the past year, her sister had witnessed many encounters between her and Ryan, the sparks and teasing and flirting, as well as the attraction she'd fought to keep at bay. And in a matter of a week, Ryan had chiseled through those carefully constructed defenses. Shoring them back up after last night was more difficult than she'd imagined.
She rocked back in her chair. "So, how's married life?"
"Blissful." A content sigh echoed over the phone lines. "Absolutely wonderful."
Jessica smiled. Her sister's relationship with Marc Jamison hadn't been easy at first, and certainly had been complicated, but with the respect and love the two shared they'd managed to work through the issues and problems that had stood in their way.
"I'm glad everything worked out with Marc," she said sincerely. Her sister's first marriage had been less than ideal, and it warmed Jessica that Brooke had found a man who was her equal. It gave her hope for herself. "He's a great guy, and you deserve to be happy."
"And so do you."
Another lecture she didn't want to hear. "I'm perfectly happy with my life," she automatically said, then veered her sister onto a different topic before she had a chance to call her on that particular fib. "You wanted to talk to me about Christmas?"
"Oh, yeah. Marc and I were thinking about spending the holiday in Tahoe skiing. I wanted to make sure you were okay with that."
An odd pressure constricted Jessica's chest, and she managed, just barely, to keep her voice steady. "Why wouldn't I be okay with that?"
"Because you'd be spending Christmas without me."
For the first time ever. Every other year she and Brooke flew out to West Virginia to spend the holiday with their mother and stepfather, but this was the year they stayed in Denver-and she usually accompanied Brooke to the Jamisons' for their family get-together.
Jessica didn't miss the tinge of guilt and reluctance lacing Brooke's voice, and knew her sister would cancel her trip if she suspected that Jessica felt even a glimmer of longing to spend the holiday with her. Jessica didn't begrudge Brooke the time alone with her husband, and she wasn't about to spoil her sister's plans.
"I'll be fine, really, Brooke," she said, keeping her tone upbeat and cheerful. "It's not a big deal."
Brooke hesitated for a moment. "Well, I think you ought to consider stopping by Marc's parents' on Christmas. I know Kathleen would love to see you."
Jessica couldn't help but shake her head at her sister's protective nature. As much as she knew the Jamisons would welcome her for the holiday, it just wouldn't be the same without Brooke there. Yet, to appease her sister, she said, "I'll think about it."
"Good." Brooke sounded satisfied with that. "Now, back to New Year's Eve. How about you and I pick a day before Christmas to go to lunch and go shopping together for dresses for the party?"
Her sister's enthusiasm brought a smile to her lips. "I'd like that."
"Me, too. Let me know when is good for you, and I'll take the day off work. We'll have a girls-only outing."
They said their goodbyes, and Jessica hung up the phone. And suddenly, inexplicably, she felt very much alone… and not so perfectly happy with her solitary life.
* * *
"I found a caterer who's available for our New Year's Eve party, and they faxed me a menu of appetizers, along with the cost." Jessica slid the estimate toward Ryan, who was sitting next to her at his kitchen table. "What do you think?"
He picked up the piece of paper and considered the items in a very businesslike manner. She'd been at his house for half an hour, and so far, his behavior had been nothing short of exemplary. He hadn't issued even one sexual advance or flirtatious overture, nor had he mentioned anything of what had transpired between them the last time they'd been together. He hadn't even discussed his request for her to think about accompanying him to his firm's party. There were no casual touches, or heated glances. Indeed, judging by his pragmatic expression, he could have been dealing with one of his clients.
She told herself she was glad he was being efficient and agreeable-it made planning the party so much smoother, and kept their relationship on a more even keel. Yet his passive attitude actually bothered her. She was used to bantering with Ryan, and fending off his sexy, suggestive taunts. Though her body was still very much aware of him sitting next to her, he appeared unaffected by her presence.
She found his polite pleasantry, well,frustrating.
Now that he'd had time to mull over her last rejection, had he decided that she just wasn't worth pursuing? Maintaining a purely friendly relationship would be for the best, of course, and exactly what she wanted, she reminded herself.
Or did she?
She wasn't sure anymore. While she knew Ryan couldn't provide her with the happily-ever-after she wanted for herself, there was one blatant fact she couldn't refute: Ryan Matthews was the sexiest man she'd ever met, and she wanted him.
Sneaking a glance at him as he bent his head over the caterer's list, she took in his strong profile, the chiseled line of his jaw, and those firm lips that had shown her sinful delights. She blamed Ryan for introducing her to such carnal pleasures and filling her head with lascivious thoughts. She held him responsible for making her imagine night after night what it would be like to indulge in a slippery, sensual, erotic interlude with him and sample the sweet, heady, euphoric taste of sex.
He set the list back on the table and met her gaze. His eyes were dark brown and warm, but lacked the teasing sparkle she was used to seeing. "I'm impressed. There's quite a selection to choose from."
Having been taught a very memorable lesson on the effects of diversity, she'd made sure they had a wide variety at their disposal. "I thought we could get a vegetable tray, along with a meat and cheese tray, and rolls and condiments," she said. "Then we can each choose three different appetizers, and that should make a nice assortment for everyone to snack on."
"Fair enough." He rubbed his hand along his jaw, and consulted the list again. "I'll go with the chicken fingers, fried mushrooms, and crabrangoon."
She jotted down his selections in her notebook to relay to the caterer next week. "And I'll pick the antipasto salad, mini quiches, and pizza ro
lls."
He passed her the appetizer list and grinned in that easy-going manner he'd seemingly adopted for the day. "Sounds great."
They spent the next hour companionably, discussing other aspects of the party. She went over her ideas for New Year's Eve party favors, and without argument Ryan agreed with her vision. He helped her decide on the drinks and types of alcohol they'd serve, and didn't reject her decorating plans to transform his home with evergreen, twinkling lights, floral arrangements and scented candles.
All in all, they settled the planning with minimum fuss.
As she bent her head over her notepad, she felt something rub up against her calf. For a moment she thought it was Ryan's leg, until a soft, plaintive meow caught her attention. Setting her pen on the table, she glanced down to find a fluffy gray cat sitting on the tiled floor between her and Ryan.
Jessica smiled, charmed by the big green eyes staring up at her. "Well, hello there."
Another dainty meow in response.
Ryan gently scooped up the feline and settled her onto his jean-clad lap. "I don't believe the two of you met the last time you were here. This is my housemate, Camelot."
Jessica watched Ryan's long fingers stroke along Camelot's spine. The cat's eyes drooped slumberously, and a contented purr rumbled in her throat. A shivercoursedthrough Jessica. She knew exactly how the feline felt because Ryan had the same effect on her whenhe touched her.
Which he hadn't done all afternoon.
She scratched Camelot under her chin, and the cat stretched her neck out for better access. "She's a beauty."
"And a bed hog," Ryan added, humor in his deep voice. "It doesn't matter that I have a king-sized mattress. Wherever I sleep is exactly where she wants to curl up-usually right between my feet so I can't move without jostling her."
Jessica laughed, though she couldn't help but envy the cat for having the luxury of sleeping with such a sexy man. Before her thoughts took a decidedly provocative turn, withher starring as Ryan's bedmate, she focused her mind back on business. "By the way, I spoke with Brooke, and she said that she and Marc will be at the party."
"And Marc left a RSVP message on my recorder, too, which is a good thing." He grinned, and continued petting Camelot, who'd gone on to lovingly knead his thigh with her paws, her adoration of her owner obvious. "We couldn't have the party without them."
She nodded, realizing their luck in that area. "Though I'm sure we would have figured out some way to persuade them to be here." She glanced over the party's agenda. "So, you're okay with everything we decided on today?"
He shrugged as if it were all of little consequence to him. "Sure."
Amazing how quickly they wrapped things up when she had his cooperation. She gathered her papers and organized them into a neat pile, unable to believe that Ryan was going to let her leave without attempting to waylay her. She should have been grateful for his courteous, accommodating conduct, but she found herself undeniably disappointed instead.
"You're making this way too easy on me, Matthews," she commented lightly. And now that they had the details nailed, there wasn't any reason for her to spend extra time with him.
"I think you learned your lesson about giving up safe and practical for variety. As well as the value of compromising."
She stuffed her party planning notes into her tote bag and glanced his way, seeing a glimmer of the Ryan she was used to dealing with in the teasing tone of his voice. "Okay, I knew this was coming," she said, reading a deeper meaning into his comment. "You're gloating."
"I am not," he replied evenly, still maintaining that relaxed, blasé composure.
His expression was completely impassive, but she was beginning to read Ryan well enough to suspect he was feeling too confident inside. "Are too."
His long fingers burrowed into Camelot's soft fur as he rubbed her back, and he tipped his head inquisitively at Jessica. "What do you think I'm gloating over?"
As if he didn't know. "The fact that you proved me wrong about the cakes."
His shoulder lifted in a casual shrug, and the corner of his mouth eased into a sexy grin. "I thought it was a lesson well learned."
A lesson in seduction.Heat and desire curled through her, and she fought valiantly to shake the sensation.
"And speaking of lessons," he continued in a deep drawl. "There is one more thing I want to discuss with you before you leave."
She sent him a curious glance. "What's that?"
"Have you bought your gift for Brooke and Marc yet?"
She capped her pen and dropped it into her purse. "I picked up a few of those extra-big bath towels at a sale yesterday, but I still need to find the other items I wanted to get them."
He worked his jaw as he thought about that for a few seconds. "Are you still intent on buying your own gift for them, instead of going in together on our individual ideas?"
She sighed. So, they were back to that issue. "Yes. I still believe that my gift idea is more-"
"Practical and sensible," he finished for her, his tone indicating what he thought of her way of thinking-boring.
She straightened defensively. "It's whatI'd want for a gift."
A dark brow lifted. "Really?"
The challenge lacing his voice and the glimmer of deviltry in his gaze sparked something deep within her… an illicit excitement and forbidden thrill. "Yes,really."
He blinked lazily, and resumed lavishing attention on Camelot. "Have you ever sat in a big bathtub with a man?"
She tucked a swath of hair behind her ear, hating that her answer would show too much of her inexperience. "No."
"Then you have no idea what it feels like to have your back scrubbed, or to have someone else soap up your body, slowly, leisurely…"
She resisted the urge to squirm in her chair. The mesmerizing huskiness of his voice and his calculated words caressed her, finding and touching all those secret warm places of hers. She watched his big hands stroke over the cat, and desire and need tightened her belly.
With effort, she flashed him a sassy grin. "My loofah works just fine, thank you very much."
He chuckled softly. The sound wrapped around her, as intimate as an embrace. Suddenly, everything about him had taken on sexual overtones.
"But it's not nearly as much fun as two slick bodies sliding against each other," he murmured. "And then there are the body paints I was telling you about, and the silky feel of fingers gliding over sleek skin as you draw funny, sexy pictures on your lover's back, then lick them off."
Her pulse skittered wildly at the image that popped into her mind. Nowthis was the Ryan she knew, taunting and teasing her with words. He wasn't physically touching her, but his words had a powerful effect on her body.
She glanced away from his direct stare, but her feminine nerves continued to tingle with awareness. "I'll have to take your word for it."
He nudged Camelot off his lap, and the feline jumped down and sauntered over to her food bowl. Ryan scooted back his chair, stretched out his long, muscular legs, and folded his hands over his flat stomach. "If you have no idea what any of that is like, how can you be so sure that you'd prefer towels and a hamper and a vanity set over more sensual pleasures?"
Indeed.His question was legitimately inquisitive, and she wished she had a better answer for him than the one that fell from her lips. "I suppose I shouldn't knock it until I've tried it, but what can I say? Iam practical, always have been." And she suddenly wondered what she'd missed as a result of having grown up being so careful and prudent.
Slippery, sensual, erotic sex.
"And you're too damn proud of that fact." There was no criticism in his tone, just warm amusement. Standing, he held out his hand to her. "Come on, Jessie, I want to show you something."
Not budging, she eyed his outstretched hand dubiously. "Said the spider to the fly."
He laughed. "But you're curious, aren't you?"
Oh, more than he could ever know. She was tempted beyond reason, and she struggled to hold t
ight to her more reserved nature. "Why can't you just tell me what it is?"
"Because it would be much more fun toshow you." He waggled his fingers, enticing her. "You can either take my hand, Jessie, or you can leave. It'syour choice and I'll go with whatever you decide. But if I know you, it'll drive you nuts all the way home, thinking about what I wanted to show you, wondering what I had in mind…"
A tiny shiver rippled through her. Hedid know her. And it would drive her crazy not knowing where he'd planned to lead her. While her heart told her to bolt for the door and put as much distance as she could between her and Ryan, her traitorous body tended to gravitate toward the promises in his gaze.
Telling herself she only meant to appease her interest and would only spare a brief glimpse at his surprise, she stood and placed her hand in his. Immediate warmth engulfed her as he entwined their fingers. Without hesitating, she allowed him to guide her up the spiral staircase and into his master bedroom. She caught a quick hint of bold, masculine colors of hunter green and navy blue, and dark oak furniture, before he tugged her closer to the king-sized bed and the big basket sitting in the center nearly overflowing with ingredients of a sensual variety.
She took quick inventory of the items, finding bottles of bath products, candles, a bottle of wine with two crystal glasses, and a rich, purple, velvet chenille robe tucked to the side. There was more, but she'd seen enough to catch the gist of Ryan's gift.
"Okay, I get the idea," she said, meeting his warm, chocolate-brown gaze. "But I still think Brooke and Marc will find my gift more useful."
"This isn't for them. This is lesson number two." He released her hand, and grinned wickedly. "My sensual versus your practical."
It took a moment for his meaning to sink in, but when it did, her eyes widened incredulously. "You wantme to take a bath withyou?"
"In a matter of speaking, yes." He spoke as though his suggestion was nothing out of the ordinary. "Since you're so skeptical about my gift idea, I thought we'd give practical application a try to convince you otherwise."
Too easily, she recalled his cake test, and his creative, provocative way of convincing her that variety was a very good thing. Just remembering what had transpired in her kitchen, on her table, made her feel weak in the knees, breathless, and flushed with shameless anticipation.
Seduced Page 8
