Seduced

by Janelle Denison

  A dark brow quirked over the rim of his ridiculous-looking spectacles. "So, has Jessica been naughty or nice this year?" he murmured, his deep, rich voice sending a shiver rippling down her spine.

  She could feel a blush tingling along her skin, as well as the curious stares of his mother and sisters. Luckily, the kids were being so loud that it was impossible to hear her and Ryan's conversation.

  "I've been so good that I'm probably one of the top ten names on your list." She grinned, and decided to turn the tables on him. "And what about yourself, Santa?"

  He looked surprised at her direct challenge, then his eyes sparkled with a wicked, unrepentant light, and she knew trouble was heading her way. "Oh, definitely naughty. I'm expecting a lump of coal in my stocking this year, but all the fun I've had has been worth it."

  She laughed, not wanting to think about the kind of "fun" Ryan might have indulged in. She was certainly well aware of how naughty he'd been with her. Feeling a little mischievous herself, she leaned close and whispered in his ear, "Naughty and nice can make for a very interesting combination."

  He released a very hearty "ho, ho, ho," then added more privately, "I'll certainly keep that in mind when I bring youyour gift."

  * * *

  'Twasthe night before Christmas, and all through the house, not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse… just Ryan.

  It was aquarter until midnight, the house was dark and silent, and Ryan stealthily crept upstairs, avoiding the wooden planks he'd discovered as a teenager that creaked. He snuck past his parents' closed door, and continued down the hall past his sisters' rooms, where they slept with their husbands and kids, to his old bedroom where Jessica was sleeping for the night while he took the couch downstairs. Slipping quietly into the shadowed room, he moved toward the bed.

  "Ryan?" came Jessica's husky whisper.

  "Yeah, it's me," he confirmed, sitting on the edge of the mattress.

  "What are you doing in here?" She propped herself up on her elbow, and the moonlight filtering through the window made her tousled, honey-blond hair shimmer around her shoulders. "It's nearlymidnight, and your parents are right down the hall-"

  He pressed his fingers to her lips, stopping her chastisement. "Yeah, and you're gonna wake everyone up if you don't be quiet."

  Her eyes widened slightly, and she pulled his hand away. "Ryan, I was just teasing about that naughty and nice thing. I mean, we can't do anythingnow, and especially not under your parents' roof."

  She sounded so prim and proper, he couldn't help but grin. "Oh, I plan to take you up on your naughty and nice comment, but that's not why I'm here," he said, keeping his voice low. "I want you to come with me." He stood, and waited for her to do the same.

  She frowned up at him. "Why?"

  He propped his hands on his hips and exhaled a breath, summoning patience. Would she always question his motives? Would she ever believe and accept that his interest in her went beyond his original plan of seducing her?

  "Because I asked," he said, deliberately vague. A simple issue of trust was at stake, and he wanted her to acknowledge that she trusted him, even on this small, insignificant issue.

  After a brief hesitation, she tossed back the covers and slipped off the bed, garbed from neck to toes in a long-sleeved nightshirt, bottoms, and socks.

  "Nice pajamas," he teased.

  She scrunched her nose at him as her gaze took in his cotton shorts and T-shirt. "If you haven't noticed, it's winter, and flannel is warm."

  "As an alternative, I suppose it suffices," he murmured. "But body heat can be just as effective."

  She rolled her eyes at his innuendo, but accepted the hand he held out to her. Then, like two little kids wanting to catch Santa in action, they snuck back downstairs to the dark family room. Ryan hit a switch on the wall, and the lights on the Christmas tree came on, their twinkling colors providing a dazzling, magical atmosphere.

  "What are you going to do?" Jessica asked in a hushed voice filled with amusement. "Find out which ones are your gifts and shake them?"

  He chuckled. "No, you and I are going to put Santa's gifts under the tree, which has somehow become my job over the years. And then we have cookies to eat and milk to drink so the little imps upstairs will know that Santa was really here."

  She glanced at the coffee table, where the kids had left a plate piled high with the sugar cookies they'd made that evening, and a glass of milk that had no doubt turned warm. A brief glimpse of melancholy flickered over her expression, but by the time she met his gaze again whatever emotional memory she'd been caught up in was gone.

  She smiled at him. "Well, let's get started," she said, enthusiasm infusing her voice.

  She followed him to the coat closet that doubled as a storage area under the stairs, and they spent the next half hour hauling presents out and placing them under the tree until the corner of the room was overflowing with gaily wrapped gifts. His sisters had left small bags of items to stuff in the kids' stockings, and by the time he and Jessica were done, it appeared that Santa had, indeed, paid a visit to the Matthews home.

  "And now for the cookies," Jessica reminded him, caught up in the spirit of things, just as he'd intended.

  After the snippets she'd revealed about her childhood, he'd suspected that it had been a long time since she'd enjoyed such frivolous fun, and it made his heart swell that he was able to share this with her. "Let me go get a fresh glass of milk."

  He returned a minute later and sat beside her on the couch. The blinking lights from the tree cast pretty highlights in her hair, and made her eyes shimmer with the delight still lingering from their escapade of playing Santa's helpers.

  He picked up a cookie sprinkled with red and green sugar, and popped the entire thing into his mouth and chewed. "I think this is the best part of Christmas."

  She slanted him a curious look as she selected her own baked confection, then nibbled on it. "What? Eating the cookies?"

  He shook his head, and washed down his bite with a drink of milk. "Knowing that the kids are going to come downstairs in the morning and see the gifts under the tree and the plate with crumbs on it, and truly believe that Santa was here." He filched another cookie, and thought about himself as a young boy on Christmas, so filled with energy and excitement, until he'd discovered the truth about St. Nick. "I remember I was so crushed when I learned there was no Santa Claus."

  "How did you find out?" She shared his glass of milk, then licked the remaining droplets off her lips.

  Ignoring the automatic desire that flared to life within him at Jessica's innocent gesture, he reminded himself that this weekend wasn't about the seduction they'd yet to consummate. Averting his attention, he took one of the remaining cookies between his fingers and crushed it to leave visible crumbs on the plate. "Well, I thought I'd be creative and test the Santa theory, and instead of leaving cookies for him, I insisted on making him a peanut butter and sardine sandwich."

  "Oh, yuck." She blanched, her expression reflecting her disgust at the combination. "Were you trying to assure that Santa never paid another visit to your house?"

  He chuckled. "Well, I remember thinking if the sandwich was gone, then there really was a Santa because he'd be so hungry from his trip around the world that he'd eat it, or feed it to Rudolph. But if it was still there in the morning, then there wasn't really a Santa, because no normal person would eat something so awful."

  "Interesting theory," she said, her tone wry. "And what happened?"

  "In the morning, it was gone." He licked the remnants of sugar from his fingers.

  "Your parents ate it?" she asked incredulously.

  "Not exactly." Grinning, he reclined against the sofa cushions and stacked his hands behind his head. "I found it in the trash. I was eight, and I think I was ready to discover the truth, but I was still crushed."

  She nodded in understanding, and there was that melancholy again.

  "What about you?" he asked, tugging on her pajama sleeve before
she could emotionally retreat from him. "When did you discover that there wasn't really a Santa Claus?"

  Sitting back, she drew her knees up on the couch and wrapped her arms around her legs. "Well, it was the year my parents divorced." She gave him a sad smile that made him ache for her. "I was nine years old, and after losing my father, believing in Santa Claus was just so important to me. A part of me knew he wasn't real, but I clung to the fairy tale."

  With a soft sigh, she rested her chin on her knees and focused on the Christmas tree lights. "I remember asking for the newest, latest Barbie playhouse that was out at the time. It was really expensive, and Brooke kept giving me the spiel that Santa has a lot of kids to bring gifts to, and not all kids get what they want. She knew where the presents came from, and also knew I was in for a big letdown. Still, that was the only thing I put on my list, because I wanted so badly to believe that Santa was real, and that he'd bring me that one toy because I knew it was too expensive for my mother to afford."

  She ducked her head so he couldn't see her face, but her trembling voice gave her away. "My mother was hardly ever home because she was working two jobs, and when I heard her come in on Christmas Eve after working her late shift at a restaurant, I snuck out to the living room and saw her sitting on the floor wrapping presents. And there, among a few inexpensive trinkets for me and Brooke was the Barbie playhouse I'd asked for. And in the morning, it had a tag on it that said, 'From Santa'."

  Finally, she turned and looked at him, the moisture in her eyes revealing her inner pain. "As much as I loved my mother for scrimping and saving to give me my one wish, I stopped believing in a lot of things that Christmas."

  Her anguish seemingly became his own, squeezing his chest tight, and the only thing he could think of was chasing away her misery and bad memories and giving her something she could cling to and depend on. Him.

  "Jessie, sweetheart," he whispered, and reached for her, because mere words were inadequate to soothe her. She came into his embrace without resisting, burrowing into him like a lost soul seeking comfort. Wrapping an arm around her back and holding her close, he eased them both down onto the couch so she was lying between him and the cushions, cocooned in his warmth and strength.

  She buried her face against his neck, and a great, big shuddering sigh wracked her entire body. Then, he felt the hot dampness of tears seeping through his T-shirt, and knew all he could do was just be there for her while she came to terms with the pain of her past.

  He cuddled her close and watched the tree lights dance in front of them, stroking her side and hip through her flannel pajamas until her breathing grew deep and even and he knew she'd succumbed to peaceful sleep. In a few minutes, he'd wake her up and take her back to her room. In the meantime, he savored the feel of her, the jasmine scent of her hair and skin, and how perfectly she fit into his life… and he came to realize with a calm acceptance that despite not looking for love, he'd found it with her. And no matter what he had to do, he wanted to make room for her in his life, his future.

  If only she'd allow him into her heart.

  * * *

  Jessica snuggled closer to the warm, masculine body next to hers, luxuriating in the sense of complete contentment and security enveloping her. Their sleeping quarters were cramped, but she didn't mind. Her head rested on Ryan's chest, her arm was slung over his stomach, and her legs entwined with his. A sleepy smile touched her lips when she realized that one of Ryan's hands was tangled in her hair, and his warm breath brushed across her temple.

  She'd neverslept with a man before, nor had any man ever held her so tenderly, without expecting a sexual favor in return. And despite the desire that Ryan inspired, she liked the feeling of just being held in his arms, especially after last night and the desolate memories that had swamped her. He'd silently consoled her and allayed the loneliness that had been her constant companion for far too long.

  Yet, she knew the isolation and solitude would return once he was no longer a part of her life. And as much as the thought of letting Ryan go hurt, she accepted it as inevitable, knowing their lives, their aspirations and dreams for the future, didn't mesh.

  Ignoring the ache in her heart, she sighed and rubbed her cheek against his chest, focusing on the present and what they had in common-their attraction, desire and passion. And for now, for today and the next week, she planned to be greedy and experience it all. And then, when that awful loneliness settled in, she'd have wondrous memories to draw on, to keep her warm on the long, solitary nights ahead.

  The sound of hushed whispers and stifled giggles reached past Jessica's musings, and brought her back to the present. She blinked her eyes open and found herself staring at Ryan's three nieces, who stood in front of the couch watching them sleep. From the other room, she could hear the adults approaching, too. Not sure how to handle the situation or explain their dilemma, even though they'd done nothing wrong, she gave Ryan a firm shake.

  He awoke, slowly and lazily. His slumberous gaze met hers, and a sexy smile eased up the corners of his mouth. "Morning," he murmured.

  Trying not to let that husky, intimate voice of his and just how gorgeous he looked first thing in the morning distract her, she nodded toward the trio in front of them. "Uh, we've got company."

  Ryan turned his head, and though his body tensed with instant awareness, his expression gave nothing away. "Morning, girls," he said cheerfully.

  "Uncle Ryan," Jackie said, a slight frown marring her brows. "How come you and Jessica are sleeping on the couch?"

  "Well…" His voice trailed off as he obviously tried to conjure an excuse. Taking more time, he sat up, just as the rest of the Matthews clan converged in the family room. Surprise and speculation registered across everyone's faces at seeing them together, and Jessica felt her face flush at being caught in such an embarrassing predicament.

  "Hey, did you two get to see Santa last night?" Ryan's sister Lindsay asked, amusement lacing her voice.

  Alyssa's eyes rounded with hope at that thought. "Did you?"

  Richie dashed past his father and raced into the room, dancing around the coffee table, pointing to the plate with the crumbs on it, and the empty milk glass. "Look, Santa ate the cookies and drank the milk! Did you see him, Uncle Ryan? Did you?"

  Ryan dragged a hand through his tousled hair and grinned. "The thing is, Jessica and I snuck down here last night and tried to stay awake for Santa, but we were so tired that we just didn't make it." He shook his head regretfully.

  "But look at all the presents he left," Jennifer said, scrambling over to the tree and the overflow of gifts. "Here's one for me, and one for Max, and one for Grandma…"

  As the kids squealed in excitement and huddled around the tree, and the adults moved in to help sort and pass out the presents to the eager children, Ryan took the opportunity to grasp a private moment with Jessica.

  "I'm sorry," he whispered, appearing contrite at the awkward situation he'd put her in. "I swear I didn't mean for us to fall asleep together and wake up with an audience."

  She smiled to reassure him. "It's okay."

  Uncaring of who might see the affectionate gesture, he stroked his knuckles down her cheek, then tucked a wayward strand of hair behind her ear. "You ready to enjoy Christmas morning, Matthews style?"

  She shivered at his touch, reveling in the warmth and tenderness in his gaze. "Yeah, I am."

  And as she watched Ryan with his nieces and nephews, and was accepted so completely into the fold of his family, she knew this sense of belonging would be her most precious memory of all.

  Chapter 10

  Tonight's the Night.

  Rod Stewart's raspy voice and the classic lyrics to that sexy song reached Ryan just as he stepped into his house from the garage after an unexpectedly long day at the office. Having seen Jessica's car parked out by the curb, he knew she was decorating for the New Year's Eve party, which was tomorrow night.

  Using the key he'd given her, she'd spent the past two afternoons setting u
p chairs, bringing in party supplies, and embellishing the bottom level rooms of his house with twinkling lights and flora. They'd been so busy since Christmas, both of them preparing for the surprise party and him wrapping up loose ends on a few cases at work, that they hadn't had any private, intimate time forthem.

  Tonight, there was something different in the air, an undeniable sensuality and desire that made his blood warm in his veins and his heart beat faster. Feeling drawn in by the sultry mood of the music, and seduced by the sexy lyrics that seemed so fitting to what Ryan felt for Jessica, he headed toward the front room in search of the only woman who'd ever managed to capture a significant piece of his heart.

  She'd also managed to charm his family, too, as he'd known she would. His mother had specifically called him at work to tell him how much she'd enjoyed Jessica's company, and that she hoped to see more of her in the future. Though Ryan would have liked to assure his parents that Jessica would be a part of his life, he knew he couldn't make that promise. Not yet, but maybe after tonight that would change, because he planned to take a huge risk and wear his emotions on his sleeve.

  With Rod Stewart's raspy voice swirling around him, he turned the last corner into the living room, and came to an abrupt stop. Because of the music, Jessica hadn't heard him enter the house from the garage. She was busy twining a string of white lights along the bottom of the spiral staircase railing, but what captured his attention were her uninhibited, sinuous movements as she danced to the classic tune. Her husky voice sang the suggestive lyrics, while her hips swayed to the beat of the music, slow and enticing. Then she closed her eyes, lifted her arms, and undulated-a full-bodied shimmy as captivating as any exotic dancer's move.

  He grew hard just watching her, wanting her with a hunger and need that superceded anything he'd ever experienced. And then it hit him… the pure rightness of the moment. Despite all he'd achieved professionally,this is what had been missing from his life. Jessica, with her sass and laughter and warmth. Jessica, filling his soul, his waking hours.She was who he wanted to come home to every day.She was who he wanted to sleep with at night.