Husband Hunting 101

by Rita Herron

  Her eyes twinkled with mischief. "Absolutely."

  In the background, the feminine scents of perfume filled the air, and the music rose to a crescendo of sultry tones. In spite of his brain's warning, Zack suddenly couldn't keep his hands still.

  He gently touched a strand of silky red hair that had swept down into her face. They were standing so close her breath caressed his cheek, and he could almost hear the faint rhythm of her heart fluttering as he gently pushed the strand behind her ear.

  The movement revealed her hearing aid and she bit her lip, then started to turn away, but he caught her chin and gently pulled her face back to his. A hint of vulnerability shadowed her face, deepening his desire.

  Then her breathing became erratic, and hunger flooded him as he realized that she wanted him as much as he wanted her.

  He inhaled her sultry scent and something sweeter, softer mingled with desire, some emotion he refused to acknowledge or admit. It had to be hunger, an extension of the excitement burgeoning in his loins, nothing more, not affection or love, no, he wouldn't let himself feel those things.

  They weren't real. After all, he barely knew her.

  Still, a raw ache for her consumed him.

  Then Jenna's soft lips parted, the look of yearning in her expression mirroring his own need, and the air around them became electrified. Music echoed in the background as he lowered his mouth and touched his lips to hers. She lifted her hand and stroked his jaw, then a low moan rumbled from deep in her throat and a small tremor rippled through her body, spiking his passion.

  Unable to resist, he curved his arm around her waist and dragged her into his arms. Zack's mouth caught hers, and he drank greedily, his pulse racing as she met him eagerly. His tongue made a foray of her mouth and she thrust her own at him, tasting his desire and pressing her body into his with such need that he claimed her mouth over and over again. His hands forgot to behave and slid down her spine, massaged her slender waist, pulled her heat into his, and when her hands cupped his backside, he groaned with a primal urge that shocked him.

  Jenna was all softness and sensuality wrapped in a sweet package of passion, and he wanted to tear open the ribbon and rip off the wrapping paper. He eased her against the wall, sliding his hands over her hips. One hand roamed upward to cover the soft mound of her breast. They were so full, so warm and welcoming that he groaned. Then he eased his fingers beneath the satin fabric of her blouse, savoring the touch of her bare skin against his fingers.

  He wanted more.

  She nibbled at his earlobe, and he trailed kisses down her neck, biting at the sensitive skin behind her ear, dipping his head to kiss her throat, then lower to the swell of her breasts. The scent of roses almost overwhelmed him as he cupped her breasts. He lowered his head and the tip of her nipple puckered toward him, straining against the sheer fabric. Abandoning his common sense, he slowly unbuttoned the pearl buttons of her blouse and peeled away the fabric. He heard her quick intake of breath as she threaded her fingers in his hair, angling his face so she could see into his eyes.

  "Zack, we can't," she whispered.

  "Yes, we can. I want you," he said in a husky voice. "You're so beautiful."

  Her eyes grew moist, brimming with desire and emotions that looked so raw and vulnerable that his heart clenched. He kissed her lips, tenderly, sweetly, his fingers stroking and circling her nipples.

  A shudder coursed through her, but she tensed in his arms. "Zack, we have to stop," she said again, more firmly this time. "I... I want more than one night."

  "I might be good for two," he said in a teasing tone.

  But she didn't laugh. "I can't," she said, her voice uneven.

  Tears and emotions he didn't want to deal with laced her voice.

  Emotions he couldn't let allow himself to feel. For loving someone, giving them your heart only brought pain and heartache.

  Nodding to indicate that he'd accepted her request, he dropped his head so his forehead leaned against hers. Their unsteady breathing rattled in the air as he struggled for reason. God knows, he'd lost control already.

  "I'm sorry," she whispered, clamping down on her lip.

  "Shh, don't." He brushed his knuckles across her cheek." I'm the one who's sorry." His heart tightened into a vise and he wanted to give her more, wanted to tell her he could give her more than one night, that he could give her a lifetime just like she wanted.

  But fear and painful memories clogged his mind, and he swallowed, slowly righting her clothes and forcing himself to draw away. That little boy inside him surfaced and he remembered in vivid detail all those other weddings. He'd never forget being the ringbearer for his dad when he was six years old—walking down the aisle holding that tiny little pillow with the gold band in the middle, looking up at his new mom-to-be with such dreams, then hearing only days later that she wanted to keep the housekeeper, that she had no intention of playing nursemaid to two scrawny boys.

  Yeah, he'd seen the hopes and happiness of a couple in love countless times, then he'd witnessed the devastation when it all ended. He'd been the innocent bystander, the one wondering what had gone wrong and wishing that those stupid fairy tales his teachers had read in books came true—but knowing they didn't.

  Chapter 6

  Jenna stared into the last dregs of her coffee in misery, grateful Colleen had agreed to meet her at the bookstore coffee shop. She didn't feel like facing her empty apartment, not with the sexually-charged scene at her store haunting her with what ifs.

  What if she'd let Zack make love to her? What if it turned into more...

  No. Hadn't Heloise insisted that you could not change a man? And she was right.

  Certainly she wanted Zack. She wanted him with every fiber of her being.

  But wanting and needing were the stuff of fairy tales.

  And fairy tales didn't always come true.

  Although a night in bed with Zack would be fabulous... Even a night of phone sex or sexting...

  Colleen slid into the seat across from her. "You look bummed. What's wrong, Jenna? Are you having problems at the store?"

  A red flush crept up Jenna's neck. "Uh, sort of."

  Colleen stirred cream and sugar in her coffee. "Oh, no it's slow?"

  "No, business is good," Jenna said. "My new lingerie for Christmas arrived, and it's spectacular. You'll have to come in and take a look."

  "I can't wait." Colleen giggled. "Not that I need new lingerie."

  Jenna forced herself to smile. "Married life must be suiting you?"

  "It's better than I imagined," Colleen said, "I love Mark and he loves me. Last night we climbed out on the deck..." She hesitated as if she realized she shouldn't spill intimate details. "Well, never mind."

  Jenna patted her hand. "Seriously, I'm happy for you. I know you dated your share of jerks before Mark."

  Colleen nodded. "Sometimes you have to kiss a lot of frogs."

  "That's all that's out there now," Jenna said morosely. "Complete toads."

  Colleen curled her hand over Jenna's. "Honey, don't give up. There's someone for you. You just haven't found him yet."

  Or maybe she had and he was unavailable.

  Jenna drummed her nails on the counter. "Maybe it's me. I seem to be attracted to the wrong kind of men. The ones who hate marriage." Jenna sighed. "Colleen, I don't want to be single forever."

  "There's no one in the class you're taking?"

  "So far just weirdoes and nerds." Jenna made a face. "No one I want to spend one night with, much less the rest of my life with."

  "How about that cooking club?"

  "I changed my mind about that I met the stripper at the mixer."

  "God, say no more." Colleen pinched off a piece of chocolate cake and inhaled it. "Isn't there anybody else you're attracted to? Maybe someone you met through business."

  "Well, there is someone..."

  "Do I know him?"

  "Yeah, sort of." Jenna squirmed in her chair, reached for the sweetener and acciden
tally spilled the packets across the table.

  "Uh-oh." Colleen frowned.

  "I didn't mean it to happen," Jenna said, scrambling to scrape the packets together.

  "Don't tell me."

  Jenna choked back the guilt at her own stupidity. After all, Mark had warned her.

  Colleen sat her coffee mug down with a thud. "You've got the hots for Mark's brother, don't you?"

  Jenna nodded, her eyes filling with tears.

  "No wonder you're miserable." Colleen looked stricken. "This could be trouble."

  Jenna dropped her face in her hands and moaned. "I know. I can't seem to help myself."

  Colleen tilted her head sideways. "Well, I hate to say it but it is understandable. Zack is awfully cute," Colleen conceded.

  "Cute?" Jenna shrieked in exasperation. "He is undoubtedly the sexiest, most handsome man I've ever met."

  Colleen winced.

  "I can't keep my hands off of him and he can't keep his hands off of me."

  Colleen shook her head in sympathy.

  "We almost made love right in the middle of my store!"

  Colleen leaned forward, her interest piqued. "Really?"

  "And I'm thinking about jumping his bones. Even if he doesn't hang around afterwards."

  Colleen's eyes lit up, then she seemed to rethink the situation and frowned. "Mark will kill Zack if he hurts you."

  Jenna gave up on the sugar packets and cradled her head in her hands. "No, I don't want him to interfere."

  "Does Zack know how you feel?"

  "It doesn't matter," Jenna wailed. "He's so phobic about commitment that after he kissed me, he totally freaked and ran."

  Colleen nodded knowingly. "But you're falling in love with him anyway?"

  Jenna's lower lip quivered. "Yes. Good lord, what am I going to do?"

  Colleen sighed worriedly. "I could ask Mark to talk to him."

  "No," Jenna said in a panic. "I don't want everyone to know what an idiot I am!"

  "You're not an idiot." Colleen took another bite of cake. "But maybe Mark could help. I think Zack's anti-marriage theories have a lot to do with his parents."

  "He mentioned them and the divorce and his stepmothers," Jenna admitted. "Have you met either one of them?"

  Colleen nodded. "Believe it or not, they both showed up at the wedding. And let me tell you—Mark and Zack did not grow up with the Brady Bunch."

  "They didn't even have an Alice?"

  "Not even an Alice."

  "It's understandable that he's jaded," Jenna admitted. "I guess some guys were meant to be bachelors and he's one of them."

  Colleen wound a strand of her brown hair around her finger. "Just hang in there one more week, Jen. That friend of mine, Blair, will be back and I'm setting the two of you up. You'll be perfect together."

  "I don't care if we're perfect," Jenna said in despair. "As long as he can make me forget Zack."

  * * *

  Zack was totally miserable.

  Dammit. He knew he should be happy Jenna had put a stop to their lovemaking, but his body still ached, not only from the eight miles he'd just run, but for Jenna.

  His mind whirled with reasons they should be together. Lust, passion, hunger—the sex would probably make the earth shake and all that other romantic stuff women liked.

  But no, Jenna had to be reasonable—and nice, and smart, and sweet, and sexy as hell.

  He even liked her.

  Which would be great if she was homely. But she wasn't. She was the kind of woman that got under a man's skin and stayed there. The kind who made him consider more than one night.

  The dangerous kind who could hurt him.

  Anger wormed itself into his conscious as he contemplated her husband hunt—would she fall apart in another man's arms the way she had his? He ground his teeth together at the mere thought of her kissing another man. No way.

  Dragging his weary body up the steps to his apartment, he let himself in, stripped off his sweaty running clothes and tossed them into the washing machine, then opened the new box of soap, complements of his potential client. Washburn's Laundry Detergent—they were calling it Crystal White for now. The stuff smelled like spoiled lemon pudding and reminded him how much he hated doing laundry.

  So how the hell was he supposed to think of some catchy logo for washing powder? Especially when the name, Crystal White sounded more like a soft drink than a soap. They needed to name it Tornado or Hurricane, something catchy and strong, something a man wouldn't mind putting into his shopping cart. Only a woman or a wuss would buy soap named Crystal White.

  Padding naked to the shower, he lathered his chest, his arms and legs, wishing he could cleanse Jenna's scent and sexy, sweet eyes from his mind the way he could wash the grime from his body.

  But no, he had a feeling she'd conquered his heart somehow and he'd have a gaping hole left there when his business with her was finished. He towel-dried, pulled on a pair of boxers, grabbed a beer and a two-day-old slice of pizza from the fridge and bit into it while he pulled out his sketchpad.

  He could not have Jenna Barrett. No one-night stand, no fling, because she wanted it all. He couldn't make empty promises the way his old man had, not ones he knew wouldn't last. He'd bury himself in work, finish her campaign, land this new account. Hell, he'd be so busy with customers and work he wouldn't have time to think about her.

  He just had to get his act together. As if on cue, the telephone jangled. He answered it, hoping on some wild whim it might be Jenna. Instead his latest client's deep baritone boomed over the line.

  "West, this is Washburn. I've been thinking about our meeting."

  "Yeah." This morning he'd bluffed his way through the meeting with Washburn, but he wouldn't be able to do that again. The old man was too shrewd.

  "I need to wrap this thing up and get moving. Can you have something for me by Friday?"

  "You mean this Friday, sir?" That was only three days away.

  "Yes, West, this Friday." Washburn cleared his throat. "The Templeton Agency called and they have their plan outlined. But to be fair, I wanted to give you a chance, son." He cleared his throat. "I remember what it was like to be young and just starting off. I admire a man who goes after what he wants."

  Sweat beaded on his lip. Then he should be going after Jenna. "I appreciate that, sir. I'm sure I can have something to you by Friday."

  They set a time for their meeting, then Zack hung up, the cold pizza burning a hole in his stomach. He had three days to design a brilliant campaign or he would lose his chance at this account. And if that happened, his one-man, fledgling company would struggle, floundering worse than his love life.

  And if he won the account, he could at least give himself a paycheck and have a little stability.

  Hell, if he worked enough, he wouldn't be able to think about not having a lovelife.

  Forcing his mind to his task, he propped the soap box on top of the TV, then drew an outline of the box of detergent. But his creativity was quickly dulled by the sickly greenish color of the package. Maybe he'd suggest a different packaging, something bold and bright, maybe an emerald green with soft yellow and white flecks.

  Hmm, he drew the box and redesigned the package, including soap swirling in the machine with the word Tornado written in bold letters above it. Much better. He let his hand do some free forms, brainstorming, and drew some scenes of families doing laundry, a family on the beach with the sun shining, boys traipsing in the house with dirty clothes just as he and Mark had done when they'd been rough- housing when they were small. Then he sketched a baby with red hair and big green eyes playing pat-a-cake in the mud.

  He stared at the deep green color of the box, realizing he'd chosen it because it reminded him of Jenna's eyes. And the baby—the tyke could have been a little Jenna.

  Damn. His hand moved of its own accord and once again he found himself drawing pictures of Jenna. Jenna in the store today, Jenna wearing nothing but the red garters he'd seen dangling from t
hat Christmas tree, Jenna tossing the rose-scented bubble bath into an antique clawfoot tub. Jenna slipping into the sea of bubbles, then emerging later in all her glorious nakedness one beautiful inch at a time.

  Soak your troubles away in a warm bubble bath, he scribbled at the top...

  He closed his eyes, allowing the creative part of his brain to take control and run wild, hoping some seed of genius would spring to life about the detergent ad. A few hours later he woke up and realized he'd fallen asleep with his hand curled around the book, and he'd been dreaming about doing laundry and enjoying it. Because he was washing soft red teddies, silky boxers with jingle bells on the front and... baby clothes?

  He had to be losing his mind.

  But he'd also dreamed of a great slogan for Jenna's ad. Maybe he'd drive to her apartment and see if she was still awake.

  Only what if she was there with another man?

  * * *

  Zack stared at his watch and forced himself to wait a good five minutes in front of Jenna's apartment before leaping from the car. It took him another two minutes to collect his portfolio and make it up the sidewalk. His legs were quaking and he almost slammed the door on his hand. He rapped on the door, impatient when it took Jenna several minutes to answer.

  When she finally opened the door, his pulse spiked at the sight of the long, silky robe she wore; the damn thing had melted to her figure in all the right places. And knowing she probably had nothing or next to nothing on underneath the robe made his blood go from cold to hot.

  "Zack?" she asked softly, a rosy flush on her checks. "What are you doing here?"

  Damn. His body was already hardening. He was in big trouble.

  "Zack?"

  He was so nervous he blurted out the first thing that came to mind, the slogan he'd dreamed up for her ad, "It's what's underneath that counts."

  Chapter 7

  "Excuse me?" Anger flushed Jenna's cheeks. She tugged her robe tighter around her, both ridiculously pleased and frustrated at the heat in Zack's eyes as his gaze raked over her silk-clad body.