Lately, seemed like everyone he knew had been getting married. Pity he couldn’t always feel happy about it. He hated that he’d become such a cynic. But when he saw one of his teammates marrying a woman who reminded him of Nicole … well, he couldn’t help wondering how long it’d be before she’d realize that being married to a professional sportsman meant days and weeks apart, and a husband who came home from a game wanting nothing more than to lie in the spa and have a bit of quiet for a day or two, before heading back into training to do it all again the following week. And how long it would take her to get bored, start looking for excitement someplace else.
* * *
Jenna sighed as the bride and groom kissed, husband and wife now. They both looked lit from within, and she envied them their obvious belief in their future happiness. She found herself praying their marriage would work, that they’d find the kind of partnership she’d always dreamed of. She had to blink a tear or two away as they walked up the aisle to the swelling music, followed by the bridesmaids and groomsmen. Finn grinned at his waving kids as he passed, a pretty bridesmaid on his arm, and Jenna felt a pang of jealousy. She’d like to have been the woman by his side.
She pushed the errant thought aside. She was going to a party, and thanks to Sarah, she looked better than she ever had. She was going to enjoy feeling like an attractive single woman tonight. Maybe even dancing a bit.
Harry and Sophie weren’t as thrilled, though, when they were reminded of the program for the evening.
“Why do we need a babysitter?” Harry asked. “Why can’t Jenna stay with us?”
“Jenna isn’t working now,” John chided. “She’s having her holiday, and she doesn’t need to be bothered with you tonight. Don’t be a nuisance, Harry.”
“Don’t you like taking care of us, Jenna?” Harry asked, his lip quivering. “I thought you liked us. I didn’t mean to be a nuisance.”
The excitement of the day had been too much for him, Jenna saw. She crouched down as best she could in her heels and gathered him in for a hug. “Hey, now. Of course I like taking care of you. I love being with you both, you know that.” She gave Sophie a squeeze as well. “I need some grownup time, that’s all. I’ll see you both in the morning before I leave, OK?”
“OK,” Harry sniffed, Sophie adding her own sober nod. Jenna rose to her feet again, and Maureen offered her a grateful smile as she left with the children to meet the babysitter in the lobby.
“Sorry,” John said, abashed. “I didn’t put that right.”
“He’s a bit overtired,” Jenna told him reassuringly. “They both are. It’s been a busy weekend. It was a good idea of yours and Maureen’s to give them this quiet evening.”
“What’s going to happen when this job’s over, d’you reckon?” Sarah asked as the two of them made a stop in the ladies’ toilets before heading to the ballroom for the reception dinner. “Seems like the kids have got awfully attached to you. Harry in particular. Does that concern you?”
“A little,” Jenna admitted. “They’re both sensitive children. Sophie doesn’t wear her heart on her sleeve like Harry does, but it’s tender all the same. And on some level, kids know that a nanny isn’t the same as a mum. That she’s working, and she can leave. Harry and Sophie are lucky, though. They’ve had Nyree with them since they were small. And Finn doesn’t seem to have brought women in and out of their lives. Nobody they’ve been attached to, anyway.”
“Nah,” Sarah agreed. “Don’t think he’s had anyone that serious, not since Nicole died. But that brings me back to it. What about you?”
“I’ll still see them,” Jenna said, surprised at the question. “As long as that’s all right with Finn, and I don’t know why it wouldn’t be. I’m planning on teaching in Auckland in the new year. I hope to be spending some time with them at the weekends. I guess I’d better discuss it with Finn, though.”
“He doesn’t seem keen on losing you himself,” Sarah said.
Jenna shot her a quick glance and picked up her purse to leave. “I hope not. I think the job’s been working out well for both of us.”
“Huh,” was Sarah’s only response.
* * *
“Auntie Hetty’s pissed already.” Finn’s cousin Stewart, the groom’s brother and best man, nodded across the ballroom to where an improbably red-haired woman was shrieking with laughter.
“Hmm?” Finn brought his attention back with a start from Jenna, sitting several tables away with his sister, mum, and dad. And several young men from the bride’s side, all of whom seemed fascinated by her. The reason was plain to see. Sarah had told him she’d taken Jenna shopping for the wedding, and that she’d found her “quite a nice dress.” He’d have been happier with his sister’s choice if he’d been able to join them, instead of being marooned here at the head table. As it was, he was having a hard time keeping his eyes off her. “Pardon?”
“Auntie Hetty,” Stewart repeated patiently. “And Sean isn’t much better. Like mum, like son, eh.”
Finn looked with disgust at his cousin Sean, now weaving his way across the tables towards him, even though dinner was still in progress. “Aw, geez. Going to have this again.”
“Price of success, cuz,” Stewart grinned.
Sean wobbled to a stop in front of Finn. “Enjoying the party, mate?” he sneered. “At the best table as usual, I see. Not down the back with the peasants.”
“Reckon you could’ve been a groomsman yourself,” Finn said levelly. “If Dan’d been able to count on you not getting cut before the evening’s even got well underway.”
“Yeh, right,” Sean scoffed. “Like I’d ever be chosen over the famous Finn Douglas. The Golden Boy. The fucking All Black.”
“Watch your mouth,” Finn said sharply. “You’re at a wedding. And there’re ladies here.”
“Yeh, noticed there’re ladies here,” Sean retorted. “Even your bloody nanny’s special, isn’t she? Blow that for a joke. Why the hell isn’t she upstairs looking after the kids?”
“Jenna’s a guest here tonight,” Finn told him, eyes hard. He stood up, deliberately looming over his smaller cousin, and took a menacing step towards him. “And that’s enough. Rack off.” He stared Sean down until the younger man’s eyes shifted under his own and he turned to leave, still cursing Finn under his breath.
“Wanker,” Finn muttered, sitting down again but keeping a careful eye on Sean as he made his way back to his own table.
“He’s always been rough as guts,” Stewart agreed.
“He’s always been a dickhead,” Finn corrected him.
“That too. Worse than ever these days. You don’t have to see much of him. Lucky you.”
* * *
Finn looked over the maid of honor’s head at Jenna, dancing with yet another of his young cousins. So far, in addition to his current partner, he’d danced with one bridesmaid, the bride’s mother, and the groom’s mother. One more bridesmaid to go, he reckoned, and he’d be free. Unless his mother and sister thought he should ask them. He groaned inwardly. Surely not.
The song ended at last, and he returned Isabel to the table and turned to Zara, about to sit down again herself. “Would you like to dance?” he asked, as politely as he could manage.
His cousin laughed. “Normally, I’d say yes. But I’m not too keen on dancing with someone who’s looking over my shoulder at somebody else the entire time.”
He gave her a rueful grin. “Has it been that obvious?”
“Well … yeh. To me, anyway. You’re off the hook. Go get her.”
“Thanks.” He leaned down and kissed her cheek. “You’re a great girl.”
“Yeh, yeh.” She waved him away. “Someday my prince will come. Bugger off.”
He began to make his way to Jenna, being claimed now by yet another partner, one he didn’t recognize. Another of Ella’s relatives, he guessed. Who was clearly looking down her dress. He started towards them, veered off in another direction as an idea struck him. He made his way around th
e dancers to the corner of the big room, where a DJ sat with his laptop in front of him, monitoring the playlist.
“Mate.” Finn stopped in front of the white-clad table. “Can I ask a bit of a favor?”
The young man looked up, recognition clear in his face. “Reckon you can. What can I do?”
“You must have a fair few slow songs in there,” Finn guessed. “How about playing, say, four of them for me, starting now? The best you have.”
The DJ nodded. “Four songs, guaranteed to pull. I could do that.”
“Don’t shock any grannies,” Finn warned. “But … far as you can go, short of that.”
“Done,” the other man promised. “Best of luck, mate.”
That was Step One sorted. As long as he was the one dancing with Jenna while those songs were playing, instead of that bloke who was perving at her now.
The song ended, but Jenna’s partner showed no sign of releasing her, and the slow notes of a saxophone were coming over the speakers. His song. His dance.
He moved up behind the other man, tapped him on the shoulder. The young man’s protest died on his lips as he turned and looked up into Finn’s face, set into its best Hard Man glare.
“Time for you to find another partner,” Finn told him. “This one’s mine.”
“Right. Sorry.” The man released Jenna without saying goodbye and hastened back to his table.
“Hey!” Jenna protested. “I was dancing with that guy. And he was nice. What was that all about?”
Finn stepped up, took her in his arms. “What I said. My turn now.”
She looked at him suspiciously even as she began to move with him, swaying to the slow, insistent beat. “Did you come over here to tell me I was doing something wrong? I know I’ve been dancing a lot, but everyone’s been so great about asking me, and I’m not working now.”
“Yeh. I’ve noticed how they’ve been asking you. Because you look beautiful.” He couldn’t resist a peek down the front of her dress himself. He wasn’t surprised that fella had been so mesmerized. It was quite a sight from above, the swell of her breasts just visible above the neckline, and that enticing shadow in the middle. A man could put his hand right down that, get lost there.
“Really? You think that’s why?” She sounded so pleased, he couldn’t help but smile. “Your sister helped me pick out this dress. Do you like it?”
“I like it so much,” he assured her. “But it’s not the dress. It’s you in the dress. You’re gorgeous.”
“We’re getting inappropriate again,” she warned him. “Do you think this is a good idea? Dancing?”
“I’m past caring,” he admitted. “I’m beginning to think it’s inevitable. Feels like a freight train coming down the track. And like I’m standing in front of it, just waiting to be hit. Maybe, just for tonight, we could forget about everything else. About the kids, and all the complications of it. Pretend we’ve just met.”
“Dangerous,” she cautioned, looking up at him.
“Like I said. That freight train. My name’s Finn Douglas, and I’ve been watching you all night. Because you’re beautiful.”
Those full pink lips stretched into her generous smile, and he felt his heart rate kick up a notch. “Jenna McKnight. I’m glad to meet you. Because you’re quite something yourself.”
He felt her move a little further into his arms as the music shifted to a smooth, romantic Michael Bublé song. Her hand felt right in his, her body warm as he pulled her against him, moved her around the floor. He sensed the moment when she melted against him, her head coming to rest against his chest, felt her snuggle in closer, run her hand over his shoulder.
Norah Jones over the speakers next, her smoky voice crooning as the two of them danced, barely swaying together now.
“I like this music,” Jenna sighed against him, and Finn smiled a bit above her head. As the song ended, he let go of her hand, raised his own to stroke her cheek. He heard the opening strains of Unchained Melody, but he wasn’t waiting for the fourth song. He didn’t think he could. But he couldn’t kiss her here, either. And he needed to kiss her, so badly now.
“Come on,” he urged. “Let’s take a walk.” He took her hand and moved to the door, then into the wide passage.
Jenna went with him willingly. This wasn’t a good idea, but she didn’t care anymore. She hadn’t drunk enough tonight to blame it on the wine. It was Finn. She’d been thinking about touching him again ever since that night in the hotel. Thinking about the way he had touched her, how he had kissed her. She needed him to kiss her like that again.
He was trying doors now, moving faster. “Finn,” she protested as she stumbled, her heels sinking into the carpet. “Slow down. Please.”
He looked down at her in surprise.
“High heels,” she explained. “I can’t walk this fast.”
He exhaled in relief. “Thought you were saying something else.” He tried the next door, and the handle shifted. He looked inside, shot a quick glance at the passage behind them and pulled her through the doorway.
“Where are we?” she asked.
He reached for her, the darkness complete around them. “Storeroom,” he got out. Then his mouth was on hers, his arms around her.
She felt him walking her backwards, up against the door they had come in. His mouth was insistent now, greedy and feverish on hers, his hands pulling her to him. She felt the length of him hard against her, and a thrill shot all the way through her body.
One hand continued to hold her to him while the other moved to a breast. “Aw, Jenna,” he groaned into her mouth. “I’ve wanted to touch you here all night.”
She felt his mouth on her neck, his lips and teeth moving against her skin, and shivered with it. Then jumped at the shock as his hand slipped inside the neckline of her dress, cupped her warm flesh, held her there. She moaned as his palm moved over her, as she felt the sensation going straight to her center.
His big body pressed her back against the door, and he shifted the other hand from behind her, lifted the edge of her skirt to grip a thigh. She felt his hand moving upward, the size and heat of it. She was kissing him back hard now, clutching at his shoulders, lost in his hands, his mouth on her. Then a new sensation, the shock as the hand on her leg found bare skin. And stopped there.
He broke the kiss, kept his hold on her, his thumb above the lace top of the stocking, warm against her inner thigh. She could hear his labored breathing, and her own, in the darkness.
“Jenna.” His voice was strained. “Are you wearing stockings?”
She felt herself blushing. “Yes.”
He groaned. “I need to see you. And we can’t do this here. But I’m in a room with the kids.”
“And I’m in one with your sister,” she reminded him.
“Right. Getting a room. Wait here for me.” He pulled his hands away reluctantly, then leaned against the wall next to her. “Give me a moment.”
“Are you all right?” she asked tentatively.
He laughed a little. “Burning up for you. Only so much a dinner jacket can conceal. Saying my twelve times tables here.”
“Right,” he said after a minute. He lifted her gently away from the door. “Stay here. Back in a few minutes.” He bent to kiss her again, lingered there as her mouth opened under his, broke it off at last. “Wait for me.”
Alone in the dark, Jenna wrapped her arms around herself, reality slowly returning like a cold spigot running into a warm bathtub. What was she doing? This was a really, really bad idea. Never mind the future. Tonight was frightening enough.
She had worked herself into full anxiety by the time Finn gave a quiet knock and slipped through the door again.
“Jenna?” he called softly. “Still in here?”
“Yes,” she said tentatively, moved towards him in the darkness. “But … are you sure?”
He reached for her, pulled her into him. “I’m so sure. I need to do this. But if you don’t … you can say no. Praying you won’t, th
ough.” He found her mouth, kissed her again. “What do you think?”
“I want to,” she said honestly. “But … what I told you. I’m not good at this. What if you’re disappointed?”
“Do you want me?” he demanded.
“Yes,” she admitted. “So much.”
He exhaled in relief. “Then here’s what we’re going to do. I’m going to take you upstairs. I’m going to get you naked, and then I’m going to put you on your back and do some things to you that I’ve been thinking about for a long, long time. Trust me, I’m not going to be disappointed. I’m going to be feeling like the luckiest man in the world.”
Stockings
Finn opened the door with the keycard, allowed Jenna to precede him into the room. He’d kept his hands off her during the walk to the lift, the ride up with a family whose young son had been awestruck at the bit of chat he’d offered. But now he had her here, and he was done. He bent down to pull off his shoes and socks, saw her beginning to kick off her own high heels.
“No,” he said sharply. “No,” he added more gently. “Please. Leave them on for me.”
He saw her uncertainty. “Jenna. Come here.” He folded her in his arms, gave her a long, slow kiss. “I’m going to tell you what to do,” he said when he had her warm and soft again, melting against him. “And I’m going to find out what you like. It’s all good. No worries.”
“You’ll tell me?” she asked, looking up at him. “Because I want to please you.”
He took his arms from around her to pull off his dinner jacket and throw it across a chair. “You please me so much. Just looking at you is pleasing me. But if you want to help, why don’t you unfasten this tie?”
Christmas Down Under: Six Sexy New Zealand & Australian Christmas Romances Page 68
