Jenny wasn’t sure how to answer that. If he’d noticed, he’d done a darn good job of hiding it.
“You think I didn’t notice?” he repeated, louder this time, crowding her.
Was the car getting smaller?
“You didn’t say anything,” she pointed out, fighting the urge to shrink back against the door.
“What, exactly, was it that you wanted me to say?” He leaned closer still, and a few beats of silence ticked past. “That your eyes look like emeralds without your glasses? That you have unbelievably sexy legs? That you should show off more often, by the way.”
The front of his shoulder brushed the tip of hers, and Jenny swallowed against the electric sensation that passed between them.
His voice went lower. “That those shoes were designed to keep a man awake at night? That I’ve been watching the wisp of your hair, curling over your temple and resisting the urge to smooth it back all night long?”
Jenny couldn’t move. She couldn’t breathe. Her chest was frozen in place, while her pulse tripped over itself.
His fingertips fluttered against her temple, touching her hair. “Or that your red lips look soft, smooth, delicious?” His hand eased around to the back of her head, fingers splaying into her hair, as he drew her forward, his mouth coming down on hers in slow motion.
What was happening? What was going—
And then he was kissing her.
He was kissing her.
Sparks flew out from every corner of her body. Her skin prickled hot in the sultry car. Her belly buzzed and her thighs twitched, and her body leaned subconsciously toward him.
He parted his lips, deepening the kiss. His free arm slid around her waist, pulling her tight to his chest, while his tongue tested the seam of her lips.
She opened for him, and he invaded, spreading new waves of desire throughout her body. She whimpered, grasping his broad shoulders through his jacket for support while her world tipped on its axis.
He finally broke the kiss, touching his forehead gently against hers. “I noticed,” he breathed.
With her brain struggling to grasp the enormity of what had just happened, “Oh,” was all she managed.
He let her go, leaning back in his seat, closing his eyes for a long moment. “Sorry about that.”
“It’s, uh…” She straightened her dress again, sitting back in her own seat. “Fine,” she ended.
It was more than fine. It had been amazing.
He’d noticed. He’d noticed. And he’d kissed her.
Wow, had he ever kissed her. She’d never been kissed like that in her life.
Mitch let off the emergency brake and put the Corvette in gear.
He pulled onto the gravel road and continued toward Jenny’s small house beside Frost Lake.
She hadn’t the first idea of what to say or do.
Mitch pulled his Corvette into Jenny’s short driveway, his brain a jumble of lust and recrimination as he automatically turned off the headlights and killed the engine. He pushed open his door and rounded the hood to open hers.
In the ten minutes since he’d kissed her, neither of them had said a word. But inside his head, he’d given himself about a dozen stern lectures. What the hell did he think he was doing? Jenny was a nice girl, a great girl, a wonderful girl, and she worked for him.
She wasn’t one of the sophisticated women he met at parties in New York and L.A., who wanted nothing more than a famous football player as a companion for the evening or the night. She was honest, uncomplicated, and he was a cad for giving in to his baser instincts.
He pulled open her door, forcing himself to concentrate on the treetops, the full moon hanging on the horizon and the darkened outline of her little house—anything, anything but looking at Jenny again.
He knew he should get the heck out of here without delay, but her porch light was out, and the gentleman in him wouldn’t send her up the uneven pathway and the dark stairs on her own. He offered his arm, ignoring her light touch, looking straight ahead as they made their way along the stepping stones in her front garden.
They walked up the stairs and across the porch, then she stopped and turned toward him.
“I’m—” she began, and he made the mistake of meeting her gaze.
Her eyes were opaque jade in the faint moonlight, her lips red and swollen from his kiss. Her hair was disheveled, her cleavage highlighted by the sexy dress and those legs went on forever, ending in those fantasy shoes that somehow hijacked his primal brain. He groaned in instant surrender and swooped in for another kiss.
She tipped her head to accommodate him, soft lips parting, tongue answering his own, even as her slim arms wound around his neck. He wrapped his own arms around her narrow waist and pulled her against him once more, those luscious breasts flush to his chest. Her mouth was hot on his, her thighs taut, the feel of them hardening his body beyond imagination. He stroked a hand over her messy hair, releasing the clip that held it back, so that it tumbled free.
He kissed her temple, her ear, her neck, making his way along her bare shoulder.
“Mitch,” she gasped, her breath hot puffs against his chest.
He drew back, looking into her soft green eyes. Her cheeks were flushed, her lips parted, and her shiny strawberry blond hair framed her face like a halo.
Walk away, he ordered himself. Walk the hell away.
But she pressed a key into his palm.
On automatic pilot, he unlatched the door, pushing it wide. He scooped her into his arms and carried her inside, slamming the door firmly behind them and making his way straight down the back hallway to her bedroom.
There, he lowered her gently to her feet.
“Jenny,” he breathed, reminding himself of who this was, trying one more time to convince himself to do the right thing.
But she came up on her toes and kissed him passionately, and he’d spent far too many years being self-indulgent to summon self-discipline now. His hand moved reflexively to her breast, grasping the soft mound beneath the silky dress. She parted his suit jacket, her small hands sliding around his back, their heat searing through the thin cotton of his shirt.
He shrugged out of the jacket, and it fell to the floor. One of his thighs pressed between hers, easing her dress out of the way. She gasped, as the fabric of his slacks obviously hit home. Her hands fumbled with his tie, and he gave into temptation, slipping the single shoulder of the dress down her arm.
Their movements grew faster, more frantic.
She popped the buttons of his shirt, while he found the zipper at the back of her dress. In seconds, they were chest to chest, skin to skin, and he pressed long, deep, fiery kisses on her mouth.
Her dress slipped to the floor. Her scant panties combined with those shoes nearly sent him over the edge. He stripped off the remainder of his clothes and eased her down on the big bed, into the neatly pressed quilt and the plump, perfect pillows.
She was all motion beneath him, heat, softness, kisses and breathy cries. Her fingernails dug into his back, while he kissed her lips, her neck, her breasts, kneading his hands along her thighs, up and around. Impatiently, he tore off her panties. She gasped, then moaned and arched against his fingers.
He kissed her hard and deep, strumming her nipples. Her hands roamed his body. He shifted over her, and her legs wrapped around him, her hips arched against his weight in an invitation he couldn’t ignore.
He grabbed for his slacks, quickly retrieving a condom before instinct obliterated reason. He thrust into her exquisite heat, his primal brain telling him to make it last and last and last. Pillows flew to the floor. The bed rocked on its brass foundation, while the stars through her bedroom window melted and slid from the sky.
She cried his name just as his own passion crested. His breathing went hoarse, and long minutes throbbed past before sanity returned. Exhausted, he rolled to his side, taking him with her, pulling her deep into his arms.
Once again, words eluded him. He had absolutely no id
ea what to say to her. He wasn’t sorry. He didn’t regret it. But, oh boy, had he ever made a big mistake.
Instead of speaking, he cradled her against his body, held her close until she was safely asleep. Then he held her an hour longer. He knew he’d be facing the stupidity of his actions full-on in the morning, but he was in no hurry to get there.
It wasn’t until the moon was high in the sky, and Mitch knew he was in real danger of falling asleep right there next to Jenny, that he eased her from his arms and tucked the covers around her. He risked a gentle kiss at her hairline, before slipping into his clothes and leaving her sleeping.
Jenny wasn’t surprised to wake up alone in the morning. Since the wedding had taken place on the holiday Monday, her alarm went off as usual for the workday on Tuesday. She had a few unfamiliar aches and pains in the shower, but she didn’t mind. Mitch had noticed her. Boy, had he noticed her.
She was a little embarrassed about tumbling into bed with him so quickly. But it wasn’t as though they were strangers. They were both adults, and he’d spent years living in big cities and moving in sophisticated social circles. She knew it was an entirely different dating world out there.
She dressed neatly and professionally for the office, her glasses back in place, and took a cab to the TCC. She’d call the auto club and get a boost sometime during the morning.
As usual, she arrived before Mitch. She put on the coffee in their three-room, second-floor office area, booted up her computer, checked both her and Mitch’s voice mail boxes for weekend messages and pulled her pending files out of the locked cabinet, sorting the issues in priority order on her desktop.
She was halfway through her new emails, when the door opened. She felt an excited hitch in her stomach and looked up to see Mitch walk into the office. A reflexive smile formed on her face. Should she stand? Would he hug her this morning? Kiss her? Or would they leave that kind of behavior outside the office?
He clicked the door shut. And when he turned back, she was surprised to see him scowling. Her smile drooped.
“Good morning,” she offered, studying his expression. Was something wrong? Was there a problem she hadn’t heard about? The rivalry over the upcoming club presidency election was well known. Had something more happened between Abigail and Brad?
Crisply dressed in his usual business suit, he set his jaw, squared his shoulders and crossed toward her.
She stood. “Mitch?”
“I owe you an apology,” he began without preamble, his focus settling somewhere beyond her left ear.
“You don’t—”
“My behavior last night was completely unforgivable.”
What did he mean? That he hadn’t danced with her, complimented her at the reception or that he’d left in the middle of the night without a word? Whichever it was, he was already forgiven.
“I took advantage of you, and I am profoundly sorry.”
Now she was completely confused. Was he talking about their lovemaking? Because she had been as willing and eager as him.
“I stepped way out of line,” Mitch continued, still not looking her in the eye. “You deserve better than that. You deserve better than me.”
Wait a minute. She didn’t want better than Mitch. She wanted Mitch.
He finally flicked a glance directly at her. “I hope you’ll still be comfortable working here. I’ll do everything in my power to make sure our professional relationship is not impacted.” His dark eyes softened slightly. “Can you forgive me, Jenny? Can we possibly forget it ever happened?”
A lead weight pressed down on Jenny’s chest, and her knees nearly buckled from lack of breath. Forget it ever happened? He wanted to forget he’d made love with her? Go on as if everything was normal, as if she was…was…some kind of one-night stand?
Reality washed over her like ice water.
She was a one-night stand.
Mitch had thought she was pretty, sexy, desirable and available last night, period. The sophisticated dress, heavy makeup and fancy hairdo hadn’t given him romantic thoughts. They had given him lustful thoughts.
A clipped laugh of embarrassment slipped out, and she quickly covered her lips with her fingers.
What a fool she’d been.
His gaze narrowed. “Jenny?”
She scrambled to gather her emotions. This was one of those moments. She’d been stupid. She’d made a complete fool of herself. In the aftermath, she could pull it together and pretend she was as sophisticated and aloof as him, or she could break down altogether, and he’d remember forever that she behaved like a gauche teenager the morning after.
She wouldn’t let that happen. She was tough. She was controlled. She could do this.
“No problem,” she managed to assure him with a dismissive wave of her hand, sitting down and turning back to her computer. “Business as usual. I get it. We slipped up. Hey, it happens.”
“Are you sure—”
“I’m fine,” she said with forced brightness. “If you don’t mind, I’d really like to get through these emails before coffee. The auto club will be here—” She stopped right there. No point in bringing up any reminders of their one-night fling. It was over and done, and she wasn’t going to think about it ever again.
The desk phone rang, and she scooped it up, turning her back completely on Mitch. “Texas Cattleman’s Club.”
“What happened?” It was Emily’s voice.
A flush prickled Jenny’s scalp. “Can I call you back?”
“Is he there?”
“Yes.”
“Roger. Got it. Call me back as soon as you can, okay?”
“I will.” Just as soon as she went to the bathroom and threw up.
She hung up the phone and stared at her computer, the characters blurring in front of her eyes.
He was still standing behind her.
She could feel his heat and hear his breathing.
She schooled her features and turned. “Is there anything else?”
He looked lost, and a little confused—an unheard of state for Mitch Hayward. “I really am sorry.”
Jenny gathered every bit of dignity she could muster. “So you said.”
“Maybe we could—”
“I don’t think talking about it is going to help.”
He paused for a moment. “Right. I guess not.”
“Like you said.” She turned and punched a couple of random computer keys. “We’ll simply forget it ever happened. Carry on as usual.” And she was absolutely, positively going to date other men. This silly fantasy of hers had gone on far too long. She was nearly thirty. Mitch was nowhere in her future, and she was ready to fully accept that reality.
When Jenny finally left the office at the end of the workday, Emily was there in the parking lot, leaning up against Jenny’s car, looking very impatient. Jenny’s steps faltered, but she knew she couldn’t avoid Emily forever.
“You didn’t call me back,” Emily accused, straightening away from the door panel.
“You sabotaged my car,” Jenny pointed out. The auto club guy had boosted it midmorning, and the battery was back in shape now.
“For a good cause.” Emily peered at Jenny’s expression. “Seriously. What on earth happened last night?”
“My life’s not going to change, that’s for sure.” Jenny focused on unlocking the car door.
“Did he insult you? Ignore you? What?”
Though she’d like nothing better than to take Mitch’s advice and forget last night ever happened, Jenny knew she couldn’t keep a secret like that from her best friend. It was too big, too devastating. It would eat her alive if she didn’t share it. Though it might eat her alive even if she did.
“Get in,” she told Emily, hitting the unlock button for the passenger side.
Emily quickly rounded the car and hopped in, pulling her seat belt into place. “Spill.”
Jenny cranked the engine, putting the car into Reverse, swinging around to head for the parking lot exit. She needed
to get clear of the TCC building and the feeling of having Mitch close by before she spoke.
She followed the curve of the road and put her mouth on automatic pilot, struggling to stay detached from the words she was uttering. She tried to pretend she was talking about someone else, some poor, hapless woman who’d let her emotions rule her logic and who got exactly what she’d deserved.
“At first,” she told Emily, “it seemed like he didn’t notice me at all. Nothing was different. Except he didn’t ask me to dance. He always asks me to dance. As if he has to. Like it’s his duty. Since I’m technically his ‘date.’”
“Jen? You’re babbling.”
“Right.” Jenny’s moist hands slipped on the warm steering wheel. “He didn’t ask me to dance.”
“I got that.”
“I got ticked off and left. I mean, the hair, the dress, the makeup, the shoes. Do you blame me for being upset? Don’t you think any normal, red-blooded guy would have asked me to dance?”
“I don’t blame you for getting ticked off. And, for what it’s worth, I thought you looked hot.”
“Thank you. I agree. I felt like a fool. But I looked hot.”
Emily smirked and snorted out a laugh.
“So, I leave the reception. I head for my car.”
“Which I’d incapacitated.”
Jenny nodded her acknowledgment. “Which you’d incapacitated. Thank you very much, by the way.”
“Did it work?”
“Like a charm.”
“I knew it would.”
“He drove me home.”
“I knew he would.”
“And I slept with him.”
“I knew—” Emily twisted in her seat. “Wait a minute. What?”
“I slept with Mitch.” Jenny was really quite proud of how detached she sounded as she went into the sordid details. “I tore off my clothes. Or maybe I tore off his clothes, I can’t quite remember the details. In any event, we were both naked.”
Emily’s voice rose to a squeal. “You slept with Mitch Hayward?”
Jenny glanced at her friend’s incredulous expression. “Am I not saying this right?”
An After-Hours Affair Page 3
