The Seduction of Jason

by Fayrene Preston

  “Your promises mean absolutely zero to me. Nothing you try is going to work, Morgan, so you might as well save yourself a lot of grief and embarrassment. But don’t be too upset. There are bound to be a lot of men who’ll succumb to the fatality of your practiced feminine wiles.”

  “You have no idea what you’re talking about, Jason, and frankly neither do I.”

  “Let me put it this way” —the corners of his mouth lifted sardonically— “second-hand goods have never interested me very much.”

  Morgan was stunned. “That’s not fair, Jason! I haven’t done anything to deserve that.”

  “Haven’t you?”

  “Absolutely not. I told you about Clinton Monroe in the gentleness and sweetness of our first moments together. If you’ll take a moment to look back and to remember how you first felt about me, maybe you’ll come to understand how wrong you are, or at the very least begin to have a few doubts.” Jason didn’t answer her.

  Moving restively over to the window, Morgan looked down on the busy street in front of his building.

  She had a terrible feeling that her chances of winning Jason back were dwindling rapidly. With every tick of the clock, she ran the risk of him forgetting more and more of their holiday together— of him placing another layer of stone over his heart in his defense against her—until the time would come when he would be completely immune to her.

  And there was something else, too. Every time she inflamed his senses, bringing him to the point of fevered passion, she also brought herself to the same heated level of sexual excitement. She was doing it to both of them. Morgan didn’t know about Jason, but she really wasn’t sure how much more of it she could take. He might seek solace with another woman, but Morgan knew she would never again turn to another man in desire.

  She had to try one more time. There must be a way… Gazing at a series of billboards that sat directly across from his office, Morgan was struck suddenly by what she considered to be an inspired idea. She turned back to see that Jason was once more sitting behind his desk. Retreated, had he?

  She thrust her hands in the pockets of her skirt and strolled casually toward him, noticing as she did how Jason’s eyes were drawn to the taut charcoal-colored cloth that stretched across the flat of her stomach.

  “I just happened to notice that there’s an empty billboard across the street that some company is advertising for rent.”

  “So?”

  “So … if you don’t take me to that party, I am going to rent that space and inform everyone that Jason Falco is not only afraid to be alone with Morgan Saunders, but that he’s a coward and a fool not to admit that he loves her.”

  “Nice bluff, Morgan, but you won’t do it,” Jason said confidently. “You see, it would not only embarrass me, but it would embarrass you as well, and I don’t think even you are willing to go quite that far. Now,” —he reached for his pen and pulled some papers toward him— “if you’re quite through, I would like for you to leave.”

  Morgan picked up her coat and strolled toward the door. When she reached it, however, she turned back to him with a smile. “It’s a shame you didn’t get to know me better while we were in Martinique, Jason. Goodbye for now. I’ll see you in a few days.”

  #

  Morgan could never remember being this nervous before. It was three days later, and she was in her shop, making an effort to do business as usual. She had a sinking feeling that it was no use though, because she had already rung up three sales wrong this morning. Twice she had overpriced a wicker item, and once she had practically given away a very expensive mirror bordered with an elaborate montage of seashells.

  She couldn’t keep her mind on her work. The billboard should be up by now. Had Jason seen it yet? What if he never looked out his window? “Calm down,” she counseled herself. “Even if he doesn’t look out the window, he’ll be able to see it as he drives to work.

  “Oh, no! What if he’s out-of-town?” Morgan glanced toward the phone. Maybe she should give his secretary a call and find out. The woman was always a veritable fount of information.

  Looking at her watch, Morgan saw that it was nine-fifteen. The man to whom she had spoken had said his men would start putting up the sign about seven. “I’ll give Jason thirty more minutes.” And Lord, help her! She had to conquer this awful tendency she had developed to talk to herself.

  The door bell tinkled, indicating that someone had just entered. Putting on her most professional smile, she turned. “Can I help you?”

  “Yes!” Jason bellowed, as he switched the “Open” sign in the window to “Closed” and locked the door. “You can have that damned billboard taken down at once.”

  Morgan eyed him warily. Even through his obvious anger, she could detect a certain hunted quality about him. Hopefully, that was a good sign.

  “I told you I’d have it put up, Jason. You should have believed me—and not only about having that ad put up. I always tell the truth.”

  “Morgan” —he advanced menacingly toward her and put his hands around her throat, squeezing slightly—” I could kill you now and there’s not a jury in the country that would convict me.”

  “You won’t do it,” she gasped softly, “because you love me. A person can’t destroy someone he loves.”

  She felt his fingers tighten for a fraction of a second before he pushed her away. “You’re right. I won’t do it, but not for the reason you said. I need you alive to get on the phone and get that sign taken down.”

  “Sure,” she agreed, rubbing her throat, “I’ll be glad to … for a price. All you have to do is take me to that party.”

  He looked at her with eyes that resembled black marble. “Lord, Morgan, you really are a bitch!”

  “Will you do it?”

  “I guess I have to, if I don’t want to be the laughing stock of the city. But” —he flashed a cruel smile— “you’re going to have to remember your part of the bargain and live up to it.”

  “My part?”

  “You said that if I spent the evening with you and still felt nothing for you by the end of the night, you’d leave me alone.”

  Despite the sadness that threatened to choke her, Morgan lifted her chin. “That’s what I said and I won’t go back on my word.”

  “That remains to be seen,” Jason said heavily. “What time do I have to pick you up?”

  “The party starts at eight. If you pick me up at seven forty-five, that should give us plenty of time.”

  He started out the door, but turned back. “That billboard had better be down within the hour or our deal is off.”

  Morgan smiled sweetly. “Why of course, Jason.”

  #

  Morgan looked at herself one more time in the mirror, just to make certain. No, the dress only seemed diaphanous, but it wasn’t. Rather it was the way the dress flowed liquidly around her that gave the impression that it could be seen through.

  The dress was blue chiffon laid over green silk, and sliding over her body, it resembled the moving waters of the Carribean. Slightly above the knee in length, the frock had a low, strapless bodice. Morgan critically viewed herself, experimented with drawing deep breaths. Perfect! Although the dress had a daring neckline, she would be quite safe.

  Having been ready for what seemed like hours, Morgan picked up her coat and purse and paced into the living room to wait. She calculated that Jason should be arriving at any moment.

  A loud knock on the door brought her pre-date jitters to an end. Deliberately dawdling, she stalled as long as she dared before acting. Then, adopting her best flustered and harried look, she hurried to the door and opened it… but only far enough to allow her to stick her head around it. “Jason! Are you early?”

  He looked at his watch, elegantly handsome in his dark evening wear despite the scowl that marred his face. “I’m right on time as a matter of fact.”

  “But I’m not ready!” she wailed. “I’ve got at least a hundred things to do yet.”

  “Morgan,�
�� Jason growled warningly. “I’m escorting you to this party only under protest. Therefore, I’m in no mood to stand around waiting while you mess with your hair, or powder your nose, or whatever it is that women usually do to keep men waiting for hours at a time. You look fine, so just get your coat and let’s go. I want this evening over with as soon as possible.”

  “Are you sure we can’t spare just five minutes so that I can—”

  “Morgan!”

  She meekly complied. “Whatever you say, Jason.”

  Morgan waited until they were about halfway across town before she began to act fidgety. It was nothing too obvious at first, just a few adjustments to the way she was sitting, but it was enough to pull Jason out of his brooding silence. She could tell by the way he tensed that she had drawn his attention back to her.

  Waiting until she could tell that he had once again started to retreat behind his abstracted thoughts, Morgan began to squirm uncomfortably. Jason didn’t comment. He just threw her one of those annoyed looks that she was coming to know so well.

  The closer they got to the hall where the party was being held, the antsier Morgan behaved, until Jason finally barked, “What in the hell is wrong with you tonight?”

  Morgan gave a big sigh and did a creditable job of looking injured. “Well, I tried to tell you, Jason. It’s your fault, after all, for making me rush like you did.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  She explained in a timid little girl’s voice, “Well… I didn’t exactly have time to finish dressing.”

  “Just what are you trying to say?” Jason glanced at her suspiciously. “You do have a dress on underneath that coat, don’t you?”

  “Of course, I do. Goodness, Jason! Do you honestly think I’d go out without a dress on?”

  “What’s the problem, then?” His patience was wearing noticeably thin.

  “Actually, it’s nothing really very serious. It’s just that you insisted we leave in such a hurry, I think I forgot to put on any underwear. You know how it is. You can’t wear just anything under your clothes these days, because the lines might show through. Anyway, I was trying on different things, and, uh, I …”

  Jason exploded. “You mean you don’t have anything on under your dress?”

  “I don’t think so,” she answered pleasantly. “No bra, no panties, not even a pair of hose,” she went on to add, in case he had missed the full significance of the matter.

  He hadn’t. His hands tightened on the steering wheel and his jaw clenched violently. “We’ll have to go back then.”

  “No! That is, we can’t! Oh, please, Jason. Tonight is really important for me, and I’m afraid we’re going to be late as it is. These people get extremely upset if everyone isn’t there and in their proper place so that the banquet can start on time.”

  “I don’t see anything else we can do.”

  Poor man—Morgan took a moment to sympathize silently with him—he actually sounded rather helpless. However, it was a very brief moment of sympathy, and she felt no guilt whatsoever as she hastened to reassure him.

  “No, really. It will be all right. You’ll see. My legs are still so tanned from our holiday, that it will look as if I have hose on, and my dress is two layers thick. No one will even notice.” Except you, she murmured to herself, comfortably wiggling her bottom into the plushness of the car’s seat.

  Chapter Nine

  The banquet had indeed started, but contrary to what Morgan had told Jason, there had been no reason to worry about arriving late. The Small Businessmen’s Association contained a membership of relaxed and confident men and women, who always showed great tolerance and flexibility toward each other and life in general. Theirs was a group for mutual benefit, nothing more, nothing less.

  In the foyer, Jason checked their coats after an eagle-eyed scrutiny of the dress that Morgan wore. Morgan wasn’t worried. She knew he wouldn’t get the full effect of the dress until she started to move.

  A waiter showed them to their reserved places. And when Morgan saw where they would be sitting, she didn’t know whether to laugh or to cry. Dirk Concannon was sitting directly across the table from them.

  “Morgan! Great to see you.”

  Dirk owned a small chain of exercise facilities and fancied himself something of a ladies’ man, taking full advantage of the scantily clad women that surrounded him day in and day out. Morgan had gone to his spa once and, after Dirk had managed to corner her in the sauna, had vowed never to go back. Nonetheless, they were on several of the same committees, and she had to be polite to him in public.

  Feeling safe with Jason by her side, Morgan bestowed a warmer than usual smile on him and settled into her chair. “Dirk, I’d like you to meet my date for this evening, Jason Falco. Jason, this is Dirk Concannon—” Her mind went blank. How should she introduce him? In the end, she decided she could afford to be nice. “—a friend.”

  Dirk blinked at Morgan’s introduction. Even though it was true they had known each other a long time, the word “friend” was stretching the point quite a bit and they both knew it.

  Jason nodded curtly, but didn’t bother to respond. He had seen Dirk’s reaction to the seductive way in which Morgan’s dress flowed over her body, and his face was becoming grimmer by the minute. Sensing this, Morgan decided that for once it looked as if things might finally go her way, and she couldn’t have been happier about the situation.

  All through dinner, Morgan enjoyed both men’s complete attention, although she did nothing wrong, taking extreme care to impartially direct her conversation to both of them. Dirk was obviously flattered by her attention, and he began flirting with her. On the other hand, every time she turned to Jason, she found his eyes riveted to the low neckline of her dress, where the tops of her round, creamy breasts gleamed alluringly.

  She had made certain they did.

  Whenever she was sure that Dirk’s attention was elsewhere, Morgan used Jason’s single-minded concentration on her to incite him by bending forward to take a bite of her dinner, or by leaning toward him to speak a few words. From her practice sessions, Morgan knew exactly how far she could go in her movements wearing this very decollete dress. She carried propriety to the very outer limits, toying dangerously with disaster, and, in the process, enjoyed herself immensely.

  At one point, when Dirk was talking with the person sitting beside him, Morgan turned toward Jason, licking some of the vanilla ice cream dessert from around her mouth with her tongue. “Jason, this is a delicious dessert. Why aren’t you eating any?”

  “I’m not hungry,” he snapped, watching with manifest fascination the way the fullness of her breasts moved every time her arm did.

  Morgan’s tongue darted out, taking one last lick of the sweet concoction off her spoon before she put it down. “There’ll be a few short speeches in a moment, but don’t worry, they won’t last long, and they’re never dull. I think you’ll enjoy them.” Jason was sitting on her left, and she casually hooked her left arm over the back of her chair so that the top half of her body was twisted toward him. “Then there’ll be dancing. They usually have a top rate orchestra here.”

  Morgan absently ran a finger inside the top edge of her dress as she spoke—imitating to perfection the intimate gesture that Jason had used on her so many times when they’d been in Martinique—and had the satisfaction of seeing a few beads of sweat break out on his forehead. “I can’t wait to get on the dance floor. It’s been quite a while … well, let me think” —her forehead furrowed in concentration—“I guess the last time I danced was with you on the plantation terrace.”

  “Where’s the bar?”

  “Unless, of course, you want to count the time we danced at Paddy’s and Company.”

  “Morgan, where’s the bar?”

  “The bar? They won’t set it up until after everyone has finished eating and the speeches are over. Where was I? Ummmm … oh yes, I’m really looking forward to dancing with you again.” Morgan leaned toward h
im and confided, “I thought we did it so well together.”

  “I won’t be dancing tonight.”

  “Don’t be a party pooper! Come on,” she cajoled. “Just for old times’ sake?”

  The look Jason threw her would have shriveled any right-thinking person, but Morgan was well and truly into her act. “No? Okay, well, maybe you’ll change your mind later on.”

  Unfortunately for her, Dirk had finished with his conversation and had overheard the last part of theirs. “Hey, your problems are over. I’ll be more than happy to dance with you!”

  Morgan looked at Jason for help, hoping that he would tell Dirk that he would be dancing with her, but only a mask of cold indifference met her eyes.

  Morgan’s shoulders drooped with discouragement as she watched the first speaker approach the podium. She had predicted correctly. The speeches finished quickly, and the party took on new life as the less formal part of the evening began.

  Jason rose and politely held Morgan’s chair for her. Standing up very fast, Morgan managed to lose her balance. Perfectly. And she fell against Jason’s chest. Instinctively, his hands came out to catch her, and she let her full weight rest against him.

  Looking up at him, she saw that his eyes had gone dark and that the golden flecks in them were casting out a burning light, covering her with an all-encompassing illumination that made her feel weak. Jason’s gaze lowered over the smooth expanse of her throat to her half-bare heaving chest. His swiftly indrawn breath made Morgan look down. Evidently, the force of her fall against him had moved the material of the dress’s bodice a fraction, allowing a tantalizing glimpse from above.

  “I’m going to the bar,” Jason grated hoarsely. “Are you coming?”

  “I-in a minute.”

  “Fine.” He pushed her away and the material of her dress slipped obediently back into place.