Seduction on His Terms

by Sarah M. Anderson

  Jeannie had bought the dress for a date some years ago and then repurposed it with a shawl to attend Easter services with Nicole, who’d been a church regular. It’d been part of their reconciliation.

  It was the fanciest dress Jeannie owned. Hopefully, paired with the shawl and her platform brown sandals, it would be nice enough for a private meal with Robert. He always cut such a dashing figure in his custom three-piece suits and gemstone cuff links and she had...a cotton sundress she’d gotten on clearance four years ago.

  But what else did one wear to a private meal with the billionaire bachelor next door? Cutoffs seemed like the wrong answer.

  This was ridiculous.

  She couldn’t go to lunch with him. She shouldn’t be alone with him. If she was smart, she’d change into her jean shorts, curl up on the couch and let Maja boss her around in a highly educational way.

  “Yes, yes,” Maja said again, patting Melissa’s back. “You look lovely. Very sweet. Rona, doesn’t she look lovely?”

  “Oh, yes,” the tiny Filipino woman called from the kitchen, where the smells of something delicious wafted throughout the house. “Very pretty.”

  Upon arrival, Rona had promptly taken over everything Maja hadn’t. Dishes had been washed, laundry laundered, the bathroom was already immaculate and who could forget the cooking? It was a little bit like living in a hotel.

  Jeannie had no idea who would appear next but she had a feeling Robert wasn’t done hiring a staff of potentially dozens to take care of her. She was going to draw the line at a butler, though.

  The baby let out a tiny little belch—without crying. Seriously, Maja was magic. Jeannie didn’t know how much Robert was paying her, but it was worth it.

  “Caregivers need breaks,” Maja went on, shifting from side to side. Jeannie was sure the older woman didn’t even know she was doing it. Would Jeannie ever get that level of comfort handling Melissa? “The babisui and I will be fine together—she will sleep, I will help Rona and you will enjoy a break with your handsome doctor.”

  Jeannie’s cheeks heated so she quickly turned back to her room to rifle through her meager jewelry collection. “He’s not my doctor.” No disputing the handsome part, though.

  “Mmm,” Maja replied. Or maybe she was just talking to the baby.

  Trenton’s didn’t let employees wear more than simple stud earrings, and most of Jeannie’s jewelry was like her sundress—cheaply made, purchased on clearance and several years old. And most of it felt...juvenile. From a period of her life that had passed.

  She wasn’t the same girl who could ironically wear neon-pink plastic hoops, not anymore. She was something very like a mother now. Besides, the neon hoops definitely didn’t match this dress. So in the end, she went with her basic fake diamond studs that she wore at the bar every night.

  “He’s not my doctor,” Jeannie reminded her reflection.

  This was just lunch. With her favorite customer. While wearing her best dress.

  And the cutest pair of matching panties and bralette she owned. The set she’d ordered online in a pink that was more dusty than neon and was very lacy.

  Very lacy.

  She’d tossed and turned all night long, drifting in and out of lust-fueled dreams that left her hot and bothered. She hadn’t stopped with just straddling Robert or holding him. She hadn’t stopped at all.

  The doorbell rang. “He’s here,” Maja sang.

  Although it wasn’t ladylike, Jeannie sprinted out of the bedroom, yelling, “I’ll get it!”

  Which turned out to be pointless because Maja had already opened the door. Jeannie stumbled over her sandals and nearly took a header at the sight of the man waiting for her.

  He wasn’t wearing a suit.

  Had she thought Robert looked undone days ago when he hadn’t been wearing a tie? Because the man standing before her was so far from a suit and tie that she barely recognized him.

  Except for his eyes. She would never forget the burning intensity of Robert’s eyes for as long as she lived.

  Especially when they darkened. “You look lovely,” he said. A shiver raced down her back at the sound of his voice, deep and raw and—this wasn’t about lunch, was it?

  “So do you.” Instead of that suit, he was wearing a dark blue button-up shirt that had short sleeves and maybe some little pattern on it, all paired with light khaki shorts.

  Shorts. That revealed his well-muscled legs. Her pulse began to stutter as she stared at those defined legs. When had calves gotten so damn sexy? Lord.

  “I didn’t think you owned anything but suits.”

  “I didn’t know you wore anything other than vests before this week,” he returned with a smile that melted her.

  “Dr. Wyatt,” Maja interrupted. Jeannie startled. She’d forgotten the older woman was in the room. “Would you like a report?”

  “The thirty-second version,” he replied, not taking his eyes off Jeannie. Dear God, she could practically smell the sexual desire coming off him in waves.

  “Little Melissa continues to improve, Rona has made an excellent start and Jeannie—”

  “Is late for lunch,” he said, coming forward to take her by the arm.

  When he touched her, electricity raced over her skin, taking everything that had started to melt and tightening it to the point of delicious pain. She fought to keep from gasping as his hand slid down until his fingers laced with hers.

  She threw a glance back at Maja, whose expression clearly stated, your handsome doctor.

  “We’ll be back later,” Robert announced in that way of his.

  “Enjoy yourselves,” Maja said with a conspiratorial wink, shooing them out. “We’ll be fine here.”

  Oh, Jeannie would. If she got the chance, she was going to enjoy this with every fiber of her being.

  Reginald was waiting at the car for them. “Miss,” he said, tipping his hat to her as she approached.

  “Hello again.” Reginald’s expression was remarkably similar to Maja’s, like there was a conspiracy to make her and Robert...

  Well, not fall in love or anything because that simply wasn’t possible. He was a billionaire surgeon whose family owned a huge medical company and his father was maybe going to be the next governor. She was a bartender who’d never finished college and whose grand dream to own her own bar had been completely derailed by becoming the legal guardian to an infant. Their paths could only ever cross at a place like Trenton’s.

  She would never fit into his world and he would never understand hers.

  Jeannie didn’t know what to do with her legs. The hem of the sundress was well above her knees and Robert sat across from her. His gaze roamed over her. Was that hunger in his eyes? Or was he noting the shabby dress, the worn leather straps on her sandals, the hundred other little things that marked her as a different class?

  She tucked the hem of her dress around her thighs and stared right back. Of course he looked completely at ease sitting there. In shorts. Shorts! She still couldn’t get over it, or the way the sight of the dark hair on his legs stirred something deep inside her.

  The man was sin in a suit but there was something so casually masculine about him right now that her clothes felt too tight.

  He, at least, had no problem crossing his legs. “So,” she began because several quiet moments had passed and Robert showed no sign of breaking the silence. “What’s for lunch?”

  “Darna—that’s Rona’s sister—is preparing a traditional Filipino meal of chicken satay, tinola soup and suman for dessert.”

  She stared. “Did you hire Darna just for today?”

  “No, she’s worked for me for almost six years. I trust her,” he added as an afterthought.

  For some reason that made Jeannie happy. He needed people he could trust. She just wished he counted himself on that list.

  He didn’
t say anything else. They were driving toward downtown and, for once, traffic was light. “What else are we doing today?”

  She heard him inhale sharply and felt an answering tug in her chest. “Nothing.”

  She met his gaze. “Pity.”

  The tension between them sharpened. “Jeannie...”

  “Robert,” she replied. If he didn’t want to sleep with her, that was fine. But she wanted him to say it. She didn’t want any misunderstandings. “Aren’t we on a date?”

  His mouth opened and snapped shut and Jeannie got to appreciate that rare, wonderful thing where Dr. Robert Wyatt was flummoxed.

  “Because this seems like a date,” she went on. “I’m wearing a dress, you picked me up in a limo and we’re going to eat a meal. Pretty standard date stuff, really.”

  He was doing that fish thing, his mouth opening and closing and opening again. “I don’t date.”

  “You mean, you’re not currently seeing anyone? That’s good. I’m not involved, either. Which,” she added, “is good for the status of our date. I’m not into being anyone’s side piece.”

  “Side... Never mind.” He shook his head. “No. I mean, I don’t date. Ever.”

  “Ever?” Because that sounded ominous. She knew he wasn’t married—kind of went with the territory when he was named a top bachelor—but...

  He had kissed her. Twice now. And he had definitely started it the second time.

  “No,” he said sharply. Ominously, even.

  “Just going out on a limb here, but you’re not going to tell me why?”

  That got her a hard look.

  “Right.” She looked out the window again. They were making great time. “So sex is off the table, then?”

  He made a choking noise. “Do you have a filter?”

  “Yes. In case you’ve never noticed, I use it all the time—at work. But we’re not at Trenton’s. I don’t know what’s going on with you or what’s going on between us but...” His face was completely unreadable, so she went on with a sigh. “This is who I am, Robert. I’m a bartender who hasn’t completed a college degree and barely passed high school. My big dream is to open my own bar. I left home when I was eighteen and didn’t talk to my sister for almost six years. I can be mean and bitter and a huge pain in the ass when I put my mind to it and I am not a shy, retiring virgin. I like sex and I’d like to have sex with you.” It was hard to tell in the darkened interior of the limo, but she would’ve bet large sums of his money that he was blushing. “But I’m not going to push you into anything that makes you uncomfortable.”

  “Well, there’s that,” he said under his breath. She detected sarcasm.

  “But,” she went on, “beyond that, I’m a hot mess. I am singularly unqualified to raise a child, not to mention I have no way to pay for what a baby needs.” Robert opened his mouth, no doubt to find another way to spend his money on her. “No, I’m not going to take more of your money. She’s not your daughter and we’re not your responsibility. I’m in this car with you because I like you. I know what I want from you, you confounding, infuriating man. Not your money, not your name—I want you, Robert. I have for a long time. And I know I may not get it and that’s okay, too.” She leaned forward and put her hand on his knee. “But the question is, do you know what you want from me?”

  He stared at her hand, resting on his knee. She could feel him practically vibrating with nervous energy.

  But he didn’t say anything.

  The car came to a stop.

  Eight

  If there was one thing Robert had learned growing up in Landon Wyatt’s house, it was how to control his physical reactions, because showing joy or sorrow or, worst of all, fear, was the quickest way to pain.

  Over the years Robert had gotten so good at controlling those giveaways—the increased heart rate, the stomach-wrenching nausea, the shallow, fast breathing—that, for the most part, he’d simply stopped feeling distress. Even when a surgery went wrong, he was able to keep his emotional reactions on lockdown and he’d lost count of the number of times his cool head had prevented disaster or, worse, death.

  Which was good. Great, even. No one wanted to go through life afraid. He certainly didn’t.

  So why did he feel like he was going to vomit as he led Jeannie up the stairs to his house?

  He didn’t know. Jeannie was many things—including, apparently, a self-described “hot mess”—but one thing she wasn’t was a threat.

  At least, not the kind Robert was used to.

  “This is...wow,” she marveled as the front door swung open.

  “Welcome home, Dr. Wyatt. Miss Kaufman.” Darna beamed at Jeannie. She had a crisp white apron over her uniform and a welcoming smile.

  Odd. Darna was efficient and did exceptional work for him. But had he ever seen her smile?

  “Darna, is it? I was just getting to know Rona. She’s your sister, right?” Jeannie took Darna’s hand in hers and half shook it, half just held it. “It’s such a pleasure to meet you. I hope you didn’t go to too much trouble for this.”

  Darna’s eyes danced with what was probably amusement. “No, no—no trouble at all. I hope you enjoy the meal.” She retrieved her hand and turned to Robert. “Everything is set up on the terrace, sir. Will there be anything else?”

  “No.” Jeannie slanted him a hard look. “No...thank you?”

  Jeannie beamed at him. For her part, Darna looked as if Robert had just declared his undying love. “My,” she all but giggled. “My, my. Yes.” She patted Jeannie on the arm and giggled. “Yes,” she repeated.

  Robert could feel his pulse beginning to speed up, beating wildly out of time. Which was ridiculous because this was not a risky situation.

  This was, as Jeannie had pointed out, lunch. Between two people who...liked each other?

  All right, fine. He liked Jeannie. He needed to see her on a near-daily basis to function, it seemed. And he was doing everything in his power to help her through a difficult time. True, he’d done that for some of his patients, the ones where the bills would’ve bankrupted the families.

  But he hadn’t ever wanted to see those people again. And he certainly hadn’t ever wanted to kiss any of them. Like he’d kissed Jeannie. Twice.

  Kissed her and held her close—so, so close.

  His pulse jumped to a new level of erratic.

  With a nod, Darna disappeared into the house and Robert was left standing in the foyer with Jeannie. He needed to move but he wasn’t sure he could. Every system he’d spent years mastering was in open revolt right now and that was when Jeannie turned to him, a knowing smile on her lips. “I take it you don’t bring a lot of people home?”

  “No,” he replied. There. At least his voice was still under his control. He sounded exactly normal, even if he felt anything but.

  A few nights ago she’d straddled him. Today—mere moments ago—she’d boldly announced that she not only liked sex, but she’d also like to have sex with him.

  He would not lose control. He would not hurt her and he would not risk destroying this...liking.

  She took a few steps away from him, staring at the ornate ceilings. “This place is huge.”

  “Yes.”

  She looked back over her shoulder at him. “Is it just you?”

  He began to shake. “Yes. I value my privacy.”

  “I must say,” she went on, running her fingers lightly over the hand-painted wall coverings, “this is more...floral than I would’ve guessed.”

  “Oh?” His voice cracked a little as she moved into the parlor. Had she always had that sway to her hips?

  “I pictured you in a modern, stark condo—all harsh lines, lots of stainless steel and black. This?” She made a little turn in the parlor. “This is extravagant. Obnoxiously so.”

  No one else would tell him his house was obnoxious, but it w
as true. And Jeannie saw it. The dress swung around her legs, exposing more of the bare skin of her thighs, and Robert had to brace himself against the door frame. “It came like this.”

  She stopped twirling, the dress falling back around her legs. “You...bought the house like this and didn’t change anything?”

  He shook his head because he wasn’t sure he could speak, not with her making her way back toward him, that sway in her hips, that smile on her face. Like she’d been waiting for him.

  It wasn’t alarm knotting up his tongue and making him feel light-headed and dizzy. It wasn’t panic sending his pulse screaming in his veins. It wasn’t fear that had given him a rock-hard erection, the one he’d been fighting to contain ever since this woman had slid onto his lap. No, that wasn’t right. He’d been fighting this ever since she’d opened the front door and announced she’d been waiting for him. Since she’d been waiting on her stoop.

  This was desire. Raw, pure, dangerous desire.

  Oh, hell.

  Somewhere below, he heard the faint sound of the alarm system being engaged and then a door shut. The noise echoed through the house—the sound of Darna leaving. They were well and truly alone, and Jeannie wanted to have sex with him and he was starting to think it’d be a good idea but how could he let her strip him bare without his control snapping?

  “Hey,” she said softly, coming toward him. He almost flinched when she put her hand on his cheek. “Just be, Robert. Nothing has to happen.” She notched an eyebrow and instead of sympathy or worse, pity, he saw nothing but a challenge. “Although I reserve the right to make fun of this wallpaper because who wallpapers a ceiling?”

  Odd. He was sure he was glaring at her, which normally sent people running for the closest exit. But instead, this woman smiled and absorbed it. Understood it.

  Understood him.

  “I don’t want to hurt you,” he got out and dammit, his voice shook with the force of emotions that tumbled through him. Desire. Fear. Need. Pain. Want.

  An emotion shimmered in her eyes and was gone before he could identify it. “Oh, I don’t know about that. Those floral drapes are borderline painful,” she said with a mischievous grin and oddly, he was able to draw in a breath. “Why haven’t you changed them?”