Seduced

The unmistakable fragrance of the delicious buttermilk spice muffins his mother made assailed his senses. There was a cloth-lined basket on the table, and judging by the half-eaten muffin on the plate next to his sister, he’d identified the scent accurately.

“Morning, Nat.” Taking one of the chairs across from her, he began pulling on his socks. “I’m glad to see that the house key I gave you for emergencies is coming in handy.”

Unaffected by his wry tone, she set aside the paper he’d read earlier and shrugged. “I knocked, and no one answered. I didn’t expect you to be out in the pool, for God’s sake.” She eyed him dubiously as she petted the fluffy gray ball of fur reclining on her lap. “How you can go swimming in fifty-degree weather and enjoy it is beyond me.”

The pool was one of the things that had appealed to him when he’d bought the house, along with the large whirlpool in his master bath. “I keep the water heated, and it’s invigorating.”

“Whatever rocks your boat.” Green eyes twinkling, she lifted her mug in a toast to him, then took a drink of the coffee.

Finished tying his shoes, he glanced at the clock, noted that he only had a half hour until Jessica arrived, and realized he needed to move his sister along her way. Unfortunately, Natalie was one to do things at her own unhurried pace.

At twenty-seven, she was the baby of the Matthews clan, and five years younger than he. Though he was close to all his sisters, he was especially fond of Natalie, whom he’d formed a special attachment to from the day his mother had brought her home from the hospital and he’d first peered into her bassinet. They were also the only two siblings left who were single and unattached.

“So, what brings you by?” he asked, wanting to get to the crux of her visit—if there was even a reason.

She glanced down at the cat she’d given him six months ago as a gift, so he’d have company in his big house. “I just wanted to make sure that Camelot isn’t wanting for anything, isn’t that right, Cammie?” she crooned, scratching the feline under her chin.

He couldn’t help but grin at her excuse. “And?”

She tipped her head up, and her rich brown hair, permed with soft waves, swirled around her shoulders. “I found her lapping at a bowl of cream, and judging by her very affectionate purrs, I think she adores her master.”

The cat was truly an affectionate pet, very spoiled, and he was just as smitten. “Now that you know Camelot has me wrapped around her paw, what really brings you by?”

She tore a hunk off the crispy top of the baked good, sprinkled with cinnamon sugared walnuts. “Mom wanted me to deliver something to you, along with these delicious muffins she made.” She popped the bite into her mouth and chewed.

“Which you’ve helped yourself to, I can see.” Unable to resist, he took a chunk of her muffin for himself. It all but melted in his mouth.

She licked the sugar from her fingers. “Of course,” she replied unrepentantly. “It’s not as though you have anyone else to share the muffins with.”

He lifted a brow at her direct comment, but didn’t feed the curiosity glimmering in her eyes. “You mind getting to the real reason why you’re here?”

“I’ll give you a hint. “You need to start practicing your ‘ho, ho, hos’ for Christmas Eve.”

Remembering what had transpired last Christmas Eve, he guessed right away. “You brought the Santa suit over?”

“Yep. Mom wanted to make sure you had it beforehand. Christmas is only three weeks away, and I heard Jackie, Jennifer and Alyssa talking about Santa stopping over at Grandma’s again this year. Looks like you started a new tradition.”

He smiled at the mention of his nieces, whom he adored, the three of which belonged to his oldest sister, Courtney, and her husband Dale. He also had two nephews by his other sister, Lindsay, and her husband Clive. The kids ranged in age from two to seven, and all still believed in the magic of St. Nick.

“I’d be happy to play Santa Claus.” He glanced at the clock again, this time more meaningfully. “I hate to rush you off, Nat, but I’ve got company coming over.” He ate the last of her muffin, then stood and started clearing off the table.

Natalie remained seated and continued stroking Camelot, watching as he tossed the newspaper into the trash, and took her mug and plate to the sink. “Hmm, if you’re cleaning, your company must be female.”

He slanted her a tolerant look. “Yes, she is.”

Interest glimmered in her eyes. “Is it serious?”

If Jessica had her way, they’d remain platonic friends. If he had his way, she’d be warming his bed and fulfilling those fantasies that had him tied up in knots. But no matter how much he desired her, he wasn’t about to rush her into something she wasn’t emotionally prepared for. When the time was right, they’d make love. He’d waited a year for her to come around, so he could abstain a while longer, until he swayed her to his way of thinking. But until then, he planned to keep her just as aroused and inflamed as he was with touches and kisses and anything else she’d allow.

He wasn’t sure how to answer his sister’s question, so he kept his reply ambiguous. “I definitely like her.”

“What’s her name?”

“Jessica Newman.” Rinsing the dirty plate and utensils in the sink, he placed them in the dishwasher. “She and I are planning a surprise party for Brooke and Marc on New Year’s Eve, and she’ll be here anytime.”

She ignored his blatant hint to leave. “Are you going to bring her over to Mom and Dad’s for Christmas Eve?”

Drying his hands on a dish towel, he thought of that possibility. Christmas Eve at his parents’ was a fun, cheerful, overnight affair, with baking, a buffet of food to snack on, and his mother playing Christmas music on the baby grand piano his father had bought her years ago for an anniversary present. There was laughter and reminiscing, and before the stroke of midnight they’d all retire to the rooms that they’d grown up in and wake up the next morning to enjoy the delight of watching the younger generation tear through the presents Santa had left for them.

He thought of Jessica, possibly spending the better part of Christmas alone, with her mother living in West Virginia, and Brooke now remarried. Would she accept such a personal invitation when she turned down the simplest of dates?

He’d never taken a woman to the family gathering before, never had the desire or the inclination to share that special time with someone else. Although it wasn’t difficult to imagine Jessica fitting in with his family, he wasn’t certain if he was ready for that leap and what it implied.

“I don’t know if I’ll ask her,” he replied, as honest an answer as he’d give.

The doorbell rang, and Natalie’s expression brightened with curiosity. Gently, she pushed Camelot to the floor, then stood, brushing the cat hairs from her black jeans. “Since your lady friend is here, I guess I should go.”

“How convenient,” he said drolly, knowing this was exactly what his sister had been stalling for. “Let me walk you to the door and introduce you.”

STANDING ON RYAN’S front porch at eleven o’clock to the minute, Jessica drew a deep fortifying breath and adjusted the strap of her tote bag over her shoulder. The canvas bag held the notepad on which she’d started to plan Brooke and Marc’s New Year’s Eve party, along with the invitations and labels she’d printed up last night.

With luck, and the feminine strategy she had in mind, she’d be here an hour, max. Once she droned on about the tedious, boring party plans that would have most men fidgeting and thinking about the football game on TV, she was certain he’d change his mind about helping and be grateful that she’d handle all the details on her own. From there, any decisions she needed from him could be taken care of over the phone, and she wouldn’t have to see him again until New Year’s Eve.

And that suited her perfectly, she told herself with a decisive nod. The less direct involvement she had with sexy Ryan Matthews, Esquire, the better. No matter how much he tempted her, no matter that a single kiss from him had the ability to arouse her to the point of making her feel reckless and wild, absolutely nothing could come of their attraction. So why put herself through the added torment of spending so much unnecessary one-on-one time with Ryan?

Her determination melted the moment he opened the door and stood there, filling her senses with the seductive, drugging hunger she’d managed to squash since leaving his office yesterday afternoon. The tantalizing awareness returned with a vengeance, contradicting the lecture she’d just given herself.

Gone was the professional lawyer attire. With seemingly little effort, dressed in casual jeans and a sweatshirt, he still managed to look gorgeous and exude way too much confidence. It was December cold outside, but the heat in his dark eyes set her body on fire. The sensual promise of his smile made her want to toss her better judgment to the wind and experience all that had gone unexplored in her previous sexual encounter.

No doubt, Ryan would be happy to accommodate her, and satisfy her every whim. The thought sent a strange thrill racing through her, and had her mind tumbling with shameless possibilities.

“Amazing, a woman who’s right on time,” he said teasingly, and motioned her into the foyer with a sweep of his hand. “Come on in.”

Shaking off the impossible thoughts stealing through her mind, she stepped inside the warmth of his house and opened her mouth to issue a lawyer joke in response to his male cynicism. The flow of words stopped when she saw another woman standing just inside the entryway, shrugging into a coat with a fur-lined collar.

The pretty and petite woman smiled. “Hi, Jessica, I’m Ryan’s sister, Natalie,” she introduced herself. “And I believe that wisecrack of my brother’s comes from his scarred childhood and having to wait on his three sisters for the better part of his life.”

Ryan sent a mock scowl Natalie’s way, but there was affection in his gaze. “You have no idea what it’s like to have to get up at four in the morning in order to take a shower for school before the three of you woke up and commandeered the bathroom. I was done in ten minutes, then had to sit around for three hours for the bus to arrive while the three of you fought for mirror space.” He turned back to Jessica, and continued his argument. “And no matter how much time they all had to get ready, they were never on time for anything. Lindsay and Courtney were even late to their own weddings.”

Deeming it her duty to stick up for her gender, Jessica added, “Obviously, their husbands think they were worth waiting for.”

Her reply earned her a brilliant smile from Ryan’s sister. “Oh, I do like you.”

Ryan groaned. “Weren’t you just leaving, Nat?”

“I’m gone.” Natalie pressed a quick kiss to his cheek, then grasped Jessica’s hand in hers. “It was nice meeting you. I hope we have the chance to get to know one another better.”

Jessica didn’t bother to correct the woman’s assumption that she was Ryan’s girlfriend. “It was nice meeting you, too.”

Ryan blew out a breath once he closed the door behind his sister. “Ya gotta love her,” he said with amusement, and helped her out of her jacket. “Especially since my parents keep insisting that she wasn’t adopted.”

Despite his joke, it was obvious that he loved his entire family very much. It wasn’t what she’d expected. A part of her had assumed that his career choice had been based on his own personal family history being less than stable. Now, she wasn’t so sure, which made her wonder what had inspired his choice of career.

She swallowed the personal question and retrieved her notepad from her bag. “I brought the invitations, and I thought I could draw out a diagram of the bottom level of your house so that I…I mean, we can figure out what we need to accommodate the guests.”

“Let’s get started,” he said, too eagerly, too helpfully. “You can make notes while I give you the grand tour.”

The “grand tour” left Jessica breathless. His house was huge in her estimation, when all she’d known was the one small home her family had lived in before her parents divorced, then the cramped space of apartments. Being self-employed and making a decent living as a medical transcriber, she’d upgraded to a nice complex in a middle-class neighborhood which she’d shared with Brooke until recently, but it didn’t come close to the luxury in which Ryan lived.

Obviously decorated by a professional, in masculine colors of royal blue, hunter green, and chocolate brown, the lower level was spacious and spread out, affording them enough room to set up rental chairs for the party. The formal table in the dining room would hold the buffet she had in mind, and if they rearranged the furniture in the living room and family room they could add more seats there, too. The kitchen was a caterer’s dream, with a huge wooden center island for them to use to prepare the appetizers.

As she gazed up the spiral staircase to the upper level, she imagined entwining evergreen and twinkling lights along the handrail and throughout the house to make it more enchanting. Cinnamon-scented candles would add to the ambiance. Flipping the page of her pad of paper, she made a notation under “florist” for poinsettias, holly and greenery, along with a few table arrangements.

“Did you want to see upstairs, too?” he asked once they’d covered the first level of the house.

She lifted her gaze from her notes and quirked her brow at him, feeling a tad suspicious. Up until this moment, he’d been very well behaved. “Is there anything up there I need to see?”

“The master bedroom?”

She bit the inside of her cheek to keep from grinning at the hopeful note in his voice, the inviting light in his gaze. “You plan on letting your guests mingle in there?”

A warm, private smile brushed across his mouth. “I’m only extending the invitation to you.”

“It would be incredibly rude of us to leave our guests downstairs while we mingle upstairs,” she said, deliberately misconstruing his meaning.

He followed her through the living room to the kitchen. “I’m sure our guests wouldn’t miss us for an hour.”

A delicious pressure tightened in her belly at his insinuation. An hour of pure ecstasy compared to the ten minutes of groping and fumbling she’d experienced three years ago.

Oh, wow.

Trying not to allow his sexy overture to entice her, she sat at the small kitchen table and withdrew the invitations, address labels and stamps. It was time to execute her scheme to discourage his interest in the party planning.

He didn’t complain when she gave him the unpleasant job of licking the envelopes, and assigned him the monotonous task of affixing the return labels and stamps. Too cheerfully, he did as she instructed, not once shifting anxiously in his chair, or issuing an exasperated sigh.

Her ploy wasn’t working. The man was impossible to dissuade. Not to mention that he had her completely distracted and unable to concentrate.

He was sitting so close, his leg occasionally grazed hers, the friction of denim against denim nearly electric. She could feel his eyes on her as he waited patiently for her to address the last two invitations.

And then he reached out and tucked the strands of hair behind her ear that had fallen against her cheek, exposing her neck to his gaze in the process. His fingers lingered for a few fretful heartbeats, then skimmed her jaw as his hand fell away.

A shiver coursed through her, and she calmly handed him the invitation and reached for the last one. “Am I boring you?”

“Not in the least.” Without acknowledging that he’d touched her, he dampened a stamp and pressed it onto the corner of the envelope. “And why do I get the impression that you’re disappointed about that fact?”

“More like amazed that you’re actually enjoying this.” Finished with the last invitation, she passed it to him to finalize the job. “Well, that’s done.” And now she could leave. “I’ll drop them in the mail on my way home.”

“All right.” He gathered the other items for her to put into her tote bag, then stood, left the kitchen, and returned with her jacket, and a worn, masculine leather one.

Considering his sudden eagerness to help her clean up, and the fact that he was shrugging into his own jacket, she wondered if maybe she had waylaid his interest in party planning. Obviously, he had more exciting plans on his agenda, and was just politely going through the motions.

“Have you eaten anything?” he asked.

She grabbed her purse and tote bag and replied without thinking. “Not since breakfast.”

“Me, either, and I’m starved. Come on, let’s get out of here.” He retrieved a set of keys off a hook on the nearby wall, and before she could gain her bearings, he had her hand enclosed in his and was guiding her out a back door to the garage.

He hit a button on the wall, a light went on, and the garage door started rolling upward, revealing a gray sky and snow flurries. A gleaming black Lexus with rich gold trim sat waiting, and Ryan opened the passenger door and ushered her into the butter-soft, tan leather interior.

Marveling at how easily he could manipulate her, how easily she let him, she buckled up while he circled around the car. Once he was behind the wheel, she asked, “Where are we going?”

The engine turned over on a soft purr of sound, and he glanced her way, grinning with wicked satisfaction. “On our first date.”

3

“THIS IS NOT A DATE,” Jessica reiterated once they’d arrived at the restaurant he’d selected and they’d placed their orders with the waitress.

Ryan glanced across the table at his date, and grinned. The sparkling laughter in her bright blue eyes belied her insistent tone and convinced him that she really didn’t mind that he’d coerced her into having lunch with him. “You keep insisting that this isn’t a date, but I think it all depends on how our afternoon ends.”

Her features altered into mock suspicion. “What’s the deciding factor?”

His gaze dropped to her soft lips, remembering the taste and lush feel of her. He could feast on her mouth for hours and still want more. “I think a kiss at the end of the day would determine whether this outing constitutes a date or not.”

She dipped her head as she opened her napkin and spread it on her lap. “Sorry to disappoint you, Matthews, but this is strictly a business lunch.”

He clasped his hands on the table and lowered his voice flirtatiously. “Ahh, but we haven’t discussed any ‘business’ yet.”

“But we will,” she said, and dutifully pulled out her pad of paper and a pen, along with a very diligent attitude. “We need to nail down the specifics for the party so I can make the appropriate calls and get everything set up and scheduled.”

“You win,” he relented, feigning a defeated sigh. “Business it is. For today.”

How was it that she looked both relieved and disappointed? The conflicting emotions he glimpsed intrigued him, and assured him that the potential for something more than their business dealings looked promising. It was just a matter of taking things slow and easy, and he had four weeks to persuade her to his way of thinking.

Admittedly, he’d never taken such time and care with a woman, but then the sophisticated, career-driven women he’d dated in the past had blatantly pursued him, and they’d both gone into the affair with the mutual understanding that there were no strings attached. Satiating physical needs had been the mainstay of those relationships, and ultimately their jobs had taken precedence over cultivating anything lasting. When they’d parted ways, they’d done so without regrets or emotional entanglements, and that type of arrangement had always suited him just fine.

Ever since meeting Jessica, he’d found himself growing more selective, to the point that he’d turned down a few offers from beautiful women he knew wouldn’t make demands on his time. Attracting willing females had always come easily, but somewhere along the way indulging in a purely sexual relationship had lost its appeal.

Jessica stimulated not only his body, but his mind, and a woman hadn’t accomplished such a feat in a long time, if ever. She made him think of things he’d put aside for his career, made him wonder if combining a real, lasting relationship with his job was do-able. Made him wonder if there was some kind of way to strike a balance between achieving success and maintaining traditional values.

Not with her, his conscience mocked, reminding him of her ultimate aversion to his profession. She was tolerating him because of the party she wanted to throw for Brooke and Marc, and no doubt would say good riddance come New Year’s Eve, unless he could convince her otherwise.

Yet there was no denying their attraction—or her reluctance to let their desire for one another take its natural course. And that meant he needed to help things along at a gradual, coaxing pace, in a way that would entice Jessica to give him a chance.

“…I thought appetizers would be more practical, instead of a full-course dinner,” he heard Jessica say. “Quiches, chicken fingers, stuffed mushrooms, buffalo wings. Those kinds of things that everyone seems to like. I can call a few caterers, get their suggestions, too, and an estimate for the party.” She took a drink of her soda, her gaze expectant. “What do you think?”

He pretended to mull over her suggestion. “That sounds fine to me.”

“Great.” Seemingly pleased with his easy acquiescence, she scribbled a note on a piece of paper with the heading “Caterer.” Meanwhile the waitress arrived with their meal, setting a bowl of potato cheese soup in front of Jessica, and a cheeseburger in front of him.

They both started in on their respective lunches. After a few spoonfuls of soup, Jessica continued with her agenda. “I was going to contact Wilson’s bakery to order a cake, and I was thinking we should go with white cake with a butter cream frosting.”

He chewed on a bite of cheeseburger and thought about her bland suggestion. Not wanting to outright discount her opinion, he chose his words carefully. “I’m not a cake connoisseur by any stretch of the imagination, but what’s wrong with a flavored cake, like chocolate, or lemon, or even something more exotic like Black Forest?”

She wrinkled her nose at him, silently rejecting his idea. “Not everyone likes those flavors, and vanilla is pretty safe.”

“But not very exciting or different,” he pointed out, and saw her brows pucker ever so slightly at his argument. “I mean, why do we have to go with just one cake?”

“Because…” Her jaw snapped shut when no other words emerged, then she tried again. “Well, I just thought…” Seemingly unable to find a solid answer to dispute his creative concept, her shoulders slumped. “I guess we could get a variety,” she said reluctantly. “What do you suggest?”

He’d put her on the defensive, and he hadn’t meant to do that. And she obviously wasn’t happy about his interference in her plans, but it just wouldn’t be any fun if he gave in to her every whim without adding a little spice to the mixture. If it was really important, he’d let her have her way—but first, he’d prove to her that plain and practical white cake didn’t compare to a more exciting, tasty and pleasurable array of desserts.

She was waiting for his ideas, very impatiently if the tapping of her pen was any indication. Keeping his expression unreadable, he dragged a French fry through a pool of ketchup and met her gaze from across the booth. “Can I have a few days to think about it?”

He’d definitely caught her off guard with his request to take the time to consider their cake dilemma. As much as he knew she would have preferred settling the issue here and now, she conceded to his request.

“Sure.” She smiled as if to placate him. “Can you let me know your ideas and suggestions by the end of the week so we can make a decision and get the cake, or cakes, ordered?”

He nodded. “We’ll definitely have it covered by the end of the week.” And she’d have a new appreciation for the different tastes, flavors and textures of cake.