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“Expect you to do?”
“Yes…when you come all the way here to Tyler and waltz into my office dressed like that.”
She stared down, looking appalled. “Dressed like what?”
She knew what. Seth’s lips parted in shock as his eyes drifted upward, over the sinfully short skirt, to the powdery lace top that so snugly cupped her full breasts. The collar wasn’t fully buttoned, and even from here, Seth could see ample cleavage. No, he decided, it definitely wasn’t his imagination. Jenna’s outfit was calculated to drive a man wild. And it had worked.
She was surveying him with nonchalance that had to be feigned. “What happened is all my fault, I assume?”
As if I attacked her. “Since when is making love anybody’s fault?” he couldn’t help but challenge.
“We had sex,” she corrected.
“You seem committed to keeping that distinction clear,” he muttered. No doubt, because she really intended to marry Dom. Realizing he was standing numbly in front of her, like a fool, Seth lifted a hand and leaned it against the door’s molding, conscious of the fact—but hardly caring—that he’d trapped her against the wall. Warring emotions ripped through him as his gaze dropped, tracing the rose swell of breasts he’d just palmed and tortured with his tongue. Breasts, if the truth be told, he’d come to secretly think belonged to him. Dammit! Surely he’d heard her wrong. That, or he was neck-deep in denial. But he wasn’t, was he? Earlier today hadn’t Molly Blake said Jenna adored him?
“This is definitely your fault,” he suddenly said, knowing he was contradicting himself, but unable to help it since befuddling his mind was only one of the many things Jenna Robinson did so well to him. “You damn well know how I react to tights with dark seams, high-heeled boots and leather miniskirts, Jen.”
She swallowed hard, color flooded her cheeks, and as he curiously watched the pulse ticking in her neck, Seth was suddenly sure she’d worn the provocative clothes on purpose. Oh, yes, Jenna had had every intention of arousing him. Making love with her hadn’t fully cured him of his desire, either, he thought angrily, his groin traitorously aching. But why the incredible claim she was marrying Dom Milano?
“When I dressed this morning, I wasn’t thinking,” she now defended with unnerving calm. Showing a spark of the usual Jenna, her glittering green eyes now settled on his, holding a dare. “But then, I didn’t happen to pack anything made of burlap, Seth.”
“Oh, don’t worry,” he returned dryly, still fighting denial about the abrupt, southward turn of their relationship. “Judging from that crowd you attracted on the sidewalk, tights with seams up the back go over well in Tyler.” He arched an eyebrow. “Staying in town long? If you don’t mind me asking, that is?”
“A few days,” Jenna said, her low-pitched voice still stiff. “I came…to work with Molly Blake on the promotion for her new bed-and-breakfast.”
That was rich. Before this, Jenna had never left New York for freelance jobs. “Happy to have gotten the work for you.”
“Thanks for the referral.”
He eyed her. “Couldn’t do the work by courier?”
Her mouth tightened. “No, it just so happens, I couldn’t, Seth. Not this time. This job is special.”
Seth didn’t believe it. Jenna had done freelance art jobs for clients in far more desirable locales than Tyler, and she’d never bothered to leave home. No, Seth decided, relief flooding him, none of this made a lick of sense. She’d come to town expressly to see him, and maybe it was more her idea than she was admitting. “Dom?” he managed again, his eyes narrowing in challenge. “Did you really say you’re marrying Dom Milano?”
Jenna nodded. “Yes, Dom.”
She sounded so serious. But Dom was merely her friend. They’d been buddies for years. Besides, after Sue Ellis’s divorce, it seemed obvious that Sue and Dom were getting together. Seth was usually as steady as a rock, but now he felt as if the floor were shifting under his feet. “Jenna,” he couldn’t help but say. “You’re serious? You’re getting married?”
Dangerous emotion sparked in her eyes. “I take it that surprises you?”
Seth could barely control his voice. “Hell, yes, it does.”
The comment only seemed to rile her. “Why?”
His lips parted in astonishment and the roughly spoken words were out before he thought them through. “Because I shared your bed for the past a year and a half.”
“Intermittently,” she returned, her head now bobbing up and down as if this confirmed some opinion she’d privately held for some time. “And sharing my bed was fine for you. I see. But now there’s something wrong with me marrying someone else?”
“No,” he shot back, determined not to let her fluster him. “I guess not. Except for the fact that we just had some rather amazing sex on my desk.”
“Sex,” she said knowingly. “Is it really so hard to imagine a man wanting a future with me?” Her voice rose passionately as if they were now having exactly the conversation she’d anticipated. “Is it really so difficult to believe a man might love me?”
No. Of course not. He’d thought he loved her a few minutes ago, when she was still outside standing on the sidewalk. “Five minutes ago you seemed lovable enough,” Seth admitted, unable to keep the huffiness from his tone. “So lovable, in fact, that if I was Dom, I’d be worried. Last I heard, faithfulness is usually an issue when it comes to marriage.” Not that it had been with his mother.
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