Seduced Read online

  He liked that she might have to depend on him for something, which meant he'd gain leverage to reap something in return… like her acquiescence for a date.

  Unfortunately, he wasn't sure he could accommodate her request. "My house isn'thuge." Granted, the twenty-five hundred square feet of living space he'd purchased a little over a year ago sometimes seemed monstrous and too damned quiet and lonely in the evenings. He had his cat, Camelot, to keep him company though, and she was the perfect roommate. Female and loving, she didn't make unrealistic demands on his time and never complained about his sometimes grueling work schedule and late nights.

  Absently, Jessica tucked a swath of hair behind her ear, revealing a small diamond stud earring that sparkled with her slightest movement. Not surprisingly, Ryan found her lobe incredibly sexy, and wondered if he'd elicit a shiver or moan from her should he ever have the pleasure of nibbling on that soft, enticing piece of flesh.

  "Can it accommodate about thirty people?" she asked, bringing his musings back to the present.

  He rubbed his thumb along his jaw as he considered her question. "If they're spread out between the living room, dining room, and family room on the bottom level. And if we move my furniture around to make more open space."

  "We can make it work." The exuberance brightening her features made him realize how much this party meant to her, and just how close she was to her sister. From the sketchy details Ryan had learned at Brooke's wedding, they had no other siblings. Their mother lived inWest Virginiawith her second husband, and when he'd casually asked Jessica about her father, he'd received a cool, emotionless response that their real father was no longer a part of their lives and hadn't been for some time. It was all the information he'd gleaned, but it had been enough for him to suspect that she'd had a rough childhood.

  She set her nearly empty cup on the small table between the two chairs, her eyes brimming with excitement. "We'll send Brooke and Marc a separate invitation on the pretense of you having a New Year's Eve celebration so they'll be surprised and won't try and talk us out of the party."

  He took a drink of his warm cappuccino and didn't reply to her monologue, since she wasn't really asking for his input. He hadn't said yes to using his house, either, but Jessica was obviously way ahead of him on that score and assuming that he'd agree. She had the party all planned out in her mind, and he was getting the distinct impression that he was just along for the ride.

  He intended to veer her off course and make the excursion much more interesting.

  "I'll take care of the other invitations, the decorations, catering, and a cake, and if you have a stereo system I'll bring along some CDs with romantic music that we can play." She grinned, bowling him over with that guileless smile that lacked her normal sass or reserve. "And I'll find a gift that I know they'll both enjoy, which we can go in on together, if you'd like. You won't have to worry about a thing except writing up a speech to toast the newlyweds."

  How convenient, he thought in amusement, knowing exactly what she was attempting to do-take complete charge and keep his interaction with her to a minimum. "And splitting the cost of the party with you, of course."

  "I'll keep the expenses as minimal as possible, I promise. And if the expense of the party gets to be too much for you, I'll cover the costs."

  Money wasn't a concern for him. Not in the least. "I can afford whatever you have in mind."

  She leaned forward in her chair expectantly, her eyes hopeful. "Then the party is a go at your place?"

  He saw this idea of hers as his last opportunity to insinuate himself in her life, to work past those barriers she put up with him, to spend quality time with her and tempt and seduce her, and see where their attraction might lead.

  Picking up his favoriteMont Blancpen, he rolled it between his fingers. "I'll agree to the party at my place on one condition."

  She made a snickering sound. "You can't agree without striking some kind of bargain, can you?"

  "I can't help it." He shrugged. "Making deals is part of my business. Why settle for less than what I know I can get?"

  "Call it what it is, Matthews-wearing your opponent down."

  He feigned a wince at her barb. "I'd like to think of it as drive and ambition to succeed. I haven't gotten as far as I have without it."

  Derision colored her gaze. "In your illustrious career as a divorce attorney, or with me?"

  Somewhere along the way their conversation had taken a personal slant, and it seemed as though his ambitious nature was a source of contention for her. "With both, actually."

  The leg crossed over her opposite knee bounced impatiently. "All right then, counselor, let's hear it. What are your conditions?"

  He set his pen in its holder. "That I'm part of the planning, every step of the way."

  Her jaw dropped, and she stared at him incredulously. "You're joking."

  He blinked, and kept his face carefully blank. "I'm completely serious."

  "You don't have time to do the planning," she insisted, obviously rattled by his suggestion and what it implied-spending time with him.

  "How do you know what I have time for?"

  She shook her head in an attempt to divert his interest. "I work out of my apartment with my medical transcripts, and can take care of calls and errands during the day. Why would you want to worry about any of this when I'm more than willing to handle everything?"

  Knowing if he revealed his true motives he'd never stand a chance with her, he opted for the obvious. "Well, for starters, I'm paying for half of this party, which gives me the right to contribute my opinion on everything, yes?"

  Very reluctantly, she said, "Well… yes."

  "And I'm opening my house to thirty-something people, so I'd like to know what to expect, and what you plan to do." He flipped through his daily calendar and summed up his schedule fairly quickly. "I do have some court appearances coming up and cases that I need to close, but for the most part my nights and weekends are wide open."

  Frustration all but radiated from her-there was nothing she could refute. She sat back in her chair with a small huff. "Why don't sharks attack lawyers?"

  Suppressing a grin, he reached for a piece of letterhead and retrieved his pen again. "Why?"

  "Professional courtesy," she muttered.

  He chuckled deeply as he drew a diagram to his house for her. "Is that your way of saying I got my way?"

  "Yeah, you got your way." She didn't sound happy about the fact

  He added his address and home phone number to the piece of paper. Standing, he circled around the desk and handed her the stationery with his bold script on it. "Here are directions to my place. How about we start on the planning tomorrow since it's Saturday? I'm free-how about you?"

  Tentatively, she took the heavy cream vellum from his outstretched hand, but didn't bother looking at it. "Unfortunately, I don't have any plans, either."

  "Great. Why don't you come over around eleven and take a look at the layout of my house and see what we have to work with, and then we'll go from there?"

  "All right." She folded the paper into a precise square. "I have a list of Marc and Brooke's close friends, and I have a program on my computer that can print up nice party invitations, so I'll do that this evening, get them addressed, and drop them in the mail on my way to your place in the morning."

  He leaned his backside against the edge of his desk and crossed his legs at his ankles. "Bring them over and we'll address them together."

  Her lips pursed. "I can do it myself. It's really a one-person job."

  "Regardless, I want to be a part of every aspect of this party, Jessie." He knew if he gave her an inch, she'd run a mile. "Including addressing and stamping the invitations."

  Her chin lifted a stubborn notch. "It'sJessica."

  "I like Jessie better." The nickname was soft, gentle, with just a hint of rebellion. "It suits you."

  She clucked her tongue. "I suppose you could call me worse."

  He dropped hi
s voice to a low, husky murmur for effect. "Like honey, or sweetheart?"

  Her cheeks flushed a sudden, telltale pink. "Those endearmentsdefinitely don't apply to me and you." Finishing the last of her mocha, she stood and pitched the empty cup into the wastebasket at the side of his desk.

  "They could." He twisted around to keep her in his line of vision as a sudden thought dawned on him. "Unless you're dating someone else?"

  "No," she admitted freely. "I'm single, available, but not interested… in you."

  Then it was up to him to change her mind, because her lying words contradicted the wistful look in her gaze.

  She broke eye contact first. "Well, I think we just about covered everything, and now that you've blackmailed me, I think I'll be on my way." She headed toward the door, and he followed right behind.

  "Just one more thing," he said with a lazy, self-assured smile.

  Her gaze narrowed skeptically as she reached for her coat. "What? Another condition?"

  He gently grabbed her wrist before she could execute her move, startling her. Instantaneous awareness cloaked them. She sucked in a swift breath, but didn't struggle or pull back. Their gazes locked as he stroked his thumb over the pulse point at the base of her wrist. In gradual degrees, he eased closer to her, while she stood statue-still.

  He watched as her irises turned as dark and sensual as crushed sapphire velvet, and a surge of heat sped through his veins. Their thighs brushed, and he heard her breath hitch in her throat. Unwilling to let this moment pass without indulging in one of his tamer fantasies, he lifted his hand and finally skimmed his fingers along her smooth cheek, savoring the suppleness of her skin.

  She looked stunned by his boldness, mesmerized by the tenderness of his touch. Taking advantage of her uncharacteristic docility, he gave in to the impulse he'd been denied earlier and slid his fingers into her hair. Silky warmth engulfed him, like nothing he'd ever experienced. The sensation was so unbelievably erotic he shuddered with pleasure.

  "Ryan?" she whispered, her voice holding a slight tremor.

  "No more conditions," he said, his tone low and rough. Fisting his hand into the feathery mass, he tipped her face up, so she could look into his eyes and see his intent. "This has nothing to do with the party, and everything to do with you and me… and finally getting an answer to a question I've been wanting to ask for the past year."

  And then he lowered his head and settled his mouth over hers.

  Chapter 2

  Jessica never could have anticipated the impact of Ryan's kiss, or her open response to him. A year's worth of resisting his charm, teasing and advances dissolved the moment his mouth touched hers, unraveling every solid lecture she'd given herself on why she could never fall for a man like him… a man who made a career out of tearing families apart, just as her family had been ripped apart.

  But none of that mattered at that moment, not when the man, not the lawyer, was gently coaxing her with the soft glide of his lips across hers, taking time and care to draw her into far more forbidden territory. She had no defense against his brand of lazy seduction, his hypnotic patience. And when he slid his other hand into her hair, gradually eased her back against the wall and slanted her mouth more firmly beneath his, she was totally and completely lost. She gripped his corded forearms for support, bared by his rolled-up shirtsleeves, and held on.

  Aching to experience more of this exquisite pleasure, she surrendered with a breathy moan. Her lips softened and parted beneath his, and his tongue swept inside to taste her, tantalizing her with silken, gliding forays that made her knees weak and her head spin. She brazenly sought a more intimate sampling, too, and shivered at the combined flavors of hot male and rich coffee.

  She learned quickly that despite his straightforward manner, he was a man who took his time and did things thoroughly. He kissed her with delicious languor, as if he had all the time in the world to indulge in the taste and textures of her mouth. His hips pressed closer, making her all too aware of the unyielding masculine body pinning her to the wall, the citrus scent of his aftershave, and the voluptuous sensations coursing through her.

  His thumbs brushed her jaw, and her skin caught fire. His wide chest grazed hers, and her breasts swelled and her nipples tightened and ached. A muscular thigh insinuated itself between hers, she felt the hard length of his erection against her hip, and heated desire curled low in her belly. And when he deepened the kiss, she responded just as enthusiastically.

  She'd never experienced passion like this-instantaneous and wild. Never wanted another man with such shameless abandon. Never allowed herself to be so reckless with her desires. Her one and only quick, awkward encounter with someone she'd briefly dated three years ago hadn't prepared her for such intense, thrilling pleasure and consuming need.

  Ever since her sister's marriage she'd been feeling restless, wanting something that felt just beyond her reach. With a kiss, Ryan tapped into deeper longings, and made her cravemore.

  While her body wanted to see where all this irresistible ecstasy might lead, her sensible mind reminded her that any kind of relationship with him was impossible. Having witnessed the pain of her mother's separation, along with experiencing the anguish of abandonment, she'd learned to be cautious and selective when it came to men in general. By Ryan's own admission, his ambition to succeed was his main focus, and wouldn't leave much spare room in his life to cultivate a commitment to something other than his career. She'd spent the past year dodging his flirtatious overtures, turning him down, swearing never to court the kind of disaster imminent with a driven man like him, whose profession contradicted everything she believed in and wanted for herself… love, marriage and family.

  A kiss, no matter how exciting and earth-shattering, wouldn't change her mind or her principles… or allow her to overlook the fact that he terminated families and marriages without thought to the injured parties involved in those cases.

  As if sensing her sudden doubts, he slowly dragged his soft, damp lips from hers. His hot, ragged breath along her cheek added to the arousing sensations, and she bit her bottom lip to keep from releasing his name on a breathless, plaintive sigh.

  "In case you're wondering, the answer was yes," he murmured huskily in her ear, then lifted his head and gently untangled his fingers from her hair.

  Trying to regain her own equilibrium, she braced the flat of her palms against the wall behind her and forced her lashes open to look at him. Though his body no longer touched hers, he only stood a few inches away, and she could still feel the sizzling heat radiating from him. His eyes were heavy-lidded and dark, his irises a rich shade of brown rimmed in a glittering gold. Hungry eyes. Seductive eyes. His thick, sable hair was tousled around his head enticingly, and he looked very sexy and overwhelmingly male.

  "What was the question?" she asked, her mind foggy and confused.

  A crooked, full-of-himself smile curved his lips. "Do you want me as much as I want you?"

  She'd forgotten all about his original quest to achieve an answer to his personal query. What she desperately needed was a lawyer joke to diffuse the too-intimate moment, but he had her so unbalanced she couldn't remember the simplest of her attorney witticisms.

  Frowning, and without thinking, she touched her bottom lip, which was still moist, swollen and incredibly sensitive. "And you think I said yes with that kiss?"

  "You most definitely didn't say no, and I always look for the positive." He slipped his hands into the front pockets of his olive-colored trousers. "Now that we have that awkward question out of the way, we can move on to the next logical phase of our attraction."

  She laughed at his presumptuousness, but couldn't deny just how adorable he looked, and just how much hedid appeal to her, physically and intellectually. He sparked something utterly shameless within her, made her want to throw caution to the wind and give in to that attraction he spoke of.

  "And what do you consider the next logical phase?" she asked.

  "A date."

&n
bsp; Nothing she hadn't already heard and turned down before. She inclined her head and smiled. "Don't you think you're going about things backwards? A kiss first, date second?" Deeming it way past time she left, she reached for her coat.

  He beat her to it, and held open the wool garment for her. "I've never been accused of being traditional."

  She wasn't surprised. How could a man whose main objective was to split up married couples believe in romantic customs and idealistic sentiments?

  She slipped into her coat with a murmured thanks, and turned around. His hands lingered, adjusting the collar, his thumbs grazing her neck. Of course her traitorous body shivered at that delectable caress, and her mind conjured up images of him gliding those long tapered fingers elsewhere.

  He handed her purse to her, and she slung the long leather strap over her shoulder. "What if I'm a traditional kind of girl?"

  An appropriately contrite look transformed his gorgeous features, though his eyes danced with a teasing light. "Then I apologize profusely for offending your delicate sensibilities with that kiss, and would like to make up for my atrocious behavior with dinner. How about tomorrow night?" He opened the door to his office and waited for her to precede him.

  She stepped out into the hall, and realized he intended to escort her out-and felt ridiculously pleased by the gesture. "I'll be seeing you tomorrow morning, and we'll be spending the afternoon together."

  "That's business. I'm referring to pleasure."

  The word "pleasure" rolled off his tongue like a silken, seductive stroke along her spine. She drew a breath and resisted its allure. "No."

  "Sunday night, then?"

  He lightly rested his hand on the base of her back. Her coat was heavy and lined, yet that subtle pressure was enough to incite her feminine nerves and send a feverish awareness swirling within her. She held on to her standards and her respectability with both hands. "No."