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Outside, Jenna stepped around the Cadillac and to the curb, and he drew in yet another sharp breath at the sight of her. Six weeks without her had definitely been rough. In fact, right now he felt as if someone had given him a shot of straight testosterone. Despite that, he chuckled and shook his head, seeing that Brick Bauer and Lee Nielsen had stopped on the sidewalk to gape at her.
Any man would.
Yes, indeed, Jenna Robinson was quite a sight for Tyler. As usual, she’d done something new, inventive and wild with her hair. Jagged streaks of red shot through the jaw-length, auburn strands, and the cut made it look as if she were wearing a cap of soft, exotic feathers. Involuntarily, Seth’s fingers flexed with the need to touch it, then he licked where his lips had gone dry. Around the long, slender column of her swanlike neck someone—probably Gretchen’s mom, Sue—had painted a temporary henna design that resembled a lace choker.
Everything inside him tightened as his eyes drifted down to where the sides of a chic, A-lined, thigh-high black leather coat fell open over a tight, powder blue lace top, and by the time Seth’s eyes hit her miniskirt, he was a complete goner. A groan escaped him as he took in the hip-hugging fabric. “What am I going to do with you, lady?” he whispered.
She had the sort of endless, mouth-watering legs that went on for miles, and that seemed to beg a man to bend them and kiss the tender taut flesh behind her knees. Right now those scrumptious legs were encased in silver, black-patterned tights. Tall, skinny, knee-high boots were threaded with red laces that zigzagged up her slender calves.
By some miracle she didn’t look the least bit trampy. Given her clothes, she should have. But Jenna could slip into the most outrageous attire and waltz down a sidewalk looking like a centerfold for Class magazine. Her features were simply too refined to allow for the wrong impression. Her heart-shaped face was delicate and finely boned, and she held her perfectly formed mouth almost primly as if to ensure onlookers that she didn’t put up with any nonsense. The expression wasn’t just for show, either, as Seth well knew. On occasion, Jenna Robinson was a girl who came out—loud and proud—as a girl with attitude.
Her strange mix of prim censure and vampiness had first captured Seth’s attention—and imagination—nearly two years ago. Now his gaze riveted on her eyes, or at least what he could see of them, since they were obscured by round, wire-rimmed sunglasses.
Shifting Gretchen on her hip, she resolutely headed toward the front doors of the bank, making Seth feel more oddly nervous than he had in his whole life. All at once, he was aware that his palms had gotten damp, something that hadn’t even happened during the last stock market crash. Today was different, though. Infinitely more nerve-racking. Not only had the woman he’d left back in New York shown up in Tyler, but she’d apparently come bearing a wedding dress.
“Here’s to you, Ms. Robinson,” he whispered.
“HOW COULD YOU let this happen?” Jenna mouthed worriedly. Once Seth met her in the bank’s lobby and said hello in that smooth, melodious baritone that drove her so wild, she should have known her plans would derail. They always did.
Just looking at him had filled her with hopelessness. How could she tell him she was marrying Dom? Sure, she’d lain awake all night, carefully imagining herself charging into Tyler’s S&L to deliver her rehearsed speech about being pregnant and getting married. She’d practiced until she felt fully prepared for the encounter, buoyed up by Dom’s proposal and the fact that she was six weeks pregnant with a baby who needed a father. Dom loves you, Dom loves you, Dom loves you, she’d reminded herself, the words going through her mind like a mantra this morning as she’d gripped the wheel and rounded the town square in Tyler, driving toward the bank.
“All this time we’ve worked together,” she’d remembered Dom saying, his gentle voice brimming with emotion, “my feelings for you have grown, Jenna. And now that Seth’s back in Tyler, it’s my first real chance to tell you how deeply I feel, to ask you to marry me.”
“Somebody loves me,” she’d whispered when the S&L came into sight. “No matter what Seth says, I won’t forget Dom’s waiting for me in New York.” Countless times this morning, she’d changed clothes, and at least until she’d arrived on Main Street, U.S.A., she’d been sure her outfit was conservative enough for the bank…conservative enough to show Seth she was calm, cool, collected and not the least bit ruffled by how easily he’d left New York and their relationship.
When she’d gotten out of the car in Tyler, however, people had turned to stare, immediately reminding her of why she’d fled Bear Creek, North Carolina, years ago.
Well, let people look, she’d fumed silently as she’d headed inside the bank with Gretchen, working herself into a tizzy, already imagining her final, grand exit. She’d tell Seth, once and for all, that she didn’t need him, that everything was different now. Dom loved her so much he’d proposed, she’d announce boldly, then she’d push through the lobby doors and head straight back to New York. Imagination being what it was, she kept seeing herself hop into something far flashier than the dented Cadillac.
Not that it mattered. Like all best-laid plans, something had gone terribly wrong, and before Jenna could even open her mouth, Seth had chuckled. “Some car you’ve got there. I hope it was free.”
Was that all he intended to say after six weeks of separation? After Jenna had traveled all the way across the country to see him? She’d glared at him. “Are you saying you have a problem with my car?”
“Nope. It’s better entertainment than a movie. Everybody in Tyler’s talking about it. Martha Bauer swears it once belonged to Elvis, and when Jack Moray came in to deposit his weekly checks, he admitted he almost towed it from where it was parked in front of the Kelsey Boarding House last night.”
Curious in spite of herself, she’d said, “Jack Moray?”
Seth had nodded. “He’s a tow-truck owner. He thought it was abandoned, but Michael stopped him.”
“Michael?”
“The minister’s husband.”
“Oh, right. Sarah Baron. She’s the minister who called me,” Jenna had said, hating to admit how much she’d warmed to the show of down-home hospitality. She truly did despise small towns, she’d assured herself, and since Seth Spencer now lived in one, Jenna was very determined to keep it that way.
“And the man at the curb,” he’d continued, “the one staring at your inspection sticker. That’s Cooper Night Hawk. He’s a deputy.”
“I’m legal.”
Leveling her with an assessing male stare that had her fighting a shiver, Seth had softly returned, “You sure as hell don’t look legal, Jenna.”
“Come near me and you’ll get arrested.”
“You brought handcuffs?”
She’d shot Seth a look of censure. “Manacles.”
“Hope you’ll want to throw away the keys.”
At that tantalizing juncture, she’d at least gotten out the first five words of her planned speech. “Seth, we need to talk.”
“We’ll start with sweet nothings and go from there,” he’d assured lightly, the words of promise turning her legs to water.
By the time Jenna found herself standing in his office, she’d decided it was hopeless. Even moments before, as she’d steeled herself against him, Seth had managed to relieve her of Gretchen so quickly that the baby could have been a greased watermelon. He’d placed a guiding hand under Jenna’s elbow in that damnably sexy, gentlemanly gesture she was so determined to forget, the one that made her feel so much like a woman, and the next thing she’d known, he’d been slipping her coat from her shoulders and employing a bank teller to baby-sit Gretchen.
Now Jenna stared around his office. “Well,” she managed dryly, “here we are.”
Smiling, Seth shut the door, then quickly twisted the lock.
Her mouth dropped. She’d missed him physically, but she definitely had more self-respect than this. Holding out her hands, palms up, she schooled herself not to lose her nerve. “What I have to say isn’t that private.” She glared pointedly at the lock.
“No?”
Seth didn’t look convinced. In fact, he looked completely, unnervingly in control, reminding Jenna of exactly why she’d come. For once, it would be a pleasure to tell this man she had her own agenda. Her heart missed a beat. Why did the father of her coming baby have to be so handsome and commanding? Ever since she’d first laid eyes on Seth Spencer, she’d found him irresistible. He was a good six inches taller than she—six-foot-two to her five-eight—with dark brown, chocolate-colored hair he kept neatly trimmed over his ears. Slightly spiked bangs jagged onto a high forehead, accentuating brown eyes that shouldn’t have been so interesting, but that did crazy things to her insides, anyway. His squarish face was set with a hard, practical mouth that reminded her of how well he kissed and hinted at the mysterious moody silences she’d come to expect from him on occasion. Why was he so moody, though, she wondered now. What complaints could Seth have? He’d told her his mother had died years ago, but otherwise, his seemed to be a trauma-free childhood in a town that Norman Rockwell could have painted. As far as Jenna knew, he’d always been successful in his undertakings, not to mention groomed from birth to run this bank.
Whatever the case, Seth’s looks shouldn’t have made him so mouth-watering, but he was, and that annoyed her. Well, that, and the rumpled shirt he’d tucked into soft brown wool trousers that looked far too expensive for Tyler. The damn shirt made Jenna want to do the most foolhardy things for him, like set up an ironing board in his living room. Even worse, the bemused tilt of that hard, uncompromising mouth said Seth knew it.
“I’m waiting,” he said.
“Unlock that door.”
His lips stretched further, in a smile that both warmed and irritated. “Why? So you can run for the lobby, Jen?”
Jen. Why did he have to call me Jen? Jen was a pet name he reserved for special moments, such as when they were naked and wrapped in each other’s arms. She braced herself. Mentally rehearsing her speech for the last time, she felt unreality sweep through her. Suddenly, she felt like a bit player in a bad, low-budget zombie film, as if she was locked inside a room with Seth Spencer, but she couldn’t move or speak. It was as if an unseen hand had just appeared from nowhere and clamped down hard over her mouth. I’m pregnant and marrying Dom. Just say it!
Seth was still smiling.
And despite the promises to herself, something in Jenna’s heart gave. She didn’t want to react to him, no more than she wanted to react to this bank. The Tyler Savings & Loan, she thought. Seth’s bank. It was just as he’d so often described it to her, a simple brick building with a clock tower overlooking the town square. He’d always sounded so proud.
Maybe I’m being too hard on him, she found herself thinking as she gazed into brown eyes that were so ordinary and yet so strangely beguiling. She’d always known he was going to return to Tyler someday, right? It wasn’t as if the man had lied. Maybe it wasn’t right to drop the news on her so casually, but he’d never made a secret of the fact that he was being groomed for this job. Still…
I thought he’d gotten serious about me and would ask me to come.
But he hadn’t. And years of living with Ralph and Nancy Robinson had made Jenna tired of settling for less love than she deserved. Pushing aside the thoughts, she tried to hold onto her resolve. She was definitely marrying Dom within the week. It was the right thing to do, both for herself and the coming baby. It hurt, but she forced herself to think about how much time she and Seth had spent apart. Even while they’d dated, he’d made clear that he didn’t want to deepen the relationship. He’d never warmed to the topic of having a family…
Despite the circumstances, she found herself craving just one kiss from him. “You look good, Seth.” The words slipped out.
“You don’t look bad yourself, Jen.”
She edged back, against the door, her eyes darting around the simple, well-appointed office. She frowned when she saw the clear top of his polished wooden desk, and she wondered if he was happy with his move. “Doesn’t look like you’re keeping yourself too busy around here,” she said with concern. He’d always been so active on Wall Street.
“That,” Seth murmured, angling his body toward hers, “or I’ve got plans for the desk.”
Those damnably irresistible lights in his eyes made clear what he meant. “Plans?”
Leaning swiftly, he grasped her fingers, the touch of his skin sending a current of electricity dancing up her arm. Panicking, her knees weakening, she told herself to let go of Seth’s hand, but something in its smooth heat made her twine her fingers through his. Stepping backward, he pulled her toward the desk, and even though her heart was beating out of control, she followed. Tell him about the baby! Tell him you’re marrying Dom! screamed a voice in her mind.
Another said, If you don’t make love with him now, Jenna, you’ll never get another chance. It’s only sex to Seth, nothing more, but you’ll always miss the feel of his arms wrapped around you. If you don’t do this now, you’ll never feel his chest, hard and crushing against yours, again, or the pounding of his heart. You’ll never have the opportunity to feel so physically close to a man again. What you share with him is so special, not something you’ll find with Dom.
Her hind end hit the desk. As Seth lowered her to the surface, she gasped. Scents of expensive aftershave and cologne came in tandem with starch from his shirt as his strong, warm body covered hers. Their hips locked. Just as she registered his arousal, he angled his head downward, his lips hovering. She opened her mouth, knowing things had gone too far. She had to tell him about Dom. Now! “Seth—”
His mouth covered hers. The swift capture of her lips communicated full intent, and the onslaught of his tongue challenged, plunging deeply, wetly. Long ago they’d discussed safe sex and knew they were both healthy, but on occasions such as this, they’d sometimes made love without protection like teenage fools. It was how she’d gotten pregnant. And since she already was, she figured there was no danger now. Except that you’re getting married! said a voice. But then, she hadn’t really said yes yet, had she?
“Seth,” she suddenly protested.
“Jen,” he’d murmured simply. “Oh, Jen.”
She tried to find her voice again, but she’d missed him too much over the past six weeks, and the power of his kisses were more than she could stand. Later, she’d be furious over her lack of willpower. Later, she’d be worried about this momentary, understandable lapse, but she’d tell herself she had every right to go through with her plans to marry another man.
Besides, Seth didn’t care, did he?
Her mind hazed as her hands cupped his shoulders, then glided over the back of his crisp cotton shirt. No, Seth didn’t care, she told herself as a dark strong hand slid effortlessly down her lace top, opening the buttons, right before effortlessly opening the front catch of her bra. No, he could never love her, she gasped as his mouth covered a nipple, the slow, sensual swirls of his tongue seeming to touch the core of her.
She wanted to feel his chest.
That was her last coherent thought as her hands fumbled with the knot of his tie, then the buttons of his shirt. Pushing apart the sides, her palms cupped rock-hard pectorals, then her fingers delved hungrily into hairs that felt like tangled silk. Vaguely, she was thinking about the fact that he probably didn’t want children. No, whenever she’d commented on how cute they were, playing in the parks in New York, he’d never said anything affirming.
Now his hands glided up her outer thighs, pushing up the skirt she should have known better than to wear because she knew how much it would arouse him. She tried not to buy into the illusion she’d allowed herself for the past year and a half, the illusion that Seth really did care, but only spoke through his body, rather than in words. It was a nice illusion. And it seemed so plausible right now. Surely, no man kissed like this if he didn’t love a woman.
“Seth,” his name escaped with a soft moan, the core of her aching as he drew down her tights and panties.
“Jen,” he whispered again, his blistering hot mouth sweeping hers again as his trousers dropped. And then he was inside her. Feeling him so deeply filling her, she flung back her head, drifting to a place where only he could take her. No man had ever given her this kind of pleasure. Suddenly, she wanted to cry, knowing she could never live without this kind of passion, but that she’d have to. I should have…should told him, she thought incoherently. Have to tell him right now… And then the thoughts were gone and she shattered. His release came with hers, tearing at her heart. Wasn’t this kind of perfectly choreographed sex almost unheard of?
But Seth didn’t love her! She had to move on, to marry Dom. Her senses still reeling, she quickly began to right her clothes, furious at herself but knowing she had a responsibility to herself and to the coming baby. Forget Seth! She was starting a family.
“Seth,” she managed weakly, her body still awash with his heat as she slid off the desk, tugging down her skirt. “I can’t believe this happened,” she began, running a hand through her hair. “But I know you’ll understand. I think we can talk reasonably. We’ve known each other such a long time, shared so much, and while I know we’ve never…uh, pretended to mean more to each other, I think we can speak openly here.”
Nodding, he buckled his belt, shooting her a gentle smile. “All of Tyler’s wondering why you’re in town. And so am I. So, go ahead and say whatever’s on your mind.”
“I know it’s only been six weeks,” she began, wishing she hadn’t made love to him, but trying to tell herself this visit was still going fine, that she could recoup her losses, “however, a lot’s happened since you left New York.”
Looking pleased in a way she couldn’t quite understand, Seth eyed her playfully as he knotted his tie. “Go on.”
Forcing herself not to notice that those irresistible dark brown eyes were as warm as whiskey mixed with liquid smoke, she tried to prioritize her thoughts, then she forced herself to continue. “I…well, the first thing I guess you should know is that Dom and I are getting married.”
Chapter Three
“Married? After what we just did?” Seth managed, unable to process what she’d just said. Surely he’d misunderstood. Jenna wasn’t marrying another man! She couldn’t! His body was still on fire. His thighs were weak from how she’d sapped every last drop of his strength, and his voice was low and raspy from the raw way he’d kept whispering her name. “You’re telling me this after making love to me, Jenna?”
“We didn’t make love,” she protested nervously, quickly buttoning her top and tucking it into her leather miniskirt. “We had sex.” She colored. “There’s a big difference, Seth. There really is.”
Given the circumstances, her pointing it out was sorely offensive. His lips parted in exasperation. “You don’t think I know that?”
Exhaling a whoosh of annoyed breath, she arched a thin, dark, perfectly tweezed eyebrow and challenged, “Do you?”
If he was honest, maybe not, but under the circumstances he hardly wanted Jenna enumerating his deficiencies in relationships with women or otherwise probing his sensitive spots. For the first time, he silently damned her for knowing him well enough to guess his Achilles’ heel. The truth was, he really didn’t have much experience with women. Oh, he loved sex, of course. That was a man’s lifeblood as far as Seth Spencer was concerned—an attitude shared by all the Spencer men—but when it came to mixing pleasure with emotion, Seth had always avoided women. Until Jenna.
“I guess you make love to Dom?” he said now, trying to keep his tone even. But when could Dom and Jenna have gotten together, a voice in his mind asked. And if what Jenna said was true and she was getting married, why had she made love to Seth now?
Forget it, Seth thought. A relationship with Dom simply couldn’t have progressed to the point where they were getting married. Seth had only left New York six weeks ago! Besides, he, not Dom, had been dating Jenna for the past year and a half. Sure, deep down he’d wanted to head back to New York and claim her, but Seth had known that was impractical. He had a bank to run.
Yesterday, however, he’d begun considering calling Jenna in Manhattan, to see if she’d changed her mind and might want to keep in touch with him. He’d barely admitted it to himself at the time, but he’d been considering suggesting that Jenna fly to Tyler for a long weekend visit…. Seth hadn’t been sure he should take that risk, though.
And now Jenna was in Tyler. Just moments ago she’d been half naked and lying across his desk, too, and now Seth simply couldn’t grasp what was happening. Had Jenna really said she was marrying Dom Milano?
She didn’t bother to answer his question. He watched in stupefaction as she straightened her top, then he listened to the rustling fabric of tights as her endlessly long, showgirl legs scissored toward the door. As furious as he was, he had to admit he was affected by her graceful movements. She looked like she was dancing, not fleeing his office as if the hounds of hell were on her heels. When she turned, Seth was pleased to see her chin quivering. It was a show of weakness virtually unknown to Jenna, and while he wasn’t proud of it, Seth hoped she was feeling even guiltier than that uncharacteristic tremor indicated, especially if she was really marrying Dom.
But she’s not. She can’t be. It’s impossible. Besides, even if she was, why would she come all the way to Tyler. Once more Seth reminded himself that for the past year and a half she’d been dating him, not Dom, then pure fury whipped through him. Had Jenna been sleeping with Dom while she was seeing Seth?
He drew in a deep, steadying breath, but his mind continued to race. He had a million questions, but he was far too much of a man to make himself vulnerable. He just wished he couldn’t so easily see Dom’s appeal, but Dom was one of those sexy, swarthy Italians women always swooned over. He looked like a younger, taller Al Pacino, and he managed to share female interests without ever seeming unmasculine. He was a clotheshorse, for instance, just like Jenna, and Dom could talk as enthusiastically about street rumbles he’d fought during his youth in Little Italy as he could about other things Jenna loved so dearly, such as art shows and foreign films.
Grinding his teeth, Seth had a flash fantasy in which Dom was translating Italian movie subtitles for Jenna in a seductive voice, and then Seth tried not to recall the knowing look in Dom’s teasing, flashing dark eyes. Dom very definitely possessed the kind of challenging male gaze that promised a woman passion, and as he visualized that insinuating look, Seth’s fingers curled, knotting into tight, angry fists.
“I’d prefer to keep the specifics of my relationship with Dom private,” Jenna was saying stiffly from her place at the door. “But I—I thought you should, uh, at least know what was happening. Actually, Dom insisted you be told this. And…well, Seth, there’s something else I really need to tell you now….”
“I’ve heard enough already,” he growled under his breath, shoving his clenched hands deep into the pockets of his trousers, largely so she wouldn’t see him fidget and realize how affected he was by this news. “Jenna,” he continued, raising his voice but managing to keep it thoroughly controlled. “Let’s stick with Dom for the moment. If you’re marrying him, why didn’t you bother to tell me when you waltzed into my office?”
“How could I? You didn’t give me a chance!” she burst out, her voice still hoarse and tinged with arousal, the dark color that suffused her cheeks deepening to a guilty scarlet.
“You’re right about that,” he muttered, unable to take his eyes from her as he thrust a frustrated hand through his short dark hair. Gritting his teeth, he decided she had some nerve looking so damn gorgeous, standing against the door, so tall and slender, her scrap of a skirt topping those annoyingly long, luscious legs that had been wrapped around his waist just minutes ago, squeezing the breath out of him.
Seth bit back a groan. He’d missed her so much. Even now, her silken red-streaked hair looked too touchable, feathering against poreless cheeks that had been as smooth as water under his mouth. Her lips were swollen, berry-red and pleasantly bruised from the needy, insistent crush of his kisses. Despite the situation, looking at her made heat pool in his belly, filling him with ravenous lust all over again. He glanced at the desk, then blew out a murderous sigh.
“Okay,” he forced himself to say, moving toward her, his mind whirling, his voice taking on a harder edge. “You’re absolutely right, I didn’t give you a chance to talk to me when you got here, but you didn’t exactly complain about it, did you, Jenna?” Hadn’t she come here for exactly what he’d given her? Hadn’t she been going crazy without him? His mind still couldn’t quite process what she’d said about Dom. “What did you expect me to do?” he bit out when she didn’t respond, suddenly unable to contain his uncertainty any longer.
“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.
