"Something short-term then?"
Unable to tell if he was serious or joking, she slanted him a quick glance. The sinful invitation in his gaze indicated his suggestion was, indeed, an earnest one. Temptation crooked its finger, and it took more than a little effort to abstain from accepting his beguiling proposal.
None too soon, the door whooshed opened, and she stepped into the marbled lobby. "You're a rogue, and I'm not interested."
"You're not a very good liar, Jessie," he said in that silky tone of his. "You're definitely interested."
He stopped in the middle of the lobby, and she continued on to the main entrance. Then he called out after her. "And just for the record, I plan to wear down that resolve of yours."
She turned and used her backside to push open the glass doors that enclosed the interior of the building. Her breath caught, at the afternoon chill that swirled around her, and at the vision of Ryan leaning against a tiled column, so utterly confident, so inherently sexual, so completely irresistible.
But resist him she would. She flaunted a grin full of fabricated sass. "You can certainly try, counselor, but don't expect me to make it easy on you. And don't expect to win."
He tipped his head, and a lock of dark hair fell across his brow, adding to his appeal. "You making it easy on me wouldn't be any fun, now would it?" he drawled. The devastatingly wicked grin claiming his lips told her he accepted her dare and anticipated the challenge. "See you tomorrow morning."
Ryan pushed himself to swim an additional ten laps on top of the fifteen he'd already accomplished, hoping the extra morning exercise would burn off the restless energy that had kept him tossing and turning for most of the night Also to blame were the vivid fantasies that had invaded what little sleep he'd been able to snatch. Of Jessica beautifully naked and submissive in his bed. Of him discovering those curves she'd hidden beneath her bulky sweater, skimming his hands along quivering flesh, tasting her with his tongue, making her want him to the point of begging him for release.
And she begged so prettily in his fantasy, so sweetly. But before he could experience the ecstasy of burying himself deep inside her softness and warmth, he awoke from the erotic dream with a start. He'd been hard and aching, the sheets tangled around his bare legs, and sweating despite the cool night air washing over his body. Three times she'd brought him to the edge last night, until he'd finally dragged himself from bed at dawn and put himself through a rigorous workout regimen in hopes of diminishing the lust that gripped him.
The sharpness of desire had ebbed, but he still wanted her.
Reaching the deep end of the pool, he executed a flip, accelerated off the wall, and continued his fluid, precise strokes across the surface. Curls of steam rose from the water he kept heated in the winter so he could use the pool on a daily basis, but his lungs burned from drawing in cold morning air. The muscles across his shoulders and down his back tingled from the exertion, while the warm water sluiced along his skin, his belly, his thighs, like a lover's caress.
Jessica's caress. And just like that, she'd joined him in the pool where he thought he was safe from those erotic fantasies with her.
The kiss they'd shared yesterday afternoon had ignited a dark, carnal craving he couldn't seem to shake, along with a deeper hunger that transcended mere sexual need, and emotions no other woman had ever evoked. For a year he'd let their desire for one another simmer, and now that he knew there was a warm and willing woman beneath that composed exterior, he wanted to discover everything about her, every sensual secret she harbored.
No easy feat, considering her maddening attempts to deny him, and her frustrating aversion to his profession. But that kiss had provided him with irrefutable evidence. Her vocal cords might be saying "no", but her lips had told him all he needed to know.
She wanted him, too.
Pulling himself out of the pool, he shivered as too-cold temperatures replaced the warmth of the water. Grabbing the large, fluffy towel he'd left on a lounge chair, he dragged it over his wet head to remove the excess water from his hair, then wrapped the terry around his shoulders. He headed up the brick inlaid steps leading to his two-story house, and wasn't surprised to see his younger sister, Natalie, sitting at the small table in the kitchen nook that overlooked the landscaped backyard. As always, she'd made herself right at home and was reading his newspaper and drinking what he assumed was a mug of the coffee he'd made that morning. She saw him coning up the walkway, smiled gregariously, and waved.
He lifted a hand in greeting, but entered the house by way of a back door that led to one of the downstairs bathrooms, where he took a quick shower, washed his hair, and changed into the sweatshirt and jeans he'd left there earlier. Leaving his hair damp and finger-combed away from his face, he grabbed his socks and sneakers and headed into the kitchen to see his sister. 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, whatreally 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.