by Anna DePalo
“My sister Mia could tell you all about overprotective parents.” Jordan gave Sera a half smile.
She thought back to her brief conversation with Jordan’s sister on set the other day, then sighed as she remembered something else from the taping. “I hope your mother isn’t still expecting me to teach you how to cook.”
Jordan flashed her a teasing look. “Don’t worry—”
“Phew! What a relief.” So why did she feel disappointed suddenly?
“I’ve gotten you off the hook by telling her that I’d ask you to attend a wedding with me.”
Sera’s mind went blank. “Wait—what?”
“A wedding. I avoid them like the plague—”
“Of course you do.”
“—but this one I have to attend. It’s a cousin, and Mom is all about family.”
Well, that might explain why all the Serenghettis were in town—Mia from New York, where she was based, and Rick and Chiara from Los Angeles. They were here for a wedding—as well as to throw moral support behind Camilla and bear witness to Sera’s on-screen chemistry with the family’s baddest bad boy.
“That is some stealthy maneuvering, Serenghetti,” Sera said in her sternest voice.
“It was Mom’s idea.”
“What!”
“She suggested I bring you to the wedding instead.” Jordan shrugged too casually. “Because I was planning to fly solo.”
“She makes a good accomplice,” Sera muttered.
Jordan gave a short laugh. “She’s desperate.”
“For ratings, or to get you paired up with a woman who likes to use her brain?”
“Maybe both.” Jordan schooled his expression. “You have to come with me to the wedding. I’m too injured to find a date.”
“Please. You’d be able to find a date even from a hospital bed.”
“You’re giving me too much credit.”
“Modesty. What a refreshing change for you,” she teased. “So I’m a last resort?”
He looked like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar. “And a first.”
She searched his expression, saw only earnestness and then felt warmth suffuse her.
She didn’t want to be number one in Jordan’s book—did she?
Ten
The last place Sera wanted to be was at an event with more Serenghettis—and yet here she was.
She’d been to enough get-togethers at Marisa and Cole’s house or Serg and Camilla’s to know the Serenghettis welcomed everyone and anyone. But once a social event ventured into cousin or—heaven help her—even second-cousin territory, like today’s wedding, she knew she was in deep. In fact, she’d just met another of Jordan’s second cousins, Gia Serenghetti, so now she knew the family’s inside joke about the rhyming Mia and Gia “twins.”
Still, Sera had to admit the colonial mansion outside Springfield, Massachusetts, was a picture-perfect setting for a June wedding. She’d decided to wear a sleeveless shimmering emerald sheath dress for the evening affair, and she’d caught back her hair in a jeweled clip for a low ponytail.
Jordan’s gaze lit as it settled on her again from across the lawn, where he stood chatting with some fellow guests during the postceremony cocktail reception, while the bride and groom, Constance Marche and Oliver Serenghetti, posed for picturesque photos on the lawn. His perusal was a slow burn, full of promises and possibilities as it skimmed her curves.
As she took a sip of champagne, Sera could almost read the thoughts chasing through his mind. She was a flame dancing in the warm breeze of his appreciation. Wow.
Still, she felt like a phony. An impostor. She wasn’t really Jordan’s girlfriend or even his date. She was here as a fill-in, to avoid a cooking lesson that had been asked for on air. And to help Dante. And...nothing more.
She was so far from getting married herself, she might as well have been in a different galaxy. Neil had seen to that. And it wasn’t as if she and Jordan would ever walk down the aisle. Her heart squeezed, nevertheless. She’d gotten misty-eyed at the exchange of vows earlier. It had been so beautiful, so perfect. The couple caught in the beams of the evening sun behind them and outlined by a trellis with climbing flowers. She couldn’t think of a better arrangement if she’d been planning her own ceremony—not that it was in the cards.
On top of it, Marisa kept shooting her quizzical looks—as if her cousin, too, was puzzled about what to make of today and Sera’s agreement to appear on Jordan’s arm, especially since Sera had sworn that there was nothing romantic between her and Jordan. An appearance on Jordan’s mother’s show was one thing; a family wedding was another. That’s serious. Her cousin’s words echoed in her head.
Jordan approached, and Sera noticed again how he filled out his dark tailored suit. Only her well-trained eye could detect any lingering unevenness in his gait, since they were now more than two months postsurgery. In the past couple of weeks, since the cooking show, he’d grown stronger and more able with each physical-therapy session. Even she had been impressed at his progress. She knew from experience that there could be many unexpected stumbling blocks to recovery.
“I should never have agreed to this,” Sera murmured as Jordan stopped by her side.
He took a sip from his champagne. “Relax. It’s not as if we were caught having sex in the closet under the hall stairs.”
“There’s a closet under the stairs?” she squeaked. Why was she turned on? She wanted to fan herself and instead took another fortifying sip from her glass.
Jordan gave a strangled laugh. “Every old mansion has one.”
“There’s already open speculation in your family about what the status is between the two of us. I can read the looks on their faces, and they don’t even know—”
“—we got it going already?”
Sera nodded, her face warming. “This is getting complicated.”
“No, it’s simple. You don’t like me, and I’ve got a hard case of lust for you.”
“I’ve been rethinking that part,” she muttered.
“What?”
She cast him a sidelong look. “The part about how I don’t...don’t like you.”
Jordan fiddled with the knot of his tie. “Now you tell me?” he joked. “We’re at a wedding surrounded by a couple of hundred people. Some of them even related to me.”
“And whose fault is that?” she replied. “Isn’t there a closet under the stairs where we can hide?”
Jordan gave her a look of such longing and heat that Sera felt as if her clothes evaporated right off her.
He leaned close and whispered in her ear. “Hiding isn’t exactly what I had in mind.”
“Oh?” she asked breathlessly.
“What’s under that dress?”
“It’s got a built-in bra,” she answered hesitantly.
“Even better. One zipper? I want to know how easy it is to peel you out of it.”
“It’s on the back. But don’t you want to explore and find the exits on your own?”
Jordan took a deep swallow of his drink. “We could do this.”
This was so crazy. They were actually contemplating if they could duck inside the mansion for a quickie.
“Dinner will start soon,” she tried.
“We won’t be missed.”
“Is that why you waited till now? Because disappearing from the ceremony would have been too noticeable?” She really needed a fan.
One side of his mouth rose in a slight smile. “You think you were saved by the wedding bell?”
“Maybe you’ve been.” Jordan was a no-strings kind of guy—it would be lethal if he was caught getting it on with her, of all people, and here, of all places.
“Angel, it’s not salvation...yet. It’s purgatory right now.”
Sera forced a laugh. “Hey, you invited me to this event
. I’m sure all your relatives aside from your mother are surprised you’re here with a date.” Me.
“Let them wonder all they want. It’s been way too long.”
“Since you’ve been at a wedding?”
“Since the two of us have been all over each other with lust,” he responded bluntly.
Sera sucked in a breath.
“Don’t tell me you haven’t been wondering, too,” Jordan continued in a low, deep voice. “Fantasizing about whether the chemistry that night in my apartment was a fluke or we’re really that good together.”
In fact, she had. She’d been working hard to keep up her defenses, but it hadn’t worked. She was having trouble remembering why she shouldn’t like him. “Okay, I have. But it’s unprofessional of me—”
Jordan gave a dismissive laugh.
“—and wrong.” Dangerous, even. To her peace of mind.
He took the champagne flute from her hand and set it down on a nearby table along with his own glass. Then taking her hand, he said, “Come on.”
She looked startled. “What? Where? Why?”
“You forgot when and how.” He tossed her a wicked glance as they headed toward the back of the mansion. “When is now, and the answer to how is that there’s a cloakroom off the main hall on the ground floor that isn’t being used because it’s summer and no one brought a coat. It’s also bigger than the closet under the stairs.”
Sera’s quick indrawn breath was audible. Still, excitement bubbled up within her. They were playing with fire, but she felt alive, all her senses awakened.
They slipped inside the house without drawing attention, and in line with Jordan’s expectations, the short hallway to the cloakroom was deserted. He opened the half door and then led her toward the shadowed recesses.
The minute they reached the back wall, his mouth was on hers.
Finally. She exulted in being in his arms again. She’d fought the good fight against his charm, but everything except this moment receded into the background.
Their mixed sighs filled the empty room as the kiss deepened. She tunneled her fingers into his hair, and he pulled her closer. All her soft curves pressed into his hard, lean physique, molding to him.
His scent was so good, his taste even better. And her senses stirred with his kiss, which was hot, warm and enticing.
When the kiss finally broke off, Jordan skimmed his mouth across her cheek and nuzzled her temple before his breath settled around the delicate shell of her ear, giving her goosebumps and making her weak with awareness.
“Your dress has been driving me crazy all evening,” he muttered.
“It’s not meant to make men wild with lust.”
He gave a strangled laugh. “That keyhole cutout that shows your cleavage. All I wanted to do was this—” he reached to her nape, and her zipper rasped downward “—and bare your gorgeous breasts.”
She leaned against the wall, her breath hissing out of her as the top of her gown sagged. She wanted—
In the next moment, Jordan unerringly gave her what she was seeking—cupping her exposed breast and running his thumb over the pebbled peak.
“You’re so responsive, Sera,” he whispered, his voice reverent.
She shifted, brushing against his erection, and they both sighed.
Jordan bent and covered her breast with his mouth, and her hands tunneled through his hair as she gave herself up to waves of sensation that carried her closer to a shore of paradise...
Suddenly, there was the sound of a door opening, and Sera froze, yanked from a wonderful reverie.
Jordan straightened, and they hastily moved apart.
Sera’s gaze met Jordan’s in the shadows, and he pulled her closer, yanking the top of her dress back into place as he did so.
“Shh,” he whispered into her ear.
Obediently, she stood still, hoping not to be noticed.
“I’ll be back in New York on Monday,” a woman’s voice said. “We can discuss it then.”
Jordan relaxed, his hold on her easing.
Sera thought it sounded like—
“Thanks, Sonia.” There was a rustle, as if someone was fiddling with her purse.
In the next moment, the cloakroom was flooded with light as someone flipped a switch.
“Jordan.”
Sera suppressed a groan. It was definitely Jordan’s sister.
“Mia.”
While Jordan stayed pressed against her for obvious reasons, Sera looked sideways over her shoulder at his sister, who wore an amused expression.
“I was just helping Sera with her dress.” Jordan shrugged. “Stuck zipper.”
“Of course,” Mia played along. “You don’t need to tell me. As a fashion designer, I’ve seen dozens. Hundreds, even. Those darn zippers. The pesky things give the worst trouble at the most inconvenient moments.”
“Right,” Jordan agreed.
“Sometimes a zipper will open easily but get stuck closing, or the reverse. Was the zipper going up or down?”
“For God’s sake, Mia.”
Sera’s face flamed. Could things get more mortifying? And of course, it had to be one of Jordan’s siblings who walked in on them.
“What are you doing here, Mia?” Jordan asked, going on the offensive.
“I could ask the same thing of you, big brother. But for the record, I was looking for a quiet place to take a call and just wandered in this direction right when the call was ending.” Mia arched a brow. “And I’m going to assume you two came this way looking for a sewing kit...to fix Sera’s dress.”
Sera’s hands flew to her cheeks.
Mia laughed. “Don’t worry, your secret is safe with me.” She gestured near her mouth as if turning a key in her lips and throwing it away.
“Thanks, sis.”
Mia winked at them and then flipped the light switch and threw them into darkness again.
A moment later, Sera heard footsteps receding down the hall. She collapsed against Jordan with a small sound of relief, even though she wasn’t sure how much longer she could stand their sexual frustration.
* * *
As Jordan drove her home after the wedding, Sera was a bundle of tingling awareness. They’d managed to keep their hands off each other and the PDAs to a minimum through the wedding dinner and dancing and socializing, but the tension had built...and built.
Yes, she’d been embarrassed about being caught in a clinch by Mia. And she hoped that Jordan’s sister could keep a secret. But she and Jordan were playing with fire, and it just fueled their sizzling attraction.
They got out of his car and made their way to her building, enjoying the fresh air on this warm and balmy night. There was no question she was inviting him upstairs and inside. In the hall outside her front door, she handed him her keys, and the gesture—a mere brush of the fingers—was electric.
When Jordan pushed open the door, Sera entered the silent apartment and turned on a dim lamp. She hadn’t changed much of Marisa’s decor for the two-bedroom apartment, which had a retro vibe—right down to the Unblemished Yellow wall paint that her cousin had used to give a face-lift to the old kitchen cabinets. She was home, and yet her place had never felt less relaxed. Instead, the air was charged with sexual tension.
She heard every rustle as she set down her evening bag on a console table and Jordan followed her. With a remote, she switched on some flameless candles that sat on a chest in her living room and then turned and nearly collided with Jordan’s chest.
He ducked his head and kissed her—all sexy and lingering.
Sera leaned into the kiss. She wanted to taste him, lick him, be enveloped by him.
When they broke apart, he gazed into her eyes. “I want you, Sera. I can’t stop thinking about you.”
And just like that, the shackles broke, and Sera was in h
is arms, kissing him back and pressing closer, desperate to pick up where they had left off earlier in the evening.
“Jordan,” she breathed.
He smoothed his hands along her curves and skimmed kisses from her mouth to the side of her neck.
She’d resisted him for weeks but had nevertheless felt herself sliding into an attraction that she could not deny. He’d been hard to ignore—at physical therapy, on his mother’s cooking show, in the hospital, and now at a wedding—and impossible to resist. He’d seduced her in the process, teasing her out of her shell.
He tugged on the zipper at the back of her dress and it rasped downward, her breasts spilling against him out of the built-in bra.
Bracing his good knee on a nearby ottoman, he bent and drew her closer. Running his hand up her calf in a light caress, he pulled one breast into his mouth.
She held his head close, her eyes falling shut. Bliss. The sensations were so acute, so exquisite, and she knew it all had to do with him and their burning, simmering desire for each other.
Jordan transferred his attention to her other breast, and Sera moaned.
He slid his hands up her legs, pushing up the hem of her dress, and then hooked his hands inside the band of her panties and pulled them down.
Sera braced her hands on his shoulders.
He murmured sweet encouragement and words of appreciation. “I’ve wanted you so long. Waited for you.”
Me, too.
It was her last thought before he tugged her down to the ottoman, where she lay back, bracing herself on her elbows as he bent in front of her.
He ran his hands up and down her thighs in a delicious caress. Eventually, he found her with his mouth, and a strangled cry was torn from her lips. She lost all sense of time, just letting herself feel all the wicked things that he was doing to her. And then suddenly, her climax was upon her in a bright burst of energy.
She spasmed, riding an intense crest of pleasure that went on and on until she floated down and went limp against him.