TANTALIZING

by Lori Foster

  Susan stood staring out the front window, a small smile on her face. Josie couldn't help but smile, too. As heartsick and disillusioned as she felt, she was glad for her sister. Susan deserved a little happiness, regardless of the cost. "Hey, sis? Anyone home in there?"

  Susan turned to her, one brow raised. "I'm sorry. I was thinking."

  "Gee, I wonder about what."

  Seeing Susan blush was a novelty. Normally Josie would have teased her endlessly. Today she just didn't have it in her. "Will you call him and thank him for the candy?"

  Susan's blush vanished and her brows drew together in that stern look she had. "Of course not. Why don't you just thank him for me when you reset your date?"

  "Susan..."

  "Now, Josie, you promised you'd give him another chance. Don't back out on me now."

  Josie rolled her eyes, trying to cover her discomfort. Susan could be so stubborn once she'd got her mind set. "Just once, why don't you do what you want instead of thinking about me?"

  Susan looked nonplussed. "Why, because you're my sister, of course. And he'd make you the perfect husband, Josie. I just know it."

  Josie quelled the churning in her belly and smiled. "You can't dictate love, Susan. It happens when you least expect it." If her words sounded a little uncertain, a little sad, Susan didn't notice.

  "But you haven't even given him a chance!" Josie closed her eyes, not wanting Susan to see the guilt there. She hated lying to her sister.

  Susan huffed. "For the life of me I don't understand your attitude, Josie. He's a terrific man."

  "I know. Perfect."

  "Well, he is!" Susan crossed her arms over her chest and glared. Josie knew what that meant. "At least go out with him once. Just once. If you're truly not interested, then I'll accept it."

  Though she knew it was a mistake, Josie saw no way around it. "And you'll admit that you're the one who's attracted?"

  "I didn't say that."

  "Susan." There was pure warning in Josie's tone.

  Throwing up her arms, Susan conceded. "Oh, all right. If nothing comes of your date, I'll...consider him for myself. But trust me, Josie, you'll adore him. It's just that you don't know what you're missing."

  But Josie did know. She only wished she didn't.

  "I'M GLAD YOU DECIDED to come in for a few hours."

  "A few minutes, not hours." Nick went past Bob, who was lingering in the lobby of the building that housed their offices. Each of them had his own space, connected by a doorway that almost always remained open. They shared access to the numerous pieces of computer and graphic equipment they used. "Do I look like I'm dressed for the office?" he added.

  Bob eyed his tan khaki slacks and polo shirt. "Not particularly, but with you I'm never sure."

  Nick thought about being offended, since he always wore a suit to the office, but he didn't bother. At present, he had other things on his mind. "I'm only going to pick up the Ferguson file. I thought I'd look it over tonight and see if I come up with any ideas."

  Bob trailed behind him, a fresh cup of coffee in his hand. "We don't have to make a presentation on that job for some time yet."

  "I know, but I have the night free." Nick caught Bob's censuring look and shook his head. "Lighten up, Bob. It's Saturday. The work will still be here come Monday."

  "Actually I was amazed you have Saturday night free. That's a rare occurrence, isn't it?"

  Nick shrugged. He had no intention of explaining to Bob what he wasn't sure he understood himself. Josie hadn't in any way asked him to restrict his dating habits, but he'd done so anyway. And in the back of his mind lurked the worry that she might not be so considerate. He wasn't used to worrying about a woman, and he didn't like it. What pressing business did she have between now and Sunday?

  Not that knowing would alter his decision. He didn't want to see anyone except Josie, and besides, after the day's activities, he was too tired to go out, but too restless to sleep. And sitting in his house had about driven him crazy. He kept remembering everything about her – her hot scent, the incredible feel of her skin, the way she moaned so sweetly when he—

  He jerked open another drawer and shuffled files around. He was damn tired of torturing himself with those memories. He needed a distraction in the worst way and the Ferguson account would have to be it.

  With his head buried in a filing drawer, he heard a knock and then Bob opened the outer door to speak to someone. Nick twisted to try to see who had entered, but only managed to get a peek of a large basket of flowers and greenery. He blinked, lifted his head and smacked it hard on the open drawer above him. "Damn it!"

  "You okay?"

  "I'll live." Rubbing the top of his head, he sauntered over to where Bob stood opening a small envelope. "What's this?"

  Bob grinned, still holding the card. "I sent Susan some chocolates. I guess she decided to send me flowers."

  "Flowers, huh?" He looked at the basket with interest. No woman had ever sent him flowers. He fingered a bright green leaf, intrigued and a tad jealous. "Hey, the plants are alive. What do you know?"

  "Umm..." Bob hastily stuck the card back in the envelope. "I think these were meant for you."

  "Me?"

  "Yeah. The card says, 'Bob,' but Josie sent them. I take it you didn't come clean with her yet?"

  Half pleased over the gesture of the plant, and half embarrassed to still be caught in his lie, Nick rolled back on his heels and looked at the ceiling. "I tried. But she didn't want to do any serious talking. The timing wasn't right. We decided we'd clear the air tomorrow afternoon. We're doing lunch and a movie."

  "But that's when we play poker. You've never missed a Sunday!"

  Nick was well acquainted with his own routine; he didn't need Bob to run it into the ground. "I'll miss it tomorrow."

  "But ... this is unprecedented! You never change your plans for a woman!"

  Nick ground his teeth, frustrated with the truth of that. And it wasn't even Josie who had asked him to change his plans; he'd done so on his own. But he didn't regret it. And that was the strangest thing of all.

  Bob was staring at him, assessing, and Nick forced a shrug, not about to reveal his discomfort. "So tomorrow will be a first."

  It took him a second, and then Bob managed to collect himself. He looked away, and mumbled, "Maybe not. Here, you should probably read this."

  Nick watched Bob hustle out of the room after thrusting the card at him. He discreetly closed the door behind him. Nick looked at the plant again. A live plant with flowers somehow stuck in it. It was pretty and he felt absurdly touched by the gesture.

  He opened the envelope and began to read.

  Dear Bob,

  Yesterday I wasn't myself. If you ever met the real me, you'd understand what I'm telling you. It wouldn't be right for me to see you ever again. If you truly want a continuing relationship, I suggest you call on Susan.

  All my best,

  Josie

  He read it twice, not quite believing the little fool would actually do such a thing, then he cursed. Storming out of the room, he went after Bob. He found him behind his desk, pretending to look over an ad campaign. "You sent Susan candy today, right?"

  "Well..."

  "And you had them delivered to her at her shop, am I right?"

  "Well..."

  "And you put your own damn name on it, instead of leaving it as a secret admirer like I suggested. Right?"

  "Well..."

  "Damn it, Bob, do you know what you've done? Do you know what that plant is? I'll tell you what it is. It's a damn kiss off plant. I'm getting dumped because Josie thinks I'm you and she apparently thinks I want Susan!"

  Bob shot to his feet "Well, whose brilliant idea was that? Not mine. I told you to tell her the truth."

  "And you promised me you'd give me a little time. If you'd gone with our original plan and played the secret admirer, none of this would have happened."

  "I'm no good at that stuff and you know it. I'd have been blushin
g every time I looked at her. It wouldn't have taken Susan five minutes tops to figure out the candy was from me. Then I'd have looked plain stupid."

  "You would have looked like a romantic."

  "Which I'm not. And I'd have ended up in the very position you're in right now."

  He had a point. Nick supposed every speck of fault could be laid at his own big feet, but that didn't help him to figure out what to do next. A sense of panic began to swell around him. He had to do something. "I should go see her."

  "Who, Susan?"

  Frustration mounted. "No, not Susan." He ran a hand through his hair, leaving it on end. "That woman hates me, remember? I meant Josie."

  "Do you know where she lives?"

  "I know which condo complex she's in, but not which condo." He looked at Bob hopefully. "You could get her exact address for me."

  "Forget it. Susan already thinks I should be interested in Josie, not her. The woman doesn't understand her own appeal. It took me forever this afternoon to get her to soften up a little, but she's still determined to get me and Josie together, no matter how I try to divert her. If I start asking for Josie's address now, she'll decide her intuition was right, and Susan will never give me the time of day. It'd be like taking three giant steps backward."

  God, what a mess. Nick thumped his fist against the desk. "Think about it, Bob. Susan wants you to pursue Josie, but you want Susan. I want Josie, but she thinks I'm you and courting her sister." He groaned, his stomach knotting as he thought of how Josie must feel, how hurt she must be right now. Would she think he'd merely used her last night? Hell, she probably hated him, and he couldn't blame her. He'd been a total ass.

  "So how are we going to fix things?"

  Nick closed his eyes wearily. "You can't ask Susan for Josie's address because she'll think you're hung up on Josie. I can't very well ask her for it, because odds are she wouldn't give it to me. I suppose I'll just have to go over there and start knocking on doors."

  "You're kidding, right?"

  Nick glared at him. "No, I'm dead serious. Unless you have a better idea?"

  "As a matter of fact, I do. I remember Susan mentioning a woman who heads up the decision committee for the condo. She has a nephew who does the yard work, and she monitors all the problems in the complex. She wanted some advice on inexpensive advertising for a small business she's recently started. She could probably tell you which condo is Josie's."

  Nick rubbed his hands together, finally feeling a little of the bizarre panic recede. Things would work out. They had to. No woman had ever thrown him off balance this way, and he wasn't used to it. He didn't know how to react, that's all. He needed just a little more time.

  He wanted to make love to her, to touch her. Her effect on him was unique, but considering how explosive they were together, it was understandable. At least to him. Hell, he got hot just thinking about her – yet she'd done the unprecedented and dumped him. "Give me her number."

  "I can do better than that." Bob rummaged in his drawer and then withdrew a pink business card. He handed it to Nick. "That's her address in the complex. From what I understood, she knows Josie pretty well. She can tell you which condo Josie lives in."

  Nick snapped the card twice with a finger, then slipped it into his pocket. He felt filled with relief, and iron determination. "If you wouldn't think ill of me, I'd kiss you."

  Bob pretended horror and ducked away. But Nick still managed to clap him on the shoulder, nearly knocking him into his desk.

  Josie Jackson didn't stand a chance. She might think things were all over – damn her and her ridiculous Dear John plant – but she was in for a rude awakening. She'd started this game with her short sexy skirt and taunting smile and unmistakable come-on. She could damn well finish it. But this time they'd play by his rules. No more holding back, and no more being called by another man's name. He'd find out exactly why Josie had showed up in the bar looking like an experienced femme fatale, when in truth she was as innocent as a lamb. He'd find out why she'd chosen him, of all men, to be her first lover. And then he'd take over.

  That had been his first mistake, giving up control. He'd let her think she was calling the shots and hadn't been up-front with her. Things had gotten way out of hand. But no more.

  He went back to the inner offices, collected his plant with the big bow and colorful flowers and saluted Bob on his way out.

  He left the Ferguson file behind.

  EVERY NEIGHBOR in the complex had come to stare at him sometime during the day. But he hadn't budded under, he simply stared back. They had the advantage, though, because most of them, he figured, had to be myopic – being stared at wasn't as personal for them, or as unsettling. That's if they could see him at all. Some of Josie's neighbors wore thick glasses, most of them had watery eyes of a pale shade.

  Not a single one of them was under seventy.

  At first he'd loitered around Josie's door, waiting, wishing he could peek in through a window, but not willing to risk having the neighbors converge on him in righteous indignation. But she hadn't come home. So he wandered around outside, looking at the neatly kept grounds, the symmetry of each building. He'd drawn too much attention there, so he'd waited for a while in his car. That got too hot, causing his frustration to escalate.

  Where the hell was she? Mrs. Wiley, that little old white-haired grandma who wanted to advertise her Golden Goodies home parties for seniors, hadn't minded in the least if he waited. In fact, she'd wanted him to wait with her while she explained her home-sale ventures. He'd made a red-faced escape, unable to discuss with any dignity the prospects of advertising her product. She'd managed to press a colorful catalog on him before he got out, but he hadn't really looked at it yet. He couldn't quite work up the nerve.

  Mrs. Wiley had seemed innocent enough, pleasantly plump in a voluptuous sort of way, with neatly styled silver-white hair and a smile that had probably melted many a man in her day. She'd used that damn smile to get him to agree to work on an advertising plan for her. Something simple and cheap, she'd said, and he'd known she was using her age to her advantage, trying to look old and frail. Nick had fallen for the ploy, hook, line and sinker. But how the hell did you advertise seductive novelties for the elderly?

  He was sitting on the front stoop, staring out at the sunset and still pondering the issue of Mrs. Wiley's problem, when Josie finally pulled into the parking lot. He almost didn't recognize her at first, not in her small dull-brown car, with her hair pinned up and no makeup. She looked like a teenager, young and perky, not hot and sultry. He gawked, knew he gawked, but couldn't do a damn thing about it. In no way did she resemble the male fantasy that had turned him inside out last night.

  He quirked a brow. In many ways, he admitted, she looked even better.

  Josie Jackson made one hell of a good-looking frump.

  He cleared his throat and stood. She hadn't yet noticed him. Stepping back from her car in her jeans and white sneakers, her arms filled with grocery bags, she looked like a typical homemaker. Not a sex symbol.

  His muscles tightened. "Josie."

  She stopped, but she couldn't see over the bags. Motionless for several moments, she finally lowered one of the bags enough to glare at him. Her expression didn't bode well. "What are you doing here?"

  "Setting things straight."

  Her cheeks colored and her beautiful eyes narrowed. "Didn't you get my message?"

  His nod was slow and concise. "I got it. But I'm not letting you dump me with a damn plant."

  The bags started to slip out of her arms and he made a grab for them. "Here, let me help you. We need to talk."

  "There's nothing to talk about."

  He took the bags despite her resistance. "Yes, there is. And we might as well do it inside rather than out here entertaining our audience."

  Audience referred to three older women hiding behind some bushes and two men who pretended to be chatting with each other, but were keeping a close watch. Josie didn't seem to notice any of t
hem. She looked blank-faced and flustered and hostile. After she closed up her car, she lifted one hand to her hair, but curled it into a fist and let it drop to her side. She seemed equal parts confused, angry and embarrassed.

  "Josie?"

  Her shoulders stiffened. "You've, um, taken me by surprise."

  He grinned. "So I have." His voice dropped to an intimate level. "I missed you, honey. You look wonderful."

  She snorted at that and started off for the condo at a brisk marching pace. He kept up, enjoying the sight of her backside in tight jeans, her exposed neck and the few stray curls that bounced with her every step. By the time she reached her door, a spot now very familiar to Nick, she had slowed to a crawl. She stood facing the door, not speaking, not looking at him.

  His heart thudded and his determination doubled. "Unlock it, Josie."

  Still with her back to him, she muttered, "The thing is, I really don't want you inside."

  Brushing his lips against her nape, he felt her shiver. "I like your hair up like this. It's sexy." He kept his tone soft and convincing, reassuring her. "Of course, you could wear a ski mask and I'd think you were sexy."

  A choked sound escaped her and she stiffened even more. "You're being ridiculous. I look like a...a..."

  "A busy woman? Well, you are. Nothing wrong with that."

  Her shoulders stiffened as she drew a deep breath. "I don't want to see you again."

  The bottom dropped out of his stomach, but he pressed forward anyway. "I think I can change your mind. Just give me a chance to explain."

  "You're not going to go away, are you?"

  It was his turn to snort.

  "Oh, all right." She jerked out the key and jammed it into the lock. "But don't say I didn't try to discourage you."

  He stayed right on her heels in case she tried to slam the door in his face, and almost bumped into her cute little behind as she bent to put her purse on an entry table. He remembered that bottom fondly, petting it, kissing the soft mounds, gripping the silky flesh to hold her close.