by Rita Herron
"Sounds perfect," he said, wondering why the thought of some stupid kids teasing Jenna bothered him. For all he knew, she'd lived a pampered childhood.
He whipped the Triumph into a parking spot in front of the Italian restaurant and climbed out. By the time Jenna unwrapped her scarf and brushed though her hair, he had opened her door.
Five minutes later they were seated in a cozy corner table, surrounded by candlelight, soft music, and the incredible aromas of Italian cuisine.
"I'll have the linguine," Jenna said, closing her menu.
He fiddled with the gingham napkin, studying the menu in detail. Should he have the ravioli, clam pasta, spinach lasagna... anything to divert his eyes from Jenna's not so subtle curves.
"Zack?" She tapped her gold watch. "Maybe we'd better order. I only have an hour. Angel has a doctor's appointment this afternoon."
"Oh, right." The pregnant friend. All he had to do was keep her swollen figure in his mind and he'd be okay. Then he glanced at Jenna and an image of her pregnant, her stomach softly curved, and her cheeks aglow, sprang into this mind. It was a beautiful, erotic sight.
He shook himself, his face breaking out into a cold sweat. Erotic? Since when had he ever thought a pregnant woman's body was sensual?
"Zack, are you all right?" Jenna brushed her fingers over his hands. "You look pale."
"I'm fine," he said, more curtly than he'd intended. He snapped his menu shut. The waiter arrived and took their orders, and they decided to have a glass of wine to toast their business deal.
"I like the drawings," Jenna said without preamble. "But it's not quite—"
"Exactly as you'd imagined," he finished for her.
She blushed. "Something like that."
"I know," Zack said. "I was having a hard time. Like I said, I usually get to know my clients before I take on a project. It helps me get a feel for what they want."
"Hmm." Jenna sipped her wine, her gaze darting to her napkin nervously. "So, what is it you want to know about me? I mean, Mark probably gave you an earful, just like he told me about you."
"Actually, Mark didn't tell me much," Zack said, shifting uncomfortably. "Except that you were a nice girl and to behave around you."
Jenna's eyes widened. "He told you that?"
Zack grinned. "Yeah."
Jenna sighed. "Sounds like my big brother."
"Protective, huh?"
"That's putting it mildly."
He took a sip of the Chablis. He couldn't blame her brother. For some odd reason, Jenna stirred his own protective instincts.
Unfortunately she stirred his libido, too.
"So what did he tell you about me—that I was the big bad wolf?"
Jenna laughed. "Something like that."
"He warned you to stay away from me?"
She nodded. "He didn't think we'd make a good match." She bit down on her bottom lip and he had the urge to reach out and touch it.
Instead, he tore off a chunk of bread and slathered butter on the side. "Well, so far we haven't killed each other."
"He probably thought we had nothing in common."
"How do you figure that?"
Jenna hesitated as the waiter delivered their salads, and didn't answer, so Zack broke the awkward silence. "We have a few things in common. We both own small businesses."
Jenna nibbled on her salad. "That's true."
"And we both like Italian food."
"And wine," Jenna said, raising her glass.
He clinked his with hers and smiled. "Tell me why you chose the Love 'N Lace."
Jenna dropped her gaze to her food, thoughtful for a minute. When she finally raised her head, a troubled expression darkened her eyes for a brief second, then joy and pride replaced it. She toyed with the emerald stone, her fingers caressing the jewel.
He wondered who had given it to her. An old boyfriend?
"I grew up in a small town in North Carolina," she finally said. "My folks were great. I think we were among the few families in town that didn't go through a divorce."
"Tell me about it," Zack said with a wry laugh.
Jenna paused and gave him a sympathetic look. "I'm sorry, Zack."
He waved off her sympathy and gestured for her to continue while he ate his salad.
"Anyway, I had some trouble in school," she said slowly. She lowered her voice. "My dad was supportive, always encouraged me to do my best. And Mom was always so supportive, but she worried a lot about me." She ran her finger around the stem of her water glass. "And my brother Jeff—well, he was always so perfect. An athlete, always made it to State in swimming. All A's. Popular."
Zack's fingers tightened around his own glass as he studied her. "You didn't make good grades?"'
Jenna shrugged, toying with her necklace again. "I struggled early on because of my hearing problem, but eventually I made the honor roll."
God, she was so damn beautiful. "Don't tell me you weren't popular?"
For a moment, Jenna's gaze dropped to her lap again and he sensed some dark hurt lingering inside her. Then she smiled and the moment was gone.
"Actually, I was incredibly shy. I attended a special school when I was young, then underwent surgery to repair my hearing loss, then speech therapy... it was a difficult time for all of us. When I finally was mainstreamed into school, it was hard not to feel different."
He swallowed, but he felt like he had a hunk of lettuce caught in his throat. His damn eyes watered and he had to chug his glass of water to keep from having a coughing fit. Thank goodness Jenna didn't notice. She sipped her wine and stared at the colorful artwork on the wall.
"Jeff was protective of me, but when he left for college I realized I'd always been in his shadow. That I depended on him too much." She cleared her throat and met his gaze, her eyes steady. "So I got a job at this clothing boutique and loved it. The lady I worked for turned me on to fashion and I discovered clothes made a difference in the way others looked at me." She gave a self-deprecating laugh. "That probably sounds shallow, but teenagers can be brutal sometimes."
"You're right about that." Some of the guys in school had ribbed him constantly about his string of stepmothers.
But Jenna's problem had been more serious. She'd mentioned the surgery as if it had been nothing, but it had to have been traumatic. The fact that she'd overcome those obstacles stirred his admiration.
She tore off a piece of bread for herself. "Then I attended a small college, Appalachian State up in North Carolina, earned a business degree and decided to open my own shop. And here I am."
"Yes, here you are," Zack said, his voice thick with emotions. Beautiful, smart, sexy—and looking for a freaking husband.
"I see. You had the perfect family so you want to have one just like it?" he asked, suddenly edgy as memories of his own disjointed childhood hit him.
Her smile faded, and she reached out and touched his hand. "My family wasn't perfect, Zack. But yes, I want to have my own children so I can nurture them the way my family loved me. I feel sorry for people who didn't have that type of love in their lives."
Zack exhaled, willing his cynicism in check while the waiter served their entrees. "Most don't," he said curtly.
"Mark doesn't seem to share your opinions about marriage," Jenna pointed out.
Zack shrugged. "Ever the optimist."
"And you're not?" Jenna shook her head. "I don't buy that, Zack. You're creative. Anybody with an artistic bone in their body is a dreamer by nature." Her expression softened. "Although sometimes artists see the deep, painful side of life, too. Maybe they feel it more than others."
He shook his head in denial. Jesus, she made him sound like some kind of sensitive Beta guy.
"I'm not a wimp—"
"Being sensitive is not the same as being a wimp," Jenna said, irritation lacing her voice. "It means thinking, seeing, feeling—"
"Feeling what?" he asked snidely. "Hopeful every time your old man walked down the aisle, thinking this would be the one? T
hat finally you'd have a family?"
A heartbeat of silence passed between them. "How many times has your dad been married?" Jenna asked softly.
"Six or seven," Zack said. "But who's counting? They never last."
"Mark and Colleen are going to make it."
"This is ridiculous," Zack said. "And it's not helping me with your ad campaign."
Jenna hesitated, then picked up her fork and twirled the linguini around it. "You're right." She glanced at her watch. "And the hour is about up. We'd better finish lunch."
She quickly reviewed his sketches and offered some helpful comments, but then she ordered a chocolate mousse for dessert and insisted he share.
While they ate, she made small talk about the movies she'd seen, the kind of music she liked, and he realized they had more in common. They both liked jazz music and mystery novels, long walks on the beach and... chocolate.
Watching her lick the whipped cream from the spoon and devour the dark chocolate was torture. She closed her eyes and moaned, savoring the rich concoction, and other erotic images taunted him.
Jenna in her store, modeling some of her naughtiest lingerie... a private showing just for him. Champagne, candlelight, soft jazz music wafting around them, Jenna lying on a bed of lacy pillows wearing nothing but a dollop of whipped cream...
By the time dessert was over, his irritation had faded into profound lust, and he was so aroused physically he wondered how he'd be able to stand when they left the restaurant. Every time her tongue reached out and licked the creamy dessert from her spoon, he imagined tasting her lips. And when their eyes met he felt as if she could see inside him, rip away the layers he'd built around himself as a child, and somehow make him whole.
Damn it, why couldn't he stop this insane attraction to her?
He paid the bill, confused over the emotions she stirred inside him and aching with desire as he drove them back to Jenna's shop. The afternoon heat blazed down on them as he walked her to the door of the Love 'N Lace, but he tried to stifle the heat inside him, heat that made him want to kiss Jenna.
She paused to look up at him at the door, and he froze, wondering if she sensed his hunger—for her.
"I really had a nice time," Jenna said. "I'm anxious to see the final ad campaign."
He immediately pictured the sketches of her in the tub and all traces of sanity vanished. A tiny drop of chocolate lingered in the corner of her mouth, and he wiped it away with one finger. He brought the tip of his finger to his own mouth and licked it off, and their eyes locked, tension rippling between them.
Then her lips parted on a soft sigh, and her tongue flicked out to wet her rosy mouth, and he was sunk. If it wasn't an invitation, it was at least a silent moment of surrender.
He pulled her into his arms and claimed her mouth with his own. She groaned as he crushed her lips with a mind-boggling kiss that made his heart race. Maybe the woman was determined to marry someone, to dedicate herself to a house full of babies and some lucky man, he thought, but he couldn't let her go without tasting her at least once.
But would once be enough?
Jenna's heart fluttered like a million butterflies on a sunny spring day as Zack's warm mouth captured hers. She grabbed his arms for support, digging her nails into the corded muscles of his arms as his tongue probed her lips apart and plundered her mouth.
He tasted like wine and chocolate and sin all in one delicious, unbelievably passionate package. Her legs buckled and she felt lightheaded as they fell against the door and nearly knocked it open. The doorknob must have hit him in the side and he grunted, shifting so his back was plastered within the frame of the glass door. The sign above the store swayed in the wind, making a clicking sound as their bodies pressed into it and the glass rattled.
Zack's large frame enveloped her, his hard muscles bulging against the soft pliant curves of her body, and her senses sizzled with excitement, her throat burning as he stole the air from her lungs. His hands curved around her hips, drawing her against him, and she moaned when she felt his hard sex press into her abdomen.
A low guttural sound tore through him and he dragged his hands over her buttocks, up her back and then settled them at her waist. Heat engulfed her and she closed her eyes, savoring his manly scent, her nipples puckering as she ran her tongue over the edge of his lips.
Then he pulled away and stared at her, his caramel eyes glazed with hunger and need, his breath ragged. She swallowed, struggling for air, wondering why he didn't just take her inside and finish what he'd started.
But a car horn sounded behind them and the store door suddenly swung open. She and Zack almost toppled inside. Angel stood wide-eyed, her mouth agape.
Good heavens! They had been making out like rabid teenagers, and Angel had seen their every move through the door. She glanced quickly inside, scanning the Love 'N Lace, her cheeks flaming. But thankfully the store was empty, so she hadn't been ravaging the man in front of her customers.
"Don't let me disturb you," Angel said with a giggle. Then she quickly shut the door.
Mortified, Jenna faced Zack, the imprint of his mouth still firmly entrenched in her mind, her body a quivering mass of unexplored passion.
"Uh, I... I'm sorry," Zack said. Sweat trickled down his handsome face while his mouth worked furiously into an apology of sorts. "I shouldn't have—"
"It's okay," she said softly, touching her fingers to her swollen lips. She'd never been kissed like that, not like heaven and hell, not so she'd lost her wits in public.
His hands shook as he ran them through his dark blond hair, and she realized with a heady sense of power that she'd never made a man tremble before.
"No, it's not okay. It was stupid and foolish... and embarrassing." He backed away, his expression troubled, and she flinched at his choice of words. She'd always felt as if she'd embarrassed her family, her brother... they'd never said so, but—
"You're a client and I told myself I wasn't going to screw things up." He winced, as if he realized his poor word choice. "I'm sorry. It's my fault. It can't happen again, absolutely not."
Jenna simply stared at him as he bolted and jogged to his car. His backside looked incredibly enticing as he fumbled with the door and an image of Zack wearing the Bee-Stinger flooded her mind, sending her senses spinning with naughty thoughts. Hmm, what size would he wear, medium—large? She couldn't resist a wicked smile.
"I'll call you when I get something else worked up," he called with a shaky wave.
She grinned. He was already worked up—and he'd definitely need a large.
But his face tensed and he looked as if he was in pain as he folded his long legs into the small sports car. Then he scratched the back of his neck with long vicious strokes as if he had a sudden case of poison ivy.
A second later, he tore out of the parking lot, leaving the scent of burning rubber and lost lust in his wake.
* * *
"So, how's it going with Jenna and the campaign?" Mark asked Zack as they jogged their usual course through the park.
Zack grunted, concentrating on putting one foot in front of the other and working his body until he dropped from exhaustion. He'd hoped Mark would spend the evening boring him with office politics, as he usually did, but marriage had changed him. Now he wanted to talk about people and relationships and feelings—damn.
"What did you say, bro? I didn't hear you."
"Fine, I said it's going fine," Zack said, swiping at the stream of sweat trickling down his arm. "We had lunch today and discussed my sketches for her ad." And I kissed her senseless and made a fool out of myself.
"She has a good knack for business, don't you think?"
"Yeah, great." And a knack for turning me inside out.
They passed a blonde and brunette on the trail, the same two women they'd seen countless times before on their evening workouts, and Zack turned slightly when the brunette grinned at him.He should follow her, strike up a conversation, sate his needs with a little light bantering,
maybe a one-nighter with no strings. The kind of night that didn't require a commitment. After all, her tight pink spandex shorts and white sports bra left little to the imagination, her flirty smile seemed inviting, just as it had the other times he'd seen her.
But he kept running, knowing he hadn't felt a single spark ignite within his body when she'd looked at him. What was wrong with him?
He must be overworked. Stressed over his business. Tomorrow he had to meet with a new client, to discuss his product... laundry detergent, of all things. It sounded boring, but if he landed the account, it could mean big money. The difference between stability and scraping by from month to month for the next year. And God knows he needed stability.
"Jenna mention that class she's taking?" Mark asked.
Zack's foot hit a rock and he stumbled, then swore.
Zack forced himself to slow down. Sometimes he forgot his legs were four inches longer than Mark's. "Yeah, Husband Hunting 101. Sounds crazy to me."
Mark chuckled. "Colleen seems to think she won't need it. Once she meets her friend, Blair, she'll be a goner. Colleen's already planning the wedding."
Zack glared at his brother. "Blair? What kind of name is that for a man?"
"I think he's a third generation some- thing-or-other."
"Third generation what? Wuss?"
"Zack," Mark growled. "What's wrong with you? Ever since I got married, you've been on edge."
Zack shrugged. It had nothing to do with that, but he'd be damned if he'd admit the truth, that Jenna Barrett had gotten under his skin today and set it aflame.
And he needed more than a jog in the park with his brother to extinguish the flames.
Chapter 5
Sexual fulfillment is only half the battle of a happy marriage. The other half is friendship and commitment.
Jenna closed her notebook, memorizing the statement Heloise had discussed during the class period, hoping she could boot the comment from her brain the next time Zack West decided to kiss her senseless.
Some of the other people from class were headed to a local bar, but Jenna had decided to accompany Cooking Carol to the community center. She was surprised to see Weird William leave with Practical Paula. Maybe he'd gotten the message about washing her hair. But Paula and William? That seemed desperate.