One Winter's Night. Brenda Jackson
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of her and Eddie as a couple long before he’d given her that ultimatum about Omega. They had begun drifting apart. Once she had gotten serious about becoming an event planner they had found excuse after excuse to not spend time together. It hadn’t bothered her, and she had a feeling it hadn’t bothered him, either. Yet neither of them had made a move to call off their wedding for those reasons.
Her thoughts drifted back to the second half of the question she’d asked herself. Why was she going out of her way to look good for Riley? It could be that a part of her wanted to feel like a woman—a woman any man could be interested in, a woman a man could and would notice.
He had noticed the other day, which surprised her when she’d caught him staring. She hadn’t expected him to display as strong a reaction to her as she had to him. And she was certain she hadn’t imagined it. It had been there in his eyes when she’d turned around. Although it had been quickly replaced with a guarded look, it had been there.
“Okay, for the first time in a long time I feel like a desirable woman, and I like it,” she said, after applying her lipstick and pursing her lips to see the effect.
Even before they’d broken up, Eddie had stopped going out of his way to make her feel like she could rock his world. But with Riley the sparks had been there, and they were sparks that sizzled. They had both tried to downplay it, but hadn’t been successful. And that was one of the things that concerned her. Would the sparks be there when she saw him again today?
She was about to take the comb and work with her hair some more when she heard the doorbell. Riley was early. A good five minutes early. Looking at herself in the mirror one last time, she tied her hair back from her face before quickly leaving her bedroom. She headed for the door, not sure if those five minutes were a good thing or a bad thing.
Riley glanced around. Nice house. The stucco structure with an A-line roof and carved columns on the porch suited her. The Arlington Heights area was one of the oldest in Denver, but he could tell her home had been added within the past ten years or so. She had a pretty nice neighborhood. Quiet. Serene. Mountains as a backdrop and snow-covered yard. It had snowed again overnight and was slow in melting.
On the drive over, he kept asking himself what he was doing. He could easily mail the scarf to her, return it when they met again next week or keep it for a souvenir. But here he was, standing on her doorstep like a lust-craved addict eager for one glimpse of her.
Okay, who was he kidding? He wanted more than a glimpse. He wanted her. In his bed. There was no reason for him to deny it because it was true. He had tried talking himself out of wanting her all through the night but had failed miserably. In the end, he’d figured that as long as he applied Riley’s Rule he would be safe. And as for mixing business with pleasure, technically, she was on contract and not a real employee of Blue Ridge. Now, if he could get her to go along with his proposition, then an affair would be a surefire way of taking care of this desire before she had a chance to get deeper into his system.
He heard her at the door and knew she had looked out the peephole at him. He had felt her checking him out, which was fine since he planned on checking her out, as well. Chances were she wasn’t covered in all those coats and sweaters today. Hell, he hoped not.
The door opened, and she stood there. He had to clamp his jaws together to stop them from dropping. If he’d thought she looked good yesterday then he was totally unprepared for how stunning she looked today. His gaze roamed over her, and he quickly decided that he loved her outfit. It emphasized her figure.
“Riley.”
“Alpha.”
She licked her lips, and his stomach tightened. Not for the first time, he thought she had a nice-looking tongue. He couldn’t wait to taste it.
“You brought the scarf?” she asked, intruding into his thoughts.
“Yes.” Did she expect him to hand it over to her right here and now and then leave? Did she not expect him to hang around for a few minutes? He hadn’t thought of that possibility.
He pulled the scarf out of his jacket pocket. “Here’s the scarf.”
She took it. “Thanks.” And then she asked the question he’d been waiting for, the one he had begun to fear she wouldn’t ask. “Would you like to come in? I just made a fresh pot of coffee and was about to have a cup with some cinnamon rolls I made earlier.”
He forced his feet to stay put and not rush past her. “Sounds good. Yes, I’d like a cup of coffee and rolls.”
She moved aside and he walked in, inhaling her scent as he brushed by her. It was the same scent on the scarf. He glanced around her home, admiring the furnishings, crown moldings, spindle staircase and beautiful light fixtures in the ceiling. She had a great room with a huge fireplace, and he loved that a blaze was going inside of it, throwing warmth into the room.
“Would you like to give me your jacket?”
He glanced over at her. “Sure,” he said, shrugging off his jacket and handing it to her. She walked over to the coatrack, and he watched her every move. He had to clamp down on his lips to not let out a whistle. The woman had the most gorgeous legs he’d ever seen. When she turned around, there was no need to act innocent. He’d been caught red-handed checking out her legs.
He cleared his throat. “Nice shoes.”
“Thanks.”
“Different.” Although he hadn’t been concentrating on her shoes, they were different. Striped.
She glanced down at them. “Different but comfortable. Do you want your coffee out here or in the kitchen?”
He shoved his hands inside the pockets of his jeans. “Where do you usually take yours?”
“In the kitchen.”
“Then lead the way.”
And she did. He deliberately stayed a few paces behind her to check out her legs, waist and backside. And no, he had no shame. She had more sensuality in her walk than some women had in their entire bodies, and the male in him felt the need to take the time to appreciate it.
She was wearing flats, but with her shapely calves he could just imagine those legs in a pair of stilettos. Her skirt was a decent length, but if it had been just a tad shorter he would probably have already had a heart attack. At that moment, he felt blood rushing straight to his groin.
He walked into her kitchen and stopped, equally impressed by the custom maple cabinets, granite countertops and stainless-steel appliances. The high-top café table was facing a huge window overlooking her backyard, which included a view of the mountains.
“How do you take your coffee?”
He glanced over at her. “Black and as strong as you can get it.”
She smiled. “My dad drinks his the same way.”
“Does he?” he asked, sliding onto a bar stool.
“Yes. My mom prefers hot chocolate and so did I.”
She brought the coffee to him with a tray of sweet-smelling rolls. They looked fresh, hot and delicious. Just like her. He took a sip of coffee. It was good, just like he figured she would be. He bit into a roll and closed his eyes. It was delicious.
He opened his eyes and found her smiling at him. “Hit a sweet tooth, huh?” she asked.
If only she knew. “Homemade?”
“Yes, one of my mom’s old recipes. She likes to bake.”
“It’s delicious,” he said, taking another bite and then gobbling up the rest of it while thinking he would love gobbling her up in the same way.
“You can have another. I ate a couple earlier.”
“Thanks.” He didn’t waste time taking her up on her offer, grabbing another one off the plate and biting into it.
“Thanks