Normally, she caught very few eyes. At the wedding and the football party, when shed been dressed in such sophisticated clothes, their interest had been frankly sexual. But tonight was different. There was respect in their eyes, a deference in their tone when they asked for a dance.
Jenny smiled to herself, thinking she could get used to this.
Mitch was thirty feet away now. She definitely wasnt seeing deference in his expression. Still, she found herself eagerly anticipating his arrival.
Would he ask her to dance? Would she say yes? What would happen when she was in his arms again? Would all her well-laid plans fly out the window? Because the one thing she definitely could not achieve with Mitch was equanimity.
He came to a halt in front of her.
Neither of them spoke, but his expression softened.
I like your dress, he finally spoke. Thank you.
The music came up again, and she felt self-conscious standing still in the middle of the swaying couples.
Did you want to dance? she asked him, taking away her option to say no. Not that she realistically thought shed say no to him.
No, he told her, making her feel more self-conscious than ever. I want to get out of here, he finished.
She wasnt sure how to take that. Was he saying goodbye? She couldnt control a wash of disappointment.
He steadily held her gaze. Come with me.
Yes, yes, yes. I came here with Jeffrey, she reluctantly replied. I cant just leave him.
But Mitch took her hand, something that looked like pain filtering through his eyes. Only as far as the grounds. Ive got to get away from this crowd for a few minutes.
Is something wrong? She couldnt imagine why Mitch would feel a need to leave. He was a celebrity tonight. Shed been surreptitiously watching him while she danced, and hed had a steady stream of congratulations, everyone from the governor to movie stars.
Yeah, he told her, towing her along. Somethings wrong.
He shouldered his way through the crowd, her hand still firmly clasped in his as he cleared a path to the bank of French doors that led to a huge concrete veranda.
It was a warm, humid night, and a few couples were engaged in conversation around the lighted deck, drinks in hand, dresses sparkling along with the laughter.
Mitch glanced around, then headed for the stairs that led down to the gardens and manicured lawn of the River Bend Club.
Clouds had obscured the moon, and the only illumination came from the windows of the club behind them, discrete pot lighting in the gardens and the residential buildings far across the river.
At the bottom of the stairs, her heels sank into the soft grass. Wait, she gasped.
He abruptly stopped, turning.
My- She shook her hand free from his, lifting her feet one at a time and peeling off her sandals and dangling them from one hand. How far are we going?
He gazed out ahead of them. I dont know. Until were away. His voice was stark, his jaw clenched, his eyes slate gray.
Mitch, whats wrong? She was getting worried.
Do you mind if we walk?
Of course not. She fell into step, glancing up at his profile every few feet, wondering if he was going to tell her why he was upset.
Finally, she couldnt stand it anymore. Whats going on, Mitch. Has somebody been hurt?
Yeah. His voice was flat.
Oh, no. Who?
Me.
What? She froze. How?
He halted and turned back to face her, voice hoarse. I spoke to the team doctor today. Its official. Im never going to play football again.
Jennys stomach sank. No, she rasped.
It wasnt possible. Hed worked so hard. Hed done everything theyd told him to do. He had the best physiotherapist, the best surgeons. He was young and fit and incredibly healthy.
Are you sure?
Yes.
I mean, is there-
His voice went raw. You dont think I asked them to double-check? To triple-check? To call Sweden and see if there was a new procedure or a miracle cure?
Of course hed done all that. What a stupid, stupid question.
Its done, Jenny. Now, his voice was devoid of emotion. Its over. Im thirty years old, and my career is finished.
Oh, Mitch. She blinked back the sting of tears, swallowing hard as her throat closed in.
Mitchs gaze went to the brightly lit castlelike building behind her. Im sorry. I didnt mean to be selfish and drag you into this. You should get back inside.
But-
Jeffreys waiting.
Jeffrey will understand.
I wouldnt.
She stepped boldly forward. Im not leaving you.
I dont deserve that.
It didnt matter what he deserved or didnt deserve. There was no way she was leaving him right now. Do you need to yell? Scream? Get it out of your system?
Im not going to yell at you.
You can, she offered.
Its not your fault.
That doesnt matter. If you need to-
He reached out to her, gently grasping her upper arm. Stop. You are not going to be my whipping post.
I am so sorry, Mitch. She placed a hand on his chest, feeling his heat, feeling his heartbeat, wishing there was something she could do to help.
Jenny, dont.
But she stepped into the touch and pressed more firmly. You dont deserve this, Mitch.
He gave a weak laugh. And you dont deserve the likes of me.
I dont have you, she pointed out.
Dont you? His deep gaze bore into hers.
He trapped her hand, squeezing it tight against his hard chest, his voice hollow and haunted. I try and I try. But I cant seem to stay away.
The shoes slipped from her fingertips, landing softly on the lawn below. Before she could censor them, her feelings whispered out. Then stop trying.
Her voice was deep and throaty. And she realized she didnt want to censor the words. She meant them with all her heart.
She shifted closer still, her breasts brushing the back of his hand. If there was a small measure of comfort she could give him, even if it was only temporary, she was willing.
His chest heaved.
She walked her fingers up the front of his dress shirt, stopping at the black bow tie.
We cant, he strained.
We can, she countered. In fact, we already have.
He trapped her wandering hand once more. This will only make it worse.
She swore she could feel his hurt throbbing tight in his chest. She couldnt bear to leave him. Or, it might make it better.
And if it ends? he rasped. When it ends?
When it ends, Ill survive. You said it yourself, Mitch. Everything in my life doesnt have to be planned, controlled and logical. Deep down inside, Im impulsive and wild.
He groaned her name.
Let me be impulsive and wild.
His hand convulsed over hers, tugging it tight against his chest, the blue flame of his gaze heating her through to the core.
I wish I could make a guarantee, he rasped.
She smiled serenely, certain of her decision. I dont want a guarantee.
All the way back to his hotel suite, Mitch expected Jenny to change her mind, or else to evaporate from his dream, leaving him to wake up alone, sweating and frustrated in a tangle of sheets.
But she didnt.
And he closed the suite door behind them, leaning back against it as the latch clicked into place. He watched her walk across the plush carpet, into the dimly lit sitting area.
You forgot your shoes, he pointed out.
She turned. You want to go back?
He shook his head, stepping forward, tugging the loose end of his bow tie and tossing it on a chair. His tux jacket followed as he moved toward her. He was about to make the biggest mistake of his life, but he couldnt bring himself to care. He was too raw with emotional pain, too tired of fighting his feelings for Jenny. He didnt have it in him to be strong. Reality would to have to wait for tomorrow.
He reached out to touch her face, stroking his rough fingertips along the smooth satin of her cheek. How is it possible for you to be so beautiful?
Her smile widened, green eyes glowing jade.
He cupped her ear, the back of her neck, bending and drawing her close. His lips touched hers, and his eyes closed shut in response to her sweet taste, the moist heat of her mouth.
He wrapped an arm around her waist, drawing her close and feeling her lithe curves mold against him. She fit so perfectly. Though he fought for control, and he strained to take this slow, raw desire throbbed its way insistently into his system. His kisses grew harder, longer, deeper. His skin caught fire, and his muscles turned to tempered steel.
She met his tongue, and he bent her backward, his hand roaming from her neck, to her shoulder, along the side of her breast, whispering over the thin silk that covered her body. From the second he saw her in this dress, hed longed to feel her heat through the gossamer fabric.
His palm rounded her buttocks, pressing her against his taut thighs. He groaned as the soft curve of her belly came up against him.
She clung to his shoulders, while he kissed her temple, her ear, her neck, skipping over the jeweled trim of her dress to press his hot lips against the smooth honey-tone of her shoulder.
Her lips touched his chest, kissing him through the pressed fabric of his shirt. For some reason, the gesture seemed intensely erotic, and he threw back his head to savor the sensation. Her fingers fumbled with his buttons then. She kissed his bare chest, and lust ricocheted from his brain to his toes and all points in between.
He scooped her into his arms, capturing her swollen mouth with his own, kissing her hard while she cradled his head, curling her body against him. He strode for the bedroom, ignoring the light switch, navigating by the dim glow of the city lights that filtered through the gauzy curtains.
He lowered himself to the bed, falling backward onto the thick quilt, pulling her down on top of him and running his hands up the back of her thighs, finding the lace of her tiny panties, then drawing her softness more solidly against him.
Between hot kisses, she pushed off his shirt. He pulled down the zipper at the back of her dress. But she drew back and shook her head, catching her bottom lip with her white teeth. Her hair had come loose from the braids, and her eyes simmered with deep desire.
He forced his hands to still. Hed be as patient as she needed, even though it might kill him. To his surprise, she rolled the lace panties down the length of her legs, tossing them aside. Then she pulled upright, sitting astride him.