Looking for Love (Boxed set) (7 page)

But he loved the little convertible, the rush of the wind on his face when he drove, the freedom... the same way he loved being single.

Smoothing down his tie, he glanced at his khakis and white shirt, hoping he looked professional, then opened the door to Jenna's shop, once again taken back by the heady fragrances that assaulted him and intrigued by the display of sexy undergarments.

His groin tightened uncomfortably when he spotted Jenna. He stood for a moment, mesmerized as he watched her dress a mannequin in a red bustier with black fishnet stockings and long black gloves. Unbidden came images of Jenna modeling the racy underwear for him.

Hell, he had better get himself a date—some woman who would distract him from his newest client.

The bell tinkled above him as he closed the door, and he froze, trying to mask his reaction so she couldn't read his wayward mind. She'd probably fire him or sue him for sexual harassment if she did.

Then she glanced up and smiled, the sunlight filtering through the window casting slices of gold in that sassy auburn hair, and all common sense fled.

"Hey, Zack, I'll be ready in a minute." She knelt to adjust the garter on the mannequin and his fingers tightened around his briefcase, his body hardening.Damn. She should go back to the modest suits she'd worn before, he thought as the v-neck of her silk top fell open to reveal her enticing cleavage.

A simple gold chain encased her neck, but the emerald stone glinted in the sunlight, reflecting the deep green of her eyes, and lay precariously close to her bosom, drawing his attention further down to the soft spot he'd like to touch. She looked so damn seductive and tempting in that sexy top with her hair spilling around her shoulders that he knotted his hands beside him to keep from dragging her into his arms.

"Thanks for waiting. I'm ready now," she said, brushing her hands over her short brown skirt.

For the first time since he'd entered, he noticed another woman behind the counter, a short, chubby brunette with curly hair and a friendly smile.

"Angel, this is Zachary West," Jenna said. She snagged her jacket from the back of her chair and slipped it on, thankfully covering up her breasts and saving him from making a complete fool of himself.

"I heard you're designing our new ads." Angel stepped from the counter and he noticed her protruding stomach. His eyes must have shown his surprise because the women exchanged knowing looks.

"Angel's due in the spring," Jenna said. "She's having twins."

"I'm trying to convince Jenna to add a line of maternity lingerie in the store," Angel said. "You know, something sexy... but big! Maybe you can include it in the ad, too."

He shifted uncomfortably at the thought of drawing nursing bras and maternity gowns.

In fact, his hands were starting to sweat again, his heart stuttering.

"Let's go," Jenna said.

He followed her outside and gestured toward his car, grateful for the crisp air to clear his head. "We'll drive my car, that is, if you don't mind your hair getting a little wind-blown."

"Not at all. It's a lovely day." Jenna's eyes sparkled as she pulled a paisley scarf from her purse and tied her hair in a ponytail at the nape of her neck. "Let's go."

He settled into his seat, desperately trying to ignore the way her skirt rode up revealing her shapely legs as she fastened her seatbelt. Then she adjusted the radio to a soft rock station and sat back listening while he started the engine.

In spite of the scarf, the wind whipped her hair around her face, and she hummed to the music as he sped away. He noticed her hearing aid and realized suddenly that she usually wore her hair over her ears. Did she wear it down to cover her hearing aid?

Maybe, maybe not. She seemed comfortable with the disability, and it obviously hadn't affected her speech. Memories of a deaf boy he'd known in school taunted him. Some of the other kids had made fun of them. His jaw tightened.

Had kids made fun of Jenna?

"How about Luigi's?" Jenna suggested. "They have great pizza and pasta."

"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? That 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
.