Janelle Denison

Tempted


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desire or the inclination to help him out of his predicament.

      Marc followed her line of vision to his brother and groaned. “Eric looks miserable, and we both know how long-winded, and boring, my uncle can be. Think we ought to go save him?”

      An amused smile tipped the corner of her mouth as she considered Marc’s question for all of two seconds before breaking eye contact with Eric and leaving him in his uncle’s clutches. “No, I don’t believe I will,” she said without a hint of remorse. “It’s no longer my job to rescue Eric, or play the doting wife.” He was on his own, as she was. And she was pleased to discover she was fine with that.

      Marc studied her expression intently. “You’re doing okay, then?”

      “More than okay,” she verified, nodding. “Though after a two-year marriage, it seems strange to be single and available again.”

      “I’m sure that status won’t last long.” He leaned toward her, so close she caught the faint scent of mint on his breath. “Between you and me, Eric never knew a good thing when he saw one. I was really hoping you’d be ‘The One.”’

      She blinked up at him, not quite understanding what he meant. “‘The One’?”

      “Yeah, the one woman who could make Eric settle down.”

      Now it was her turn to frown. There was something in the depth of Marc’s eyes she couldn’t quite decipher. A hint of disappointment, she realized, but didn’t understand its source.

      “I’m only one woman,” she said. “And that obviously wasn’t enough for Eric.”

      Eric had tried to conform to their wedding vows, but ultimately he’d realized and admitted that he was a man who couldn’t commit to any one woman. A genetic flaw, he’d told her, passed on from father to sons. Except Eric’s father, Doug, had chosen to make his marriage work after his one indiscretion. Judging by the closeness Doug and Kathleen now seemed to share, their relationship had endured.

      Resignation flickered across Marc’s lean features. “If that’s the case, it doesn’t leave much hope for me.”

      His words held a longing she found curious. In the years that she’d known Marc she’d discovered that he steadfastly avoided serious relationships, didn’t commit himself to any one woman and preferred to play the field. He embraced bachelorhood.

      So why, then, did she get the impression that he wished differently?

      Placing her empty glass on the corner of the rented bar, she decided that talk of anniversaries and marriage was getting the best of her and making her come to absurd conclusions about her brother-in-law. Making her feel things she had no business feeling.

      She called up a smile. “It’s getting late. I’d better say my goodbyes and be on my way.”

      He nodded, his charming grin lightening the moment. “I’ll walk you to the door.”

      Half an hour later, after an endless round of hugs and farewells from the entire Jamison clan, Marc escorted her to the foyer. He rested his hand lightly at the base of Brooke’s spine, the heat of his fingers penetrating through the black linen pants she wore. Her heart thundered in her chest, and she couldn’t help but wonder how a simple touch from Marc could evoke such a startling response.

      She stepped away from him as inconspicuously as possible when they reached the carved front doors, effectively dislodging that overwhelming contact that had her body tingling. Granted, she’d been without a man for a year, and Marc was extremely attractive, but she’d never thought of him as anything more than her husband’s brother.

      Until now…

      His gaze found hers, and the muted sounds of the party faded into the background, making Brooke aware that they were very much alone.

      A smile eased across his lips, but his expression was more serious than she’d ever seen it before. “Don’t be a stranger, okay?”

      Tamping a sudden rush of emotion, she whispered, “Okay.”

      He gathered her into a warm hug she hadn’t even known she needed until she was enveloped by his hard body. Closing her eyes, she breathed deeply, inhaling the scent of warm spice and male heat. Greedily, she leaned into him and absorbed his comforting embrace, reluctant to let the moment go.

      As much as she was over Eric, the past year had been difficult, and at times, lonely. She’d moved into her sister’s apartment after her separation, and though Jessica provided female companionship, it wasn’t enough. With Marc’s arms around her, his hands stroking her back, Brooke realized how much she missed something as simple as a man’s embrace, a man’s touch. Eric had never been very demonstrative in their marriage, believing it wasn’t masculine to exhibit tender feelings. Marc had always been one to openly express his affection.

      Too soon he pulled back, and she lifted up on her feet to place a chaste kiss on his cheek—the same time he turned his head. Their lips met, momentarily startling them both. Over the past four years she’d shared many platonic kisses with her flirtatious brother-in-law, and this one started as innocently as any, his mouth brushing hers lightly…except somewhere along the way the tenor of the kiss changed, for both of them.

      This time his lips lingered a little longer, and his mouth gradually, instinctively, exerted a gentle pressure that surpassed those chaste kisses they’d shared in the past. To her shock, a soft, unexpected moan of pleasure tickled her throat, and his tongue stroked along her bottom lip in tentative exploration.

      Her mind spun, her senses reeled, and she struggled to keep her perspective on the situation. Desires and denials clashed, confusing her. Nerve endings that had lain dormant for too long sizzled and came alive. And then she did something incredibly shameless—she touched her tongue to his.

      She heard him groan deep in his chest, felt Marc’s large hands on her hips guide her backward…until her spine pressed against the wall, and the two of them were shrouded in a shadowy corner. The heat surrounding her was incendiary. She caught a quick glimpse of the sensual hunger glimmering in his eyes and shivered at the thought of being the recipient of all that wild, frenzied electricity.

      She didn’t protest when he framed her face in his large, callused hands, didn’t object or struggle when he lowered his mouth to hers once again. Without preamble, he parted her lips with his, glided his tongue into forbidden territory, and seduced her with one of the hottest, most shockingly intimate kisses she’d ever tasted.

      And she let him.

      His fingers threaded through her hair, and his thumbs caressed her jaw. Her body swelled, and for a brief moment she felt reckless and wild. The feeling was liberating, exciting…until her conscience rudely reminded her who she was kissing—her bad boy, live-for-the-moment ex-brother-in-law.

      Panic edged out pleasure, and she jerked her head back, effectively ending the rapacious kiss, but there was nothing she could do about the slow throb pulsing through her body, making her ache for primitive, erotic things she’d never, ever contemplated with Eric. Unfortunately, her ex-husband had never inspired such consuming lust, such excruciating need.

      And that knowledge frightened her most of all.

      Frantically, she pushed Marc away, and he immediately stepped back. They were both breathing raggedly, and judging by his bewildered expression, he was just as stunned as she was by the instantaneous flare of desire that had leapt between them. And intrigued—she recognized the thrill of a challenge in his quicksilver eyes.

      Knowing that the dangerous, frivolous kind of interest she saw there could only cause trouble to her heart and emotions, she moved around him in a frenzied blur of motion and fled from the house. She sucked cool night air into her lungs, berating herself for a fool.

      “Brooke, wait,” she heard his voice, then his clipped steps as he followed her down the brick walkway.

      Shaken by what she’d allowed to happen, and refusing to engage in a conversation about her brazen response, she nearly