“Would You Like To Dance?”
Connor Asked

With him? Definitely not. Beth opened her mouth to politely refuse, but he already had his hand curled around her upper arm, steering her into his embrace.

Because she didn’t have a choice, she slid her free hand up to rest on his shoulder. The heat of his body pulsed through the fine wool of his tuxedo jacket, setting her palm to tingling.

Beth muttered a colorful oath under her breath, annoyed that Connor could still have any sort of impact on her, even a purely physical one.

And that’s all it was—the physiological response of her female body to the nearness of such an attractive, obviously male body. Their shared history added to her body’s response, but it didn’t mean anything. Nothing at all.

Seven-Year Seduction
Heidi Betts

www.millsandboon.co.uk

HEIDI BETTS

An avid romance reader since junior high school, Heidi knew early on that she wanted to write these wonderful stories of love and adventure. It wasn’t until her freshman year of college, however, when she spent the entire night reading a romance novel instead of studying for finals, that she decided to take the road less traveled and follow her dream. In addition to reading, writing and romance, she is the founder of her local Romance Writers of America chapter and has a tendency to take injured and homeless animals of every species into her central Pennsylvania home.

Heidi loves to hear from readers. You can write to her at P.O. Box 99, Kylertown, PA, 16847 (a SASE is appreciated but not necessary) or e-mail heidi@heidibetts.com. And be sure to visit www.heidibetts.com for news and information about upcoming books.

To my extremely talented web designer, Shelley Kay, who does such a wonderful job of keeping my tiny corner of cyberspace neat, beautiful and up-to-date.

Thank you for always coming up with solutions to my problems and for never losing patience with me, even after a million-and-one silly little questions.

And to Su Kopil of Earthly Charms, for being so helpful with my promotional needs and desires, and who also never seems to lose patience after a million-and-one silly little questions.

And always, for Daddy.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

With extra thanks to the PASIC Loop for helping me with some of the research for this book—especially Lori Handeland, Sharon DeVita and Shelley Galloway.

You made my job so much easier, thank you!

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

One

“Yes! Go, go, go!”

Fans went wild as the running back for the Crystal Springs Panthers raced across the field, making a touchdown and scoring extra points just as the buzzer sounded, winning the game for his team. Everyone on the home team’s side of the bleachers jumped to their feet and began to cheer.

Beth Curtis joined them, yelling and bouncing up and down in celebration of her former high school’s football team winning against their greatest rivals. Grinning from ear to ear, she turned and threw herself into the arms of the person on her immediate right—who just happened to be Connor Riordan.

Connor was five years her senior—the same age as her brother, Nicholas—but from the time she’d turned thirteen, she’d used any excuse to be closer to him, to be the focus of his attention and that coffee-brown gaze that made her weak in the knees.

She pressed her face to his cheek and rubbed against its sandpaper roughness. Even though it was practically freezing, and they were both wrapped up in heavy coats, hats, scarves and mittens, she could smell the musky scent of his evergreen cologne.

God, she loved that smell. Sometimes, when she and her girlfriends took a break from studying the law and all its many intricacies at the University of Cincinnati Law School, they’d take a trip to the mall. Beth almost always found herself standing in the men’s fragrance department, sniffing at the colorful bottles until she found one that smelled the most like Connor.

She suspected he wore Aspen, but couldn’t be positive without seeing the actual bottle he likely kept on his bedroom dresser. But she was working hard at finding out for sure.

Along with acing her next exam, one of her objectives was to seduce Connor and make her way not only into his bedroom but into his bed. She’d had this aspiration since somewhere around her senior year of high school, but now she was an adult and there was no reason why she and Connor couldn’t become lovers. She had been saving herself for him, after all.

He set her back on her feet, still grinning with the thrill of victory as he brushed an errant strand of hair away from her face.

As willing as the crowd had been to sit in the stands for more than two hours to cheer on their favorite team, they were just as eager to leave now that they knew who’d won. People began collecting their seat warmers and empty cocoa cups and filing out of the stands.

“Hey, Curtis,” Connor called over her head to her brother, who had his arm around his longtime girlfriend, Karen Morelli. “We going over to Yancy’s for burgers?”

“Nah. Karen and I thought we’d head home. She wants to go shopping in the morning and we need to get an early start.” Nick rolled his eyes, letting his friend know just how much he was looking forward to that.

“I could go for a burger,” Beth put in quickly, seizing the opportunity to be alone with Connor.

It took him a minute, but finally he agreed. “Okay.” He tossed a look at Nicholas. “I’ll drop her off after we get a bite to eat.”

“Sounds good.” Karen and Nick shuffled single file to the end of their row, leaving Beth and Connor to follow.

When they reached the jam-packed parking lot, Nick and Karen headed for his car while Beth stuck with Connor as he ambled toward his truck. The cold night air chilled her fingers, even inside their gloves, and caused her cheeks to tingle.

“Brr. It sure is cold tonight.”

“Yeah.” Connor unlocked the driver’s side, then leaned across the seat to push open the passenger-side door. “Get in and I’ll crank up the heat.”

Beth eagerly climbed in and fastened her seat belt, holding her hands up to the vents as warm air began pouring out. They crawled like ants toward the exit of the school parking lot, vehicles each taking turns as everyone tried to squeeze out at the same time. Connor turned on the radio and tuned it to a Martina McBride song in an attempt to fill the silence in the pickup’s cab and drown out some of the shouts and horn blasts from surrounding cars.

“Yancy’s is going to be crowded,” Beth pointed out, knowing that just about everyone went there after a game, whether it was to cheer another win for the Panthers’ season, or to commiserate over a well-played loss.

Connor slanted her a glance as the car ahead of them eased forward. “I thought you were hungry.”

She shrugged a shoulder, leaning back against the seat now that she was no longer chilled.

“Want to go someplace else?”

Taking a deep breath and swallowing down any remaining nerves bouncing around in her stomach, she said, “How about Makeout Point?”

He responded with a bark of laughter, followed by a dark, wide-eyed stare that clearly told her he thought she’d lost her marbles. “You can’t be serious.”

“Why not? I know why people usually go up there, but it really is a beautiful spot, and there aren’t likely to be any teenagers up there tonight, getting themselves into trouble. They’ll be too busy celebrating at Yancy’s.”

“What would your brother say if he found out I took his baby sister up to Makeout Point?”

Her teeth ground together at the mention of being “the baby sister.” That was something she heard way too often for her peace of mind.

She wanted to tell Connor she didn’t much care what her brother might say—she was an adult now and it was her life. But she knew how Connor felt about Nick and her parents, and that he would never do anything he thought they’d find unacceptable, especially where she was concerned.

“It’s not like we’re going up there for some illicit purpose,” she told him instead. “I just thought it might be nice to visit the Point on a night we’re likely to see more than rocking backseats.”

To her surprise, he chuckled. “I suppose you’re right. Do you want to pick up some burgers to take with us?”

“Sure.”

They followed the cavalcade of taillights through town to Yancy’s, but hit the drive-thru instead of going inside with most of the other post-game customers. Even so, they sat in line for quite a while, joining in with the arm waves and honking horns as friends and neighbors passed by in the black and gold colors of the Panthers team.

Once their order was ready, Connor passed the bags and drinks to her while he paid, then rolled up his window and pulled back onto the road, in the opposite direction of most of the town’s population. The scents of French fries and grilled hamburgers permeated the cab, and Beth couldn’t resist opening one of the bags and sneaking a potato.

Connor tipped his head in her direction, catching her in the act. “No fair,” he grumbled. “I’m hungry, too, you know.”

With a laugh, Beth reached into the bag a second time, then lifted a French fry to Connor’s lips. He opened his mouth and bit down, nipping the tips of her fingers to catch the entire fry.

A jolt of awareness shot through her hand and straight to her center, where desire and sharp arousal pooled. She wondered if he felt even a fraction the same as she did.

If she was lucky, by the end of the night, she would find out.

They bumped along the dirt road that climbed up to the Point and Connor angled his truck to look out over the pine-dappled ridge that gave this spot its name. The drinks and bags of food sat on the bench seat between them as they divvied up the order. They ate quietly for a while, watching the clouds slip across the moon and over the tree line.

When they’d finished, Connor stuffed their garbage back into the white paper bag and shoved it behind the seat, presumably to be retrieved and thrown away later.

Beth folded one leg beneath the other, vinyl squeaking beneath her jean-clad bottom as she shifted slightly more in his direction. His legs were stretched out in front of him, as much as the truck’s console would allow, and he had an arm slung over the steering wheel.

“So how’s school going for you?” he asked after several minutes of awkward silence had ticked by.

“Good,” she replied. “Some of the classes are kind of hard, but I think I’m doing okay.”

“If I know you, you’re doing better than just okay. And wait until you’re finished. You’ll be a big-time lawyer, ready to sue the pants off of anybody who crosses you.”

“I’m not going to sue anyone. I’m going to defend them.”

“Nah,” he put in idly. “You can’t make money that way, unless you defend the rich and famous. And they’re usually guilty as sin.”

“I don’t care about money. I want to help people.”

He grinned at her then, and she got the distinct feeling he was seeing her as a child again, instead of as a full-grown woman or potential love interest.

“I’m not a kid, you know, Connor,” she told him, pulling her shoulders back and thrusting out her breasts. They might not be as impressive as her roommate’s 32Cs, but they weren’t too shabby.

“I know. You grew up real nice, Beth Ann.”

She might have taken his comment as another insult, another reminder that he thought of her as nothing more than his best friend’s baby sister, except for his tone. The words came out in a near whisper, and the look in his eyes stroked her straight down to her soul.

It was as vulnerable as she’d ever seen him. As close to being open to seeing her as a woman he might be able to have a relationship with.

Before he could come to his senses or she lost her nerve, Beth leaned in and pressed her lips to his. For a moment, he held perfectly still, not kissing her in return, but not moving away, either.

When she pulled back, he blinked, the expression on his face a cross between shock and curiosity.

“Beth…”

“Don’t say it,” she murmured softly, staying where she was, pressed close to him on the wide truck seat. The heat from his body seeped past his unzipped winter coat and permeated every inch of her exposed skin.

“I know how you feel about me,” she hurried on. “I know you think of me as Nick’s little sister, nothing more than a tagalong. But I’m all grown up now, and I want us to be together. To at least explore what there might be between us.”

She waited a beat, expecting him to respond. Surprised he hadn’t interrupted her midspeech already.

“Haven’t you ever thought about it, Connor? Haven’t you wondered what it might be like between us?”

Her heart was pounding in her chest like the high school’s half-time marching band, and the tension in the air threatened to send the burger she’d eaten into revolt.

But the fact that Connor hadn’t immediately begun to argue with her, hadn’t physically returned her to the other side of the bench seat and started to drive her home, gave her a modicum of hope. Maybe her infatuation wasn’t entirely one-sided. Maybe there was a chance he was interested in her, too.

“Connor,” she breathed, struggling to draw oxygen into her lungs even as she moved in to once again align her lips with his. “Please.”

A second ticked by, then another while he stared at her, the intensity of his gaze flashing over her hair, her cheeks, her lips, her eyes. And then he was kissing her. Willingly, passionately, without reservation.

His hands snaked under her jacket, molding to her waist and the undersides of her breasts even as she raised herself up on her knees. She hovered above him, trying to get closer, wanting to slide inside and become one with him.

She’d waited so long for this moment, imagined dozens of times being with him this way. It was almost too much to believe, and a part of her thought she might be dreaming.

But then he pinched her nipple through her sweater, through the lace of her bra, and she knew it was blessed reality. Every fantasy she’d ever had about her brother’s best friend was going to come true.

He tasted of cola and Yancy’s special sauce from the burgers they’d eaten earlier, and smelled like the outdoors. He always smelled like the outdoors, and Beth thought it must be a combination of his own personal, masculine scent and his cologne preference.

She curled her fingers into the soft flannel of his plaid work shirt, skimming his coat off over his shoulders while he fought with the zipper on her own. Once he had it undone, he wasted no time getting her out of the fleece-lined jacket, tossing it to the floor of the cab.

His hands immediately returned to her hips, where they rested for a moment before slipping under the hem of her sweater and gliding upward. The touch of his callused fingertips on the smooth expanse of her torso set off forest fires just beneath the surface of her skin.

It was cold outside, and should have been cold inside the truck by now, without the engine running. Instead, she felt hothouse warm, their mingled breaths fogging up the windows.

They were acting like a couple of randy teenagers, and she didn’t even care. Given half a chance, she’d have driven up to Makeout Point with Connor while she’d been in high school, too.

With a moan, his lips parted, leaving her mouth to trail over her chin, down the line of her throat. She arched her neck, granting him better access.

While his tongue flicked and teased, she worked the tail of his soft cotton T-shirt out from the waistband of his jeans. His abdomen tightened as she stroked it, exploring the rock-hard muscles and dancing her fingers over the light dusting of hair that ran from navel to chest and back down. She followed the trail to the edge of his jeans, deftly undoing the metal button at the top.

At the same time, his hands cupped her breasts, pushing the fabric of her bra up to delve beneath. Her beaded nipples pressed into his palms and when he rubbed, tiny shock waves of desire shot straight to her center.

His mouth moved back up, his lips brushing hers as he spoke. “We shouldn’t be doing this. It’s wrong.”

“It’s not wrong,” she told him, catching his ears and kissing him deeply. “It’s right. So very, very right.”

He groaned, seeming to give in, regardless of any other arguments that might be crashing through his mind. He wrapped his arms around her and lowered her to the truck seat, following her down.

Her knee bumped the steering wheel as they tried to find a comfortable position. His foot cracked into the door, his elbow hit the dash, she bumped her head on the opposite door handle. If they hadn’t been so turned on, they might have given up altogether.

As it was, they laughed at their awkward positions, shifting until they each found a modicum of comfort. Then they were kissing again, lips meshing, tongues flicking, breaths mingling.

Connor curled his fingers on either side of her jeans closure and pulled the snap free. The snick snick snick of the zipper as he released it echoed through the cab. He shoved the pants down her legs, leaving them bunched somewhere around her calves rather than fight to get them off over her shoes. Her panties were next, followed by his trousers and underwear.

As much as Beth wanted this, had been wanting it for so long, the cool air on her lower extremities sent a thread of hesitation through her.

This was Connor. Her brother’s best friend. The man she’d been dreaming of being with ever since she’d hit puberty.

She wasn’t sorry she’d gotten herself into this situation…if anything, she was relieved she’d finally managed to snag Connor’s undivided and romantic attention. But she did know that sleeping with him would change things. Forever.

The way they looked at each other, the way they acted around each other. The way he acted around her family.

Of course, she hoped things would change for the better. That she and Connor would become an item after tonight, date for a while, get engaged, then marry and start a family.

A picture of them ten years down the road shimmered in her mind’s eye and she smiled, even as Connor’s fingers skimmed her inner thigh, making rational thought nearly impossible.

Whatever happened, they could handle it, and everything would be fine. He was already as close to Nicholas as a brother, as close to her parents as another son. Her entire family would be more than accepting of their relationship, and she knew that once Connor recovered from the shock of having slept with his best friend’s little sister—if indeed he suffered any shock at all—he would realize they belonged together.

She’d finish law school, of course, then move back home to be close to him, and one day they’d be man and wife. One day they’d be living happily ever after.

Beth smiled for a brief moment, then whimpered when he grazed the curls between her legs with the back of his hand. He nudged her knees open as far as they would go with her jeans still wrapped around her ankles, then settled himself the best he could in the cradle of her thighs.

His palms stroked up and down her bare torso, her sweater pushed up around her breasts. She felt the tip of his hardened length probing intimately while his mouth continued to devour her own.

He was gentle but demanding, considerate but firm. One hand skated along her waist and hip, then cupped around her bare derriere and lifted her.

He slid inside more easily than she’d expected, given her state of virginity. But he was still big, and filled her until she had to tip her hips to find a more comfortable position.

Her legs were pressed against the steering wheel and back of the truck seat, and she could hear the rubber soles of Connor’s work boots as they came in contact with the driver’s-side door. His chest rose and fell with the heavy force of his breaths, in synch with her own.

When he thrust even deeper, she gasped, a slight burning assaulting her tender, innocent passage. He stopped moving and lifted his head, giving her time to adjust to his invasion.

“You okay?” he asked, looking down at her with eyes the color of melted chocolate, tiny beads of perspiration dotting his brow.

Her teeth sawed delicately on her bottom lip, more out of habit than any real pain. “I’m fine.”

He didn’t look as if he believed her, so she reached up to brush a loose lock of hair out of his eyes, a comforting smile lifting her lips.

“I’m fine, really.” And then she wrapped her arms around his back and pulled him down. “But I don’t think we’re finished yet.”

Seconds passed while strain continued to etch his face. Then suddenly, the lines tipping down his mouth lifted as he grinned back at her. “No, ma’am. We’re just getting started.”

His kiss was soft and tender as he took her lips and began moving his hips in a slow, steady rhythm. Friction built, like a length of silk being dragged over sandstone. The faster he moved, the tighter the coil of sweet tension grew, winding low in her belly until she wanted to scream.

And then she did, as the dam seemed to break and a keen, clawing pleasure unlike any she’d ever experienced before washed over her. She continued to shudder with tiny aftershocks while Connor rocked into her once, twice, three times more before going rigid with his own overwhelming completion.

They lay there for long minutes, struggling to regain their equilibrium. Connor’s rough jaw tickled her cheek, his uneven breathing whispering in her ear.

Her arms and legs were still wound around him like strands of ivy, and the corners of her mouth lifted slightly at how right it felt to be with him this way. Even in the cramped confines of his truck cab, half dressed, half undressed, the evening was perfect. And there would be plenty of times in the future when they could strip off each other’s clothes, take it slow, explore every inch of flesh before climbing under satin sheets and making long, languorous love all night long.

This was just the beginning.

Connor lifted his head, meeting her gaze briefly before pushing himself up and helping her to get untangled from his lithe form. He pulled her sweater down and waited until he was sure she could get her panties and jeans up by herself before righting his own clothing.

Neither of them said anything until they were each back on their own sides of the truck seat.

“Are you all right?” he asked in a low tone. He was looking straight out through the windshield, his fingers wrapped tight around the steering wheel.

“Yes. Are you?”

He didn’t answer, just continued to face forward.

With a sigh, he leaned forward and twisted the key in the ignition. The engine turned over, and heat and music began to fill the cab.

“I’d better get you home,” he told her. “Before your family starts to worry.”

She nodded, knowing they would if she was gone too much longer. Then again, Nick knew she was with Connor, and they trusted him implicitly.

But she didn’t blame him for feeling a bit uncomfortable; it might take time for him to get used to the idea of them being an item.

Which was fine. She’d let him take her home tonight, and they could sit down in the morning to discuss the future.

She studied him from the corner of her eye as they drove down the rutted road and away from Makeout Point. His strong jaw, dark blond hair, slightly crooked nose. The strong line of his shoulders and wide, muscled biceps.

This was the man she loved, had been in love with since her thirteenth birthday. And now he would be the man she married and spent the rest of her life with.

She couldn’t wait.

Two

Seven years later…

Beth Curtis sat at the family table on the dais, sipping from her glass of champagne, watching as the bride, groom and dozens of guests filled the dance floor.

She hated weddings.

She was happy for Nick and Karen, really she was. They had been dating since high school, and she—and everyone else in town—knew they’d marry eventually. Of course, her brother had put off proposing right up until the stick turned blue. Regardless of their reasons for finally tying the knot, though, Beth had no doubt they would make it work. They belonged together.

But she still hated weddings. Especially this one.

Bad enough she’d been roped into being the maid of honor, with all the duties that position entailed. Bad enough she’d had to fly over two thousand miles each way to come back to Crystal Springs for the bridal shower, wedding and reception planning, and now the actual event. Bad enough that Karen’s favorite colors were green and pink, and that Beth was therefore decked out in a formfitting satin sheath made up of lime and watermelon shades of each.

Oh, no, all that was bad enough. The worst, the very worst, was that she had to smile and laugh and pretend that seeing Connor Riordan again wasn’t a dagger through her heart.

She’d done a pretty good job of avoiding him since he’d taken her virginity all those years ago. Moving to Los Angeles had helped, as had not coming home to visit her parents and brother nearly as often as she might have liked.

And then Nick had decided he just had to do the right thing by marrying Karen because he’d gotten her pregnant, and Connor just had to be his best man. Which meant Beth and Connor had to see each other more than she’d have preferred. He even walked her down the aisle during the ceremony.

She took another swig of bubbling wine. It was warm and starting to lose its fizz, but she didn’t care. The alcohol content would remain the same, and right now she wanted nothing more than to go numb.

Standing in the church’s vestibule with Connor, his arm linked with hers while the soft notes of the wedding march played had been like a red-hot brand on her soul. He couldn’t have known she was in actual physical pain, of course, and he had no idea that being around him was so hard for her…or why. But that didn’t lessen the ache in the pit of her stomach or the harsh memories that ran through her head at the very mention of his name.

And now she was lucky enough to have a bird’s-eye view of him dancing cheek to cheek with his live-in girlfriend. Laura, Lori, Lisa…something like that. She was blond and perky and had boobs that bounced when she walked. Beth would bet next month’s salary that she’d been a cheerleader in high school. And that the bounce was saline- or silicone-induced.

Not that there was anything wrong with that. Beth was a California girl now; plastic surgery came with the territory. Heck, as an entertainment attorney who worked with some of Hollywood’s most beautiful stars, the majority of her clients had been nipped or tucked in one way or another.

So why was she being so judgmental of Lisa-Lori-Laura?

Simple. She was with Connor and Beth wasn’t.

Connor had apparently felt strongly enough about the L-woman to ask her to move in with him, when he hadn’t felt enough for Beth to even pick up the phone and call her after their one night together in the cab of his truck.

Jealous? Yes, she supposed she was. But more than that, she was hurt and angry. No amount of time or number of miles between them would change that.

Seven years certainly hadn’t.

Beth paused with the champagne flute halfway to her mouth. No, that wasn’t quite true. She was over him. Absolutely, positively, one hundred percent over him.

The only feelings she still harbored toward Connor were ones of resentment. Just hearing his name raised her blood pressure. Not because she missed him or wished she could be his girlfriend, but because the thought of him made her want to strangle somebody when she didn’t typically suffer from homicidal tendencies.

To some, those emotions might be welcome in relation to an ex-lover, but to her, they only served to remind her that he had had an impact on her at all. She hated that. Loathing was better than longing, but she’d prefer to be indifferent toward him.

“What are you doing hiding over here all by yourself? You should be dancing.”

Her brother’s voice came to her from over her left shoulder and she tipped her head back to look at him. Clear as a bell, steady as a surgeon… Damn, she was still sober.

“It’s not my wedding day. I’m not required to make a fool of myself.”

“Gee, thanks.” He crossed his eyes and stuck his tongue out, mugging for her the way he’d done all her life. “Look, Karen’s shoes are pinching her, but I’m still in the mood to dance, so I need a new partner.”

Beth scanned the crowd and pointed toward an attractive brunette with the rim of her glass. “Ask her.”

“Are you kidding me? If I danced with anyone but my sister, my new bride would divorce me before the honeymoon.” He waggled his eyebrows. “And I’m really looking forward to that honeymoon.”

It was Beth’s turn to roll her eyes. “Please. It’s nothing new to you two, and we both know it. So will everyone else in six or seven months.”

“Shh. We’re keeping that a secret as long as we can. Now get up and dance with me, or I’ll think you aren’t happy for your big brother’s recent state of wedded bliss.”

With a sigh, she set down her empty glass and pushed to her feet. “Well, we can’t have that.”

Nick grinned as he took her hand and led her onto the crowded dance floor. Rod Stewart’s throaty version of “The Way You Look Tonight” was playing, but Beth refused to give the song’s lyrics too much thought as Nick’s arm wrapped around her and they began to sway.

“I really am happy for you, you know.”

The corners of his mouth lifted in a grin. “I know. It took me a while to get here, but I’m awfully glad I did.”

She chuckled. “If you didn’t put a ring on Karen’s finger soon, I think she was about ready to string you up. You have been dating since high school, after all.”

“Yeah, but I wanted to make sure she loved me for me and not my millions.”

Beth threw back her head and laughed. Nick was lucky he had two nickels to rub together. He and Connor owned a contracting company together and did a lot of the work themselves, but they weren’t exactly raking in the dough. Early on in their partnership, there had been months when they barely broke even; more when they were clearly in the hole.

Things were better now, but neither of them was rich by any stretch of the imagination. If Karen had truly been looking for a man with money to spare, she’d have run screaming from Nicholas years ago.

Beth, on the other hand, was doing pretty well for herself. Things had been tight when she’d first moved to L.A. The exorbitant cost of living on the West Coast, in addition to school loans that still had to be paid off, hadn’t been easy to swing for a girl who didn’t even have a job yet. She’d made ends meet at first by waitressing and temping at a few law firms.

Then she’d lucked out in finding a friend and fellow attorney who did have some cash to spare and was willing to form a partnership with her. Danny Vincent was a great guy. He came from money, so he’d been the one to foot all the start-up costs of Vincent and Curtis, but she’d done her best to pay him back by scouting out the talent, wooing new clients, and even stealing a few from other, more well-established firms.

The first few years had been backbreaking. She’d worked nonstop not only to prove herself, but to build the business so Danny never had a chance to think he’d made a mistake.

And now, they were pretty much set. They had high-profile celebrities and sports figures on their clientele list, with others waiting in line for their expertise, and the firm was operating well into the black on an annual basis.

She wore designer clothes, designer shoes, designer jewelry. A single trip to the salon cost her more than Karen probably spent on her hair in a year.

Which only served to make Beth feel even more removed from the small Ohio town where she’d been raised. She missed it sometimes…the friendly faces, the slow pace, her family. But that’s what telephones and e-mail were for. She’d grown up and moved on. She was happy with her life.

The song ended and Nick started to let her go. One of the caterers had just placed a fresh bottle of champagne on the bridal table, and she wanted to get back to refill her glass.

“You’re not running off already, are you?”

It wasn’t her brother’s voice that made her heart drop to her knees. Mentally, she closed her eyes and banged her head a couple of times against the nearest wall. But she’d been working with Hollywood big-wigs too long to let anyone see that she wasn’t calm and one hundred percent in control of her emotions.

Licking her lips to buy an extra second, she forced herself to smile and turn in the direction of the loaded question.

“Hello, Connor.”

He looked as handsome as ever. Better even, in his best-man tuxedo, when his usual uniform was well-worn blue jeans and soft flannel shirts. His hair was still barbershop short, no signs of gray in the brownish-blond strands. And his brown eyes twinkled as though he carried a secret no one else knew.

He did, of course. He knew what they’d done after the football game all those years ago, up at Makeout Point. She doubted he’d ever told anyone, though. She certainly hadn’t.

“Hey, Beth. I meant to tell you earlier that you’re looking good. L.A. must be treating you right.”

She nodded. He didn’t need to know about the small ulcer she’d developed from eighteen-hour workdays and a demanding clientele, or the antacids she kept in her purse for the occasional flare-up.

As far as the residents of Crystal Springs were concerned, she’d gone off to California and become a huge success. There was no sense in telling them things weren’t always as silver lined as they seemed.

“Would you like to dance?” Connor asked when another slow song began to fill the reception hall.

With him? Definitely not. She opened her mouth to politely refuse, but he already had his hand curled around her upper arm, steering her into his embrace, and her brother seemed more than willing to pass her off.

“Great,” Nick said. “You dance with Connor, and I’ll get back to Karen.”

“She’s got you on a tight leash already, huh?” Connor joked, throwing her brother a guy-to-guy grin.

“You should try it sometime,” Nick replied, tossing his friend an equally teasing smile before sauntering off.

It would have caused a scene if she’d pulled away and returned to the table at that point, even though that’s exactly what she wanted to do. Instead, she continued smiling and allowed Connor to put an arm at her waist, entwine his fingers with hers.

Because she didn’t have a choice, she slid her free hand up to rest on his shoulder. The heat of his body pulsed through the fine wool of his tuxedo jacket, setting her palm to tingling.

She muttered a colorful oath under her breath, annoyed that he could still have any sort of impact on her, even a purely physical one.

And that’s all it was—the physiological response of her female body to the nearness of such an attractive, obviously male body. Their shared history added to her body’s response, but it didn’t mean anything. Nothing at all.

“How have you been, Beth? I hear you’ve done well for yourself out there in la-la land.”

“I’m doing all right,” she said shortly. “And you?”

“Couldn’t be better. Nick probably told you the company’s doing well, keeping us both busy. Things slow down in the winter, of course, which is the only reason I’m letting him take off on this two-week honeymoon of his.”

He shot her a wide, sparkling grin. She didn’t respond.

“So what do you think about your big brother finally tying the knot?”

“It’s about time, I say. They’ve only been dating since they were in diapers.”

“Yeah. Makes you wonder, though, how much longer he’d have put it off if Karen hadn’t surprised him with her little announcement.”

“I don’t know,” Beth told him, trying not to get too drawn in to the conversation…or the warmth of his hold on her…or the lulling sensation of the music and moving around the dance floor with him. “I think Nick just needed an excuse to jump in with both feet. He’s been wanting to marry Karen since they were teenagers, but he had all those typical male fears and insecurities. They fell into a comfortable pattern after high school that kept him from having to put his heart on the line until now.”

Connor was still smiling, that stupid boy-next-door smile that reminded her of exactly why she’d moved as far across the country as possible after her graduation from law school.

“That’s awfully philosophical for a gal who spends her days reading contracts and suing production companies,” he remarked.

“Lawyers can be philosophical,” she volleyed back. “We just prefer not to show that side of ourselves during billable hours.”

Connor threw back his head and laughed at that, and Beth couldn’t help but laugh with him. She’d forgotten how infectious his sense of humor was. How his low chuckle or full-belly laugh washed over her like a warm sea breeze.

When the moment passed, she found herself dancing even more closely to him. He’d somehow tightened his grip and brought her flush with his tall, muscular frame without her noticing. He took the lead as they swayed to an old Air Supply ballad, keeping a firm grasp on her so she couldn’t slip away or even put space between them again.

Her breasts were pressed against his chest, and her damn, traitorous nipples began to pucker beneath the satin bodice of her lime green and hot-pink maid-of-honor gown. She only hoped he wouldn’t notice through the thick material of his own formal attire.

“Remember that dance back in junior high,” he said, “when your folks wouldn’t let you go unless Nick and Karen and I went along?”

How could she forget? She’d convinced herself it was a real date, while to Connor, it was nothing more than a favor for his best friend’s sister and her parents.

“We danced half the night just like this,” he continued.

Not exactly like this, she thought as his pelvis brushed against hers, making her stomach muscles tighten and heat pool thick in her veins.

“I even think they played this same song,” he said with a chuckle.

She didn’t remember the music from that night so many years ago, only the feel of Connor holding her as they shuffled back and forth in the middle of the darkened gymnasium. Her complete adoration for the boy of her dreams had been embarrassingly clear on her face, she was sure.

Thank God she’d grown up and moved on. She was beyond the starry eyes and stupid, love-struck glances of adolescence. She was strong, independent, and over him.

As soon as the thought passed through her mind, she knew she had to exert a bit of that independence and get away from him. She didn’t want to talk about junior high or high school. Or anything from their past, for that matter. Better to let those memories—not a one of them good for her—remain dead and buried.

Before the song even ended, she stopped cold and took a step back. He still held her hand, his other arm extended from her waist.

“What’s wrong?” he wanted to know, but he didn’t release her.

“Nothing. I just don’t want to dance anymore.”

“Then let’s take a walk.” His fingers clenched around hers for a moment before relaxing. “I’ll get us something to drink and we can go outside for a breath of fresh air.”

“Thank you, but no.”

“Come on. Just for a few minutes.”

She stopped trying to pull away from him then and simply stared him straight in the eye.

“Why?” she wanted to know, studying him closely. “Why won’t you let me go back to the table and leave me alone?”

For a second, he didn’t say anything. Then he gave a heartfelt sigh, letting one arm drop to his side, but keeping a grip on her other hand.

“Look, I know things have been weird between us the past few years. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out that you do your best to avoid me every time you come home to visit your family, and I just thought that maybe we could talk. Clear the air a bit.”

Clear the air. As soon as the words sank in, her hackles went up.

If only life were that simple. If only a breath of fresh air and a few interesting stories about the good old days could wipe away all the pain, misery and anguish from that time in her life.

But they couldn’t, and she had no desire to dredge up the past. Coming home for her brother’s wedding had been difficult enough. Having a heart-to-heart with Connor was more than she could handle, more than she was willing to handle tonight.

She had been telling herself for years that she’d put him and everything that had passed between them behind her. Now seemed like the perfect time to prove it.

She yanked her hand from his, giving him no choice but to finally let go.

“There’s nothing to talk about,” she told him, leaving no room in her tone for argument. “Consider the air perfectly clear. Now, I’m going back to the bridal table to finish my champagne. And you should go back to your girlfriend.”

She cast a glance over his broad shoulder, toward the well-built blonde in a stylish burgundy sheath who’d been glaring at them for the past several minutes. “She doesn’t look too happy that you’ve been dancing with another woman.”

With that, Beth turned on her heel and walked away. She grabbed her empty glass and the fresh bottle of champagne from the table as she passed, deciding to catch that breath of fresh air, after all. Alone.

Three

Connor ran a hand over the top of his head, blowing out a frustrated breath. Well, that had gone just great.

He’d meant to smooth things over with Beth, try to repair their old but battered friendship, not piss her off all over again. Or even more, depending on how one looked at it.

And there had to be something seriously wrong with him to be staring at the tight curve of her bottom as she stormed away while she was so obviously annoyed with him and while Lori was watching.

He couldn’t seem to help himself, though. Beth had been an adorable kid, an attractive teenager, and now, as an adult, she was drop-dead beautiful.

He cursed himself for thinking it, for noticing her feminine attributes at all. She was his best friend’s sister and he was practically engaged to Lori, for God’s sake. Or at least, they’d been living together for the past three years, and he knew that was what she expected.

But he was a man, and as much as he might wish it otherwise, he wasn’t made of stone. Beth Curtis had eyes like the Hope Diamond—clear and bright and reflective. With one glance, she could either make him squirm or make him want, freeze him out or set fire to his belly and below.

She used to wear her chestnut hair in a ponytail or braid, but the older she’d gotten, the more she let it hang long and loose down her back. The wavy strands reminded him of the finest silk, and he wanted to run his fingers through them every time she was near.

And her body…man, her body had filled out like nothing he’d ever seen. Yeah, Lori was built. Tiny waist, long legs, big breasts. But her chest had been surgically enhanced, and as much as he’d enjoyed the benefits of that work, there was something about the idea of silicone or saline swishing around in there that turned him off. He would never tell Lori he felt that way, of course, but it was true.

Beth, on the other hand, was just as God had made her. And he’d done a damn fine job. She wasn’t model thin or tall, but he liked that. He liked the way her breasts filled that awful pink-and-green gown without looking fake. He liked the curve of her waist, the flare of her hips, the sweet little behind the cut of her dress alluded to. He even liked the slim expanse of her ankle, visible above the strap of her pink, three-inch heels.

And that was why he was going straight to hell.

He pressed a finger and thumb to his eye sockets, thinking—not for the first time—that he was either crazy or the unluckiest bastard around to keep getting into these situations. Beth was practically family, but he couldn’t seem to stop lusting after her.

Knowing he couldn’t put it off any longer, he dragged his gaze away from Beth’s retreating form and turned to face Lori.

Beth had been right, she didn’t look happy. Which meant he’d managed to piss off two beautiful women in one night. That was a record, even for him.

She was sitting at the table where he’d left her, arms crossed over her ample chest, legs crossed, top foot tapping angrily in midair. A pulsing, upbeat dance number shook the floor beneath their feet, but the music failed to permeate Lori’s sour mood.

Well, this should be fun.

He started toward her, but she leaped to her feet and met him halfway, fire brimming in her eyes.

“Hey,” he greeted her, smiling and trying to pretend he didn’t realize how upset she was.

“So that was her.”

“Who?” Connor cocked his head slightly, hoping he would catch another glimpse of Beth before she disappeared too deeply into the crowd. No such luck.

When he turned back around, Lori’s expression was even darker, brows drawn and lips pulled down.

“Her. She’s the one.”

“The one, who?” he asked, growing more confused by the minute.

“The one who’s keeping you from making a commitment to me.”

“Lori,” he began, scoffing at her accusation.

“No,” she cut him off. “I knew there was something going on. I knew there was someone or some incident you couldn’t put behind you, but I had no idea it was her. Your best friend’s sister.”

She said the last as though it was the gravest of insults, and Connor once again felt his insides tighten with shame.

She was right. Beth was his best friend’s sister—off limits, taboo. What he thought about her those times he couldn’t control his raging hormones, and what they’d done all those years ago, was reprehensible.

And even though Lori had hit the nail on the head, he wanted to deny it. Needed to deny it.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” he told her, sliding his hands into the pockets of his tux jacket. “Beth and I are friends. We grew up together. She isn’t keeping me from doing anything.”

“I mean,” she growled, leaning in to be heard over the music, but not by anyone else, “I saw the way you looked at each other. The way you held her while you danced. I’m not blind, Connor. There was more there than friendship. More than dancing with your best friend’s sister.”

“That’s ridiculous.”

“It’s not.” Her voice grew thick and tears glistened along her lower lashes. “It explains a lot, actually. Like why there’s no ring on my finger,” she said, holding up her bare left hand as proof. “And why I’m at your best friend’s wedding instead of my own. We’ve been dating for six years, Connor. Living together for three. If that doesn’t prove you have commitment issues, I don’t know what will.”

She turned her head in the direction Beth had earlier escaped. “Now I know why.”

“Lori…”

“I don’t think this is going to work, Connor. I don’t think I can live with you anymore, knowing I’m not the woman you really want to be with.”

She walked to the table to gather her purse, then returned to stand in front of him. Without meeting his gaze, she murmured, “I don’t think you should come home tonight. Maybe not ever.”

It crossed his mind to tell her it was his house…she’d moved in with him, not the other way around. But this was hard enough on her. He’d never meant to hurt her, yet here she was, in obvious pain because of him.

His throat was too tight to speak, so he merely nodded.

He saw the hitch in her breathing before she straightened her shoulders and left the reception hall like a queen leaving a grand ballroom, head held high, regal to the core.

Damn, this night just kept getting better and better.

“Hey, buddy.”

Nick came up behind him, slapping him on the back and shoving a bottle of cold beer at him. Connor pulled a hand from his pocket and accepted the much-needed drink.

“Thanks, man.” He took several long swallows before lowering the bottle.

“No problem. Trouble in paradise?” his best friend asked.

“Yeah. I think I just got kicked out of my own house.”

“Ouch. You and Lori had a fight, then. What about?”

Nothing he could share with Nick.

“It’s not important,” he mumbled, hoping Nick wouldn’t press for details.

He took another swig of beer, then dug into his pants pocket to feel for his wallet. “I hate to take off so early, but I’d better start looking for a hotel vacancy or I’m going to end up sleeping in my truck.” Which he’d have to walk home to retrieve, since they’d driven to the wedding and reception in Lori’s car.

“Listen,” Nick told him. “Why don’t you stick around a while longer, enjoy yourself, then you can crash at my place. Karen and I are heading straight for the airport after this and won’t be back for two weeks. If you and Lori make up, great. But if you don’t, you can stay there as long as you like.”

“Are you sure?” Connor asked, touched by his friend’s generosity. But then, the Curtises had always treated him better than he deserved.

Even as a rough-and-tumble foster kid from across the street, they’d invited him in and acted as if he was no different than Nick or any other boy their age.

Never mind that he was hell on wheels, with a chip on his shoulder the size of Texas, working on getting kicked out of his eighth or ninth foster home. They’d accepted him, trusted him, even grown to love him as much as he loved them.

His eyes grew damp just thinking about how accepting they’d been of him, despite the asinine things he’d done to test them. They’d changed his life, and if it took him until the day he died, he’d do everything he could to repay them.

“Mi casa es su casa,” Nick quipped. “I’d feel better knowing someone was around, anyway.”

“Thanks, man, I really appreciate it.”

“No problem. Now, why don’t you come on over to the table with us, and when we leave, we’ll swing past your place so you can pick up your truck.”

Connor cast a sideways glance at his friend as they negotiated the crowd and headed toward a smiling Karen, still decked out in her white wedding dress and veil.

“You’re going to ride me about this after you get back from your honeymoon, aren’t you?”

Nick snorted, not bothering to hide his amusement. “Oh, yeah. Getting dumped at my wedding, kicked out of your own house… It’s too good to let go.” He slung an arm around Connor’s shoulders. “Don’t worry, buddy, I’ll still remember all the details when I get back.”

Connor shook his head, rubbing at the headache that was beginning to form right between his eyes. “That’s what I’m afraid of.”

The scent of fresh-brewed coffee filled the air and tickled Beth’s nose where it was buried in her pillow-case. She rolled to her back with a groan and slowly opened her eyes.

Well, the room wasn’t spinning. That had to be a good sign.

She wasn’t intoxicated—not anymore—but she was hungover. She could feel it, from the throbbing in her brain to the thick pile of cotton coating her tongue.

What had she been thinking? She’d left her brother’s wedding reception with a full magnum of champagne and ended up drinking so much the bottle ached.

She never did that sort of thing, and it galled her to realize she’d let things get to her so much last night that she’d turned to alcohol to numb her emotions.

Thank God it was over, though. Nick and Karen would be on their honeymoon by now, or at least on their way to sunny Honolulu. And all of their guests would have gone home, Connor and his peroxide-blond girlfriend included. She never needed to see him again.

Life couldn’t get much better.

She pushed herself out of bed and lurched to the connected bathroom, using the nightstand and dresser to keep from falling over. After brushing her teeth and splashing a little water on her face, she felt more human. She was even walking straighter as she made her way downstairs, following the mesmerizing fragrance of java and the promise of a jolt of caffeine.

Turning the corner into the kitchen, covering a yawn with the back of her hand, she opened her eyes to find a man standing at the counter with his back to her.

A yip of fear and surprise passed her lips before she could stop it, and the man whirled in her direction. If she hadn’t been feeling so sluggish and out of sorts when she woke up, she might have figured out earlier that in order for her to smell fresh-brewed coffee, another body had to be in the house to make it.

And she’d been wrong: Life couldn’t get much worse.

Connor watched her with wide eyes, just as stunned by her sudden appearance as she was by his presence. He clutched a cup of steaming coffee in his hands, a splotch of the dark brew staining the front of his shirt where it had sloshed over the lip of the mug when he’d spun around.

Good, she hoped he’d burned himself.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, not kindly, grasping for the edges of a robe that wasn’t there. Instead, she was standing in the middle of her family’s kitchen, covered only by the paper-thin camisole she’d worn beneath her bridesmaid gown.

Last night, after she’d dug her brother’s spare house key out of the flower bed where he kept it hidden in the bottom of a resin lawn ornament and climbed the stairs to her old bedroom, she’d shrugged out of the pink-and-green concoction, but left the camisole on. With spaghetti straps and a hem that hit high on the thigh, it was no more revealing than any of her other satin nighties.

Besides, she’d been alone in the house…just her and Dom Pérignon…and not expecting guests.

“I could ask you the same thing,” Connor responded, setting his mug on the countertop and grabbing a paper towel to blot at the stain on his shirt, just above the waistband of his low-slung jeans.

Lord, he wore denims like no one else she’d ever seen. Even out in L.A., where every waiter or valet was an aspiring actor or model, the men didn’t have waists and hips and buttocks like Connor Riordan. They would never be able to pull off the open flannel shirts over faded T-shirts the way he did, or the worn blue jeans and work boots.

Not that it had any effect on her whatsoever. She was merely making a mental observation, the same as she might be slightly awed by a famous, high-powered celebrity who waltzed into her office back on Wilshire.

“In case you’ve forgotten, this is my house.”

“Since when?”

She lifted a brow, her annoyance growing in direct proportion to the pounding in her skull. What she wouldn’t give for a cup of that coffee and fifty aspirin right about now.

But she couldn’t have those things just yet. Not until she’d finished this argument with Connor and kicked him out on his tight-but-aggravating butt.

“Since I grew up here. Remember?”

“That was a long time ago,” he remarked, picking up his mug once again and taking a slow sip of the black coffee that was making her mouth water. “Seems to me it’s not so much your house anymore. Your parents moved to a smaller place on the other side of town, and you moved all the way to Los Angeles. It’s your brother’s place now…his and Karen’s.”

Beth’s teeth gritted together and she felt her right eye begin to twitch, which it only did when she was resisting the urge to clobber somebody.

“I’m still family,” she told him, jaw clenched tight so that her words sounded half growled, even to her own ears. “This is my family home, and I’m sure Nick won’t mind me staying in my old room for a few nights while he’s on his honeymoon.”

Like she owed him any explanation! Honestly, this was her house—her family home, at any rate. He was the interloper. He should be the one defending himself and offering up explanations for why he was here.

“Well, sweetheart,” he drawled, “that’s where we might have a problem. Because Nick told me I could stay here until he gets back.”

Scowling, she let his words sink in, all the while wishing her brother were nearby so she could wring his neck. Was it too much to ask that she be allowed to stay in her childhood home while she was in Ohio? Alone. To rest and recuperate before going back to her mile-a-minute world and no-rest-for-the-weary occupation.

“Why do you need to stay here?” she wanted to know. “Don’t you have a house of your own to go to?”

She could have sworn he blushed at that. His cheekbones turned a dull red and he refused to meet her gaze.

“Yeah,” he said in a low rumble. “You’d think that would make a difference.”

“Excuse me?”

“I got kicked out, okay?” he grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest and slouching against the counter cabinets.

He was pouting. And looking decidedly embarrassed, Beth thought.

Oh, the day was taking a turn for the better, after all.

She perked up, fighting the urge to giggle at his obvious discomfort and reversal of fortune.

“You got kicked out,” she repeated, trying not to sound too gleeful. “Of your own house. Why?”

The flush disappeared from his face, then was replaced by the flat, grim line of his mouth.

“Never mind why,” was his terse reply. “The point is, I needed a place to stay, and your brother offered the use of his house until he and Karen get back from their honeymoon.”

It was her turn to cross her arms. At this point, she didn’t even care that the gesture pushed her breasts up and caused the flimsy satin and lace bodice to bunch and reveal a fair amount of cleavage.

If the sight offended him, fine. If it turned him off, so be it. And if it turned him on…good. Maybe he would feel intimidated by his attraction to her and hightail it to the nearest hotel.

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