Hot in Here (3 page)

“Everything’s fine.”

“You cooled off yet?”

Hell no! He gazed at her, still confused and aroused by what he was seeing. “So, let’s talk business.

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Because that’s what I invited you here for.”

His tone was too brusque, leaving no room for her to misinterpret what this dinner was all about. He saw

something flicker in her eyes—hurt, embarrassment? He didn’t know, but he wanted to kick himself after

those words flew out of his mouth. “Jen, look, I’m sorry—”

“Nothing to be sorry for,” she said, as she reached into the brown leather bag beside her. “It’s business.

And that’s what I’ve come prepared for. Damage control. So, let’s get to it before dinner arrives.”

He nodded, relieved that he hadn’t hurt her with his words and that they were at last on the right footing.

Talking business.

“Jenna, you do understand that I’m not going to stand by and allow myself to lose everything I’ve

worked so hard for, right? I can’t go through that again. I’m not going to let some incompetent asshole

reporter ruin my reputation and my livelihood just so he can sell a few copies of a second-rate magazine.”

“I understand. I know what this restaurant means to you. I know what you’ve had to do, and what

you’ve had to sacrifice to keep it.”

Yeah, Jenna knew. He felt a bit embarrassed that she did know all the sordid little details. Man, he’d give

anything right now to take back that afternoon he’d paid Jenna a visit at her apartment. It was hard to

believe that four years had passed since he’d spilled his guts out about how Chrissy had only dated him

because he had money, and how much of a fool he’d been to invite her to live with him, and how, three

months after their common-law status had been sealed by law, Chrissy was taking him for half of

everything he owned—including the only thing he had truly loved: his restaurant.

It had taken some finagling and fine work on Jenna’s part to get Chrissy to leave things out of court.

Nearly two hundred grand later, the bitch had departed, leaving Bryce in debt up to his eyeballs, not to

mention a sour taste in his mouth about women.

Never again, he’d thought as he signed the papers for the bank loan to pay off Chrissy, would he ever

get himself seriously involved with a woman. Not at the risk of his career and his restaurant. One-night

stands and one-week flings were all he wanted. No strings, no payoffs and, most important, no more

losses of any of his assets.

Four years later, he had come out smarter, and richer, and damn him, he wasnot going to lose everything

now because of some so-called remark in a gossip rag.

The restaurant and his TV show were his life. Nothing in the world could make him give up the two things

he loved most.

“You might want to have a look at this,” Jenna said, drawing him out of the bad memories of Chrissy.

She handed him the legal pad. “This is my plan. I’m going to refresh my lip gloss. Have that read when I

get back.”

Bryce didn’t read a word. Instead, he watched Jenna walking toward the restroom, her hips swaying.

Man, she had a fabulous ass. Why hadn’t he noticed it before? And why the hell was he thinking it now?

“Hey, Ty,” she said, waving at his waiter. Tyson nodded and smiled. When Jenna had passed him, he

turned his head, stealing a peek. Whistling, he shook his head.

“She’s fine,” Tyson said. “Man, that ass.”

“If you want this job, you’ll keep your eyes to yourself and away from her ass or any other body part

you might findfine on her.”

Tyson laughed. “Yeah, like you’re gonna fire family.”

“Don’t tempt me.”

“C’mon, big brother, what’s your problem? You don’t like chicks like Jenna. Besides, you wouldn’t

know what to do with a woman like her.”

“And you would? You’re all of what, twenty-five?”

“So, I’m the baby. Doesn’t make me stupid, just younger. And yeah, I’d know how to treat a woman

like Jenna.”

“All right,” Bryce said, slapping the legal pad down on the table. “I’ll bite. What would you do with a

woman like Jenna?”

“Inside that kitten is a tigress. She just needs someone special to bring it out. With a woman like that, a

man can be anything he wants—complete, fulfilled.”

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Bryce didn’t need a woman to make him fulfilled. One night of sex saw to those needs. He saw no

reason to share his life with a woman; it would only interfere with his plans. Being successful, rich and

eternally single,that was what completed him. He didn’t want anything more than that.

Swallowing back the emotion that started in the pit of his stomach, Bryce glanced down and read the red

ink at the top of the pad. Jenna’s handwriting was small and neat, flowing in a feminine way that did

weird things to his gut.

Disgusted with his pansy-ass attitude, he picked up the notepad and read the title.

PROJECT BAD BOY:

Goodbye, Sexy Playboy.

Hello, Housewife Fantasy.

Trouble. That was what this was. First his weird thoughts about Jenna, and now her plan. God help him,

he was going to be ruined.

There were two things in life that Jenna never could resist. Good food and Bryce Ryder.

Never had there been a more beautiful specimen of manhood than Bryce. He was so much more than the

clichéd tall, dark and handsome. Of course he was tall, well over six feet. And he was dark, his hair a

warm rich chocolate brown that was silky—not that she knew for certain. She’d never gotten close

enough to run her fingers through his hair. But it looked silky, the way it shone in the light and slid through

his fingers when he ruffled it while he was thinking. And his skin was that swarthy complexion that made

him look tan or at the very least Italian. Next came the handsome. And, oh God, was Bryce handsome.

With a killer dimple in his left cheek and hazel eyes, he left the ladies breathless with just a glance.

Jenna wasn’t certain how many times she’d been robbed of breath and brain function after a smile from

Bryce. Too often, she was afraid. And for too darn long.

She’d been in love—and lust—with Bryce since she was seventeen. Ten long years. Well, eleven in just

three hours and thirty-nine minutes.

She’d met him on her birthday, in the school cafeteria, right after she’d dumped her tray of meat loaf and

mac and cheese in his lap.

Instead of making her feel like the awkward geek she really was, he’d just laughed and dipped his finger

in the meat. After licking it off his finger, he’d given her a killer smile. As if by the proverbial bolt of

lightning, she’d been struck. It was love at first sight. Of course, Bryce hadn’t been quite as smitten as

her.

They’d become friends, and grown closer during their senior year at Bowden High. They had even

managed to keep in contact, although sporadically, while she was at college and he was half the world

away at a private French culinary school. A decade later, they were still friends.

That comment about them being only acquaintances had been purely tactical. And the reason for the

calculated maneuver was close at hand. In just under four hours, it was going to be her birthday. Her

twenty-eighth birthday, to be precise. And she’d promised herself a gift: Bryce Ryder, wearing nothing

but an imaginary red satin ribbon around that chiseled six-pack of his.

She’d told herself over and over as the days, the weeks, the months rolled by that she would not wait

another ten years for Bryce to come around. One decade was long enough. As the lead hand on her

parents’ farm always liked to say, it was time to “do or die.”

And now was the time. Oh, she knew it wasn’t going to be easy. Bryce was careful with his heart.

Chrissy had seen to that. After her betrayal, Bryce hadn’t wanted anything more than casual sex. But all

that was going to change. When Jenna was done with Bryce, he was going to want the happily ever after.

Even though he told himself he didn’t want the tangle of a commitment, Jenna knew he secretly yearned

for it. His own upbringing had sealed that desire. Raised by nannies, Bryce had never really known his

parents or what it was like to be part of a family. That was, until he had met Jenna and started spending

all his free time on her family’s farm.

Bryce had craved the warmth of family. Had wanted that for himself—until that conniving Chrissy had

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ruined it all by trying to take everything Bryce had worked so hard for. Not only had the woman

betrayed Bryce, but she’d made him believe that women couldn’t be trusted, and that relationships

weren’t worth the effort. But that was soon going to change, once Bryce saw Jenna as something more

than a best buddy.

Jenna smacked her lips together, ensuring coverage of the light pink gloss. She was so sick of being

friend material. Tired of being seen as nothing but a safety net for when things got sticky.

Not that she was complaining. Any excuse to have Bryce in her company was fine with Jenna. The

trouble was the damage it caused her heart when he left. When she saw him with his treat of the week, or

the flavor of the month, that was when it got nasty. That was when she wanted to bash him over the head

with her leather bag and scream at him,“Why don’t you see me?”

But that would put a swift end toany sort of friendship she had with Bryce. So, she had bided her time,

waiting for the opportune moment. And lo and behold, one had come along.

And it was Jenna to the rescue.

She was happy—no, ecstatic—to help Bryce. She knew he was a womanizer. Heck, he went through

women like NASCAR drivers went through tires, but she also knew that the Bryce she had fallen in love

with all those years ago was not a heartless cad. If he was, he never would have bothered to befriend an

awkward, unfashionable girl.

No way was Bryce cruel. But he could have been. Bryce had been born rich. His father was loaded; he

had even been the mayor of Lucan, the town where Jenna had gone to school. His mother was a wealthy

socialite and a bigwig on the board of the local hospital. The Ryder name was hallowed in Lucan and

Bryce had been the most popular guy in school. Even though Bryce had everything, he hadn’t acted like

a spoiled rich kid.

Now Jenna, on the other hand, had been as poor as Bryce was rich. She was rural, as the folks in Lucan

liked to call the large farming community surrounding the town. And as a rural, she wore handmade

clothes and hand-me-downs from her cousins. She did chores—around the house and the farm—and

was frequently seen being driven to school in the cab of her father’s cattle truck—usually with cattle still

in it. The memory of that particular humiliation still had the power to make her want to cry.

Yep, Bryce could have been mean that day she’d tripped over her feet and plopped the meat loaf onto

his lap. But he hadn’t been.

Beyond the sexual attraction and her raging hormones for him, there was a healthy respect for Bryce. He

was fun to be around and a good conversationalist. They had a lot of shared interests, and he made her

laugh—sometimes at herself, and sometimes at him. He was a good man at heart, despite the way he ran

through women. And deep down, she knew what he hungered for, even if he didn’t.

When she had read the article in the gossip rag, she knew it for a trumped-up lie. She also knew it could

cost him everything he loved. From that moment on, she had made herself a twofold plan. The first phase

was to get Bryce out of hot water and back into the limelight, where the millions of housewives who

devoured his books and sat riveted to his TV show would once again be clamoring for more of Bryce.

The second, trickier part of her plan was to get Bryce to see her as someone other than his brainy friend.

Smacking her lips once more, Jenna fought the urge to reach into her purse and pull out all the expensive

makeup she’d purchased. Smoky eyes . . . that was what she needed, she thought to herself as she

checked her appearance in the mirror. And maybe some hair spray so she could tease her hair into

fullness, into something a Victoria’s Secret model might wear. And she needed to learn how to pout. All

the women Bryce dated pouted, Chrissy especially. Why men enjoyed the look was beyond Jenna. But

there it was, pouting women did something to men’s brains, and other parts as well.

It’s best to start out as you mean to go on.

Her dad’s favorite adage quietly ran through her thoughts. Jenna tucked away the dark gray palette of

eye shadow and the tube of liquid eyeliner. She looked up from the marble vanity and back into the

mirror. It was true, of course. She shouldn’t make herself into something she wasn’t, into something she

really didn’t want to be. It’d be awfully hard to commit to smoky eyes and teased hair for the next fifty

years. Because fifty years at least was what she wanted with Bryce.

But first, she needed to set phase one of her plan into motion. She only hoped she could quit staring at

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Bryce like a sex-starved reject. Professional. That was what she needed to be. She needed to pretend