Plain Jane and the Playboy / Valentine's Fortune: Plain Jane and the Playboy. Allison Leigh

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Plain Jane and the Playboy / Valentine's Fortune: Plain Jane and the Playboy - Allison  Leigh

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good heart, but that wasn’t something that was visible to the naked eye and she was fairly certain that Jorge wasn’t out to add a girl scout to his extensive collection of conquests.

      “Why?” he repeated her question incredulously, not sure what she was asking.

      “Yes.” Summoning her courage, she decided to be direct. “Why do you want to see me again?”

      No one had ever asked him that before. Every woman had just jumped at the chance. Jane was a challenge all right. “Because I’m attracted to you, Jane,” he told her. “Isn’t that why most men and women date one another?”

      Date? He was asking to date her? As in seeing her more than once?

      For one wild, wonderful moment, Jane felt as if she’d suddenly slipped into the Twilight Zone. Lost for words, she bit into the sweet cake she’d been holding in her hand. Her mouth full, she stalled for time, desperately trying to understand what was going on here.

      She couldn’t make herself believe that she’d hit the jackpot.

      Maybe it was karma, something Isabella had mentioned to her on several occasions. The young woman felt that life was a series of checks and balances. Isabella had told her more than once that someone as good as she was was definitely on track to be on the receiving end of something wonderful.

      She figured that the New Year’s Eve kiss had wiped that slate clean—until she’d overheard those two boys talking.

      Jorge glanced at his watch. He was due at a meeting with a client soon. Besides, the receptionist had told him that Jane had someone to tutor in less than an hour. Even so, he felt a reluctance to get up and leave.

      Standing up, Jorge extended his hand to her. She accepted it almost hesitantly. Somewhere in the back of his mind, it struck him that the feel of her hand in his seemed very right somehow. He tamped down the thought.

      Still holding her hand, he pulled Jane up to her feet and wound up pulling her closely against him.

      Sparks began to go off up and down her body, sending out alarms, quickening her pulse. He made no effort to put space between them. Instead, he just stood there, holding her. Making her warm.

      And then her heart all but stopped as she watched him lower his head. Their lips met.

      And Jane felt herself slipping into a dark, velvetlined abyss.

      Hardly aware of what she was doing, Jane laced her arms around Jorge’s neck. Her body leaning into his, she kissed him back as if her very life depended on it.

      And maybe it did.

      Because if she hadn’t kissed him back with such verve, she would have surely gone under for a third time and drowned in ecstasy.

      All in all, she thought in her heart of hearts, that wouldn’t be such a bad a way to go, dying with a smile on her lips.

      “I guess I’d better be going,” Jorge murmured, drawing back his head.

      But even as he said it, he continued holding her, his hands resting on the swell of her hips. He could feel desire coursing through his body. She was arousing a hunger in him that couldn’t be addressed at the moment.

      But soon, he promised himself. And as soon as that happened, he knew that this attraction would fade.

      It always did.

      “You said you had students to tutor soon and I don’t want you getting in trouble on my account.”

      Too late, she thought.

      Jane searched her empty brain cavity for something to say. She’d never been a brilliant conversationalist, but until now, she’d been able to hold her own. That wasn’t the case anymore.

      “They should be here soon,” she finally managed to get out.

      Finally letting her go, Jorge bent down and quickly scooped up the plates and utensils, wrapping them inside the checkered tablecloth. Securing it, he dumped the whole thing into the picnic basket.

      Jane heard the dishes clink against each other. Thinking that he might wind up breaking them, she cautioned, “Be careful.”

      He looked into her eyes, soft brown eyes that he’d discovered he could easily get lost in.

      “I’m trying to be,” Jorge told her honestly. But he wasn’t all that sure how that was working out for him. Because if he were really being careful, he wouldn’t have allowed his curiosity to bring him here. “Why don’t you give me your home number and I’ll give you a call?” he suggested.

      Even she had heard that line before, Jane thought. She’d give him her number, but she wasn’t going to hold her breath, waiting. He’d forget about calling her the minute he got into his car. Sooner, maybe.

      But that was all right. This had been very, very nice while it had lasted.

      Tearing a piece of paper from the spiral notebook on her desk, Jane wrote down her name and number, then added in parenthesis: the girl you kissed at midnight on New Year’s Eve. Finished, she folded the sheet and handed it to him.

      Taking the paper, Jorge unfolded it and read what she’d written. The smile that played on his lips was ever so slightly lopsided. He refolded the paper and slipped it into his pocket.

      “You didn’t have to write that down. I know who you are, Jane.”

      She lifted her shoulders in a quick shrug. “Just in case you come across that note sometime later and can’t place the name,” she explained casually.

      He found her lack of ego refreshing and appealing. Some of the women he’d been with couldn’t walk by a mirror without glancing at their reflection, checking to see that every hair was in place, that their makeup was picture-perfect, and that they were still as alluring as they had been an hour ago. In comparison, Jane seemed far more genuine.

      “Even then I’ll be able to place the name,” he assured her.

      She sincerely doubted it. She wasn’t the kind of woman who left a lasting impression and she’d made her peace with that. “Thank you for the early lunch,” she said.

      Jorge gave her a slightly courtly bow and said, “My pleasure,” just before he kissed her hand.

      And then, as her heart launched into double time, he was gone.

      But she had no time to savor the last hour or to even review a single sweet moment because suddenly the door opened again and the room was filled with every woman who worked at or volunteered at ReadingWorks. And every one of them was eager for information.

      Harriet moved close to Jane, a wide grin on her face. “I guess you must have had a really nice lunch.”

      “Yes,” Jane admitted, “I did.” Her thoughts lingered on the feel of his lips moving over hers, stirring things inside her that had never even been touched before. No wonder he had such a following. The man was a fantastic kisser. “It was very nice.”

      Jane discovered that it was impossible to keep the smile both out of her voice and from her

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