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 ran to her car. Disengaging her alarm, she slid behind the wheel of her Toyota Four Runner, wincing as his low, exasperated curses reached her. Slamming the door shut, she started the engine, drowning out his voice, then left him standing at the curb with his hands jammed on his hips and his features creased with frustration.
She experienced a twinge of guilt for her abrupt departure, but knew her actions spoke louder than any words possibly could. No matter how much she might want Marc, she wasn’t interested in falling for another Jamison.
1
Three months later
“HERE’S TO YOUR NEW single status, Brooke.” Stacey Sumner lifted her strawberry margarita in a toast to mark the beginning of their weeklong “girls’ retreat” in the Colorado Rocky Mountains.
Brooke grinned at her best friend and co-worker. Clinking her glass with Stacey’s and then her sister’s, she took a drink of the frothy beverage. “How about a toast to seven days of skiing, soaking in the hot tub, girl talk and eating everything we shouldn’t?” At the grocery store on the way up to the time-share cabin she still maintained with Eric, they’d bought enough to satisfy every craving they might have—junk food had definitely been on their agenda.
“Oh, yeah,” Jessica agreed, her pale blue eyes sparkling mischievously. “Sounds like heaven.”
Stacey reclined on the matching love seat cornering the sofa and crossed her long legs. “Seven days of doing what we want, when we want. Spontaneity is the word for the week.”
“And relaxation,” Brooke interjected, thinking of all the novels she’d been wanting to read for the past six months and had brought along to curl up with at night.
“Aw, Brooke, you’re no fun,” Stacey lightly chastised. “This week was supposed to be about spontaneity and shedding inhibitions in celebration of being single again, remember?”
Averting her gaze to the fire crackling in the hearth, Brooke took another drink of her potent margarita. Yeah, she remembered the lecture Stacey had imparted on the drive up to Quail Valley for their ski vacation. But Brooke had always been the quintessential good girl—responsible, dependable and virtuous—thinking long and hard about consequences before acting. She’d even accepted her job as an accountant for Blythe Paints because the position was staid and reliable.
Being reckless wasn’t in her psyche…unless she counted that very spontaneous, uninhibited kiss with Marc three months before. Try as she might to forget about that impetuous embrace, the incident, and the man, invaded her thoughts on a daily basis. And at night, well, she’d never had such erotic dreams, had never woken up so on edge. It might have been her own ministrations that had brought her the release her body sought, but it had been Marc who’d starred in the forbidden fantasies she’d woven.
Dismissing the kiss should have been relatively easy, considering she hadn’t heard from Marc since that night. It was the way of the Jamison men, to seize the moment, then move on before the situation got too complicated. In this case, it was probably for the best.
Ignoring the heat flushing her skin—from the combined effects of tequila, the warmth of the fire and her sensual memories of Marc—she met Stacey’s gaze. “You’re the impulsive one, not me,” she retorted.
Stacey made a sound of mock disgust. “You’re just too exciting for words, Brooke.”
She shrugged unapologetically, casually studying her nails. The pale pink polish was chipped and in need of a fresh coat—she planned on treating herself to a manicure and pedicure sometime this week. That’s about how exciting her life got. Predictable…and boring, she realized.
“Let’s try something different, in the way of girl talk,” Stacey suggested. “If you could create the perfect, ideal male to be stranded up here with, what qualities would he have and what would he look like? Use your imagination. Fantasize a little.”
Unbidden, Brooke’s imagination conjured up thick black hair rumpled deliciously, a hard male body made for sin and pleasure, and eyes that darkened from silver to charcoal with a kiss. The fantasies that crowded her mind were something she refused to share with anyone.
Curling her legs beneath her on the sofa cushion, she shoved Marc from her mind and decided to give her ideal male her best shot. “Looks don’t really matter,” she said honestly, “as long as he’s intelligent, warm and humorous.”
Stacey braced her elbow on the armrest of the love seat and propped her chin in her hand, giving Brooke and her description of her exemplary mate her undivided attention. “And sexy?”
“In an understated way. Nothing presumptuous or arrogant.” She finished off her margarita and thought about one of the things that her own marriage had lacked, and that she had often wished for. “His sole focus would be on me and my needs.”
“Oh, yeah,” Stacey said in a throaty purr.
Brooke caught her friend’s drift right away. “And I don’t mean just sexually.”
Stacey wriggled her brows suggestively. “Though being focused on sexual needs doesn’t hurt.”
“I’m talking about emotional needs.” She sounded practical and dull, but didn’t care. After witnessing what her mother had gone through with her father, and her own experience with Eric, those qualities were important to her. “He’d be a good listener, and not afraid to show his feelings. He’d be secure in his masculinity so he didn’t need other women to stroke his ego. And that goes hand in hand with him being monogamous. That’s an absolute must.”
Which certainly left love-’em-and-leave-’em Marc out of the competition.
“That’s very sweet,” Jessica said, a bit of awe in her voice. “Do you think men like that actually exist?”
Brooke glanced
