meeting her out on the pier, wearing his heavy wool jacket, a knit cap on his head. She stood with her back against the railing, and Seth smiled and wordlessly pressed his warm hand to her cold cheek.
Justine resisted the urge to close her eyes and lean into his hand. “I’m here to tell you that Warren Saget is the perfect man for me,” she said.
“No, he’s not.”
Justine wanted to stamp her foot the way a child does. She wasn’t sure why she’d come—to assuage her longing to see him? To end this once and for all? But now that she was here, she knew it was a mistake.
“Warren is older, mature and wealthy, and you’re none of those things.”
“No, I’m not,” he agreed.
She hated it that he so willingly accepted her arguments. It made everything ten times worse. “Warren’s a respected businessman.”
“And I’m a fisherman.”
“Exactly,” she cried, more angry with herself than with Seth.
“But it’s me you want,” he said simply.
Refusing to answer him, she’d vaulted from the dock and run back to work. She hadn’t seen him since. The only reason she knew he’d left for Alaska was that she’d heard someone at the bank mention it earlier in the week.
Friday afternoon Warren phoned her at work. “How about dinner?” He sounded sure of himself, sure of her answer.
“Not tonight, Warren.”
There was a short, uncomfortable silence. “Why not?”
“I’m not feeling well.” Which was a slight exaggeration. She did have a headache, but nothing a couple of aspirin and a few minutes with her eyes closed wouldn’t cure.
He didn’t like it when Justine turned him down. Warren was a man accustomed to getting his own way. “You’re still mad about that class reunion, aren’t you?”
“Not particularly.” As of this moment, Justine decided not to go. Seth might be there, and he made her weak in ways she didn’t want to consider. One kiss had ruined her. One stupid kiss. Now, every time Warren attempted to touch her, she ran in the opposite direction. Seth Gunderson had a great deal to answer for.
“I have a killer headache,” she told him, exaggerating in order to avoid another confrontation.
“Is there anything I can get you?” he asked, his voice soft, conciliatory.
“No. Have dinner without me and I’ll talk to you soon.”
“All right, sweetheart. You take care of yourself.”
“I will.” Justine intended on doing exactly that. After work, she headed straight to her apartment with a quart of her favorite gourmet ice cream and two rented videos.
When the doorbell rang and a deliveryman stood there with a huge arrangement of flowers, her first thought was that they were from Seth. Then she read Warren’s name on the tag and started to cry for no discernible reason.
She dumped the flowers in the sink. Dressed in her oldest flannel pajamas, she sat cross-legged in front of her television, eating straight out of the ice cream carton.
Her doorbell ran again. Justine was in no mood for company. Stabbing her spoon into the ice cream, she shouted, “Go away! I’m busy.”
Whoever was on the other side refused to take no for an answer. Angry now, she set the ice cream aside and got awkwardly to her feet. Drunk on her misery, she staggered to the front door and defiantly threw it open.
Seth Gunderson stood on the other side.
Justine took one startled look at him and gasped.
“Justine?”
What an atrocious sight she must be. “This is your fault!” she raged. Then, throwing open the screen door, she grabbed him by the lapels with both hands and jerked him over the threshold. He stumbled into the apartment but she didn’t give him time to speak before she hurled herself into his arms. Taken off guard, Seth lurched backward and nearly lost his balance before sliding his arms around her waist, locking her in his embrace.
Their kisses were full of passion and frenzy. Her lips were cold with ice cream; his were hot with longing. He was dressed for the outdoors; Justine was nude beneath the thin flannel pajamas. Her hands roved over his body; his hands pressed her close to his heart.
Struggling against him, Justine unfastened the big round buttons of his jacket and with clumsy movements peeled it from his arms. His shirt was next, but the buttons were more stubborn this time and she struggled, impatient and so damn hot she felt she was going to burst into flames if he didn’t hurry and take her to bed. Her entire body pulsed with need. She wanted him as she’d never wanted another man in her life.
“Justine, no.” Seth held her at arm’s length, his chest heaving with the effort to break off their frantic kisses.
“No?” she cried in outrage. He’d created this wild fire that burned inside her, and he could damn well quench it.
“Not like this, when neither of us knows what we’re doing.”
“I know exactly what I’m doing,” she challenged, her fists digging into her hips. “Are you rejecting me?” She noticed that her stance gave him a peek at her breasts and did nothing to shore up the gap in her pajama top.
Seth walked over to the sofa and sank wearily into the cushions while Justine fought to hold on to her shredded dignity. She put on a brave front, but she already knew she’d done everything humanly possible to make a fool of herself.
“It would be the easiest thing in the world to haul you into that bedroom and spend the next two days making love to you,” Seth told her in a low voice.
Her knees went weak, and she was almost—almost—reduced to begging.
“But I won’t,” he said, “because I love you. I’ve loved you from the time we were kids and I will not give either one of us an excuse to screw this up.”
Her bravado was slipping fast. “Why are you here?”
“I couldn’t stay away.”
“You don’t seem to be having that problem at the moment,” she muttered.
Seth chuckled and said something under his breath that she didn’t catch.
“What did you say?” she demanded, afraid he was secretly laughing at her.
He smiled faintly. “Trust me, you don’t want to know.”
She did, but she wouldn’t press the issue.
He heaved in a deep sigh and held her look, his eyes a brilliant blue. “So you’ve missed me?”
“Yes, damn you.”
He looked far too pleased by her confession. “I’ve
