Secret Baby Spencer. Jule McBride

      Chapter Three

      “Married? After what we just did?” Seth managed, unable to process what she’d just said. Surely he’d misunderstood. Jenna wasn’t marrying another man! She couldn’t! His body was still on fire. His thighs were weak from how she’d sapped every last drop of his strength, and his voice was low and raspy from the raw way he’d kept whispering her name. “You’re telling me this after making love to me, Jenna?”

      “We didn’t make love,” she protested nervously, quickly buttoning her top and tucking it into her leather miniskirt. “We had sex.” She colored. “There’s a big difference, Seth. There really is.”

      Given the circumstances, her pointing it out was sorely offensive. His lips parted in exasperation. “You don’t think I know that?”

      Exhaling a whoosh of annoyed breath, she arched a thin, dark, perfectly tweezed eyebrow and challenged, “Do you?”

      If he was honest, maybe not, but under the circumstances he hardly wanted Jenna enumerating his deficiencies in relationships with women or otherwise probing his sensitive spots. For the first time, he silently damned her for knowing him well enough to guess his Achilles’ heel. The truth was, he really didn’t have much experience with women. Oh, he loved sex, of course. That was a man’s lifeblood as far as Seth Spencer was concerned—an attitude shared by all the Spencer men—but when it came to mixing pleasure with emotion, Seth had always avoided women. Until Jenna.

      “I guess you make love to Dom?” he said now, trying to keep his tone even. But when could Dom and Jenna have gotten together, a voice in his mind asked. And if what Jenna said was true and she was getting married, why had she made love to Seth now?

      Forget it, Seth thought. A relationship with Dom simply couldn’t have progressed to the point where they were getting married. Seth had only left New York six weeks ago! Besides, he, not Dom, had been dating Jenna for the past year and a half. Sure, deep down he’d wanted to head back to New York and claim her, but Seth had known that was impractical. He had a bank to run.

      Yesterday, however, he’d begun considering calling Jenna in Manhattan, to see if she’d changed her mind and might want to keep in touch with him. He’d barely admitted it to himself at the time, but he’d been considering suggesting that Jenna fly to Tyler for a long weekend visit…. Seth hadn’t been sure he should take that risk, though.

      And now Jenna was in Tyler. Just moments ago she’d been half naked and lying across his desk, too, and now Seth simply couldn’t grasp what was happening. Had Jenna really said she was marrying Dom Milano?

      She didn’t bother to answer his question. He watched in stupefaction as she straightened her top, then he listened to the rustling fabric of tights as her endlessly long, showgirl legs scissored toward the door. As furious as he was, he had to admit he was affected by her graceful movements. She looked like she was dancing, not fleeing his office as if the hounds of hell were on her heels. When she turned, Seth was pleased to see her chin quivering. It was a show of weakness virtually unknown to Jenna, and while he wasn’t proud of it, Seth hoped she was feeling even guiltier than that uncharacteristic tremor indicated, especially if she was really marrying Dom.

      But she’s not. She can’t be. It’s impossible. Besides, even if she was, why would she come all the way to Tyler. Once more Seth reminded himself that for the past year and a half she’d been dating him, not Dom, then pure fury whipped through him. Had Jenna been sleeping with Dom while she was seeing Seth?

      He drew in a deep, steadying breath, but his mind continued to race. He had a million questions, but he was far too much of a man to make himself vulnerable. He just wished he couldn’t so easily see Dom’s appeal, but Dom was one of those sexy, swarthy Italians women always swooned over. He looked like a younger, taller Al Pacino, and he managed to share female interests without ever seeming unmasculine. He was a clotheshorse, for instance, just like Jenna, and Dom could talk as enthusiastically about street rumbles he’d fought during his youth in Little Italy as he could about other things Jenna loved so dearly, such as art shows and foreign films.

      Grinding his teeth, Seth had a flash fantasy in which Dom was translating Italian movie subtitles for Jenna in a seductive voice, and then Seth tried not to recall the knowing look in Dom’s teasing, flashing dark eyes. Dom very definitely possessed the kind of challenging male gaze that promised a woman passion, and as he visualized that insinuating look, Seth’s fingers curled, knotting into tight, angry fists.

      “I’d prefer to keep the specifics of my relationship with Dom private,” Jenna was saying stiffly from her place at the door. “But I—I thought you should, uh, at least know what was happening. Actually, Dom insisted you be told this. And…well, Seth, there’s something else I really need to tell you now….”

      “I’ve heard enough already,” he growled under his breath, shoving his clenched hands deep into the pockets of his trousers, largely so she wouldn’t see him fidget and realize how affected he was by this news. “Jenna,” he continued, raising his voice but managing to keep it thoroughly controlled. “Let’s stick with Dom for the moment. If you’re marrying him, why didn’t you bother to tell me when you waltzed into my office?”

      “How could I? You didn’t give me a chance!” she burst out, her voice still hoarse and tinged with arousal, the dark color that suffused her cheeks deepening to a guilty scarlet.

      “You’re right about that,” he muttered, unable to take his eyes from her as he thrust a frustrated hand through his short dark hair. Gritting his teeth, he decided she had some nerve looking so damn gorgeous, standing against the door, so tall and slender, her scrap of a skirt topping those annoyingly long, luscious legs that had been wrapped around his waist just minutes ago, squeezing the breath out of him.

      Seth bit back a groan. He’d missed her so much. Even now, her silken red-streaked hair looked too touchable, feathering against poreless cheeks that had been as smooth as water under his mouth. Her lips were swollen, berry-red and pleasantly bruised from the needy, insistent crush of his kisses. Despite the situation, looking at her made heat pool in his belly, filling him with ravenous lust all over again. He glanced at the desk, then blew out a murderous sigh.

      “Okay,” he forced himself to say, moving toward her, his mind whirling, his voice taking on a harder edge. “You’re absolutely right, I didn’t give you a chance to talk to me when you got here, but you didn’t exactly complain about it, did you, Jenna?” Hadn’t she come here for exactly what he’d given her? Hadn’t she been going crazy without him? His mind still couldn’t quite process what she’d said about Dom. “What did you expect me to do?” he bit out when she didn’t respond, suddenly unable to contain his uncertainty any longer.

      “Expect you to do?”

      “Yes…when you come all the way here to Tyler and waltz into my office dressed like that.”

      She