Karen Rose - Have You Seen Her?

"With a gorgeous body."

Jenna laughed softly. "I'm sure his wife thinks so."

"He's married?" Steven didn't know whether to be relieved or horrified.

"Very much so. I was a bridesmaid in their wedding." She walked over to the wall she'd covered with photo-graphs and plucked one off. "Mark and Susan. Mark was my late fiance's best friend. Our group of friends used to have so much fun," she said wistfully. "I don't see most of the old group anymore. But Mark is my sensei . My karate master," she added, "so I see him a few times a week." She took the snapshot and slipped it back on its nail on the wall.

When she turned around, a frown wrinkled her forehead. She paced by him to stare out the picture window to the parking lot below. "I've had a couple more bad days at school. Nothing too serious. Just a string of pranks. But tonight they did something to A-to my car. I was so… mad." She paced back, stopping to look up, concern in her eyes this time. "I'm glad none of those boys was around because I might have done something I'd truly be sorry for. I was so angry I needed to hit something. So I called Mark. I'd missed my workout on Saturday because of my ankle, so he picked me up for a sparring session."

Steven relaxed. "Did you win?"

Her mouth curved. "Against Mark? Of course not. But I got in my fair share and that's what I needed. I'm sorry I was late and forgot to call you."

"You wouldn't have gotten me anyway. I was out all day."

They each drew a breath and laughed awkwardly. Then the laughter pattered away, leaving the two of them staring at each other. Steven watched her eyes widen and dilate, her cheeks blush rose and her pulse flutter once again at the hollow of her throat. And once again his body responded, his erection hard and full against his zipper. She blinked then, the tip of her tongue stealing out to moisten her bottom lip and he bit back both the groan and the urge to let his own tongue follow the path hers had taken.

Jenna cleared her throat. "So… is my apology ac-cepted?" she asked, her voice barely more than a breathy murmur and he clenched his jaw.

She really wants this.

Steven, wait.

Shit . He hated when his conscience was right. Knowing it was for the best, he forced a grin and shoved his hands in his pockets. "Of course."

Jenna blinked. She'd been sure he was about to lean forward and kiss her. She'd all but lifted herself on her toes to meet him halfway. "Just like that?" she asked, feeling more than just a little bit vexed by his abrupt change of tone.

He nodded cheerfully and she wanted to smack him. "Just like that," he said. "But you do realize that it's now two to one. I'll have to apologize to even the score."

"I can think of a good one right now," Jenna muttered under her breath.

He frowned and leaned an inch closer, close enough for her to smell his aftershave. He smelled really good. "What did you say?" he asked.

That you smell really good and why didn't you kiss me ? her brain shouted. "Nothing." She plucked at the sleeve of her gi . "Look, I can be ready in fifteen minutes, if you still want to go to dinner."

She watched his nostrils flare and his cheeks darken. His brown eyes went from placid to smoldering in one hard beat of her heart. So he was interested after all. "I still want to go to dinner," he said and a shiver teased down her back at the sudden huskiness of his voice.

Mesmerized, she could only look up into his face. "Then I'll… just… go…" The words trailed off and she licked her dry lips but her feet still hadn't moved an inch. His eyes had grown even more intense and now a muscle ticked in his jaw. He swallowed and drew his hand from his pocket. Lifted it to her face and gently pushed a lock of hair behind her ear. Brushed a fleeting caress against her cheek before burying his hand back in his pocket, leaving her cheek tingling.

She took a step back although what she really wanted was to jump up and wrap herself around his body.

"Take your time," he murmured and she all but groaned. "I'll wait."

Steven held his body rigid as he watched her back away. Releasing his pent-up breath did nothing to release the tension that wound him tighter than a spring.

She'd nearly set him on fire with a look and a few breathy words. Imagining what she'd be like writhing under him while he lost himself in her body…

He lifted his eyes to find two German shepherds regarding him with twin wary stares. Carefully he approached them, both to distract himself and to begin building a relationship with Jenna's animals. If this worked out he'd be seeing a lot of them.

He held out his hand and the one on the right sniffed him, then licked his fingers. The one on the left, not to be outdone, jumped up and licked his face. He guessed he was in. "Down, boy," he told the dog, whichever one it was, and amazingly it obeyed. He pulled at the dog's tag and frowned. "Captain," he read. He pulled the other's tag and found it said the same thing. "How come neither of you has a tag with your real names?" he asked them. Both dogs sat and wagged their tails. Apparently their training did not extend to articulation. "Well, at least you don't drool."

Steven took a look around him. Jenna kept a clean apartment, her taste running to rustic comfort. Her walls, however, were quite a different story. Nearly every square inch of wall space was covered and, as he discovered by taking a slow three-sixty turn, dedicated to a theme. One wall was covered in framed photographs, ranging in size from ten-by-thirteen portraits to snapshots. Another wall held awards and diplomas. The wall in her dining room was visually intriguing, bearing an assortment of colorfully painted masks. But the photo wall held the most appeal as he hoped it would provide some insight into the real Jenna Marshall.

She was, he discovered as he went from one photo to the next, a woman of diverse interests. There was the karate, of course. There were a half-dozen pictures of her teammates all lined up, sparring or board breaking. But she'd also played softball and volleyball, too. In fact, he saw, stooping down to see some photos closer to the floor, she'd coached a team of girls, a dozen grinning eight-year-olds wearing T-shirts from a local real estate office and proudly gathered around an impressive-looking trophy. And her volunteer efforts didn't stop there. He found five photos, one for each of the last five years, of Jenna with her arm around a kid under the sign proclaiming the Special Olympics. Admiration warmed him even as he heard the death knell of any last hope for a fleeting, no-strings affair.

She was a nice woman. A woman who formed attachments, supporting the same charities year atter year. She was just too nice. Too nice to even think of proposing a no-strings relationship.

Steven stopped short at the next snapshot. And she fished. Damn. He leaned forward, squinting. The fish she proudly held up for the camera was a good sight bigger than anything he'd ever pulled in. She was a nice woman who fished and who was kind to children and puppies.

And who made him think of hot, sweaty sex every time he laid eyes on her. Who at this very moment was in the shower. He squeezed his eyes closed, able to imagine only all too well. He had to make this stop. It was ridiculous, not to mention humiliating, acting like a randy sixteen-year-old. He rapidly searched for a photo with a more… deflating theme.

And found it. Jenna in the arms of another man, standing in front of a Christmas tree. Her late fiance, Steven supposed. He was a tall man with tousled dark hair and black wire-rimmed glasses. Kind of like a grown-up version of Harry Potter. Younger than she was now, Jenna looked up at the man with such unadulterated joy, Steven felt both jealous and wistful. To have a woman look up at him with such happiness in her eyes was something he'd never known, but that he'd always wanted. Something he'd never had, not even during the good years with Melissa.