Jennifer McKenzie - Tempting Donovan Ford

“Uh, Jules?”

“Yes?” Julia blinked, mentally rewinding their conversation to see if there was something she’d missed. Some particularly outrageous comment or a question that she hadn’t responded to, but she didn’t recall anything. Sasha’s eyes seemed to take up half her face. “What is it?”

But Sasha was busy fluffing her hair and pouting her lips.

“Okay, who is it?” Julia asked, smiling as she turned to see what fine specimen of man had caught her friend’s attention. And right there, having just come through the entrance in a tux that he no doubt owned, was Donovan Ford. With a beautiful blonde on his arm.

Julia swiveled back and reminded herself that she didn’t care who was on Donovan’s arm. But she turned her body just enough that she could sneak another peek.

The blonde’s dress flowed around her, rippling like waves, and was a blue so pale that it almost appeared white. There was virtually no color to her. Skin like the glow of the moon, platinum hair of a shade not found in nature and eyes an even paler blue than the dress. She looked like part of the bar’s design. The perfect woman in the perfect room, and her fingers were wrapped around Donovan’s forearm, a clear announcement that he was spoken for.

Julia hoped he got frostbite.

“Damn. There’s someone with him.” Sasha sighed heavily. “Guess that means he’s off-limits.”

“I already told you that.” Julia rarely got involved in the love lives of her staff. As long as they showed up for work on time and didn’t bring their personal issues to the kitchen, they could sleep with whomever they wanted. Even Jean-Paul.

But not Donovan.

“Yes, I remember that.” Sasha raised a strawberry-blond eyebrow in her direction. “Care to explain?”

Julia raised an eyebrow back. “Not really.”

Sasha smiled, a broad, bright smile that had won and then broken the hearts of plenty of men in the city. “Please, please, tell me it’s because you want him for yourself.”

“I don’t want him,” Julia said, but her stomach twisted. She ate another dull bite from her plate and washed it down with a sip of wine.

“Right. You just want his shares.”

“I don’t want his anything. And even if I did...” Her fingers fluttered up to her hair. “Oh, God. Stop talking. He saw us. He’s coming over.” She tucked a stray lock behind her ear though she didn’t know why she cared. So what if her hair was a bit messy because she’d only pulled it out of her bun and done a quick finger comb? That was life. Not shellacking her coif into a helmet that could break someone’s nose like the ice queen over there.

At least her clothing was nothing to sniff at. She straightened the hem of her nutty-colored tweed blazer, an investment piece she’d splurged on when she lived in Paris, and reknotted the leopard-print scarf around her neck. Paired with an army-green tee and black skinny pants, she looked chic and casual.

Keeping a spare change of clothes in her office was a necessity of being friends with Sasha. Sasha liked to go out after work and Julia liked to go with her. She loved cooking, but the industry could be hard on a person’s social life. She worked while others were out and having fun. When she was off work, most people were in bed. Now Julia wished she’d begged off after work and gone home to bed, too.

She could feel Donovan’s eyes on her, homed in, noting everything about her. A shiver passed through her. She hid it under a small smile and picked up her wineglass, raising it toward him as if in toast. A statement that she saw and acknowledged him but no further contact was necessary.

He didn’t take the hint.

“Sasha.” Donovan strode up to their table looking very dashing and debonair and just the slightest bit mussed. His bow tie was angled as though he’d stuck his fingers beneath it to loosen the knot and his cuffs weren’t perfectly even. A man who knew who he was and didn’t have to put on a show for the little people.

He bent to kiss Sasha on the cheek, and Julia inhaled his scent. Basil. Fresh and just a little spicy, like the scent of summer. Another shiver rocked through her, rocked harder when he turned toward her.

“Julia.” He bent to kiss her cheek. Cool air radiated off his skin, highlighted the warmth of his lips.

The shiver didn’t come back, but that was because Julia was swamped with a wave of them. She swallowed and tried to act like his kiss, his nearness, didn’t affect her in the least.

“Who’s your date?” Sasha wanted to know.

Julia kicked her. Asking Donovan about his love life was not appropriate. Even if she wanted to know, as well.

Sasha pinched her under the table but didn’t redact her question.

To his credit, Donovan didn’t look flustered or flushed at being interrogated by a pair of women he barely knew. “Tatiana Ivanova.”

Julia eyed the blonde. Her name suited her, cool and exotic and glamorous. Tatiana had stopped at a table of well-dressed people near the middle of the room, clearly friends, judging by the way she helped herself to a sip of wine from one of the goblets.

“Is she your girlfriend?”

This time, Julia didn’t kick Sasha but she did listen keenly for Donovan’s answer. Not that she cared what he said. Girlfriend, fiancée, wife, it didn’t matter to her and didn’t affect her life in any way. And yet, there were her ears, so finely tuned to any nuance that they were practically swiveling.

His eyes strayed to Julia and locked there. “I wouldn’t say that.”

She sipped her wine, feeling his gaze like a touch. It warmed her to the core. She sensed rather than saw Sasha sit back, knew she was going to have to answer a ton of questions later, but suddenly she didn’t care. She met Donovan’s dark gaze. “Oh? Then what would you say?”

Heat flared in his look, reached out to curl around her. Even with the limited lighting, Julia saw his eyes darken, the small curve of his mouth and the opening of his body as he angled himself more fully toward her. Signs of attraction. Her breath caught and held. She forgot Sasha was sitting right there, watching and listening to everything.

Donovan ran a hand through his hair, leaving lines through the dark waves. “She’s an old friend that I should get back to.” But he didn’t turn to look at the woman in question.

“Of course.” Julia tried to swallow the spark of attraction as easily as the wine. It was nothing she would act on anyway. “Enjoy your evening.”

He didn’t say anything, just watched her for a few seconds longer and then excused himself with a polite nod.

Julia watched him walk back, the easy way his hand slid around his date’s waist and the familiar look she gave him, leaning back just slightly so their bodies were touching from chest to thigh. A different kind of pulse coursed through her. Hot and envious. Which was ridiculous.

“You want to tell me what that was about?” Sasha asked.

“What what was about?” Julia feigned ignorance, swirling her wine in her glass without sipping.

“About the fact that I’m sitting over here with my eyebrows practically singed off.” Sasha fanned herself.

“You exaggerate.” Julia swirled again, watching the legs of the wine run down the inside of the glass, and willed her eyes to stay there and not where they wanted to go, which was to see what Donovan was doing with his blonde date.

“Really? Then why can’t he stop staring at you?”

“He’s not.” But she looked because she couldn’t help herself. It was instinctual. Anyone would look. And found Donovan’s dark eyes on her. Heat flamed in her cheeks. He shouldn’t be looking at her like that when he had his hand on another woman. Except he didn’t anymore. He’d taken a step away from the lovely Tatiana, his hand resting by his side.