Anyone but Alex (The English Brothers Book 3) (5 page)

Finally, the burning in his lungs forced him to breathe
, and his eyes reverted to familiar, comfortable behavior, dropping hers and checking out her body. He had never been more powerfully attracted to someone. Never. Not after years of conquests and trysts. Jessica was like an instant drug to him; a hit of sweet ecstasy that was addling his senses. He had a sudden mental image of her in bed beneath him, and he trembled, forcing himself not to reach for her as he dragged his eyes back up to meet hers.

Could she see it? Could she see what he was thinking? He
imagined her naked and wanting, arching her back to meet his thrusts, moaning as he stretched her, crying out as she came, her muscles shuddering rhythmically around him.

“Oh,” she
said, blinking up at him in realization.

Her voice wasn’t breathless or shocked, though he noticed her breasts heaved against her dressed just a little bit harder
than they had a moment before. That slight, but unmistakable, shift in her breathing would almost be enough for a man looking for an opening to make a move on her.

But
instead of taking a step forward to pull her against him—to see if he was right and if kissing her perfect lips would lead to a passionate, impromptu fuck against the brick wall of a cold, dark balcony—Alex froze. The same eyes that had trusted him as a child now looked at him as an adult, and he was powerless to misuse her. Every protective instinct rose within him, and all he could think was that he needed to stay away from her.

“We’ll go back inside separately,” he said softly, exhaling in a rush as his body, primed and ready for pleasure,
balked that none was forthcoming. “You go first. I’ll wait a while, and then—”

“Alex, your reputation doesn’t bother me. Didn’t you hear what I said?” she asked, her forehead deeply creased in confusion.

“Yes. Every word,” Alex said through clenched teeth. He winced, shaking his head. There was something wrong with him—something
deeply wrong
with him—if he didn’t at least reach for this living goddess. “But, I’m no good for you, Jess.”

“I see,” she said
softly, pulling his jacket more snugly over her chest, which released a strong whiff of Polo Black. He fleetingly wondered if she would smell like him when she took it off. Glancing back at her face, it surprised him when her stunning red lips tilted up in a sweet, understanding smile. “But, I didn’t actually offer anything, Alex.”

“Didn’t you?”
he asked, fairly certain he’d seen the offer in her eyes, even if she wasn’t aware she’d made it.

She shook her head. “I
just wanted you to know that I don’t judge you for your personal choices. You were a friend to me when I needed one. And though I’m sure you don’t need one, I’d like to be yours all the same.”

Her words were like a bucket of cold water over his head
, and Alex didn’t know whether to be touched or slighted.

Friendship
? She was offering him
friendship
? Was she actually saying she didn’t want to date him or sleep with him or otherwise learn what it would feel like to be with Alex English? He searched her face, but it was pristine and unstudied in the moonlight, her eyes earnest, if a little sad. She wanted to be his…
friend
? Alex didn’t know how to be friends with a woman. The few times he’d tried, he’d ended up sleeping with them anyway.

“Friends,” he said, trying not to grimace.

She nodded, smiling brightly at him like their being friends was an actual possibility when his body was raging with want for her.

“Or do you not
do
friends?”

“Oh, I definitely
do
friends,” said Alex without thinking.

He grimaced in embarrassment, but t
o his relief, Jessie wasn’t at all offended. Her eyes widened, and her mouth dropped open softly before she started laughing. It was musical and soft, a sound so welcome Alex found himself grinning and wishing he could hear Jessie Winslow laugh every day for the rest of his life.

Finally she took another sip of her martini, shaking her head, her face a mixture of amusement and skepticism. “Do lines like that actually work?”

“You’d be surprised.”

“I guess I would be.”
She tilted her head to the side and grinned. “What’s your best one?”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Lay it on me.”

He
studied her face, but it was open and amused, and he decided to answer her honestly.

“Are you an interior decorator?”

“No,” she said, looking confused by the sudden shift in conversation.

“Because the whole room got more beautiful when you walked into it.”

She gasped before breaking into gales of laughter, her shoulders shaking under his oversized jacket. When she could finally speak, she demanded, “Tell me another.”

He gave her one of his sexier smiles, then dropped his eyes obviously to her chest. When she smacked his arm, he looked up,
wide-eyed and startled.

“I wasn’t staring at your breasts,” he insisted. “I was staring at your heart.”

“Oh. My. God,” she chortled, setting down her drink with shaky hands as she wheezed softly from laughing.

“Want another?” he asked eagerly, wanting to hear her laugh again.

“Tell me the cheesiest of the cheese.”

Alex nodded. “Okay.” He clear
ed his face of all expression, softened his lips, and looked deeply into her eyes. “Of all the beautiful curves on your body… Your smile is my favorite.”

He watched closely, waiting for her to burst into laughter again, but she blushed and took a deep breath instead, an uncertain smile playing at the edges of her mouth. “You’re good.”

“Actually,” he said, taking a step closer to her, “I’m very bad.”

“Oh, Lord!” she exclaimed, pushing his chest away and giggling all over again. “That one was the worst!”

He took a step back, snapping his fingers dramatically. “Overplayed my hand. Almost thought I had you there on the smile line.”

“Maybe you almost did.” She gave him a bashful grin before
reaching for her glass and taking a sip.

“They don’t work for you?” he asked. “Pick-up lines?”

“They’re kind of silly, aren’t they?”

“Some women think they’re sexy.”

She shrugged, her wide eyes merry as she continued to grin.

“Okay. You win. They’re silly. So, what
does
work for you?” he asked, unable to resist learning a little more about her, surprised to discover for the first time in years, he actually
wanted
to hear a woman talk about herself.

Her smile faded a bit
, and if the light was stronger he was sure he’d notice a self-conscious blush deepen the pink on her cheeks. “Really?”

“Yeah. I want to know.”

“I don’t know if it’s very
sexy
,” she said, referring to his previous comment.

“Tell me anyway.”

“Huh. Okay. Here goes. What works for me? Kindness. Respect. Someone who makes me laugh.” She grinned more confidently at him, and her shoulders relaxed as she eased into the subject. “Someone smart and interesting. A little daring, maybe. Someone who surprises me in good ways.”

“What else?”

“Someone who makes my toes curl when he kisses me.”

“What else?” he whispered.

“Someone who lets me put my cold feet against his warm legs.”

“More,” he said softly, mesmerized by her simple honesty.

She shook her head, searching his face, before taking another sip of her drink. “Someone who can’t take his eyes off me.”

Her eyes were pools of black staring back at his, and he could feel the heat, the longing, the charged field of want between them.

“What else?” His voice was barely audible as he breathed heavily, in and out, in and out, through his nose, the warmth of his breath making puffs of smoke every time he exhaled.

She swallowed, still holding his eyes.

“Someone who chooses me,” she whispered, her smile all but faded. “
Only
me.”

Alex raised his chin just a touch, searching her eyes. He
understood what she was saying. She wasn’t the sort of woman who’d fall for his lines or end up on her back in his bed tonight. She was a nice girl looking for a nice boy, and Alex was the furthest possible thing from the solid, committed, upstanding man Jessie deserved.

What surprised him was how much it
ached
to hear it—to realize that he couldn’t have her, that—as he was—he wasn’t good enough for her. At that moment, he knew how much he wanted to indulge the fantasy of having a chance with her. His disappointment was far more bitter and painful than he would have guessed.

He nodded curtly, giving her a tight smile, and turned to leave. Her voice at his back made him pause.

“Dance with me?” she murmured suddenly, looking as surprised as he felt to hear the words tumble from her mouth. She dropped his eyes, flicking her glance to the French doors behind him as the orchestra started playing the old ballroom standard
The Way You Look Tonight
. “This is one of my favorites.”

“It’s not a good idea, Jess,” he said,
her words, “
Only me
,” fresh in his head. He thought of Cameron’s warning, about the little girl who trusted him once upon a time. He reminded himself that he was not the sort of man who deserved someone like her, on any level.

“I don’t care.” Her eyes flashed, meeting his with intensity before softening with a small, cajoling smile. “Don’t friends ever dance together?”

“I’m the wrong person to ask. When I’m dancing with someone, I’m generally trying to get into her pants.”

“Oh,” said Jessie, pushing away from the low cem
ent wall to stand before him. “Then it’s okay, because I’m wearing a dress.”

She drew his hand to her hip
, under his jacket, placing his palm flat against the smooth satin, and he pulled her toward him as his fingers spread, then tightened. She bent her head back to look up at him, her lips catching the ambient light from the ballroom, shiny and full, heart-wrenchingly lovely. She placed one hand on his shoulder and held up the other, waiting for him to take it in his. Knowing what a very bad idea it was to slow dance with Jessica Winslow on the secluded balcony, he still couldn’t help himself from reaching for her, from stealing this one fleeting moment before telling her goodbye.

She gasped lightly as his fingers curled around her hand
, and he cut his eyes from their joined hands to her face. Her tongue slipped between her lips to wet them, and Alex watched, fascinated, his chest heaving from the feeling of holding her so close.

With dance steps well-practiced at Simon West’s School of Dance, they made the best of the small space, their movements tight. Alex tried not to look at her face, which was so beautiful and unguarded he could barely stand not to lean down and kiss her. He
lifted his chin and stared, instead, over her shoulder at the lights of the cars moving back and forth on the street below. A dozen cars going somewhere. A dozen people who had no idea how much the world had changed in the past hour.

Jessica Winslow was home after fourteen years. She was stunning and witty and warm, and she wanted to be friends…
Friends.

Hmm
, Alex thought.
She hadn’t withdrawn that offer.

He pulled her closer,
feeling desperate to assuage the heaviness he’d feel when the song ended and she walked away from him. No one had ever looked at him as Jessie did, and now that she’d reappeared in his life, even for a handful of weeks, he couldn’t bear to let her go. She had offered him her friendship, and Alex was helpless to refuse it.

He looked at the stars, silently promising that he wouldn’t make a move on her—he couldn’t,
wouldn’t
, let himself have her, wouldn’t let himself
ruin
her by letting anyone think she was one of the “Professor’s Girls.” He would be careful and discreet, as proper as a parson, if that’s what it took to know her again.

“Jess,” he whispered close to her ear
. He felt her tremble lightly in his arms. “If the offer’s still open, I’d like to be friends.”

She leaned back, h
er lips tilting up softly as she searched his eyes. After a long pause, she finally answered. “It’s still open.”

“Okay, then.” He gulped softly, surprised by the leaping in his chest, the sudden lightness of his head. “Friends.”

“Friends,” she said, giving him an encouraging smile before leaning forward to rest her cheek on his shoulder.

“
Um. What does that look like, exactly?” he asked against her hair, closing his eyes, inhaling the light scent of tea roses mixed with Black and knowing that he’d buy another tux before he’d launder the jacket she was wearing tonight.