Ill Take Forever

him, his pale shirt showing off the breadth of his shoulders, the dark brown cords molding the length of his long legs. He looked rested and relaxed, the color back in his face, his eyes bold and assessing.
    Jenny felt the heat steal into her cheeks, but could do nothing to stop it. She felt his gaze as a caress and the trembling deep within her threatened to spill out to her knees.
    'You look lovely,' Kyle said softly as she reached the front hall.
    'Thank you.' Shyly she walked over to him, breathlessly drawing near him. Would he move to let her pass? They could wait for George in the living room.
    'All dressed up for the neighbor, eh?'
    Jenny blinked. 'Sure, he's a good friend and I want him to enjoy himself tonight.'
    'Shall I excuse myself after dinner so you two can enjoy yourself?'
    She understood the hidden meaning and shook her head. If she wanted something like that, it wouldn't be with George Carlisle.
    'No need,' she replied stiffly, staring up into his face. The fine lines around his eyes were paler than his tanned cheeks, the lips full and sensuous, his dark eyes fathomless pools in which she could fall and lose herself forever.
    'Jenny--' His voice was low, husky as he gently trailed his knuckles down her heated cheek, across her jaw-line, down her throat. 'If you continue to look at me like that, your friend's going to miss dinner.'
    Jenny swayed towards Kyle, her mind racing, tumbling with visions of what might happen. The vision vanished as she heard the throaty growl of George's Porsche on the graveled drive.
    With a sigh—hers or his? — she stepped back and went to the door to greet her guest.
    Surprised by a large bouquet of roses, she was pink and flustered as she made the introductions.
    Under the pretense of smelling the fragrant blossoms, she studied the two men. They were totally different, each distinguished in his own right. Kyle was taller, broader, much more rugged. His dark, unruly hair, his brown eyes, narrowed now, his tanned skin, all blending together gave him a rakish appearance, an earthy, robust stance. Clearly a man of action.
    George would have been at home at a corporate board meeting. He was slim, dapper, with a small mustache covering his top lip. His eyes were rather nondescript—hazel, Jenny thought. He had an aura of fastidiousness around him in contrast to Kyle's earthiness.
    She smiled at them both.
    'I'll just put these in water. Why don't you go on into the living room? I'll join you in just a moment.'
    The men moved to the room, each watching the other. Kyle gave way first, seeking a chair near the sofa, from where he could see the whole room. No matter where George chose to sit, Kyle could easily converse with him. George chose the sofa.
    Jenny, coming in with drinks, paused only a moment before joining George on the sofa.
    'I know what Kyle likes.' She handed him his glass. 'And, George, I remembered what you always ordered when we ate out—gin and tonic. Right?'
    'Fine, thank you, my dear.' George raised his glass in silent toast and sipped.
    Jenny was flustered. He had never called her 'dear' before; it was almost like he was staking a claim. Why tonight, of all nights? She threw a quick glance at Kyle. He was looking at the drink, she’d brought him–a cola. Had he heard? Suddenly he looked up, catching her gaze. His sardonic expression showed he had.
    'Jenny said you were one of Johnny's cousins. I don't believe we've met before, and yet I thought I knew most of the Warwick’s.' George settled back, his demeanor calm and thoughtful.
    'Edith's son,' Jenny murmured, looking at her glass, her emotions whirling. She had not thought of George as anything other than a friend. Surely that was all he saw her as.
    'I haven't visited here in—oh, years and years. Since I was a kid,' Kyle said lazily. 'Wasn't planning on it this summer, either, but since I crashed my bike, I thought why not? Now that I've met Jenny, I'm glad it happened.'
    Jenny jerked her head up at this, had she heard right?
    'An accident on a motorcycle?' George was polite.
    'Yeah. Broken collarbone. I'll be fine in a few weeks, but in the meantime, it put paid to my plans to visit Europe this summer.'
    The conversation centered on Kyle as he and Jenny slowly unfolded the story they had concocted. George was polite, probing. Kyle answered all questions in a casual, careless manner, more than once alluding to a growing relationship between him and his cousin's widow. Jenny grew more and more