her, and she
already felt the need to recede into the corners. Why had she let Karen bait her into such a brash
comment? Tessa berated herself. Sudden
chagrin washed over her as she realized how impolitic her words.
When she glanced over at Karen, Tessa expected to see a glare, but
Karen didn't seem even to have noticed Tessa's comment. Instead,
Karen swept grandly past Tessa and latched onto the arm of the
snickering man.
“Jason Cartwright,” Karen purred. “Did we say
something amusing?”
“Not you all,” he replied in a slight
southern drawl, “this lady.” He touched Tessa's arm lightly, and
the sensation sent a shiver over her skin. “I don't believe I've
had the pleasure.”
Turning completely around
to face Mr. Cartwright, she drew in her breath sharply. Never one
to entertain thoughts of any other man, Tessa wondered at her
reaction. Something about Jason Cartwright knocked her off
balance. Perhaps ,
she considered dazedly, it's the hungry
look in his eye. Ducking her head, Tessa
smiled shyly, but she tried to steady her voice and hand. Though in
other circumstances she might have felt unequal to the task, Tessa
would never give Karen Whitfield the satisfaction of seeing her
abashed.
“Hello, Mr. Cartwright.”
Tessa extended her hand with as much confidence as she could
muster. “My name is Tessa Wilson.” As she spoke her name, her usual
self-confidence returned, and the wrongness of his attentions hit
her. Tessa paused for effect, looking challengingly into the man's
eye. “My husband is Merritt Wilson.”
Tessa had no doubt that Mr. Cartwright knew
Merritt Wilson, an executive Vice President of the company, and she
wanted to emphasize to the stranger the impropriety of his
attentions. Jason Cartwright, however, seemed little effected by
Merritt's identity. He seemed too enthralled by Tessa to process
the significance her words. Despite the audience, he took her
extended hand and instead of shaking it, he turned it, raising it
to his lips. She snatched her hand back almost rudely as a spark of
heat seemed to singe her. Though she certainly felt embarrassment,
she did not think it the emotion that caused her cheeks to burn as
they did. Some other impulse had raised the blood in her face.
“Please, call me Jason,” he said with a
smile. The humor in his eyes caught Tessa and lulled her into his
gaze.
“Jason, you are so old-fashioned,” Karen
laughed, and placing her hand again on his arm, she retook
possession of him. Ironically, her actions saved Tessa from her
irrational response to the man. “Even so,” Karen continued, “I can
understand why you found Tessa's comment so amusing. You, I'm sure,
would not enjoy a housewife, subservient and weak. I always pegged
you for the type who would prefer a confident woman. And then
there's childbirth.” Karen's lips rose in a sardonic smirk. “What
those hormones do to a body and a personality! Mothers are so soft
and emotional.” She hardly tried to hide her glance in Tessa's
direction. Once again, Tessa forgot herself, and a stream of
retorts piled on the tip of her tongue, pressing to escape.
As she opened her mouth, however, a deep
voice snatched the words from her lips. She bit her lip in a
triumphant smile when the speaker added some of his own rather
pleasant observations.
“If by confident, you mean someone who has
sacrificed femininity for aggression, then no I don't prefer that
type of strength. Actually, I find that sacrificing personal
pleasure for the benefit of others requires much more strength than
self-promotion does. Plus, I find the softness and innocence of
motherhood quite charming.”
As he said the last words,
Jason appraised Tessa with more intensity than appropriate, and her
triumph faded. While she couldn't help but feel the flattery of his
obvious admiration, Tessa wondered at a man who could so blatantly
admire the wife another man, especially a more powerful man. She
also wondered at the married woman who could
already felt the need to recede into the corners. Why had she let Karen bait her into such a brash
comment? Tessa berated herself. Sudden
chagrin washed over her as she realized how impolitic her words.
When she glanced over at Karen, Tessa expected to see a glare, but
Karen didn't seem even to have noticed Tessa's comment. Instead,
Karen swept grandly past Tessa and latched onto the arm of the
snickering man.
“Jason Cartwright,” Karen purred. “Did we say
something amusing?”
“Not you all,” he replied in a slight
southern drawl, “this lady.” He touched Tessa's arm lightly, and
the sensation sent a shiver over her skin. “I don't believe I've
had the pleasure.”
Turning completely around
to face Mr. Cartwright, she drew in her breath sharply. Never one
to entertain thoughts of any other man, Tessa wondered at her
reaction. Something about Jason Cartwright knocked her off
balance. Perhaps ,
she considered dazedly, it's the hungry
look in his eye. Ducking her head, Tessa
smiled shyly, but she tried to steady her voice and hand. Though in
other circumstances she might have felt unequal to the task, Tessa
would never give Karen Whitfield the satisfaction of seeing her
abashed.
“Hello, Mr. Cartwright.”
Tessa extended her hand with as much confidence as she could
muster. “My name is Tessa Wilson.” As she spoke her name, her usual
self-confidence returned, and the wrongness of his attentions hit
her. Tessa paused for effect, looking challengingly into the man's
eye. “My husband is Merritt Wilson.”
Tessa had no doubt that Mr. Cartwright knew
Merritt Wilson, an executive Vice President of the company, and she
wanted to emphasize to the stranger the impropriety of his
attentions. Jason Cartwright, however, seemed little effected by
Merritt's identity. He seemed too enthralled by Tessa to process
the significance her words. Despite the audience, he took her
extended hand and instead of shaking it, he turned it, raising it
to his lips. She snatched her hand back almost rudely as a spark of
heat seemed to singe her. Though she certainly felt embarrassment,
she did not think it the emotion that caused her cheeks to burn as
they did. Some other impulse had raised the blood in her face.
“Please, call me Jason,” he said with a
smile. The humor in his eyes caught Tessa and lulled her into his
gaze.
“Jason, you are so old-fashioned,” Karen
laughed, and placing her hand again on his arm, she retook
possession of him. Ironically, her actions saved Tessa from her
irrational response to the man. “Even so,” Karen continued, “I can
understand why you found Tessa's comment so amusing. You, I'm sure,
would not enjoy a housewife, subservient and weak. I always pegged
you for the type who would prefer a confident woman. And then
there's childbirth.” Karen's lips rose in a sardonic smirk. “What
those hormones do to a body and a personality! Mothers are so soft
and emotional.” She hardly tried to hide her glance in Tessa's
direction. Once again, Tessa forgot herself, and a stream of
retorts piled on the tip of her tongue, pressing to escape.
As she opened her mouth, however, a deep
voice snatched the words from her lips. She bit her lip in a
triumphant smile when the speaker added some of his own rather
pleasant observations.
“If by confident, you mean someone who has
sacrificed femininity for aggression, then no I don't prefer that
type of strength. Actually, I find that sacrificing personal
pleasure for the benefit of others requires much more strength than
self-promotion does. Plus, I find the softness and innocence of
motherhood quite charming.”
As he said the last words,
Jason appraised Tessa with more intensity than appropriate, and her
triumph faded. While she couldn't help but feel the flattery of his
obvious admiration, Tessa wondered at a man who could so blatantly
admire the wife another man, especially a more powerful man. She
also wondered at the married woman who could
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