He looked breathtaking in a tuxedo, the elegant cut of his clothing emphasising his powerful frame, the breadth of his shoulders and the trimness of his hips. She hadn’t really noticed either of those attributes before. She took a large gulp of wine. Yet she had seen him in a tuxedo before. He’d worn one at Isobel’s wedding. Perhaps that was why she’d asked him to kiss her. A man in a tuxedo was hard to resist. Jason was proving hard to resist. Now that she’d acknowledged just how attracted she was to him, it seemed to be all she could think about. It certainly was all she could feel. And she wondered what could happen—tonight, even—if she let it. She glanced over to where he stood, leaning against one of the living room’s soaring white pillars. Her gaze remained fixed on the column of his throat and she imagined him undoing that little black bow tie, just like he’d undone his shirt buttons, revealing the warm skin underneath… She had a thing about his neck, apparently.
