Seven-Year Seduction. Heidi Betts

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      With that, Beth turned on her heel and walked away. She grabbed her empty glass and the fresh bottle of champagne from the table as she passed, deciding to catch that breath of fresh air, after all. Alone.

      Three

      Connor ran a hand over the top of his head, blowing out a frustrated breath. Well, that had gone just great.

      He’d meant to smooth things over with Beth, try to repair their old but battered friendship, not piss her off all over again. Or even more, depending on how one looked at it.

      And there had to be something seriously wrong with him to be staring at the tight curve of her bottom as she stormed away while she was so obviously annoyed with him and while Lori was watching.

      He couldn’t seem to help himself, though. Beth had been an adorable kid, an attractive teenager, and now, as an adult, she was drop-dead beautiful.

      He cursed himself for thinking it, for noticing her feminine attributes at all. She was his best friend’s sister and he was practically engaged to Lori, for God’s sake. Or at least, they’d been living together for the past three years, and he knew that was what she expected.

      But he was a man, and as much as he might wish it otherwise, he wasn’t made of stone. Beth Curtis had eyes like the Hope Diamond—clear and bright and reflective. With one glance, she could either make him squirm or make him want, freeze him out or set fire to his belly and below.

      She used to wear her chestnut hair in a ponytail or braid, but the older she’d gotten, the more she let it hang long and loose down her back. The wavy strands reminded him of the finest silk, and he wanted to run his fingers through them every time she was near.

      And her body…man, her body had filled out like nothing he’d ever seen. Yeah, Lori was built. Tiny waist, long legs, big breasts. But her chest had been surgically enhanced, and as much as he’d enjoyed the benefits of that work, there was something about the idea of silicone or saline swishing around in there that turned him off. He would never tell Lori he felt that way, of course, but it was true.

      Beth, on the other hand, was just as God had made her. And he’d done a damn fine job. She wasn’t model thin or tall, but he liked that. He liked the way her breasts filled that awful pink-and-green gown without looking fake. He liked the curve of her waist, the flare of her hips, the sweet little behind the cut of her dress alluded to. He even liked the slim expanse of her ankle, visible above the strap of her pink, three-inch heels.

      And that was why he was going straight to hell.

      He pressed a finger and thumb to his eye sockets, thinking—not for the first time—that he was either crazy or the unluckiest bastard around to keep getting into these situations. Beth was practically family, but he couldn’t seem to stop lusting after her.

      Knowing he couldn’t put it off any longer, he dragged his gaze away from Beth’s retreating form and turned to face Lori.

      Beth had been right, she didn’t look happy. Which meant he’d managed to piss off two beautiful women in one night. That was a record, even for him.

      She was sitting at the table where he’d left her, arms crossed over her ample chest, legs crossed, top foot tapping angrily in midair. A pulsing, upbeat dance number shook the floor beneath their feet, but the music failed to permeate Lori’s sour mood.

      Well, this should be fun.

      He started toward her, but she leaped to her feet and met him halfway, fire brimming in her eyes.

      “Hey,” he greeted her, smiling and trying to pretend he didn’t realize how upset she was.

      “So that was her.”

      “Who?” Connor cocked his head slightly, hoping he would catch another glimpse of Beth before she disappeared too deeply into the crowd. No such luck.

      When he turned back around, Lori’s expression was even darker, brows drawn and lips pulled down.

      “Her. She’s the one.”

      “The one, who?” he asked, growing more confused by the minute.

      “The one who’s keeping you from making a commitment to me.”

      “Lori,” he began, scoffing at her accusation.

      “No,” she cut him off. “I knew there was something going on. I knew there was someone or some incident you couldn’t put behind you, but I had no idea it was her. Your best friend’s sister.”

      She said the last as though it was the gravest of insults, and Connor once again felt his insides tighten with shame.

      She was right. Beth was his best friend’s sister—off limits, taboo. What he thought about her those times he couldn’t control his raging hormones, and what they’d done all those years ago, was reprehensible.

      And even though Lori had hit the nail on the head, he wanted to deny it. Needed to deny it.

      “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” he told her, sliding his hands into the pockets of his tux jacket. “Beth and I are friends. We grew up together. She isn’t keeping me from doing anything.”

      “I mean,” she growled, leaning in to be heard over the music, but not by anyone else, “I saw the way you looked at each other. The way you held her while you danced. I’m not blind, Connor. There was more there than friendship. More than dancing with your best friend’s sister.”

      “That’s ridiculous.”

      “It’s not.” Her voice grew thick and tears glistened along her lower lashes. “It explains a lot, actually. Like why there’s no ring on my finger,” she said, holding up her bare left hand as proof. “And why I’m at your best friend’s wedding instead of my own. We’ve been dating for six years, Connor. Living together for three. If that doesn’t prove you have commitment issues, I don’t know what will.”

      She turned her head in the direction Beth had earlier escaped. “Now I know why.”

      “Lori…”

      “I don’t think this is going to work, Connor. I don’t think I can live with you anymore, knowing I’m not the woman you really want to be with.”

      She walked to the table to gather her purse, then returned to stand in front of him. Without meeting his gaze, she murmured, “I don’t think you should come home tonight. Maybe not ever.”

      It crossed his mind to tell her it was his house…she’d moved in with him, not the other way around. But this was hard enough on her. He’d never meant to hurt her, yet here she was, in obvious pain because of him.

      His throat was too tight to speak, so he merely nodded.

      He saw the hitch in her breathing before she straightened her shoulders and left the reception hall like a queen leaving a grand ballroom, head held high, regal to the core.

      Damn, this night just kept getting better and better.

      “Hey, buddy.”

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