A Little Wild

She wants a piece of his rock. He needs her, rock steady, in his heart. Tess Sheridan won’t let anything stop her from making partner at a prestigious law firm, especially her notoriously soft heart. The result? She’s a handful of clients away from getting her name on that brass plate. And she hasn’t had sex in over a year. When her best friend dares her to test-drive her erotic fantasies with a gorgeous stranger, she figures, why not? Loosening the reins will give her inner nympho some well-deserved pampering without jeopardizing her career goals. Zach Halliday has enjoyed his bad-boy reputation to the fullest, but now it’s time to leave the relative safety of the family corporation and prove he can stand on his own in the business world. That doesn’t mean he’ll pass up an opportunity for some incredible phone sex with the beautiful strawberry blonde he met in a bar. When business overlaps with the bedroom, Zach sees something special in Tess and is determined to convince her he’s the man she needs, anytime, anyplace. She can backpedal, but come hell or high-climbing-wall, he wants the fascinating, complicated sex bomb in his bed. Over and over again… Warning: This book contains explicit, melt-your-panties sex (phone and otherwise), and inappropriate use of wild cherry ice cream. Insights on rejuvenating your own inner nympho may be inspired upon reading.

eBooks are not transferable. They cannot be sold, shared or given away as it is an infringement on the copyright of this work. This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental. Samhain Publishing, Ltd. 11821 Mason Montgomery Road Suite 4B Cincinnati OH 45249 A Little Wild Copyright © 2011 by Kate St. James ISBN: 978-1-60928-624-8 Edited by Sue Ellen Gower Cover by Scott Carpenter All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews. First Samhain Publishing, Ltd. electronic publication: November 2011 www.samhainpublishing.com

A Little Wild Kate St. James

Dedication

For Shari, who deserves every wild and wonderful thing that comes her way.

Acknowledgements

Thank you to my husband Steve for his never-ending support, willingness to play golf whenever the spirit moves him (allowing me more time to write), and indulging my belief that making Sloppy Joes for dinner constitutes a “fancy meal”. My appreciation to Jennifer Stark for introducing me to Samhain, and to my editor, Sue-Ellen Gower, for putting up with my myriad newbie questions and for her keen editorial eye. It was a pleasure working on this book with you. Many thanks to Robert Fuller, who patiently answered several emails about corporate law as I wrote the first draft of this story. I tried not to take fictional liberties with your replies, Robert, but a few might have crept in. All factual errors are of course mine. Thanks also to Robert’s wife and my fellow Canuck writing buddy, Gail Fuller, for responding to my online plea for research help and putting me in touch with him. Lastly, I am indebted to my former critique partners and dear author friends, Mary Forbes, Brenda Jernigan, and Jamie Sobrato, for reading an earlier version of this story and offering constructive criticism and insight!

Chapter One

“You can’t ignore the entire male gender, Tess. What will you do about sex?” Tess Sheridan squirmed in her chair in the upscale Vancouver bar. “I’m not ignoring them all, just the—” “Hot guys.” Tess stared down her best friend sitting across the small table. “I will have sex again someday.” She tucked a stray hair into the chignon that had loosened after a long Wednesday perusing contracts. “But I’ve dated up a storm since ditching Warren. What do you want me to do? Send invitations to the whole bunch and stage an orgy?” She’d dumped her manipulative ex-boyfriend a year ago tonight—in this same bar, in fact—inspiring Chloe Nichols to drop into the law firm and drag her to Danver’s Pub for take-stock-of-Tess’s-non-existent-lovelife drinks. Chloe laughed, her dark hair swinging. “Sleeping with one man would suffice. And I’m not talking a member of your guy-pal entourage, either, so don’t worry.” Tess sighed. Why, oh, why had she blabbed her decision to remain celibate? Chloe clearly thought she was nuts. And Tess might, too, in another life. One not influenced by her horrendous workload, her history of wrongwrongwrong, totally wrong relationships, and the biggie: fear of winding up like Mom. She sipped her English Bay Pale Ale, the smooth malt flavor welcome after another warm mid-August day. “Don’t call them my entourage.” She hated the nickname.

Kate St. James

“Well, they are.” “They’re my friends.” The thought of hooking up with any of the men she currently dated gave her hives. Not because she considered them male counterparts of her type-A self, either, which was hardly lust-inspiring—she slept with herself every night. No, sex spelled trouble, plain and simple. She lost perspective, put the guy’s needs ahead of her own. Or at least that was how it always seemed. “Whatever.” Chloe drank her beer. “My point is, you’ve accomplished a great deal since passing the bar exam, yet all you do is work.” “I have to keep working hard if I want to prove myself to Mr. Greenburg,” Tess said above the chatter and soft rock music filling the trendy bar. Greenburg & Associates topped the city’s corporate law firms. Tess had articled with Lawrence Greenburg upon graduating from the University of British Columbia’s competitive law school. He’d been so impressed with her diligence and enthusiasm that he’d offered her a position as junior associate. She owed him for the opportunity to rise quickly through the ranks and someday make partner. And she owed herself that same chance to become both financially and emotionally independent. Self-reliant. Free and unencumbered. Although maybe a little bit lonely. She shook off the dull ache settling over her. “Mr. Greenburg has shown an enormous amount of faith in me by inviting me to sit in on the latest Halliday Enterprises’

consultation.”

Graham

Halliday,

Vancouver’s

wealthiest

entrepreneur, possessed a reputation for generosity and community spirit. Tess looked forward to meeting him at the conference table next week. “I could learn a lot from this acquisition, Chloe. I have to stay focused.” “Focused and orgasm-free.”

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“Chloe, I love you like a chocolate fudge sundae, but you’re trying to distract me. I can’t afford to become emotionally involved with any man right now.” “That’s why you only date dweebs?” “No.” Tess sniffed, feigning insult. “That’s why I’ve only dated casually since Warren.” “Why you always break it off before the third date.” “Why I won’t stay with any man long enough to form an emotional bond,” she corrected. “Hmm.” Chloe drummed her fingers on the polished wood table. “What?” “I think you’re afraid.” Tess blinked. “Ridiculous,” she said as their waitress approached. “I just happen to know what I want.” Chloe set aside her empty beer bottle. “Wanna bet?”

“Why do you keep checking your watch?” Zach Halliday asked his brother, Ethan. They sat on upholstered stools at the brass-trimmed mahogany bar that earned Danver’s Pub kudos with the corporate crowd. “We came here to unwind. Can’t you ignore the ticker for an hour?” Ethan’s lean face broke into a tolerant smile. “Easy for you to say, little brother. You spent the day on the golf course and the evening entertaining the Crockett’s Fine Foods representatives. I, on the other hand, have been embroiled in heavy-duty discussions with Dad and the Halliday accountants.” “Your choice.” Zach sipped his scotch. “You thrive on plotting business strategies and handling negotiations, Eth. You always have. And, you know, playing eighteen holes with Hef Crockett and his merry band of sandbaggers has

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Kate St. James

its drawbacks. All that talk about price points and sales promotions damn near threw my game off.” Ethan smirked. “What did you shoot?” “Seventy-four.” “Two over par? At a tough course like Shaughnessy?” Ethan shook his head. “And you probably made Hef feel fantastic about his game while you creamed him.” Zach shrugged. “I try.” “I’m not joking. You’re a natural at whatever sport you try. Me, I’m lucky to shoot eighty-nine.” “That’s because you never get out on the course.” At thirty-four and with an MBA to his credit, Ethan was their father’s primary advisor—and was usually happy about it. Zach envied Ethan his focus. Eth had found his place in the world early on while Zach had drifted from job to job within the corporation, trying but never fitting in. Now, at thirty, Zach’s meager responsibilities included wooing reps of potential investments like the Crockett’s supermarket chain. He didn’t hold regular office hours, acting more as a consultant while pursuing his own investments. He definitely didn’t contribute to the company coffers the way Ethan did. While their father claimed Zach’s people skills were invaluable, Zach knew Graham Halliday would far prefer it if he became engrossed in the financial or managerial end of the corporation, like Ethan. Problem was, nothing short of the Pacific parting like the Red Sea could motivate Zach’s genuine interest in their father’s holding company for commercial and real estate investments. He wanted to strike out on his own, assert his individuality on a smaller scale. Yet, he couldn’t do that without killing his father’s dreams of building a Halliday family dynasty.

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So he’d continued to drift. But not anymore. “You work too hard, Eth. There’s more to life,” he said in keeping with the laid-back persona his brother expected. He didn’t want Ethan or their father guessing he was up to something. He still had too many balls in the air, and they’d find out soon enough. “I know.” Ethan’s suit jacket shifted on his shoulders. “I’ll get there.” “No time like the present.” Turning, Zach gestured around the bar. The professionals frequenting Danver’s ranged from their twenties to mid-forties. Groups of men and women clustered at the large tables. The small tables featured primarily couples and single women. One such table, close to the antique mirrors in back, looked promising. Even in this dim lighting, Zach noted the two women sitting there chatting with animation. The first was a knockout strawberry blonde with her hair swept up into one of those conservative, flattened-bun things. Unfortunately, from this distance, her suit looked conservative, too. Not what his brother needed. Ethan was conservative enough on his own. The second woman, a sporty model with chin-length dark hair, wore jeans and a snug T-shirt nicely showcasing her generous breasts. She’d have Eth relaxing in no time. “Check out the table by the biggest mirror. That cute brunette could shake you up.” Ethan glanced across the bar. For a second, his brown eyes gleamed. Then he shook his head and sipped his vodka tonic. “I prefer the redhead.” So do I. The instinctive response surprised Zach. However, while the slender woman’s starchy fashion sense probably attracted Ethan, his mind overflowed

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with visions of releasing the pins from her red-gold hair and watching that beautiful mane cascade over her naked shoulders. He’d count every elegant freckle he prayed festooned her curvy body. Maybe lick ’em. Yeah, forget the counting. He’d eat her up. Arousal spiked. Low. Very low. Not keen on sporting an erection in public, he concentrated on football statistics to banish the erotic images. He looked at Ethan. “She looks like a lawyer, maybe a bean-counter.” “Nothing wrong with that.” “She’s your type. Why not go for it?” Just don’t be licking any freckles. “Because me and my type never work out.” An odd relief wove through Zach. “Go for the dark-haired chick, then. Have fun for once.” For the dozenth time since they’d arrived, Ethan checked his Rolex. “The only thing I’m going for tonight is bed.” Zach opened his mouth to flip off a remark, but Ethan’s pointed look stopped him. “Alone. I’m bushed. I’m heading home.” “What? It’s not even nine.” But Zach noticed the lines of fatigue etching his brother’s face. “Hey, no problem. I’m finishing my drink, though.” “Yeah, stay. I want you to. No sense spoiling your evening.” Ethan rose. “Big bro, you know me better than that. I fully intend to relax and enjoy myself.” And fantasize about unlacing one trussed-up strawberry blonde.

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“Excuse me?” Tess asked Chloe after the waitress had taken their orders and left. “I said, let’s make a bet. I think the reason you’ve been celibate a year is because you’re afraid that if you get too close to a man you’ll fall in love. Can’t have that. It might screw with your partnership plans. Instead, you date dweebs and are happy to keep seeing a guy as long as he doesn’t expect more than a goodnight kiss or make you want to jump his bones.” Chloe wagged a finger. “Come on, Tess, I dare you to prove me wrong.” Tess snorted. “Get serious.” While roommates at university, she and Chloe had routinely supported one another through romantic slumps. Every so often, that support had evolved into a harmless dare or bet designed to shake off the moral fetters of their Catholic-schoolgirl childhoods. Although they no longer shared an apartment, Tess knew Chloe as well as she did her two younger sisters. And right now Chloe’s mischievous gaze telegraphed that the she-devil had something evil in mind. “Besides, I’m not in a slump. I’ve chosen to concentrate on work. There’s a difference.” Chloe turned up a hand. “If you say so.” Tess narrowed her gaze. Overwork aside, she itched to snatch up the gauntlet her friend had oh-so-cleverly thrown down. Resisting a challenge was not her forte. “What do you mean?” She took another swallow of beer. The ale warmed her veins and scattered a pleasant buzz through her body. How nice to relax after several weeks of nose-to-the-grindstone paperwork helping a senior partner close several files. Chloe’s voice softened. “Tess, Tess, what am I going to do with you? You have the heart of an angel. That’s what gets you into trouble. Sweetie, you’re

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incapable of sleeping with a man without falling in love. Your track record screams it.” Tess stiffened. “You’re dead wrong.” The waitress returned with two more bottles of pale ale and the tequila shooter Chloe had ordered. Tess waited until the young woman moved to the next table. “I didn’t love Warren.” The lamebrain. Well, now she recognized him as a lamebrain. “Right. You sure thought you did, before you realized how manipulative he was. Then you woke up.” Pfft! But the fine hairs on Tess’s arms lifted, signaling a speck of truth to Chloe’s theory. “What about Kyle Hampton?” Her first lover had been rather creative in the bedroom. Sadly, once they were established as a couple, he’d spent more time with his soccer pals than her. Still, infatuated with his…big hands and convinced he’d learn to find time for their relationship, she’d dated him for several months. Shades of her mother. She shuddered. “Ah, Kyle of the size fourteen shoes. Major warm fuzzies there.” “Warm fuzzies isn’t love.” Tess knew that now. “For you, at barely twenty, it was. And let’s not forget Brad. One quick tumble in the sack, and you were ready to serve your heart to him on a silver platter.” Tess exerted a weak laugh. Oh. Brad Nelson. Yes. Chloe started her second beer. “Face it, Tee, you’re not wired for mindless sex.” No way would she admit that. Age difference aside, Tess already looked like her mother—the queen of confusing sex with intimacy. In times of stress, she was just as fastidious about housekeeping, obsessively tidying her apartment to vent

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her frustrations. She was single-minded and determined, like Mom. She didn’t like conceding failure…and neither did Mom. Agh. Tess gripped her beer glass. Patrice Sheridan had many good points, but at times like this, Tess felt like she only shared the weak ones. “And you are wired for mindless sex?” she asked Chloe. “More than you. Admit it.” “I. Will. Not. Of course I can have sex without falling in love—if I want to.” She just didn’t happen to want to this year. “Matter of fact, that’s stage two of my plan to lead a fulfilling single life.” Unlike many women tiptoeing through their late twenties, matrimony held limited appeal for this lawyer. Her parents’ troubled marriage served as an omnipresent reminder of the hazards of falling too hard too fast. “I’m only celibate now because of my commitment to work. Once I’ve proved my worth to Mr. Greenburg, I’ll sex it up ’til I’m blue in the face.” “Colorful image, but you’re missing the point. Your entourage of dates is your safety net. What you’re really afraid of is risking your heart. And you wouldn’t defend yourself so strongly if you honestly believed that wasn’t true.” Chloe patted her chest. “Damn, my psych degree comes in handy.” Tess downed her beer and reached for the second bottle. Was Chloe right? Did she face a future without sex or love? The possibility sounded incredibly disheartening. But I don’t want love, she reminded herself as she splashed beer into her glass. No matter how much Chloe hounded her, she was certain on that score. Sex, however, was another matter. She wanted loads of it. Tons of it. Gargantuan, sizzling, lust-drenched chunks of it. She’d prove Chloe wrong.

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Twenty minutes later, Tess had polished off her second beer and was eyeing the Screaming Eddie—a tequila shot spiked with Tabasco sauce—her friend had yet to consume. “Let’s see if I have this straight. I pick a man, any man—” “No, he can’t be someone you already know. No enlisting friends or one of your current dates for help. In order to challenge your heart, Tee, we need an element of risk. That means choosing a guy you find exceedingly hot.” Chloe’s logic escaped Tess, although she couldn’t determine precisely how. She’d logged so many extra hours lately trying to impress the senior partners that her second drink had hit her super hard. Her thought processes felt kind of muddled. “A hunk of burnin’ love?” she attempted to clarify. No harm playing along. “Or, as we liked to say when we were young and foolish, a studmuffin.” Perfect. Tess resisted a grin. Even if she planned on following through with Chloe’s scheme—and she didn’t—she wasn’t in danger of falling for a selfabsorbed studmuffin. Warren, while not to-die-for handsome, had possessed enough good looks and charm to cure her of that particular beast. On the rare occasions she did dream of marrying—like maybe once she turned fifty and images of old age encroached—her fantasies revolved around sincere, homely types. “All right, so I can’t already know him, and I can’t tell him about the bet.” This was fun. And what better place to partake—well, lead on Chloe a little— than within the safety of conservative Danver’s? “Let’s get started. I’ll make contact tonight—” “Just contact? Why not take him home?” “Because! I do have some morals. I’d like to date him once or twice first.” “Tess, I was kidding. Making contact tonight is great. Providing you can pick out a hunk from among this boring sea of suits.”

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“A business suit does not a dullard make, Chlo.” “It doesn’t help.” “Now you’re trying to dissuade me?” An easy out. Her brilliance knew no bounds. “Never.” Chloe sipped her beer. “How about this? You approach the guy, give him your phone number. If he doesn’t call within a few days, you do. But don’t ask for his number. That might seem too predatory, scare him off. You know how guys are. Just make sure you get his last name, and you can look him up in the book or online.” “That’s not predatory?” It sounded predatory. Chloe scoffed. “Any true hottie would be flattered.” “Gotcha.” With any luck, Tess’s hottie would have an unlisted phone number. But she couldn’t count on that eventuality, so she’d slip him a fake number of her own and hope Chloe didn’t catch on. For good measure, and in case Chloe asked, she’d invent a fake name for him, too. Exhilaration whipped through her. Could she do this? Yes. No. All right, maybe halfway do it. Long enough to prove her point to Chloe. She scanned the bar for potential targets. Tread carefully, girl. She couldn’t let Chloe suspect that she didn’t intend to take this silly dare beyond tonight. She’d establish her brilliance by hitting on some gorgeous, conceited sap who wouldn’t remember what she looked like tomorrow. Then she’d sit down her best friend for a lengthy heart-to-heart until Chloe admitted that Tess’s plan for a carefree life was possible—on her timetable, not Chloe’s.

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Meanwhile, she’d have a blast tricking her friend into thinking she intended to pursue a hookup. Any embarrassment she experienced approaching a guy would be worth it to prove Chloe wrong. “And you have to date him for at least six weeks,” Chloe said. “Exclusively. That eliminates your worry about sleeping with one guy while dating others.” “How generous of you.” “I think so.” Tess smiled. She could agree to anything, because she had a loophole. Best friends didn’t hold one another to bets conspired while buzzed. “If you’re bouncing the mattress with him most of that time, I predict you’ll fall in love with him, too,” Chloe said. “So no one-night stands and then you ask him to be your bud, Tee. The challenge is to really get to know this man, in bed and out. If you do that and still don’t fall in love with him, you win. Then I’ll believe this great plan of yours to remain single.” “And the stakes?” Tess felt compelled to ask. For no other reason than she should gain familiarity with what she’d owe come pay-up time. “The usual.” “One carton?” “I’m hungry. Let’s make it ten.” Tess’s mouth watered. Chloe definitely knew how to tempt her. Tess surveyed the tables, found them a wee bit lacking in the hottie department, then glanced at the big mahogany bar. Her gaze tripped along the barstools. Wasn’t there a mark in the whole damn pla— Her heart kicked. That’s him! Sitting on a stool with a group of laughing men and women surrounding him, from this distance the guy appeared sensual and earthy-looking. Standing, he’d measure about six feet tall. An amber polo shirt stretched across his wide

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shoulders, and his dark brown hair looked thick and casually mussed, as if he’d spent the day hiking Grouse Mountain instead of locked in a Burrard Street boardroom. Just my type. No, not my type. Focus, Tess, focus. He probably had dreamy, dark-lashed brown eyes to go with his dark hair, too. Roguish, handsome features highlighted his friendly-looking face. And his smile… As if he sensed her staring, his head turned. Like in a thousand romantic movies in a thousand darkened theaters, their gazes caught and refused to let go. His sexy smile widened, and Tess’s heart slid to her toes. Come to Mama. Another guy in the group patted his shoulder, and the mark turned back to his friends. Tess sucked in a breath. “Got him.” She pointed him out as his friends headed to the exit. The mark remained seated, oozing confidence and sex appeal. Chloe eyeballed his side view. “Oooh, Tee, I approve.” “Good.” She grabbed the tequila shot and downed it. She shivered with distaste as the fiery Tabasco and the over-strong burn of liquid sin razed her throat and flamed wildly through her veins. “Hey, that was mine!” “Tough.” Hitting on a stranger required more courage than her usual twodrink limit offered. She stood, smoothed her skirt over her hips, and announced, “I’m going in.”

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Chapter Two

“Hi,” a soft, feminine voice barely audible above the pub’s sound system murmured behind Zach. Turning on his barstool, he saw the slender strawberry blonde who, moments earlier, had been sitting at the table near the ornate mirrors. “Hi yourself.” Up close, she was more than a knockout. She was breathtaking. A few strands of molten-sunshine hair had escaped her conservative hairstyle to feather in waves along her slim neck. Long lashes framed her demure, light blue eyes. But the way she propped one hand on her hip and the husky timbre of her voice was anything but demure. Interesting. Minutes ago, when their gazes had met, Zach had sensed shyness in droves. Now, the intriguing allure of her madonna-minx appeal pulled at him. Pleasure filled him that she hadn’t ventured to the bar while he’d chatted with the Halliday employees on their way out. He might have missed her in the commotion. And that would have been a damn shame. “Um, excuse me.” She death-gripped her purse, her voice shifting from sensual to something approaching awkward. “Sorry.” Zach rose to allow her better access to the bar, but her light blush stopped him from stepping aside. The pale freckles he’d imagined—and was gratified to see she possessed—enhanced her delicate features and high cheekbones.

A Little Wild

Then she angled her arm in a manner emphasizing her breasts beneath her pale yellow business suit, and, for a second time, he glimpsed minx. His woman-on-the-prowl radar went on alert. “I’m not in your way, am I?” He set his drink on the bar. “Not yet.” Her smile wavered. “But if you play your cards right, you could be.” He chuckled at the horrendous pickup line. “And I take it you’d be more than happy to fall into my lap.” Uncertainty flashed in those stunning blue eyes. She cleared her throat. Moved closer. Was that tequila he detected on her breath? “I’ve been watching you all evening,” she murmured. “Do you come here often?” “You mean, what’s my sign?” Zach enjoyed their exchange of retro clichés. However, as much as he loved women and wasn’t unaccustomed to getting hit on, something about Miss Strawberry Surprise didn’t jive. “Look, I don’t want to embarrass you or sound like I’m not interested, but are you sure you want to be doing this?” If the tequila were responsible for the strange vibes floating off her, she might regret it tomorrow. Her blue eyes rounded, making her look impossibly young and innocent, yet also guilty. Damn, but she had the cutest tilt to the tip of her aristocratic nose. “Yes, I want to do this. I have to.” She tensed, inhaled. “Um, I’d like a date. That is, would you like a date? Uh, just for the evening—uh, night—um, for a start?” “You’re a hooker?” Her hand jerked off her hip. “Of course not! I said ‘for a start’.”

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“Whoops. Initially, you said ‘for the night’.” “I know.” She winced. “I didn’t mean to. What I meant to say was that I’d like a date sometime. Not necessarily—uh, definitely not tonight.” A smile tugged his mouth. “Definitely not tonight, huh?” “No. I came with a friend, so I shouldn’t.” Oh yeah, the security-in-pairs game. She glanced away. “Damn it, I’m screwing this up. I’m nervous.” Zach gazed at her. Why should she feel nervous? If she’d been watching him like she claimed, she’d have noticed he didn’t bite…unless the woman in question requested it. And tonight he’d done nothing but joke around and relax since entering the place with Ethan— His brain snapped to attention. Ethan. Of course. His brother had organized tonight, choosing the bar, the time, where they’d sit, then had kept checking his watch as if waiting for something to happen. When Ethan left, maybe thirty minutes after they’d arrived, he’d specifically mentioned wanting Zach to stay. Had Ethan known Miss Strawberry would be here? Had he perhaps even set it up? Ethan’s work schedule would give most men angina, yet every few months he blew off steam by playing a practical joke on Zach or their dad, so it wasn’t impossible. Zach would throttle the truth out of his brother tomorrow. In the meantime, he’d one-up the jackass by throwing Miss Strawberry a curve. He remained standing. “Don’t be nervous. I’d love to take you out. What’s your name?” Her gaze narrowed. “What’s yours?” “Jack Halloran.” Let her stew for a bit, think she’d hit on the wrong guy.

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The pad of her thumb bumped his palm as they shook hands. “Tess…S.,” she stammered. Apparently, she didn’t want to use her real name, either. “Tess Ess?” he teased. “That Spanish?” Her freckles nearly disappeared beneath another blush. She moistened her lips, stepped closer. “Tess,” she said, voice husky. “Tess S.,” she repeated. Like he’d ever forget. Her seductive gaze ensnared him as her soft smile whipped through his veins. His undisciplined cock sprang to life. “Do you have a pen?” she asked. “A—” Think, Halliday. “What?” “Never mind.” She fetched a pen from her purse and a cardboard coaster from the bar. She scribbled on the coaster and passed it to him: TESS S. A telephone number followed. “Call me.” She hiccupped. He grinned. “No last name?” “Not unless we actually go out.” At least she possessed a few street smarts. He examined the scrawled number. “Is that a one or a seven?” No reply. He glanced up. She’d disappeared. He surveyed the bar to see her threading back toward her table, her prim ass and long legs attracting several male glances. Her companion stood, and they headed for the washrooms—the refuge of every female he knew. What the hell did women do together in the washroom? Would they talk about him? His ego liked to think so. “She works around here, you know,” the bartender said.

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“Huh?” Zach climbed onto his stool. “Where?” “Not sure,” the brawny man answered. “Doesn’t come in often. Always thought she was classy. Sure never seen her hit on a customer before.” He pointed at the coaster. “Maybe she’s gone whacko. Want me to toss that for you?” “Nope.” Whacko or not, she fascinated him. Madonna or minx—which was it? He looked at the coaster again, tapped it. There was only one way to find out.

Ethan Halliday had better things to do than listen to his brother drone on about some woman he’d met in the bar. A stack of financial reports threatened to topple over and spew their contents on his desk, and his computer kept dinging reminders of a meeting with their father. A meeting he’d attend without Zach, at Dad’s request. Ethan reclined in his leather chair, mimicking Zach’s slack posture in the visitor’s chair facing his desk. A sad thing when he needed to ape relaxation, but there it was. “Zach, I told you, before last night I’ve never seen your mystery woman. I only specified Danver’s for drinks because of its proximity to the Halliday parking garage.” A small lie intended to cut short his brother’s inquisition. Ethan had noticed the redhead in Danver’s a couple of times over the last several months. However, usually she sat with business-suited clones of himself. He’d certainly never spotted her with the large-breasted brunette who worked at his favorite coffeehouse. That green-eyed, smart-mouthed dynamo whose body invaded his dreams and whose full lips looked perfect for—

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He chucked his pen on the desk. Why fantasize about a sex life he lacked energy to pursue? Zach tapped a denim-covered knee. “It’s not like you haven’t pulled a fast one on me many times before, Eth. I’ll admit, not of this magnitude, but—” “But, schmut,” Ethan interrupted as the computer dinged again. Had he really set the reminder tone for every two minutes? “I don’t know her from Adam. Believe me, if I had any time right now to cut loose, I’d take off to Vegas or the Gulf Islands—” with a certain gorgeous brunette he’d love to invite along “—not spend it dreaming up ways to score you another woman.” Zach laughed. “I thought that was the point. Get her to hit on me and then disappear, so I’d go nuts trying to track her down.” “I thought she gave you her phone number.” “She did. In a manner of speaking.” “You’re talking in riddles, bro.” Zach straightened in his chair. “It’s okay with you if I ask her out?” “Why wouldn’t it be?” “Because last night you said you preferred her over the brunette.” “Oh. Right.” Ethan had pretended disinterest in the dark-haired spitfire so his brother wouldn’t goad him to hit on her. A woman like that would drain the last vestiges of energy from his mind and body, leaving him a lifeless but extremely well-satiated husk. “Forget me. You know I live to crunch numbers. Go for it, Zach.” “You’re sure?” “How many times do I have to say this? Yes.” Zach’s hands shot up. “Okay.” The computer double-dinged, and Zach’s eyebrows hoisted. “What’s with the Son of Hal there, Eth? You late rearranging your sock drawer?”

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“Cute. I have a meeting.” He clicked the Reminder icon on the computer screen. “Now.” “With who?” Zach pushed out of his chair. “Can’t say.” Ethan didn’t like keeping corporate secrets from his brother. However, for reasons he’d soon discover, for once their father didn’t want him trying to tempt Zach’s participation in a meeting with details. “Don’t worry.” Zach ambled to the door. “I’m not interested, anyway. I have an appointment of my own to get to.” “Business?” Zach glanced back. “Nope.” The story of their lives—Ethan did what was necessary, and Zach did whatever he wanted. Ethan loved his brother, but sometimes Zach’s lax attitude frustrated him as much as it did their father.

“Buddy, can you believe I did that? I still can’t believe I did that!” Three days had passed since Tess had foolishly hurled herself into Chloe’s trap. Hitting on a studmuffin? What had she been thinking? Groaning, she placed a bowl of shredded lettuce and diced apple inside the budgie’s cage then closed the door. Buddy chirped, fluffed his powder-blue feathers, and pecked the treat. “Chloe knows how to press my buttons, that’s for sure. A bet? Yeah, she suckered me, all right. And she’s a pit bull—she won’t give up. Five times she’s called me since Wednesday night, Bud. ‘Has he phoned you?’ ‘Have you phoned him?’ It’s enough to make me wish I did have the nerve to call up Jack Halloran and ask him over for the hottest sex of his life.”

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Buddy chirped again. “No, you can’t watch. I’m not that kinky.” Sighing, Tess folded her arms over her bathrobe and padded in sock-clad feet across worn hardwood floors to the living room window. Mature birch trees and thriving junipers flanked the low apartment buildings dominating her Fairview neighborhood. The gray skies forecasted rain, but the cool temperatures didn’t stop the joggers and stroller-wielding couples from taking to the sidewalks. Vancouverites were notorious for their love of the outdoors. Usually, an August Saturday afternoon would find her enjoying the summer, too, regardless of the weather. But all day—all week, since hitting on Jack Halloran—she’d felt like a cartoon character walking around with a dark cloud hanging over her head. Out of sorts. Out of balance. Unhinged. Her bad mood was all Chloe’s fault, damn the devious little…fiend. Chloe’s aggravating psychobabble about Tess’s alleged inability to separate sex from love had infiltrated her brain and jumbled her ordered life. When she went to bed, the doubts assaulted her. When she woke up, they were still there, jeering. Had Chloe nailed it? Was Tess afraid? So she didn’t want to repeat her mother’s mistake of giving her heart to a man who didn’t truly love her, no matter how wonderful a father and provider he might otherwise be. She refused to be a slave to her emotions. It wasn’t worth it. Falling in love always carried a cost. But just because she didn’t want to fall in love didn’t mean she was afraid to. She wanted to rely on herself, no one else.

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What was wrong with that? At least weekend work would distract her from the niggling doubts Chloe had planted. In a matter of days, research for the Halliday acquisition would deluge several of the firm’s junior associates. Tess wanted to hit the ground running, so she’d already pored over the background material. However, although she loved her job and longed to exceed her boss’s expectations, she couldn’t bury herself in legal documents twenty-four/seven. Her head would explode. Turning from the window, she dabbed a finger to the face mask she’d applied before feeding Buddy. Another five minutes should do it. Then ten more on top of that for the deep-conditioning treatment saturating her hair. While waiting, she’d brew tea. For the first time in weeks, she didn’t have a Saturday night date. Her reasons for turning down one of her male friends had bupkus to do with Chloe’s ridiculous proviso that she date Jack Halloran exclusively, either. If she wanted a clear head for Monday, she needed major rest. She’d devote the next several hours to buffing, waxing, plucking—routine maintenance—then lose herself in a legal thriller before collapsing into bed. As she headed for the kitchen, the phone rang. She picked up her old cordless resting on the curvy-legged table between Buddy’s standing birdcage and an overstuffed leaf-green armchair. Tess had chosen the chair and sofa set herself, and she loved them, but the table was a castoff from one of her mother’s redecorating binges. Queen Anne all over the house, until Patrice Sheridan had replaced every last stick with her current Santa Fe. “Hello?” Tess answered without checking the incoming number. “Hey, girl.” “Hi, Chloe,” she muttered, anticipating her friend’s question. “Has he called?”

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Bingo. “Chloe, no.” Honestly, paper training a puppy must be easier than dealing with Chloe Nichols in determined-to-drive-Tess-crazy mode. “It’s been, what, an hour since you asked? Have you considered that every time he tries the line is busy?” “You have call waiting.” “He still hasn’t phoned.” Thanks to Tess’s fake-number brainwave. She allowed a small grin at her craftiness. “Then you phone him.” “Not enough time has passed.” Oh, she was good. “Yes, it has.” Guilelessness cheered Chloe’s tone, and guilt pummeled Tess. By now, she should have admitted her plan not to follow through with the bet. However, visions of Jack Halloran’s soul-deep, coffee-brown eyes and sensual lips kept bungling her good intentions. Her fantasies had provided ample fodder for several hothothot, erotic dreams—and she didn’t want to give them up. Entirely understandable, given that she hadn’t had sex in over a year. Okay, logic argued that she should be able to confess all to her best friend and still indulge in lusty dreams about Jack Halloran every night. However, for some reason, hiding the truth enabled her to imagine she really possessed the brass ovaries to unleash her inner nympho by jumping the man’s gorgeous bones. A loud rap clattered at the door. “Just a second, Chlo. I need to get that.” “You’ll be getting some soon if you call him.” “The door, ditz. Somebody’s knocking.” Phone to her hip, Tess opened the door. Chloe stood in the hallway, cell phone jammed to her ear. “Surprise!” Chloe snapped shut the cell phone.

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Tess smiled, and the clay mask tightened. “You’re a nut.” She placed her cordless on the kitchen counter. “Why aren’t you at work?” she asked as Chloe sailed inside, closing the door. “I changed the schedule. I’m tired of working weekends. Besides, I’m the boss, so I can do what I want. Right now I want to be here pestering you.” Chloe gave her a wry once-over. “Real attractive.” Pestering was bang on. But Tess was always glad to see Chloe. “Would you like tea? I was about to make some.” “Ugh. I manage a coffeehouse. How can you ask?” “You once drank it by the vat, that’s how.” “I converted. Sue me. Do you have juice?” “Orange.” “Make it pineapple.” “I have orange.” “Mmph.” Chloe flicked a hand indicating she’d settle. Tess poured them each a glass of cold, pulpy orange juice while Chloe walked through the kitchen to sit at the teak dining room table Tess had harvested from her mother’s Scandinavian phase. Tess handed a glass to Chloe then took a chair. “Thanks.” Chloe patted her cell now lying on the dark teak. “I want you to call him.” “No.” Tess’s mouth moved stiffly beneath the clay mask. “No? Ten cartons, Tee. Can you give that up? That’s ten huge cartons of West Coast Charlie’s Best! gourmet wild cherry ice cream. Yum.” “It doesn’t matter.” Goodbye lusty dreams. So long sizzling fantasies featuring one eager-to-please, curl-my-toes hottie. “I’ll have to pay up. I can’t call him.”

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Chloe sipped her orange juice. “Why not?” “Because,” she hedged. “He can’t call me.” She expected Chloe to press for clarification, but none came. “Yes, he can. He just hasn’t. The idiot. Doesn’t he realize what he’s missing? You’re a prize, Tee. I tell you, if I were a lesbian, I’d sleep with you myself.” Despite her gloomy mood, Tess chuckled. “Thanks. But he still can’t call me.” Confession time. “I gave him a fake phone number.” Chloe imparted her trademark evil grin. “I’m way ahead of you, lass o’ mine. You thought I wouldn’t guess you’d try to weasel out of this? It’s been ages since our university dares. I figured you’d be rusty. You have led a rather sedate life these last couple of years.” “My life isn’t sedate. I date up a—” “Storm. Yeah, yeah. Read the book, saw the movie. Compared to most women our age, your life is sedate, with a capital S.” Chloe sipped her juice again. “Don’t worry, though. Auntie Chloe’s here to help.” Tess’s conditioner-coated hair chilled her neck. “What did you do?” “Checked the listings. Good news. There’s a Jake Halliwell on West 15th.” Tess’s face burned. On Wednesday night she’d told Chloe that Jack’s name was Jake Halliwell. Since then, not once had she considered that her friend might try to look him up. “Ohhh,” she groaned, stomach churning. “Chloe, nooo.” “Oh yes.” Chloe beamed. “There’s a Jacob Halliwell in Surrey, too, but somehow I doubt your Jake is the Surrey sort.” “Chloe, please tell me you didn’t call either of those numbers. This was my deal. It should proceed at my pace.” “If it proceeded at your pace, you’d be eighty-four before you got some.” “I. Would. Not.”

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“You. Would. Too.” Tucking her cell into her purse, Chloe stood. “Relax, I didn’t call anyone. That’s not to say I won’t, though. If you don’t get your ass in gear, sweetie, I’m calling him. I’ll pretend you had an attack of shyness and asked me to. A bit juvenile, but it could work. You really do need to get a life, you know. What sort of friend would I be if I didn’t assist you?” “A friend who knows when to butt out? Who might think about getting her own life?” A saintly look befell Chloe’s features. “I have a life. It might stink at the moment, but it’s there. Besides, one dismal case at a time, and it’s your turn. Don’t bring out the no-dares-while-buzzed thing. I’m not buying.” There went her loophole! Chloe lacked all honor. The ratbag glanced at her watch. “Nice chatting, but I have errands to run.” Tess jumped out of her chair. “Chloe, wait! Please don’t call the West 15th number. Jake Halliwell doesn’t exist. Well, obviously, he does if he’s in the listings. But he’s not my Jake. There is no ‘my Jake’. I made up the name.” Chloe’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t believe it. You’re not that sneaky.” “It’s true!” “Really? A bogus phone number for you and a fake name for him? Tee, I’m impressed. What’s his real name?” “It doesn’t matter. I already said I’m paying the ten cartons. The bet’s off.” Chloe shrugged. “You never know, he still might call.” “Without my number? Only if he has ESP,” Tess said as she walked the rat out.

Chloe Nichols started her cute, silver New Beetle convertible. Funky car aside, she was a mighty sad case. Getting her thrills from mucking about in her

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best friend’s sorry excuse for a love life? She’d sunk to the low of all lows, the pathetic pits of my-love-life-sucks despair. Good for Tess that she’d tried to sidestep Chloe’s dare. However, Chloe had another surprise in store for her friend. If fate and the hunkalicious from the bar cooperated, at least one of them would get lucky. Soon. And Tess would crawl kicking and screaming out of her rut. Regrettably, Chloe’s own rut was necessary. A carefully orchestrated strategy she’d yet to confess to her best friend for fear she’d come off more hopeless than she felt. Tess’s hangup was that she was afraid to get involved with a man. Chloe’s problem was that when she liked a guy, she liked him too quickly. Bodily quickly. Hop-his-bones quickly. Which sounded fun—and was—but each time resulted in the relationship disintegrating beneath the weight of a pressing concern. Did she fall for a guy because he was amazing in bed or because they truly connected? She steered her car out of the small parking lot for Tess’s building and turned onto the streaming traffic flow of Granville Street. One thing she knew, with her biological clock starting this annoying ticking, she needed to stick to her Lent commitment not to date for six months. Because dating led to kissing, and kissing led to Touching of Breasts, and Touching of Breasts led to a rowdy marathon between the sheets. Which was fine and wonderful and absolutely desirable if one didn’t secretly yearn to settle down and pop out a few babies with a nice, stable, yet sexually exciting guy who wouldn’t leave her within weeks of discovering she was pregnant. Growing up fatherless had hit that requirement home good.

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Sighing, she zippy-lane-changed between a navy Volvo sedan and a battered Accord. Weak shafts of sunlight eked through the low clouds, and the rushing breeze from driving with the top down fluttered her hair. As she danced her fingers on the steering wheel, a droolworthy image of nice and stable filled her mind: The Suit. Although she kept her distance from the tall businessman, or lawyer, or maybe stockbroker—as in she no longer served him when he came into Whole Latte Lovin’—from the conversations she caught between the guy and her employees, he seemed nice enough. With his fawn-colored eyes and shorttrimmed, light brown hair, he was definitely attractive. Too bad he was a Suit. A horn blared, and a harsh voice bellowed, “Hey, rack-for-brains! Watch it!” Heart hammering, she swerved back into her lane. “Sorry!” She glanced at the oaf glaring out a Hummer window, then gazed down at her bazookas. Rack for brains? Okay, she was a little top-heavy, but that was just insulting. Eat my bra, buddy. Staying ahead of the Hummer—but safely in her lane now—she zoomed onto the Granville Street Bridge. Lent was in March; now it was August. Only one more month until she lifted her self-imposed ban on dating. Then the trick would be not having sex too soon with whoever she began seeing. This time she wanted to ensure that what she felt for the guy was real.

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Chapter Three

Zach thumbed the Danver’s coaster. Beside him, on a sleeping pad protecting the leather couch, Lump sprawled on his back, white paws spreadeagled as if he’d overdosed on catnip, and his hairy black belly exposed. The big feline’s tongue protruded from a clasped mouth. Not a worry in the world. The cat had the right idea. Zach’s life should be so simple. But no, he got seedy lawyers only wanting to incorporate his small business in exchange for a direct line to the Halliday Enterprises’ money trough. Assholes more interested in billing his father’s company for future work than in helping him. He thumbed the coaster again—a welcome distraction. Like he’d done fifty times tonight already, he read the inked, block letters. T-E-S-S. Then he whispered her name, “Tess.” Even the sound was seductive, the way it ended soft and slow. Yet he remembered the wariness in her eyes Wednesday night, as if she’d honestly wanted to approach him, while, at the same time, she’d rather have been anywhere else. As then, the contrasts mocked him. Madonna-minx. Shy vixen. He couldn’t get her out of his mind. He reached for the cordless on the coffee table then immediately drew back his hand. Something was amiss with Miss Strawberry Surprise—he’d have to be demented not to realize that. While Ethan had insisted he’d never before met the woman, Zach had reason to believe his brother was lying.

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He gazed at a crumpled slip of paper on the coffee table. Yeah, he had reason, all right. Eth, if you are pulling a fast one, I’ll clobber you into next Tuesday. But unless Zach fell in line with the hoax, how would he ever know? He hated his brother getting the better of him like this. So. All right. Either Zach thwarted Ethan by ending this thing here and now. Or he played out the game and saw how far Miss Strawberry would go. The latter option pulled at him. She was so beautiful. Serene, sophisticated and Kidman-esque. “You’re losing it, Halliday,” he mumbled. He could pick up the damn phone, dial any one of a dozen numbers, and quickly locate warm female companionship for the rest of the afternoon and long into the night. Sane companionship. Simple, uncomplicated, pleasurable. Instead, he had a hankering to expose Miss Strawberry’s secrets. “Tess,” he whispered again, and need curled in his gut. He stared at the phone, leaned forward. He should have his head examined.

Jack Halloran’s hands were all over her, caressing her breasts, her tummy, her thighs…parting her legs, slowly, deliberately…nearly there, nearly touching her clit…ohhh…then drifting away again, teasing, tormenting, filling her with unquenchable lust. Letting out a whimper, Tess slid deeper into the tub. Hot water skimmed her chin as her freshly washed hair floated around her. Millions of jasmine-scented bubbles lapped at her raised knees and buoyed her arms.

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If she sank low enough, consciously clearing her mind, and allowed the soothing effects of a long, hot soak to take over, her fantasies of Jack Halloran would vanish down the drain with the bubbles. They had to. She’d be useless at work on Monday if she didn’t free herself from these maddening physical distractions. And Chloe wondered why Tess intended to remain celibate while she worked her way up at the firm. Surrendering to the demands of her body always messed with her head. She needed focus, not diversions. In a few years, she’d rethink things, dip her toes into the sex pool again. There’d be other men like Jack Halloran. She had plenty of time. A hollow ache balled in her chest. Plugging her nose, she submerged herself completely. The weight of the water thumped in her ears, and welcome heat drenched her skin. When her lungs contracted, she came up for air. The phone on the lowered toilet lid rang. She tugged the towel on the inside-tub rod to dry her face. Usually, she didn’t bring the telephone into the bathroom. However, last night her youngest sister had called to report that their mother was experiencing a major housecleaning fit. At such times, their father made himself scarce, which upset Patrice Sheridan, who maintained she only kept a perfect house to please him. In truth, Tess and her sisters realized their mother entered housecleaning overload whenever she felt neglected or under some other equally disturbing Mike-Sheridan-induced stress. Calling each of her daughters and griping about Dad seemed to calm Mom. Curving her wet hair behind one ear, Tess sat halfway up in the tub. She glanced at the call display. Private. Frowning, she clicked Talk. “Yes?” “Tess S.?”

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Jack! Her nipples contracted into tight, tingling peaks. She could blame the reaction on the fact that warm, sudsy water no longer covered her breasts, but she knew better. Her body had responded to his low, sensual voice in much the same way Wednesday night. Wait. How had he found her phone number? She jerked up. Her elbow hooked the towel, dragging it into the water. Shit! “Just a minute.” She fumbled with the wet terry cloth. Too late. It was soaked through. And plastered against her stiff nipples. “Tess?” he repeated, concern softening his deep voice. She anchored the towel beneath her arms to prevent it from skating around and destroying her precious bubbles. She leaned back against the tub, the jasmine-scented water splashing and her breathing choppy. In her rush, she’d positioned the towel width-wise, and the wet terry cloth hovered at the tops of her thighs. “Sorry, I…wasn’t dressed.” Her face warmed. His concern segued into libidinous male interest. “Now you are?” “Um, kind of.” “Too bad,” he murmured. The drenched towel rasped against her nipples, and a satisfying buzz centered between her thighs. She wiggled her hips, and the buzz deepened. Hmm. She’d never before considered the erotic possibilities of having a towel in the tub—but she did now. Of course, she wouldn’t act on those urges. At least not while she had Jack on the phone. Unless, well, he could participate, too. She shook her head to dispel the hot fantasy. How had he found her? The fake number she’d passed him wasn’t anything like her own. The directory listed

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her as T. A. Sheridan—a far cry from Tess S. And she’d opted out of every online listing she could find. “I’m surprised you could reach me,” she said warily. His gravely chuckle spread through her. “I’ll bet.” She didn’t want to think about bets. “How did you get this phone number?” “You gave it to me, remember?” No, she hadn’t. And he knew so. That he’d discovered it should alarm her. Aside from Wednesday night, she’d never met him before. He could be a lunatic—or worse. Yet, something in Jack Halloran’s voice reassured her that he was quite sane. Recalling his affable responses to her botched pickup lines mollified her fears, too. If he’d wanted to take advantage of her, he could have done so Wednesday night. But he hadn’t. “Yeah, Jack, about that number…” She let her voice trail off. She’d circumvent the truth out of him, a handy trick learned in law school. For a moment, he didn’t respond. Then the friendly tone she remembered from Danver’s returned. “Don’t worry about it. Women give me fake phone numbers all the time. That’s why I blocked mine before I called. In case you were toying with me again.” Despite a few loitering notes of caution, she smiled. As if any woman wouldn’t love the attention of a gorgeous guy like Jack Halloran. He probably beat back hordes of adoring females on a daily basis. Relaxing, she planted a foot on the tub’s overflow vent. The loosening towel rubbed her sensitized flesh, and the warm, bubbly water caressed her bikinitrimmed mound.

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Mmm. She closed her eyes and luxuriated in the bliss of her arousal. Her fingers yearned to move with the water’s flow, to touch, dip, stroke, indulge herself…just a little bit…please. What would be the harm? Jack wouldn’t know what she was doing, he couldn’t, unless she chose to tell him. A sensuous shiver raced through her. “And you’re a PI?” she asked, her voice sounding languorous in the steam-filled bathroom. “That’s how you dig up the real numbers?” “No. Your friend gave me yours as you were leaving.” “She did what?” Tess bolted upright in the tub. The towel slipped and jasmine-scented froth slopped out onto the bathmat. Chloe was about to become one very dead best fiend! No wonder she’d grinned the whole time she was here. She’d outwitted Tess at every turn. “You were ahead of her leaving the pub, so maybe you didn’t notice,” Jack said. “She said you experience temporary dyslexia when you drink and might have written down the wrong phone number by mistake.” “I don’t get temporary dyslexia!” Was there such a thing? “Then you admit you gave me the wrong number on purpose?” “I—” The towel drifted onto her lower legs. She kicked it partway off. She should drown herself. Here and now. Save herself the humiliation of dealing with the consequences of Chloe’s treachery. “Or was hitting on me the tequila talking?” Tess lifted a hand. “No. I wasn’t drunk, I promise.” Drinking and debauching wasn’t her style. That she’d hit on Jack while slightly buzzed was bad enough, but when she slept with him—uh, if—she intended to be stone-cold sober. Well, not cold, exactly. Probably extra warm.

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Ooh Godddd, she really was going nuts. The point was, when and if they ever did it, she wanted to be fully aware of every delicious moment. With a studmuffin like Jack Halloran at her disposal, she certainly wouldn’t risk dulling her senses with alcohol. “Just tipsy, then?” he persisted. “More like emboldened.” His hearty laugh caressed her ear. “Tess S., you amaze me.” Her nipples tingled. She slid back into the sudsy water, re-covering rebellious body parts. “Yes, emboldened,” she stated in her best authoritative-lawyer tone. “Take it or leave it. It’s my final offer.” “I’ll take it. When would you like to go out?” “Out?” “Yeah, our date. You do recall asking for one?” “Yes, but…” Sinful heat danced in her veins. Here was her chance to prove Chloe wrong—for real this time. And what a perfect opportunity to quash her own doubts. She could have that carefree life she’d always envisioned. All she had to do was start by saying yes to Jack. She trailed her hand down her bubble-strewn thigh, and sensation arrowed between her legs. As a matter of fact, she could start right now. Considering the signals her insistent body kept sending her, it wouldn’t take much to rev herself up again. Treat herself to some titillating phone action—and go a little wild. She was safe with Jack. Somewhere deep inside herself, an illogical but steadfast seed blossomed. She felt safer with a man she’d met three days ago

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than she did with her platonic male friends. She felt incredibly safe…and a million kinds of naughty. She deserved this. Yes, she did. She deserved to take him with her. “Uh, Tess?” Zach asked for the second time since they’d settled on a dinner date for next weekend. Her soft breathing traveled over the line, distracting him to hell. And leading his overeager imagination in intriguing directions. When she’d answered the phone, the distinct sound of water splashing had led him to believe she was just getting out of a lazy afternoon bath. The images that had bombarded his mind—slim hips curving into a firm, full ass, pert nipples cresting milky-skinned breasts that lifted as she reached for a bathrobe— had brought him to an almost-painful state of arousal. He’d abandoned the couch to move around the living room, but his jeans had remained uncomfortably tight. Despite her saying she was “kind of” dressed, which must have meant the bathrobe, he’d heard the splashing at least one more time, when he’d told her about the brunette passing him the substitute phone number. He’d visualized her sitting on the tub edge, the bathrobe parting over her thighs as the hem draped the floor, and plunging her feet back into the water in preparation for shaving her legs. Was that how women did it? He’d never considered the matter before, just took it for granted the fairer sex managed the task somehow. Then visions of a pink razor slicking downy hair off her trim calves had him thinking about her freckles, where they were and how many there might be.

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Did they scatter over her thighs, her arms, her breasts? And the curls between her legs—were they the same pale, reddish-gold as her hair? Or maybe another shade lighter. He bit back a groan. “Tess S., I know you’re there. I can hear you breathing.” “You’re right,” she murmured in a dreamy tone. “I’m just…mmm…a little busy.” If she kept up this kind of talk, she’d have him busy, too. Too busy to think, let alone speak. “Doing what?” His voice emerged with the rough, raw edge threading his body. “Um, trying to decide if I should tell you what I’m doing.” Zach squeezed shut his eyes. Visions of her untying the bathrobe and fingering herself swamped his mind. If the woman turned him on any more, he could power the whole damn city. “Why shouldn’t you tell me?” he asked quietly. “It’s personal.” “How personal?” He turned toward his bedroom. On the couch, Lump had awoken, and he’d be damned if he’d continue this stimulating conversation in front of the cat. Her voice caressed his ear. “Very.” Christ. “Did Ethan put you up to this?” The situation felt too surreal not to question. The women he usually dated were upfront about their sexual needs, but Tess was in-his-face and sweetly retiring. The contrasts drove him mad. “Umm, no.” Then, on a sigh, she breathed, “Who’s Ethan?” Zach swore she give a tiny moan. A noise akin to rippling water traveled over the line.

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“It doesn’t matter.” Now wasn’t the time to press the issue. She was making him crazy—in a good way. But he couldn’t take much more. To hell with specifying a restaurant for next Saturday. To hell with getting her address. He closed the bedroom door. “Tess, I need to ask, are you still dressed?” “In a way.” He sank onto the bed. “Could you clarify?” “I guess it’s only fair I tell you.” “Yes,” he agreed. “It’s fair.” “I’m wearing a towel,” she half-whispered. “Only a towel?” So much for the image of the bathrobe. But the towel worked much better. He fell back onto the thick bedcovers, spreading his legs to give the boys some wiggle room. He popped the buttons of his jeans for comfort. So much better. “Actually, I was wearing a towel.” Better and still better. “Now you’re not?” “It got wet.” His cock stiffened. “How did that happen?” “Well, you see…” Voice softening, she paused. “I’m not sure I should tell you.” Tell me. “I…was in the tub when you called.” That’s my girl. “With a towel,” she added.

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Zach grinned. Evidently, she wasn’t the brightest bulb in the pack, but he could look past that. “Honey, let me get a clear picture here. You’re wearing a towel—you were wearing a towel—in the tub?” “Mm-hm. But I’m not anymore. Well, I’m still in the tub. I just got rid of the towel.” There is a God. Zach shifted the phone to his left hand. His right itched to get busy. Slowly, he slid his jeans down his hips. He wasn’t wearing briefs, and his rigid cock ached for release. Gritting his teeth, he restrained himself from quickly finding relief. He wanted her to know exactly what he was doing. What he pictured her doing. He wanted her there with him. “What were you doing with the towel, Tess?” “Covering myself.” “Was that all?” “Um, yes.” Don’t feel nervous with me, babe. “Are you sure?” As if unable to help herself, she whispered, “No.” Oh yeah. “Was the towel wet?” “Completely soaked.” “And the water hot?” “With bubbles.” “I bet that towel created a nice friction.” “It did.” Her husky tone grew bolder. “Do you feel safe with me, Tess?” “Yesss.”

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He imagined her nodding, her sun-kissed hair drifting over her bare shoulders. Her eyes fluttering shut then open again, her lush lips parting in passion. “Where’s the towel now?” he asked. More quiet splashing. “On the floor.” “And your hands?” “Ooh, Jack.” Guilt sluiced through him as she whispered the fake name. But not enough to put him off course. They were both too far gone. “Your fingers, babe. Are you touching yourself?” She moaned. “I’m touching you.” His cock throbbed. “And my fingers are…? It’s okay, sweetheart. Tell me.” “They’re inside me.” Her breathing quickened. “Is that what you want?” he whispered roughly. “I want you.” “Where?” he croaked. “Inside me. Please, Jack. Now.” His breath hissed out. In his mind’s eye, his cock probed her slick folds then slipped in. At first just the swollen head, then an inch, three, six. More. He withdrew, plunged in deeper. Again. Again. To the hilt. Aaaaaah. “I’m there,” he murmured, moaning. “Inside you. Deep. All the way.” “So deep,” she returned in sultry tones. “Oh, Jack, sssoooo full.” God, she felt so hot, so good. He continued telling her, whispering erotic words until her soft panting sounded rapidly, drilling his excitement higher. Higher. Sweet mercy, the woman was killing him. “I want to hang on, babe. I don’t know if I can.”

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“I can’t,” she whispered breathlessly. “Jack, I can’t hang on.” The splashing sounds grew louder. He pictured her head twisting from side to side, hips pumping, her fingers wet, hot, fast. “Jack! I’m going to—oooohhh!” At the exquisite sound of her climax, his orgasm slammed through his body, his heart climbing out of his chest, ears pounding. Her heat mixed with his heat, wet and warm against his palm. Again, the convulsions gripped him. He never wanted to come down. Wow. Breathing heavily, Tess dropped the wet phone onto the bathmat. Good thing battery-operated devices couldn’t electrocute a person. As it was, she’d probably ruined the cordless when it had slipped into the bubbles as she’d climaxed, but right now she didn’t care. She hadn’t experienced such a mindblowing orgasm in forever. She’d probably broken Jack’s eardrum with her passionate cries, but he hadn’t seemed to mind. Her face warmed as she remembered his desire-thickened voice murmuring wicked comments through the receiver while she’d retrieved the phone and repositioned it against her ear. They’d both drifted back to earth with a minimum of words before hanging up. No, Jack Halloran hadn’t seemed to mind her explosive response to him at all. Her rational side prickled, and she swept her hands over her damp face. Now that the moment had passed, though, what must he think of her? More importantly, what did she think of herself? She’d done some crazy things in her

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life, but they were few and far between. Yet, every time she so much as spoke to Jack Halloran, she acted wildly out of character. What was worse, she liked it. As the truth filled her, she sank back into the rapidly vanishing bubbles and turned on the hot water with her toes to reheat the tub. Shiny new bubbles frothed at the base of the gurgling faucet. The heat engulfed her legs and swam up her tummy. Her entire body reverberated with tiny aftershocks, almost as if she and Jack had actually made love. Lightheaded sensations rushed through her, and she smiled at her unprecedented daring. Who was she trying to kid? Indulging in the sexy phone call had felt great. Fantastic and utterly freeing. Jack’s deep, naughty voice had tempted her, unraveled her, drawn out her sensual, reckless side. Yet, she’d also felt incredibly safe sharing the fantasy with him. She never would have succumbed to her lust for the man otherwise. Her smile widened. Score one for my team. Chloe would be proud of her. Hell, forget Chloe. She was proud of herself! She was basking in one monster of an afterglow, and she loved it. The question was, where did she go from here?

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Chapter Four

“Mr. Greenburg is almost ready for you, Miss Sheridan.” Tess lifted her gaze from the Crockett’s Fine Foods documents on her desk. Sammi, the young legal secretary she shared with two other junior associates, entered her office. “The Halliday people are with him in the conference room,” the petite blonde continued. “He’d like you to join them as soon as you can.” “Thank you, Sammi.” Tess tucked the papers into her briefcase then stood and smoothed the skirt of her lavender suit, her favorite. She’d been at the office since six a.m. She was as prepared as she could be. “What about Phil Renfrew? Is he with them yet?” Sammi shook her head. “I’m telling you first, because you’re a nicer boss than he is.” “Why, thank you. Again. You’d better watch it, Sammi. You’re spoiling me.” “Nah.” The secretary moved to the window overlooking the city’s financial district and adjusted the blinds to reduce the glare of midmorning sun. “Even if I were, you deserve it. You always treat me and the other girls with respect, unlike some people around here I could mention, but won’t.” “Except you already mentioned him.” “You’re right.” Sammi blushed. “I shouldn’t put down Mr. Renfrew like that. I’m sorry.” “It’s okay.” Sometimes Sammi’s exuberance emerged at inopportune moments, but she was a good assistant. Besides, Tess could identify with the

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younger woman’s tendency to speak out of turn. After all, her own long-buried spontaneous streak had certainly sparked to life two days ago when she’d made herself happy in the tub with Jack Halloran. Her panties warmed, and she fiddled with the needless task of shutting down her computer. She had ruined the phone, she’d discovered afterward when her mother finally called, saying Tess’s voice sounded like she hearkened from Peru. A trip to the drugstore had resulted in a nifty replacement. Ludicrous though it seemed, Tess had stuffed the wrecked phone on an upper shelf of her hall closet as a testament to the sensual powers of her inner nympho. Now that lawyer mode consumed her again, though, Saturday’s events almost felt as if they’d never occurred. Did she really have the guts to take her flirtation with Jack to the next level? She’d never indulged in phone sex before— with a near-stranger, to boot. The possibility of Jack calling her for a repeat performance before their dinner date this weekend excited and intimidated her. “Miss Sheridan, are you going to tell Mr. Renfrew what I said?” “Sorry, Sammi. I was thinking about the meeting.” Tess fidgeted with the long sleeves of her summer-weight suit jacket. Sammi glanced at her watch. “You’re doing fine.” Tess inhaled deeply. She had to do more than fine. She needed to bedazzle the pants off Graham Halliday and his two sons. Lawrence Greenburg expected every lawyer at the firm to dispense professional and thorough legal advice, no matter their level of importance or involvement with a case. Tess’s rapidly growing fantasy life had no place at the office. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell Phil,” she assured Sammi. “Office politics are tricky, but there’s a line you shouldn’t cross. That said, if Phil is making

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unreasonable demands on your time, I want to know about it. Maybe I could talk to him for you.” “Thank you, but it hasn’t come to that yet. Mr. Renfrew is more of a…I don’t know if I should say this—” “A pain?” Sammi nodded. Tess knew what the secretary meant. Lately, Phil was acting ultra-smug. Having joined the firm before Tess, he remained her primary competition for a partnership. After his success with a couple of big cases, he considered himself a shoe-in. His bombastic manner didn’t sit well with the secretaries, and eventually his limitations would become apparent to the upper brass. When that happened, she’d be ready, her reputation for diligence and enthusiasm preceding her. She’d snatch a partnership out from under Phil Renfrew’s stubby little nose. She smiled at Sammi. “If you ever do have a problem with Phil or another associate, please come to me. As long as it’s a valid grievance, we’ll work through it.” “I will, Miss Sheridan. Thank you.” Sammi preceded her out of the office, and Tess headed for the conference room. The Halliday acquisition was her ticket to the big league. She couldn’t screw up. She rapped on the door before entering. Lawrence Greenburg, a burly man in his mid-fifties, adjusted the lapels of his navy blue suit and rose to greet her. “Teresa. Ever so prompt. I appreciate it.” “Thank you, Mr. Greenburg.” They shook hands. “Please, call me Lawrence. Given the circumstances, we can drop the Greenburg.”

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“Okay…Lawrence.” Pleasure filled her. At her level, progressing to a firstname basis with the firm’s founder was cause for celebration. Lawrence glanced behind her. “Is Philip with you?” “No, but he’ll be along shortly.” Her boss nodded. “Zachary is running late, as well. I’ll introduce you to the others while we wait.” With a touch to her elbow, Lawrence directed her toward the oak conference table. Virginia Winslow—a senior partner in her mid-forties with impeccable style and a pleasant manner—sat across from two men wearing similar gray suits. The oldest man had to be Graham Halliday. Tess recognized his intelligent blue eyes and salt-and-pepper hair from the photograph adorning the latest Halliday Enterprises annual report. Lawrence introduced the younger man as Ethan, Graham’s eldest son. With his light brown hair, lean features and several extra inches of height, Ethan Halliday didn’t look much like his father. Both men rose to shake her hand. “Ethan, it’s a pleasure meeting you,” Tess said. “Likewise.” Angling her a puzzled look, he sat down. Her neck prickled. Had she smeared her lipstick? Left croissant crumbs on her suit? But she couldn’t have. Sammi would have warned her. Nerves swarming, Tess pulled her files out of her briefcase and busied herself organizing papers while Lawrence, Graham and Virginia discussed a rezoning bylaw currently before city council. Then Phil arrived, and introductions began anew. Meanwhile, Ethan kept glancing surreptitiously at her. However, not like a man might check out a woman he found attractive. Instead, he subtly examined her, as if he were trying to place her. As if they’d met somewhere before.

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They hadn’t, though. While the annual report featured his name but not his picture, in person Ethan Halliday was too handsome to forget. In a way, he resembled Jack Halloran, except Jack had broader shoulders and darker brown eyes. Ethan’s mouth held a serious tilt, whereas Jack’s friendly grin lit his entire face. Graham uttered a remark, and Tess glanced over. Interesting, Graham’s wide smile reminded her of Jack’s. She gave her head a firm shake. Now she was comparing a sixty-year-old man to Jack Halloran? What was wrong with her? Her weekend adventures in the tub had imprinted the studmuffin on her brain. Stomach cramping, she reached for the crystal pitcher and poured herself a glass of ice water. Her first sip did nothing to curb her sudden anxiety. Should she excuse herself, pretend she’d left a vital piece of information in her office and needed to retrieve it? She’d use the time to pull herself together, to forget Jack Halloran existed, at least for now. Within the walls of Greenburg & Associates, she was Teresa Sheridan. Tess S.—her Jack-obsessed alter ego—had to take a hike. Formulating her excuse, she stood. The conference room door swished open behind her. “Sorry I’m late,” a deep male voice boomed. “What did I miss?” Heart racing, she turned. The hunk of burnin’ love she’d met in Danver’s smiled at her. Now she was hallucinating? She blinked. He was still there. “J-Jack?”

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Tess S. Miss Strawberry Surprise. Teresa Sheridan. Three handles, all the same woman. Would wonders never cease? Relaxing in his chair, Zach fought a smile. Tess—make that Teresa—sat across the table, her prim nose buried in the Crockett’s documents to which L.G. had referred. Her hair swept back from her temples to form a narrow, elegant ponytail that hung over her loose, red-blonde waves. Whenever she leaned forward, several strands drifted onto the front of her light purple business suit, and she’d push them back. “I think it looks pretty good, Lawrence,” she answered L.G. in the composed manner she’d adopted since Zach had breezed in on a high from scouting locations for the rock-climbing center he wanted to open. His own business. Damn, he loved the way that sounded. “Once we factor in Ethan’s suggestions for a management-style overhaul, the projections appear quite favorable.” Teresa glanced up and passed her poised gaze from Lawrence to Zach’s father to Ethan. To everyone but him. Zach had to hand it to her—she’d quickly recovered from her surprise when he’d entered the conference room. Initially, she’d fumbled by calling him Jack, but L.G. had been talking to his father and hadn’t noticed. “Of course, there remains the due diligence to consider,” she said. “One never knows what might turn up.” “What skeletons we might encounter, eh, Teresa?” L.G.’s hearty tone conveyed pride in his protégée. Zach’s mouth quirked. He’d known L.G. for years. He still remembered the overflowing bowl of gumballs displayed in the big guy’s office when Zach and Ethan were kids. When their mother died, L.G. and his wife provided muchneeded solace to their grief-stricken father. And to them. “The Halliday Boys”—

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their father’s catchphrase for the family once their mother was gone—had shared many Sunday dinners with the Greenburgs over the years. What would L.G. think of cool, collected Teresa Sheridan in her seductive guise as Tess S.? Not that Zach intended to betray her secrets to her boss. After all, he didn’t qualify for sainthood himself, and he remained foggy on the extent of those secrets. However, this latest turn of events fueled his determination to unearth every mysterious detail about her. Gaze riveted to her face, he crossed his arms over his golf shirt. Patches of color flared on her cheeks, and her fingers twitched on the papers. Zach’s grin emerged in full force. Ah, fate. He’d hoped to encounter Teresa Sheridan today. Teresa Sheridan, the hungry, young lawyer. On a friend’s advice, he’d planned to seek her advice about incorporating his business. However, never in his wildest dreams had he anticipated the workaholic his good buddy Rob had recommended was the same husky-voiced temptress who’d come undone with him over the phone. Or that she’d attend this meeting. “The marketing strategy needs to change substantially,” she continued. “The customer base is healthy, but Crockett’s is no longer reaching them.” She looked at his father. “There’s a lot of work to do here, Graham, but the benefits of the deal far outweigh the drawbacks.” Zach’s father nodded then glanced at him. “What do you think, son? Would targeting different demographics help?” “Huh?” Shit, he’d lost the thread of the conversation. No biggie. He’d rather watch Tess’s lips move than stress over what she was saying. Tess. Yeah. No way could he keep thinking of her as Teresa. His father sighed. “You could try paying attention, Zach. I asked you to join us today because I value your input. Hefner Crockett likes you. Perhaps, during

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one of your conversations, he’s revealed an item or two which might help us determine how best to proceed.” “You mean, did ol’ Hef disclose one of those skeletons L.G. mentioned while we were playing golf?” Disapproving lines formed on Tess’s forehead. The spit-and-polished Phil Renfrew, sitting to her left, appeared even less impressed. The guy reminded Zach of a chipmunk, smug at times, furtive at others. The furtive moments occurred when Tess was showing him up. Zach straightened in his chair. “Actually, Hef touched on a few things. No skeletons, though. Sorry to disappoint you.” For no particular reason, he directed this last to Renfrew. Call him tactless, but he liked watching the guy bristle. “From what I can tell, Hef has a difficult time with change. He runs his business the same way he plays golf. He balks at learning anything new, even if it could help him. Take the name of the chain, for instance. Crockett’s Fine Foods sounds like something from the 1950s. But has Hef dropped the ‘Fine Foods’ and tried to market as just ‘Crockett’s’? Nope.” Virginia Winslow nodded. “I used to shop at the Burnaby store, but the location has become inconvenient.” “Exactly. Big boxes move in, neighborhoods change, malls lose their anchors. Unless it’s Crockett’s. Hef is loyal to a fault. He’ll stay at a location even while it’s choking his business to death.” Zach looked at Tess, then Renfrew. “Keep that in mind when you examine the leases. How easily could Halliday break them? A grocery store chain should appeal to everyone. Families, professionals, senior citizens. This is food, people, not a buffet spread at some country club. Hef limits the company’s growth by catering to the silk-and-pearls set when he should focus on soccer moms.” His father nodded. “You’re in agreement with Ethan, then.”

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Zach glanced at his brother, who shrugged and smiled. “I guess,” Zach replied. “Then the supermarket chain interests you?” his father asked. “As much as any other facet of the corporation does.” Which was to say, not at all. Dad knew that, too. Or he should. They’d played variations on this game for years: What Will It Take To Reel Zach In? The answer: nada. He wasn’t reelable. Zach loved his father, but the man could be controlling. Fortunately, once Zach opened Climbing The Walls, he’d have concrete proof of his ability to succeed on his own, and his days of going through the motions for Halliday Enterprises would be over. His father would have no choice but to accept what Zach had tried to get him to understand for years. Again, his father nodded. “We’ll proceed,” he said to L.G. “Excellent. We’ll draft the letter of intent while your accountants finish the financials.” The conversation faded to small talk, and the meeting disbanded. As Tess pushed back her chair, her lips pursed like a librarian scolding a disruptive child. She zapped Zach a critical glance, and he grinned. Bring it on, babe. Rather than turning him off, the sight of her disapproving mouth and censorious gaze inspired fantasies of hauling her to a deserted office and licking the prissy decorum from every inch of her body. She might have hoodwinked L.G. with her stuffy, dedicated-lawyer shtick, but she couldn’t fool Zach. The woman who’d hit on him in Danver’s and participated in risqué phone calls lurked somewhere deep within uptight Teresa Sheridan. And he intended to find her.

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“Tess!” Heart pounding, Tess ignored the man swiftly advancing behind her and continued her escape down the hall leading away from the conference room. Leave me alone, she willed him, humiliation driving her annoyance—at herself, at him, however illogical the latter reaction might be. She knew she and only she was responsible for her behavior, both in Danver’s and on the phone. However, had he needed to push home the point during the meeting, reminding her of her recklessness and further embarrassing her with every amused glance sent her way, every knowing smile, and…and that air of cocky confidence? “Tess!” Chin high, she increased her pace, skirt swishing her legs. She trained her gaze on the secretarial pool up ahead, which opened to the right of the junior associate offices. Her office. Her sanctuary. Not much farther. She could make it. “Damn it, Tess, slow down. I want to talk to you.” Too bad. Because she wasn’t stopping. His footsteps sounded on the thick carpet. He practically breathed down her neck. “Teresa.” Nice try. Didn’t the imbecile realize when he was getting the brush-off? Zach Halliday’s hand grazed her arm, the contact searing her skin through her suit jacket. Tension curled within her, mingled with an irritating warmth and an even more aggravating leap of sexual excitement.

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She tightened her grip on her briefcase, steeling herself against the attraction sweeping through her. Don’t turn. Don’t look at him. Don’t acknowledge him in any way. With everything inside her, she wished the earth would open up and swallow her whole. Whisk her off to that burning place she deserved, where she’d gladly toil for her sins. Except a sexy devil with a pitchfork no doubt resided there, a black Z emblazoned on his chest, raring to tempt her all over again. “Your buddy Renfrew isn’t far behind us. My father and L.G. will be along any second. Do you really want them to witness me chasing you down this hallway? Because I will, babe. I have nothing to lose. You, on the other hand, do. L.G. doesn’t tolerate rudeness.” “Then what’s your excuse?” Damn it, she’d acknowledged him. “I don’t work for the man.” She continued walking. He was right. She hated being bested by this disreputable playboy who’d encouraged her to compromise herself in the tub and referred to her boss as L.G. It sounded like he was calling Lawrence pond scum. But Zach Halliday had bested her—in a big way. While Tess didn’t like gossip, she had ears, and sometimes she couldn’t help overhearing the secretaries’ conversations. The scuttlebutt around the break room was that Graham Halliday’s freeloading youngest son could read a woman in less than two minutes and have her on her back in four. Well, Zach had already had an hour to read her—and that was just today during the meeting, never mind their encounter in Danver’s. He’d certainly had her on her back in the tub, begging for him to screw her. Mindful of his reference to Lawrence, she slowed down.

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“That’s better.” He fell into step beside her. In her peripheral vision, she caught him smirking. He wouldn’t act so pleased with himself after she tore a strip off him in private. “Not another word until we’re alone,” she whispered. “I can’t wait.” His low voice unleashed memories of drenched towels and hot, slick skin. Her pulse kicked into high gear. “I mean it, Jack.” “Bossiness has its appeal. Break out the whips, and I’m yours.” Break out the pitchfork, and I’ll stick you with it. “Quiet,” she whispered harshly. If he thought she’d still have dinner with him Saturday night, he had another think coming. No more studmuffins for her, Chloe’s badgering be damned. Her tiptoe on the wild side ended today. She’d embrace Plan A—her career came first. Her body would have to scrape by on fantasies. And a trip to a discreet love shop. She’d stock up on self-reliance. She pasted on a smile for the benefit of the secretaries. “Certainly, Mr. Halliday,” she said over-loudly. “I’m happy to go over the projections with you. My office is this way.” “You’re inventive.” She could feel him grinning. “We aim to please.” “I remember,” he said so softly his voice feathered up her spine. They reached her office. Nearby, Sammi rose from her desk. Behind Zach, Phil bore down on them. Graham and Lawrence followed, Virginia and Ethan in tow.

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Tess’s head swam. Even the proverbial walls felt like they were closing in on her. For the first time since meeting Zach in the conference room, she looked directly at him. “I’m sure you think this is all very funny, but please don’t make the situation any worse for me than it already is,” she whispered. “Ask to have copies of the projections sent to your office. You can study them there.” “You brought up the projections, Tess. Open the door. I only want to talk.” “I only want you to disappear,” she said, aware of how bitchy she sounded. “By any chance, are you trying to turn me off?” “That depends. Am I succeeding?” “No.” She would soon enough! “I have this Mary Poppins fantasy,” he murmured as she opened the door. “You have her tone of voice down pat. And the things we could do with an umbrella.” “Stuff it.” “Actually, that’s not what I had in mind.” If he continued with his depraved fantasy, he wouldn’t have a choice, because she did have an umbrella in her office. “Miss Sheridan?” Sammi asked behind them. Stiffening, Tess turned. “Yes?” How much had the secretary heard? Tess never allowed her emotions to get the better of her at work. However, when it came to dealing with Zach Halliday, it appeared all bets were off. Literally. Because there was no way, no how, no smidgen of a chance she could pursue Chloe’s dare now. “Is there anything I can get you or Mr. Halliday? Coffee, tea, mineral water?”

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Sammi’s gaze fixed on Zach’s face, and Tess released a breath. The secretary hadn’t overheard anything. She was awestruck. “Thank you, Sammi, but refreshments aren’t nec—” “I’d love something,” Zach cut in. Naturally. Anything to keep her off-balance. “Coffee,” he continued. “Black, no sugar.” “Yes, of course, we both would like coffee. Thank you, Sammi.” Tess’s face felt carved from granite. No sooner had the secretary left than Phil Renfrew caught up with them. “What’s going on?” Zach tagged him a cursory glance. “Teresa’s reviewing the projections with me.” The rest of the group minus Virginia descended. The older woman had stopped three meters back to speak to a paralegal. “Did I hear you right, Zach?” Graham asked. “You’re looking at the projections?” “Yes, I have some questions.” “That’s wonderful.” Graham clapped his son on the back. However, Ethan cast his brother a doubtful glance. “I can help,” Phil offered. Lawrence shook his head. “Teresa can handle Zachary’s concerns. I have another case I’d like to pass by you.” “Yes, sir.” Phil shot Tess a gleeful grin before departing with the others. She rolled her eyes. Normally, Phil’s antics irked her. But right now her mind was elsewhere—namely on Zach Halliday and Danver’s Pub and bathtubs—and she needed to get it back.

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She followed Zach into her office and set her briefcase on the carpet. Sammi arrived with the coffee mugs and placed them on the desk. Zach pushed his hands into the pockets of his tan Dockers. “Hold my calls,” Tess instructed her moon-eyed secretary. Sammi left, closing the door. Zach rocked back on his heels. “Alone at last.” His deep voice whipped a fresh surge of arousal through her. Another time, another place— “What do you want?” He laughed. “Don’t get all high and mighty with me, Tess S. You’re the last person I expected to see when I entered that conference room, believe me.” If Zach Halliday thought logic could appease her, he was mistaken. “You lied to me.” “I lied?” “About your name. Jack Halloran? What is that, your bar-hopping alias?” He couldn’t even affect the grace to appear insulted. “Um, yeah, believe every word you’ve ever heard about me, Teresa. I’m a lazy, skirt-chasing sex machine. Compelling women to hit on me in bars and talk dirty on the phone is my pastime.” At least he possessed a decent vocabulary. She strode to the front of her desk. “I didn’t know who you were then. If I had, considering our business meeting today, do you honestly believe I would have done that?” “Which part? The bar or the phone call?” “Both!” She shot a glance to the closed office door. He strolled toward her. “I don’t know, Tess, because I don’t know you. I’d like to, though. We still on for Saturday night?” “Be serious.” She backed against the desk.

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“I am.” “So am I. We can’t. I can’t. You’re a client.” “Naw. Technically speaking, my father’s the client. For now. I only came to the meeting because he asked me to. You might say he compelled me to. Runs in the family.” He grinned. Sure, laugh it up. Damn him and his sexy, charismatic smile. Zach Halliday wasn’t the one who’d made a colossal error in judgment. Fake name aside, he hadn’t tried to pass himself off as an entirely different person. No, the man standing mere millimeters away, looking tickled and selfassured and far too yummy, was essentially the same hunk of burnin’ love she’d approached in Danver’s. “It doesn’t matter.” She needed him to understand. “I don’t go up to strange men in bars. I don’t have phone sex.” His brown eyes gleamed. “You could have fooled me.” That was precisely what she had done—fooled him and herself. She wasn’t cut out for wild affairs. The fantasy appealed to her need for spontaneity, but the reality bit the big one. The artifice required to survive today’s meeting alone had wound her so tightly she felt ready to snap. “I’m sorry if I led you on,” she mumbled. “Don’t be.” “I know my limitations. I can’t pretend to be someone I’m not.” Although, at this moment, if she could change that most exasperating detail about herself, she would. Zach’s intense gaze kept her nipples at attention, and his sensual voice moistened her sheer panties. She’d come like a banshee over the phone with the guy. Imagine the erotic delights in store if she actually slept with him.

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His gaze focused on her mouth. “I have another fantasy, you know, about having sex on a desktop. Hot, messy and raunchy. Strange, now that I think about it, I realize I’ve never tried it.” Her breathing quickened. What was the accursed man saying? That he wanted to try it now? “We’re in an interesting position here, Tess,” he said as mildly as if he hadn’t unleashed yet another tangle of arousing images in her mind. “L.G. is your boss, and, given your behavior during the meeting, I take it you want to impress him. I could help you out there.” His gaze lowered to her suit jacket. Slowly, he raised a hand and brushed the linen…dangerously close to one breast. Her pulse jumped. “But first let’s talk about what you can do for me,” he murmured.

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Chapter Five

Her blue eyes widened. “Do for you?” Her hand swept out and knocked over a ceramic holder on her desk. Pens and pencils scattered on the organized surface, some rolling onto the carpet. “You’re blackmailing me?” Zach laughed. “Blackmail wasn’t my intention, Tess, but thanks for the great idea. Yeah, you do what I want, or I tell L.G. about our phone call.” He shook his head. “Don’t think so, babe. I like the man, but my sex life is none of his concern.” “Then what is this spiel about what I can do for you, after those hot looks during the meeting? And why touch my chest? And don’t call me babe.” Her hand jerked, bumping a mug this time. Black coffee arced onto an appointment book. She grabbed a tissue box. “Now look what you made me do!” Zach collected pens and pencils while she sopped up the coffee with fistfuls of tissues. “I didn’t touch your chest, I touched your shoulder. For good reason. You’re shedding, babe.” “What?” Leaving the soggy tissues, she whipped behind the desk. An object crunched beneath her sexy high heels. Her gaze flew downward. “My favorite pen!” She flung back the swivel chair. It careened toward the wall. Zach grabbed the piece of furniture. When he turned, Miss Strawberry’s delectable ass protruded out from under her desk. Her hips wiggled as her skirt rode up her thighs, revealing lightly freckled skin—and a flash of see-through panties.

A Little Wild

Suddenly packing wood, Zach dropped to his knees. “Need help?” “The cap came off!” She didn’t glance back. “It’s my eighteen-karat-gold fountain pen! My sisters gave it to me when I got this job. It cost four hundred dollars!” “For a pen?” “If I ruined it, I’ll kill you!” “Me?” He wedged under the desk, onto his side. Behind her, he swept a hand beneath her skirt and onto her thigh for support—and, all right, to satisfy his insatiable, horn-dog curiosity. “Oh.” Still looking ahead, she froze. Her hot skin burned his palm. He waited a full two seconds…but she didn’t object. He slid his hand between her legs and glided his fingers over her damp panties. “You’re wet.” He groaned. Sweet heaven. Ah, fuck me now. She was amazing. “What did you expect?” Her long hair pooled on the carpet, and her breath caught. “After our phone call…after you surprised me…” “By coming to the meeting?” He cupped her mound, and the warmth of her arousal seeped into his hand. Yes. With the base of his thumb, he massaged the silky fabric stretched over her hot entrance. Her eyes shut. As she nodded, her teeth sank into her lower lip. Her ass lifted, and he rubbed her plump clit through the slippery panties. “Is this good for you?” he whispered. Her eyes remained closed. “You know damn well it is.” She moaned, and he massaged faster. His shoulder ground into the carpet and his cock stiffened in his pants to the point of explosion, but he didn’t give a shit. If she came for him now, all hot and messy-haired under her desk when

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anyone could waltz in and catch them, he’d know he’d suffered a massive heart attack and soared straight to heaven. “Tess.” He rubbed, and she gasped. “Shh. Don’t say anything. Just…keep doing that.” “My pleasure.” He quickened his rhythm on her hardening clit, and her beautiful features tightened, eyelids clamped, cheeks rosy, fingers gripping the pen cap on the carpet. She panted, closer and closer. The desk phone rang. Her eyes popped open. She swore. “You have to get off me, Zach!” “I’m not on you.” “This isn’t a time for semantics!” She scrambled out from under the desk, her hand grazing the erection tenting his pants. Standing up, she grabbed the phone. “Sammi, I thought I said to hold my calls.” In her rush to escape, she’d dropped the pen cap. Zach located it and the fountain pen body. Easing out of their hideaway, he returned to stand in front of her desk. Voice contrite, she murmured into the phone, “In that case, put him through. I’m sorry for snapping at you, Sammi.” Avoiding his gaze, Tess smoothed her hair. Zach examined the fountain pen. A second later, she spoke into the phone again. “Yes, Mr. Greenburg. Um, Lawrence. Yes, sir, I’ll tell him. You can count on me, sir. Thank you.” Hands shaking, she hung up. Zach reassembled the fountain pen and placed it the ceramic holder. “The pen’s okay.” She gazed at him. “You must think I’m a slut.” “I think you’re incredible.”

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“I’m not. I’m not usually like this at all. I—” She rubbed her neck. “You said I was shedding.” He retrieved a red-gold curl from the desk. “Your hair. Here’s another one.” She glanced at the curl then at him. “Oh.” “Yes. Oh.” He dropped the strand into the wicker wastebasket by her desk. “But you did call me babe.” She grabbed more tissues. “Once in the hall and twice in here. I don’t like it. It’s not professional. Please stop.” She wiped the remaining coffee with abrupt movements and chucked the soaked tissue in the trash. Zach grinned. Forget opening Climbing The Walls. If he could liquefy and bottle Tess Sheridan’s overabundance of nerves, he could market it as an energy drink and earn a mint. “What can I say? We have a history.” “Not anymore, we don’t.” She yanked her chair to the desk and sat, her hands clasped and her spine schoolteacher-straight. The passionate irritation dissolved from her features, receding to a civil façade. Every inch Teresa Sheridan. Not one trace of Tess S. “That was Lawrence on the phone,” she muttered. “He said if I can’t address your needs, you’re to go to him.” Zach chuckled, and pink hued her face. “I’ll be honest with you, so I’d appreciate it if you took me seriously, J-Zach. You have me over a barrel, and I think you know it.” “Over a barrel? The idea has possibilities. Although one of those big exercise balls would work better.” Her mouth firmed. “Yes, over a barrel And I’m not talking sexually, so please drag your mind out of the gutter.”

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If she held a ruler, he’d no doubt she’d rap his knuckles. “I’ll try.” Although it was damn difficult with that sexy schoolmarm thing she had going. “Good.” The civil mask reassembled over her features. “My job is very important to me, Zach. It’s who I am. Who I want to be. Did you tell your brother about us?” “The bar?” “The phone call.” He shook his head. “I thought maybe you knew him.” “I don’t—didn’t.” Her hand shot up. “If you say anything to Lawrence about our prior association—” Zach laughed. After their foray under the desk, her uppity manner should annoy him, but instead it placed him in danger of growing hard again. He hadn’t realized he was into dominance—he’d only mentioned whips in the hall to rile her—but right now envisioning Teresa Sheridan swapping her tidy two-piece suit and classy hairstyle for shiny black vinyl and thigh-high stiletto boots appealed immensely. Arms crossed, he propped one hip on her desk and leaned toward her. The subtle, violet-like scent of her perfume reminded him of the bell-shaped white flowers his mother used to grow. Summer snowflakes, she’d called them. During her illness, he’d picked masses of them for her, so he’d never forgotten. Summer snowflakes. Both hot and cold. Like Tess. “I already said I won’t tell L.G.,” he murmured. Her eyebrows dipped, but she didn’t back away. “Then what is it you think I can do for you? And why should I?”

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Zach suspected her bluntness stemmed from residual discomfort. He shouldn’t egg her on, but he couldn’t resist. “Tess, you wound me. Doesn’t our ‘prior association’ mean anything to you?” She paused. “It can’t.” “Okay. I’ll accept that.” “Will you?” “I just said I would.” “I know, but do you truly accept it?” “Yes.” Temporarily, anyway. Relief flooded her face. “Thank you.” Her clasped hands loosened, drawing his attention to her long, glossy fingernails. A delicate ring a shade richer than her light purple suit adorned her right hand. Time to address business. “What I was talking about is scratching your back and having you scratch mine. You want to make an impact on L.G.? I can help you. I have a lot of contacts, Tess. I’m not talking my father’s contacts, either. L.G. already has those sewn tight. But I do have several acquaintances on their way up. People with money and the urge to do something with it.” Her head tipped, her wavy hair playing on her shoulders. “You mean potential clients?” She peered at him as if he were Attila the Hun extending an olive branch. “For me?” “Of course for you. Do you see another lawyer in here? Although I could call in Renfrew.” He pushed off the desk. “No! Not Phil.” Zach sat on the desk again. “Didn’t think so.” She retrieved her fountain pen and uncapped it. “I don’t get it. Why give me referrals? What do I have to do?” “That’s simple, Tess. I need a lawyer. And I want to hire you.”

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“You need a lawyer? Not your father?” “You got it.” “This has nothing to do with Halliday Enterprises?” “There you go showing your IQ again. Not a thing.” She shook her head. “But there are hundreds of lawyers in Vancouver. Why me?” “Why not you?” Tossing the pen onto the desk, she rose and paced to the office window. Her back to him, she twirled the wand to open the blinds. She gazed out at the sunwashed cityscape for several moments. Then she faced him. “I don’t know, Zach. There has to be a reason. After how we met and…our phone call Saturday, and then everything that’s happened since the meeting, why would you want to hire me? I’m only a junior associate,” she rushed on without allowing him a chance to reply. “The truth is, I’d love to fatten my client list, but through you? Even if you wanted to stay with the firm, Lawrence or Virginia would be happy to take you on. Unless there’s a conflict of interest. Or are you pulling my leg? You probably don’t need counsel at all. You already have a cushy thing going with your father.” Zach supposed he should feel insulted, but she had a point. To a casual observer, it would look like he had it made. Maybe he’d even agree with that assessment if working at Halliday Enterprises didn’t bore him to death. Like his father, he needed to be his own boss. “It’s a good thing you’re not a trial lawyer, Tess. You have a million questions, and they’re excellent ones, but you’d never let the witness answer.” “Sorry. This isn’t like me. I can’t seem to stop being rude to you.” “I bring out the worst in you, huh? Wait, don’t answer that. Let’s do this right. You agree to hear me out, and then, if you still have a hankering to fry my

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butt in butter, I’ll leave and never bother you again. I don’t make a habit of dropping into Danver’s, so it’s not likely we’ll meet again there. The only way I can see us bumping into each other is if my father guilts me into attending another Crockett’s meeting, which I don’t want to do, I assure you. I’ll rip up your phone number—” “The real one?” “The one your friend gave me. The fake one, too, although I’d rather not. The coaster’s a cute memento. But I’ll sacrifice it if I have to.” For the first time since he’d encountered her in the conference room, the corners of her mouth curved up. “I don’t care about the fake number, Zach.” “Great. Then I’ll keep it.” She slid him a suspicious glance. “What’s to stop you from finding my real number again in the phone book?” “Nothing. I can gaze at your real number in absolute wonderment before I go to bed each night, but I promise you I won’t use it. I won’t hassle you, annoy you…tempt you. I won’t call you at all unless you become my lawyer and I need after-hours advice. We’ll discuss my requirements in further detail if you take me on. For now, just think of me as a potential client. How does that sound?” Her eyebrows rose. “Do I have a choice?” “Yeah. I could talk to Renfrew.” Her nose scrunched. “Then go ahead.” “Talk to Renfrew?” “No. Proceed. With me.” “Primo.” Hell would freeze over before Zach discussed his plans with Philip Renfrew. The guy reminded him too much of the couple of opportunistic lawyers he’d already had the misfortune of consulting. However, Tess didn’t need to

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know that. Besides, he liked the way her aristocratic nose twitched whenever he tossed out Renfrew’s name. Before she changed her mind about hearing his proposal, he moved off the desk and grabbed a guest chair resting against the opposite wall. He positioned the chair in front of her desk and sat, gesturing for her to take her seat again. Leaving the unspilled coffee mug for her, he reached for the half-full mug and sipped. “You’re correct in saying I have a good thing going with my father’s company, but it’s not for me. I’m telling you this in confidence, should we reach an agreement.” Interest crested her lightly freckled features. She nodded. “When I say in confidence, Tess, I mean between you and me. Not your secretary, perky though she is. Not Virginia or your buddy, Renfrew. And definitely not L.G.” “I understand.” “Good.” He had little choice but to trust her. He wanted someone young and ambitious who wouldn’t try cashing in on his Halliday Enterprises connections. His friend Rob Tanaka wouldn’t have recommended her if she weren’t hardworking and reliable. The Halliday connection didn’t factor with her, because she already worked for L.G. and L.G. already worked for his father. He sipped his hot coffee. Apparently, Tess wasn’t thirsty, for she let her mug sit. “Here’s the thing,” Zach said. “I’m leaving Halliday Enterprises, but my father doesn’t know it yet.” “He doesn’t? Why? And why on earth would you want to leave?” A true corporate cookie. He’d loosen her up. Or have the time of his life trying. But business first.

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“Because, to answer your last question, Tess, like I said, it’s not for me. If you want to be my lawyer, you need to learn to listen. Don’t let the packaging fool you.” He tapped his skull. “There’s more here than meets the eye. I’m not just another ruggedly handsome face.” “Not conceited, either.” “You can’t help yourself, can you? But that’s okay. You know what they say about banter—it’s a substitute for sex. We have to make up for the lack of more phone calls somehow.” Face reddening, she glanced away. “You want to start a business separate from Halliday Enterprises?” “Unlike anything Halliday’s ever done. So, to answer another of your many questions, there’s no conflict of interest. Not the way I see it. Although my father would probably consider any business I wanted to open a conflict.” Not because his father was an ass, but because he so badly wanted Zach to work with him and Ethan. “That’s one of the reasons client confidentiality is important to me.” She picked up her pen. “And you’re not informing Graham of your plans?” “Right. He can’t find out. Not until I’m ready.” “When will that be?” “Once the business is running, not a moment before. Same with Ethan. He works too closely with Dad. Telling him would put him in an awkward position.” “If there’s no conflict, there’s no problem. What type of business are we talking about?” “A climbing center. Fifteen-thousand square feet of simulated rock-climbing surfaces. Nearly fourteen-hundred square meters.” Like most Canadians, depending on the situation, Zach swapped between metric and the old Imperial

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system his parents had grown up with. When it came to housing and office space, Imperial measurements ruled. “You mean one of those places where people who rock climb outdoors go when it’s raining or after work?” Tess asked. “In a nutshell.” He itched to tack on “babe”, but didn’t. She scribbled a few sentences on a notepad. “I agree that a climbing center doesn’t sound like something your father generally invests in. Although he might if you asked him, Zach.” “Except I don’t want to ask him.” “I can see that.” She wrote on the pad again. “What about financing?” “Already taken care of. I still need to work out specifics for the first months of operation, but I’m coasting easy for the start-up.” Thanks to squeaking out of several volatile markets before they crashed. “All right,” she said, surprising him with her quick acceptance of the financing issue. Usually, curiosity about how he earned his money inspired a slough of questions. But Teresa Sheridan, LLB, merely returned her attention to her notes. “Fifteen thousand square feet?” she read, then glanced up. “That’s huge.” “Not really. Granted, it’s larger than some climbing gyms, but I want to offer enough rock surfaces to suit everyone, not just advanced climbers.” “You’ll construct walls for beginners, too?” “Yes. For all ranges of experience.” Excitement infused him, as it did whenever he spoke of his vision, which wasn’t often. The fewer people acquainted with his plans for now, the better. He placed his coffee mug on the desk. “The idea is to provide annual memberships and hourly rates, climbing courses with certified instructors, guided outdoor excursions, and summer programs for kids.”

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Her eyebrows lifted. “That’s ambitious. What about equipment? Don’t you need special shoes? Does it work like a bowling alley? You bring your own shoes or rent them?” “Please, no comparisons to bowling alleys, although in essence you’re right. I’ll offer both options. However, eventually, I’d also like to open an adjoining retail space stocking the latest in high-quality outdoor climbing gear. With all that square footage, there’s room for a juice bar and childcare area. If I’m going to do this, I want to do it right, Tess. No halfway measures. I’m committed.” He waited a beat. “Or perhaps I should be.” She smiled. “Do you have a location in mind?” “Yes, although it’s not leased yet. I checked out a space this morning that looks perfect. That’s why I was late to the meeting.” Her fountain pen scratched along the notepad, her ease apparent now that they were immersed in legal details. “Your customers would need to sign waivers of liability.” “That’s another reason I need a good lawyer. I’ve put a lot of thought into this. Rock climbing is one of my passions. Considering how many new ventures fail, a rule of thumb for starting a business is to choose something you feel passionate about, right?” “To develop a hobby into a business, yes. It’s not the only way, but it’s doable.” “Okay. Well, I don’t feel passionate about grocery stores, I can tell you that much. I don’t feel passionate about dry cleaners or car dealerships or strip malls. Don’t get me wrong. Halliday Enterprises has been good to me. As a teenager, I never had to look for a summer job. My father expected me to work for the company in whatever manner he deemed appropriate at the time, and I did. Thanks to Halliday, I earned enough to finance my university degree and travel.

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But I’ve never felt satisfied working for my father, and that’s what needs to change.” And it would change, regardless of his father’s eventual reaction. Zach might have slack-assed his way through his twenties, but his thirties would be different. It was time to stand up for what he believed in, live his life rather than continually trying to placate his father. Tess’s eyes widened. “You’re serious about this.” “Damn straight.” Her head was probably spinning from information overload. He had to pace himself before he turned her off the idea of working for him and his hollow threats to seek out Renfrew lost their charm. As if on cue, his stomach grumbled. He glanced at his watch. “I’m starving. What say we continue this over lunch?”

“I think the meeting went well, don’t you?” Ethan’s father asked, sinking into an armchair in Lawrence Greenburg’s office and snipping the end off the fat cigar Lawrence had offered. Ethan had declined his own cigar, happy to cite an early afternoon appointment in the trendy downtown neighborhood of Yaletown as an excuse. Whole Latte Lovin’ sat a block from the marketing specialist he was meeting. Hopefully, he’d have time to pop in for a macchiato. Lawrence parked his massive frame in the second armchair. A sofa and two marble-topped coffee tables complemented the dark furniture in the executive office suite, but restlessness stirred within Ethan. He preferred to stand. “I don’t know, Dad.” He toyed with the money clip in his trouser pocket. “Zach might get ticked when he finds out what you have planned.” A gross understatement. His brother would be pissed off to the extreme when he learned their father’s intentions.

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“You won’t tell him.” “It’s not my place.” Dad had requested secrecy for the next few weeks, and Ethan didn’t want to cross his father when they were both working like dogs lately. Besides, once Graham Halliday reached a decision, a steamroller couldn’t deter him. Hell, maybe Dad’s announcement would finally persuade Zach to get off his ass and behave like a responsible adult. “Good,” Dad said. “Don’t worry. Zach participated in the meeting, asked pertinent questions, provided excellent insight. He’s studying the projections with Teresa now. Since when has your brother expressed an interest in projections?” “Never.” Which should tell their father something. Like maybe Zach had a personal interest in the woman. “You see? Give the boy a chance. He might surprise us.” Dad accepted a light from Lawrence then drew on the cigar before resting his hand on his knee, where the cigar would remain. Since Ethan and Zach’s mom had died of ovarian cancer sixteen years ago, the cigar shtick was for show—an old habit symbolizing respect between two long-standing business associates and friends. Lawrence cleared his throat. “I must say, Graham, I agree with Ethan. Let me call Teresa’s office again, invite Zachary up here. We’ll explain what you have in mind.” Ethan’s father shook his head. “No. If we do that, my son won’t give the project a chance. Zach doesn’t know what’s good for him. If he did, he would have taken action by now.” “It’s our responsibility to show him what’s good for him?” Ethan asked. “I’m his father, aren’t I? And you’re his big brother.” Cigar smoke curled from his father’s knee. The rich scent filled the office. “I realize you don’t

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approve of how I’m handling this, Ethan, but Zach needs a swift kick in the behind. He can’t laze about forever.” Waving a hand, Dad glanced at Lawrence. “Let’s discuss something else. I’ve been thinking about the Christmas fundraiser for Floretta House. How does a black-and-white dinner at five hundred a plate sound? We’ll target the elite, scrounge deep in their pockets for a worthy cause.” Lawrence nodded. “I like my chicken at five hundred a plate.” “At five hundred, we’d better serve lobster.” Dad laughed. Ethan nodded. “I’ll contact the event planner from last year.” The charity established in their mother’s name was a favorite of his and Zach’s. Despite Ethan’s multiple commitments, he wouldn’t forfeit his involvement. “I’ll dig up some numbers and present them to the Floretta House board.” His father lifted a hand. “Let Zach contact the event planner, son. The busy work will distract him from the Crockett’s deal.” “Until you spring it on him?” “If that’s how you want to look at it. However, you may present Zach’s findings to the board. We’ll proceed from there.”

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Chapter Six

Zach Halliday was a persuasive guy, Tess decided as she bit into the second half of her turkey sandwich. This morning, as she’d squirmed her way through the Crockett’s meeting, then later, when her inner nympho had commandeered control of her body beneath her desk, she never would have predicted that she and Graham Halliday’s allegedly shiftless youngest son would share a meal on a backless bench in a downtown square with a view of Burrard Inlet. Yet here they were. The ocean breeze ruffled his dark brown hair as he enjoyed his own roast beef concoction. Behind him, the double-peaked white sails of Canada Place swooped in graceful arcs like open hands cradling the Pacific sky, and the SeaBus commuter ferry skated steadily toward the mountainous North Shore. Tess brushed a breeze-strewn hair off her face and wondered how Zach Halliday had broken through her defenses so easily. Logically, she realized he’d recognized her hot buttons—number one her need to prove herself to Mr. Greenburg. Then, following Sammi’s timely phone call, he’d picked up on her desperation to shove their relationship back into the business arena. However, his uncanny ability to detect her rivalry with Phil Renfrew without her uttering one word about the pea-brain amazed her. And for someone who professed disinterest in the Crockett’s acquisition, Zach’s comments during the meeting had been remarkably perceptive. No wonder Graham had wanted him present. Like Zach had said in her office, there was more to him than met the eye.

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What met the eye was none too shabby, either. She sidled her gaze over his handsome features then lower, to the ivory polo shirt accentuating his broad chest and muscular biceps. Dark hair swept his tanned forearms, and his large hands with their sturdy fingers and square-tipped nails looked…talented. Images of those big hands caressing her panties flooded her mind, and her clit buzzed. She squeezed her thighs together to decrease the tension, but the pressure aroused her further. Damn it, she should have insisted that they eat in a crowded restaurant instead of agreeing to enjoy the beautiful day outside. After the scene under her desk, she’d thought the public setting would feel less intimate than sharing a table for two indoors, but it didn’t. If anything, the sounds and movements of the passing shoppers, tourists and business people cocooned their bench in a fantasy-inspiring bubble. She needed to work on stifling her physical response to the man if she hoped to take him on as a client. Given the circumstances of their meeting, would becoming his lawyer be wise? To look at him, he had everything. A father and brother who cared for him, and the chance to rocket to the top at the most successful corporation in the city. Yet Zach claimed he didn’t want any part of the opportunities available to him at Halliday Enterprises. That alone fascinated her. Even with the due diligence for the Crockett’s acquisition swamping her for the next several weeks, how could she turn down this chance to expand her client list? Just one new client of the caliber Zach had mentioned would impress the senior partners. Luring more could secure her a junior partnership eons ahead of that weasel, Phil.

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She chewed her sandwich. Juicy tomato slices layered the crunchy bean sprouts and slices of roast turkey breast. The sandwich was so filling, she wouldn’t need dinner. “Good?” Zach asked as his knee knocked hers. Swallowing, she nodded. “How’s yours?” “Fantastic. I love the food from Sandie’s Deli. I drop in every chance I get.” “Same here.” Tess sipped her strawberry smoothie. Relax. “I eat at Sandie’s twice a week, usually when I’m working late. I’m surprised I haven’t run into you there.” “I don’t work late.” She studied him. “That will have to change, you know.” She set her smoothie cup on the bench. “If you want the climbing center to succeed, you’ll need to work day and night to get it off the ground. Most new business owners log horrendous hours. I’m talking sixty- or seventy-hour workweeks, Zach.” “Kind of like a backroom lawyer.” Touché. However, with his money and connections, he had several options. “I’m serious. Unless you plan on hiring a manager right away, running this business will consume your time and energy. Don’t kid yourself that it won’t.” “I’m not. I know it’ll be rough, Tess, and I’m fully prepared to follow through. I don’t want to hire a manager until I have to. Even then, I’d like to remain in charge of the gym and juice bar, just find someone to run the equipment store. I’m not about to leave my father’s company to fade into the background with my own business. I want to be there every day, interacting with my customers. Climbing The Walls is my baby. If anyone needs to feed her and change her dirty diapers, it’s gonna be me.” Tess smiled at the odd but accurate analogy. Zach Halliday was one creative guy—both on the phone and off it. “Climbing The Walls. Great name.”

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“I figure it’ll accurately reflect my state of mind by the time I open.” “What’s your time frame?” “Three or four months from now—the middle of November or December. Rock-climbing addicts will be screaming for a dry indoor haven. It’s perfect.” “You can capitalize on Christmas by advertising annual memberships as gifts.” “Good idea.” He finished his sandwich and stuffed the wrapping in the takeout bag. “Does this input mean you’ve decided to represent me?” Tess tried to stop grinning at him like an idiot, but his enthusiasm for his plans was contagious. Yeah, that’s it. “I don’t know,” she responded in a light tone matching his. “You still haven’t answered one of my many questions.” He closed an eye against the bright noon sunshine. “Which one is that?” “About why you came to me. Like you said, Zach, I’m stuck in the back rooms a lot. Until today, I hadn’t even met your father. How did you hear about me?” His coffee-brown gaze traveled over her face, warming her from the inside out. He rested a hand on his thigh, close to her hip. “Like a dog with a bone,” he murmured. “Like a detail-oriented lawyer.” “Well, detail-oriented lawyer, I did consult a couple of others before you, but they backfired.” “At Greenburg & Associates?” He shook his head. “At first I didn’t want to hire someone from L.G.’s firm, in case word leaked to my father before I was ready.” “That wouldn’t happen at Greenburg.”

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“There’s always a chance talk will happen. The trick is preventing it as long as you can.” “True.” Done eating, she wiped sandwich crumbs from her lips and hands with a napkin. Zach glanced at his watch. “Should we keep talking here or walk?” “Walk and talk. I need to get back.” He collected their garbage and deposited it in a trash can before they joined the flow of pedestrians. When they reached Cordova, they turned toward the Greenburg offices on Howe Street. As one of the city’s electric trolley buses chugged by, Zach resumed their conversation. “One of the drawbacks to having a lot of money is that nearly everyone you meet wants a piece. Until a friend recommended you, every lawyer I contacted was more interested in how my Halliday connections might benefit them rather than how they could help me.” Tess’s heart pinched. A passerby jostled her arm, and she repositioned her purse strap on her shoulder. “Is that why you offered me client referrals, because you thought I’d want something from you?” She hated to think she came across so shallow. “No. However, considering how upset you were to find out who I really am, I figured I should ply you with an extra something.” Well, he could consider her plied. Because the more she learned about Zach Halliday, the more she wanted to help him. And no, she chastised her horny inner nympho, who longingly wished she only knew him as Jack, my desire to help him has nothing to do with fantasizing about dragging him to bed. “How many lawyers did you consult?” she asked in an effort to banish the inner nympho.

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“Enough to realize I needed to hire someone I could trust. That meant seeking the advice of a friend.” “Who recommended me?” “Rob Tanaka. Of the restaurant and sushi bar by the same name on Thurlow.” “You know Rob?” Tess represented Rob as well as his parents, Yosh and Emiko. The senior Tanakas operated a souvenir shop in Gastown, Vancouver’s history-rich tourist district. Zach nodded. “We met my first year at UBC.” “Small world. I wandered into Rob’s parents’ store one day after work, oh, it must have been two years ago. I was looking for postcards, started talking to Yosh—” “And learned about their landlord hassles. Rob told me. They couldn’t afford to hire a lawyer, so you represented them free of charge. That was nice.” Ridiculously pleased with the compliment, she smiled again. “Most lawyers handle pro bono cases.” “Yeah, but not all of them are into helping small-business owners. The Tanakas’ case was a blip on the radar screen, but you took it on.” “I love representing small businesses.” She’d miss the work when she made partner and needed to quadruple her efforts on billable hours. “Helping Rob’s parents paid off when he opened his restaurant. He hired me as a result.” Rob had asked her out to dinner, too, but she’d said no. Besides being a client, he was too good looking. Then, as now, she hadn’t wanted to risk the distraction. She glanced at the man walking beside her. Rob wasn’t as hot as Zach, however. Date-worthy, but not beneath-the-desk or bathtub-worthy. Rob Tanaka sizzled, but Zach Halliday’s slightest touch—even the sound of his voice— scorched.

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He’d transformed her bathwater into a roiling Jacuzzi. “In my third and fourth years at UBC, Rob and I shared a basement suite with Blake Ashton, another friend of mine you might know,” Zach of the Scorching Touch said. “He’s a criminal lawyer.” “I’ve heard of Blake Ashton, but I don’t know him.” It made sense that Zach and the headline-grabbing Ashton ran in the same social circles. Both families were rich as sin. However, the Tanakas weren’t wealthy, and yet Zach counted Rob as a trusted friend. “I’ll introduce you to Blake sometime.” Zach’s pace slowed as they neared an intersection and the Walk sign blinked to Don’t Walk. Pedestrians milled around them while the busy noon-hour traffic crept by. “If I take you on as a client?” “Or you decide not to represent me, but you still want to see me. Of course, you could always see and work for me at the same time.” Tess shook her head. “I already said I don’t date clients. The Bar Association wouldn’t approve.” “Not even if our personal relationship pre-dates the professional one?” “You have an argument there, but I’m not prepared to test it.” Besides, if she didn’t agree to represent him, he’d be back at square one. She could send him to an old law-school friend, but he wanted her, and that felt good. “Am I a client?” he asked. “I haven’t decided.” “Decide fast, okay? Because I need to get the ball rolling. Although, either way, I’m happy, Tess. Either way I get to see you, unless you decide you don’t want me in your life at all.” His voice lowered. “But, hey, if you do want me in

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your life, either as a client or something much more cozy, then it’s just a matter of how much of you I get to see.” He flashed a wicked grin, and Tess swore her knees weakened. Her inner nympho wasn’t as restrained. The randy harlot liquefied into a puddle of lust at his feet. She sucked in a breath. Damn it, why did he have to be Zach? Everything had been motoring along just fine with Jack Halloran, and now she had to reevaluate their entire relationship—however short it might be at this point—in both its Jack and Zach incarnations. And she needed to accomplish that arduous task within the next few minutes, before they reached the law firm and he rightfully demanded a reply. She knew which answer she should give. The safe one. The passionless, career-choking, leave-no-room-for-temptation choice. The choice that would send him out of her life completely. Because, no matter how she sliced it, neither working for nor sleeping with Zach Halliday would be smart at all.

Chloe hummed along to the U-2 song reverberating over her iPod as her sandals smacked the hot Yaletown sidewalk and a battered garment bag whacked her legs. Her lunch-break hike to Gastown had been worth it. She now owned the funkiest, hip-length sable fur coat the vintage-shop owner could produce—a direct import from some old lady’s attic and perfect for dry days this winter. Naturally, Chloe didn’t believe in wearing new fur. But the women from the last century hadn’t known any better, and Chloe couldn’t let all those little sables’ lives go to waste. It wouldn’t be right.

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She opened the glass door to Whole Latte Lovin’ and arrowed for the serving counter. Customers packed the place, but it looked like Jonnie, Sara and Frank had everything under control. Jonnie passed a take-out cup to— The Suit. Chloe nearly jumped out of her iPod. There he was in all his BillBlass-clad, baby-making glory, his back to her as he accepted his macchiato from Jonnie. A leather briefcase duplicating the rich brown of her new/old winter coat hung from his other hand. Was he heading for a meeting and just had to stop in to catch a glimpse of— uh, to taste her coffee? The Suit half turned. Heart pounding faster than Bono tickled his guitar strings, Chloe ducked behind a display of travel mugs and coffee beans. Her cheeks burned. What a nightmare! If The Suit caught her ogling him, he might try talking to her. His arm could graze her boobs as he leaned in to murmur something clever, and next thing she knew she’d chuck her Lent commitment out the window. Besides, he was a Suit. She must keep her distance, lovely though the man was. Powering down her iPod, she peeked out from the display. Jonnie’s huge grin told her he’d witnessed everything. But had The Suit? The frown puckering the man’s forehead could mean: (a) he’d seen her and thought her a crazy woman, or (b) he hated her coffee. As if eradicating disturbing thoughts, The Suit shook his head and left. Thankful no other customers lingered around Jonnie, Chloe ran to the counter. “Take these.” She shoved the garment bag, her purse and iPod at him. “I’m extending my lunch hour by fifteen.” She flapped her hand toward the door. “Surveillance.”

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Jonnie placed the armload beneath the counter. “I don’t blame you. Were he on my team and Frank out of the picture, I’d do the same thing.” “How do you know he’s not on your team?” Dark eyebrows hiked. “Chloe, if that man’s gay, I’m a wombat’s uncle. Now go. You don’t want to lose your tail.” Jonnie chuckled. “Thanks.” Chloe dashed out the door. As she wiped her clammy palms on her skort, she glimpsed her guy strolling halfway down the sun-strewn block. Staying close to the old, converted warehouse buildings, she trailed him. He glanced over his shoulder before rounding a corner, and she darted into a recessed doorway, heart racketing. One-Mississippi, Two-Mississippi. She crept out of the doorway. Turning the corner, she spied him entering a brick building. She approached the old wooden door and scanned the brass business nameplates—North Star Marketing, McKitrick Advertising, Knowles & Clyde, Architects. She chewed the inside of her cheek. Now what? The door swung out, and she jumped back. “Chloe?” “Hi, Marco.” Her old boyfriend from two relationships ago. “Why are you here?” “I had a meeting with McKitrick Advertising. Now that I’m opening more pizza places, I need to get serious about radio spots.” He crooked the wide smile that had once baked her brownies. “How about you?” She scratched her arm. “You know, shopping.” Without her purse. Groan. Marco didn’t notice its absence. He followed her off the stoop. “Do you have a minute? I just screwed up big-time with Amy, and I need your advice.”

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Yeah, she was a great choice to dispense relationship advice. However, Marco was well aware of her faults. If he wanted her input, who was she to say no? “Sure. Walk me back to work and we’ll see what I can do.”

Ethan paged through a sports magazine while waiting for the receptionist to signal his appointment. He was losing it—there was no other explanation. In the coffeehouse and again on the street, he’d thought he spied the brunette he’d hoped would serve his macchiato. However, whenever he’d turned to catch her eye, she hadn’t been there. His skyrocketing stress levels must be inducing delusions. Because why would a grown woman play hide-and-seek on him? They’d only spoken once or twice, when he’d first begun visiting Whole Latte Lovin’. He hadn’t been rude to her, had he? Sometimes, when absorbed with business matters, he forgot basics like replying “Fine, how are you?” or smiling as he paid for his coffee. Or—the biggest bonehead move so far—neglecting to read her apron name tag. The steam from his coffee cup drifted from the side table. He lifted the macchiato for a sip then resumed staring at magazine pages. Now that he thought about it, the brunette never served him anymore. Whenever he entered the coffeehouse, she hightailed it to the stockroom, the washroom, or turned to speak to a co-worker. All provided excellent views of her ass, but wouldn’t score him a date. A muscle ticced below one eye. It’s for the best. While Ethan prided himself on being attentive, he didn’t have time in his schedule right now to escort the woman to a bus stop, much less shower her with affection. For the foreseeable future, his life belonged to Halliday Enterprises. However, come winter, Dad’s

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plans for Zach accomplished, maybe Ethan could finally carve out a personal life. Focus on that. The receptionist looked up. “Mr. Bartlett will see you now.” Ethan stood and reached for his briefcase. Winter. He dragged in a breath. The months couldn’t pass fast enough.

“Thanks, Jenna. I appreciate it,” Tess said toward the speakerphone of her new cordless. She rummaged in a kitchen drawer for batteries then tore into the shiny box from Hoochie-Mama Love Boutique. “No problem,” her youngest sister replied. “They’re my worst set of clubs. If you destroy them, I won’t hold it against you.” “Your faith in my golfing abilities is mind boggling.” Tess tugged her new vibrator out of the packaging and stood it on the counter. Well, well, Mr. Good Vibrations looked like he’d live up to his name. The salesgirl had described him as their “extra-large, realistic model”, and she hadn’t been kidding. If this big guy didn’t take the edge off the fantasies that had bombarded Tess since meeting Zach, nothing would. “Tess, you’re echoing,” Jenna said. “What are you doing at ten at night that you needed to put me on speaker, anyway?” “Making chocolate cake.” Tess twisted open the sex toy and popped in the batteries. “You never bake.” “Yes, I do.” She twisted the base back on. “When the mood strikes me.” The mood was definitely striking her now. “Who are you golfing with?”

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“A new client.” Zach. “He’s around thirty.” Three years older than she. And extremely talented when it came to matters beneath her desk. “A man?” “That’s what ‘he’ usually implies.” Tess’s nipples tightened beneath her sleep shirt. Every time she remembered Zach caressing her panties yesterday, arousal coursed through her. Other than their amazing phone sex and approaching him in the bar, when had she last acted so free? She couldn’t stop thinking about what might have continued to happen in her office if Sammi hadn’t interrupted them. If she were sexually braver. If she didn’t give two rips about her career. Jenna’s chuckle carried over the speaker. “He must be hot. You hate golfing.” “No, I don’t.” “Maybe you should do more than golf with this guy.” Unease trickled down Tess’s spine. Why couldn’t Jenna and Chloe accept that she needed to put her career first? Not to insult their professions, but Chloe supervised a few coffeehouse workers and Jenna had recently graduated from golf course management school. Would anyone care if either of them hooked up with a customer? She rolled the vibrator in her hands. Her thumb nicked the switch, and the unit buzzed. Squealing, she tossed Mr. G.V. into the torn box. “What was that?” Jenna asked. Face blazing, Tess grabbed Mr. G.V. and turned him off. “The stove timer.” “Sounds like a vibrator.” Jenna of the Overactive Libido would know! “It’s just the dinger telling me the stove is hot enough for my cookies.” “You mean your chocolate cake.”

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“Yeah. That.” Jenna laughed. “Oookay, whatever. Enjoy yourself, Tess. G’night.” “’Night.” Tess returned the phone to its charging unit in the living room. After covering Buddy’s cage with a night cloth, she absconded to her bedroom, Mr. G. in hand. Under the covers, she closed her eyes and lifted her sleep shirt above her breasts. Parting her legs, she started the vibrator. Loud humming reverberated in the quiet summer night, warming her palm and shooting tingles up her arm. She bit her bottom lip. She needed a fantasy—featuring Zach. His deep voice on the phone, his skillful fingers stroking her panties. “Keep doing that,” she’d murmured, and he’d responded in gravely tones, “My pleasure.” A moment later, she didn’t require lube. Zach’s hands and mouth moved over her, his husky voice spurring her excitement. She moved Mr. G. slowly in and out of her slick channel, pushing the toy deep until her vagina throbbed, then easing out the unit to hover at her entrance…until the pulsing subsided and she wasn’t in danger of coming too soon. She wanted this to last. Her swollen labia and aching nipples craved Zach’s touch, courtesy of Mr. G. Her fantasy transported them to her office. She and Zach were under her desk again. This time, he tugged off her panties and positioned himself behind her, on his knees like she was. Except this was a fantasy, so while she leaned onto her elbows in their hidey-hole, he found room to maneuver. He slid two fingers inside her, and she moaned. “God, you’re wet,” he murmured. “Incredible. Amazing.” His fingers stroked faster and faster, spiraling her toward climax. “Not yet,” he whispered, his big fingers leaving her body. “Please.” Her need for him saturated her voice.

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“No, not my fingers, Tess. I want my cock inside you.” “Oh yes. I want that, too.” “I need you out from under this desk.” Right now, she’d do whatever he asked. He moved away, giving her room to respond to his commands. On her knees, she backed up. She stood and kissed him, their tongues tangling in a tantalizing rhythm she yearned to duplicate with their bodies. She didn’t have to worry about Sammi barging in, because the seductive curtain of night had fallen in her office. They were alone. Zach ripped off her jacket and bra and greedily sucked her nipples. The erotic sensations zipped to her clit. In another instant, they’d torn off their clothes. His cock was massive. Her pussy clenched as he lifted her onto the desk and pushed apart her legs. “I’m going to fuck you now,” he announced. “Bareback. No condom.” She tried to speak, but could only nod. Grabbing her hips, he pumped into her, stretching her inner walls until they burned on the edge of an intense pleasure-pain. She hooked her legs behind his waist, and he carried her to the window with their bodies joined. He opened the blinds and set her on the low ledge. Her spine met cool glass, and she gasped. His cock slid out of her. She whimpered. “It’s okay,” he murmured. “The sky is glittering with stars. No one can see us.” He thrust into her body again, and the incredible tension mounted as he fucked her against the window. He whispered in her ear, “Except…there’s a man in the building across the street…with a telescope. He’s stroking his cock, because he’s watching us, Tess. He’s watching me fuck you.”

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Her eyes flew open. Where had that thought come from? It’s a fantasy. Just go with it. Her eyes drifted shut. “He’s watching us because I want him to,” Zach said against her mouth as his thick cock thrust in and out. “He can only see your beautiful back, your hair strewn over your shoulders…but he knows I’m fucking you, and it’s driving him crazy. He wants you, babe, but he can’t have you. Because you’re mine.” He thrust hard. Her spine pushed against the window, her inner muscles gripping his cock as she climaxed. The pulsating vibrations felt like they would never end. She cried out, and he shuddered against her shoulder, his breathing ragged. Slowly, he pulled out. Tess opened her eyes to the dark summer night. “Well.” She sat Mr. G. on the nightstand. “I needed that.” Licking her dry lips, she gazed around the shadowy bedroom. Her orgasm had rocked her world, but a strange sadness filled her that she’d needed to resort to a sex toy and a voyeuristic fantasy to get herself off when a few heated touches from Zach Halliday could accomplish the deed just as quickly…and feel ten times more amazing. Grunting, she tossed the sheets off her body. She’d paid good money for Mr. G.—she’d use the toy three times a night if she had to. Anything to get this insane attraction to Zach Halliday out of her mind. She snatched the vibrator off the nightstand and stomped into the bathroom to clean it.

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Chapter Seven

“So there’s no Jake and there’s no Jack,” Chloe said from behind the hissing espresso machine bordering the Whole Latte Lovin’ counter. “Right.” Seated atop a tall, wrought iron stool, Tess readjusted the thick braid she’d fashioned at the office. “There’s only Zach.” And Mr. G. After a second night of indulging in erotic sessions with her inanimate lover, she’d settled into a symbiotic relationship with the sex toy. She got her rocks off while “he” enjoyed the satisfaction of knowing she couldn’t sue his manufacturer for defective workmanship. Chloe passed a cappuccino to a customer then returned to the snacking area. “Zach Halliday, no less, of the mucho-moneyed Hallidays and the studly reputation. Mr. Hunk of Burnin’ Love is full of surprises.” Another customer advanced to the order station. Checking her watch, Chloe gestured at Frank to take over. Her gaze moved back to Tess. “And you left work at two o’clock in the afternoon to see him? Impressive. This bet has given you a major kick in the pants, Tee. You never take time off.” “You make it sound like, before this bet, all I did was work, Chloe. How about my ‘entourage of dates’, as you call them?” “They don’t count. You haven’t done the wild thing with any of them. Not that you’ve told me, anyway.” “Don’t worry, I haven’t.” Tess hadn’t even fantasized about getting it on with a member of the entourage. The whole point behind assembling her

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collection of platonic male friends was that not one had a prayer of leading her into temptation. Chloe’s gaze narrowed. “Speaking of the entourage, you have been nixing any and all invites, haven’t you? I’m dealing with a lawyer. I’ve learned to be precise.” Nodding, Tess finished tidying her braid. “I turned down a date this morning. Richard called.” She ran her hands down her khaki shorts. “That stockbroker dork?” “He’s not a dork. He wanted to have drinks tonight.” “And you said no? Go, Tess!” “It was no big deal. When I explained how swamped I am at work, Richard said he understood.” Actually, every guy she’d turned down in the eight days since meeting Zach had been extremely understanding about her sudden unavailability. Chloe had been right when she’d implied Tess’s love life lacked luster. “Don’t sell yourself short,” Chloe said. “It’s a huge deal that you turned down Dick.” Tess laughed. “Richard.” “Whatever.” The fiend grinned. “Of all the guys in your entourage, Dickie’s the tamest, which also makes him the safest. It’s goodbye safe for you, hel-lo studmuffin.” Chloe paused. “At least, it had better be. You haven’t said yes to another member of the entourage?” Tess shook her head. “I haven’t dated a soul since before that night in Danver’s, and I don’t plan to.” Mostly because she was swamped, but also because she needed Chloe to believe she was on track with the bet. She didn’t have the stamina to do a good job with the Crockett’s deal, help Zach with his

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business, concentrate on building her client list, pamper herself with her new sex toy, and keep Chloe at bay. Something had to give. Out of necessity, that “something” translated into pulling a scam on her best friend. “You mean to say you don’t plan on dating anyone but Zach,” Chloe specified above the instrumental music flowing from the coffeehouse speakers. “Um, yeah.” “Wonderful progress, Tee. I’m proud of you.” Tess glanced away. Chloe’s compliments would evaporate faster than rainwater in the desert if she realized Tess wasn’t dating Zach, just seeing him for business reasons. However, even if Tess wanted to spill her guts to her best bud, she couldn’t. On Monday, when she’d agreed to represent Zach, she’d promised to keep his plans secret. While usually she had no difficulty maintaining client confidentiality, she’d never before needed to pretend a business relationship didn’t exist. “Don’t be too proud.” She faked absorption in her cranberry muffin, poking at a mashed bit of red fruit and licking the juice off her finger. “I’ll be as proud as I want.” Chloe crossed her arms over her kelly-green apron. “I thought you’d need a ton more pushing to reach this point. You’ve surprised me.” “I’m daring and unafraid now, thanks to you.” Even more daring than you might think. Tess’s lips twitched. She felt like she hoarded a naughty, sexy secret. And she supposed she did. Because no way would she tell Chloe about the phone sex or her desk adventures, or especially her nerves and exhilaration at the thought of seeing Zach again.

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Chloe stepped aside to allow Frank access to the glass pastry cabinet. Once the tall man had retrieved a muffin, Chloe rested crossed arms on the counter. “Where is the infamous Zach Halliday taking you?” “Golfing.” “Yuck.” “I like to golf.” “Uh-huh. You only golf when your job requires it. You don’t even own a set of clubs.” Tess’s mouth firmed. It would really help her cause if Chloe accepted her white lies at face value! She picked at her muffin. “We’re getting a set from Jenna’s before heading to Northview. But in a way I am working. As a favor to his father, Zach is sort of involved in the latest Halliday Enterprises deal. He’s very intelligent, and he has some great ideas. We’ll probably toss them around on the golf course.” Truthfully, they wouldn’t discuss the Crockett’s acquisition in detail, other than to promote Tess’s lawyerly skills to the rich cohorts Zach had invited along. Specifics of the deal were restricted to key players from both companies, plus their accountants and lawyers. However, she needed to supply Chloe with enough information to render her afternoon plans with Zach believable. “A lot of business is conducted on golf courses, Chlo.” She slurped her iced latte. “I’m too busy at work right now to take time off without a damn good reason.” “So you’re being sneaky by combining work with a date. Smart.” “Thanks.” “It doesn’t really count as a first date, though.” “Our golf game? It does so.” Tess set aside her latte glass. “It. Does. Not. At the most, it’s a half-date.”

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“You’re quibbling about this? I’m not hassling you about your love life.” An odd look entered her friend’s gaze. “That’s because I have one. I’m just taking a breather before deciding who to hunt down next.” Chloe fluffed her hair. “Okay, it’s a half-date. I take it that means you can’t browbeat me if we don’t kiss?” “Grrrr. You’re becoming far too good at this, Tess. I’m warning you, I require at least a half-kiss to satisfy the requirements of the bet.” “A half-kiss for a half-date? So when he leans in to kiss my lips, I can pull away and he can kiss my golf club? As long as he’s puckering, it’ll qualify as a half-kiss.” “He can kiss whatever you want, but there must be flesh involved. No golf clubs.” “But if I don’t pucker in return?” “Then I guess it’ll qualify as a half-kiss. Although I can’t imagine why you wouldn’t want to pucker. The man is seriously hot. I’d be puckering all over him if I were you. In fact, if we didn’t already have a bet, I’d issue a challenge right now that when you kiss Zach Halliday you won’t be able to stop at a peck or a pucker. No passive fish lips for you, my girl. It’s been far too long. There’ll be tongues involved.” Chloe nodded sagely. “Definitely. Tongues on the eighteenth hole. I can see it now.” All this talk about tongues and holes spiked Tess’s temperature like the milk frothing and steaming from the over-energetic espresso machine. Body warming, she undid the second button of her short-sleeved camp shirt and fanned her neck with a paper napkin. “I can’t promise tongues, Chloe.” Although she could dream about them. Tongues and holes. Oh yes.

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She needed to replenish her supply of bubble bath, maybe buy some new bath towels. Ones constructed of nubby terry cloth. A remarkable number of hers were always wet lately. “I’ll just play it by ear,” she murmured. “His tongue in your ear?” Chloe’s gaze darted away. “Shit. Don’t look now, but—” Tess swiveled on the stool. Studmuffin at twelve o’clock. His tongue in her ear? He must be hearing things. But, hey, after their erotic phone call and sexy adventure beneath her desk, maybe his ears weren’t deceiving him, after all. Zach shoved his hands into the pockets of his navy golf shorts. “Did I hear someone say tongues? Sounds like an interesting conversation.” He hadn’t thought Tess’s blue eyes could grow any larger. A blush staining her cheeks, she gripped the back rung of her stool. “Sh-shoe tongues,” she stammered while her brunette friend’s gaze followed their conversation with rapt interest. “Shoe tongues?” he echoed. That was original. “And ears?” “Uh, no, not ears. Years. I need to buy some golf shoes. The tongues of mine are tattered. I haven’t bought a new pair in years.” She strangled her napkin. Zach looked at her feet. “You’re not wearing golf shoes.” He checked out the vicinity, but couldn’t spot evidence that she’d brought a pair into the coffeehouse, either. “That’s because they’re so worn out. I need to buy a new pair at the pro shop.”

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“Allll right,” he said in a tone meant to convey he didn’t buy her story for one minute but was gentleman enough to let it pass. “You should pack your runners with you in the golf cart and change into them after a few holes, in case your new shoes create blisters.” “Good thinking.” Zach grinned. Okay, it was entirely possible that Tess and her friend hadn’t been discussing him at all. Maybe Tess wanted some other guy’s tongue in her ear. Hell, maybe she’d developed a habit of tossing around quirky pickup lines and participating in juicy phone calls. He extended a hand to her friend. “We met at the bar, but I didn’t catch your name. Zach Halliday.” “Chloe Nichols.” They shook hands over the counter. “Nice seeing you again. Thanks for giving me Tess’s real phone number, by the way.” No doubt a fascinating story lay behind why Tess had slipped him a fake phone number only to have her friend thwart her efforts. He’d ask her about the matter someday, but he needed to get to know her better first. In his experience, women liked their secrets, those enigmatic illusions that maintained the aura of feminine mystery guys like him found so damn intriguing. And why shouldn’t they? Any red-blooded male on the planet would acknowledge that the chase was half the fun. Zach intended to soak up every ounce of pleasure he could from chasing Tess. “You’re welcome,” Chloe said. “But I should let you know I don’t usually—” “Do that sort of thing? There’s a lot of that going around.” Tess slapped her tattered napkin on the counter. “Could we please stop discussing how Zach got my real phone number? I wasn’t myself that night.”

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Chloe snorted. “And you haven’t been yourself ever since.” “You haven’t?” Zach grazed her upper arm with his fingertips. She stiffened, but didn’t pull away. An instant later, the tension in her arm eased. He rested his fingers on her short shirtsleeve, his palm cradling her warm, freckled skin. He gazed at her neck. Wavy wisps of hair drifted loose from her braid. The hairstyle exposed her small ears, revealing dainty, attached lobes. Tiny, twisted-gold hoops dangled from them. He developed a sudden craving to discover the flavor of gold. “Relax. We’re teasing.” He rubbed her arm. He didn’t want to make her uncomfortable. However, after overhearing that riveting morsel about tongues and ears, he wondered… Did Chloe realize theirs was a business arrangement? Or, considering his confidentiality issues, had Tess allowed her friend to believe they were dating? To be on the safe side, he’d assume the dating. Tess could always correct him later. Because if, in her estimation, he overstepped his bounds, he had no reservations that she would correct him. She didn’t take guff from anyone, his beautiful Miss Strawberry Surprise. “It doesn’t matter how or why I got your real number, babe. I’m just glad I have it.” She blinked. “Do me a favor?” “Anything.” If she replied, “Don’t call me ‘babe’”, he’d take it as indication that she’d revealed their business relationship to Chloe. She wouldn’t allow him the endearment in public now that she’d curtailed it in private. Not unless she was on his side one hundred percent. “This couple we’re meeting today?” she asked.

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“Sydney and Teddy.” No objection to “babe”, yet. She’d hit the eighty percent mark. Chloe scoffed, “They sound like a couple of stuffed toys.” “More like stuffed shirts.” Not his favorite people, but great contacts for Tess. “Why are you golfing with them then?” “Sydney’s looking for a hotshot lawyer, so naturally I thought of Tess.” He could be honest on that point without risking a thing. Chloe smiled. “How nice. I like this guy, Tee. He’s a keeper.” Tess emitted a tiny grunt of impatience. “My favor?” “Sorry, babe. Shoot.” This time her sky-blue gaze flipped him a subtle warning. She continued to restrain whatever objection sure to be bubbling in her brain. Ninety percent and climbing. “This might seem like an odd request, but could you please not call me Tess when we’re with Sydney and Teddy? Or around your brother and father? Or Rob Tanaka, for that matter. I use Teresa for anything work-related. It helps separate my personal and professional lives.” “Not a problem.” Zach knew all about wearing masks. After trying to fit into his father’s corporation for the better part of a decade, he was an expert. “I might slip up now and then.” Maybe work in a Miss Strawberry Surprise just to witness her reaction. “But I’ll do my best.” Relief traced her gracious smile. “Thank you.” Chloe patted her hand. “Maybe you should have a signal. Like if he calls you Tess, you could kick his shins. It always works with me.” Tess laughed. “Chloe, I don’t kick you! Besides, kicking is too conspicuous.”

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“Well, thanks,” Zach said. “My conspicuous shins thank you, too. Chloe might have something, though. We should devise a signal. Nothing violent, I beg you.” “You could kiss him, Tee.” “Yeah, you could kiss me. That would shut me up—” and work him up “— fast.” Was it his imagination, or had her pupils dilated in a manner befitting, say, excitement? Her spun-sugar lips parted. However, instead of providing fodder for his randy midnight urgings, those succulent lips turned away as she glanced at Chloe. “Don’t you have to work?” “I’m on my break.” Zach was riding high. He’d found an ally in Chloe Nichols, that was certain. But if he didn’t take advantage of Chloe’s genius within the next thirty seconds, he might lose this chance with Tess. Who knew when he’d get another? He placed a hand on the cool, iron rung of her chair. “The kissing could work. No tongues,” he murmured, wary of going too far. Chloe cleared her throat. Zach watched from the corner of his eye as the short brunette stepped away to speak to a coworker, affording him and Tess as much privacy as the packed coffeehouse permitted. He focused his gaze on Tess. Indecision brimmed her eyes as she flicked another glance to Chloe, providing him with the distinct impression that she gauged her friend’s reaction to the possibility of a kiss. The likelihood she’d pretended they were dating soared to ninety-eight percent. Talk about dedication to one’s client. He wasn’t about to complain.

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Finally, her gaze found his. “No tongues,” she whispered. He nodded. He loved it when she ordered him around. Besides, she might think she was in control, but they were enmeshed in a sensual tug-of-war he intended to win. He’d ease her along, step by step, until he had her where he wanted. In his bed. Eager and willing. Above him. Beneath him. Her hot silk closing around him. But for now… “Just something soft and tender,” he said. One hand remained on the back of her chair. Slowly, he raised the other to the underside of her chin and tipped it up. The violet scent of her perfume intoxicated him. “Something like this.” Lowering his mouth, he kissed her gently. Her lips, warm and plush and pliant, parted. He exerted the tiniest bit more pressure. God, she was the sweetest thing he’d ever tasted. The yearning to abandon the no-tongues stipulation and deepen the kiss drove through him, but he held back. This wasn’t the time or place, and restraint provided its own rewards. Temptation. Anticipation. Burgeoning excitement. He glided his fingers along the satiny flesh curving her jaw, then lower, to where her pulse beat in her throat. Heaven. He’d found heaven…in the middle of a crowded coffeehouse. But that wasn’t all. There was something more. An ancient, timeless need that whispered of myriad pleasures to come thrummed in his blood, echoed through him, tugged him home. Man, he could easily stay this way forever. Tess on his side. Beside him. One hundred percent.

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Tess parked her and Sydney’s golf cart near the third-hole women’s tee box and thanked her lucky stars Zach hadn’t booked this game on Northview’s water-dominated Canal Course. Supposedly, the Ridge Course was more challenging, with its sloping fairways and hidden greens, but her swing gave her enough trouble without having to constantly worry about hitting into the drink. Sydney, a reed-thin brunette who’d recently inherited several art galleries from her grandmother, adjusted rhinestone-studded sunglasses. “Ready, Teresa?” she asked in a clipped British accent that sounded suspiciously put-on. “This is the hardest driving hole on the course. Let’s show the men what we’re made of!” Easy for you to say. Tess followed Sydney out of the cart. According to Zach, Sydney van Hoyt had been raised on leisure activities like golf, tennis and sailing. And, like Zach, Sydney excelled at them all. If Tess wanted to pursue more clients of Sydney’s caliber, clearly she needed to rope Jenna into giving her more golf lessons. Pasting on a polite smile, she waited while Sydney retrieved her driver. The woman issued a cheery “Toodles!” before skipping off to join her fiancé, an amiable guy with ginger hair and a small paunch who’d parked the men’s cart several meters behind theirs on the path. Turning, Tess pulled the driver out of Jenna’s old golf bag. Within seconds, her finely tuned Zach-radar zipped up her spine. She whirled to see him striding toward her, the afternoon sun glinting off his sport Oakleys. Sydney and Teddy remained at the other cart, Sydney’s gentle critique of Teddy’s drive from the men’s tee drifting on the slight breeze. As Zach reached Tess, he removed his sunglasses, revealing warm, sinful-aschocolate-sauce eyes. “How are the golf shoes?”

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His sexy smile nearly melted her panties. Didn’t the man know how not to look and sound incredibly hot? “Fantastic.” A lie. The new shoes pinched like crazy. She should have taken more time ensuring a proper fit, but she hadn’t wanted her tardiness to annoy Sydney. Plus, after telling Zach she planned to buy the golf shoes, she’d needed to commit to the purchase—or confirm his potential suspicions that she and Chloe had been talking about his tongue. In her ear. “Great. Are you and Sydney hitting it off?” Nodding, Tess released a breath. She needed to distract herself from anything that reminded her of tongues and kissing. The problem was everything reminded her of Zach’s kiss. The electrifying sensation of his lips on hers, his exquisitely gentle touch, the feeling he’d been holding back, that he’d wanted to test her limits but hadn’t. She forced her thoughts to Sydney. “She’s not in the mood to talk business, so I’ll wait until later in the game. But I’ve learned their wedding is next June, and she’s keeping her name.” His head tilted. “They’re getting married?” “Yes, Zach, that’s why she’s wearing a two-carat rock on her left ring finger.” “I hadn’t noticed.” His husky tone implied that he’d been focused on something much more personal. On her? A seductive shiver raced through her. “I’m impressed.” He glanced at Sydney and Teddy as the pair started for the tee box. “The key to helping someone like Sydney feel comfortable is to keep them talking about themselves. People love telling their life stories. Sydney, especially, loves talking about herself.” A half-smile curved his lips. “It appears you’re doing good, Teresa.” He tugged her braid.

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“Thanks, but I doubt my game impresses her. I keep topping the ball. It’s embarrassing.” “You’re nervous.” “Tell me about it.” “Relax, find your balance before you swing. And remember to shift your weight onto your left foot on the downswing.” “Gee, that’s all?” “I’ll show you while Sydney tees off.” They strolled toward the couple now waiting at the tee box. Zach’s hand settled on her back, his large palm warm through the linen. Heart hammering, she asked lightly, “You mean give me more confusing tips?” “No, I mean I’ll show you. Step behind you, put my hands on your hands, follow through a couple of practice swings with you.” She slanted him a glance. “I don’t think so.” Much too close for comfort. “Afraid standing that close to you will excite me?” She might as well be honest. “Yes.” “Afraid it’ll excite you, too?” Her nipples tightened. “No.” He laughed. “I had to kiss you at the coffeehouse, you know. Your friend looked like she expected it. What did you tell her about us?” Heat climbed her neck. Now definitely wasn’t the time to admit she was using their situation to outsmart Chloe. She needed to maintain as professional a demeanor as possible, given the circumstances. Zach possessed a great sense of humor. He’d probably find the story of how she was working her way around the bet amusing, but she couldn’t chance it. He might pull his business and pull her chance to win clients like Sydney while he was at it.

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“She probably was expecting something personal between us,” Tess admitted. “I couldn’t exactly tell her you’re a client, could I?” He offered a charismatic grin. “That’s what I thought, so that’s why I kissed you,” he remarked as if he’d done her a favor. He was incorrigible. “I know why you kissed me, Zach. But it can’t happen again.” “Sure.” A devilish gleam lit his eyes. “Zach, you do understand that?” “Whatever you say…Teresa.” He walked over to join Teddy as Sydney set her ball on the tee. Tess bit her lip. She was in trouble. Because she didn’t believe him.

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Ethan smacked Zach’s serve with a ceiling shot that sent Zach to the rear of the racquetball court. Wham! Zach drilled the ball down the line then hunkered down for the rally. “I thought you said you hadn’t played in two months!” he shouted between labored breaths. His brother’s return whistled past his ears, bouncing off a side wall. “I haven’t!” Ethan’s court shoes squeaked. “I wouldn’t be playing now if you hadn’t dragged me away from the office.” Whack! Zach’s wrist snapped nicely on the pass shot. Breathing heavily, he stepped parallel to his brother as they wrestled for control of center court. Zach’s shots had dominated both games, but Eth was no pushover. They both sweated and grunted like two pigs in a sauna. “Aw, c’mon, it’s your lunch hour, bro!” “Yeah, and I could be eating.” Ethan barreled a wicked backhand, but Zach lobbed a high return, forcing his brother behind him. Eyes on the ball, Zach seized center court. “You hungry?” Wham! “Starving.” The ball sailed in low. “Then enjoy this can of whoop-ass!” Zach slammed in a perfect kill shot. The ball bounced on the floor. Ethan grunted, stretching for the return. He missed. The ball bounced again, earning Zach the win. “Thanks, man.” Ethan’s chest heaved. “That was filling.”

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“Clever.” Zach shook his brother’s hand. “Dad always said you were the smart one.” “Dad always said I was the focused one.” Eth removed his protective eyewear. “I’m focused.” “Yeah, on having a good time.” “One of us has to be.” Zach clapped his brother’s back. “Let’s grab a shower and I’ll buy you lunch, fill you in on the meeting with the event planner. She liked Dad’s idea for the Floretta House fundraiser.” “I heard. She’s still putting figures together, though. There’s nothing to discuss.” “We can share a meal, anyway. You seem so stressed lately, Eth. You need to relax.” “Sorry, no can do. I have to get back to the office.” “You’re gonna stink.” Ethan smiled, a rare occurrence lately. “Haw-haw. I am having the shower.” They retrieved their towels and sports bags from beside the door. Zach stuffed his protective eyewear and racquet into his bag. Ethan rubbed his face with a towel. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you about something,” he said as they headed to the locker room, voices echoing off the sports club’s concrete walls. “Dad thinks you’re primed for the Crockett’s deal. Are you?” Zach tightened his grip on his sports bag. He’d rather discuss Floretta House. “Why does Dad think I’m primed?” “I don’t know, Zach, asking Teresa Sheridan for the projections might have something to do with it. Or was that an excuse to get her alone?” At the time, he could think of nothing else. “I needed to talk to her, Eth.”

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“About Crockett’s?” his brother asked in a quiet voice. Zach followed Ethan into the locker room. The scents of deodorant and sweaty gym socks permeated the air. “Because that’s the impression you gave Dad,” Ethan said. “Not to mention Lawrence. You never ask for projections. You never show interest in any facet of a deal.” Ethan glanced around the sparsely filled room. “Even I might have thought you’d changed your tune if not for the story of how Teresa—or is it Tess?—picked you up in Danver’s.” Zach’s jaw stiffened. He should have kept his damn mouth shut. “It’s Teresa,” he said tightly, maintaining a low tone, like his brother’s. “She didn’t pick me up, per se. But you saw how she was dressed that night, all prim and proper, like at the meeting. That she even spoke to me seemed off. And you did leave quickly. After the gags you’ve pulled on me over the years, is it any wonder I thought it was a setup?” “Jesus, Zach. I left because I was wiped.” “I know that now.” “I haven’t played a joke on you in months.” “More reason to believe you did it this time.” “Look, I see your point. However, I still question…” Eth shrugged as if Zach should fill in the blanks. But damn it if he was going to. “What?” he asked. Ethan mumbled, “If we should have her working on the acquisition.” Zach thumped his gym bag onto the wooden bench near their lockers. “You’re calling her character into question? Because of my stupid story?” “Zach—” “She’s a great lawyer, Eth. Why else would L.G. hire her? Besides, Rob Tanaka uses her. His parents do, too. They all think the world of her, like

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Virginia and L.G.” He spun the numbers on his combination lock and yanked open the metal locker door. “Don’t take Crockett’s away from her. You know it would affect how L.G. perceives her.” Ethan sighed. “She can do a good job?” “Of course. Like you, she’s very focused.” Yesterday afternoon at Northview had proven that. Once Tess’s nerves had settled, her game had improved markedly. Later, over Chateaubriand in the Palmer Room, she’d handled Sydney van Hoyt like a pro, displaying interest in the art galleries without falling all over Sydney, and asking the right questions. A thoughtful frown creased his brother’s forehead. “All right. If you believe Teresa’s capable, then I do, too. You’re the people person, not me.” Zach grinned. “Don’t you forget it.” Ethan pulled off his sweat-stained T-shirt and stuffed the garment into his gym bag. “What happened in her office, then? Did you ask her out?” “Yep.” Zach stripped off his equally sweaty clothes. Technically, he’d asked her out during their lusty phone call. However, Ethan didn’t know about the phone sex or office foreplay—and he never would. “It went over like a lead balloon.” “She said no? That must have been a blow to your ego.” “I’ll survive.” For a little while, anyway. The sparks between he and Tess were too intense to ignore indefinitely. For now, he just needed to drum up a reason to see her again. Ethan reached for the shower stuff in his locker. “One more thing. If the supermarket chain doesn’t interest you, you should tell Dad.” “Not yet.” Zach wrapped a towel around his naked hips. “Why not?”

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“I have my reasons.” Namely, working his ass off to open Climbing The Walls. “Don’t wait too long.” Ethan stepped toward the showers. Zach popped out a humorless laugh. Ethan wasn’t happy unless he obsessed about something. “As if one meeting could make up for years of unfeigned boredom. Dad would have to have a screw loose to seriously believe I’m into Hef’s headache.” Ethan shrugged. “I’m just saying. Don’t wait too long.”

Tess sipped her afternoon cup of coffee. Ugh. She shuddered. Stone cold. How long ago had Sammi brought in the mug? Tess had thought only minutes had passed, but the coffee tasted like it had sat on her desk for hours. She’d love to believe she’d lost track of time because of work, but she’d be kidding herself. Between golf and dinner yesterday, she’d been too wired to sleep well. Not even an explosive romp with Mr. G. Spot had calmed her, either last night or this morning. Weariness had tugged at her throughout the day, causing her to space out far too often. Every time the phone rang, she jumped, thinking it was Sydney van Hoyt calling to retain legal counsel. Or Zach, asking for a report on the zoning variances for the space he wanted to lease. If she wasn’t careful, juggling Zach’s business needs and promises of client referrals with her other work commitments would hamper her progress on the Crockett’s acquisition. She’d barely dug into the due diligence paperwork that had accumulated while she’d wooed Sydney. She needed to put in several more hours today before she left the office. She wanted those hours to be productive. She couldn’t allow Phil Renfrew to outshine her.

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Setting aside the mug of cold coffee, she returned to examining share certificates. Several minutes later her direct line rang, but she reacted calmly. Poised, professional, prepared. The three P’s would be her new mantra. She picked up the receiver. “Teresa Sheridan.” “Good afternoon…Teresa.” “Zach.” As usual, the seductive way he spoke her formal name curled awareness through her. She couldn’t help smiling in response. She’d always thought of “Teresa” as respectable and dignified—the perfect lawyer persona— but Zach’s rendition sounded warm and inviting, even a little naughty. Like the man. She flexed her fingers. Think three P’s. “What can I do for you?” she asked politely. His deep chuckle carried over the line. “That’s a loaded question.” She straightened in her chair, her legs occupying the space where he’d caressed her to near orgasm four days ago. Her clit thumped, and she uncrossed her legs. She wouldn’t let him get to her, like she had at the golf course. She was in control here, not him. “Work-wise,” she replied. “What can I do for you as your lawyer, Zach?” “Trash your ethics and sleep with me.” Friendly teasing laced his tone, but her heart raced anyway. “If you’re calling about the zoning, I’m sorry, I haven’t looked into it yet. I will Monday. I needed today to catch up on Crockett’s paperwork.” This time he took the hint. No joking. “That’s one of the reasons I’m calling.” “To talk about the supermarkets?” “In a way. I realize L.G. has you running ragged, and I don’t want your work for Climbing The Walls to interfere with what you need to accomplish for my

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father’s company. If Ethan asks something of you, do that first. Backburner my stuff.” “Oh?” A serious note edged his tone. Had his father or brother expressed concerns about her involvement with the due diligence? Why would they? Her reputation at the law firm was impeccable. “Especially now that Sydney might hire you,” Zach said. “Teddy, too. If they do, you’ll be busier than ever. They’re clients you can bring to L.G.’s attention, unlike me.” “Your business is still important to me, Zach.” Not because he was the hottest thing to enter her life since jalapeno jelly, either. Signing people like Teddy Wallis, with big plans and the money to achieve them, was her key to a junior partnership. However, helping small businesses held a special place in her heart. Small-business owners committed to their projects in a way most owners of large, diversified companies couldn’t. Graham Halliday was an exception. “I know my business is important to you,” Zach’s reassuring voice soothed. “Because that’s the type of lawyer you are, Tess. Someone who’ll go the extra mile for her clients. Which is why I hired you, and why I think Sydney will. Have you heard from her?” Tess smiled. “No, but I’m optimistic. She seemed comfortable with me, and she likes that I’m with Greenburg.” “Excellent. I had the same feeling.” “Thanks for introducing me to her, Zach.” “Don’t thank me yet. Save it for when Sydney calls.” “Well, connecting with Sydney van Hoyt would have much been much harder on my own, so I do want to thank you. If there’s any way I can repay you…”

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“You already have. You agreed to represent me.” “That seems to benefit me more than you.” Especially considering she hadn’t done diddly for him yet. “If there’s anything else—” “Anything?” he asked in the low, sultry manner that always sounded like he wanted to have sex. With her. She imagined a wicked grin creasing his handsome face. “As your lawyer, Zach. No funny business.” “Then I guess asking for help with my Jim Carrey impression is out?” She laughed into the phone. Oh, how she wished he’d never walked into that damn conference room. If he hadn’t, they’d still be having dinner tomorrow night—although as Jack Halloran and Tess S. Her heart ached. There was so much more to Zach Halliday than she’d ever anticipated of her studmuffin, but the promise of dating “Jack” had opened a world of erotic possibilities that had slammed shut the moment she’d discovered he was Graham Halliday’s son. Well, forty minutes after learning it, anyway. “Yes, I’m afraid your Jim Carrey impression is out,” she said. “Shoot. Now that you mention it, there’s a favor I wanted to ask.” “Name it.” “I’m revising my business plan. A fresh pair of eyes couldn’t hurt, and there’s no one else I can ask.” “What about Rob Tanaka? He knows about Climbing The Walls, and he wrote a plan for his restaurant a few months ago.” “He’s catering his cousin’s wedding tomorrow, and I need the revisions done ASAP.” “Ask him to help you Sunday.”

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“Tess.” Zach’s mellow voice tickled her ear. “Are you reneging on your offer?” She smiled. The damn man always had her smiling. “No. It just sounds fishy.” His husky laugh spiraled through her. “It’s not. I’d be lying if I said I don’t want to see you every chance I can. But if it has to be as your client, I respect that.” He’d better. She needed all the help she could muster respecting that line herself. “A business plan isn’t a static thing, Tess. Revisions are important.” He was right, of course. She curved her hair behind one ear. If he were any other client with whom she had a friendly association, she would have offered her assistance by now. And there were matters they needed to discuss before he finished the revisions. “The thing is, you can’t come to my office. If you run into Lawrence, he’ll assume we’re meeting about the Crockett’s deal. If he asks me about it…” She felt bad enough hiding the truth from her boss without outright lying. “Come by my office at Halliday, then.” “You have an office?’ He chuckled. “Yes. For the time being.” She tapped her pen on her desk. “Same problem. If Graham sees me, he might reach the same conclusions Lawrence would. Then you’d get the third degree.” “You’re too smart. But problem solved. We’ll meet outside office hours.” She held her breath. “Afraid to be alone with me, Tess?”

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She rolled her eyes. The man possessed an ego the size of Vancouver Island. He wasn’t as irresistible as he thought. “Who says we’d have to be alone?” she asked. “I don’t know about you, but I need quiet to concentrate.” “Try the library.” “I was there a few days ago, and the sign says it’s closed Sundays this summer. So if you’re willing to help me, it’s the library tomorrow.” Saturday. But when had she agreed to help him? “I can’t. I promised to visit my mom.” If she backed out now, her mother would freak. Patrice Sheridan was not fond of being ignored. “I’m on my own, then?” “I didn’t say that.” This sparring business was fun. She really needed to get back to the share certificates, though. “I’ll help with the revisions, but not tomorrow.” By the time she returned from Abbotsford, night would have fallen, and she didn’t trust herself around Zach after dark. “Sunday afternoon is best.” Plenty of daylight. “We’ll break into the library,” he whispered. She chuckled. “I don’t think so. If you’re serious about keeping the climbing center secret, we can’t risk someone catching us working on the business plan.” “I like the way you think.” She liked everything about him, but that was beside the point. “Just a lawyer looking out for her client,” she answered breezily. “Fantastic. Then you won’t object to meeting somewhere very private.”

Ethan jogged along the seawall ringing the peninsula of downtown Stanley Park. The brine-scented breeze fanned his face as sweat rolled between his

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shoulder blades and soaked his T-shirt. His arms pumped in rhythm with his heart, thigh muscles bunching and warming from an hour of intense exercise and the hot August sun. Normally, while running, he pushed away his personal worries and business concerns, and zoned out. However, on this clear Sunday morning, both his brother and the brunette from Whole Latte Lovin’ had crept into his brain. Would Zach kill him come November, when he learned about Dad’s plans and realized Ethan hadn’t told him? Shit, why should Ethan care? Zach’s slack attitude was responsible for their father’s decision. If Ethan’s brother couldn’t take a hint that something major was up, was it Ethan’s problem? Zach needed to learn to fight his own battles. Lungs burning, Ethan approached the totem-pole area beside the Brockton Oval cricket pitch. Several families with small children and cameras marveled over the colorfully painted totem poles carved from Western red cedar. Ethan bought a bottle of water from the visitor center, spent ten minutes stretching and guzzling then sacked out on the grass. Eyes closed, hands folded on his chest, face to the sun. He concentrated on nothing while the sounds of chirping birds, blurred conversation, and laughing children filled his ears. Within minutes, a tiny insect tickled his chin. He swept off the bug then sat up. Removed his shirt and turned over. With his arms angled over his head on the bristly grass and the balled shirt cushioning his face, he focused on the park’s scents and sounds anew. Hopefully, he’d catch a nap. No such luck. Thoughts of his brother drifted away, but fantasies of the brunette quickly replaced them. Were they on his bed, Ethan lying prone like he was now, she might straddle his ass, her bare thighs cradling his hips and her

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hands plying his tight shoulders. Once his muscles had relaxed, he’d flip her over, catch her breasts in his palms, and draw a nipple into his mouth. However, considering the woman fled whenever he saw her, his fantasy stood zero chances of coming true. And if he continued with the arousing daydream, he’d have to kiss the grass all day—because he wouldn’t be able to turn over. Damn it, he couldn’t even find stress relief lazing in the summer sun! His mind refused to shut off. And the back of his neck prickled as if somebody watched him. He’d experienced the same sensation earlier this week in Whole Latte Lovin’. He slit open one eye. Millimeters from his nose, the empty water bottle on the grass partially obscured his view of a woman several meters away holding a dark green bike. He glimpsed chin-length, dark brown hair escaping her blue helmet. The brunette. Looking at him. Or, if the direction of her gaze were to be trusted, staring at his ass. Lifting his head, he waved. “Hi.” Her hands sprang free of the bike, eyes widening as her transportation crashed to the ground. Ethan pushed off the grass. “I’ll help you.” He tugged on his shirt. “It’s okay.” She grabbed the bike and slung one toned leg over the frame. “Wait!” He grabbed his water. “I want to talk to—” She wheeled off as if the stench of his exercise-generated sweat had reached out and physically choked her. “Hey!” “Sorry, I’m late!” She cycled toward the seawall faster than his tired legs could run.

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What the fuck? Ignoring the gawking teenagers, Ethan stomped to the visitor center and stuffed the empty bottle into a recycling barrel. What sort of woman stared at a guy until he made eye contact and then she took off? The same type of woman who’s avoided you for weeks. Shit. The smart-aleck comments and quick smile he’d admired since first meeting her had disappeared beneath this bewildering behavior. Clearly, she was a head case. And he didn’t need more aggravation in his life. Well, she wouldn’t have to worry about avoiding him any longer. Because he wouldn’t drop into Whole Latte Lovin’ again.

Zach glanced around the comfortably furnished living room. This was where prissy Teresa Sheridan transformed into sexy Tess S., huh? The overstuffed chesterfield set and age-mellowed hardwood floors suited her more than he would have guessed. As did the botanical prints and standing birdcage, a blue budgie ensconced within. Lunch for Lump. The fancy coffee tables and contemporary dining table didn’t fit with her other furniture, though. Both reminded him of her uptight-lawyer façade. Her place was a contradiction—like her. Part who she was and part a reflection of who she thought she should be. He was all too familiar with the latter experience, courtesy of his wellintentioned father. She gestured toward the big couch. “We can work here or at the kitchen table.”

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“The living room is fine.” Battered briefcase in hand, Zach trailed her to the sofa. Her gray sweatpants accentuated the sweet contours of her ass. She wore a ribbed tank top tucked into the drawstring pants and tan moccasins on bare feet. She probably thought the lazy-day getup appeared disheveled and unattractive, but she looked incredibly soft and alluring, unpretentiously sexy and desirable. He’d never seen her hair unrestricted by pins or elastics before, and the strawberry-blonde waves framing her face added to the effect. Whether she realized it or not, Tess was a woman made for sun-streaked mornings and rumpled sheets, for leisurely, seductive loving. He’d start from her toes and work his way up, lavishing attention on every inch of her body. Tough job, but someone had to do it. The thought of any other man bringing her to orgasm when he was so willing didn’t seem right. Sexual need pushed through him, beginning an inevitable hardening of his cock. He fixated on an unappealing visual of high snowdrifts packed with ice shards before sitting beside her on the couch, a half-cushion space between them. Ignoring the twinge of discomfort in his jeans, he placed the briefcase on the coffee table. The budgie in the cage chirped. “Did you have a nice visit with your mother?” he asked as he popped open the briefcase. Benign conversation would deflate his partial erection. “It went okay. My mother isn’t in a happy place right now. She needs a lot of attention.” “It’s wonderful you’re so supportive. Mothers are special.” His own mother had never failed to encourage him to follow his dreams. Sixteen years after her death, he still missed her. And continued to feel her influence. Succeeding their father at Halliday Enterprises might be Ethan’s dream, but it wasn’t Zach’s. His mother had died at forty-one. Turning thirty last November had kicked Zach

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into realizing he needed to stop biding his time. That if he died young, too, he’d have nothing of his own to leave behind. His only regret was that leaving Halliday would hurt and disappoint his father. “How about you?” Tess asked. “Did you work on the revisions yesterday?” “Not until late.” He pulled papers and pencils from the briefcase then set the business plan on his lap, which had calmed down. “I went climbing near Squamish with Blake.” He’d thought the physical activity would prevent him from obsessing about Tess. It hadn’t worked very well. Since meeting her, nothing had worked. He didn’t even care to look at another woman right now. That was totally unlike him. She bestowed a businesslike smile. “Let’s get down to it, then.” She glanced at his lap. “How long is it?” “How long is what?” A blush singed her freckles. “The business plan!” He laughed. “Twenty pages.” He handed her the executive summary and fact sheet. “I’d like the incorporation filed this week and the lease finalized as quickly as possible. With so many climbing walls to construct, there’s a lot of renovation work to do.” “You’re certain you want to incorporate?” she asked, perusing the summary. “Yes.” Her perfume drifted to him, the lightest hint of violets. “Why wouldn’t I be?” She picked up a mechanical pencil and rubbed her thumb over the slim barrel. What he wouldn’t give to be that pencil. But thicker. Definitely thicker. A lot thicker. While he was at it, longer, too.

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“Incorporation isn’t your only option,” Tess replied in her soft, angel-vixen voice. “A sole proprietorship is inexpensive to set up and easier to terminate.” “I don’t care about wham-bam termination. I’m committed to Climbing The Walls.” Especially in the middle of the night, when he damn near went crazy from wanting her. “But if the business isn’t as successful as you hope—” “It will be.” Nodding, she rubbed the pencil again. The woman had no clue what the simple mannerism communicated. “You’re sure, and that’s great,” she said. “Incorporation has several benefits, especially if the business grows quickly. Legally, a corporation is regarded as a person, so it can own property, there’s limited liability and opportunities for tax deferrals. Once the center has a track record, it’ll be easier to arrange financing than it would with a proprietorship.” “Incorporation is the way I want to go, then.” Thanks to his commerce degree and his background with his father’s company, he realized the pros and cons of both choices. However, he appreciated her thorough approach. “To my way of thinking, incorporation cements a business in a way a proprietorship doesn’t. It’s like living together compared to getting married.” A quickie versus long, slow, hot sex. Christ, could he think of nothing else? He wished she’d put down the damn pencil. Her thumb stopped moving. However, when she positioned the pencil between her fingers, the eraser tip pointed to her parted lips. If she nibbled the tip, he’d explode. “Good analogy.” She reached for a photography book on the coffee table. Using the volume as a surface, she jotted notes on the back of the summary.

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“Taking it one step further, if incorporating is like getting married, the grand opening is the reception—” “And the tax advantages are the presents.” “Exactly.” She smiled. “The development of the business after the opening is similar to nurturing a baby, like you said Monday. You’re very creative, you know that?” Like how. In ways she’d never imagine. Or maybe she would. Maybe, like him, she wore her poker face and at this moment envisioned how perfect they’d be together. After all, Tess S. couldn’t only fantasize about sex in the bathtub. On the other hand, Teresa Sheridan was on a lawyerly roll. “Knowing how you feel about incorporating, you might want to rethink the lease,” she said. “Why? Do you anticipate a problem with the zoning?” “No. There are several commercial enterprises sprouting up in that area. I’m sure the zoning is fine. You could lease for the time being, to lighten the financial burden and in case the business doesn’t pan out. However, have you considered approaching the owner about taking out an option to buy? Many investors believe that particular neighborhood is ripe for speculation. You could make a killing in a year or two.” “I’m not interested in speculating, Tess. I’ll be there for the long haul.” “Never say never. With the option, you’d have a choice.” “True. But if we return to the marriage analogy, taking out an option to buy implies a deeper commitment to the business and community.” “I see what you’re getting at. Your good will and determination will trickle down to your employees. If they respect you, they’ll work harder, and Climbing The Walls will succeed.”

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“Maybe I’ll even impress the old man. As long as he doesn’t offer to buy the place as a result, that wouldn’t be so bad.” He nodded. “It’s a good idea. I like it. Yeah, let’s approach the owner about an option.” She scribbled another note on the summary. As he passed her the bulk of the business plan, the phone on a side table rang. The budgie chirped shrilly. “Buddy, it’s okay,” Tess cooed to the bird. She explained to Zach, “It’s a new phone. He doesn’t like the ring.” “A new phone?” Since before or after they’d verbally bonded? Her gaze met his, a light blush dusting her cheeks. The phone rang again. “I should get it.” She put down the book and summary. “It’s probably my mom or one of my sisters. We’re planning a family dinner this week.” “Feel free.” Zach retrieved the papers and concealed his lap. Like Pavlov’s dog, his body had responded the instant the phone rang. Only he wasn’t salivating. Tess picked up the receiver and checked the caller ID. “It is my mother,” she whispered in the moment before she clicked Talk. “Hi, Mom.” “I’ll go to the can,” Zach whispered back. Her anxious look relayed she preferred privacy while speaking with her mother. And he could use the solitude to talk sense into his sex drive. A woman hadn’t affected him to this extent since he was sixteen. Tess covered the mouthpiece. “Thanks.” She indicated a door, and he escaped into the bathroom. The light walls and chrome fixtures were similar to what he’d imagined, apart from the pale yellow towels. Those he’d pictured sex-siren red. He parted the shower curtain. The legendary bathtub. His cock bucked.

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Images of an aroused Tess relaxing in hot water swarmed his mind, her nipples peaked, her pussy glistening with desire for his voice on the other end of the phone. His erection throbbed. He could unzip, jerk one off into the sink. Rinse away the evidence and return to the living room prepared to focus on business. And he might if he were some horny university kid. But he was thirty—he had self-control. Not to mention that Tess was on the phone with her mother. Get a grip, Halliday. Wrong choice of words. Images of Tess gripping him, sucking him, saturated his lust-hazed brain. Groaning, he dropped the shower curtain. Not even visualizing the iceberg that had sunk the Titanic could help him now.

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Chapter Nine

“I think we’ve covered all the bases, Zach. Is there anything else that concerns you?” Setting her pencil on the edited business plan, Tess reached for a final slice of Thai chicken pizza. After working in the living room for two hours, they’d both developed kinks in their necks and rumbling bellies, so had ordered an early supper and moved to the dining table. In the time it had taken her to eat two pizza slices, Zach had consumed five thick wedges of his Meat-Eater Special. Where did he put it all? Judging by the snug fit of the sage-green T-shirt hugging his muscular torso, the man possessed zero body fat. His tanned throat worked as he swallowed a mouthful of his sixth slice. “Nope, we’re done.” He indicated the open Marco’s Pizza boxes. “Great stuff. How’d you find this place?” Tess plucked a bean sprout off her plate. A soft-rock radio station played quietly from the living room. She’d tuned in the music, hoping the mellow notes would deflect the potent male energy emanating from Zach—a failed experiment. Twenty minutes ago, she’d donned a cardigan to prevent her nipples from puckering beneath her white tank top every time his arm brushed hers or their knees bumped while they worked. She nibbled the bean sprout. “Chloe dated the owner for a couple of months last year. Marco was having problems with a supplier, but he couldn’t afford to litigate, so I represented him pro bono. Then his business took off, and he decided to expand—and pay me.”

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“It doesn’t bother Chloe that Marco’s still your client?” “No. She’s not petty. It wasn’t a bad split-up, and they remained friends.” Zach nodded. “Do you do a lot of pro bono work?” He chose a stray bean sprout from her pizza box and placed it on Buddy’s saucer. She’d let the budgie out of his cage earlier, and the little bird perched on a tall play platform to Zach’s left. “Not as much as I’d like.” She smiled as Buddy pecked the sprout. “Lawrence doesn’t mind the freebies, but pro bono clients don’t impress him the way paying clients do. Especially the clients who can afford to pay a lot.” “Like Teddy Wallis.” “Yes.” The van Hoyt art galleries would put a feather in her cap, but securing Teddy’s proposed land development venture could earn her an entire headdress. If she worked hard, she’d nab both accounts and her career at Greenburg would flourish. Zach’s coffee-colored gaze moved over her face. “You prefer the pro bono stuff, though, don’t you? And representing small businesses like Marco’s.” “Um.” His intensity and nearness worked their usual tingling magic on her nipples. Trying to be inconspicuous about it, she tugged her unbuttoned sweater more fully over her breasts. For good measure, she hunched forward slightly. “You should take on more little guys, then.” Zach’s gaze never left her face, thank God. “That’s where you seem to shine.” “I love working for conglomerates.” “Uh-huh.” Obviously, he didn’t believe her. Maybe she’d overstated her enthusiasm, but she wouldn’t admit it.

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“I do,” she insisted, returning her attention to her pizza. She’d be shortsighted not to appreciate the financial independence a junior partnership at Greenburg promised. Assuming greater responsibilities with the firm’s top corporate clients would help get her there. Taking on more small-business clients and pro bono cases wouldn’t. She tamped down the regret rising within her. If she were honest, there were days she preferred working with small-business owners like Marco—like Zach— but she needed to focus on the big picture. She wanted control of every facet of her life. Her finances and career, her emotions and sexuality. If she relaxed in one area, would she slide backward in another? Typically, just visiting her mother yesterday had made her think so. Her mother still clung to the archaic notion that her husband should fulfill all her needs. Plus, her parents had married for the wrong reasons—her mom had been pregnant with Tess. The young Patrice, infatuated with her new husband, had poured herself into making a perfect home and family, as if convinced the surface gloss would transform his honest affection into passionate love. In the process, her mother had lost herself, if she’d ever known who she was to begin with. Now Mom was miserable. So was Dad. Tess definitely did not want to follow her mother’s example. Not in any way, shape or form. That she’d come close a couple of times was bad enough. She picked up her Diet Coke. “Zach, has your father or Ethan expressed concerns about having me on the Crockett’s team?” she asked. His pupils contracted. If they weren’t sitting close together, she might not have noticed. “Ethan knows you’re the right person,” he responded gruffly. “My father does, too. You’re L.G.’s protégée, and Dad would trust L.G. with his life.”

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She released a breath. “Thank you.” She sipped Diet Coke, the can cool on her fingers. Sarah McLachlan’s haunting voice drifted from the radio. “Sorry if it sounded like I was fishing, but when you said I should take on more smallbusiness clients, I wondered if someone at Halliday thinks I don’t suit corporate work.” “Not a problem.” The subtle shadows in his gaze lifted. “Only a woman could read so much into a simple compliment. It’s all in the eyes, Tess.” His voice lowered. “Your beautiful, big blue eyes. They light up when you talk about your pro bono work, but when you mention Crockett’s, they glaze over.” “They do not!” “Yes, they do.” She’d have to work on that, then. “That’s ridiculous. I like working on the acquisition. It’s a heavy load, so it can be wearing. But that doesn’t mean I don’t like it, Zach.” His eyebrows bobbed. “Whatever gets you through the night.” He offered Buddy another bean sprout. The budgie chirped merrily, fluffed his feathers and pecked the treat. Watching the pair interact provided Tess with a much-needed distraction. If Zach could tell by her eyes that she had a soft spot for helping small businesses, any hope he’d missed the high beams blatantly advertising her lust for him was so lost. “You’re good with him,” she said. “Do you have pets?” “One. A huge, hairy cat named Lump.” She smiled. “I know what you’re thinking. A single guy with a cat? That’s just not right.” “I wasn’t thinking that.” She sipped her Diet Coke.

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“It’s okay if you were. In fact, you should feel special. I don’t reveal my dirty, dark secrets to every woman I meet. Lump was a stray, skinny and starving, when I found him. My mother always told me to be nice to old ladies and animals, so I took him in.” “That’s sweet.” You’re sweet. Sexy. Kind. Incredibly hot. Like Chloe had said, Zach was a keeper. Too bad Tess wasn’t in the market. “Sweet?” He shot her a you’re-killing-me look. “Well then, let me assure you, Tess, I like my pussy.” She laughed. “I can’t believe you said that!” She plunked the pop can on the table. Diet Coke spurted from the opening. “Cat,” he added with a grin. “I like my pussycat. Really, Teresa, you shock me. You shouldn’t jump to conclusions.” Too late. Her body had already jumped to erotic conclusions of its own. Her nipples stiffened beneath her sweater and top, the sizzle of Zach’s words scorching her between her legs. “Yeah right. You knew exactly what I’d think.” “Amazing how we’re so connected,” he murmured. His lazy smile warmed her from deep inside, until she couldn’t tell where her physical attraction to the studmuffin ended and where her admiration for Zach Halliday, the genuine, caring man, began. Hoo-boy. Major trouble. Why did she have to like him so damn much? The telephone rang. She followed his gaze to the living room, where the cordless sat. “You’re popular this afternoon,” he said. “That’s the fourth time somebody’s called.”

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“Fifth.” Her mom, one sister, and two telemarketers. “I don’t have to answer it.” “I don’t mind. I’m not ducking into the can again, though. I’ve been in there so many times today, I’m cured.” “Of what?” “The effect of ringing telephones,” he half-whispered, his voice as husky and smooth as fine, aged whiskey. Her body thrummed with his mesmerizing nearness. Vivid memories of their sexy telephone escapade filled her mind. Oh boy. Oh boyo-boyo. Mama’s hungry. “The machine can run.” She glanced at his briefcase. “We should gather up your stuff so you can go.” “Kicking me out?” You bet. Experimenting with spontaneous combustion wasn’t on her Sunday to-do list. The machine answered on the fourth ring, and the short message played. “Hey, Tess,” Chloe’s voice announced. “Where are you? Oh well. That’s never stopped me before.” “Nope.” Tess grinned. “Guess what?” Chloe’s voice asked above the radio. “What?” Zach replied toward the empty living room. “I saw The Suit in Stanley Park today.” Chloe’s sigh of womanly admiration issued from the answering machine’s speaker. “Only he wasn’t dressed like a banker for once.” “The Suit?” Zach asked Tess.

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“Some guy who comes into the coffeehouse. Chloe thinks he’s cute, but she’s not into corporate types, so she worships him from afar.” Tess’s legs twitched with the urge to move. She might want to answer the phone, after all. When Chloe lusted for a man, she could drone on and on about his…assets until the recording tape ran out. “In fact, I have a new name for him.” A trace of uncertainty wavered beneath Chloe’s customary bravado. “Are you ready? The Shorts. Mm-mm. You should have seen that butt.” Tess pushed back her chair. Definite asset territory. “No, don’t.” Zach remained seated, his quiet laughter following her into the living room. “I want to hear this.” “Sorry. Best-friend privileges.” “Anyway, enough about me,” Chloe said. “I’m calling for an update.” Shit! Tess strode briskly to the phone, moccasins slapping like waves on rocks as they connected with hardwood. “Have you heard from your stud—” Tess cut off the answering machine. Lungs squeezing, she looked at Zach. “Smooth. Just when she was about to reveal the good stuff.” “I’ll be quick,” she whispered. “I’ll gather up my things so you can kick me out when you’re done.” “Thanks.” She moved to the window, her back to his penetrating gaze. She hissed into the phone, “It’s not a good time.” “You’re home?” Chloe’s voice reverberated in her ear. “Why didn’t you pick up?” “I’m busy.” “Doing what?” “Stuff.” Their code for Man Present, Stop Annoying Me.

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“Stuff,” Chloe parroted. “Omigod, you mean Zach? He’s there?” Her hoot of excitement could have shattered crystal. “Stuff, Chloe. Stuff.” “Oh, Tess, I love living vicariously through you! I guess this means the timeline has begun, huh?” Tess shot a glance to Zach. With his head bowed over the papers, he appeared absorbed with the business-plan revisions. He flipped a page. Turning her back on him again, Tess whispered into the phone, “What timeline?” Yesterday, Chloe had confessed her Yaletown surveillance of The Suit. Tess should mock her about that, but right now self-preservation took precedence over their twenty-year tradition of one-upping each other. “Six weeks, ditz. When should we start counting? The day you met Studly, the day of your first date, or the day of first sexual contact?” “What do you mean?” Tess mumbled through barely moving lips. “Your first kiss, at Whole Latte Lovin’. Come to think of it, that was also your first date. Or your half-date, as I remember. Anyway, it’s probably the best place to start, considering today counts as your second date.” “Whatever.” “Wow, you’re amazingly agreeable about this. Should I worry?” “Not at all. I’m very happy to…to…” Tess’s mind blanked on plausible codes. “Have wild sex with Zach Halliday over the next five and a half weeks?” Chloe chuckled. “I don’t blame you. Although, no offense, I prefer The Shorts.” Bonus. Because there wasn’t enough kink in her fantasy life for herself, Zach and Chloe.

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Needing to look at him—oh, for no particular reason, like, say, the fact that he was so gorgeous—Tess peeked in his direction. He stood and snapped shut his briefcase with those large, thick-fingered hands. Very nice. A fluttery sensation moved through her. She turned to the window. “Chloe, I have to go.” “Okay, quickly, six weeks from last Thursday takes us to the end of September, but I don’t have a calendar handy for specific dates. Just make sure you have masses of wild sex—” “I’m hanging up now.” “—and be thankful I didn’t ask you to start counting from the night you met him. You’d miss eight days.” “My thumb’s on the disconnect button.” Chloe’s laugh carried over the line. “How close is he to you?” Good question. Tess turned again. Zach crossed the living room, carrying his briefcase. “Goodbye, Chloe.” Tess hung up. The fiend wouldn’t dare call back now that she’d provided the update. “Pretty quick on the draw there.” Zach’s gaze held hers. “Talking about me?” “You wish.” “Can’t deny that. I’m ready to get kicked out now.” Tess nodded as chilling loss filled her. She’d really enjoyed his company this afternoon. His quick wit kept her on her toes and his easy charm was addictive, as was her perpetual state of high-beam arousal.

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“Are you going to the art show Friday?” She walked him to the door. Sydney van Hoyt had invited them both to the opening of a new show at van Hoyt’s Downtown. “I wasn’t planning to. I have an early climb Saturday. But if you want me there as your date—” “Zach, you know we can’t.” “I know you think we can’t.” “Same diff.” His smile was infinitely patient. “You going?” “I haven’t decided. If Sydney retains legal counsel before then, I’ll go.” “You might want to attend regardless. Seeing you again could push her into a decision.” Tess nodded. “She said she’d let me know by Wednesday. If her answer is no, I might put in an appearance to show there are no hard feelings. But I doubt I’d stay long.” “Sounds like we’re both undecided.” However, his low tone implied that only she was. He half-turned, his large hand resting on the doorknob. Then he released the door and faced her again. “I can’t leave yet.” “Did you forget something?” “Yeah, the not knowing.” His gaze zeroed in on hers, and her breasts tingled. “The not knowing what?” she asked. “How good it could be between us.” This again? Her inner nympho could only take so much. “Zach, I told you—”

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“I know you did, but humor me.” Sensual strain tightened his voice. He put down the briefcase. “I need to kiss you.” Oh goodie. Tess gave the inner nympho a mental swat. “We already tried that at the coffeehouse.” “No, I mean I need to really kiss you. It’s the not knowing that’s killing me. If I knew what it could be like between us, there’s a chance I could move on.” Typical male thinking. She wasn’t even insulted. “You’re saying kissing me would help you lose interest?” “I doubt that, but at least I’d know what I’d be missing.” “From one kiss?” “It’s a taste.” “Of what you would be missing.” He nodded. “It’ll be easier to put you out of my mind if I knew what I was giving up.” “What happened in my office on Monday didn’t tell you that?” “I didn’t taste you Monday, Tess. Although I sure as hell wanted to.” His eyes gleamed, and her nipples peaked. “Zach.” “Tess.” Well, all right. If it meant helping him move past the hurdle of their attraction, she supposed one kiss couldn’t hurt. She’d consider it an act of charity. Completely selfless. Even noble. “Okay,” she said casually. He grinned like a kid at Christmas. Her pulse tripped. “Time’s a-wasting, Halliday. Are you going to kiss me or not?” That was all the encouragement he needed. In two steps, he breached the space between them, his hands curving around her upper arms as his mouth

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settled over hers. His lips exerted a light pressure, moving tenderly, even sweetly, and she relaxed beneath the gentle ministration. Hah, this wasn’t so tough. And here, since their half-kiss at the coffeehouse, she’d thought she couldn’t survive another oral encounter without attacking him. “Mmm.” The sultry moan issued from deep within his throat and rushed an intoxicating medley of sensations to her mouth. His lips parted, and her own with them. No problem. She could still deal. His hands glided to her waist, coaxing her closer. Not wanting to come across like a wooden puppet, she wrapped her arms around his broad shoulders. A mistake. The movement melded them pelvis to abdomen, Zach’s rigid erection—as thick as she’d imagined—pressing her tummy through her yoga pants. What was worse, he seemed to interpret her embrace as an invitation. His hands cupped her butt, shifting her up, nearer, closer, until her mound nestled against his impressive bulge. Worse yet, she couldn’t persuade herself to summon the will to resist him. She wanted more. She wanted him. Everything he could give her. Reason scattered as her long-buried wild streak begged to surface. As if deciphering her body’s responses was as natural to him as breathing, he dipped his tongue into her mouth. Dallied, withdrew, thrust deeper. Brazen arousal spun through her, more molten and vibrant than she’d ever experienced. Her nipples rasped pleasurably against her bra, prompting images of his hands on her breasts, his fingers plucking the taut peaks, mouth sucking. Desire and need plunged to her clit as she abandoned herself to the incredible sensations their mating mouths inspired.

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To hell with blaming her lust for Zach Halliday on the inner nympho. This was her body. She was in charge of her pleasure. Tess Sheridan was assuming control. And taking what she wanted.

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Chapter Ten

Moaning softly into his mouth, Tess raised on tiptoe, seeking increased contact there, where she craved him. His shoulder muscles bunched beneath her palms, and he lowered his hips to meet hers again. He fit them together as if they were horizontal. Tension built in her clit. She pressed herself against his thick length. She breathed in his male heat, tasting his need for her on his tongue. Wanting, yearning, needing. Needing him. Himhimhim. Zach. Now. Yes. Just once. That was all she asked. She was so tired of holding back. She wanted to live, to feel and experience. To put her mind and goals on the backburner for a few precious hours and luxuriate in what this sexy, thrilling man had to offer. He slid a hand down her thigh and hooked her leg onto his hip. She didn’t resist. The toes of her left foot strained to touch the floor. Supporting her rear with both hands, he lifted her. She curled her legs around his waist. Her right moccasin fell off. Cradling her rear, he turned them. He propped her spine against the door— like in her office window fantasy, only the reality felt ten million times more amazing. With his big cock solid beneath his jeans, his hands caressing her ass, and his tongue delving into her mouth, pleasure stormed her body. Her clit pulsed and her labia thickened. Her juices soaked her panties.

A Little Wild

He massaged her through the yoga pants. As his fingers stroked her wetness, he groaned. He broke the kiss, muttering, “Couch.” She nodded. Her legs wrapped around him, he carried her to the sofa and laid her against the plump cushions. Wanting his mouth again, she unhooked her legs and reached for him. “Shh,” he whispered. Slipping a hand under her tank top, he cupped one breast. His fingers zeroed in on her nipple, and her breathing quickened. His other hand caressed her through her pants, his face so close their foreheads almost touched. Yet, still he did not kiss her. She lifted her lips to his. With a teasing smile, he evaded her kiss. Hot desire gripped her. “Kiss me, damn it,” she whispered. “Let me kiss you.” She urged his head down. This time, he gave her what she wanted. Their tongues thrust in a sensual rhythm as they kissed deeper and deeper. Her juices saturated her pants, and she tugged on the drawstring bow. Either Zach wasn’t as intelligent as she’d assumed or he was intent on torturing her— because he wouldn’t take the hint. She clasped his hand and struggled to move it toward her waistband, but he held fast. His fingers gripped her mound with erotic intensity. For an instant, she thought one might tear through the thin fabric of her yoga pants and enter her. No such luck. She pushed her hands between their bodies and unzipped his jeans. As she shoved down the denim, his naked erection filled her palms. Her pulse revved. He did have the largest cock she’d ever touched. Thick, long, hard.

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And all for her. She pumped her hand up and down his stiff length. Moisture seeped from the swollen head, and he moaned. “God, Tess, you feel amazing.” She pumped faster. “I want you inside me. That will feel amazing.” “No condoms,” he mumbled. She swore. “I don’t have any, either.” Celibacy had its shortcomings. “It’s for the best.” “Says who?” He chuckled. “You did.” Her breath caught. All right, maybe she had mentioned something along those lines. However, right now, while his fingers mercilessly teased her— He grunted. “Get your hand off me, babe. Or I’ll come.” “I want you to.” He gazed down at her. “I don’t.” Grabbing her wrists, he pinned her arms above her head on the couch. Her excitement soared. His hips rocked faster and faster as he fucked her outside her clothes. His cock slid back and forth, his pelvis grinding. Rapturous spasms washed over her, and she came. As the last ripple pulsed through her, his hips stilled. Her breathing slowed. She smoothed the soft cotton T-shirt covering his spine. “Zach, you can keep going. Tissues are on the end table.” He shook his head. “If I climax, we’ll cross a line.” “I want to cross it.” “I believe you—now. But how will you feel tomorrow?” He released her wrists. Moving off the couch, he stood and tucked his erection inside his jeans. “I won’t be a regret for you, Tess. I can wait.” He zipped up.

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She propped on her elbows. “For what?” “Until you’re one hundred percent certain that sleeping with me is what you want. And, babe? That’s not a decision to make when you’ve just come.” She bit her lip. He was right. Having sex with him would change everything, and consider what was at stake—the ethics her job demanded, the development of his business. She’d come so close to doing what she wanted, forget the consequences. However, apparently Zach Halliday knew her better than she knew herself. She forced a smile. “All I can say is you’re a hell of a kisser.” He chuckled. “You, too.” As she stood, her bare foot met hardwood. She tugged off the other moccasin and followed Zach to the door. He picked up his briefcase. “Thanks for helping with the revisions.” “You’re welcome.” They’d regressed to polite chitchat. Awkward. “I’ll expect a call about the lease arrangements.” “And after I’ve filed the incorporation.” “Great. Stay in touch.” A quick goodbye, and he left. Tess leaned against the closed door. What the hell had just happened? Zach had asked for one kiss, and she’d responded to the heat of his embrace as if she hadn’t been touched in a decade. She’d remained celibate for extended lengths of time before and not responded to her first openmouthed kiss with a man the way she had with Zach. Three years had elapsed between Kyle and Warren. Sure, she’d lusted after Warren in the beginning, but not like this. Never, ever like this. What did it mean that only Zach Halliday affected her so deeply?

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She closed her eyes. No. She wouldn’t think about it, couldn’t bear to entertain the notion that she might be falling for him. The answer was simple. Zach was different, because Zach was incredible. Surprising, tempting and amazingly sexy, he was the star of all her X-rated fantasies. For now and several months to come. Picturing his talented mouth aroused her all over again. She’d probably burn up the sheets tonight, dreaming about him. Had that been his intention? To prove their sexual compatibility, then leave her yearning for more? She shoved off the door and ran her hands through her hair. He’d kept her on sensual tenterhooks throughout the afternoon with his teasing glances, innuendos and pure proximity, then had lured her into a mesmerizing dry hump that had left her desperate to feel him inside her. All revved up and no Zach to share it with. Just when Mr. G. Spot had run out of batteries, too.

Crud, no milk. Shutting the fridge door, Chloe gazed at the Cheerios box on the counter of her tiny West End apartment. No tasty cereal for her on this lonely Sunday evening. She could snack on dry O’s, but after her mortifying experience with The Suit in Stanley Park this morning, she craved a massive, milk-sodden bowl of her favorite poor-me indulgence. There was nothing to do but dash to the nearest grocer. Because not even phoning Tess and learning her friend was pursuing their bet had pulled Chloe out of her post-Suit-sighting funk. Running from him in Stanley Park had been

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beyond dumb. Chloe hadn’t been late for anything. She was just too chickenshit to talk to him, so she’d acted like a skittish schoolgirl. The latter adjectives never applied to Chloe Nichols! Take-no-prisoners aggressive, that was her. Except when it came to The Suit. It was like she’d time-traveled back to grade five and Donnie McDowell had presented her with a homemade Valentine. She hadn’t spoken to the poor kid for three weeks afterward. The idea that the boy she’d loved might return her feelings had been too much for her eleven-year-old self to handle. Was she really such an insecure mess beneath her wise-ass behavior? Shaking her head, she grabbed her purse and headed for the elevator. Both the milk and the short walk to buy it would do her good. Minutes later, she paid for her purchase at the grocer’s. As she left the store, the warm breeze flitted over her T-shirt and shorts. A splash of color in the sidewalk bins caught her eye, and she stopped to admire the beautiful mauve tulips. A man with curly dark hair studied the rose arrangements. “Marco?” Two encounters with her old boyfriend in less than a week. Was the universe sending her a message? Marco’s teeth flashed in the mellow evening sun. “Hi, Chloe. How’s it going?” Like she’d tell him. He’d never believe her cowardice with The Suit. During their relationship, she’d been the hunter. “Great,” she lied. Gaze skeptical, he nodded at her armload. “What’s with the huge milk jug?” “I’m thirsty.” “You don’t drink milk unless you’re on a cereal binge. Must be guy trouble.”

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She rolled out a brazen-sounding laugh. “You know me, Marco, I never have guy trouble.” Kind of hard to reach the trouble part when she lacked the basic ingredient of a guy. “You sure? You helped me with Amy. I’d like to return the favor.” “I don’t need advice. I’m not even dating right now.” “Maybe that’s the problem.” He returned his attention to the roses. Chloe shifted the milk jug to her other hip. Subject change! “Choosing flowers for her?” “Yeah.” Contentment rimmed his Mediterranean features. “How did things go the other day?” “Amazing. I was honest, like you suggested. Explained the reason I’ve acted so distant lately had nothing to do with her. It was all me and my stupid fear of commitment. But tonight I’m telling her I love her. I think this is the real thing, Chloe.” “I’m glad.” A strange sadness trickled through her. He selected a small bouquet of red tea roses. “Red signifies love, right?” “Yes, but roses are a common choice. Is Amy The One for you, Marco?” “Definitely.” “Then you have the rest of your lives to tell her how you feel with roses. This first time, try something unexpected.” A thoughtful frown creased his handsome face. “Like what?” “Amy is blonde and cheerful. Choose flowers that reflect her personality.” He glanced at an adjacent bin. “At first my eye was drawn to these.” An assortment of white, yellow and vibrantly hued gerbera daisies. “Perfect.” “They’re not too ordinary? I want to make a good impression.”

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“Buy Amy flowers that show her how much thought you put into choosing them and you’ll make a great impression, Marco. Count on it.” He put back the roses and talked enthusiastically with his hands. “Yellow for the sunshine she brings into my life, white for her dazzling smile…and these…” His fingers brushed a packet of deep violet and fuchsia gerberas. “Amy wears bright dresses in similar colors.” Chloe squeezed his hand. “Now you’ve got it.” He selected two daisy packets and held them up beside his wide smile. “What do you say? Will she love me forever?” Tears pricked Chloe’s eyes. Not because she still had a thing for Marco—her assertiveness and his traditional edge had equaled mondo relationship disaster— but because she suddenly knew he and Amy would make it. “Oh yeah. Go get her, big guy.” Marco ambled into the grocer’s to pay for the flowers, and Chloe rounded the corner to her apartment. If she had any sense, she’d abandon her ridiculous no-dating oath and jump back into the game before all the good guys were taken.

“I think your father’s having an affair,” Tess’s mom said as the older woman placed two Santa Fe-patterned plates in the distressed-pine cupboard. Patrice Sheridan accepted a coffee cup from Jenna, who helped Tess dry dinner dishes while Randi washed. Tess exchanged guarded glances with her two younger sisters. “Having an affair” was Mom-lingo for “I feel ignored”.

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“What’s Dad done this time?” Randi asked. Golden highlights brightened her light brown hair—the same shade as their father’s. What was left of his, anyway. Tess and Jenna had inherited their strawberry-blonde tones from Mom. “It’s what he hasn’t done, dear.” Complaint rather than hurt edged their mother’s voice. “He hasn’t touched me in months.” Oh brother. Tess held her breath. Another evening of hearing about their parents’ substandard love lives? What had happened to good old-fashioned Catholic pretense that sex didn’t exist? Usually, Tess could handle her mother’s bouts of neediness. However, her family didn’t often meet midweek, and at dinner her father had announced their celebration of Tess’s success with Sydney van Hoyt. Yet, tension—not joy—had permeated the evening, her mother bemoaning everything from the aggravation of the dishwasher repairs, to that their father spent too much time at the office, to how she wanted to travel to Italy next spring, but he was balking. After dessert, Dad had escaped to the den. Tess couldn’t blame him. While she realized her mother was upset, her mother was always upset, and the more Mom harped about Dad’s deficiencies, the longer he stayed glued to the TV. Jenna passed their mother another dried coffee cup. “Plenty of married couples go through dry spells, Mom. That doesn’t mean he’s having an affair.” Mom harrumphed. “There was a time he couldn’t keep his hands off me.” Tess mumbled, “A few years have passed.” “Your Aunt Jane and Uncle Howie still make love every Tuesday.” Go Aunt Jane. “Maybe Aunt Jane is exaggerating.” Her mom and aunt were fierce competitors. Randi rinsed the last plate and passed it to Tess for drying. “Mom, you should talk to Dad. If you honestly believe something’s wrong, ask him.”

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Their mother produced a long-suffering sigh. “It would make no difference, Miranda. Nothing ever changes.” She took the last plate from Tess and put it away. The cupboard door swung closed. “I need to fold laundry. You girls stay here and catch up.” “I’ll come with you.” Tess patted her mom’s shoulder. Difficult though her mother was at times, she loved her and wanted to help her. “No, Tessie, stay with your sisters. I’m sorry, girls. I shouldn’t burden you. Your father and I were crazy about each other once. I just want his attention. Is that too much to ask?” Tess and her sisters knew better than to answer. Over the years, it had become painfully apparent that no matter how much affection their father displayed, their mother craved more. Their unhappy mother left the kitchen. Her footfalls padded downstairs to the laundry. Randi drained the sink while Jenna retrieved the cookies. All three sisters sat at the Mexican-pine table. They looked at each other, then at the unopened Oreo package, then at each other again. Finally, Randi said, “Maybe it’s true this time.” Jenna shook her head. “I don’t believe it.” “It’s not like it hasn’t happened before. Granted, we’re talking way before. How long has it been since Dad’s sicko friendship with Darla? Ten years?” “Nine,” Tess murmured. She glanced toward the den. The door remained closed. “And he didn’t sleep with Darla,” she whispered. “He cared for her, but he wasn’t unfaithful.” Regardless of the absence of sex in the relationship, their father had hurt their mother terribly. Tess couldn’t imagine experiencing that kind of pain. “I was eighteen. I straight-out asked him how far things had gone with Darla, and he told me. Why would he lie at that point?”

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Randi shrugged. “Who knows?” Jenna opened the Oreo package. “Whatever he did or didn’t do with that D woman is in the past. Supposedly, Mom forgave him, but she won’t let him forget.” Randi added, “No matter how hard he tries, she’s never satisfied.” “He gives her everything she wants,” Jenna murmured. “Except what she wants most—his love.” Tess rubbed the tabletop. “Think about it. He told Mom he thought he might be falling in love with someone else.” “But he ended it, right?” Randi asked. “To fix things with Mom.” “That’s the story.” Jenna sighed. “Our family’s a mess.” She doled out a cookie to each sister. In unison, they peeled the chocolate halves from the creamy, white centers. “It’s no wonder none of us wants to fall in love,” Tess muttered. “Or think we’ve fallen in love.” Jenna licked her cookie. “Mom says she loves Dad, but I think she loves what he can give her.” “That might be a product of the situation,” Randi commented. “Maybe, deep down, Mom’s always realized he married her because she was pregnant. So she figured if she was a good-enough wife, kept a clean house and raised three perfect kids, she’d win his love. It only makes sense that she’d want her own surface trappings in return.” “But true love can’t be forced,” Tess said. Randi and Jenna nodded. Jenna asked, “Are we the only grown kids in the world who wouldn’t mind if their parents got divorced? I’m telling you, no way will I allow a guy to victimize me like Mom has. Only boy-toys for me, and never have sex without protection.” “Protection can fail, Jenn.” Tess bit a chocolate-cookie half.

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“That’s why I’m on the Pill, use condoms and still insist Aaron pulls out.” “Aaron’s the current boy-toy?” Randi asked. Jenna’s blue eyes widened. “And how.” Tess smiled. Jenna’s plan sounded remarkably familiar. Except Jenna was going for the gusto right now, whereas Tess’s boy-toy fantasies remained rooted in the far-off future. But for how long? Zach Halliday was a tempting diversion, and she so wanted to give in.

“Zach darling, you made it!” Zach glanced over his shoulder. He’d entered the art gallery moments ago. Already, Sydney van Hoyt homed in on him, her thin arms outstretched like a hawk winging down on its prey. Her fake British accent cut above the crowd’s chatter. Pearls, diamonds and rubies dripped from her neck, wrists, fingers and ears. A crystal champagne flute tipped precariously in one hand. She swooped in for a double air kiss. “How delightful that you could come!” She flourished her champagne glass toward the interior of the art gallery situated in one of the century-old houses that had survived downtown Vancouver’s rapid growth. By some miracle, she didn’t spill the bubbly. “Absolutely everyone who is anyone is here, Zach! I’m thrilled, and Teddy is thrilled for me. My first show at van Hoyt’s Downtown is a success!” Zach surveyed the main room. Several patrons sampled the free drinks and hors d’œuvres, although a few inspected the paintings. From this distance, the artwork appeared as garish as Sydney’s booty. He indicated her three necklaces. “Nice gems.”

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She laughed. “Zach, you silly, the show is titled Extravagance, and I’m extravagance itself, am I not?” She twirled, the baubles clinking. “Rodney loved the idea.” “Rodney?” “The artist, Rodney Post. Surely, you’ve heard of him?” She waved a bejeweled hand. “No worries, I’ll introduce you later. Teddy has him occupied with some très importantes at the moment, and I have more guests to greet, so mingle, mingle, prepare to jingle your pockets, and buy, buy, buy!” She swooped toward the door again. “Louisa, Jonathon! How delightful that you could come!” Zach lost himself in the crowd. When Sydney began mangling French and Spanish, it was time to vamoose. Besides, he hadn’t come to see Sydney. Only one woman’s presence at the art gallery interested him, and he didn’t even know if she was here. Tess. Five restless nights had passed since their humdinger of a kiss in her apartment. Only the dry fuck hadn’t expelled Zach’s need for her, as it might have with any other woman. All week, memories of her scent, heat and satin mouth had consumed him. Thoughts of wanting her had tortured him. As had fantasies of having her. Since Sunday, they’d spoken twice over the phone, but only about Climbing The Walls. He’d said the next move would be hers. Well, he’d lied. Because he couldn’t survive another day without seeing her. Without touching her, kissing her, eventually thrusting his cock deep inside her. Sex was the only way he knew to rid this burning desire for her from his blood. But he had to find her first. Where was she?

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He maneuvered through a wall of well-dressed bodies. Blake Ashton smiled at him. “Hey, Zach. I thought you weren’t coming.” They shook hands. “Blake. How are you?” A voluptuous blonde hung onto Blake’s arm. Charlotte Meyers. She and Zach had dated a few times, so Zach knew what Blake was in for—a whole lot of Charlotte passively lying there, thinking her double D’s were enough. “Charlotte, you look stunning, as usual.” She beamed. No bad blood existed between them. Charlotte wasn’t the longhaul type. Zach glanced around for Tess. “I thought you weren’t coming, either,” he said without looking at Blake. “We have a climb tomorrow.” “Charlotte wanted to. We can push back the trip an hour.” “Huh?” Zach scanned the gallery again. “Yeah, okay.” Blake grinned. “You’re in dreamland, buddy.” “Sorry. I’m looking for someone.” “Let me guess. A woman.” A glimpse of red-gold hair entered his line of vision. “It looks like I just found her. Excuse me, Blake, Charlotte.” He tipped a hand. “Catch you later.” He moved through the crowd, an odd sensation gathering in his chest. Tess stood four meters away, a group of suits hanging on her every word. What was it about her? Yes, she was intelligent, sexy and beautiful, but he’d dated innumerable smart, sexy women. However, like Charlotte, those women had represented the chase to him. Tess was more than a chase. How much more, he’d yet to determine. But he would. The sight of her drew him as if he were hypnotized. His rear view of her sexy, slim body revealed the plunging lines of her ice-blue dress. Delicate straps

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crisscrossed her spine, and the loosely tied bow begged a guy to touch her pale skin and explore the slippery fabric draping her ass. Her hair was swept up into a graceful style with waves crowning her head and tiny curls kissing her neck. A compact, silver evening bag hung from one lightly freckled shoulder. As Zach neared her, the guy on her right placed a hand on her hip. The asshole’s fingers slid across the small of her back. Miss Strawberry politely nudged the wandering appendage, and the errant hand skittered away. Zach fought like hell not to feel possessive. She looked like a movie star with her entourage. But she wasn’t a silver-screen fantasy. She was very real. And he wanted her.

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Chapter Eleven

Tess tried to muster interest in Daniel Scofield’s conversation, but the advertising executive blathered about some boring new account. Since when had talking shop with her platonic male friends grown so tiresome? True, fending off Paul McMillan’s unexpected advances was a little wearing, but she could manage Paul. He’d probably drunk too much and had mistaken her proximity for romantic interest. Although, come to think of it, he’d never misinterpreted her motives before. Maybe it was her dress. She sipped her champagne while Daniel jawed along to Paul’s, Richard’s and Kevin Ambrose’s nodding. Usually, she selected conservative outfits for business gatherings. However, tonight was different, because tonight she’d dressed for Zach. In case he decided to come. If he showed up, she’d take it as a sign to overlook her concerns about mixing personal and professional relationships—for once—and cut loose. With him. If he didn’t put in an appearance, she’d forget their insane attraction and refocus her energies on work. Did she ever need to. All week, her concentration at the office had suffered. She had to do something to placate her neglected inner nympho. And she wanted to do it with Zach Halliday, no one else. Zach, who wouldn’t place her in danger of confusing sex with love. Zach, who’d fuck her brainless and leave her oh-so-satisfied. Yes.

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A movement to her left snared her attention. Her heart stumbled in her chest. He’s here. No one else affected her this strongly. Relax. Stay calm. Smile shaky, she faced him. “Zach. Hi.” “Hello, Teresa.” His responding grin crinkled his eyes. He wore a tie and dress shirt, and it wasn’t lost on her that he’d used her formal name in this business-related setting. She made room for him in the group. “I thought you had an early climb tomorrow.” “I talked to Blake. We pushed it back.” A wave of pleasure warmed her. “Let me introduce you.” She started with his end of the group. “Daniel Scofield is with McKitrick Advertising, Richard Newton works with Bertrand Financial, and Kevin Ambrose and Paul McMillan are with Dundleberry.” Zach shook each man’s hand. “Dundleberry?” he asked Paul. “The accounting firm?” Paul nodded. “And you are again?” “Zach Halliday.” “Zach is with Halliday Enterprises, Paul.” As per their agreement, Tess didn’t mention Climbing The Walls. Resentment flickered in Paul’s eyes. “Halliday? I’ve heard of you.” “Nothing good, I hope,” Zach quipped. Paul snorted. “Word is you’re pissing away time and money at your daddy’s company. A million opportunities, and you’re wasting them.” Zach cut Paul a patient, I-could-eat-you-for-breakfast-if-I-wanted-to smile. “That’s me.” Paul sneered. “Must be rough.” Tess gaped. “Paul, that’s highly inappropriate!”

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Richard, Daniel and Kevin must have thought so, too. Her three friends drifted away, mumbling about looking at the paintings. Zach shrugged. “Teresa, I’m inappropriate at the best of times, so don’t sweat it.” How could he brush off Paul’s insults? “I don’t care. It’s—” Paul broke in, “Teresa and I used to date occasionally. She’s too busy with work these days. Thought I’d warn you.” He squared his shoulders, suddenly reminding her of a rooster in a henhouse. Zach ignored Paul’s blatant attempts to goad him. Instead, he gazed calmly at her. “Remember my promise to introduce you to Blake?” Dumbfounded by Paul’s behavior, she nodded. “How about now?” Paul grimaced. “Why not? I know when I’m toast.” He strode toward the nearest waiter carrying a drink tray. Skin prickling, Tess said, “I’m sorry for Paul’s rudeness. He’s usually so nice.” Zach chuckled. “You dated that dweeb?” Now he sounded like Chloe. Despite her unease, Tess smiled. “Not exclusively.” “Oh really?” “We’re friends more than anything else.” She paused. “Were friends. After that embarrassing display, I’m not sure I want to keep his friendship.” “Don’t write him off yet—as a friend. Although I’d prefer it if you didn’t date him.” His easygoing manner relaxed her. “Choosing my dates now?” “Never. However, I thought I recognized his name when you mentioned Dundleberry. Do you know Carla Stinson? She works there.”

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Tess nodded. “Paul was stuck on her a couple of years ago. That’s why he and I started hanging out. He needed a shoulder to lean on when she dumped him.” “Uh-huh. Why did she dump him?” “Some rich guy she had the hots for.” She laughed. “That was you?” He was all teeth. “Guilty.” “Oh, Zach, you really deserve your reputation.” Rather than turning her off, the knowledge reassured her conscience. A good-time sex machine shouldn’t possess any qualms about indulging in a round or two of meaningless bedroom gymnastics. “I didn’t know they were an item when I met her,” Zach said. “She didn’t mention Paul?” “Nope. I guess she was too occupied to talk.” His mischievous gaze implied, with him. Lucky witch. Now that thought could have only originated from the inner nympho. In fact, this entire conversation was so not par for the course for Tess. Discussing her fantasy sex partner’s history in such detail? Yet, with Zach, the discussion didn’t bother her or make her not feel special enough to him. She didn’t want to feel special. She wanted to feel orgasmic. In multiples. “When did you learn about Paul?” she asked. “You really want to hear this?” “I’m a lawyer. We’re thorough.” “The next morning, when he called Carla’s place and I answered. I felt bad about it, and I broke it off right away. I told Carla she should work through

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whatever was happening between her and Paul. I don’t know the outcome, though. This is the first time I’ve met the guy.” Tess nodded. Now Paul’s strange behavior made sense. He’d loved Carla, and she’d treated him poorly, never contacting him outside of work again. “All right, but why bring me into it? Paul and I haven’t dated in ages.” Zach’s gaze traveled over her. “Wearing that slinky dress, you have to ask?” Okay, red-line territory. “Excuse me?” “Sometimes men are dense, Tess. Maybe Paul thought you choosing that dress gave him the go-ahead to move beyond the friend stage. Then I show up— the same guy he thinks stole his girlfriend—and you start talking to me.” Her face warmed…with pleasure that Zach liked what he saw, with annoyance for Paul’s assumption that she’d worn the dress to entice him. She huffed out a breath. “Why does every last man in the world think how a woman dresses means she either is or isn’t coming on to him?” “Every last man in the world doesn’t think that way, Tess. I’m just suggesting that Paul might have.” “Too bad. Because I didn’t wear the dress for Paul.” “Who’d you wear it for, then?” Zach’s gaze fixed solely on her. The sights and sounds of the gallery ebbed away, the space between them so charged with sexual energy that she could barely breathe. She poked her nose in the air. “For myself.” “Huh.” His eyes glimmered. “Not for me, then?” This was what she’d missed, not seeing him this week—the potent chemistry, the arousing banter, the delicious sparks. “How could I wear it for you, when I didn’t know you’d be here?” “You could have hoped I would be.”

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“Dream on, Halliday.” She glanced around the art gallery. “Are you introducing me to Blake, or was that a ploy to convince Paul to leave? This is a business event for me, you know. Sydney’s a client now.” “Ah, so she retained you. Congratulations.” She angled him a glance. “Well?” He chuckled. “No ploy. I spoke to Blake a few minutes ago.” His large hand settled on her elbow. “Over this way.” As he escorted her toward the hors d’œuvre table, his low voice drifted to her ears. “I have to warn you, though, there’s an excellent reason I came here tonight. It has nothing to do with business and everything to do with you.” Nothing to do with business and everything to do with you. For the hundredth time that evening, Tess tried to concentrate on the person speaking—in this case, Blake Ashton, only the most sought-after young criminal lawyer in the city—but Zach’s softly spoken words reverberated through her mind and body, keeping her aroused and spilling over with nervous energy The man had verbal foreplay down to an art form. He wasn’t even touching her, yet the sexual tension arcing between them almost glowed it was so palpable. Palpable to them, that was. She needed to ensure their attraction wasn’t evident to those around them. Yes, they’d shared a pre-existing relationship before she’d agreed to represent him, but flaunting her physical feelings for Zach Halliday was out of the question. “I take it you agree, Teresa?” Blake asked. “About what?”

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Zach’s friend delivered a dazzling smile. Blake Ashton was quite simply gorgeous, if one liked their men in a young-Mel-Gibson-during-the-LethalWeapon-era sort of way. Given how Charlotte hung onto Blake’s arm, the curvy blonde liked him just fine. However, Tess preferred her men in a decidedly Zach Halliday fashion. Unique. Incomparable. Relentlessly persistent. And still gorgeous. “The paintings,” Blake said. “Interesting, eh?” “Oh yes. Sydney’s done a fantastic job.” Truth be told, Tess hadn’t scrutinized the paintings yet. Paul had glommed onto her as soon as she’d arrived. Even then, her thoughts had centered on Zach. Beside her, Zach remarked, “You haven’t listened to a word we’ve said.” “Of course I have,” she fibbed. Were the paintings awful? None hung near the hors d’œuvre table to check. “But art is subjective, right?” Blake chuckled. “Nice. No wonder Sydney hired you.” Charlotte touched Blake’s arm. “I need to visit the ladies’. Would you search out more champagne while I’m gone?” “No problem. I’ll head that way with you. Teresa, good to meet you.” Blake shook her hand. “Zach, I’ll see you tomorrow. Nine a.m. I’ll drive.” Tess murmured her goodbyes. As Blake and Charlotte turned toward the washrooms, she tapped her pinky finger against her champagne glass. For the first time since they’d hooked up on her couch, she and Zach were alone—albeit in a crowded art gallery. And she felt as nervous as a butterfly in October. “So.” She looked at him. His eyebrows lifted. “So.”

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Always teasing. Good thing she’d decided to pursue their attraction, because a girl could wear herself out resisting his easy charm. “You said you came here for a reason,” she murmured. “That’s right.” His gaze caught hers. “You and me.” She couldn’t wait. But first they needed to settle a few things. “Zach, last Sunday you said—” “That the next move was yours. I know. What can I say? I’m not a patient guy.” “That’s okay. I came here for a reason, too, and it wasn’t just to support Sydney. We need to talk.” “Damn. I confess I had my heart set on more than talking.” He never let up. “The talking comes first.” “I don’t know. It could always come at the same time. Do you like to…talk, Teresa?” Sensual undertones laced his voice. Did he mean talking during sex? Or coming at the same time? Sunday afternoon on her couch topped her naughty chitchat experiences. “I’ve never talked at the same time,” she admitted. During sex. “Are we talking talking while otherwise occupied or simultaneous ‘talking’?” She laughed quietly. Zach’s self-assurance delighted her to no end. To anyone around them, they could be discussing the weather. “I’ve never talked while otherwise occupied.” She’d never simultaneously “talked”, either, but she couldn’t give away all her secrets. “We’ll have to rectify that.” “Zach—”

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“I know. The real talking.” He glanced to her left. “Sydney’s on her way. Listen, two or three rooms branch off this one. Once Sydney’s done her bit, let’s find a less crowded room. We can look at the paintings and…talk.” “I’d like that.” In the next instant, Sydney fell upon them. “Teresa, there you are! Teddy wants to introduce you to a business associate. Very possibly his soon-to-be partner!” She wiggled with excitement, her bracelets and necklaces jangling. “Zach darling, you won’t mind?” She patted his arm. “There’s a love.” “Find me,” Tess mouthed in Zach’s direction as Sydney dragged her off.

Zach entered the third display room stemming off the main parlor. What had Sydney done with Tess? The women had disappeared forty minutes ago. Time that should have belonged to him and Tess. Hands in his trouser pockets, he studied the room. A few guests congregated near the huge sculpture dominating the small space—a freakish parody of Michelangelo’s David. In keeping with the theme of extravagance, the statue sported a prominent, gemstone-encrusted erection. Zach rolled his eyes. He’d always thought Michelangelo had cheated the original David in the manroot department, but Post’s version bordered on ridiculous. Was depicting a lewd version of world-famous art even legal? Tess would know. His Tess. His special woman. The thought stopped him. However, only for a moment. Yes, there was definitely something special about Tess. And how he felt about her.

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Something in her smile, her soul. Her caring, her sense of adventure, her soft heart. Their connection transcended the physical. That sounded so corny, he couldn’t believe it. Neither could he deny it. Tess meant more to him than any woman he’d dated. All of them. Combined. This feeling couldn’t last, would probably die out once their attraction waned. But he wanted to ride it for all it was worth—until it ended. He circled the group near the statue then spotted her. She stood alone, studying a painting in the farthest corner of the room, her refilled champagne glass pressed to her cheek. She shifted her weight from one sandaled foot to the other. As if sensing his approach, she turned and offered a gracious smile. His chest tightened. Yeah, she was damn sure special. “You’re a difficult woman to get alone,” he said as he neared her. “Sydney’s high maintenance tonight.” “Sydney’s always high maintenance.” “I’m beginning to realize that.” Her gaze returned to the painting. “This artist she’s featuring—” “Rodney Post.” Zach loosened his tie. He hated ties, but hadn’t wanted to draw attention to himself or Tess by looking out of place in his standard golf shirt and Dockers. “What do you think of his paintings?” Zach studied the large monstrosity in a heavy gilt frame. The Picassoinspired piece of…work featured two or possibly three figures of indeterminate gender engaged in oral sex. Like Post’s other offerings, fake jewels encrusted the dark, heavy oils. In this case, an inordinate number of pearls. How to put it politely? “Definitely multi-media.”

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Tess laughed. “I couldn’t agree more. I’ve visited the gallery before, when Sydney’s grandmother was alive. I don’t recall Millicent van Hoyt sharing Sydney’s taste.” “You tell me. Millie was a class act. But Sydney’s determined to make her own mark, and good for her. You can’t deny there’s an audience for this crap. I’ve seen worse.” “I hope his style isn’t catching. It’s vulgar. It’s like he’s obsessed with his genitals.” “What can you expect from a guy named Rod Post?” She laughed again. The rich, musical sound heated Zach’s veins. He grazed her shoulder with a fingertip. “I’m proud of you.” “Why?” “Because Sydney took you on. Because your skill and reputation convinced her to. This is only the start for you, Tess.” “I have you to thank for it.” “All I did was introduce you.” They proceeded to the next painting, slightly less vulgar than the last. At least Sydney had displayed the artist’s most questionable pieces in the small, private room. Zach glanced back to the group near the statue. The room wasn’t private enough, though. He leaned in close to Tess. “About our talk…” “I can’t leave yet. Zach, I’m sorry. Sydney might need me again. Or Teddy.” “Until they do, you’re mine.” Her gaze flickered. They continued from painting to painting. When she spoke again, uncertainty traced her voice. “Zach, I’ve been thinking, our talk could become quite personal and I don’t want someone overhearing us.”

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“Someone who might mistake us for a couple?” Cheeks rosy, she nodded. “You still want to be alone with me, though.” The desire in her eyes revealed her answer. He quieted his voice further. “Do you want me to touch you, Tess?” Her lips parted. “Do you want to touch me?” She licked those luscious lips, and his manroot immediately put Post’s parody of Michelangelo’s David to shame. It was quite evident she was turned on. Zero to ninety in under sixty seconds. Hell, she and him both. “We’re lucky I’m so resourceful, then.” He clasped her hand. “Come on.”

“You weren’t kidding when you said you’re resourceful,” Tess halfwhispered. She blinked, but the pitch-black darkness had swallowed her whole. Stepping backward, she bumped the rear wall of the under-stairs closet. Champagne droplets splashed her hand, and her evening bag bounced on her hip. “Did anyone see us come in here?” “Nope.” Zach’s low, quiet voice caressed her. While she sensed his presence, she couldn’t quite make him out. He stood several centimeters away, a large, inviting male shadow. “Did you look back to check?” She hadn’t. His questions about touching had aroused illicit sensations in her lust-starved body, mesmerizing her. If Paul or anyone else familiar with her work at Greenburg had seen them— “Don’t worry, my eyes were wide open.” “I’m not worried.”

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“Yes, you are. That’s okay. Your job means a lot to you. I wouldn’t put it in jeopardy.” Just being with him put her in jeopardy. Not her safety—her emotions. She wanted to sleep with Zach so badly, she ached. But she couldn’t risk confusing sex with sentiment and winding up like her unhappy mother. Chloe’s bet would help her in that regard. Six weeks. She could do it. In fact, the sooner she and Zach “did it”, the sooner the countdown could start. “I know you wouldn’t intentionally put my job in jeopardy, Zach,” she said quietly. “However, it might be best if I referred you to another lawyer.” “Not a chance. I want you.” Guilt chased her excitement. They’d already had this conversation when she’d agreed to represent him, and she’d benefited by way of Sydney and before long perhaps Teddy Wallis. Was it fair to ask Zach to back out of their arrangement? “But if I gave you to someone I trust?” she asked. The shadow of his head moved back and forth in a negative reply. Her eyes had adjusted to the darkness to the point where she distinguished his grainylooking features. “I’ve been down that road already, Tess, and I don’t want to travel it again. Having someone you trust isn’t the same as having you. I trust you.” His hand drifted to her arm, gliding up and down, producing rushes of sensation everywhere his fingertips touched. “Then I’ll take you on pro bono.” Arousal peaked within her. His hand continued gliding, stealing her breath and wreaking havoc with her senses. His low chuckle wove through her. “What are you up to?” “Negotiating the terms of our relationship.” “This could get interesting.” Abandoning her arm, he backed away.

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No, no. Wrong direction. “What are you up to?” she whispered. “Locking the door.” The catch snicked softly in the cocooning darkness. “Unless you’d rather risk someone coming in and catching us?” The damn man sounded hopeful. “Um, no, the locking’s okay.” Nerves jumping, she tightened her grip on her champagne glass. She needed to lose the awkward thing. “Good, because I want you to myself.” He stepped toward her again. The staircase landing provided space to move without clobbering their heads or forcing a retreat into the deepest reaches of the closet, where who knew how many dust bunnies, cobwebs and spiders lurked? She readjusted her purse strap on her shoulder. “You’re agreeing to the pro bono?” “I’m pro many things, babe, but bono isn’t one of them. I can afford to pay you.” “I don’t want you to. It makes me feel like I’m trading my services or something.” “You are trading your services—your legal services—for money.” “It feels like more than that. It feels like I’m trading sexual services for opportunities like Sydney and Teddy.” She paused. “And for money.” “But you aren’t.” “It feels like I am, and that’s what counts.” His hand rested on her arm again. Despite the turn their conversation had taken—or perhaps because of its bawdy nature—tiny goose bumps pebbled her bare flesh. Cool champagne drops spattered her hand. “Damn it, I’m spilling my drink.”

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He extracted the crystal flute from her fingers and placed the glass on a stack of boxes. “You aren’t prostituting yourself, babe.” His husky murmur rolled over her. “But perception is everything, and I sure as hell wouldn’t want you to perceive that you are.” His hands settled on her hips, their weight and warmth penetrating through her satin dress. Desire shot between her legs. “How about you represent me pro bono, and, in exchange, I’ll donate your usual fee to charity?” Creative thinking. She liked it. “A charity of my choosing?” she pinned down. He nodded. She supposed she couldn’t pass up this chance to develop her benevolent side. “Works for me.” What a relief. He smiled. Slow, sensual…and deadly sexy. “Should we continue the negotiations?” he whispered. “What else would you like to negotiate?” “I figure the primary issue is whether we agree to keep our relationship in the closet.” Her lips curved. But not for long. Zach’s head lowered. He was going to kiss her. The ache deep inside her chest swelled to overwhelming. Only the pressure of his mouth on hers could fill that empty space. Only the touch of his large, strong hands could tame the need rushing through her. Her nipples strained against her dress.

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He was taking his sweet time about that kiss, though. All this hovering so close, his breath warm on her cheek, his mouth so near that she practically tasted him, filled her with frustration. Someone had to take charge here—and fast.

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Dropping her purse to the floor, Tess wrapped her arms around his neck. “Our relationship stays in the closet, Zach…in your car if you drive me home…in my bedroom once we arrive. Anywhere it’s just you and me. I want to make love with you. I want to feel you moving inside me.” He groaned. A low, rumbling, frankly sexual sound. “Any chance we’ll do the phone thing again?” “Twice a night.” “And three times on Sunday.” His hands slid up her dress, splaying her ribcage. His thumbs and forefingers formed a vee beneath each breast. With a small thrust, he lifted both breasts slightly. Her rigid nipples skimmed the underside of the satin. Need hammered her from all directions. She’d never wanted any man this badly. “If you don’t kiss me soon, Halliday, I think I’ll scream.” “You’ll scream, anyway,” he murmured. His head lowered to the bodice of her dress. He drew the tip of one braless, satin-covered nipple into his mouth. The small spot of wetness seeped through the slippery fabric, creating a scintillating friction. Gasping at the mind-blowing sensations, she placed her palms on his chest. Her back arced, sending her pointed nipple deeper into his mouth. Tension gripped her pussy, and her thong panties moistened.

Kate St. James

Ohhh Godddd, she didn’t want him to stop, but she possessed enough presence of mind to realize that if he kept this up, the bodice of her dress would soak through. She’d remain stuck in this damn closet forever, waiting for the fabric to dry. A tempting thought, as long as Zach stayed with her. Unfortunately, she couldn’t afford to remain MIA much longer. “Zach, the stain—” He lifted his head. His gaze trained on her nipple. “No bigger than a nickel. I was careful.” Relief coursed through her, tinged with regret that she’d asked him to stop. That she’d felt she had to. “When I said kiss me, I meant the traditional way,” she said lightly. “I know.” His hips moved against her, his huge cock stiff and ready. “I couldn’t resist.” “I’m not complaining. It was—” “Fun?” “It was incredible.” “You don’t get out much, do you?” Laughter bubbled in her chest—she hadn’t realized making out in a closet was such a blast—but Zach’s lips came down on hers before the sound escaped. As their mouths met, his hands cupped her rear, gently lifting and urging the cheeks apart in a blatantly erotic movement. He pushed them back together, then apart again. The thong nestled in her wet cleft, rubbing her swollen clit and sinking deliciously into her. Heat swarmed everywhere, and she moaned. His mouth lifted a fraction. “Is this allowed?” Still playing the negotiation game. “Hell yes,” she murmured.

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His breath tickled her neck. His hand drifted beneath her dress hem, meeting bare flesh. Now he moaned. His fingers glided to the thong pressed into her pussy. “How about this? Allowed?” She nodded. Hurry! Who was seducing whom? His finger slipped beneath the thong and probed her need-slick entrance. “This?” Sensual shudders swept her. Again, she nodded. “Don’t think I’m the only one getting undressed.” “Yes, you are.” He sounded smug. She slipped a hand between them. Displacing his fingers, she cupped his rigid cock through his dress pants. He wasn’t wearing briefs—she’d feel the extra fabric if he were. Instead, she grasped every indication of velvet heat and rockhard vibrancy, the indentation and malleable ridge where his thick penis and swollen head joined. She closed her hand around his erection as tightly as the bunching fabric and his girth allowed. “No, I’m not,” she whispered, stroking him. “You’re getting naked, too.” His jaw tightened. His eyes squeezed shut as his breath hissed from between clenched teeth. Excitement swarmed inside her. Who had the power now? He opened his eyes. “Sorry, babe. I don’t have a condom.” That lousy excuse again? “I do. In my purse.” She wanted to purr. “We don’t need condoms for what’s going to happen.” Ooh, good idea. Kneeling, she unzipped his pants. He grabbed her wrist. “Whoa, Tess, what are you doing?”

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“I want to suck you.” She freed his stiff cock. “Babe, I’d love that, but—” She pumped him. “Do you have any idea how long it’s been since I’ve had sex?’ “Um…ah…no.” “Over a year, Zach. I always use condoms, even for blowjobs.” She thrust her hand up and down. “I hope you’ll forgive me if I’m a little eager.” “You’ve never tasted—” “Naked cock?” She shook her head. Talking during foreplay definitely agreed with her. It heightened her senses, aroused her body, and focused her mind far away from her emotions. “I want you to be my first.” He groaned. “As it happens, I’m disease-free.” “Me, too. And I’m tired of tasting flavored latex.” His hips rolled with her thrusts. “Maybe just a minute.” She smiled. She hadn’t captained her high-school debate team for nothing. Slowing her strokes, she drew the plump head of his erection into her mouth. As she swirled her tongue around the ridge, his abdomen tensed. Her nipples tightened as his breathing quickened. Oh wow, he tasted amazing. Wonderful and powerful and potent—utterly male. She sucked him deeper into her mouth. He was so big, she only managed a few inches. Fondling his balls, she moved her head up and down. He moaned. True to his word, he granted her a few sparse moments of ecstasy before placing his hands on her elbows. “You’ll scrape your knees,” he murmured. “On the rough wood floor. Someone might notice the marks when we leave.” The head of his cock popped from her mouth. “Spoilsport.”

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“On your feet, woman. It’s my turn.” She stood. “You’re making the decisions now?” “Yep.” He readjusted his pants. “Negotiations are over.” He could take her right here in the damn closet if he wanted to. And did he ever want to. The moment he’d slipped his finger beneath her thong and touched her bare pussy, he’d nearly lost it. And when she’d started sucking his dick, it had required monumental willpower not to grab her up, tear off the flimsy thong and plunge into her. Against the wall. Her long legs locked around his hips. Her head lolling backward as she came. And came and came and came. Lust ripped through him at the image. There would be no plunging tonight, however. And no orgasm, either. Not for him, at any rate. Sydney van Hoyt had monopolized Tess’s time throughout the evening. The skinny brunette would probably seek her out again before the night ended. Was probably trying to track her down already. But Zach could only be so generous. And he wanted to watch his beautiful Miss Strawberry come. However, at the moment, he loved witnessing her reaction to his termination of negotiations. Her face had flushed from the warmth of the closet and the excellent head. Her eyes were wide, the pupils dilated. “Negotiations are over?” she echoed in a languorous voice suggesting she didn’t mind. A woman like Tess Sheridan wouldn’t hand over sexual control on a whim. She’d probably realized from their dry hump on Sunday that he planned to ensure she derived copious amounts of pleasure from the experience.

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“Over, done with, kaput.” He pulled her against his chest. He grasped her wrist and held it behind her waist. His knuckles grazed her back and the thin satin bow of her dress. Moving their hands back and forth, he tweaked the bow with two fingers. Her breathing grew shallow, and he smiled. One tug and the bow would loosen, causing the front of her dress to drape. Two tugs and the ribbon would fall completely undone. Her dress would pool around her waist, exposing the breasts he died to worship. Her arousal-softened gaze conveyed that she thought along the same lines. Hedonistic pleasure flared in him. She could prevent her predicament with one touch of her other hand, but she didn’t. Her tits rose and fell in rhythm with her breathing beneath the ice-blue satin, begging him to deliver on the sensual situation and untie the bow. Damn their lack of time. They were taking too long as it was. He’d lick her tits another night. He was so considerate, it killed him. “I’m not going to undress you,” he whispered. “But I will make you scream. Quietly, if you can manage it.” She nodded. In the darkness, her lips parted. He groaned, drinking in the sight of her full mouth, relishing the sensation of her erect nipples poking his chest through his dress shirt. “Do you trust me?” He maintained an undemanding tone. “Yes.” “I’m letting go of your hand now, and I want you to take off my tie. Will you do that?” Moistening her lips, she nodded. He released her hand. Her fingers shook as she worked the tie free.

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“Are you nervous?” he asked. “No.” Her gaze dipped. “Excited.” “Join the club.” The tie undone, she pulled. The silk whisked out from beneath his shirt collar. She bunched it into a ball. “Now what?” she asked. “Hand it over.” Chin rising, she passed him the tie. “You’ll get yours, you know.” He smiled at the intimation that she wanted many more nights with him. “Put your hands behind your back.” His throat tightened as, once more, she dutifully followed orders. He loved a compliant woman. Moving quickly, he reached behind her and positioned her palms together where her ass curved in a smooth arc, then he loosely knotted his tie around her wrists. As he finished, a sultry sigh drifted from her mouth. Zach gazed at his sexy captive. With her hair in a wavy crown atop her head, she looked both elegant and regal. Her bound hands drew her shoulders back and thrust her tits forward. Not so elegant a look, but he wasn’t complaining. He drifted his gaze lower. A smidgen of dampness darkened the satin covering her left breast—the one he’d tasted through the slippery fabric. He couldn’t enjoy the unique sensation again without mussing her to the point where someone might notice once they left their haven. Instead, kissing her mouth, he plucked the nipple through the satin with his fingers. Rolling the tip, he squeezed to the music of her soft moans. Her lips parted, deepening the kiss. He sucked her tongue into his mouth. No more talk. No games. It was time to quench the fire driving them both.

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Raising his other hand, he rolled both nipples until she whimpered. He lifted her dress and pushed aside the thong. Her trimmed curls followed a bikini line she must have spruced up tonight, if the softness of her skin was any indication. Sexual need pulsed in him. He parted her folds. She was so wet. He pushed in a finger, pulled it back, then thrust home. Her mouth tore from his. She gasped, helpless to do anything but sag against the closet wall and take what he offered. Or she could object and he’d stop. Except she wasn’t objecting. Fusing their mouths again, he slowly slipped another finger into her hot pussy. Her inner muscles contracted then slackened to accommodate the relentless thrusting action. Her slickness spurred him on, and he drove into her again and again. The pad below his thumb massaged her swollen clit with each bump of his hand. Her mouth fell away. Her head lolled as seductively as he’d imagined, and he kissed her neck where the smooth curve met her collarbone. Her whimpers escalated into erotic noises that could soon have them discovered. Cupping her chin, he turned her face to his and drank her cries as she bucked against his other hand. Her pussy tightened, clenched, pulsed around him. When the tremors subsided, he withdrew his fingers and repositioned the thong. Stepping back, he retrieved the champagne flute from the cardboard boxes. He dipped his musk-slippery fingers into the expensive wine. Removed them.

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Slowly sucked the tangy mixture of Tess’s honey-rich essence and French champagne from his fingers. Still bound, she watched him. Her gaze widened in the darkness wrapping them in privacy. He lifted a finger to her mouth and painted her lips with her essence, then licked the musky flavor off her mouth with several tiny laps of his tongue. She moaned, drawing his tongue fully into her mouth, her hips straining for his erection. Luring, beckoning, torturing—nearly breaking him in two with the need to take her. Now. To make her his. Forever. With formidable effort, he drew back. They wouldn’t make love tonight. He had a thing for anticipation, and he intended to savor every moment she was willing to share with him. But, damn, she made it difficult. He set aside the champagne flute. “Now that we’ve dispensed with the preliminaries, we can discuss the nittygritty,” he murmured. “Which is?” “Our first date.” He grinned.

Ethan didn’t know what the hell he was doing anymore. Here he sat in Vancouver’s most sophisticated steakhouse with beautiful, accomplished Allison Maynard as his date—and he was thoroughly bored. “…confirming that Très Belle is on target for our third quarter,” the willowy blonde said. “With the designs coming in from Paris and Milan next week, I’m confident we’ll outrace the competition for the rest of the year.”

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Chewing his crab-cake appetizer, Ethan nodded at appropriate intervals as Allison raved about her small chain of high-end lingerie stores. Her scarletpainted lips pursed in preparation for slicking the cocktail sauce off another jumbo shrimp. She flaunted an enthusiasm that brought to mind Xaviera Hollander’s phallic-shaped lipstick tube in the girlie magazines of Ethan’s youth—and even that didn’t interest him. Now maybe if Allison were dark-haired. A piece of crab cake lodged in his throat. He washed down the tidbit with a swallow of zinfandel. Get real. Zach had nailed the problem—Ethan needed to let off some steam. However, his old stand-by of staging a practical joke on his father or brother required a level of creative thinking that had long since abandoned him. Lately, the only time he broached creative—in his sex dreams—the nameless brunette from Whole Latte Lovin’ played a starring role. Not even the woman’s strange behavior in Stanley Park five days ago had eradicated her from his thoughts. True to his vow, Ethan hadn’t visited the coffeehouse since. And he craved their macchiatos like mad. He was infatuated. With the coffee or the woman? “Ethan?” He gazed at Allison. “Sorry. You were saying?” She sighed. “Do you think it’s too soon to expand Très Belle to Calgary and Edmonton?” “I might not be the best guy to ask about lingerie,” he hedged so she wouldn’t guess how little attention he’d devoted to their conversation. “Why not?” She smirked. “Haven’t seen any in a while?”

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Ethan laughed. She was right. He hadn’t had sex in months. He’d told himself over and over that concentrating on business now would allow him more freedom later. This winter, next spring, two years down the line. Maybe he’d finally stretched the definition of “later” too far. He’d asked Allison to dinner to cure him of his fascination with the brunette. They’d yet to receive their entrées and his mind wandered worse than a hyperactive eightyear-old’s without his ADD medication. “Blahblahblahblahblah.” Allison’s conversation smeared into one long word. “Blather-blather, blahblah. Blah.” “Yep. Uh-huh.” Another bite of crab cake. “Blahblah. Blahblahblah. Blah! Blah! Blahblahblah!” Ethan peered at her. “Fuck, Ethan, that’s it!” Allison’s classy cloth napkin slapped onto the table. He put down his fork. “I’m sorry, Anna.” Awww, fuck! “Allison. I’m sorry I haven’t been more attentive. I have a lot on my mind.” Her beautiful features screwed together. “Anna? Who the hell is Anna?” He splayed his hands. “I don’t know.” “Well, I’m no Anna. And I’m damn fed up with your blank stares and mumbling. Men don’t ignore me, Ethan Halliday.” She climbed out of the booth, eyes blazing. “People are looking,” Ethan cautioned as several heads turned. Her hand jerked. “Let them. When you called the other day, I thought finally he’s showing interest. It’s not like I haven’t been sending you signals for weeks.” “You have?” “We’re both busy and committed to our careers. What would a little dinner and some good sex hurt? I seriously need to get laid, Ethan. I’ve wasted the last seven weeks thinking I might get what I want from you.”

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“You tell him, honey,” a woman commented from the nearby tables. Ethan suspected a ruddy tinge darkened his face—his skin burned to his bones. “Allison, please sit and we’ll talk. I’ll say it again, I’m sorry.” “Not as sorry as you’ll be tomorrow morning when you wake up alone.” She whirled around and stormed from the restaurant, nearly clipping a server wielding their steaks. The server arrived, and Ethan pushed aside his appetizer. He’d ordered two filets, and he would eat them. Hopefully, the public humiliation would help him realize he was stuck in a rut deeper than the San Andreas Fault. He must be if he hadn’t caught on to gorgeous Allison Maynard’s hinting. He needed something radical to shake him up. And he had a sinking feeling he knew what—or who–that something was.

Saturday night, Tess was a bundle of nerves—pure adolescent silliness. She and Zach had eaten dinner together before. First, at Northview with Sydney and Teddy, then the pizza at her place. Neither of those meals had qualified as an actual date, though, no matter what she’d allowed Chloe to believe. The golf dinner had been about building Tess’s client list. Despite her and Zach’s pantymelting couch romp, last Sunday had revolved around revamping his business plan. Tonight, however, was about them. Solely. No pretending. Her sandals removed and her sundress swathing her crossed legs beneath the polished Japanese pine table, she scoped out the traditional décor of the tatami room in Tanaka’s. Now that Zach wasn’t a paying client, being seen in public as his potential date didn’t carry the same professional taboo. But she still appreciated his thoughtfulness at securing the private room on short notice, not

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to mention asking Rob to let them use the restaurant’s back entrance. She loved the sinful way all this sneaking around made her feel. Like last night at the art gallery… A sensual ripple gripped her. Needing to distract herself from mooning over the previous night’s events, she watched Zach dip his ceramic spoon into the last of his miso soup. The memories assailed her regardless. The afterglow of her orgasm had warmed her long after their separate escapes from the under-stairs closet. It was a wonder she’d survived the evening without blushing furiously every time somebody had glanced at her. His head lifted. “You don’t like the soup?” “It’s very tasty.” She sipped a spoonful. “I’m just saving room for the sushi.” “Talk about great timing. It’s here.” His gaze moved to a shadow-figure at the tatami room’s rice-paper door. A light rap rattled on the bamboo cross-frame. At Zach’s murmur of acquiescence, their kimono-clad waitress slid open the door. She placed the plates of sushi and yakitori on the table, then retrieved the soup bowls and left. The door closed again. Mouth watering, Tess snapped apart her chopsticks. Zach didn’t touch his set. “Mind if I use my fingers?” “What’s the matter, Halliday? Cat got your dexterity?” “I’m mighty dexterous with chopsticks, I assure you. I just prefer the feeling of the sticky sushi rice on my fingers. It’s a texture thing, you know.” The man made “sticky” and “sushi” sound X-rated. And the way his mouth wrapped around “texture”—particularly the “tex” part—scattered erotic vibrations along her nerve endings. She drew in a slow breath intended to dissipate her tension. It didn’t work very well, though. Heat pooled between her legs, and her nipples stiffened.

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It was going to be a long wait until she got what she wanted—the natural follow-up to last night. She wanted Zach to feel every bit as marvelous and decadent as she’d felt then. “By all means, use your fingers,” she murmured. “In fact, I think tonight you should do…whatever comes natural.” She smiled. An expression of enjoyable discomfort crossed his face. He shifted on his woven mat. Had his jeans grown tighter? She curved her hair behind her ears so it wouldn’t fall into her food. She picked up a tuna roll with her chopsticks, dipped the roll in soy sauce and lifted the delicacy to her mouth. The salty seaweed sparkled on her taste buds. For her second roll, she added a dab of hot wasabi then doused the flames with a swallow of smooth Kirin beer. Zach chose a rice-studded shrimp roll with his fingers. When he finished eating, a grain of sticky rice clung to his thumb. He licked it off. Tess pouted. No fair. She’d wanted to do that for him. “Care to share?” she asked. “I’d love to taste…your rolls.” He chuckled. “Want me to use chopsticks?” “No.” Her voice flowed as soft and warm as the sensation flooding her body. He groaned. “The things you do to me.” He indicated his plate. “Wasabi?” “Please.” The dulcet strains of a Japanese guitar drifted from concealed speakers. The combination of the soothing music and the primitive nature of their sitting positions—thighs open to each other beneath the table, shins crossed, feet shoeless—cloaked them in a cozy intimacy she’d never experienced with another man. Every sense she possessed zeroed in on Zach. It was almost as if his soul had stolen into hers and held her hostage. She dared not imagine the exquisite sensation of finally having him deep inside her.

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Using chopsticks, he decorated another roll with the hot green horseradish. Placing aside the utensils, he dipped the roll in sauce with his fingers and brought it to her mouth. Careful not to knick his skin, she bit into the roll. A rice grain stuck to his thumb. She flicked out her tongue to catch it. “Mmm.” His sultry gaze followed her movements. “Should I eat the rest?” His voice rumbled like something—preferably lust—had wedged in his throat. Swallowing, she nodded. While he finished the roll, she prepared another. She positioned it at his lips. Their gazes locked. His hand curved around her wrist—protective and possessive. As he bit into the roll, his thumb caressed the jumping pulse on the underside of her wrist. Her heart beat crazily. She’d always loved sushi, however, sharing the delicacy with Zach Halliday elevated her appreciation of Japanese cuisine to a new level. The need to be alone with him—really alone this time—carved through her so deeply, it hurt. She hoped he didn’t mind cold yakitori, because the skewered chicken was about to find a new home in a Tanaka’s doggy bag. Where should she suggest they go? Last night, at her request, Zach had driven her home from the art-gallery opening. However, citing this morning’s climb with Blake Ashton and some bogus theory about prolonging anticipation, he’d declined her invitation into her apartment. Instead, he’d left her standing at the door with a chaste kiss warming her lips and a vulnerable pang hollowing her chest. About equivalent to how she felt right now. A million butterflies fluttered in her stomach. Suddenly, asking him back to her place felt entirely too intimate. Too much, too soon. Too damn close.

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She wanted him—but on her terms. Where she said, how she said. Completely sexual. No crawling inside her head, and definitely staying the hell away from her heart. “Should we have dessert?” he asked. “They make great tempura fried ice cream.” “Sounds wonderful, but no.” A sexy light in his eyes, he placed his hand over hers on the table. “What do you want, babe? Tell me, and you’ll have it.” “Promise?” She’d better not hear one word about anticipation. He nodded. She inhaled deeply. “You.”

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Chapter Thirteen

To hell with anticipation. He was a reformed man. Zach stored the Tanaka’s doggy bag in his fridge and retrieved a bottle of merlot from the counter rack. Fetching two wineglasses, he returned to the living room. The incentive for his rehabilitation knelt on the birch floor beside the leather sofa. Her beautiful ass protruded as she reached behind the side table. The tiny floral pattern of her summery dress provided an innocent-looking contrast to the arousing position. “What are you doing?” he asked. She glanced back. Her blazing-sunshine tresses tumbled over her shoulders. “I heard purring. It’s your cat.” “Ah.” Great timing, feline. “Yeah, sometimes he sleeps there.” “He’s gorgeous. What’s his name again?” Mood-Killer. “Lump.” Tess crouched on her sandals, lugging the animal into her arms. “He’s huge!” Lump’s resulting purr rumbled like a Harley. “Eating everything in sight has that effect.” Zach set the wine bottle and goblets on the bronze-legged coffee table. The clinking of crystal against the glass surface tinkled beneath the bluesy strains of an old Jonny Lang CD. The seductive tempo of “Breakin’ Me” mirrored Zach’s need for Tess. Laughing, she sat on the sofa with the cat. Her movements reflected a trace of self-consciousness she hadn’t displayed at Tanaka’s.

Kate St. James

Zach didn’t mind. Despite that she’d inspired him to beat a hasty exit from Anticipators Anonymous, he wouldn’t rush her. When she wanted him, she’d let him know. If she had second thoughts, he could live with that, too. His body craved hers like he craved water during a scorching-hot climb, but his mind preferred she knew without a doubt that making love with him was exactly what she wanted. “What’s this?” She extracted a chewed toy from Lump’s maw. “Catnip mouse. Was one, anyway.” Zach sat beside her. The couch cushions creaked. “Aw. He needs a new one.” “He’d murder it in ten seconds. Damn thing thinks he’s a dog. You should have seen what he did to the coaster.” “Coaster?” She cradled Lump like a baby. One slender arm curved beneath the beast’s front paws while the other supported Lump’s cat butt, tail trailing. An image of her holding a chubby infant—Zach’s child—zapped through his mind. Man, he had it bad. He’d never visualized any woman holding his baby before. He’d never envisioned a baby, period. “The coaster you gave me at Danver’s,” he reminded her. Her gaze lowered. “Oh yeah. Right.” “Are you embarrassed?” “No.” She looked away. “Maybe.” She stroked Lump. “I was feeling brave that night.” Zach chuckled. “I’ll say.” “But that wasn’t the real me, Zach.” “Oh? Who is?”

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Several silent seconds passed. “I guess that was partly the real me.” Didn’t he know it. The wild part she concealed beneath her Teresa persona. He peeled the foil cap off the wine bottle. “You don’t need to hide who you are from me, babe.” He reached for the corkscrew. “I’m attracted to every part of you.” He inserted the stainless steel spiral and twisted it downward. “I want to know every part of you.” The spiral sank into the cork. He eased it out. The rich, plum-like aroma of merlot teased his nostrils. Her gaze monitored his actions. Again, she grew quiet. She kissed Lump’s head, and the cat’s motorcycle imitation kicked up a notch. “What did he do to it?” Christ, she was gorgeous. “Who?” And to what? “Lump. The coaster.” “Practically gnawed it in half. It’s probably under the couch by now.” “Why do you call him Lump?” Another diversionary question. She had a talent for them. “He was a black-as-coal kitten when I found him, so I called him Lump of Coal.” Zach poured the wine. “Eventually, I shortened the name to Lump.” Once the feline began resembling Marlon Brando. A bewitching smile graced her lips. “Zach, that’s sweet.” Returning her smile, he offered her a glass. She released the cat. Lump meowed and slunk into the kitchen. Tess sipped the merlot. “Mm, nice.” “Thanks, it’s one of my favorites.” He couldn’t stop staring at her—she was so beautiful. Her blue eyes captured the soft living room light in a way that brought out gray and impossibly light purple flecks when she sat this close. Her perfume was so

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subtle, he swore it had become part of her skin, and the tiny, twisted-gold hoops she often wore hung from her dainty earlobes. Pale freckles scattered across her upper chest, drawing his gaze to the tiny buttons lining her dress from neck to waist. The pearly sheen of the buttons beckoned his fingers to flick them open and discover the exquisite treasures beneath. He forced his gaze upward. A blush dusted her cheeks. “Remember last night, when I said you’d get yours?” she asked. “Definitely.” An emotion he couldn’t identify flickered in her eyes. Something was going on in her beautiful head, but he could no longer think through the haze of his need for her to figure it out. Not when her softly spoken words had him hard as a boulder. “Would you like it now?” she murmured. “Oh yeah.” Primal heat surged through him. He took her glass and set it alongside his on the coffee table. In the background, the blues guitar thrummed a melodic beat. The slow rhythm dug into Zach’s veins as he reached for the top button of her dress. His big fingers felt clumsy, but her nipples peaked beneath the floral-dotted fabric, her gaze luminous. He opened the first two buttons, revealing the tops of her pale pink bra. Unlatching the third button exposed her cleavage. Light freckles gave way to lush mounds of creamy skin yet to be kissed by the sun. Four, five, and he brushed back the dress, fully uncovering her bra cups. Her rosy nipples peeked through the translucent nylon, and he burned with the need to taste her. Not her breast through a fabric barrier, though, like he had last night.

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No, he wanted her mouth. Only the lips. Tender, soft, gentle. Six, seven, eight. He’d never undressed anyone so slowly. After undoing the tenth button, he stripped the dress off her shoulders and arranged the fabric around her upper arms like a shawl. Settling his mouth on hers, he placed a hand on her hip and cupped her breast with the other. Not kneading or caressing, just holding her there, absorbing her heartbeat. Wanting to pull it into him, feel it claim him, make her his. He feathered her lips with a light, brushing motion. She opened her mouth, straining to deepen the contact, but he resisted. For now, he only wanted this— the barest of touches, the lingering flavor of her sweetness. They had all night. They could take their time. Be mine. Suddenly, her lips trembled. She pulled away. “Zach? I need you to stop.” Tess’s heart squeezed with a tenderness she didn’t appreciate. She needed to end this insane reaction to Zach Halliday’s caresses now. Luckily, her request didn’t appear to insult him. Desire shone in his coffeetoned eyes. “You want me to stop?” His husky voice spiraled through her. “Or move on?” His fingers brushed her nipple as his hand fell away. She licked her lips. “I want…to move on. Right now, it feels like you’re in control. I need to feel like I am.” If they continued this gentle lovemaking, her emotions would betray her. She’d start thinking she felt things for him that would put her sex-for-sex’s-sake plan in jeopardy. Zach’s deep voice flowed like silk. “I’ll do whatever you ask.”

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“You’ll let me set the pace?” “In a heartbeat.” “And the mood?” “You can give me explicit directions if you’d like. Tender, wild, hot— however you want it. I’m about to burst out of my jeans.” She lowered her gaze to his bulge. The man speaks truth. She held her breath. She could definitely do this. Just focus on the sex. “Hot,” she replied. “Yes, absolutely. The hotter, the better.” “Tell me what you need,” he murmured. She hesitated. “Stand up.” He obliged. One leg touched the coffee table. “The table’s in the way,” Tess said. “Move aside a little.” He did so. “Now, take off your clothes.” She bit her bottom lip. “Please.” A sexy smile crooked his mouth. “Any preference which item goes first?” Her heart pounded. “Your shirt. Strip it off for me…nice and slow.” His hands plunged to the waist of his jeans. As the heavy background beat of the blues guitar strummed from the stereo, Zach tugged loose his polo shirt and slowly pulled it up. His torso stretched. His pectorals bunched as the shirt rode higher, exposing dark chest hair. His brown nipples puckered. The shirt covered his face, and his abdomen contracted. His loose-fitting jeans crept down his hips, revealing deeply tanned skin—and nothing else. Bonus. One less item to strip off. Needing more freedom of movement, Tess tugged her dress back onto her shoulders but left the placket unbuttoned. The fabric fell open on either side of

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her bra. Her rigid nipples remained exposed to his gaze through the see-through cups. Zach dragged off his shirt and tossed it to the floor. He gazed at her. “What next? And don’t take too long.” She smiled. “Your shoes.” She picked up her wine and sipped. The merlot pampered her taste buds while he toed off his loafers. “Now the jeans.” She drank her wine, blood humming as she swallowed. She tracked his slow movements—his fingers resting on the denim waistband, then working open the buttons top to bottom. With the first button, she glimpsed the bulging head of his thick erection. Her pulse tripped. She drew in a steadying breath, and his eyelids lowered. As his hands grazed his stiff flesh, his breathing roughened. He undid the last button and pushed the jeans down his hips. His magnificent cock sprang free. “Come here,” she whispered. She uncrossed her legs and set her wineglass within reach on the coffee table. He returned to the space between the couch and the coffee table. She trained her attention on his cock. If she looked up now and their gazes locked, she might lose her courage. “Closer.” She tugged her dress above her knees and spread her thighs. “Between my legs.” “I think I’m going to like this.” Sensual appreciation deepened his voice. As he stepped into position, the coarse hair sprinkling his strong climber’s legs grazed the insides of her thighs. Clit throbbing, she gazed at his erection. With her sitting and him standing, the head rested nearly level with her mouth. How handy.

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Visions of last night in the art-gallery closet assailed her. He’d dipped her musk in champagne and licked it off his fingers. She’d have her retribution—and everything else he’d denied her last night. She wrapped a hand around his cock, luxuriating in the contrasting textures of velvet skin and a steel-hard core. He moaned. Sitting up higher on the couch, she lowered her head and ran her tongue over the swollen tip. Her hair fell forward. Her scalp tingled as Zach tunneled his fingers through the strands. She reached around him for her wine, and his fingers dragged back through her hair. Desire stringing tight, she drew in a mouthful of warm wine. She grasped his erection again and quickly swallowed the wine. A fine coating of merlot lingered on her tongue. Sucking his cock into her mouth, she pushed her tongue down the groove of the protruding head and along the thick shaft. Hands in her hair again, he groaned. Not daring to look up, she pulled away and dipped her fingers in her halfempty glass. She massaged his cock with her wine-slick fingers then licked the wine off his skin. Tongue swirling, lips nipping. His moans vibrated down his body and into her mouth. “Babe.” His hips pumped. Tenderness engulfed her, and she shoved away the disturbing emotion. He was on the edge. Time to take him over. Not this way, though. She still wanted him deep inside her. She licked his erection base to head then sank back onto the couch. She looked up. His jaw clenched, his neck tendons taut. “Relax,” she said. “Drink your wine.” His hooded gaze consumed her. “Relax? Sorry, babe. Not possible.”

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“Well, don’t relax too much. But sit and drink.” She patted the couch. He groaned. “I want you undressed.” She shook her head. Baring her body felt too intimate this first time. “It’s my night—” her breath hitched “—and the dress stays on.” His eyebrows lifted. “Panties?” “They can come off…soon.” Satisfaction creasing his features, he nodded. Sitting beside her, he picked up his wine. After he’d sipped twice, she gestured for him to place the glass on the table. She pressed her hands to his shoulders, intending to coax him back onto the couch cushions. Instead, he wrapped his arms around her and hauled her forcefully down on top of him. Their mouths fused, the rich wine sweetening their kiss. Zach’s tongue thrust into her mouth, and need swelled within her. She wanted him. God, so much. His hands, his lips—everywhere. But she couldn’t lose control. She dared not risk it. As they kissed, he pushed up the skirt of her dress. “Let me,” she whispered. Standing, she shed her sandals and panties. His gaze riveted to her face. The heat of his stare loosened shivery sensations inside her. Ignoring the out-of-place longing, she retrieved her purse from beneath the coffee table and rummaged in it for the condoms she’d bought specifically for them. She tore open a packet and sheathed his strong cock. “Hop on,” he murmured. Gathering her dress around her waist, she straddled him on the couch. Her knees dug into the cool leather, her bare feet hanging over the cushions.

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He held her hips, palms hot on her skin as she hovered above his erection. He lowered one hand to position his cock at her wet entrance. He moved the head back and forth, back and forth, mercilessly teasing her. Then his hand stilled, and he waited. How she loved that he waited. Her dress draping his forearms, she placed her hands on his shoulders and slowly sank onto him. Rose up then sank farther. Deeper. Her inner muscles clenched him, and she gasped as her body stretched to accommodate his size. His groans reached her ears. A cry escaping her, she sank fully onto him. But she couldn’t move. Not yet. The pressure of his thickness was too intense, too new and glorious a sensation. Remaining motionless where they joined, she lowered her head for a kiss. His tongue claimed hers. His hands roved up and down her fabric-covered ribcage then inside the open bodice, searing her skin. He opened the front clasp of her bra. Her breasts bounced against his chest. She needed to move. Zach thumbed one nipple and electric currents shot to her clit. She rode him. His hips matched her pace, increasing the wonderful sensations. His fingers probed her intimate curls. Reaching down, she nudged them off their target. She needed to concentrate on his pleasure, or she’d shatter. Again, his fingers homed in on her clit. She bumped them away. His hips pumped, and she rocked on top of him. Her foot kicked out. Her toes hit a wineglass. It crashed onto the hardwood floor. Harsh tinkling rent the air. Panting, she broke the kiss. “Zach, your glass.” “Leave it.”

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“But—” “Did you cut your foot?” “No.” “Then leave it.” He continued pumping, eradicating her Suzy Homemaker tendencies. He cupped a breast and lifted it to his mouth. As his teeth grazed the sensitive nipple, she arched her back and rode him harder. Her clit met his pelvis just right. Every time his teeth grazed her nipple, heat and tension pulsed in her. She arched again, meeting his thrusts. All at once, it began happening. Too fast. Damn it, too soon. “St-stop.” Without manual stimulation, she’d hoped she could postpone her climax. “Stop?” Hazy sensuality laced his voice. “No, st-stay. No, stop. No, no, sta—” Too late. Clenching spasms rocked her body. Her orgasm gripped tight and refused to let go. “Staaayyyyy.” “Stay still?” “God, no.” “Good.” He pumped again, and a guttural sound ripped from his throat. He throbbed within her, hips lifting, arching. The intensity of his thrusts pushed him deeper, higher. Another thrust, and exquisite sensations burned between her legs to her toes. The waves crashed over her. “Zach!” It couldn’t be happening again. It never happened twice. Craving his mouth, she dropped her head forward. His lips found hers, and he kissed her until the ripples subsided. “Ohhh.” Resting her head on his shoulder, she struggled to regulate her breathing. He shifted beneath her, now semi-hard inside her.

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He brushed the hair off her face. The gentle motion prompted her to look at him. “Tess, sweetheart, that was fantastic.” “You’re telling me.” “This was a first for you, huh?” She blinked. It was that obvious she’d never before experienced multiple orgasms? “How did you know?” “Last night you said you’ve never talked during lovemaking.” Her heart racketed. She’d expected a studmuffin of Zach Halliday’s caliber to call their erotic pairing what it was—sex. He was probably being a gentleman, saying what most women wanted to hear. Lovemaking, sweetheart, darling, soul mate. But Tess wasn’t most women. She had an agenda—and the determination to succeed. “Well, there was the wineglass to contend with.” He chuckled. “We damn near came at the same time, too.” Guess she couldn’t have everything. “Something to work on.” “Demanding wench. Now?” “I’ll allow you thirty minutes to recuperate.” His hands glided up the sides of her dress. “As long as you’re trying with me and no one else, I’m happy.” “Agreed.” She didn’t want to share this remarkable man with any other woman. “We stay exclusive until…” While what they shared would eventually end, she couldn’t voice the prospect while he remained inside her. He possessed no such qualms. “Until we’re over.”

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High-pitched beeping woke Tess at eight a.m. She pounded her radio-alarm until the darn thing shut up. Exhaustion seeped through her pores. Also an exquisite soreness, thanks to Zach Halliday’s mind-blowing sexual techniques. She eyed the glowing, blue clock numbers. Eight blinked to 8:01 and then 8:02. Her lids drifted shut. Next time she checked, the clock displayed 8:23. Shit! If she didn’t spring to life, she’d lose her entire Sunday. She and Randi were meeting at noon for a shopping spree, and Tess wanted to do laundry and buy groceries first. Plus let Buddy out of his cage for some budgie recreation. After Randi racked up her credit card balance, Tess would head to the office and hack away at paperwork. She’d promised to meet Zach at his place for dinner at six. How would she accomplish her humongous to-do list on five hours’ sleep? She needed a boost. She glanced at the cell phone beside her radio-alarm, and her lips twitched. “I knew I left you in here for a reason.” Talking to electronics. Probably not healthy. Retrieving the cell, she accessed her contact list and pressed Zach’s home number. On the third ring, he answered. “Hey, babe. You’re not sleeping in?” Her nipples tightened in response to his sleep-husky voice. “I can’t. Remember the jam-packed schedule I mentioned last night?” “You mean the multitude of excuses about why you couldn’t stay over?” She burrowed beneath her cozy bedcovers. “Zach, if I’d stayed, we wouldn’t have slept.” “Maybe not. But you’d be here with me this morning.” “I can still be with you…in my mind. Don’t forget our agreement. Three times on Sunday.”

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His sensual laugh reverberated in her ear. “You want to have phone sex now?” She smiled. “Round one. Round two has to wait until after I see Randi. For number three, how about tonight, after I return from your place? I’ll fall asleep thinking about you.” “Sounds hot. But wouldn’t you rather get it on when we see each other later? We can touch each other instead of touching ourselves.” Sweetness invaded her chest. Closing her eyes, she murmured, “We can do that, too.” She slipped her free hand into her baby-doll bottoms. “Woman, you’ll be the death of me.” Her eyes drifted half-open. She brushed two fingers over her clit. “Can’t climax four times in the space of fifteen hours, Halliday?” “Believe me, babe, it won’t be a problem.” “I love a man who can rise to the occasion.” “Then you’ve hooked up with the right guy.” She sighed. “Are you hard?” She pinched her clit. Sensation zinged through her. “Honey, I’m always aroused in the morning.” She swirled a finger over her swollen nub, a tantalizing, teasing touch. “Tell me a story,” she whispered into her cell. “Are you in bed?” His deep voice seduced her. If she were with him, she’d cup his face and kiss him. “Yes. And I want you like crazy.” “What are you wearing?” Like she’d ruin the sexy mood by describing her ancient, daisy-flecked babydolls. “I’m naked. And feeling very, very hot.”

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He groaned. “You bet your sweet ass you’re naked, babe. You’re flat on your back on my bed. Your gorgeous legs are spread wide. Your pussy is spread wide, too. Your juices are soaking the sheets, because I’m holding your legs apart and I’m eating you.” Oh God, yes! He was eating her, devouring her with his mouth. An intimacy they hadn’t shared yet. Her vagina slickened as she imagined him parting her legs wider and wider. She was completely vulnerable, at his mercy. “Does that work?” he asked roughly. “It’s wonderful.” Zach. She desperately wanted to feel his mouth and tongue on hers. However, until she saw him later, their shared fantasy would suffice. “Good. Because I’m eating you like a starving man, babe. I’m nibbling your clit with gentle teeth…chewing your downy-soft pussy lips…parting them and licking between them. All around them. You taste like ambrosia. I could eat you forever.” Every time he said “eat”, her sensitive clit throbbed beneath her rapidly moving fingers. Her climax threatened to crest. Damn it, why did her orgasms sweep upon her so quickly lately? She yanked her hand out of her bottoms and tugged one nipple while Zach’s magic voice stimulated her clit. “I love to chew you, babe. It’s the first thing I plan to do when I see you tonight.” She moaned. In her mind, his dark head bobbed between her legs. Sensing her gaze, he glanced up, love shining in his— Whoa, back up! Not love shining. Lust shining. In his chocolate-brown eyes. Thrusting her hips, she rolled her nipple. Heat rushed between her legs. But what about his needs? She couldn’t hog all the pleasure.

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“Are you stroking yourself?” she whispered. “Oh yeah. I’m enjoying this fantasy so much, I can’t tell you. The more I eat you, the harder I grow.” She whimpered. “I’m squirming on your bed…and you realize I’m about to come. But I’m not ready yet. Zach, I’m not. I urge your head up. When I look at you, you know what I want. You turn on the mattress until your cock is near my mouth. I want to sixty-nine you, Zach. I’ve never wanted to do that with another guy. But you make me feel…more than anything, more than coming myself…I want your cock down my throat.” “Jesus.” “You are so big. I’ve never appreciated giving head before. But, with you, I love it. It feels incredibly sexy and intimate, and I get off on your pleasure. In my fantasy, I’m uber-talented. I don’t have a gag reflex. You can slide your big cock down my throat. I can take it all.” “Christ, babe, you’re good at this.” His ragged breathing puffed in her ear. She’d better be freaking fantastic at it. Because the more she concentrated on their raunchy talk, the less she worried about that silly idea of love shining in his eyes. She whispered, “I’m tugging your balls, Zach. Long, slow tugs in rhythm with the suction of my mouth. It’s driving you wild. You’re the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen.” “Your mouth feels amazing, Tess. But I want inside you.” “I need to have you there.” “Face-to-face. Kissing you. Holding you.” “Yes, yes!” In another instant, he filled her, his thick shaft driving in and out. She pushed her hand down her bottoms again. Three quick rubs and she soared. Fire

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sparked in her limbs as he thrust his way to orgasm, his sex noises erotic in her ear. He ended on a low moan. “Babe, I can’t wait until dinner. I have to see—” “Call you in a few hours.” Clicking End, she smiled.

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Chapter Fourteen

“This concludes my presentation for the annual Floretta House fundraiser.” Zach glanced around at the familiar faces of the charity’s board of directors gathered at the Halliday Enterprises boardroom table. “Questions?” The assembled men and women shook their heads. Zach’s father addressed the group. “Very well. All in favor of a formal black-and-white Christmas ball, raise your hands.” Nine hands lifted. “It’s unanimous,” Dad said. “Does anyone have further business to discuss?” More head-shaking and murmurs to the negative ensued. “Then I declare the August 31st board meeting for Floretta House adjourned. Thank you, everyone, for stealing time from your busy lives to devote to my favorite cause. I can’t tell you how much it means to me. The families of the women residing in Floretta House while undergoing cancer treatment appreciate it, too. Thanks to your efforts, the financial burden of their loved ones traveling to Vancouver to receive treatment continues to be eased.” Dad stood. The board members dispersed, a few exiting the room right away while others stopped at the snack table to visit. Stuffing the report into his briefcase, Zach looked at Ethan. “Thanks for allowing me the glory of presenting the information after you put it together.” He snagged his suit jacket off the chair back and shrugged it on. “Not a problem.” His brother stood. “Besides, you did the leg work and you’re better at public speaking than I am.”

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Zach glanced at their father, who now spoke to L.G. by the open boardroom door. “It’s amazing how highly Dad still thinks of Mom after sixteen years without her. He never let us forget her, Eth.” His brother nodded. “It’s just as incredible that Olivia doesn’t resent his feelings. Remember Joan What’s-Her-Face? That Dad fondly remembers Mom drove her batty.” “I think Joan was batty. Olivia suits him way better.” A widow with her own good marriage behind her, Olivia Trent brought out the same gentleness in their father that their mother had evoked. “I’m glad they’re happy,” Ethan said. “Me, too.” Zach walked his brother to the door. Their father’s eyebrows lifted. “Boys, a moment?” “Hey, Dad.” Zach nodded. “L.G.” “Excellent presentation, Zachary,” L.G. remarked. “Thanks.” Zach smiled. Dad clapped Zach and Ethan on the shoulders. “You boys did a wonderful job. I love to see my two sons working side by side. Of course, the best situation is when all three of us pull together as a team.” Zach’s smile waned. Soon, his work for Floretta House would surpass his involvement

in

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Unfortunately, the news of his departure would disappoint his father. Floretta House was another matter. Zach would bust his ass for the charity until he died. A funny look pinched Ethan’s face. “You know what they say, Dad. There’s no I in TEAM.” “In certain cases, son, someone needs to take the lead.”

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“If that someone gets their butt burned, let’s not say somebody else didn’t warn them.” Zach held up a hand. “Now, you two, whatever’s happening at Halliday, leave it there,” he said in the same tolerant tone their father had employed hundreds of times with him and Ethan. “Tonight was about Mom and every woman in B.C. fighting the cancer battle.” His father tugged in a breath. “Zach, you’re the voice of reason tonight.” “I’ll pass the project back to the event planner. It’s a great fundraiser for Floretta House.” His father nodded. “Your mom would have been proud of the work you boys have done.” Ethan said stiffly, “Zach, I’ll walk you out.” They headed for the elevator. Alone with Eth in the compartment, Zach flexed his fingers on his briefcase handle. “Want to get a drink?” he asked. He had time to kill before seeing Tess. “Thanks, but I’m wiped.” Eth jabbed the button for the Halliday parking garage, and the elevator swooped downward. “I’m worried about your stress levels, bro. What happened back there?” “What do you mean?” “You know what I mean. With Dad.” “Nothing. Just Halliday bullshit.” “Since when have you called Halliday business bullshit? I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again. You work too hard. You need to—” “If you say get laid—” “Why, do you have something against sex?” Tess certainly didn’t. On Sunday, they’d actually accomplished the two rounds of phone sex before dinner. And, when she’d arrived at his place, he’d feasted on her first, as

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promised. Then had made fast, hard love to her, which had drained them both…until phone sex round number three after she’d returned home. His dick twitched at the memory. He’d never met a woman with such an active sex drive. It practically surpassed his. Ethan scowled. “Of course I have nothing against sex. Don’t be an ass.” “Sorry. Just looking out for your welfare.” Silence swelled between them. The elevator slowed to a halt. As the door opened, Ethan blew out a breath. “To tell you the truth, I’m thinking of seeing someone.” Zach flung him a glance. “For what?” “A woman. Christ, Zach, I’m thinking of seeing a woman.” Eth strode out of the elevator. “Shit, by the ominous sound of your voice, I thought you meant a doctor.” They walked toward their parking stalls. “Who are you into?” Ethan’s upper lip curled, and Zach laughed. “Let me guess. You don’t want to be into this chick.” The dusty scent of the garage hung in the air as his voice echoed off concrete. “She’s not my type.” “Remember what you said in Danver’s. You and your type never work out. But you and this woman might.” Ethan sighed. “That’s what worries me.”

Zach sat behind the uncluttered desk he rarely used, reviewing Floretta House documents. At 11:20 p.m., the Halliday building was empty aside from the night cleaning crew, which was scheduled to remain on the floor below his for the next two hours. The fluorescent light competed with the lamps glowing

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on the end tables flanking the small visitor’s sofa against one wall, providing an intimate touch in the midst of the stark corporate setting. The stage was set. All he needed was Tess. Minutes later, a light rap sounded at the door. Zach shoved the Floretta House file into his desk drawer and flipped open the latest issue of Business Mogul. “Yes?” “Zach?” The door creaked, and a vision of beauty and grace entered. “The key card and number-pad combination worked,” Tess whispered. “You’re certain you can fix the security recording?” She blinked. “You’re wearing a suit?” “You may come in,” Zach responded in an authoritative tone. “However, Ms. Sheridan, as your superior, I don’t believe it’s in your best interests to ask questions when I haven’t given you permission to speak.” She smiled. “I’m your employee?” “If you can’t even recall that you work in my secretarial pool, we have a bigger problem than I anticipated.” A big problem, indeed. His cock stiffened in his trousers, and the damn tie choked him. However, he wouldn’t remove one stitch of the hated business suit until he had her writhing beneath him. She set her purse on the sofa. “Mr. Halliday, I apologize. I forgot my place.” He grunted. “Shut off the light.” She thumbed the switch. Aside from the flickering lamps, darkness shrouded his office. He loved how she eased into the fantasy without a lot of coaching. After their hot lovemaking over the weekend, he’d wondered if she’d welcome a little sexy role-playing. He pushed out of the chair. “The last time I saw you in this office, you were under this desk, allowing some cretin to touch you through your panties.” All right, it had been her office. Close enough.

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Her eyebrows rose. “That wasn’t you?” “I’m your boss. How dare you accuse me.” He strolled toward her. “No, Ms. Sheridan, you lowered yourself by getting it on with some mail-room lackey. However, now that you mention it, from this point forward, if anyone touches you in this office, it should be me.” She stepped back. “I’m sorry, Mr. Halliday. I’ll never let another man touch me again. Will you punish me?” Excitement glittered in her eyes. Zach fought a smile. “I certainly won’t reward you.” Depending on one’s perspective. Reaching her, he unbuttoned her blouse with rough movements and parted the silky panels on either side of her breasts. Her nipples puckered against her flimsy bra, and desire socked him in the gut. He pinched her pert nipples through the lace. Her eyes half-closed in the lamp-lit darkness. “I didn’t lock the door,” she murmured. “Planning your escape?” “No. I’ll take what’s coming to me.” “Good.” He pinched her nipples again, and she moaned. He unclasped her front bra hook. The lingerie fell away, revealing her round breasts. “Play with your tits.” He stared at the taut peaks until she placed her fingers on them. He looked up. Her bottom lip caught between her teeth, she gazed deeply into his eyes and rolled her stiff nipples. His chest clenched. “Perfect.” Moving behind her, he unzipped her skirt. Bare flesh seared his hands—she wasn’t wearing panties.

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“Laundry day?” he muttered. “Tease.” Hands still on her breasts, she tweaked her nipples. “Forgive me, Mr. Halliday. I—” “Quiet.” He whisked her skirt off her hips. As the fabric sagged at her feet, he thrust a finger into her pussy from behind…and found her dripping. She groaned. His erection strained against his pants. “God, you’re wet. What were you doing before coming here, huh? Who were you thinking about? Answer me, Ms. Sheridan.” He shoved his finger in and out of her hot pussy. She gasped. “Mr. Halliday—you, sir. I was thinking of you.” His jaw clenched. “Go on. And it had better be the truth.” “All these years I’ve worked for you, I’ve wanted you to fuck me.” He stroked deeper, and she panted. “I dream about it every night. I get myself off thinking about you. I’m not ashamed to admit it.” “Very good.” Abruptly, he withdrew his finger. She released a tiny cry. Heart booming beneath the restrictive business suit, Zach moved around to her front again. He lifted her hands off her breasts then peeled back her blouse and bra. Her clothing plopped onto the floor. Legs trembling, she stepped out of the skirt. Backing up, Zach glanced over her from head to toe. Naked except for her high heels, his beautiful Tess was sex personified. Her pink mouth glistened, and her strawberry curls tumbled down her back and over her full breasts. Red-gold strands grazed her erect nipples. His authoritative demeanor fled. “I can’t believe how beautiful you are,” he whispered. “I feel the same about you.”

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Two weeks ago, in her office, he’d said he wanted hot, messy desk sex. However, with the soft light of the lamps suffusing the room and the mesmerizing scent of her faint perfume and honeyed arousal, he wanted to make love with her slowly and tenderly. Zach Halliday going for the romance. How unlike him. “Follow me.” He tucked her hand in his, and they stepped to the side of his desk. He swept the business magazine onto the floor. “Aw, I thought you’d spank me with it.” He chuckled. “Maybe another time.” She hesitated. Then bent and picked up the magazine. She passed it to him. “Mr. Halliday, I don’t mean to question your authority, but how else will I learn?” His dick bucked. She really wanted him to spank her? Without speaking, she leaned over the desk, her face to one side, her arms above her head and her legs parted. Her pale ass quivered. He adjusted his erection in his pants. Jesus, the woman took her role-playing seriously. He rolled the magazine into a firm tube. “How hard do you want it?” “I’ll leave that up to you. Just keep in mind, Mr. Halliday, I’ve never done this before.” He’d play it light and teasing, then. He wasn’t into pain. He moved closer. His trouser leg grazed the back of her lightly freckled thigh. Her ass trembled again, and he cupped her mound with his free hand. Hot moisture dampened his palm. He slipped two fingers inside her and slowly slid them in and out. “Ohh,” she breathed. “That’s one nice spanking.”

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He removed his fingers. He rubbed the rolled magazine between her legs and along her wet slit. She moaned. He trailed the glossy-paged tube along her ass crack. Pages fluttered open, and he fanned them over her cheeks and pussy. Her juices drenched the pages. He flicked the magazine against one cheek then the other. Her ass lifted toward the gentle sensation, and he repeated the flicking motions over and over. “Zach…I’d like you to punish me another way now.” “With a quick, hard fuck?” “Please.” So much for slow and tender. He tossed the magazine onto the office chair and unzipped his trousers. Boxer-briefs confined his aching erection. He shucked the pants and underwear to the carpet. Another moment later, a condom hugged his stiff cock. Still wearing the suit jacket, dress shirt and tie, he plunged into her from behind. She cried out. Damn it! He stilled. “Tess? Was I too rough?” “No, I love it. I love how deeply you fill me.” Fantastic. Because he loved it, too. Cock buried to the hilt, he gripped her hips and stepped back a few centimeters, coaxing her ass off the desk edge with their bodies joined. Her tummy rested on the desk, gaining him finger access to her lubricated clit. The urge to stroke her to orgasm barreled through him. He would indulge himself. Soon. Holding her hips, he withdrew his erection until only the engorged head remained buried in her. He paused a second then slammed home. “Ah! Oh! Yes!”

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He repeated the maneuver, dragging out his cock to the tip then plunging it back in. With a slowness that tortured him at first. Then faster and faster. Every time his dick pumped to her womb, she gasped. Every time he slid the head to her entrance, she sighed. He stared at the arousing sight of his cock hammering her neatly trimmed pubic curls beneath the hem of his buttoned-down shirt. Her pussy lips plumped with each thrust, signaling her oncoming climax. She murmured his name, and he lifted his gaze. She twisted her upper body, exposing one breast. She pinched the nipple. “Are you close, babe?” His orgasm burned in his balls. “Yesss.” Her eyes drifted open and shut, her hips meeting his pelvis with every thrust. “What would you like, love?” He pumped. “For you to touch me.” “Where?” “My clit. Please, Zach. I just need a light touch.” Growling, he swept one hand to her clit. The other firm on her hip, he massaged her nub in rhythm with his pumping. The delicate skin of her spine glowed, and her red-gold curls burnished to copper in the dim lamplight. The heady scent of their lovemaking blossomed between them. She called out his name as her sweet cunt squeezed his cock. With one last thrust, he poured himself into her, his heart and every cell in his body exploding. He sagged on top of her, careful not to crush her, remaining quiet until their breathing slowed. Brushing her hair off her shoulder, he kissed her neck. A satisfied sigh drifted from her mouth. “Thank you, Mr. Halliday. I needed that.”

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“You’re welcome. You may return to the secretarial pool now.” “Sir, may I ask, were you satisfied with my performance?” “I haven’t decided. Shall we schedule another employee review for next week?” “Make it tomorrow night, boss, and you’re on.”

“What’s happening with Studly?” Chloe asked. “Are you bouncing the mattress with him yet?” Tess set her tiny espresso cup on the coffeehouse table. “Chloe, shhh, someone might hear us.” “It’s five o’clock, Tee. This place is noisier than Mt. St. Helens when she blows. All the suits craving their pre-dinner caffeine fix, you know.” Chloe sipped her latte. “Besides, I stayed after my shift so we could catch up.” Tess drank her espresso. The strong, thick coffee shot her a pick-me-up jolt. “Sorry I asked you to stay late, Chlo, but I haven’t seen you in ages and I crave the caffeine. The firm’s coffee sucks compared to Lovin’s, and I’ll be working until after midnight.” A duplication of yesterday. She needed to plow through more Crockett’s paperwork. A grin split Chloe’s animated features. “Working, huh? On Zach Halliday?” “No.” For once. Tess had “worked on” Zach four out of the last five nights. Their time together had been wonderful, but even the most devoted “employee” needed a break now and then. She could barely keep her eyes open, she was so tired. “On the deal for his father and brother. Phil Renfrew is looking too smug these days. I can’t help feeling like he’s using the acquisition to try and get one up on me.” “Kind of like how you’re trying to use it to get one up on him?”

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“I can’t have him scoring points with Mr. Greenburg while I’m lagging behind.” “Ah, but is ol’ Phil getting some twice a night? I doubt it. You, on the other hand, are, my friend.” Tess stared down the evil psychic. “I’m not having sex twice a night.” Only some nights. “But you are getting some, aren’t you? Tess, you look fantastic. I like it when you wear your hair down like this rather than up all the time. Your complexion’s soft and glowing. Please don’t tell me worrying about your job has this effect on you.” Tess smiled. “I look good?” “You look amazing. It’s sickening. If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’re in love.” “It’s a good thing you know better, then.” Chloe’s head cocked. “Do I?” Agh, Chloe could worm the truth out of a habitual liar. If Tess didn’t toss her a bone about the physical nature of her relationship with Zach, Chloe would continue drawing the wrong conclusions. Because Tess was not in love with Zach Halliday. Lust and the occasional warm, mushy feeling wasn’t love. “You know, some day I’ll challenge you not to jump into bed too quickly with a guy you have the hots for. We’ll see how you like being subjected to all this scrutiny.” Chloe laughed. “As if you haven’t issued your share of bets. Besides, only one dare at a time. You can’t change the rules on me now.” “This from the rule-changer of all time?” Tess shook her head. “We’re doing it like rabbits. Happy?”

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“Ecstatic! How is he?” “That’s where I draw the line, Chlo.” “Really? If he’s no more to you than a sex toy, Tee, why not spill? We’ve always shared everything, especially about guys.” Tess narrowed her gaze. Foiled again. “Huh, Tess, huh, Tess, huh?” Chloe had her Spanish Inquisition torture routine down pat. “Is Zach Halliday a studmuffin of the prime variety or not?” Tess drank her espresso. What was it about Zach that she hesitated revealing personal details to Chloe? In the past, they’d dished about sexual quirks, annoying boyfriend habits…shoe and hand size. Yet, with Zach, Tess wanted to hoard everything inside her. Almost as if she were afraid that if she talked about what she and Zach shared, she might lose it. But how could she lose something she didn’t truly have? Her relationship with Zach was about sex, nothing else. Well, sex and also friendship. She had to tell Chloe something, though, or the fiend would start thinking Tess felt more for Zach than was healthy. She divulged with more enthusiasm than necessary, “Oh, Chloe, he’s definitely prime studmuffin. I’ve never met anyone near as talented in the bedroom.” Not that they’d actually done it on a bed yet, discounting the phone sex. “Stupendous! So you have, what, somewhere between four and five weeks to go? You don’t fall in love with him during that time, and you’re home free. If you can do it. I’m still not convinced you can.” Chloe picked up her latte. “When are you seeing him again?” “We’re having dinner at his place tomorrow then Saturday we’re touring the PNE. Monday’s the last day, and I haven’t been this summer.” The Pacific

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National Exhibition ran from mid-August until Labor Day, the first Monday in September. “Sounds fun. I love the fair. Gonna ride the Hellevator? I dare you.” “I’m a wild woman now. I just might.” Chloe’s gaze cut away. For a moment, pleasurable surprise etched her features. Then she plunked her latte on the table, and a dollop of foam slid down the big cup. “You don’t think I can handle the Hellevator?” Tess asked. “It’s not the ride. He’s here.” Her heart thumped. “Zach?” “No,” Chloe whispered. “The Suit. He hasn’t come in since before that day in Stanley Park. Jesus, I think I’m gonna cream my jeans.” Tess laughed. “I thought you renamed him The Shorts.” “I reconsidered. He suits The Suit. I’ve only seen him in shorts once.” Devilish enjoyment whipped through Tess. What suit-wearing man could ruffle Chloe Nichols to such an extent? She was allergic to Type A’s of the masculine persuasion. “Shit, he’s coming over,” Chloe whispered. “Maybe he wants you to fix him a latte. Or maybe he wants your llllovin’.” Tess lingered her tongue over the L. However, her play on the coffeehouse name didn’t register with Chloe. “Now he’s going to the counter. Phew, that was close.” “Too bad.” The rear view of a familiar figure entered Tess’s range of vision. She snickered. “You’re kidding.” She pointed to the man. “He’s The Suit?” Chloe glanced and nodded. “Hot, huh?” “Yeah, if you like them taller and with light brown eyes.” “What are you talking about?”

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“Chloe, that’s Ethan, Zach’s older brother.” Chloe’s eyes popped. “He’s a Halliday?” “If he’s anything like Zach, he’s a regular vacation.” Covering her eyes, Chloe groaned. “Great. Not only have I been fantasizing about a suit, but a rich one at that.” Sympathy stabbed Tess. “Aw, Chlo, just because your rich father was a scumbag doesn’t mean all wealthy men are.” “Sure it does. Haven’t you read Freud?” “Enough to know that you need to get over this aversion.” “Next millennium.” “You can’t hide from him, Chlo. If he sees me, he’ll probably say hello. At any rate, I can’t ignore him. His father is the firm’s biggest client.” Chloe peeked from between spread fingers. “You don’t have to ignore him. I have a sudden compulsion to go to the can. Talk to him while I’m gone.” Tess laughed. “Chloe, brainwave,” she half-whispered. “Why not go after Ethan? Get your own sex life, stop hassling me about mine, and work through your father fixation at the same time.” Chloe groaned. “You’re cruel.” “But brilliant.” “Tess, no.” “Hmm, I don’t know, Chloe.” “I do. Please help me escape, Tee. I’ll forever be indebted to you.” “Okay, why not?” Tess checked Ethan’s position in the serving counter lineup. Still three people back. “On one condition.” “Anything,” Chloe muttered. “Other than the father thing, you sicko. And hurry.”

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Tess tapped her finger forcefully on the table. “You don’t interfere or ask any more questions about my relationship with Zach. When September is over, I’ll report in. Until then, my sex life is my own.” Chloe’s head stayed low. Only one hand masked her face now. “When have I interfered?” “When you gave him my real phone number? When you wouldn’t hang up when you called and he was at my place? Either of those episodes ring a bell?” “Tess, you should be grateful. At least you’re getting some.” “You could be, too, if you weren’t so stubborn. No more interference. That’s my condition.” “Crud, you’re a tough negotiator. You don’t have to worry about that Phil creep getting the junior partnership. Your boss would be nuts to pass you over.” She pushed back her chair. Her gaze narrowed. “Wait. What if you do fall in love with Studly, but won’t tell me?” “I’d tell you.” If her sex-for-sex’s-sake plan failed, she’d be so mortified she’d need her best friend’s support and consolation. Her plan wouldn’t fail, though. It was impossible. Overachievers never failed.

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Chapter Fifteen

Ethan accepted his macchiato from the woman at the serving counter. “Thanks.” His excuse for dropping into Whole Latte Lovin’ in hand, he turned toward the table where the object of his obsession had been talking to Teresa Sheridan. He blinked. Teresa now sat alone. Had her friend absconded on him again? Undeterred, he strolled to the table. Teresa wiggled her fingers hello. “Good afternoon, Teresa. How are you?” “Wonderful. Yourself?” “Couldn’t be better,” Ethan fibbed. Experiencing an explosive chemistry with a woman like Teresa or Allison Maynard would suit him far more than his disturbing hang-up on the brunette. However, since his life was hell-bent on going to pot, he figured he’d take a hint from his brother and enjoy the stirring. Teresa gestured for him to sit. “I’m having a break before returning to the office.” “The Crockett’s due diligence?” Ethan asked as he sat, and she nodded. “Well, don’t work too late. I understand you’re doing a good job.” “Really?” “Yes. Lawrence talks to my father all the time. Your boss praises your efforts. So does Virginia Winslow.” Ethan wouldn’t reveal that he’d also spoken to Zach. It was a moot point. Lawrence’s and Virginia’s comments had eased his misgivings.

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Relief traced her elegant features. “Thank you for telling me that, Ethan. At my level, I need the validation.” Ethan smiled. He liked her. “No problem.” He sipped his macchiato. “Where’s your friend?” The brunette’s latte cup remained on the table. “Chloe?” He paused. “That’s her name?” “Yes. Chloe Nichols. She’s the manager here and my best friend since we were kids.” Chloe. Her name was out of the ordinary—like the woman. Chloe Nichols…Chloe Halliday. The coffee scorched his tongue, and he jerked. Don’t go there. He just wanted some stress-relieving fun, not a life partner. “Um, yes, her,” he mumbled. An amused expression curved Teresa’s lips. “What’s so funny?” She spread her hands. “You seem nervous.” He was! Asking perky Rachel Hobbs to his first high-school dance had felt less awkward. “Um, yeah. Teresa, can I ask you something personal about Chloe?” He scratched his jaw. “This sounds juvenile, but doesn’t she like me?” “She likes you, all right.” “I’ve been coming here for weeks. She served me a couple of times, and everything seemed fine. Since then, whenever I try talking to her, she disappears.” Teresa chuckled. “Chloe is a remarkable person. A great friend. She’s just a little different. And, how do I put this? She’s shy around men who wear suits.” He glanced down at his custom-tailored jacket. “Why?”

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“It’s ridiculous, but it’s her story to tell.” “How will I hear it if she runs every time I see her?” “She can’t run now. She’s in the ladies’ room.” “I can’t go in there.” “Chloe’s the only woman to enter it since you arrived. I’ve been keeping track.” Teresa smiled. “Ask Frank for the Wet Floor sign and hang it on the doorknob. Customers aren’t allowed in the washrooms while they’re being cleaned.” “Who’s Frank?” “The server with the goatee. Tell him you’re The Suit and you desperately need to speak to Chloe, but she’s hiding in the can. If you specify ‘The Suit’, Frank will help you.” Ethan tightened his grip on his macchiato cup. Chloe discussed him with her employees and referred to him as The Suit—a starched shirt, silk tie, some wingtips, and a briefcase? He had more going on than his attire, damn it. He scraped back his chair. “Thanks.” Chloe paced the ladies’ room, biting a thumbnail. Last time she’d peered out the door, The Suit—no, Ethan Freaking Halliday—was sitting and talking to Tess. Would he never leave? The door swooshed open. Thankful the L-shaped room concealed her pacing, Chloe whipped to the sinks and pumped liquid soap into her palms. No different than if she’d just exited a stall. Footsteps rounded the corner. Chloe shoved her hands beneath the motiondetecting faucet. Water sprayed her capri pants. Choose a damn stall already, she telepathed to Uncertain Chick.

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The footsteps echoed again, moving behind her. Chilly goose bumps dotted her arms, and she lifted her gaze to the washroom mirror. Uncertain Chick didn’t exist. However, one-hundred-eighty-or-so pounds of gorgeous male clearly did. Tall, leanly muscled, with Johnny Depp coloring and fuck-me eyes. Ethan Halliday. Father of her unborn children. Gazing at her reflection in the washroom mirror. “The men’s room is across the hall,” she said. He pushed his hands into his trouser pockets. “I know.” Pulse scampering, she reached for a paper towel. The automatic faucet shut off. “Can I help you?” she asked his reflection. “Answer a question.” “What?” He stood less than a meter away, masculinity filtering off him in waves. Her disloyal ovaries curtsied. “Why did you run from me in Stanley Park ten days ago? And why do you disappear whenever I enter this place?” He believed in getting to the point. Normally, she did, too. But right now embarrassment at her childish behavior seared her. “How did you know I was in the ladies’?” “Teresa told me.” That female Benedict Arnold. “Did she say anything else?” “Yes, she asked me to relay a message—payback is a bitch.” His smile exposed pearly whites she’d love to slick with her tongue. She dried her hands and trashed the paper towel. “Chloe, this running has to stop,” he said.

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Well, well, Tess had also provided her name. Regardless, Chloe agreed with Ethan. No more running. She had to face the facts. She was insanely, absurdly, inexplicably drawn to the man. He hadn’t even touched her breasts, and she wanted to drag him into the nearest stall and crawl onto his naked and hopefully very aroused lap. However, something else lurked beneath the most compelling attraction she’d ever experienced. It didn’t make one speck of sense that her soul had tattooed FOREVER on a man she barely knew. But the bone-deep surety existed all the same. “Ethan…” Contentment lit his fawn-brown eyes. “Teresa mentioned my name.” “Her friends call her Tess.” Chloe drew in a breath. “You’re right about the running. I won’t do it again.” Confusion marred his handsome face. “Why did you ever?” “Because, you scare me.” Her cheeks heated. “It’s not like I thought you’d attack me in the park or anything. But there’s something between us. A weird connection. That scares me.” “Generally, when two people are attracted to one another, there’s a connection.” “That’s not what I mean. I’m attracted to you. But there’s more.” “Chloe, I want to ask you out. Just a date. I promise, nothing scary. It’s not like I’m getting down on one knee and begging you to bear my children.” That’s what you think. She stepped toward him. “Ethan, let me demonstrate. Shake my hand.” “Like we’re strangers—?” “Meeting for the first time.” She hadn’t the foggiest what she intended her stunt to prove, but intuition booted her forward.

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He extended a hand. Nerves hopping, she grasped it. His strong fingers swept her knuckles, and a vibrant shock shot through her. Eyes popping, she let go. “Feel that?” Glancing at his palm, he muttered, “Static.” “From a tile floor?” “People static. My hands are dry.” “Call it what you want. You can’t deny that our chemistry’s amazing.” “I want amazing chemistry with the women I date.” Women. As in plural. The poor, deluded man. He quite simply had no idea that once they started down the path of life together, it would take a thousand guests shouting objections at their traditional church wedding to separate them.

Yawning, Tess unlocked her apartment door. Despite that her watch displayed 1:45 a.m., all was right in her world. She’d dug a huge dent in the Crockett’s paperwork tonight. A few hours of uninterrupted sleep and she’d work even harder tomorrow, saving Friday night and all of Saturday for alone time with Zach. She missed him. Not only the incredible sex, but how easily he prompted her to laugh and the enthusiasm in his eyes when he updated her on the renovations to the warehouse site for Climbing The Walls. They got along as well as if they’d known each other for years. An off-kilter sensation nagged at her as she switched on the kitchen light and plopped her keys and purse on the counter. A chirp trilled from the dining area. She glanced at the budgie cleaning a claw on his play perch.

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“Buddy?” She walked to the perch, and he hopped onto her outstretched finger. “You little Houdini,” she cooed, stroking his power-blue feathers. “How did you escape?” “It was me, Tess.” Chloe’s sleepy voice drifted from the living room. “Sorry. I was lonely, so I let him out of his cage.” The lamp beside the couch snapped on, illuminating her best friend. Chloe rubbed her eyes and swung her sandaled feet off the sofa. A blanket snuggled her shoulders. “Is this a surprise attack to give me hell about trapping you in the washroom with Ethan?” Tess asked. “You wouldn’t answer my cell, so I used my key.” Chloe sat up, crossing her arms. “Explain yourself.” Tess returned the chirping budgie to his cage. “I’m sorry,” she said without conviction. She pulled off her high heels and sat on the couch beside her friend. “You sicced him on me! What am I supposed to do now?” “Come on, you deserved it.” Tess rubbed an aching heel. “You’ve salivated after him for weeks, and you haven’t dated in months. You’re always after me to get a life. Get your own, girlfriend.” “I know I deserved it. There’s something I haven’t told you, though.” “What?” Tess’s gaze shifted to her hardcover Anne Gheddes photography book on the coffee table. An unfamiliar paperback crowned the glossy pages open to portraits of babies and blossoms. “What’s this?” She reached for the paperback. “Nothing.” Chloe snatched the book and stuffed it under the blanket. “Chloe, what are you reading?” “No. You’ll think I’m nuts.” “I already think you’re nuts. Now give it.”

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“Tess—” “Give.” Chloe passed her the book, and Tess read the title. How to Tell if Your Biological Clock is Ticking or You Need to Get a Cat: A Savvy Woman’s Guide to Planning and Conceiving a Child. “Shit, you’re not pregnant?” Chloe winced. “No, but I think I want to be.” “What?” Tess practically screeched. “You’d never have a baby outside of marriage! After what your mom went through—” “Who said anything about outside of marriage?” “You want to get married and have kids? When did this happen?” Chloe released a heavy sigh. “I wanted to tell you, but the idea seemed so stupid. Me, a husband and children? I tried to ignore the yearnings, but by spring they were worse than ever, so I vowed—” “Chloe, breathe.” “—that I wouldn’t date for six months. Because you know what happens when I start seeing a guy.” Tess nodded. “You have sex.” “Usually, too early in the relationship—” “Leading to tons of complications—” “That result in an inevitable breakup.” “Oh!” Tess clued in. “Ethan asked you out.” Misery carved Chloe’s face. “I said yes.” Tess tossed the book onto the coffee table. “Chloe, that’s great.” “Are you insane? He’s everything I shouldn’t want. Yet I feel like we’re meant to be together. That once we start dating, that’s it. We’ll get married, have kids,

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have freaking grandchildren, Tee. How can I feel this way about the guy already? Am I some psycho who wants to get hurt like my mom did?” Tess squeezed her friend’s chilly hands. “Sweetie, you have a psychology degree. You know as well as I do that just because your father abandoned your mother doesn’t mean that Ethan or any other guy will hurt you.” “But ever since meeting him, I’ve felt this strange bond. Yet we’ve barely spoken more than a few sentences to each other.” “It’s called love at first sight,” Tess murmured. Envy spun inside her. “How can I want a future with a guy I haven’t even dated? It’s too fast. It’s crazy.” “Okay, so you had a premonition that you and Ethan have a future. You don’t have to marry him next week, Chloe. You probably shouldn’t even tell him how you feel. Remember what I said in Lovin’. Date him but don’t have sex with him. If it helps, I’ll dare you not to.” Chloe shook her head. “No. No dares, and no more bets. You’re right, I can’t sleep with him. If my instincts are correct and this is the man I’m destined to spend my life with, I’m not beginning the relationship with lies.” Tess snorted. “Yet it’s fine for me to deceive Zach?” “You don’t have to keep sleeping with him, Tee. I’m sorry I dared you to go after him.” Her heart hammered. “Don’t be sorry. I want to keep sleeping with him.” She released Chloe’s hands. “If you hadn’t dared me to go after a guy, or if I’d chosen someone other than Zach, when Ethan saw us today, I wouldn’t have sent him into the bathroom after you. You’d still think of him as The Suit and continue avoiding him. You accepted a date with Ethan as a result of our bet. Fate led him to you, Chloe.” “Like fate led you to Zach?”

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“I wouldn’t go that far. My relationship with Zach is about sex. No marriage premonitions here.” Her neck prickled. “We’re having dinner and seeing a movie next week. That’s as far off as I could reasonably procrastinate. Tess, what if Ethan asks me back to his place? If I ask him to mine? You know how quickly I lose control when a hot guy touches my boobs. I can’t even kiss a man without the damn things getting in the way. Ethan will make contact with them whether he wants to or not. His damn chest will arouse them!” Tess laughed. “Yeah, it’s real funny. How will I stop myself from attacking him then?” “Wait here.” Tess rose. “I have the perfect thing.”

Tess’s heart clawed her throat as Zach led her away from the Hellevator. Damn Chloe for planting the idea that she could handle the twenty-story thrill ride that yo-yoed to earth at speeds no human should ever endure. She’d barely survived the PNE’s famous wooden roller coaster, which she’d only ridden two other times in her life. “Oh. My. Stomach. I think I left it ten stories up there.” Zach clasped her hand. “The ride was great, huh? Did you open your eyes?” “That was the problem. If I’d kept them closed, I might not have screamed the whole way up and down. And up. And down.” The terrifying ride had popped them in the air like champagne corks. Picturing the way her butt had bounced off the buckled-in seat on the upswing rolled waves of nausea through her. “That was some scream, babe. You started with an F when we shot off and I heard a K near the end.”

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“Sorry.” Her head swam. “I need to sit down.” He looked at her. “Are you feeling okay?” “I shouldn’t have pigged out on cotton candy ten minutes ago.” Concern lit his eyes. “Babe, I told you not to eat before the ride. I thought you were kidding when you said you didn’t feel well, but the Hellevator really scared you.” He escorted her to a bench near a concession stand, his large hand gentle on her elbow. They both wore shorts and T-shirts, and the September sun blazed high in the cornflower-blue sky. Happy-go-lucky fair-goers strolled past as the scents of popcorn, hot dogs and sickly sweet cotton candy migrated from the concession stand. Stomach lurching, Tess collapsed on the bench. “This might not be the best spot to sit. The smells…” “I’ll buy water and we’ll find another bench. Put your head between your legs.” He coaxed her to lean forward, his hand warm on her shoulder. Tenderly, he rubbed her back while her ponytail dangled over her nose. Tess groaned. Lovely. If she tossed her cookies within view of her studmuffin, she might as well abandon hope of becoming a bona fide wild woman, or at least restrict her adventures to the emotionally safe boundaries of the bedroom. Zach left. Moments later, he returned. Sitting beside her, he pressed a cool, water-soaked napkin to the back of her neck. “Zach, that feels like heaven.” “Good.” He brushed the tiny hairs at her nape. “Want to sit somewhere else?”

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“I’m fine.” His large body radiated comfort. Slowly, her nausea dissipated. Sitting up, she accepted the cold water bottle. “Thanks.” She swallowed a refreshing mouthful. “I never want to eat cotton candy again.” He smiled. “Have you ridden the Hellevator before?” She shook her head. “We didn’t have to ride it, babe.” “I wanted to. You’re a climber, Zach. You love heights. I wanted to share that excitement with you. Are you disappointed?” “In you? Never.” His rough voice caressed her. She gazed into his chocolate-sauce eyes, and something inside her softened in a way that felt incredibly dangerous. Hands down, Zach Halliday was the nicest guy she’d ever known. If only he’d entered her life at a different time. But he hadn’t. He was here now for a purpose—a temporary, sexy diversion. Remember that. “I feel better now,” she murmured, kissing him. “Thank you for taking care of me.” Oh, she did not like how cherished he made her feel. “Let’s go back to your place, and I’ll show you how much better I feel.” “Want to try the Revolution or the Twin Flip first?” She shook her head. “I want to get you alone. Now.” Making love with Zach Halliday was enough of a thrill ride for her.

Tess was on a mission to have wild jungle sex with Zach Halliday. Trapezeartist sex. Thrill-ride sex. Swinging-from-the-chandeliers, uninhibited, hot and crazy monkey loving.

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More accurately, she wished she could pursue that mission. Unfortunately, her body refused to cooperate. The nausea that had begun on the roller coaster and soared into the stratosphere courtesy of the Hellevator now saturated her entire being. She sank onto the padded lounge chair on Zach’s high-rise sundeck facing False Creek. The sun-toasted vinyl soothed the backs of her thighs. Zach strode out carrying two glasses of orange juice. Her heart melted. “For you, milady.” Bowing, he presented her a glass. She smiled. “I trust it’s freshly squeezed?” “If you count opening a can from the freezer, yes.” Tess took the glass and drank the cold juice. “Thank you.” Her tummy somersaulted, and she moaned. “I’m sorry about this.” He sat on the lounge, hip nudging hers. “About what?” He sipped his juice. “For wimping out on you. I’ll be okay in a few minutes, and then we can do it out here if you want.” She smoothed a hand along his muscular thigh. “We’re not doing it, babe.” The growing bulge in his shorts belied his words. She skimmed her fingers toward his zipper. “But I said—” “I know what you said.” His eyes closed as she fondled him over his khaki shorts. His erection swelled, and a wave of satisfaction rolled through her. “Tess.” His eyes opened. “I hate to break it to you, but you’re not in shape for lovemaking.” He lifted her hand off his shorts. Leaning over, he brushed sticky hair off her forehead and planted a gentle kiss on the spot his fingers had grazed. “I’m not some poon hound who needs sex every day,” he whispered. “As long as we spend time together, that’s what counts.” His breath feathered her eyelashes. The affection in his voice wrapped ribbons of tenderness around her heart. Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit.

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“I think I suffer from motion sickness,” she blurted. He laughed quietly against her cheek. “No duh.” “I’ve never put two and two together before, but today reminded me of when my family went camping on Okanagan Lake one summer. Dad rented a speedboat to take us to this fancy lake resort where Mom wanted to have lunch. Boating on the calm water on the trip there didn’t bother me. But a storm hit on the way back, and the effect of those huge, rolling waves—I nearly lost my lunch. I managed to wait until we landed at the campground boat dock. Then, kablooey.” Zach placed his glass on the concrete deck floor. “All over the boat dock? Poor baby.” “It was humiliating.” She pasted on a smile. “If I suffer from motion sickness, how will I ever climb with you?” “What does one thing have to do with the other?” “Just thinking about looking down from halfway up a cliff scares me.” He rubbed her arm. “Babe, I’m honored you want to try. When Climbing The Walls opens, I can teach you to climb there. It’ll feel safer in the gym than learning outdoors. But if you never feel ready to tackle the walls, I won’t force you to. Would you force me to learn to write legal briefs?” “No.” “Then why would I badger you to take up climbing when you’ve just said it scares you?” So I can realize you’re a jerk and turf you before I get in too deep? “There are a million experiences I’d love to share with you, babe. But only if and when you’re ready.” He moved her glass to the deck floor and kissed her forehead again. Familiar longing stirred. “Zach.”

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“Meorrrrww!” Zach pulled away, and they laughed. Lump hulked beside the lounge, eyes yellow slits. “I think I’m in his spot.” Tess smiled. The cat jumped onto her lap. His rumbling purr vibrated against her pelvis. “Cheeky boy,” she murmured. “What can I say? The feline has taste.” She closed her eyes. The warmth of the late-summer sun washed over her. Lump’s purring calmed her stomach while Zach rubbed her hand and caressed her temples. A deep sense of contentment filled her. Zach filled her—his energy, his strength, his generosity and caring. Emotional intimacy was hers for this one precious moment. Soon, she’d pry open her eyes and fight this freefalling sensation with everything inside her. Just not now.

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Chapter Sixteen

Zach swung the sledgehammer at the old wall studs. On either side of him and several meters away, two renovation-crew workers toiled equally hard. Huge chunks of decimated drywall littered the concrete sub-floor. Once they maxed out the demolition with sledgehammers, they’d tackle the remnants of the interior wall with crowbars. Grunting, Zach swung again. A huge section of skeleton wall wobbled. “Let’s try it on three!” he shouted. Matt and Mike lifted their sledgehammers. “One, two, three!” The men swung in unison and the skeleton wall swayed. It crashed to the sub-floor, spewing clouds of drywall dust that floated back down to cover them like fine white flour. “Yeah! She’s finished!” Matt pumped a fist in the air. Zach propped his sledgehammer against an exterior wall and wiped his face with the back of one hand. Perspiration soaked his T-shirt. “Great work, guys. At this rate, we’ll get to clean-up by tomorrow.” Then the designing and construction of the climbing walls would begin. Mike grinned, his gaze shifting behind Zach. “Know any angels, boss?” “Huh? Too much drywall dust in your eyes, Mike?” The younger man laughed. “Nope. I swear an angel walked in.” The clattering of the closing warehouse door echoed behind them. Zach whirled around. “Tess! Babe, what are you doing here?”

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“Guess he knows the angel,” Matt joked. And what an angel. As she headed toward them, her luminescent smile brightened the dusty warehouse. White denim shorts hugged her hips, and a sleeveless top the color of ripe apricots molded her breasts. She wore her long hair pulled into a ponytail, like the other day at the PNE. Now, as then, pride surged through Zach that he was with her. She was like no other woman he’d ever known. Bold, beautiful, tender, vulnerable. And his, for as long as she’d have him. Nearing him, she lifted a brown paper bag and a large red thermos. “I brought lunch.” Her gaze darted to Matt and Mike. “I thought you’d be alone.” Her soft tone conveyed that she wished he had been. “This is Matt and Mike from the renovation crew. I shanghaied them into helping me.” “On Labor Day?” she asked, ever the observant lawyer. “He’s paying us double time and a half,” Mike said. “Good deal.” She shook both men’s hands without flinching at the sweat and dust caking their skins. “My dad’s name is Mike.” “Is he a nice guy?” Mike asked. “Yes.” Ambiguity sketched her features. She’d mentioned her mother’s unhappiness before. Was her father experiencing difficulties, too? “All we Mikes are nice guys.” Mike looked at Zach. “Gonna tell us her name?” “Sorry, guys. This is Tess, my girlf—” “His sex fiend,” she interrupted, and he nearly swallowed his tongue. Mike gulped. “Your—?” “Don’t even think about repeating it, Aitcheson.” “Lucky dog,” Matt drawled.

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“Take lunch, crew. Tess and I need to talk.” The guys trundled to the farthest corner of the warehouse, where they’d stashed their lunches. Tess, offering an innocent smile, stepped around the drywall mess. She set the bag and thermos on an old order-processing counter. Her back to him, she retrieved a washcloth from the bag and wiped the counter, humming a tune that inspired images of Walt Disney movies and mermaids in Zach’s mind. Methodically, she doled out three wrapped sandwiches, a big bag of ripple chips, paper napkins and two plastic glasses. He poked her arm. “My sex fiend? That’s a new one.” “You don’t like it? What should I call you?” He shrugged. “Sex fiend, boyfriend, lover—” sweetheart “—whatever works for you.” He’d long ago abandoned the illusion that he was in charge of this relationship. Like he’d move too fast and scare off the best thing that had ever happened to him? The light dimmed in her eyes. An instant later, her expression cheered. “I choose sex fiend. It’s simple. No strings or implied complications.” “Okay.” He preserved a light tone. “Why’d you bring me lunch, sex fiend?” She kissed him. “To thank you for taking care of me Saturday.” He caressed her hip. “My pleasure.” Despite her announcement at the fair that they’d make love at his apartment, they’d cuddled on his sundeck instead, the sun warming their skin and soothing her discomfort. Zach loved sex with his Miss Strawberry Surprise, but not when she felt ill. Saturday afternoon, all he’d wanted was to care for and protect her. “I have plans for you,” she murmured in a sexy tone. She glanced over to where Matt and Mike sat. “Or, I did have plans. Can you send the M&Ms home?”

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Any time, anywhere, was Zach’s usual lovemaking motto. However, Tess deserved eiderdown quilts and fragrant blossoms, not dust and sweat and concrete. “Babe, I’d love to. But we have loads of work to do if I want to stay on schedule. I’ll come by your place later.” He patted his grimy T-shirt. “After I take a shower.” “I have a better idea. Give me your key, and I’ll wait in your apartment. There’s a special reward if you hurry.” “Wouldn’t you rather wait at your place?” They’d yet to make love there. “No.” She drew a lazy circle on his T-shirt, and his skin hummed beneath the light pressure. “We haven’t finished exploring your apartment. When we do, we’ll move on to mine.” “Exploring? That’s what we’re calling it now?” “Well, we do explore each other’s bodies a lot.” He nodded. That they were both working horrendous hours lately hadn’t lessened their hunger for one another. He’d never before met a woman who matched him sexually. However, with Tess, he sensed something besides lust prompted her brazen behavior. He didn’t need her hot and horny all the time. He just needed her. He wouldn’t impose a timetable on her, though. Weeks had elapsed to bring their relationship to this point. Hopefully, sooner or later, she’d welcome the sharing of their thoughts and dreams with the same fervor as she welcomed the sharing of their bodies. The irony that for the first time in his life he wanted to share more than sex with a woman—and before she did—wasn’t lost on him. Cupid had a strange sense of humor.

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“How’s this?” he suggested. “We’ll meet at my place later today if you agree that I’ll come to your place next time.” Her laughter reminded him of sleigh bells. And here it was only September. “Deal.” She wriggled out of his arms and unwrapped the sandwiches. “Two for you, and one for me. I hope you like ham on rye.” “Sounds delicious. Let’s eat outside. We’ll escape the dust and enjoy the sun.” She glanced at the perfectly laid-out counter. “Now he tells me.” Zach returned the sandwiches to the bag. “Did you buy these from Sandie’s Deli?” “No.” She reached for the thermos. “I made them.” Tight bands of emotion constricted his chest. To any other guy, that she’d conducted the simple domestic ritual might not feel momentous. However, to Zach, something endearingly intimate enriched the thought of Tess preparing this light meal and bringing it to his place of business, like she might do on working weekends if they were married. She smiled. “Let’s eat, sex fiend, or you’ll never get your reward.”

Four hours later, Zach entered his apartment. Tess sat on his couch with her nose buried in her laptop. Beside her, Lump snoozed on his sleeping mat. “Hi, honey, I’m home!” Zach called. She glanced up. “If you expect me to fetch your newspaper and slippers, you’d better think again.” “Don’t worry, I’ll leave the dog stuff to Lump.” Her gaze shifted to the cat. “Good luck.” She shut down the laptop and put it on the coffee table. She rose and moved toward him, hips swaying in her white

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shorts. She sent him the familiar temptress’s smile that always led to his undoing. During the drive home, he’d promised himself he wouldn’t jump her. That they’d have dinner and talk first. But when Tess Sheridan wanted a man’s touch and nothing else, the sensual vibes emanating from her would make a eunuch gnash his teeth for his unfortunate circumstances. Dropping his keys onto the bench, Zach kicked off his work shoes and opened his arms. “Come here.” Seconds later, the woman of his heart snuggled in his arms. Her breasts crushed against his clean T-shirt. “Where did you shower?” she asked. “At my racquetball club. I didn’t want to come home to you sweaty and grimy.” “I wouldn’t have minded.” He glided his hands up and down her spine as they kissed. “Which room would you like to explore this time?” His need for her tightened his throat as well as his lower body. Her eyes gleamed. “The bathroom.” “Which one?” His apartment boasted two. “The big one, off your bedroom.” “We’ve already made love there.” In the soaker tub Friday night. And on towels cushioning the tile floor. “Not how we will this time.” The sexual promise in her voice intrigued him. “Lead on.” Taking his hand, she tugged him through his bedroom into the large master bathroom. After removing her sandals, she hoisted herself onto the countertop between the wall and sinks. The row of lights topping the mirrored medicine

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cabinet brightened his reflection as he stepped between her open thighs. She wrapped her legs around his hips and hugged him close. He pressed his mouth to hers, cupping one breast and grazing the nipple with his thumb. Ah, Tess. Ah, babe. He rubbed again. Moaning, she leaned back and pulled off her top. A smile danced on her lips as she unclasped her bra. He slipped the straps off her shoulders, freeing her breasts. As their gazes met, he loosened the fabric-covered elastic cinching her ponytail. While he carefully released her hair, she kept him captured snug between her thighs. Urgency building, he coaxed her legs off his hips and unzipped her shorts. She planted her hands behind herself, hips lifting. He stripped off her shorts and panties then rid himself of his T-shirt while she unbuckled his belt. Stepping back, he shed his jeans. Returning to his position between her legs, he slipped one hand between the cool skin of her inner thighs and caressed her moist slit. Mewling sounds escaped her mouth. She curved her hands around his neck, bringing his head down to hers and kissing him deeply while his fingers probed her. Her palm brushed his jaw, raising the bristles of his five o’clock shadow. “Would you like me to shave?” he whispered. She murmured, “Let me do it.” Again, as at the warehouse, emotion banded his chest. The thought of the woman he loved shaving his face while they were naked swirled an aching sensation deep inside him. The woman he loved. He smiled.

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Yes, he loved her. He loved Tess Sheridan. Her humor and intelligence, her focus and determination. The knowledge that he’d fallen so hard and fast didn’t intimidate him. He hadn’t been looking for love, he certainly hadn’t expected to find it, but here it was, anyway, as if it had been waiting for him all along. Waiting for him to find her. The only woman for him. Tess. She gazed at him. “Why are you smiling?” He couldn’t tell her yet. If the last few days were any indication, sharing her feelings scared her. Whenever their conversation grew too personal, she distracted him with a lustful kiss, which eventually led to more lovemaking. Always hot and electrifying. And impossible to turn down. Instead, he said, “I love being with you like this.” “You ain’t seen nothing yet, buster. Where’s your razor?” He moved around her and opened the medicine cabinet. “It’s not electric.” He withdrew a fresh disposable razor and a can of aloe shaving gel. “Good. I didn’t want it to be.” She accepted the razor. Zach foamed his face with the running water. “Be gentle.” She pulled him between her legs again. As she raised the blade to his jaw, his stiff cock grazed her belly. “You might want to rest that awhile,” she said. “I don’t think I can.” “Fair enough. As long as it’s still around when I need it.” She began shaving him. He tensed when the blade touched his skin. However, after she whisked away the first trail of foam, he relaxed. A woman had never shaved him before, but he trusted Tess. Besides, a knick would be

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worth it. Every time she raised her hand for another stroke of the razor, her tits lifted and her abdomen skimmed the swollen head of his cock. Finished, she rinsed the blades and passed him the razor. “Done.” She caressed his clean-shaven jaw. Lightly kissing him, she whispered, “Your turn.” “My turn?” He almost dropped the damn razor. “I want you to shave me.” He flicked his gaze to her pussy. “You mean—?” Her eyes closed briefly. “Yes.” Fuck, she was pure male fantasy. “All of it?” “Maybe not all of it. Just the lips.” His cock might have been stiff before, but his entire body raged for her now. Not only because of the sensual exhilaration of sharing another first with her. She trusted him. Much more than she knew. Otherwise, she wouldn’t surrender the most delicate part of her body to his care. “Here?” he asked. “On the counter?” She jumped off the vanity. “In the shower. I’ll sit on the built-in seat. It’s big enough.” She smiled. “That’s the spot we haven’t explored yet.” “You planned this?” She nodded. “Naughty girl. I’ll fetch a new razor.” “No, I want you to use the same one I used on you.” “I don’t want to knick you.” He retrieved the aloe gel. “You won’t.” Again, there it was. Implicit trust. She started the water in the doublewide shower. Heat rushed from the showerhead, and steam filled the bathroom. Entering the stall after her, he closed

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the door. She took the razor and shaving gel and placed them on a shelf, then reached for the soap and lathered his body. Zach returned the favor, soaping and rinsing her. She sat on the tile seat. Grabbing the acrylic bar, she propped a foot on the wall. The position opened her to him, and heat thickened his veins. Kneeling before her, he gazed at her glistening pussy—pink as springtime petals, but much, much more enticing. He retrieved the razor, squirted gel onto one palm, and foamed it up. Gingerly, he dabbed her outer lips with the soothing cream. Her giggles competed with the thrumming pulse of the shower spray. “That tickles.” “Are you sure you want to do this?” He glanced up. “I’ve come this far. I don’t want to lose my nerve.” “It’s not a competition, babe.” Her foot slid down the wall tiles. “If you don’t find the idea exciting—” His throat squeezed. “I do.” Her foot slid up the wall again. “I’m not a contortionist, Halliday. Let’s get this show on the road.” “Yes, ma’am.” Tenderness joined the need roiling inside him. He was so lost. To her body, her soul, her smile, those beautiful blue eyes. He returned his gaze to her sex. What a hardship. With two fingers, he stretched the outer lips taut and carefully slicked off the red-gold curls. Frequently rinsing the razor and applying more gel, he remained focused on his pleasurable task. Her groans reached his ears. Erection throbbing, he looked up. Her eyes were closed, her nipples pink and pointed. She moaned again, and he nearly came right there.

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Willing his heartbeat to slow, he pressed a thumb to her clit. Rewarded with more moans, he continued shaving, exposing ultrasoft skin with each gentle razor scrape. Excitement swarming him, he whisked away hair, applied gel, massaged it in, and whisked again. When he finished, only a tiny patch of groomed curls remained above her pale pussy lips and stiff clitoris. Sucking in a breath, he soaked a washcloth with warm water and bathed her tender skin free of the foam. Her heel slipped down the shower wall. He caught it in one hand. “Don’t get up yet. I want to look. Hang on to the bar.” Her irregular breathing signaled her approval. He hooked her leg over his shoulder. The position supported her while spreading her naked vagina wide to his view. He explored the smooth flesh of her freshly shaven mound, stroking a finger between her inner and outer folds. Blood pounding, he parted her and looked his fill. Hot water pummeling his back, he cupped her ass in both hands and licked her hot center. The lingering aloe scent enriched her natural woman’s essence. She gasped as he swirled his tongue over her shaved mound and sucked the patch of remaining hair. He slicked his tongue up her folds, around her clit, inside her. Her foot gripped his hip, and her other leg clamped his shoulder. Her free hand latched onto his deltoids as he nipped and sucked. Soon, her moans spiraled into passionate cries. Her thighs clenched as she came. He untangled their limbs and lowered her feet to the shower floor. “Easy,” he whispered. “I’ll carry you to bed.” Another first. Nine days of the best sex of his life, and they’d yet to test out a mattress. Her breath released in semi-ragged pants as she nodded. “I can’t walk right now, anyway.”

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“I’ll take that as a compliment.” Zach shut off the shower and carried her dripping wet to his bed. “Should we get some towels?” she whispered. “Not in the mood.” He needed her. Now. He tugged back the quilt and laid her on the sheets, then reached in the nightstand for protection and put it on. Claiming her mouth, he entered her. Her hips rose to meet his, her wet skin slick and warm beneath his hands. The incredible sensation of her naked flesh slapped him with every thrust. His heart pumped crazily. He slipped his fingers between her legs and stroked. Within seconds, her cries of pleasure catapulted him over the edge. Every muscle and tendon in his body straining, he came. Hard. The force of his release tore from his throat. If his heart burst from the pressure, he’d die a happy man. In her arms. Now and forever.

Ethan had chosen his clothing for his date with Chloe Nichols carefully. And, okay, with professional assistance. His new style credo—no ties, suits or buttondown shirts worn outside of the office or formal occasions. Instead, he’d selected a lightweight shirt the sales associate at Sandringham Menswear had called a mock turtleneck. Apparently, the color—taupe, or something equally GQ— brought out the “amber undertones” in his eyes. Casual trousers “a shade darker” than taupe, a black leather belt, and loafers had de-suited him to the sales associate’s satisfaction. Also to Chloe Nichol’s satisfaction, if her wide smile when he’d picked her up provided evidence.

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Now he and Chloe sat at a cozy table in Umberto’s, enjoying the last of a fullbodied barolo while sharing a dessert goblet of tiramisu. Normally, Ethan preferred eating from his own dish. However, so far nothing about his relationship with Chloe fell within his range of “normal”. Interesting conversation replaced the first-date awkwardness he usually experienced. “She didn’t know the wife existed?” he asked in response to Chloe’s story about her wealthy father abandoning her mother when her mom became pregnant. “Not an inkling.” Chloe licked tiramisu cream from her lips. “He was fifteen years older than she was, but very handsome. It wasn’t like she was dating a bald guy with a beer gut.” Ethan laughed. “He blew her away with his so-called sophistication. I mean, he really laid it on her, Ethan, seducing her over several months. Once they learned she was pregnant…” Her gaze shadowed. “He told her about his wife,” Ethan guessed, and she nodded. “Mom was heartbroken. She really loved the jerk. But Daddy Dearest refused to leave his society biddy.” “Some men are assholes.” “Some women are, too. I’ll admit, no matter how badly he treated her, he looked after us financially. I never met him. He didn’t want to. He moved his family to Toronto to help keep us secret.” She swirled her spoon around the inside of the goblet. “He thought he could make up for his absence from our lives with guilt money. It didn’t work.” “No wonder you don’t like Suits.” “I don’t know. I like you. A lot.”

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Irrational happiness flooded him. “And I like you.” He dipped his spoon into the rich dessert and lifted the confection to her mouth. A pale rose washed her face as she drew on the spoon. His pulse leapt. “You could still meet him if you wanted.” Shaking her head, she dabbed her mouth with a napkin. “He died of a stroke last year.” “I’m sorry.” “So am I.” Her green eyes glistened. “Oddly, he left me a big inheritance. He didn’t want his family knowing about me when he was alive, but he had no problem revealing my existence in his will. You wouldn’t believe the hate emails his widow sent me.” “Did you accept the money?” “You bet. I had student loans to pay off. I bought my car, helped my mom kill her mortgage then invested the rest toward university expenses for my future kids.” She studied him. “I want children, Ethan. Two or three little rug rats. And a man who’ll stick around to help raise them. Does that scare you?” “No. I had a wonderful childhood. I’d love to have children someday.” She paused. “I want to have my first baby before I hit thirty.” “When do you turn thirty?” “Three years.” “Okay.” “Okay?” She laughed. “Well, you’re not making me sign a blood oath tonight. If things work out between us, you want three kids. But if you decide after a month that you hate me—” “Have no fear, I will not harvest your sperm without your consent.” He chuckled. “Had enough dessert? Let’s get out of here.”

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“Gladly.” He paid the bill. Hand in hand, they left the restaurant and strolled in the gathering dusk to the Granville Street Mall, which was closed to traffic save for pedestrians, buses and taxis. A divergent mix of soaring shopping centers, small businesses, street vendors and performers converged on them. A somber aspect coexisted with the window-shoppers and movie-goers—the strained faces of the homeless huddling in shadows, the shouts of university students celebrating the new term with too many beers. Ethan dropped several dollars into an open guitar case cradling a sleeping puppy. Its owner’s voice serenaded them as they continued along the sidewalk. Ethan said, “I saw you outside the coffeehouse once, aside from that day you took off on me in Stanley Park.” “You mean near McKitrick Advertising in Yaletown?” He squeezed her hand. “No. I remember that day, though. I’d bought a macchiato from Lovin’ before my meeting with North Star Marketing. Hey!” He glanced down at her. “You were there?” “I followed you.” She scurried a few steps to maintain his long strides. Her sandals pattered brickwork as her green skirt swirled mid-thigh. He shortened his steps. “You were in Lovin’ when I came in?” “I’d just returned from my lunch break. I hid behind a display when I saw you, then pretty much had you under surveillance until you entered the marketing building. Dumb, huh?” He laughed. “I’m flattered. And relieved. I thought someone was following me.” “I only followed you because I thought you were hot.” “Do you still think I’m hot?” “More than ever.”

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The breeze picked up, its fading summer warmth pleasant after yesterday’s rain. “I’ve had you under surveillance, too,” Ethan said. At her curious glance, he elaborated, “Four weeks ago. Danver’s Pub. You were with Teresa. Um, Tess. I was with Zach.” “I didn’t see you!” “I left before Tess spoke to my brother. Zach pointed you out as someone he thought would be good for me. When he told me to go for it, I wanted to, but I was overwhelmed with work, so I pretended I was interested in Tess.” Chloe’s face scrunched into an adorable expression of envy. “But you weren’t.” “No. I only had eyes for you.” Cheesy, cheesy, cheesy. But also true. Stopping beneath the navy-striped awning of a candy shop, he pulled her close. “I’ll be honest, Chloe. What you said in the ladies’ room last week, I felt it right along with you. I still feel it, stronger now. I want to see how things develop between us. Maybe I’m moving too fast—” She shook her head. “If you’re moving too fast, I’m a flipping freight train. I’ve never felt like this, Ethan. I want to know everything about you. Mainly, I just want to be with you.” “Good.” Serenity claimed him. “Because that’s exactly what I want.” He kissed her, their mouths melding. Arousal and deep affection and certainty for their future swarmed him. Only a moron glimpsed a lifetime of happiness with a woman during a first kiss. He’d better not apply to Mensa then, because they would reject him.

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Chapter Seventeen

Tess unplugged the phone, killed her cell, and placed a dark cloth over Buddy’s birdcage. It wasn’t yet eight p.m., but Zach was coming over and she didn’t want any interruptions. The closing date for the Crockett’s deal quickly approached, and Virginia Winslow had requested her assistance on another case. Tess hadn’t managed more than a coffee date with Zach in three days. She cleared clutter in the living room. Minutes later, a knock rapped at the door. Her heart danced as she let him in. “Hi, Zach.” He wore his usual after-renovations uniform—jeans and an old, comfy T-shirt. He looked amazing. “Hey, babe.” He kissed her and placed a large paper bag on the kitchen counter. “Finally, your place. I haven’t been here since we worked on the business plan.” Damn right, he hadn’t. She wouldn’t have agreed to meet him here tonight if the thought of kyboshing their bargain hadn’t left her feeling like a relationship control freak. She touched the bag. “What did you bring?” “Chinese take-out.” His half-smile warmed her. “You said you were hungry.” “I didn’t mean for food.”

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Innate sexiness resonated in his slow shrug. “I guessed that. But you’re a demanding wench in the bedroom. I figured I’d need the nourishment, either before or afterward.” His deep voice softened. “Chinese food heats up nicely.” Zach Halliday heated up nicely, especially when he was in her arms. “Good, because we’re not eating it for hours.” She stored the bag in the fridge. “I want to ask you something.” “Shoot.” Her palms prickled, and she wiped them on her jeans. Don’t fail me now, inner nympho. Since her attack of motion sickness last weekend, she’d obsessed over her failure to achieve her post-PNE jungle-sex mission. Monday in the shower had diminished her worries to a degree. She and Zach had started a fine tradition with their adventurous lovemaking, and she needed to keep it going. She couldn’t risk letting down her guard and truly falling for him. Heart pounding, she asked, “What’s your wildest fantasy?” Interest sparked in his eyes, and she continued, “How about a blow job…in front of the living room window? Curtains open. Or I could tie you up.” His rich chuckle rumbled between them. “Babe, I love how free you are with me, but we don’t have to go for kink every time.” He brushed her cheeks with the backs of his fingers. Tenderness swirled inside her. She slid him a teasing look. “You don’t like kink?” “I love kink, in moderation.” His gaze held hers. “You’ll do anything I ask?” Tummy quivering, she nodded. “I have something really radical in mind. No backing out once you hear it.” “That’s fine.” So, so fine. His expression grew serious. “I want to make love with you, Tess.”

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“Hey, baby, I’m there.” “I don’t think you get my meaning. I want to make love with you, not to you. Missionary position. Traditional. Very traditional. Slow, tender, loving.” “Loving?” She swallowed. “I want to make love, not have sex. I want it in your bed. And I want to spend the night.” Bittersweet yearning tunneled through her. To wake up with him? To feel his strong body spooning hers in the cool morning light? “That’s really what you want?” she whispered. Fingers skimming her face again, he nodded. Her mouth dried. She’d said she wouldn’t back out. She would keep her word. They’d “make love” this once, curing him. A man of Zach Halliday’s reputation wasn’t built for emotional commitment. They’d experienced hot and heavy countless times, so now he wanted it slow and gentle. Big deal. He probably needed the variety. “Okay,” she murmured, praying she wasn’t making a huge mistake. “Yes.” His whisper brushed her mouth. Tenderly, he kissed her then lifted and carried her to the bedroom. Tess allowed him to undress her, his movements so slow and gentle that a lump rose in her throat. Dangerous emotional territory lay ahead, but if she could get through this night with Zach, she could handle anything life threw at her. She helped him remove his clothes, and they fell together onto the bed. His light kisses sprinkled her throat, her breasts and belly…the fine hairs growing back below. His sure hands stroked and re-learned her curves as she re-learned his heat, his tangy scent and thick cock. When his face finally hovered above hers, his arms supporting his weight as their gazes locked and he entered her, she experienced the most incredible of

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erotic sensations. Her legs were open to him, but they had been open like this several times before. However, this time, it felt like her entire body was opening, blossoming. As if her physical self couldn’t contain her need for him. It expanded inside her, moved up and out of her, into him. As his body moved within hers, his intense gaze searched her face. For what, she dared not consider. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispered. Tears pricked her eyes. “You, too, lover.” “Lover,” he murmured. “I love how you say that. Like you want me to crawl inside you.” Yes, that was exactly what she wanted. Him. Inside her. Always. “Lover. You’re my lover.” But he was also her friend. She’d never before realized it was possible to share sex and friendship with the same man. How she would miss him. “Zach?” she whispered. “When we burn out, I’d like to stay friends.” His heated gaze consumed her. “What makes you think we’ll burn out?” “Because, twelve days ago, we agreed that eventually we would.” “What I feel for you isn’t only lust, Tess.” His big fingers swept her jaw. “It goes much deeper, sweetheart. Can’t you feel it?” Her chest burned. She didn’t want to feel it, didn’t want to read eternity in his compelling brown eyes. She only wanted now. Him. Her. This. Their bodies, hot and tangled. In sensual rhythm, as one. Not their hearts. Never their hearts. Just their bodies. She coaxed his mouth onto hers, sought his tongue, and claimed it. She pumped her hips. Now. This was all she wanted.

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“Hey, lady, there’s a chow-mein noodle hanging off your nipple,” Zach said. His tempting bedmate glanced down at her naked breasts. After three rounds of highly satisfying lovemaking interspersed with rejuvenating naps, they’d finally advanced to the Chinese take-out. Zach had helped Tess reheat the food and divide the portions between two plastic bowls so they could eat in bed without food sliding off plates and mucking her light purple sheets. A halfway success story. So far, she’d only messed up her body. She grinned. “I like it there.” “Beats a nipple ring. At least it’s edible.” “Yes, it has a purpose.” “Which is?” “For you to lick it off.” “Mmm.” Her nipple stiffened beneath his hungry gaze. “Well?” she prompted. “Just wondering how I should do it. I could nibble it off.” The areola tightened. “Maybe suck it off.” The nipple stood at attention. “Or chew it a good, long time.” She moaned. “I thought you wanted to eat, Zach.” He lifted his gaze. “I do. It’s just a matter of what I want to eat.” She stuck her nose in the air. “Make up your mind. It’s getting cold.” “It?” She laughed. “The noodle.” “Can’t have that.” His semi-hard penis twitched beneath the sheets. He lowered his head to her breast and swirled his tongue, capturing the noodle. Noisily, he slurped the tidbit into his mouth. “Mm, good.”

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“That’s quite a technique you have.” He repositioned his bowl on his lap. “You inspire me.” She scooped chow mein onto her fork. “You’re not this inventive with all your lovers?” “I don’t remember anyone but you.” “Liar. Your reputation preceded you, remember?” “Don’t believe everything you hear, sweets. I doubt I’ve slept with half the women who claim I have.” Men could grow weary of being used for sexual sport, too. “I’ll have you know I’ve remained celibate for months at a time.” Her mouth curved. “How many months?” “Two…and a bit.” “Quite a dry spell. Should I consider myself special that you broke your vow of chastity for me?” “Yep.” Wary of the conversation becoming too serious for her, he mirrored her light tone. When they’d made love earlier, something had changed between them. Not only for him, but for her, as well. Whether she realized it or not. Whether or not she wanted to accept it. For days now, Zach had known he loved her. Already the feeling dug deeper, had grown more electrifying and resilient, soaking every cell of his body. He didn’t need her to tell him how she felt, because he sensed it. Just like he sensed that she didn’t want to tell him. She let him know how deeply she cared for him in ways she probably didn’t imagine. The soft light in her baby-blue gaze, her catch of breath when he came near, the demure smile when she thought he wasn’t looking. Maybe he was mistaken. He’d never visited this emotional terrain before. But something that felt so right and perfect had to be true.

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Dad had often said the same thing about Zach’s mother, that her love had felt right and true. So family legend went, when ambitious Graham Halliday met carefree Floretta Manzinelli, his structured life blew apart, fell into place, and everything became clear. What was important, what wasn’t. What came first— love, joy, commitment, family. Zach’s mother had softened his father’s rough edges, had helped form Dad into the benevolent philanthropist and businessman he was today. Zach couldn’t wait to experience how Tess’s love would shape him, or how his love for her would influence her personality and choices. “You should consider yourself very special,” he reiterated. “You’re special, too.” She winked. “’Specially gifted in the bedroom.” Pretend you don’t feel it, babe. I can take it. Accommodating guy that he was, he changed the subject. “How are things at Greenburg?” She beamed. “Lawrence took me to lunch today.” “Does he do that often?” “No. So today was major.” “Excellent. What did he say?” “That I’m doing a wonderful job tying up the acquisition. He’s thrilled I’ve brought a van Hoyt into the firm, and he predicts great things for my future.” Pride surged on her face. “What about Phil Renfrew?” Zach asked. “Does L.G. treat him to lunches?” “Maybe some other time, but not today.” She stabbed a water chestnut with her fork. “Think he’s realized the guy’s a brown-noser?”

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Her shoulders lifted. “Phil’s not so bad. To be honest, I’ve never worked with him before, just ran into him at the office. Now, with the acquisition, I’m realizing his attitude’s mainly for show.” Zach chuckled. “What?” she asked. “Nothing.” Apparently, Tess and Renfrew weren’t as dissimilar as Zach had thought. Not that he considered her a brown-noser. But an expert at wearing a game face? Yep. She said, “Our relationship hasn’t progressed enough that Phil would share the coup of a lunch with Lawrence with me, so—” “You didn’t tell him about your lunch.” “He’ll find out in due time. The office grapevine rarely withers.” “You’d still love to beat him out for a partnership, though.” “Yes.” She cleared her throat. “What about your dad? Are you still working for Halliday while supervising the renovations?” “When necessary. Dad’s out of town this week checking out a fast-food franchise. Olivia went with him. That’s his lady friend. They’ve been together three years. She’s good for him. He used to be so lonely.” Zach finished his chow mein. “It’s best he’s gone this week, or he might start asking where I’ve been hiding. I’ve sloughed off the Halliday stuff whenever possible.” Tess pushed around her remaining noodles with her fork. “Why not tell him about the climbing center, Zach? Now that you’re at the renovation stage, he’ll understand.” “I’ll tell him after the opening. He can be a mule. If I say something too soon, he’ll spend from now until celebration balloons are cramming the place trying to talk me out of my plans. I can’t allow him that advantage.” A thoughtful look passed over Tess’s face. “Is Ethan suspicious?”

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“Nah. He has too much on his mind. The guy needs a break like you wouldn’t believe.” Her eyes glittered. “Zach, I probably shouldn’t say anything, but Chloe thinks he’s hot.” Zach coughed. “Ethan?” His bowl careened down his lap. He grabbed it before almond chicken crumbs spewed onto the sheets. Tess’s buoyant nod bounced her long curls. “Remember her message on my answering machine, when she carried on about The Suit? Turns out she meant Ethan. Only she didn’t know who he was then.” “She does now?” Tess nodded again. “He came into Lovin’ last week when I was there. Chloe hid in the can while I talked to him. She was appalled at herself for having a crush on a businessman. They’re not her type. Or so she thought.” “That’s probably a good thing. I doubt Ethan could handle Chloe.” From what Zach had witnessed, Tess’s friend was a human firecracker. And Ethan was, well, Ethan. Too buttoned up to realize when he needed to unbutton. A mysterious smile played on Tess’s lips. “We’ll see.” “What do you mean?” “They’re dating.” “Impossible. Ethan’s interested in—” Lightning struck. “Chloe’s his mystery woman?” She laughed. “He’s mentioned her?” “Yes, but I didn’t think he meant Chloe.” Zach set his bowl on the nightstand. “They went to dinner and a movie last night,” Tess reported with a healthy serving of glee. “He’s taking her sailing this weekend.” Unbelievable. Despite loving the sport, his brother hadn’t sailed in years.

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“What do you know?” Ethan and Chloe, him and Tess. Maybe someday they’d attend each other’s weddings, have kids around the same age, alternate Christmas dinners, coach minor league baseball… Pleasure heated him. “Opposites attract, like us.” Her smile wavered. Deal with it, babe. She placed her bowl on the opposite nightstand. Zach reached for her, murmuring, “Let’s snuggle.” Uneasiness lingering on her features, she curled up under his arm. Her springy curls tickled his chest. The light-scented shampoo they’d shared in the shower enhanced her clean, sexy aroma. He kissed her scalp. “Zach?” Her quiet voice lifted to his ears, and he closed his eyes. He could stay like this forever. “Yes?” “You’ve never mentioned your mother. Now your father’s out of town with this Olivia woman. Are your parents divorced?” He shook his head, chin grazing her hair. “My mom died when I was fourteen.” She looked up. “I didn’t know that. I’m sorry.” “It was a long time ago.” “You were so young.” He nodded. “It damn near killed me. Damn near killed all of us to lose her. She went so quickly.” His throat constricted. Hell. “Was it an accident?” “Ovarian cancer.” “Oh no! Did she receive treatment?”

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“Yes, but it was too late.” His voice roughened. “Even when she was bald and skinny as a bird, she was still beautiful. She always talked with her hands. Her Italian heritage, you know. Even at the end, she did that. Like a tiny, delicate bird.” “It sounds like she was very loved. What was her name?” “Floretta Angelina Manzinelli.” A smile tugged his mouth. His sadness scattered as an image of his bright-eyed mother formed. “Italian through and through.” “Floretta? As in Floretta House?” Tess straightened and propped a hand behind her on the sheets. “Your father established the charity?” “Mm-hm. When Mom was in treatment, Dad met a lot of families from other parts of B.C., and he became aware of the financial burden facing people living outside the Lower Mainland forced to find accommodation in Vancouver while their loved ones visited the Cancer Treatment Center. He considered us fortunate not to have to travel for Mom, and the idea for Floretta House developed from there.” “That was generous of him.” “Not generous, babe. Necessary. He—and Ethan and I—want to help those families however we can. Even after I leave Halliday, I’ll never abandon Floretta House.” “Of course not. You’re not that kind of man.” A reflective look entered her eyes. “I can’t believe I didn’t know about this. Lawrence has never said a word.” “That’s because, years ago, Dad asked him not to. Dad doesn’t like broadcasting the Halliday Enterprises connection to Floretta House. He says that would be like mining the charity for good P.R., which isn’t its purpose.”

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Tess burrowed beneath his arm again. For several seconds, she remained quiet. Finally, she said, “That’s where I want you to donate. The charity of my choosing,” she clarified. “I want it to be Floretta House.” Ah yes, their sexy negotiations in the art-gallery closet. “I know I said I’d donate your usual fee to charity, babe, but I already donate to Floretta House several times a year. Wouldn’t you rather choose another worthy cause?” She shook her head. Her long hair spread in waves against his skin. She tunneled a finger through the strands, twirling them to mix with his chest hair. “I want it to be Floretta House. That’s where I’ll donate, too.” “You don’t have to donate, Tess. That wasn’t the idea.” “I want to. It sounds like your parents had a happy marriage.” “They celebrated their twentieth anniversary before she died.” “Well, donating to the charity established in your mom’s name helps me believe happy endings are possible. Not that she died,” she added quickly. “But that she and your father were so happy when she was alive. As long as I can remember, Zach, my parents haven’t been happy.” A personal revelation? He waited the space of a heartbeat. “Not all marriages work out.” “Not everyone marries for the right reasons,” Tess responded dully. He kissed her forehead. “Don’t let your parents’ bad experience put you off marriage, sweets. My parents had their share of problems. What couple doesn’t? But they were a great example that loving, successful marriages are possible.” “Then why haven’t you married?” She cringed. “Sorry! I’m not hinting that I want to get married. Because I don’t. I mean—” He laughed. “Hint not taken.” He caressed her shoulder. “At thirty, I’m hardly out to pasture. When the right woman comes along, I’ll know.”

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He drew in a breath. He longed to tell Tess that she was the right woman. Or she could be, if she’d let down her guard and trust him, share his faith for their future. However, for now, his faith would have to suffice for them both.

Zach slept beside Tess, his strong legs tangling her lavender sheets. His face lay in her direction, his expression of a contented little boy in dreamland spurring her smile. She tucked her hands deeper beneath her pillow. Oh, Zach. What am I going to do with you? About us? Earlier tonight, his request to make love, not have sex had terrified her. She’d worried that not focusing on the physical would spoil the amiable affection between them, especially when combined with his unexpected declaration that his feelings went deeper than lust. Thank heaven he’d realized her reluctance to delve into the “Big F” feelings discussion, because he hadn’t mentioned “loving” again. Hopefully, their intense sexual bond had prompted his remarks rather than any deep feelings he might have developed. Like most men, he probably regretted mentioning the L word. She hoped so, anyway. Falling in love with Zach Halliday wasn’t part of her sex plan, but him falling in love with her didn’t register on her top ten life goals list, either. She squeezed shut her eyes. She’d hate herself forever if she hurt him. Please, please, don’t love me. Rap! Rat-a-tap-tap! The frantic knocking on the apartment door resounded into the small bedroom. Tess and Zach bolted up.

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“It’s nearly two a.m., Zach! Who could that be?” “Probably a drunk coming home from the bar, wondering why their key doesn’t work,” he said sleepily. “Teresa?” a muffled voice called through the door, decimating his theory. “Teresa? Teresa! Open up!” “It’s my mother! My parents live over an hour away! It must be an emergency!” What an idiot she was, not plugging in the phone again or turning on her cell. She grabbed her robe and donned it over her nude body. Zach dragged the rumpled sheet off the bed. “I’ll come with you.” He wrapped the sheet around his naked hips. “That’s okay. Stay here.” He leveled her a decisive look. “Tess, I’m answering the door with you. I’m not about to let you face bad news alone.” “A-all right,” she stammered. “But stay behind me. I want mine to be the first face she sees.” They motored to the entrance. With Zach’s solid presence offering support, she opened the door. Despair splotched her mother’s face. Tess ushered her inside. “Mom! What’s wrong?” “Your father—” Sob breaking, Mom looked at Zach. “Who’s this?” “A friend. Has something happened to Dad?” Mom’s gaze flew back to Tess. “He left me! We were arguing, and he up and left me!” The misery on her face squalled into anger. “After all the years I’ve given him! The best years of my life! After Darla! If I find out where he went, something sure as hell will happen!” Tess’s mind reeled. Her mother never lost her temper in public. Whatever had occurred was serious—or a horrible mistake.

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She touched her mom’s arm. “Everything will be okay. Let’s sit down, and we’ll talk.” “Talk? Teresa, he’s having an affair! I know he is! Probably laughing it up with his floozy this very minute!” In Mom-lingo, “laughing it up” equaled sex. “Dad wouldn’t do that to you.” Mom snorted. “How would you know?” A heavy warmth sank onto Tess’s shoulder. Zach’s hand. There, for her. Compassionate and reassuring. She sighed. She didn’t want to send him away, but she had to. Once Mom calmed down, she’d feel mortified to realize she’d unloaded in front of a stranger. Tess whispered to him, “I’m sorry. I think you should go.” “No problem. We only get one mother, babe. Take care of her.” He dropped a light kiss to her lips. “I’m sorry for your trouble, Mrs. Sheridan. I’ll be out of here as soon as I can.” “Don’t slam the door on your way out,” Mom muttered as he headed to the bedroom, the sheet bundled around him. Tess’s face flamed. “Mom!” He turned at the bedroom. “It’s okay.” The door shut behind him. “Teresa, really. Taking after your father?” “Mother! Zach is my—” What? Her lover? Boy toy? Sexcapade partner? “I told you, he’s my friend.” “I don’t care who he is, as long as he leaves quickly.” “Mom, Zach isn’t the issue. I’m a grown woman. I care about him.” She did, oh, she did. “He has every right to be here. I have every right to have him here without listening to your assumptions.”

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“It’s pretty difficult not to assume, Teresa. He’s traipsing around in a bedsheet, of all things. The lavender sheets I gave you for your birthday. Now you’re telling me you haven’t been laughing it up all night with that gigolo?” “He’s not a gigolo!” Tess rubbed her aching forehead. “Mom, you came here to talk about Dad, not my love life. Zach is leaving. I’ll make tea, and we’ll talk. Please, Mom, I know you’re hurting. What was the fight about this time?” Her mother’s face crumpled. “It’s so much more than a fight, Tessie. Your father wants a divorce.”

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Chapter Eighteen

Tess dragged herself into the office Monday morning, bleary-eyed and exhausted. Four nights of sleeping on the couch so her mother could have the bed had bunched her back into sore knots. Worse, she hadn’t seen Zach since he’d left her apartment. She’d booked a day off Friday to console her mom, and she and her sisters had remained in communication throughout the weekend, trying to make sense of their parents’ latest blowup. Mom had returned to the Abbotsford house this morning. Meanwhile, Dad had sequestered himself into a hotel. Tess was having dinner with him later this week, at her mother’s urging. Hopefully, she’d learn something then. Weariness tugging at her, she sat at her desk and booted up her computer. Outside her window, overcast skies released pale beams of weak September sunshine—an accurate reflection of her energy level. On Saturday, Randi and Jenna had taken Mom shopping, affording Tess a few hours at the office. However, masses of work remained. Looking at the papers littering her desk hurt her eyes. The sooner she finished the due diligence and her new work for Virginia Winslow, the sooner she could reconnect with human clients. She especially missed dealing with small-business owners like the Tanakas. Like Zach. Her stomach grumbled, but she ignored it. She needed coffee, not food. Sending Sammi to Lovin’ would take too long, so she’d settle for the firm’s sludge. The extra-grody vein-combustor in the common break room sounded perfect.

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Moments later, Tess entered the break room. Sammi stood near the droning microwave, stirring a mug of coffee and talking to a brunette temp munching a cracker. Tess had heard the temp was pregnant, which explained why the girl had done basically nothing but eat during her few days at the firm. “Good morning, Sammi. Hi, Marcy.” Tess bee-lined for the coffeemaker three meters to the left of the younger women. Sammi glanced over her shoulder. “Hi, Miss Sheridan. Would you like me to heat you a muffin? I’m heating one for Mr. Renfrew.” “No, thanks. If I get hungry, I’ll heat one myself. I have to keep moving so I won’t fall asleep.” The microwave beeped. Sammi retrieved Phil’s muffin, and Marcy munched another cracker. “You work super hard, Miss Sheridan,” Marcy said. “You couldn’t pay me to put in the long hours you junior associates have to deal with. When do you find time for yourself?” Tess smiled. “I’ve learned to make time.” Since meeting Zach. Before then, her career had consumed her life. She much preferred it this way, exhaustion and all. She’d finally see him again tonight. She couldn’t wait. She rummaged in a cupboard for her coffee mug. As the cupboard door shut, Marcy whispered something indecipherable to Sammi. “What do you mean?” Sammi asked. Marcy’s voice rose a smidgen. “Some people are born lucky. If you have money, you can get away with anything. Take Mr. Halliday’s son, for instance.” Tess tensed. Did Marcy mean Zach or Ethan?

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As if on cue, Sammi asked, “Which one?” Tess hummed a popular tune to disguise her eavesdropping. No one at the firm realized she and Zach were dating, and that was how she wanted their situation to remain. Not only because Zach needed Climbing The Walls to stay confidential until the opening, either. Their pro bono/charity arrangement was too complicated to explain, and she still received a sexual zing from the secretlovers concept. “The youngest son,” Marcy murmured. Zach. Of course. His reputation fed half the rumor mills in the city. Sammi’s sigh reached her ears. “What a total hottie.” Hey, hands off! “I think he’s lazy,” Marcy whispered. Tess stifled a snort. Hastily, she poured her coffee and returned the carafe to the warmer. She’d love to correct Marcy’s skewed impression of Zach. Unfortunately, then she’d reveal that she knew him as more than Graham Halliday’s son. “What makes you think he’s lazy?” Sammi asked. Marcy’s voice lowered. “I read some of my aunt’s files.” Tess’s eyes widened. Who the hell was Marcy’s aunt? She hummed louder, spoon clunking the sugar bowl. “You’re not supposed to read the files, just file them,” Sammi whispered. “Yeah, but…you know the supermarket thing your associates are working on?” Marcy whispered. Sammi must have nodded, because Marcy whispered again, “It’s for him.” Huh? The spoon clattered to the counter. “For Zach Halliday?” Sammi whispered.

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“Mr. Halliday is giving him the supermarkets,” Marcy whispered back. “All of them. And he didn’t even have to ask.” What? Whoa! Back up! Noisily clearing her throat, Tess turned. Both secretaries jumped. “Who’s your aunt, Marcy?” The girl blushed. “I’m sorry, Miss Sheridan. I know I shouldn’t—” “Who’s. Your. Aunt?” “V-Virginia Winslow.” Ah, nepotism. And the cracker-muncher possessed the gall to cast aspersions on Zach? “I see.” Tess smoothed her skirt with deceptively calm movements. “Do you think your aunt would appreciate you spreading rumors?” “It’s not a rumor. It’s—” “And if it isn’t a rumor, do you believe your Aunt Virginia would approve of you snooping through her files?” Marcy’s face twisted. “Please, Miss Sheridan, I can’t lose this temp job. The baby was a surprise, and I need the money.” A surprise pregnancy? Like Tess had been to her parents. For the sake of Marcy’s baby, she hoped the young woman learned responsibility fast. She softened her tone. “Listen, Marcy, I know the secretaries talk, but not about confidential client issues, all right? I’m sorry, but if this happens again, I can’t protect you. As it is, I have to tell your aunt.” “Oh crap, no! Really?” “I’m afraid so.” “I u-understand. I wasn’t thinking. I haven’t told anyone but Sammi. W-will you tell Aunt Virginia that, too?”

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Tess nodded. “Sammi, please keep this quiet.” “Definitely, Miss Sheridan.” “Thank you. Now, back to work, both of you.” She shooed them off, feeling older than Queen Elizabeth the First when the secretaries practically genuflected before fleeing. Alone, she lifted her coffee mug. No way could Zach already know about his father’s plans. If Marcy’s tale held true, Zach would be livid, and Tess couldn’t blame him. What was his father thinking? She set down her mug and searched out her boss. As she approached the desk of his executive assistant, the woman’s iron-gray eyebrows raised. “Is Lawrence available, Glynnis?” Tess asked. “I need to see him. It’s important.” “To do with?” “The Crockett’s Fine Foods acquisition.” Glynnis nodded. “Have a seat.” “Thanks, but I’ll stand.” Tess adjusted her chignon while Glynnis buzzed Lawrence. So much for needing caffeine. Marcy’s story had shocked her wide awake. Glynnis glanced up from her phone. “Mr. Greenburg is finishing a call. You may go in, but please wait until he finishes to address him.” No duh. “Thank you, Glynnis.” Tess knocked on the office door before entering. Taking the chair across from Lawrence’s desk, she placed a finger to her lips to indicate she’d remain quiet. Finally, he hung up. He rose and buttoned his suit jacket over his huge frame. “Teresa, always a pleasure. What brings you here?” He strolled around the desk. Standing, she shook his hand. “Good morning, sir.”

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“Please, we’ve been through this. Call me Lawrence.” “I’m sorry. Lawrence.” Plastering on a smile, she sat again. Lawrence relaxed against the front of the desk, his hands clasped over his stomach. Tess began, “I’m not sure how to say this, so I’ll just plunge in. I heard a disturbing rumor a few minutes ago.” She felt like a kid squealing on a classmate. However, Lawrence deserved to hear the gossip about his oldest friend and client, so he could rectify the damage. A frown formed on his forehead. “Glynnis said you wished to speak to me about the Crockett’s deal.” “I do.” Tess relayed what she’d overheard. Her boss’s expression grew thoughtful, and hope shot through her that Marcy had been wrong. Then Lawrence sighed, and Tess’s hope wilted. “Marcy Cook is Virginia’s niece. She’s not very experienced. Virginia tried to do her a good turn by having her replace Sharon while Sharon recovers from surgery. I’ll have Virginia speak to the girl about the conduct expected of our legal secretaries.” “Then what Marcy said is true?” He nodded. “For several months, Graham has been searching for a project Zachary can sink his teeth into. You remember Zachary’s ideas during the consultation and how he expressed interest in the projections? That’s the most interest he’s ever displayed in any Halliday venture.” Tess’s stomach churned. She’d fabricated Zach’s interest in the projections! “The supermarkets require Zachary’s forthright style. Graham grasped that immediately.” Tess shifted in her chair. “But Zach, uh, Zachary isn’t aware of his father’s plans?” Lawrence shook his head.

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“What if Zach doesn’t want the supermarkets?” “A possibility. I counseled Graham to discuss the matter with his son. However, Graham feels that choosing for Zachary is the correct approach. The boy is nearly thirty-one years old. If he didn’t want his decisions made for him, he would have commandeered his own future by now. Yet he hasn’t.” Yes, he has, but nobody knows! “In some ways, I agree with Graham,” Lawrence said. “I’m fond of the boy, but he needs to grow up.” Leaning forward, he patted her shoulder. “Like you, Teresa. Zachary could learn from your example. Always a stellar performance. Always both eyes set firmly on your goal.” She offered a weak smile, gut knotting. Should she tell Lawrence about Zach’s plans? If she did, would her boss feel compelled to report the news to Graham? How would Zach feel if Tess betrayed his confidence? And what would Lawrence think of her secrecy? Would he reconsider her future with the firm? Too many questions battered her brain. She knew better than to make impulsive decisions. Whenever she did, she wound up in a pile of trouble. Swallowing, she rose from her chair. “Thank you for your honesty, Lawrence.” He pushed off the desk. “I trust it doesn’t upset you that I haven’t mentioned these circumstances before? The matter was to remain between myself, Virginia and Graham.” Tess nodded. She only handled the grunt work. “You understand this is a matter of utmost confidentiality,” her boss stated. “I cannot have this conversation revealed outside this office. I will advise Graham of these events, Virginia shall speak to Marcy, and I expect you to speak to Samantha. Is the girl reliable?”

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“In my experience, very.” “Good.” He walked her to the door. “We’ll deal with this, Teresa. I’ve known Graham Halliday for over forty years. It’s our job to protect his interests above all others. Understood?” “Yes.” The ramifications rang clear. If she told Zach—if she told anyone—she was sunk. First her parents, now this. Her week couldn’t get any worse.

Zach paced his living room, eyeing the bathrobes draping the leather armchair. He hadn’t seen Tess since she’d received the news about her parents. When he’d spied the his-and-hers robes this afternoon in a store window near the Climbing the Walls site, he’d envisioned how sexy she’d look cuddled in the plush, off-white fabric. On a whim, he’d bought both bathrobes. Hers featured pink trim while his boasted navy. Would she think them corny? Considerate? Sweet? A hint that he wanted to get naked as soon as she arrived? Her knock sounded at his door. As she entered, worry carved her features. She dumped her purse and laptop case on the foyer bench. Zach wrapped her in a bear hug. “Babe, what is it?” “I’ve had a harrowing day. It’s so good to see you, Zach.” “Ditto.” Her heart pounded against his chest. “More bad news about your parents?” Her spine stiffened. “I don’t want to think or talk. Not yet.” She leaned back within his embrace. “Make love with me.”

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The anxiety in her blue eyes socked him in the solar plexus. “I bought something for us,” he murmured, rubbing her arms. Her worry dimmed. “You did?” “Check out the armchair.” Looping an arm around her shoulders, he walked her into the living room. “If you don’t like them, I can return—” She squealed. “I love it!” She plucked the pink-trimmed robe off the chair. “Look! One for you!” She lifted the navy-trimmed robe. Zach chuckled as she passed him his robe. She put hers on over her skirt and blouse. “A perfect fit.” She twirled. “Like me and you.” A naughty glint brightened her eyes. “I don’t know. You’re a tight squeeze, big boy.” His big boy stirred in his jeans. “Want to test them out?” “Goodie, we’ve reached the great sex part.” She had that right. They were explosive together. “Here?” His couch remained one of their favorite lovemaking spots. She shook her head. “You bought us bathrobes—let’s take a bath. Lord knows I could use a long, wet fuck.” Laughing, he followed her into his bedroom. They passed Lump napping on the king-sized bed. Without removing her robe, Tess shucked off her shoes, skirt and panties. Not wanting to fall behind, Zach chucked his robe through the open bathroom door onto the tiles and scrambled out of his jeans and T-shirt. By the time Tess joined him—the remainder of her clothes littering the tiles, her hair free of her tidy bun, and her mound whisked clean of the dainty curls he’d noticed re-growing last Thursday—he’d begun running hot water in his big soaker tub and had crouched at the vanity to search the lower cabinet.

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“Do you have bath beads?” she asked, faucet gurgling as she sank into the steaming water. “Do I look like a guy who’d hoard bath beads?” “What are you doing, then?” “I bought a new box of condoms, but can’t remember where I put them.” One glimpse of her freshly shaven folds had plummeted his blood to his cock. He was lucky he could speak. She relaxed against the sloped tub. The low water sloshed. “We don’t have to worry about birth control, Zach. My period’s due tomorrow.” His balls tightened. The first time he’d feel her slick vagina squeezing his naked cock? He was all over that action. “Are you sure?” He stood. “I’m like a clock. Sometime after supper tomorrow, Auntie Flo will visit.” She lifted her tits. “You can tell if you feel my breasts. They’re full and tender. I’m swollen down below, too.” Her fingers skipped to her mound. Zach hurried to the tub and killed the faucet. He’d dated women who’d bitched about water retention, but Tess made her feminine cycle sound erotic. “Scoot forward,” he said. “I’ll sit behind you.” “Not so fast.” Sitting up in the water, she planted one hand on his hip and grasped his erection with the other. “Kneel halfway down.” Zach groaned. Hunkering on the bath mat, he gripped the tub edge. His erection bobbed an inch below her mouth. She kissed the tip, then licked off the drop of pre-come and looked up. “Can you stay in that position?” she asked. “Oh yeah.”

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“Good.” Her fingertips grazing his balls, she slurped his cock into her mouth. Her hot tongue swirled, and her lips moved up and down. Sucking him gently at first then growing firmer and sliding faster. His knees grinding against the cold side of the tub, he pumped his hips. Her fingernails scraped his sac, and the skin contracted. His orgasm threatened. “Tess, baby, it’s been four days.” “Come,” she murmured against his length. “It’s okay.” “What about you?” She licked the head. “I’ll get you going again.” Jesus. “Hurry, Halliday. I want to swallow you.” His fingertips as rigid as iron pegs on the tub edge, he thrust into her mouth. Never releasing the fantastic suction on his cock, she groped his balls. Within seconds, he exploded, and come surged down her throat. She swallowed every drop. Licking her lips, she leaned back in the tub. Zach’s thighs ached. “I think you broke me.” Her tinkling laugh echoed in the big bathroom. Slowly, he straightened. “Now scoot forward.” The water splashing around her, she moved forward in the tub. Zach sat behind her with his knees raised on either side of her hips. Cupping her upper arms, he positioned her spine against his chest. Her head rested on his shoulder. Her sunshiny curls tickled his skin and his flaccid penis nestled against her warm back as he skimmed wet hands over her breasts. She moaned. He teased both nipples until they stood erect. He slipped one hand between her legs, massaging her clit and playing with her folds. Her hips undulated in the low water. As she’d predicted, his hard-on returned.

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“Want to climb on board?” he whispered. Nodding, she rose and turned. Zach closed his legs, and his cock jutted. She sank onto her knees in the sloshing water and inched his erection inside her. At the first contact of skin on skin, he raked in a breath. “Babe, I doubt I’ll last any longer than I did the first time.” “That’s okay. I’m ready.” Knees cradling his hips, she rode him. Zach lifted them out of the water as much as possible, increasing the slickness and tension of their bodies. He drew one of her nipples into his mouth. Her back arched. “Tug it with your lips, Zach. Suck it hard.” “You said they’re tender,” he murmured against her breast. “I don’t want to hurt you.” “Do it, Zach. Do it now. Please.” He tightened his lips around her nipple and tugged. Licked the areola. Then sucked the tip into his mouth again and flicked his tongue against it. She squirmed, crying out. Her channel pulsed around him. He released her nipple, and she lowered her head to capture his mouth. They kissed deeper and deeper, heartbeats going berserk while their bodies soared. Thirty minutes later, Zach cuddled Tess on his large leather couch. Her damp hair moistened his skin through his new bathrobe. “You haven’t said how your talk went with your sisters.” He squeezed her arm. “We’ve been too busy,” she replied in a well-loved voice. Contentment curled within him. Before he’d given her the bathrobe, the worry in her gaze and the stiff set of her shoulders had relayed her anxiety about

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her parents. Like always, making love with her had felt incredible, but if she didn’t share her thoughts about her family, her parents’ issues would eat away at her. “We’re not too busy now. Did you tell your sisters that your mom wants you to speak to your dad?” Nodding, she lifted her cup of herbal tea and sipped. Steam curled from the mug, and the cinnamon scent plumped the air. “We all agree that Mom should talk to Dad, not me or Randi or Jenna. But Dad won’t see her yet. Randi met him at his hotel, and he said he’s had enough.” “Of what?” “Mom’s accusations.” She sipped her tea again. “Is your dad cheating?” “I don’t know. Mom doesn’t, either, despite what she said at my place. That’s what she wants me to find out when Dad and I have dinner.” “No kidding.” What odd family dynamics. “And if he is unfaithful?” “Then she wants him to stop.” Zach grunted. “She’ll take him back?” “Yes. Unless something major happens, they’ll keep making each other miserable.” “What a complicated relationship.” That was putting it mildly. “A world of difference from your parents, huh?” “I’ll say.” He massaged her shoulder. “Has your father cheated on your mom before?” Zach could never cheat on Tess. He’d played it loose long enough to realize casual sex wasn’t the joyride he’d once thought. He’d choose a lifetime of commitment-enhanced lovemaking any day. “Not that I’m aware of. Although, I could be wrong. He and a female coworker had a close friendship years ago. You know, one of those ‘work-wife’

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relationships that gets out of hand. He denied to Mom that they slept together, and he ended it to work things out with her. Or, I should say, to keep our family together.” “He shouldn’t have deceived your mother in the first place, babe. In her mind, he probably cheated on her by caring for another woman that deeply.” “You’re right.” She shifted in his arms. “Sometimes I worry that growing up in a dysfunctional family has warped my thinking, Zach. I’m not excusing my father’s behavior, but my mother has extremely high standards. I think Dad’s feelings for Darla caught him off-guard. He’d never been in love before.” “Your father’s never loved your mother?” Then why had the idiot married her? “No,” Tess replied in a forlorn tone. “In the beginning, they had fireworks, and he’s always cared about her. He’s felt a duty toward her, I suppose, but I don’t know if he’s ever truly loved her.” “Christ, what a mess.” Zach’s relationship with Tess had begun with lust, too. That, in itself, wasn’t unusual. However, for him, at least, their physical attraction had blossomed into so much more. “Dad doesn’t love her how she needs him to love her, at any rate,” Tess said. “Maybe he thought his feelings would develop over time.” She fell silent. Moments later, she whispered, “He married her because she was pregnant, Zach. With me.” “Aw, babe.” Zach extracted the mug from her hands and set it on the coffee table. She turned onto her side, nestling beneath his arm. “How long have you known that?” “Since I was ten. Mom’s always been vocal about her unhappiness. Not outside the family, though, like she did with you last week. She was appalled at her behavior. Maintaining appearances is very important to her.”

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“Don’t worry about it. She apologized.” “Through me!” “Doesn’t matter. She’s facing a bitch of a situation. I’d be an asshole not to forgive her.” “Thank you.” Tess’s voice sounded small. He stroked her hair. “So your dad has never really loved your mom. Does she love him?” A tiny shrug. “She says she does. But if what my mom feels for my dad is love, then I hope love never happens to me. She’s so needy. She doesn’t give him any room. She never has.” “She smothers him.” “Yes. She’s so desperate for him to love her. But is desperation love?” “Not to me.” Gently, Zach turned up her face. Her blue eyes glistened. “I can understand loving someone desperately, but not loving someone out of desperation, because you think you’re not good enough without them. Is that how your mom feels?” “I think so.” Her pale eyelashes swept down then up. “Thanks for talking to me about this.” “My pleasure. I can’t stand to see you hurting.” Myriad emotions flickered in her gaze. Deep affection, gratitude, a swirling of worry and reluctance. “I don’t deserve you,” she whispered. “I’m not much of a prize, remember? You once told me to disappear.” “My opinion has changed, Mr. Halliday. I’d cry buckets now if you left me.” “Good.” He kissed her then stroked her hair again. “I can’t see you much this week.”

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“I understand.” Her family crisis and her work for L.G. took precedence. “Hey, I saw your boss Saturday night.” She blinked. “Where?” “Dad and Olivia returned from their business trip, so L.G. and Doris invited them and Ethan and me for dinner. Ethan brought Chloe. Didn’t she tell you?” “She phoned me at work today. She mentioned having dinner with Ethan after they went sailing, but I don’t remember where she said they went. I wasn’t really listening.” Faint color dusted her cheeks. “Considering the hell your family is going through, I’m surprised you remember your name, sweets.” He hugged her. “Anyway, it was a nice evening. Dodie’s a fantastic cook.” Tess chuckled. “What kind of name is Dodie?” “It’s L.G.’s pet name for his wife. He uses formal names for everyone but Doris.” “That’s sweet.” Tess chewed her lip. “Any shop talk?” “Dad and L.G. ducked into the den for a bit, but didn’t ask me or Ethan to join them.” Both men had sent Zach covert looks once they’d emerged. Fearing they might bring up Halliday business, Zach had yammered about his golf game. Soon, all four men were exchanging putting tips while Dodie had toured Chloe around the Greenburg mansion. The moment had spurred Zach to re-examine his stance on the secrecy surrounding Climbing The Walls. Now, he asked Tess, “Do you still think I should tell Dad about the climbing center?” “Why, does he suspect something?” “Maybe. I might take your advice and speak to him, after all.” Then he and Tess wouldn’t need to wait until the climbing gym opened to take their relationship public.

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She’d be his as soon as the ink dried on the Crockett’s deal.

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Chapter Nineteen

An alien had hijacked Chloe Nichols’s life. The creature looked like Chloe, walked and talked and scarfed down Cheerios with the same enthusiasm as Chloe, but didn’t stress over aging ovaries and no-dating commitments like the woman of the last several months. Chloe didn’t know what good she’d done to deserve the happiness floating her way, but she planned to never let it go. Whistling an old Dixie Chicks tune, she passed a caramel latte to the last predinner-rush customer. “Thank you. Have a great night.” The young man left, and she tidied a stack of take-out lids. Jonnie entered the coffeehouse and plopped a pharmacy bag onto the counter. “As requested, one package of square Band-Aids,” he said. “Thanks.” Chloe peeked into the bag while Jonnie donned his apron. The new supply would carry her nicely through her next few dates with Ethan. Some women stockpiled condoms, but Chloe now believed in too-soon-in-therelationship-for-sex protection. “Why so many square ones?” Jonnie took the box out of the bag. “Planning for a parachute not to open?” “Never mind!” Chloe grabbed the box. Sara returned from clearing tables. “Bandages? That’s what you needed for your date with Ethan?” Jonnie griped, “You sent me to the drugstore and didn’t say zip about another date!”

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Sara tapped her chin. “I once had a friend whose mm-hmms—” she pointed to her nipples “—were so sensitive that she wore bandages around her new boyfriend so she wouldn’t attack him.” Her eyes rounded. “Oh!” “Aw, shaddup.” Chloe stuffed the box back into the bag. “You seriously believe Band-Aids will stop you from attacking The Suit?” Jonnie asked as Frank emerged from the washroom hallway. “They’ve already stopped me from attacking him.” Multiple times. Thanks to Tess’s brainwave. “You don’t want to attack The Suit?” Frank asked as if the idea lacked logic. “Of course I want to attack him.” Chloe flaunted a shoulder. “When the timing’s right.” “Oops, boss,” Jonnie said. “You’d better stash that box—” “Because lover boy is here,” Frank broke in. “In Hugo Boss, no less. Very sigh-worthy, Chlo.” Chloe pivoted on her heels. “Ethan! You’re early.” She stashed the bandages into her purse on the shelf below the cash register and exited the serving area to meet him. “I had to rearrange my schedule.” He gathered her into his arms for a brief kiss. “Dad called an unexpected meeting for tomorrow morning, which required bumping a breakfast appointment to a late dinner tonight. Do you hate me?” “Never.” She kissed him again. They’d only been dating a week. Aside from not doing the dirty yet, she’d greedily lured him away from his corporate responsibilities more evenings than not. Now she’d share him. A closing date loomed for one of his father’s business deals, necessitating his presence. As a manager, she understood the importance of the bottom line. “We’ll make up for tonight another time.”

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He caressed her lower back. “I’m not sacrificing tonight with you, honey. I’ll have to leave early, but that doesn’t mean we need to scrap all our plans.” “Dinner is out. I can’t have you eating two and getting fat.” He chuckled. “We can still do the other?” Park his car in a secluded area and neck like two teenagers? “I wouldn’t miss it.” Touching of Breasts was no longer an issue. She had her secret weapon. “Can I steal your boss away early?” Ethan asked her employees. Jonnie sighed. “Anything for a couple in love.” Sara and Frank nodded. Chloe’s heart somersaulted. In love. After a week? Well, a week of dating. Several weeks of tiptoeing around their instant attraction. Yes. In love. And without sex. What a rush! Ethan grinned. “Let’s go. Thanks, everyone. We’ll invite you to the wedding.” Chloe’s heart high-kicked into a gymnastics routine. She retrieved her purse. As they left the coffeehouse, Ethan gazed down at her. “There’ll be one sooner or later, right?” “A wedding?” she asked, and he nodded. “Kids, a mortgage, maybe buy this place from the owner so you can be your own boss. All of it, Chloe. Eventually. When we’re ready.” His sensible yet sexy nature softened her heart to putty. “Oh, Ethan. Yes.” She grasped his hand. “There will be.”

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Zach didn’t appreciate this last-minute summons to his father’s office when he’d wanted to work alongside the renovation crew throughout the day. Stopping at his apartment to change clothes so Dad wouldn’t catch wind of his project had been a major pain in the ass, too. Tess’s suggestion to come clean about the climbing center increased in appeal with each passing hour. He paced the rug near the fancy French provincial desk his mother had selected over twenty years ago. If she were alive, would Zach even have found himself in this fix? She’d always supported his need to be himself. Shit, Ethan might love patterning himself after their big-business-whiz father, but Zach preferred a smaller, more personal scale. Like Floretta Angelina Manzinelli with her tiny shop of scented candles, soaps and incense. Unfortunately, before Tess had entered his life, Zach had lacked the balls to put his dreams first. His obsession about disappointing his father needed to stop today. The office door opened. Ethan, wearing one of his customary gray suits, stepped inside and closed the door. “Dad summon you, too?” Zach shoved his hands into his pants pockets. His brother nodded. “Is he here yet?” Zach scanned the empty office. “Does it look like he is? I don’t have a clue what this meeting is about, Eth. Do you?” Ethan glared at him. “What’s your problem?” “Sorry. I feel like crap, but that’s no excuse to treat you lousy.” “Forget it.” Ethan blew out a breath. “Yes, I know why Dad called us here. He wants to tell you, though. Remember, Zach, this is his gig, not mine.” Zach studied his brother. All summer, Ethan had worked his ass off for Halliday Enterprises while, from Ethan’s perspective, it probably looked like

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Zach had fucked the dog. Meeting Chloe had restored a lot of Ethan’s longabsent energy. However, today, haggard lines marred his face. Zach wrapped an arm around his brother’s shoulders. “Eth, I’ve seen you like this too many times before. Chloe not relaxing you how you need?” Laughing, Ethan shook off Zach’s arm. “None of your business.” Mission accomplished: his brother sounded thirty-four again instead of eighty. “What’s wrong with a little locker-room talk?” “That’s how you feel? Then give me the goods on Tess.” “Her name’s Teresa around Dad, remember—” until the Crockett’s deal closed “—and the Pacific will freeze before I say one word about what she’s like in the bedroom.” Ethan shrugged. “Then don’t expect to hear about my sex life.” “Oh, really? Chloe sounds special to you.” A wide smiled wreathed his brother’s face. “She is.” Their father entered, a leather portfolio tucked under one arm. “Ethan, Zach. How are my boys?” “Fantastic,” Zach replied. Aside from needing to deflate Dad’s dream of running Halliday Enterprises with both sons. “Good. You’re probably wondering why I called you here.” “Yep.” Maybe if he acted like leaving the company wasn’t a big deal, his father would respond likewise. “Please sit down.” Ethan sank onto one of two leather armchairs grouped with a matching love seat. Dad usually preferred the second armchair, so Zach sat on the love seat and adjusted his pants at the knees. He glanced from Dad to Ethan, and his brain buzzed. Something major is up.

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“Dad, I’d like to discuss a project with you,” he broached. Best to deflect the conversation before the pair finagled him into helping with another Halliday venture. “Crockett’s?” Dad asked. “Uh, no. Isn’t that nearly done?” As closing dates loomed, the need for Zach’s people skills decreased. “Yes, Crockett’s is about to become ours. And it’s my gift to you.” Dad placed the leather portfolio on the coffee table and slid the zippered case across to Zach. Zach gawked at the portfolio. “Huh?” “Your birthday present,” Dad said. Zach laughed. “Crockett’s?” “I’m not going senile. I realize your birthday is in November, and I wanted to surprise you with the news then. However, two days ago, Lawrence advised me that one of his secretaries leaked my intentions. I discussed the situation with Ethan, and he convinced me to approach you now.” Zach looked at his brother. “You knew about this?” “Unfortunately, yes.” Ruddy color washed Ethan’s face. “And you didn’t tell me?” “I asked him not to,” Dad said. Zach lifted a hand. “This is a practical joke, right?” he asked Eth. “And you convinced Dad to play into it. Very clever.” Ethan rolled his eyes. “Zach, in case you haven’t noticed, Halliday is experiencing a monster growth mode. I’m too busy to play games.” “But when you’re most stressed is when you usually cut loose.” “Not this time.” Zach looked at Dad, then Ethan again. “You’re serious.”

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Both men nodded. “I know you’ll excel at managing the supermarkets, son,” Dad said. “You’ve never shown interest in spearheading our deals, but Crockett’s will be your company, to oversee how you see fit. How does that sound?” Zach’s gut fisted. “Awful.” “Excuse me?” “I’m not running Crockett’s.” Zach shoved the portfolio back across the table. “I can’t think of anything less intriguing.” “I see.” Dad patted a knee. “You’re surprised. Take a few days to let the idea sink in. Then, if Crockett’s doesn’t interest you, Ethan is working on the Rockford Brothers’ luxury car dealerships. They might be more your style.” “Yeah, right. When I took those bozos sailing in June, I got so sick of hearing about their stuffy car dealerships that I almost jumped overboard.” “You’re exaggerating.” “Sorry, Dad. No car dealerships.” Ethan’s gaze darted skyward, as if to say, I knew it. “What, then?” their father asked. “Video-Flix? The Richmond mall?” Zach stood. “No. No Rockford Brothers, no Video-Flix, and no malls. Dad, you should have asked me about this.” “I’ve asked about expanding your participation in Halliday for years, son, and we’ve gotten nowhere.” “Did you ever think why that might be?” “Sit down, Zachary. Let’s discuss this rationally.” “I’m not sitting down.” He sounded like a spoiled brat, ungrateful for everything his father had done for him. “I’m leaving Halliday Enterprises. I’m starting my own business.” His father and Ethan exchanged surprised glances.

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“You’re scouting opportunities for Halliday?” Dad’s forehead puckered. “No. This isn’t a chain, just one place. My place.” Ethan scratched his jaw. “When did this happen?” “Been in the planning stages all summer. Incorporated last month. The opening’s in November.” In time for his birthday. The height of irony. Quickly, he outlined his plans. “I realize that before now it might have looked like I was slacking off. However, as you can see, I’ve had my own dreams all along.” His father waved a hand. “How will you finance this climbing center?” “The insurance money from Mom. When the proceeds from my trust fund kicked in, I invested my portion into high-risk markets, sold them before they crashed, and stashed the profits. Contrary to popular belief, I didn’t fritter away my legacy or my future.” Ethan sighed. “You should have said something before now, Zach.” “I’m an adult. I don’t have to run to my daddy about every little thing.” “Hey!” Ethan sprang off his chair. “I’m talking basic consideration. If you wanted out of Halliday, you should have told Dad years ago.” “You’re right, I should have. But it takes some of us a bit longer to find our way. Especially when it’s drilled into you that you’ll follow in your father’s footsteps. Hell, do you think I wanted to disappoint Dad? Since Mom died, all I’ve heard is that the Halliday boys need to stick together. I’ll stick like glue, but not on this point.” “Boys! Arguing won’t solve anything. Zachary, sit down. Ethan!” Ethan shook his head. “I don’t have time for this. I rescheduled my day to accommodate this meeting.” A stern frown hooked their father’s mouth. “This is your brother’s future. You’ll make time.”

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Swearing, Ethan sat. Zach jammed himself onto the love seat, his jaw clamped. Dad leaned forward, hands clasped on his knees. “It’s time for you to choose, Zach. The supermarkets, the car dealerships, or the Richmond mall. Operate the climbing center if you must, but as a sideline. Your plans are too focused on niche marketing to succeed.” “That’s bullshit, Dad. Starbucks started as a niche market.” “Zachary.” Swiping a hand in the air, Zach stood again. “No. That’s it. I’m finished.” “You’re finished when I say you are.” “Like hell. Damn it, Dad, I’ve spent my life trying to be who you want me to, and I’m miserable for it. It’s time I made my own way. I need to.” “With Crockett’s, you can make your own way.” “No, I can’t. You’re a self-made businessman. You should understand where I’m coming from. But you don’t.” Zach marched to the door. Only one person could help him cut through this mess. Tess. He had to see her. “Where are you going?” his father’s voice boomed. “Into my future.”

“Thanks, Teresa,” Phil said, opening his office door for her. “I’ll finish my end and report to you Monday.” They stepped into the hall banking the secretarial pool. “Sounds good.” Tess forced a smile until Phil closed the door again. She’d had it up to her earrings with the Crockett’s deal. Since learning about Graham Halliday’s plans, even her involvement with the grunt work felt like a betrayal of Zach. She couldn’t dump this final stretch on Phil, though. Besides that she’d

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actually grown marginally fond of the guy, she couldn’t risk Lawrence Greenburg’s disapproval. She eyed her own office door, two down from Phil’s. Clutching the Halliday files, she approached Sammi’s desk. Sammi lifted her hands from her computer keyboard. “Hi, Miss Sheridan.” “I’m holing up for the rest of the day, Sammi. Please don’t put through any calls unless they’re vital.” She wanted to devote this weekend to Zach, not spend it toiling on the acquisition. That gave her the remainder of the week to tie up loose ends. “Um, okay. But, I’m sorry, Miss Sheridan, someone’s already in your office. He says he’s a client.” “Teddy Wallis?” Yesterday, Sydney van Hoyt had mentioned that Teddy might drop by. Technically, Teddy wasn’t a client yet, but Tess was making progress. “He asked me not to say. But if you want me to—” “No, that’s okay.” Since the break-room incident, trepidation had shadowed Sammi’s behavior. Tess wanted to reassure the girl that she didn’t hold her responsible for Marcy’s mistake. “I’ll find out soon enough.” Tess entered her office, and warmth rushed through her. Zach—not Teddy— stood at the window, his back to her as he gazed out over the street scene. “Hi, lover,” she whispered, closing the door. He faced her. “Tess.” The lines crinkling his forehead smoothed. “Babe, I’m so happy to see you.” “How long have you been waiting? Is something wrong at the climbing cent—”

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The remainder of her question lodged in her throat. Zach wrapped her in his arms, and the Halliday files in her hands crushed between their bodies. “I need to talk.” Gruff need roughened his voice. “What’s wrong?” Tess set the files on her desk. A confidential memo from Lawrence regarding Marcy’s indiscretion slid out of the top folder. She shoved it into place. “You won’t believe what just happened,” Zach muttered. She scrutinized his rigid stance. Restrained anger darkened his eyes. Despite that she wore a long-sleeved blouse with her skirt, her skin popped out in goose bumps. He knows. “Wh-what?” “I’ve just come from a very illuminating meeting with Dad and Ethan.” “Did you tell them about Climbing The Walls?” Over these last two tormenting days, she’d prayed countless times that he would. He nodded. “I didn’t call the meeting. Dad did. Once there, I knew I had to tell him, but he beat me to the punch with his own news.” Tess’s stomach cramped. “What news?” “Crockett’s. Seems dear old Dad wants to give me the supermarkets for my birthday. Ever hear a more asinine idea?” “It’s not so ludicrous, Zach. You have excellent business instincts.” “And I intend to implement them. But on my terms, not his.” “Your father didn’t know that. You said he’s tried to convince you to take an active role in the company for years. Maybe this was his misguided attempt to— ” “Choke me until I can’t breathe? Then he’s succeeded. I love my father, babe. I owe him a hell of a lot. But he stepped way over the line here.”

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“Maybe he’ll change his mind.” “No. He thinks I’m a slack-ass and that the climbing center is a waste of time.” He pinched his nostrils. Tess touched his arm, the warm, masculine skin and coarse, dark hair. “I’m sorry.” “Thank God I have you in my life, babe. My father’s planned this fiasco for ages. And Ethan—my own brother. He should have told me.” “Maybe he couldn’t. Maybe your dad asked Ethan to keep the details confidential. You didn’t tell Ethan about the climbing gym so he wouldn’t feel torn between you and your father, right? But your father did tell Ethan about his plans. When a superior asks that a business matter remain confidential, it puts a person in a tight spot, Zach.” He smiled, but frustration skulked in his tightly set jaw. “How did you get so smart?” Simple. I know how your brother feels. “I’m a lawyer. We deal with confidentiality issues all the time.” Like Zach’s request about Climbing The Walls. “Dad said he told me about Crockett’s now because a leak occurred at this firm. Obviously, someone sucks at keeping secrets.” Zach hesitated. “You didn’t know about the Crockett’s thing, did you? Wait, forget I asked. You wouldn’t have agreed to represent me if you’d realized what Dad had planned.” Her face heated. “No, I wouldn’t have.” However, she was certainly keeping secrets from him now. And she hated it. So tell him, Tess. “You’re an honorable person, babe. The only person in my life who understands how important the climbing gym is to me.” He clasped her hands. Like a scene from a fairy tale, he lifted one hand to his mouth, turned it over and

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kissed her palm. His lips grazed the underside of her amethyst birthstone ring. “Thank you.” “Oh, Zach.” She lifted her gaze, and her insides shifted. Emotions she’d refused to let surface for weeks crashed in. She loved him. God, she loved him. His caring, his generosity, his sexy sense of humor. She loved Zach Halliday. How the hell had this happened? She tugged her hands free. He was supposed to be her boy toy, her hunk of burnin’ love, her randy piece of eye candy! Telling Chloe to stop haranguing her about the sex-for-sex’s-sake dare had been a monumental mistake. Without Chloe riding her, she’d slipped back into her old, destructive patterns. She couldn’t have sex without falling in love. Sure, loving Zach felt great now—actually, it felt terrible—but next thing she knew, she’d smother him with her desperation to receive love in return. Asking for more than any sane man wanted to give. Ruining the simplicity of their passion. Agh! What was wrong with her? She whirled around and straightened the files on her desk. “Tess?” She yanked pens and pencils from the ceramic holder and rearranged them according to barrel style and ink color. “Tess?” Her hands splayed. Compulsive tidying! Another Patrice Sheridan gene! She dumped the contents of the holder onto her desk. Zach stepped behind her, hands curving around her arms. He lowered his head to her ear, and she breathed in his clean, sexy scent. “What’s going on, babe?”

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“Nothing.” “Something’s definitely going on. Please talk to me, sweetheart.” She closed her eyes. Damn it, why couldn’t he be a manipulator? When she’d met him in Danver’s, he’d come across like a good-time sex machine. Exactly the sort of man who wouldn’t mind a woman using him in return. Who’d even find her bet with Chloe amusing. But no, Zach Halliday had to turn out to be one of the good guys. Monday, in his arms, she’d said she didn’t deserve him. She’d been right. “I have to tell you something,” she whispered. “What?” He rubbed her arms. Please stop that. The gentle caresses distracted her. “I knew—” her heart thudded “—about the Crockett’s leak. I found out on Monday.” “Sweetheart, that was two days ago.” She stared at her desktop. “I overheard secretaries talking. I went to Lawrence, and he confirmed the gossip. He said he’d speak to your father.” Zach’s hands fell off her arms. She faced him. “Zach, I’m sorry. I couldn’t tell you. Lawrence asked me not to.” “L.G. doesn’t know about us, babe.” “I—no. Lawrence didn’t ask me not to tell you, Zach. He doesn’t know about us. He asked me not to tell anyone. That’s how these things work.” “How these things work?” Zach scraped a hand over his face. “Tess, I realize you have ethics…” He understands. “…but they don’t include me?” “Of course they do.”

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“How can you say that? We made love on Monday. We were together for hours. You didn’t say a word.” She pressed a hand to her chest. “But I did. You asked if you should talk to your father, and I didn’t say not to.” Even as she spoke the words, they sounded like the worst excuse. “That’s all I could manage then. If I’d said more, I would have risked—” “What?” His eyebrows webbed. As if he didn’t know. She sighed. “My career, Zach. Lawrence asked me to leave the matter in your father’s hands. Mr. Greenburg specifically said the information was to stop with me. If I’d told you and then you’d gone to your father—” “Then maybe I wouldn’t have had to suffer the hell I went through today!” Any hope she’d harbored that he would comprehend her situation shriveled. She glanced at her office door. “Please, not so loud.” “Why? Afraid someone will hear us?” She reached out a hand. He didn’t grasp it. “Zach, I couldn’t tell you about your father’s plans the same way I couldn’t tell Lawrence about your plans.” He scowled. “Yeah, but you’re not sleeping with L.G., babe.” “I know I’m not sleeping with L.G.” Damn it! “With Lawrence!” “But you are sleeping with me, Tess. Or you were. I’d like to think there was more than sex between us.” “Zach, there was.” Her hands trembled. “There is.” “I don’t think so. Lawyers have ethics—I’m not clueless. But we had something. If you’d told me what you knew, I wouldn’t have breathed a word. I wouldn’t have gone to my father. I realize how important your career is to you. Do you think I would have put it in jeopardy?”

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“I don’t know.” He snorted. “Well, I wouldn’t have. Don’t you have any faith in me? Does no one in my life have faith in me?” He spoke the next words stiffly. “I would have kept it between us. I would have waited for my father to make the next move. If waiting meant keeping your dreams safe, Tess, I would have done it. But I didn’t get that chance. You didn’t give it to me.” She glanced away. She couldn’t look at him. He was right. She could argue that she’d had his best interests at heart, or that none of this would have happened if he’d told his father the truth weeks ago. If he’d allowed her to tell Lawrence. None of those arguments changed the fact that she could have divulged his father’s plans on Monday and not risked a damn thing. Because a man like Zach Halliday would do anything for someone he cared for. Would keep any secret—for her. Even if it was to the detriment of his relationship with his father, he would have done it. Her mouth dried. She really didn’t deserve him. She fiddled with a pen on her desk. “There’s more. R-remember how we met in Danver’s? Chloe dared me to hit on you. I only approached you that night because Chloe and I made a bet.” Shamed heated her. “Shit.” He rubbed his mouth. “Later on, I realized how out of character you’d acted. I suspected something—” He shook his head. “A bet?” “A dare, a bet. The wording doesn’t matter. I began sleeping with you to prove a point. Th-that I could have sex like a man, without emotional commitment. Chloe dared me to choose an empty-headed stud and go to bed with him.” His gaze glinted. “Empty-headed?”

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Damn it, he didn’t need to hear the gory details. “At the time, that was the gist of it. But not now, Zach. I’m sorry.” He ground out, “So why didn’t we only screw once? If you wanted to prove you could have sex like a man, why not go for the wham-bam, babe? We emptyheaded studs are famous for our love of one-night stands.” “Because the bet was for a six-week relationship. And I nearly made it. Chloe and I started counting the day you and I went golfing. Four weeks ago.” His eyes were wild. “I don’t believe this! You counted?” She nodded numbly. He stared at her as if she’d sprouted antennae. “Why are you telling me this now?” Because I just realized I love you. But she couldn’t confess her feelings while he reeled from the blowup with his father and her deal with Chloe. It felt like emotional manipulation, as if sweetly spoken words could atone for her wrongs. “Because you deserve the truth,” she mumbled. He tossed her a look of pure male aggravation. Testosterone unleashed. She shivered. “Great. Now I deserve the truth. I don’t know what your game is, Teresa, but I’m through playing. After the shit with my father today, I’ve had it.” Tears burned her eyes. “I don’t blame you.” “I’ve been played before, and I’ve done my share of playing. But, damn it, I thought we had something real.” “We do, Zach. We can.” “How? Where’s the trust? The honesty? The love? I don’t see it happening.” He stormed from her office.

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Chapter Twenty

“You’ve barely touched your salad, honey. Is something wrong?” Tess raised her gaze from her plate of fork-mutilated lettuce. Across the small table, her father polished off his escargot appetizer. They’d had reservations for Tanaka’s, but after the scene with Zach in her office yesterday she couldn’t handle the reminders of their private dinner in the tatami room. The Keg on Granville Island sat as far as possible from Tanaka’s while also providing a quick route back to the office. A crowd packed the popular steakhouse. Tess refused to dissolve into a quivering mass of tears in the public venue. She put down her fork. “I’m sorry, Dad. I’m not hungry.” “Problems at work?” he asked below the conversations swarming around them. “No.” Unless she counted that she was really starting to dislike her job. Files, files and more impersonal files. No human interaction. Who needed it? Her father looked at her. “I don’t believe you.” “Well, you know.” She sipped her iced tea. “It’s a heavy load.” “Heavier than you expected?” “Junior associates bear the brunt of the paperwork. That’s just how it is. I didn’t really mind before, but lately it feels dissatisfying.” Her unhappiness wasn’t only a result of her and Zach’s breakup. Rather, being with Zach these last several weeks had contributed to her restlessness, as if he’d opened a door she’d inadvertently closed on herself in her zest to outshine Phil Renfrew.

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“I know how dissatisfaction can weigh on a person,” her father said. “When you girls were small, the accounting practice grew by leaps and bounds. I was slow to accept that I needed a partner. The family time I sacrificed contributed to the problems between your mom and me.” “That kind of brings me to why we’re here,” Tess muttered as the waiter whisked away their appetizer plates. “I thought it might.” “Mom wants me to talk you out of the separation.” He nodded. “Randi told me. Tessie, I’m sorry. I don’t want to hurt you or your sisters. Or your mother, believe it or not. I have to take a hard line with her, though. I’m tired of her accusations.” Tess fidgeted with her napkin. Although she and her sisters often agreed that their parents might fare better apart, the reality of the situation stung. If Dad filed separation papers, they wouldn’t be a whole family anymore. Have we ever been? Not a family like Zach’s when his mom was alive, united by parents who loved and supported one another. The waiter returned with their entrées. As the young man set down their plates, Tess blinked back tears. The waiter joined a group of coworkers around a neighboring table. The group broke into a Happy Birthday chorus for the woman presented with a sparkler-topped slice of cheesecake. The smiling woman hugged the man beside her. Her husband? A hollow sensation chewed inside Tess. She gazed at her father. “What finally made you ask for a separation? Mom thinks—” just say it “—that you’re having an affair.” He swore. “That’s why. Tessie, I’m sick of her paranoia. I deserve it. But to have it continue for years?” He shook his head. “I am not having an affair. I have

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never had an affair. Your mother’s guilt has sparked her mistrust. I’d hoped, with time, she would overcome the negative feelings and we could move forward. But she hasn’t. We haven’t. That’s why our marriage is in deep trouble.” “What guilt?” “Your mother needs you right now,” he evaded, cutting into his prime rib. “You need me, too.” He sighed. “Learning the truth about one’s parents isn’t easy.” “What truth? Come on, Dad. We’ve never been a typical family, despite Mom’s attempts to pretend that we are.” The perfect house, the façade of parochial school, enough church attendance to satisfy the stalwart members of their former parish. “I know you and Mom got married because she was pregnant with me. I know about Darla. I’ve heard Mom’s side of the story countless times, yet you and I have only discussed your side once. Why not talk about it now?” Her father’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t care what your mother says, I did not cheat on her with Darla.” Tugging in a breath, he clasped Tess’s hand across the table. “I didn’t propose to Patrice only because she was pregnant. I cared for her and I wanted to do right by her, but I also wanted a home and family. My hope was that we could build one together. But your mother grew up in a difficult environment. Everything is a competition for her. Even love.” “And you couldn’t give her what she wanted.” His gaze appealed for her understanding. “I wasn’t dishonest. She knew before our marriage that I didn’t feel as strongly as she wanted. I tried making up for it by providing her with a nice home and lifestyle. She deserved more. She deserved a man who loved her with all his heart and soul. She still does.” Withdrawing his hand, he sipped his wine. “I’ll never regret marrying your mother, Tessie. I wanted to remain part of your life, and I wanted more children.

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I think I could have learned to love Patrice as deeply as she needed, if she’d only been honest.” Tess chewed a mouthful of chicken. Despite the tangy teriyaki marinade, the poultry tasted dry. She forced it down. “But you weren’t honest with Mom. You fell in love with Darla. Even if you didn’t physically cheat on Mom, you fell in love.” Her father’s sad smile aged him beyond his fifty years. “I did care deeply for Darla. However, as soon as I realized what was happening, I told Patrice. I asked her what she wanted to do, and she said for us to try again. I believed her.” Tess shook her head. “You told her about Darla? I always thought she found out.” “I told her as soon as I realized the relationship was about to grow physical.” He glanced away. “There’s a reason I went to your mother instead of sneaking around with Darla.” He mumbled, “I know how it feels…to learn your spouse is cheating.” Tess’s ears screamed. “What?” “I know how it feels to discover your spouse is cheating. It’s hurtful and humiliating. I didn’t want to put your mother through that.” He met Tess’s gaze. “Mom cheated on you?” “Before Jenna was born. I found out by accident, and she ended the relationship. Jenna was our attempt to repair the damage. As much as I love your little sister, I wouldn’t recommend having a baby to try and save a marriage, by the way.” Tess planted her palms on the table. “Dad, all these years Mom’s accused you of cheating. Now I find out she betrayed you?” “I think her guilt over her affair made her afraid I would retaliate. Thus the accusations. After I told her about Darla, she probably felt like she had more

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reason to suspect me. As for her affair, if I’d loved her how she deserved to be loved, she might not have felt the need to look for love elsewhere. I hold myself partly to blame.” “That’s just an excuse for her, Dad.” “No. It’s a reason. You were right when you said I betrayed your mother by developing feelings for Darla. I think learning I cared for another woman in a way your mom insisted I wasn’t capable of caring for her hurt her more than if I’d slept with Darla.” Tess blew out a breath. “I have a friend who would agree with you.” “She’s a smart girl.” “He’s a man.” After her horrible treatment of Zach yesterday, she probably stood zero chance of ever convincing him to become her friend, either. “A platonic friend or—?” “Or. Was. We broke up yesterday.” “Aw, Tessie. How long were you dating?” “About a month.” “And you care for him?” She nodded. “Bastard.” “It wasn’t his fault.” She poked her fork at her garlic mashed potatoes. “Things got complicated.” “They always do.” Her dad’s mouth firmed. “Your mom and I did this to you, Tessie. I’m sorry.” “Dad, I did this to myself.” “Kids learn by example. Patrice and I were poor ones. Our relationship has suffered incredible tension. You probably believe it’s abnormal to be happy. It’s not.”

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Tess closed her eyes, tears gathering. The murmur of voices and the low background music of the restaurant filled her ears. She wanted to sink into the din, shrink away until she was nothing, where the dull, aching emptiness couldn’t find her. Her parents were separating, her mother had more secrets than James Bond, she didn’t know what she wanted to do about her career and she’d destroyed the best thing in her life—her relationship with Zach. She opened her eyes. “I’ll find someone else.” She didn’t want anyone else. “Don’t settle, Tessie. If you want this man, tell him.” “I can’t. I’ve already hurt him. Why should he trust me?” “Maybe he feels as strongly as you do. You won’t know unless you tell him.” Her father picked up his wineglass. “I’m not settling anymore. You shouldn’t, either. For years, I allowed your mother to dictate our marriage, telling me I didn’t care enough for her when I know my emotions were true. I was a coward, not a man. No longer. If your mother wants me back, it’s on my terms this time. We buried our problems, and it hasn’t worked. I’ve asked her to attend marriage counseling more than once. She’s refused.” He put down his glass without drinking. “Your mother says she doesn’t want the separation? Then she has to work for our marriage, Tessie. We both do.” Her heart thumped. “You’re saying you and Mom might still work out?” “I’m willing to give it a good fight. That means counseling. That means ending the blame so we can discover if we have a chance at a real marriage. That’s what’s important to me, Tessie. If your mother and I can’t find a satisfying middle ground, then I will move on. Think about that in relation to your own life, honey. Consider what’s most important to you and what you’re willing to give up.”

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Zach yanked his protective eyewear out of his sports bag. “What are you doing here, Eth?” “I called Jeff for a solo practice slot. He said you’d already reserved one, so I changed it to a game slot.” Ethan twirled his racquet. “What do you say, little brother? Prepared to die?” Zach gritted his teeth. “I’m not playing with you, Eth.” “Afraid?” his brother jeered. Zach jammed on the eye gear and grabbed his racquet. What the hell had Chloe Nichols done to his brother? Ethan “The Suit” Halliday leaving the office midafternoon to sneak to the sports club and spring himself on Zach instead of staying behind and sucking up to Dad? As practical jokes went, this one blew. “No,” Zach growled. “Because you’re an asshole.” “And you’re an ignorant bastard. What else is new? Let’s play.” “What’s wrong with you?” Zach wanted to break a sweat and release his aggression alone, not with his traitor brother. Only two days had passed since he and Tess had split up and he’d discovered Dad and Ethan’s birthday surprise. He wasn’t ready to forgive either man for that disaster. Until he worked through the barrenness of his life without Tess, he’d feel useless to everyone around him. “What’s wrong with me?” Ethan echoed. “You really are ignorant, aren’t you? So eager to blame Dad for your chickenshit behavior that you can’t see how you contributed to this mess. Grow up, Zachster.” Zach smacked his racquet against his palm. “That’s it, ass-wipe. Put on your best suit for the funeral viewing, Eth, because I’m gonna bury you.” Ethan cackled as they raced onto the court. “My serve?”

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“Go ahead.” Zach prepared for the volley. “Might as well get used to spoonfeeding, bro. After I’m done, you’ll need a nursemaid the rest of your worthless life.” Ethan flipped him the finger. He served. The ball flew off the back wall, whizzing back and forth. From Zach to wall to Ethan, to wall to Zach again. Ethan murdered the sailing blue bullet. Zach lunged for the return, but missed. His shoulder slammed into the mesh-reinforced viewing window. “Fuck!” Ethan snickered. “Get up, cocksucker.” Puffing, Zach straightened. They started again. “You should have told me, Eth.” Whack. “Get over yourself, Zachy.” Whomp. “You told Dad you’re out of Halliday.” Whack. “So you are.” “That simple?” Whump. “Yep. Which proves what an idiot you are.” “This your idea of cheering me up?” Fwunk! Ethan flung him a glance. “Call her.” Zach’s foot twisted, and he stumbled. The echo of the bouncing racquetball reverberated off the walls. Game over. Now. Because he wasn’t doing this. He glared at Ethan. “So you came here to talk about Tess, not Dad. I take it Chloe told you?” “About their bet?” Ethan nodded. “It was a joke. Harmless fun. Like you once enjoyed. Shit, you thought I asked her to hit on you. I didn’t hear any whining about your dream girl then.”

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Zach stomped over to his club bag by the court door and dragged out a face towel. He heaved off his eyewear and chucked the racquet onto the floor. “Easy for you to say. You’re not in love with a woman who slept with you on a dare.” Ethan jogged up beside him. “If you love her, do something about it! Don’t procrastinate like you did with Dad.” Zach wiped his face. “Listen to you. A few dates with Chloe, and you’re Mr. Cupid and Dr. Phil.” Ethan stuffed his racquet into his club bag. “Chloe and I are the real thing.” He hunkered by the bag. “After she and Dad met at the Greenburgs’, Dad told me that once a Halliday man falls in love, that’s it. He mates with the woman for life. Unless something tragic happens, like with Mom.” Ethan rummaged through the bag. Had the dick left his towel in the locker room? “There’s a Halliday tradition of marrying soon after meeting the woman, too,” Eth said. “Think of Mom and Dad, Grandpa and Grandma Halliday, Uncle Andrew and Aunt Rosaline.” “Spare me the genealogy lesson. If this Halliday tradition holds true, why hasn’t Dad married Olivia?” Ethan shrugged. “A different stage of his life.” “I don’t see you proposing to Chloe.” “Not yet. But I will. We’ve made a conscious decision to take our time.” Clutching a tiny box, he stood. “Here.” He thrust the box at Zach. “Open it.” Zach popped up the dark blue lid. “What’s this?” A glittering diamond engagement ring in an old-fashioned setting nestled in a bed of satiny fabric. “I’ve heard of planning for the future, Eth, but this is beyond anal. You bought Chloe a ring even though you decided to wait?”

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“No, fuck-face. Look closer. Scuffed box, faded interior. It’s Mom’s engagement ring. Dad gave it to me years ago. He thought I’d get married first, because I’m oldest. But Chloe and I think you should have it.” “You do?” Zach’s throat tightened. His brother would relinquish this precious reminder of Mom? “Chloe wants to design her own ring,” Ethan said. But Zach wasn’t fooled. Giving him the ring was one hell of a gesture. “I don’t want it.” He snapped shut the box and pushed it into his brother’s hands. “You’re so fucking hardheaded, you could sell your brains for concrete.” Ethan tossed the box into Zach’s sports bag. “You’re irritating me, Eth.” Zach bent to the bag. “Touch that ring, little brother, and I’ll kick your ass.” Zach glanced up. “You’re insane.” He stood, and Ethan shoved him. Zach stumbled back onto the court floor. “Hey! What—” Ethan elbowed his chest, and Zach’s breath wheezed out. “—the fuck—” Ethan grappled Zach into a full Nelson. Ethan’s arms strained Zach’s pits, his hands ramming down Zach’s head. “—are you doing?” “Wrestling you for Mom’s ring.” “Dirty wrestling!” Zach struggled, but Ethan held tight. Shit, his brother was strong. “No rules, blow job.” “What’s at stake?” Zach grunted. “You’ll wrestle me if I tell you?”

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“If that’s what it takes.” Christ, they’d both lost it. “Let go, asshole. Fight fair.” Ethan released him. Sucking in air, Zach rolled his shoulders and rubbed his aching neck. “The stakes?” “I win, you keep the ring. You win, and I’ll propose to Chloe tomorrow.” Zach scoffed. “Does she know about this?” “No. She won’t hold it against me like you’ve done with Tess, though. Besides, I’m taller than you. I have the psychological advantage of age.” The cocky bastard shrugged. “I’ll win.” “You’re on.” The moron hadn’t uttered a word about Zach proposing to Tess. This fight was about possession. If Zach lost—like that would happen— he’d return the ring to Dad. He dove for his brother, plunging an arm between Ethan’s legs and whipping him over his back. Ethan’s head dangled over his ass. “Yeaaaaaahhhh!” Zach howled a wrestler war cry. Ethan swore. “What happened to fighting fair?” “I lied.” The fucker bit Zach’s ass. Zach’s hands sprang free. Ethan fell onto the court floor. “Shit, Eth! You okay?” “Grrrrrrr!” His brother lunged at him like a thick-skulled animal. An instant later, Zach’s face ground the court floor, hands and knees sliding as Ethan broke him down. The court door burst open. “Break it up!” The manager’s voice. Royally pissed off.

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Ethan climbed off Zach, breath laboring. “Sorry, Jeff. Just teaching my brother a lesson.” “Teach him somewhere else, damn it! Do I have to revoke your memberships?” “Sorry.” Zach wiped saliva off his chin and struggled to regulate his breathing. Gawkers had assembled outside the observation window. Tattletales. “I want you both out of here in five!” Jeff stomped off the court. Ethan grinned wickedly. “I won.” Zach rolled his eyes. “We were interrupted. It was a tie.” “You’re a coward, Zach. You know you love her. And she loves you.” No. The latter was something he did not know. “Hell, Eth, just because Chloe’s the love of your life doesn’t mean Tess is the love of mine.” “God, you’re brain dead.” Ethan threw Zach’s towel in his face. “Tell her you love her, apologize for blowing that stupid bet out of proportion, and stop acting like an ass.”

“I don’t know what to say, Tess. I’m really sorry.” “It’s not your fault, Chloe.” Tess pushed the toe of her runner into the sand. Chloe sat beside her, their bikes and helmets resting on a drift log. A breeze had swept in since Tess had left work. She’d donned a sweater over her T-shirt and sweats, then had biked to Kitsilano Beach to meet Chloe. “In a way, it is my fault,” Chloe said. “I didn’t have to dare you.” “I didn’t have to take you up on it.” “There’s a bright side.” Chloe offered a supportive smile. “Without the bet, you might never have met him.”

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“Yes, I would have. At the Crockett’s meeting.” Since breaking up with Zach, she’d confessed all to Chloe—how she’d pulled a scam by pretending she and Zach were dating, the sexy pro bono arrangement for Climbing The Walls, when she’d decided to pursue the bet for real. “But would you have spared him a second look?” Chloe asked. “Granted, he’s gorgeous. Well, not as gorgeous as Ethan, although that’s a matter of opinion.” Tess’s mouth curved up. Trust Chloe to help her feel not completely horrible. “You’re right, I probably wouldn’t have thought of him that way. I was too stuck on my ridiculous plan of dating safe guys while chasing a career I’m not sure I want anymore.” “You changed your mind about the partnership? What brought this on?” “Something Dad said at dinner last night started me thinking.” Chloe patted Tess’s arm. “You see? Some good might come from these last few weeks.” Tess pushed her hair out of her face and drew in a lungful of ocean-scented air. “You’re saying it’s better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all? It doesn’t feel better, Chlo.” Sympathy sparked in her best friend’s gaze. “You really love him.” Tess nodded. “And you honestly don’t know if you want to make partner?” “It’s not the right time to force that decision with everything undecided about my parents and…and after what happened with Zach.” Tess shrugged. “I’ll pass his file to someone else. I can’t imagine he’ll want me representing him now.” Chloe sifted sand through her fingers. “Tess, have you considered that this thing with your parents is partially responsible for your decisions lately?”

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“What do you mean?” “Well, we’ve talked before about why your parents got married, and now you have this new information about why the marriage hasn’t worked. Yet. Who knows, your parents might pull a rabbit out of the counseling hat and surprise you.” That would be nice—for them. And for Tess and her sisters. But Tess needed to fix her life before she could refocus on Mom and Dad. “They tried to make it work, Chlo. Yes, they got married because Mom was pregnant. And, yes, in the beginning, Dad didn’t love Mom the way she needed.” “He married her because he thought it was the right thing to do. Because it was expected.” Tess nodded. “Mom tried to make him happy. She tried to make our lives perfect.” In other words, not real. Growing up, Tess had experienced the burden of battling to achieve that surface gloss. In high school, she’d earned straight A’s and had captained every field-hockey team. Graduated at the top of her lawschool class. Strove to gain Lawrence Greenburg’s approval. “Yes, your mom tried, but it backfired. She tried so hard, she pushed your dad away, which left her feeling even more needy. And he spent over twentyfive years giving her every material possession she wanted—” “But whatever he gave her, whatever he felt, wasn’t enough.” “Did he change his approach? No, he kept doing what he thought she wanted.” “What was expected.” Tess chewed her bottom lip. For so long, she’d lived in fear of growing into a carbon copy of her mother, falling for a man who didn’t return that love, becoming clingy and manipulative as a result.

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Could it be that all along she’d followed her father’s pattern? Like Dad—like Zach—she’d spent years trying to satisfy someone else’s idea of what her life should be instead of examining what she wanted. What did she want? Zach? Her job at Greenburg? This was so confusing! “What are you saying, Chloe? That I’m as doomed as my parents?” “No. Decide what you want, Tess. Don’t get sidetracked thinking about what you should have. If you want Zach, tell him. Give him a chance to forgive you for deceiving him.” “Issuing another dare, Chlo?” “Nah, we’ve outgrown them. If you love Zach, you need to decide to tell him on your own.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Dad,” Zach said into the cordless. “I’ll sign whatever’s necessary to cut my ties to Halliday, and we can each move on with our plans.” He scribbled a reminder on his kitchen notepad. “Very good, son. I’m glad you’ve found some direction and that we’re working through this.” His father’s voice deepened. “Your mother would have been as proud of you as I am.” “No hard feelings?” “I’m working on it. Lord knows we both played a part in this situation. I’ll shoulder my share of the responsibility if you will.” “Damn straight.” Thankfully, one good thing had resulted from Ethan’s impromptu wrestling match six days ago—his brother had shut up about Tess but had refused to back

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down regarding their father. Finally, on Monday, Zach had contacted Dad. They weren’t out of the woods yet, but at least they were talking. Which was more than Zach could say for himself and Tess. “Olivia and I would like to take you, Ethan and Chloe to dinner Saturday night,” Dad said. “If two days’ notice will suffice. We have an announcement to make.” “You getting serious about her?” Maybe witnessing Ethan and Chloe exchanging goo-goo eyes had prompted their father to pop the question to Olivia. Zach wouldn’t mind. Olivia Trent was a wonderful woman, and his father deserved to be happy. A smile filled his father’s voice. “You’ll find out Saturday.” A pause. “Ethan says there’s a lovely woman in your life now, too. Ask her to join us. Olivia and I would love to meet her.” Good ol’ trickster Eth. “I’ll see what I can do.” Saying goodbye, Zach hung up. There’d been no sense revealing that he and his “lovely woman” were currently incommunicado. Tess had flipped his world into a tailspin when she’d confessed her knowledge of his father’s intentions— and then had topped off that stunner with her wonky tale about a bet with Chloe. Women had told him some outrageous things before, but learning he’d been the object of a sex dare was a definite first. Unfortunately, despite Ethan’s prodding, Zach hadn’t decided what to do about it. Shaking his head, he wandered into the living room and sat on the couch beside Lump. The cat sprawled into his usual take-me-I’m-yours position. “Hey, Lump.” Zach scratched the beast’s belly. “Are women trouble or what?”

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One yellow eye slit, feline suspicion gleaming. “Sorry, didn’t mean to disturb you.” The cat meowed and rolled over, paws pushing into the back cushion. A chew toy poked up between the seat and cushion. “What’s this?” Zach pulled out the tattered disc. “The Danver’s coaster,” he mumbled. With Tess’s fake phone number scribbled on the back. He rubbed the frayed edge. Having sex like a man? She was nuts. He stared at the scrawled numbers, her name inked in block letters: TESS S. His loser response from that night in the bar drifted to him: That Spanish? No wonder she’d thought him empty-headed. He scraped his shoe-clad feet on the floor. In a way, he should feel thankful that Tess had perceived him as a mindless stud. After all, if not for Chloe’s dare, would she have approached him? That night, then later at the Crockett’s meeting, she’d been wrapped tighter than a roll of Lifesavers. Without the bet to spur her on, she probably wouldn’t have indulged in their first hot phone sex—which had paved the way for every tender moment between them. Zach shifted on the couch. Shit, Ethan was right. Again. Zach was an asshole. He’d fallen in love with the woman and now he’d just let her walk away? Look at his life these last few years. Like his brother had accused, he always bided his time, waiting for the right moment. He took action, but in a roundabout way. Fuck, if he were Dad, he would have sprung Crockett’s on him, too. What did that tell him about Tess? Should he continue biding his time or drop the bullshit pride and tell her he loved her? Beside him on the couch, Lump purred. “Yeah, beast, it’s a no-brainer.”

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Zach shot up, grabbing his leather jacket as he headed for the door.

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Chapter Twenty-One

Tess licked West Coast Charlie’s Best! wild cherry ice cream off her spoon. Plunging the spoon in the carton, she returned the container to the coffee table and reviewed her mental checklist. One satin shortie bathrobe: on. Fuchsia pushup bra and matching thong panties: also on. Spiked sandals: nervously tapping hardwood. Heavy trench coat to cover her scantily dressed body until she sweet-talked her way into Zach’s apartment: hanging in the hall closet. What else? Two new, fluffy bath towels snuggled in the shopping bag resting on the armchair. Also, one bottle of jasmine-scented bubble bath. The ruined handset from her old telephone answering machine resided on the closet shelf. She didn’t specifically need to take the phone to Zach’s, but it provided a cute reminder of when he’d called and she’d dropped the cordless in the tub. He’d love finally learning why she’d bought a new phone. If he allowed her into his apartment. So she’d collect the handset, her toiletries and a change of clothes for tomorrow, in hopes he still wanted her and asked her to sleep over. If he didn’t want anything to do with her, she’d hustle her red-faced self home and gorge on the huge vat of ice cream. The whole thing. The point was, she was taking a huge risk, putting her heart and her potential humiliation on the line. She wanted to create an unforgettable impression, to show and tell Zach how much she loved him.

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If he rejected her, her heart would crack in two, but she couldn’t stand the not knowing. Tummy fluttering, she glanced at the wall clock. Chloe, where are you? Her friend had promised to drop by to offer her bolstering words of support—and to kick her butt over to Zach’s in the event she developed cold feet. If Chloe didn’t arrive by the time Tess finished assembling the win-Zachback goodies, she’d have to survive without her best friend’s send-off. Because she was going to Zach’s. She had to. Or for the rest of her life she’d wonder what might have developed between them. She pulled in a breath. “Well, Buddy, there’s no sense putting off the inevitable.” The budgie chirped in his cage. “I know, I know, I could be back in half an hour. Have a little faith, why don’t you?” Buddy trilled, and she sighed. “Sorry, I’m edgy.” Then get a move on. Right. Taking prim steps so she wouldn’t topple off the ridiculously high sandals, she teetered to the hall closet and retrieved the cordless. Rap! Rap! Chloe. Finally! Ruined phone in hand, Tess turned to the door. “Chlo?” No answer. Chloe had a building key, so wouldn’t have required a buzz-in. However, in this outfit, Tess wasn’t taking any chances. Some lunatic might have snuck in behind a neighbor.

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She sidled to the peephole. Zach! In jeans, a black T-shirt, and a distressed leather jacket. With his hands propped on his hips and his head bowed, she couldn’t glimpse his expression. As if he sensed her watching him, his head lifted. The distortion from the ancient peephole cloaked his features. “Tess?” The thick door muffled his deep voice. “I know you’re home. I saw Chloe in the parking lot. She gave me her key.” Tess’s pulse raced. Never in a million years would she have imagined Zach arriving just as she was leaving. Her plan had shattered—the pep talk she’d intended to give herself driving to his place, the element of surprise, the safety of the trench coat. She swallowed. She felt naked. And ridiculous. What if he laughed in her face? “What do you want?” she asked. “I need to see you.” The shortie housecoat skimmed her thighs. “I was coming to your place.” “I know. Chloe told me that, too.” Damn, damn, damn. “What else did she say?” “Not a thing, babe. But I’m here, and I want to come in. Please open the door.” Babe. He’d called her babe! “I’ll get my coat.” “We aren’t going anywhere. You don’t need one.” That’s what you think. She would complete her mission. However, she’d brave out the moment and face him dressed as she was. Blowing out a breath, she set the ruined phone on the kitchen counter. “Okay, I’m letting you in. Don’t laugh.”

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“Why would I laugh?” You’ll see. “Is anyone in the hall with you?” “No. Babe!” “Just a second.” Steadying her heart-attack breathing, she loosened the bathrobe sash. The lavender satin parted to rest on her lace-clad breasts. A shoulder-wriggle inched the slippery fabric down the outer slopes of her bra to cradle in the crooks of her arms. Her skin tingled as her lungs seized. Apart from the matching bra and panties, her entire body would be exposed to his view. Beneath her breasts, her vulnerable heart pounded. She loved him. Deeply. Truly. She’d make a fool of herself to prove it. If he laughed at her, she’d know they had no future. If he didn’t want her, she’d die. What the hell was taking so long? In the hall, Zach scrubbed a hand over his face. Now that he finally stood here, moments away from holding Tess, the emptiness of the last week clawed at him. He loved her. He wanted to tell her. If only she’d open the damn door! His wish was granted in the next second. The door cracked open, and a goddess materialized. A vision of yearning blue eyes and rosy-with-uncertainty, lightly freckled cheeks. Her hair floated over her shoulders, several wavy strands resting in her cleavage. A lacy bra the color of bright pink tulips enhanced her breasts. Her lips parted, the color in her cheeks deepening. His mouth hung open. “Wow.” “Hi.” She spoke the word softly, her voice a beseeching blend of nerves and longing. She gripped the door edge, one slender leg crooked in invitation.

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Desire pummeled him, joined by love and affection. Whatever he’d expected when she’d opened the door, it hadn’t been this. The light bulb in his mind blinked. She hadn’t dressed like a sex kitten to seduce him. Not solely. She’d opened herself to him, baring her heart as well as her beautiful body. The color in her face and the hesitant tone of her voice betrayed her. “Hi,” he said gruffly. “You were coming to my place dressed like that?” Her gaze lowered. She nodded. “I would have worn a trench coat.” He glanced down the building’s short hallway. He didn’t want anyone else to see her. “Get inside.” “Why? Is someone coming?” Yeah, me, in about two seconds. “No, but I don’t want to risk it.” Her fingers remained on the door edge. “Not until I know why you’re here, Zach.” Always the questioning lawyer. He loved that about her—her intelligence and determination. “Why were you coming to me now? Our timing’s always been good, babe.” She shook her head. “Not at first.” “True. Not when you were trying to fight us despite that I was supposedly the focus of a bet with Chloe. That tells me something.” He tapped the doorjamb. “You didn’t sleep with me because you thought I was a mindless stud. Hell, you gave me the wrong phone number on purpose.” Her teeth sank into her lower lip. Zach withdrew the tattered coaster from his jacket pocket and passed it to her. Her gaze widened.

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“Yeah, I still have it,” he said. “Lump stole it, which explains the fang marks. I found it a half hour ago. You want to know what prompted me to come to you now? The coaster did.” She shook her head. “Why?” “Because, the night we met, this was all you gave me. If not for Chloe, I never would have learned your real phone number. Pretty strange behavior for a woman intent on winning a bet. Which leads me to think you didn’t really want to do it.” “I acted on impulse. I thought I could weasel out of it later. Then you phoned me.” Their first incredible phone sex. The memory had forever emblazoned itself in his mind. However, he figured he couldn’t divulge that particular episode to their future grandchildren—Nan and Pop first kissed while Nan was taking a bath. Only Pop wasn’t in the bathroom with her. Where were you, Pop? Um, uh, never mind. He smiled. Yeah, he wanted to have children and grandchildren with this woman. He wanted to be with her always. He wanted her for his wife. He said, “Then we met at Greenburg. Other than a couple of fantastic fondlings, you fought our attraction with everything you had.” He glanced down the hall again. Still empty. He looked back at her. “Babe, I’m not against a little exhibitionism now and then, but not for this conversation. I’m either coming in or you’re wearing my coat.” He shrugged off his jacket and held it for her. “Turn around.” Blushing, she transferred the coaster from one hand to the other as she pushed her arms into the old jacket’s baggy sleeves. She flipped her hair out

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from the collar and faced him. The battered leather swallowed her, the waistband level with her miniskirt-sized satin robe. She looked incredibly sexy. His sweet biker-angel. She clasped his hand. “Come in.” Zach closed the door behind them. “Are we square on your bet with Chloe?” Tess placed the coaster on the kitchen counter. “Not completely. I did finally go for the bet, Zach, but only because I realized I was falling for you and I didn’t want to admit it.” “So, in the art-gallery closet, did you suggest the pro bono arrangement because you were falling for me or for the bet?” “I wanted you, so much. But I was also trying to deny what I felt for you. I thought if I concentrated on sex, I’d stop myself from falling in love.” He stepped toward her. “Did you succeed?” “No. Not by a long shot. I love you, Zach. I have for weeks.” His heart soared. “I love you, too. That’s what I came here to say.” She smiled. “You love me?” Nodding, he took her hand. “I’ve known for weeks, too. I wasn’t trying to deny it, though. I was worried I’d scare you off if I said something too early.” “You probably would have,” she admitted softly. He caressed her knuckles. “Tell me, sweetheart, if I love you and you love me, why aren’t we kissing?” “That’s easily rectified.” He tugged her into his arms, roaming his hands up her lingerie beneath the leather jacket. He pulled her close and their lips met, the kiss long and soulful. Sweetness, love and passion mingled with a need so intense it felt punishing. He wanted her—now, always—but they still had so much to settle.

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Breaking the kiss, he held her within a loose embrace. “I’m sorry for what happened in your office last week. I knew you were stressed because of your parents’ situation, and I should have cut you some slack. My only excuse is that I have no experience with serious family trouble. My mother died, and it was awful, but I always knew my parents loved each other. Whereas you…” He looked at the phone. “Have you heard from your mom lately?” Tears shone in Tess’s eyes. “She’s feeling better. Dad insisted they live apart while they attend counseling. She did something early in their marriage that contributed to their problems in a major way. It wasn’t just my father’s fault. He really is a good man.” Zach rubbed her back. “He has to be. He has you for a daughter.” She smiled. “If the counseling works, who knows, they might get back together. If they don’t, it won’t be for lack of honestly trying this time. I think they both realize that.” “I’m glad.” He wouldn’t push her to reveal more. A lifetime of sharing lay before them. “But I want you to understand that I realize I was equally at fault for our fight. Seeing my father fired me up to the point that I didn’t give you a chance.” “I’m sorry, too. I shouldn’t have told you about the bet when you’d just learned about Crockett’s. I couldn’t handle lying to you anymore.” “Shh.” He dropped a kiss to her mouth. “It’s okay. I’m glad you told me, because now we have no more secrets.” Her gaze flickered. “What about your father? Is he still angry?” “We’ll be okay. It took some talking, but he’s realized the best thing I can do for myself is leave Halliday.” She paused. “I have one secret left.” She pointed to the counter. “I didn’t talk to my mom on that phone. It’s dead.”

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“It needs a new battery?” “No, it’s been wrecked for weeks. I wanted to bring it to your place, so I took it out of the closet.” His lips twitched. “You keep a wrecked phone in your closet?” “Are you laughing at me, buster?” “Never. I’m laughing because I don’t understand what you’re talking about. But never, ever laughing at you.” “Good.” Her hands ran up and down his arms. “It’s a souvenir,” she murmured. “A wrecked phone?” “You kept the coaster from Danver’s, I kept the phone I dropped in the bathtub.” “You dropped your phone in the tub? You mean during—” “—our first phone sex.” Delight swept through him. Like an old married couple, they were already completing each other’s sentences. “Even back then, you realized something special existed between us. Why else would you have kept the phone?” “I guess I did know. At the time, I thought I kept it to remind myself how wonderful it felt to give in to my inner nympho.” Zach chuckled. He had a lot to learn about his Miss Strawberry Surprise. Good thing he’d have a lifetime to accomplish that pleasurable task. If she’d have him. “Now that you mention it, though, yeah, I think I knew even then,” she said. He kissed her. “As long as you know now.” She beamed. “I do.”

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He wanted to hear her speak those words in a church with their loved ones gathered to support them. However, he needed to clean up the shrapnel from last week’s argument first. Because, after he asked Tess to marry him, he wanted to make love with her for hours. “I spoke to L.G.” He released her from his embrace and clasped her hand again. “I wanted him to understand I don’t hold anyone at the firm responsible for the leak. It was my fault—and Dad’s, who agrees with me.” He steered them down the hall shielding one end of the kitchen from the living room. “Don’t worry, I didn’t tell L.G. about us.” Although he’d wanted to. He wanted to shout to the world that he loved Tess Sheridan. “I told Lawrence, Zach. I realized he’d find out, anyway, if tonight worked out between us. Sooner or later, I’d meet your father in something other than a professional capacity, considering he and Lawrence are good friends. It doesn’t matter if Lawrence knows about us now, anyway. I’m leaving Greenburg.” Zach froze where the hall opened into the living room. “L.G. fired you?” “I resigned. I’m there for a few more weeks while I clear off my files. Phil’s assuming most of my clients, except for Sydney and Teddy, who both want Virginia. Lawrence agreed that I could take the small business clients who want to go with me. Rob Tanaka and his parents are onboard. I’m opening my own practice.” Pride wreathed her face. “Fantastic! I always thought you’d be happier working for the little guy, babe, but this is a huge step. Your career means everything to you.” “You mean everything to me. I was concentrating on the wrong aspect of my career. Loving you has helped me see that.” A grin split his face. Wasn’t this how loving marriages worked, each partner cherishing, teaching and supporting the other?

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“When will you start taking clients?” he asked. “As it happens, I’m looking for a lawyer.” “If everything goes as planned, I’ll be my own boss by December.” “And when you hang out your shingle, babe, what name would you like to see there?” She flipped him a confused look. “Um, Teresa A. Sheridan? My name?” “I’m all for you keeping your name, Tess. You might want to consider a couple of alternatives, though.” He kissed her hand, and the jacket sleeve on her arm bumped his nose. “Teresa Sheridan, Teresa Halliday, or Teresa SheridanHalliday—all sound great to me, as long as you’re legally mine. I love you, babe. Will you marry me?” Her eyes rounded. “W-will I? Marry?” “Me. Marry me.” He slipped his hand into the pocket of the leather jacket she wore and extracted the ring his brother had foisted on him. “This was my mother’s engagement ring. It’s simple but beautiful. If you want it, it’s yours.” A soft light brightened her gaze. “Oh, Zach.” “Whoops. Last time you said ‘Oh, Zach’, all hell broke loose.” “There’s no chance of that this time. But are you sure? We’ve only known each other a few weeks.” “More certain than I’ve ever been about anything. Have I told you how long my parents knew one another before marrying?” She shook her head. “Ten days before the proposal. Fourteen until the wedding. And look how happy they were.” Smiling, she extended her hand. Zach slipped the ring onto her trembling finger. “A perfect fit. Like you are for me.” The last time they’d made love, he’d

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expressed a similar sentiment. However, now she didn’t deny it or attempt to distract him. “It’s stunning.” She admired the sparkling diamond. A carton on the coffee table caught his gaze. “What gives with the ice cream?” “I was building up my courage to come see you.” “That’s a lot of courage, sweetheart.” “It was part of the bet. Ten cartons for Chloe if she won, which she did. She insisted I keep one, because I was devastated about losing you.” “But you did sleep with me, babe, so how could Chloe win?” “The bet wasn’t only for me to sleep with you. It was for me not to fall in love with you.” Tess wiggled her ring finger. “Since I failed miserably on that score—” He hugged her. “Chloe won.” He pushed his hands beneath the jacket and settled them at her waist. “You two are crazy.” “I’m crazy for you.” Ah, babe. “You’re wearing my ring, but you haven’t said yes yet. Come be crazy with me. Say you’ll marry me, Tess.” She bounced on her spiked sandals. “Yes! Yesyesyes!” Desire heated him. “It’s been a while since I heard you say that.” In the throes of passion. “Want to hear me say it again now?” “In the living room, with Buddy watching?” She flicked a hand at the birdcage. “Buddy, turn around.” He chuckled. She kissed him. “What about the ice cream? Should we let it go to waste?”

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“Not on your life.” He pushed the jacket off her shoulders. It collapsed onto the floor. “Is the carton melting?” He removed her shortie housecoat and bra. His fingers grazed her nipples, and her breath caught. “It’s, um, pretty soft.” The exact opposite of his condition. “Perfect. I’ll dribble some between your breasts, all the way to…” He skated a finger from her collarbone to her navel. She rewarded him with a sensual shiver. “…right here.” “Then lick it off?” she asked. “I’ll dribble it all over your body.” “I also have chocolate sauce.” “Get it,” he whispered. She kicked off her sandals. Breasts bouncing, she scurried to the kitchen clad in nothing but her G-string. Zach shed his clothes faster than an excited groom. Tess returned with the chocolate sauce, several towels—and minus her skimpy panties. “Yum.” Taking the sauce bottle, Zach sat the liquid chocolate on the coffee table. They layered the couch with the towels plus two more from the bag on the armchair. As Buddy chirped and pranced in his cage, Tess reclined on the sofa, her curls dangling over the armrest. Cock a stiff mast, Zach wedged himself beside her naked hip and scooped ice cream onto the spoon. Candied cherries decorated the pink-and-white-swirled confection. “Want some?” he asked, lifting the spoon to her lips. Eyes closed, she drew on the ice cream. Zach scooped a second spoonful onto his tongue. Before Tess could swallow, he kissed her. The contrast of the

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cold dessert against the silky heat of her mouth shot arousal through him. Moaning, he sucked a cherry bit off her tongue. He dripped a half-spoonful of melting ice cream into her belly button, and she squeaked. “That’s cold!” The ice cream overflowed her navel. “Tsk-tsk. Patience.” Her tummy quivered. Carefully wielding the spoon, Zach dug cherry bits out of the carton and placed them in a circle around her belly button. Sexy goose bumps dotted her skin. Another spoonful of melting ice cream traipsed from her navel to between her tits. Backwards from how he’d promised, but every bit as tempting. He dug out more cherries and positioned them on her breasts. Her nipples pointed. Some cherries stayed put while others tumbled down between her arms and waist. “You’re quite an artist,” she murmured. “Shh. I’m working.” He continued strategically placing cherries and dribbling ice cream. Buddy chirped in the cage, and a dairy scent infused the air. Tess’s fingers and toes wiggled. “What do you call me? “Hmm?” “I’m your masterpiece. I must have a name.” “Let me think.” He leaned back. Cherries and ice cream swirls decorated her from her breasts to the tiny patch of red-gold curls between her legs. And lower, to her shaven folds. “I dub thee Wet and Wild.” She laughed. The cherries on her stomach wobbled. “That’s a title for a skin flick, not a work of art.” “I’m the artist, and I say it’s perfect.” He scooped several whole cherries out of the carton. One after the other, he sucked off the soft ice cream and sat the

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cherries on the towel between her slightly parted legs. He eased open her slick folds with his fingers. “Yup, wet.” He slid two fingers into her. “Enough to drive me wild.” She moaned. He withdrew his fingers. He selected a cherry from between her legs and pushed it into her hot opening. She gasped. “Are you sure that’s—” “Woman, what did I say about not disturbing an artist at work?” She clammed up. Cock raging with need, he thumbed more cherries into her and lined them up. Every time his fingers brushed her sensitive inner walls, moisture seeped from her. Lowering his head, he inhaled the arousing aroma of her musky juices bathing the candied cherries. He wanted to lick those cherries from her body so badly that his nuts squeezed and pre-come glistened on his cock. Tess wrapped a hand around his erection, whispering, “We’ll have to use a condom. I’m nearing the middle of my cycle, so I’m probably safe. But I’d rather not take a chance…until we’re ready.” To have children. He smiled. “I don’t mind.” She slid her hand up and down his stiff length. “I’ll talk to my doctor about other methods of birth control. Then we can—” “Make love bareback all the time. Oh yeah.” His cock throbbed in her palm, another drop of pre-come joining the first. He enjoyed the erotic torture for a moment. Then, moving her hand, he rose from the couch. “I’m not finished decorating you.” He reached for the chocolate bottle. “Can I heat this stuff?”

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Desire glazed her eyes. “In the microwave. Twenty seconds on medium, or it might get too hot.” “Gotcha.” He didn’t want to burn her. “Be right back.” Moments later, he returned with the warm bottle. As he grabbed a condom packet from his jeans on the floor, Tess squirmed on the towels. More cherries tumbled off her. “Getting antsy?” He perched by her hip again. “The ice cream’s sliding down my waist.” “Give me a few more seconds then I’ll eat you.” From head to toe. He uncapped the chocolate-sauce bottle and tested the warmth of the thick, brown liquid with his finger. “Tell me if this is too hot.” He squirted a dollop of sauce on her abdomen, right above the twelve-o’clock cherry topping her navel. “Ahhh.” Her nipples stiffened. “It feels incredible, Zach. I love it.” Her blue eyes shone. “I love you.” “I worship and adore you, babe. Your heart and soul and every goddamn gorgeous inch of you.” She caressed his arm. He squirted chocolate sauce on her breasts and folds. His balls ached. Enough was enough. He plunked the bottle on the coffee table, tore open the condom packet, and sheathed his erection. Tess’s tongue slipped out to moisten her lips. Leaning down, Zach kissed her. Starting from her collarbone, he licked every trail of ice cream and chocolate-sauce swirl, slurped and munched each cherry he encountered on his journey down her body. Her fingers twined in his hair. “Greedy guy. Where’s mine?” He smiled against her stomach. Slurping a cherry bit into his mouth, he brought it to her lips. Kissing her deeply, he transferred the cherry. While she savored the intense flavor, he sucked one nipple and tweaked the other. Her hips

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rolled on the couch, scattering more cherries. They were making a fucking fantastic mess. Zach scooped cherries from between her waist and arm. He shared some with her using his tongue and chewed the others. Gently pinching her nipples, he returned to lapping chocolate sauce and melted ice cream off her stomach and mound. She sighed, skin trembling beneath his touch. He licked chocolate sauce off her naked labia, and she moaned, hips moving up and down. Slurping his tongue between her folds, he licked them clean, until only the cherries inside her remained. “Lift your legs,” he whispered. Raising her legs at the knees, she parted them. One cherry rolled out onto the fluffy towel. Zach ate it up. Tess and cherries—a potent combination. Getting up, he stepped to the end of the couch and lowered himself facedown between her thighs. Holding her rear, he pressed his mouth to her opening and sucked out two cherries. She wriggled. “Zach, that turns me on so much.” Primo. As her fingers caressed his scalp and face, he slurped out two more cherries. Leaving the last one inside her, he kissed his way up and nibbled her swollen clit. Her hips moved in his hands. “Yes, yes.” He slid a finger inside her and tugged out the last cherry. He moved his lips off her clit long enough to pop the musky-flavored tidbit into his mouth. Balancing the cherry on his tongue, he nibbled her clit again. He rolled the cherry around the sensitive nub then sucked both clit and cherry deep into his mouth. “Zach!” Her hips rocked.

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Still sucking, he shoved three fingers into her and stroked high inside. The wider and deeper he stretched his fingers, the more she cried out. Her noises escalated into a passionate scream. Her juices slickened his fingers as she came. Once her spasms settled, he eased up the couch and slid his cock inside her. “There are no more cherries?” she asked. “I don’t want one getting stuck.” “I counted when I put them in. The same number came out.” He kissed her, sharing the cherry-tinged flavor of her essence mixed with the remnants of ice cream and chocolate coating his tongue. Sweeping his arms beneath her back and hugging her close, he pumped. He nestled his head in the crook of her shoulder and hung on. Their bodies moved in a rhythm that felt more right and real and incredibly amazing than anything he’d experienced in his life. Tess, his woman. Soon to be his wife. The mother of his children. His lover until he died. Without breaking their tempo, he kissed her again then cradled her face. Her eyes opened, her blue gaze stealing his heart. Suddenly, he wanted to share their joy with everyone they knew. With anyone they met on the street. Total strangers. “After cleaning up, let’s go to Stanley Park,” he said. “No more hiding indoors, babe. I want to show you off.” “We’ll walk the trails,” she whispered. “See the totem poles. Maybe the aquarium.” “We’ll do whatever you want. As long as we’re holding hands in public. Kissing, hugging, touching.” “Outdoor sex! I’ve never tried it.” Laughing, he thrust in and out. “You want to have sex in Stanley Park?”

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“When we’re walking the trails. We’ll find a private spot, dash off, do it right there in the middle of the trees.” She giggled. “I want to.” “Tess, you’ll never stop surprising me.” She reached down and massaged his sac. “I hope not.” Ahhh. “But in a popular place like Stanley Park?” “You’re my fiancé now. When it comes to satisfying my inner nympho, you have to do what I want.” “I think I’m going to like this inner nympho.” In the woods. His sexy wood nymph. “Good, because she loves you.” His heart swelled as his orgasm gathered steam. Her rapid breathing and movements alerted him that she quickly approached her second climax. “Public sex.” Slipping a hand between their bodies, he stroked her. “I’ll believe it when I’m inside you, babe. In the park.” “Think I won’t do it?” She sighed. “Zach, yes. Right there.” Pumping harder, he kissed her. “Babe, I believe you. In fact, I dare you.

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About the Author

Kate St. James lives in Canada with her adoring family. She keeps trying to kick them out, but they’re sticking like glue…for reasons she can’t figure. It’s not like she’s a model wife and mother. Or is she? Therein lies one of the great mysteries of Kate’s generation. An avid reader since childhood, Kate loves spending her days writing about the hot men and adventurous women populating her head. When she’s not engrossed in her fictional worlds, you can find her chasing her hound in the hills above an azure lake, ignoring the smoke alarms blaring from the kitchen, or endlessly renovating her house. Visit

Kate

on

the

www.facebook.com/katestjamesbooks, www.twitter.com/katestjames.

Web or

at follow

www.katestjames.com, her

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at

It takes two to toy with love.

SoloPlay

© 2011 Miranda Baker Come Again, Book 2 When librarian Alisa Mane’s boyfriend accuses her of being frigid, she sets out to prove him wrong the only way she knows how—with research. A visit to the local sex shop uncovers the sizzling sensuality locked beneath her cool façade, and she eagerly accepts the opportunity to test sex toys for SoloPlay Enterprises. Under the code name “Sologirl”, she begins exploring her body on her own terms. After all, no one was ever rejected by a vibrator. Mark Winters needs his new DoublePlay line of toys to hit big, and there’s only one tester for the job—Sologirl. She fires his imagination with playfully erotic reviews and never fails to pick a winner. There’s only one problem— Sologirl refuses to test the DoublePlay toys for couples. With his company’s success on the line, he decides to make his offer again, up close and in person. One look at the icy hot Mark and Alisa realizes he’s her best chance to discover if any man can satisfy her. A red-hot month of experimentation more than answers that question, but now Alisa has another problem—DoublePlay is almost ready for production and her feelings for Mark have nothing to do with business. Is she brave enough to continue playing…with her heart? Warning: This book contains a sexy librarian, an icy hot businessman, scandalous emails,

scorching

male/female

and

well…everything. Enjoy the following excerpt for SoloPlay:

female/female

play

time,

and

vibrating,

Alisa toyed with her mouse, watching the cursor dart across her screen, unable to concentrate on the actual data. Ever since Mark Winters’ DoublePlay email had arrived, she couldn’t stop thinking about sex with a partner. But which kind? On the one hand, her fantasies were always about men. On the other hand, no man had ever managed to give her an orgasm, so maybe she should stick with women. Crystal had been able to make her come. Of course, she was also psychic, totally tuned in to what Alisa was feeling at every moment. With her, she had never had to say a word. Crystal had insisted on drawing the words out of her, but there had been no real risk. That was really the crux of the problem, wasn’t it? Sex with a partner required communication, and Alisa didn’t like to volunteer information. Still, unless she wanted to spend the rest of her life communing with silicone, plastic, metal and rubber, she should probably try dating again. She giggled as the image of entertaining her visiting parents at a fancy restaurant while she held hands with a vibrating dildo popped into her head. She had been dodging her mother’s calls, but inevitably, they would have to set a date. “Hey, Beth?” Alisa swiveled to face her desk mate’s chair. “Do you know any nice guys?” Beth muttered something incomprehensible. She appeared to be on the search for an elusive title, and unless someone dropped a bomb on her keyboard, she wouldn’t give up the hunt any time soon. Alisa kicked her chair. “I need a date.” No response. She sighed. The first set of automatic doors swung open in the foyer and Alisa glanced up at the security gate to see who was coming in. Sunlight bounced off the second set of glass doors into her eyes, momentarily blinding her. When the

spots cleared, she saw a man. And not one of the old guys who liked to read the free newspapers in the armchairs by the windows, either. This was a tall, blond iceberg of a man wearing a dark suit with a white shirt. His tie was pulled away from his neck, as if he had loosened the knot as soon as he’d pushed away from his desk. His hard features looked carved from cold stone. Alisa shuddered, her breath rushing out of her body. His pale blue eyes zeroed in on the reference desk, and Beth finally glanced up from her screen. “Check him out,” she said under her breath. “Hot date, twelve o’clock.” “I thought you weren’t paying attention,” Alisa accused. “Well, I am now.” Alisa felt frozen to her wooden chair as the man’s eyes dropped to her nameplate. He began to walk toward them with measured strides. “May I help you?” Beth asked, flipping her shiny red hair over her shoulders and giving him a smile that showcased every one of her perfect, white teeth. “I’m looking for Ms. Mane.” His slight smile barely thawed his features. Alisa eyed him cautiously. “How can I help you?” “I hope you can help me find Sologirl.” Her eyes widened, then shot over to Beth. “I’ve never heard of Sologirl,” Beth chirped. “Is it fiction or nonfiction?” “I’ve got this one.” Alisa jumped up from her chair and raced around the desk, ignoring Beth’s surprised look. She took the stranger’s arm and pulled him firmly toward the stacks. “I think I’ve seen it in the graphic novels.” When they reached the cover of the tall shelves, Alisa dropped his arm. “Who are you?” “Mark Winters,” he said, holding out his hand. “SoloPlay Enterprises.” “Holy shit,” she whispered.

His laugh was loud in the quiet room, but not as loud as her thudding heart. Alisa shushed him. “Nobody knows about SoloPlay here, and I want to keep it that way.” Her whisper was sharp. “You shouldn’t have come here.” “Well, you shouldn’t have said no,” he replied, taking her hand.

Mark watched the creep of red on her pale skin. His blood was rising in his veins

too.

Crystal’s

cryptic

comments

and

Sologirl’s

sexy

e-mails

notwithstanding, he hadn’t expected Sologirl to be so hot. Alisa Mane looked like a delicate china doll, all pink and white and blue-eyed, her long, dark lashes blinking furiously against her rosy cheeks as she tugged her warm hand out of his grasp. “Is it a question of money?” he asked. “No! Don’t talk about that here! This is a library—” He watched her lips move as she searched for the right words and imagined them parted, showing even, white teeth as she pleasured herself with a SoloPlay toy. “That’s such a stereotype.” Mark ignored her fierce glare. “I’ve definitely seen a few movies where the staid librarian whips off her glasses, takes down her hair—” “Shut up!” “What’s the matter, Sologirl, can’t take the heat?” he challenged. Mark knew what kind of a woman was hiding out under the hands-off librarian outfit. The low heels, modest neckline and the skirt cut precisely at the knee did not fool him. Alisa whirled and beckoned him deeper into the stacks. As she turned, he saw a quick flash of bare flesh above her knee and maybe the hint of a garter. Nope, not perfectly prim and proper at all. He thought of the

money he would have to shell out to multiple DoublePlay testers until his body finally cooperated and he could follow her without embarrassing himself. When they reached the back wall of the library, Sologirl stopped and whirled to face him. “You aren’t supposed to know who I am! What about SoloPlay’s privacy policy? Identity protection? How dare you come here! If anyone overhears us—” she hissed. “What are you afraid of?” he asked. “No one will guess what we’re talking about.” “I’m afraid one of my very perceptive colleagues will figure it out! Librarians are information specialists, and the library world is not exactly a hotbed of liberal sexual politics, either. One keyword search on the Internet and I can kiss my job goodbye. If I hear you say the words,” she lowered her voice, “Sologirl or SoloPlay again, this conversation is over.” “Fine. Can I say DoublePlay?” “No.” “That makes my pitch a little difficult.” “You chose to come here, buddy.” She crossed her arms. “It was the only address I had.” Sologirl’s gaze pinned him to the stacks. “How did you get it?” He hesitated. “Crystal said to tell you she sent me.” He watched emotions play across her features. Shock. Then anger. The idea that if Crystal knew what sort of lube Sologirl preferred then they might have been lovers raced through his mind. Just as swiftly, he rejected it and repressed the stab of accompanying jealousy. Mark would stake his life, his health and the success of the DoublePlay line on the fact that Sologirl liked men. “You liked BodyVibe,” he began.

Alisa’s blue eyes flashed, darkened. He continued before he could determine if her reaction was due to remembered pleasure or his temerity at bringing it up. He kept his voice just below a library whisper, not quite loud enough for her to easily hear. She edged closer, and he caught a whiff of flowery shampoo and the scent of sunshine and clean grass rising from her skin. He inhaled another deep breath of her sweet scent before he continued. “I also know you tested it here, in the library. In fact, your report opened up a whole new approach to the marketing department. They think it belongs in the…new product line. Since you’re already comfortable with BodyVibe, why don’t you try it out over dinner with your partner? Give up the remote control, let someone else take charge this time.” Sologirl’s eyebrows lifted. Her mouth opened the slightest bit and the tip of her tongue darted out to moisten her full, pink lips. Mark pressed his advantage. “Do you know how erotic it is to give someone else complete control over your pleasure?”

One spark could burn her world down.

Keeping Pace

© 2011 Dee Carney Six years after her husband’s death, Regina Pace is still just going through the motions, her only pleasure a nightly glass (or three) of wine to dull the ache. Tonight is no exception—until a sensual outdoor encounter with her neighbor’s son, freshly home from college. He’s older, wiser, more devastatingly handsome than she remembered. He’s also fifteen years her junior. Despite her misgivings, it isn’t long before her nightly ritual includes a long, deep drink of Josh Smith. Ogling leads to touching, then the sparks flare into an erotic encounter that feels wickedly right—and deliciously forbidden. Yet the intense heat can’t burn away the doubt pestering the back of her mind. That the gap between their ages is too large, even for the most determined leap of faith… Warning: Features a boy-next-door who won’t take no for an answer, more than one sexual fantasy (including some outdoor self-loving!), and a burning romance that proves age is just a number. Enjoy the following excerpt for Keeping Pace: Josh took the corkscrew from me gently. “There is definitely an art in handling this task.” Fascinated, I watched him slice the foil around the cork and then dig the metal screw into the spongy plug. After a few quick twists, he pulled upward with ease, dislodging the cork. The amazement must have shown on my face. Wine sommeliers and connoisseurs tended to be the only people I knew of who moved with such deft confidence. “I waited tables as an undergrad,” he said with a wink. “If a table

ordered wine, they tended to tip bigger. I learned how to pour a bottle properly in a hurry.” “I take it you’re no longer in school?” His confirmation would help me feel a little better. Despite the casual atmosphere we’d generated between us, his youth still taunted me. “Grad school. Almost done.” “That’s amazing.” And I meant it. My education didn’t go further than undergraduate schooling, despite my constantly telling myself I should return for a higher degree. “Oh. I’m sorry… I should have asked…” His sudden change of topic and subsequent confusion baffled me until I followed his line of sight. In my excitement, I’d forgotten the glass of wine sitting next to the telephone. Not far beyond it, the open bottle of wine I’d set there earlier told a story of its own. Now there were two bottles open. “Don’t worry. Good wine never goes to waste.” “It looks like you were going to order dinner too, though.” Joshua looked chagrined. “I can’t seem to do any of this right.” “Any of what?” “It’s just me over there, and I was kind of wondering if maybe you’d care for some company.” He dropped his gaze, something on the parquet flooring suddenly needing his immediate scrutiny. “I mean, if you weren’t busy.” My pulse began to race. I tried to put him at ease because I was touched by his boyish charm. “I’d love to, and since you brought the wine, dinner is on me. Take your pick from the menu, and we’ll place an order.” Conversation flowed easily as we waited, which seemed odd to me. I thought there would be lots of stops and starts, all awkward.

By the time the food came, the bottle Joshua brought was empty. I can’t say who had most of it, but I couldn’t recall my glass ever being empty. Making my way to the door to pay the deliveryman took a slight bit of concentration on my part. I didn’t want to appear buzzed in front of Joshua, despite the very same being true. His gaze rarely left me, to the point I felt its heated caress as I walked away from him. He made himself at home, opening the containers and sorting through my kitchen drawers after I placed the bags on the table. My mouth watered as we were assaulted by the scents of meat swimming in rich sauces and smoky chargrilled vegetables. “So wait, you did all the work and they gave your project to someone else? What a slap in the face,” he said, continuing the conversation we’d had before we’d been interrupted by the doorbell. “Exactly!” I don’t recall when I’d started telling him about Beth. Maybe sometime around when he’d asked what I did for a living. Tongue loosened with alcohol, I’d easily dished every bit of the office rivalry with him. I don’t know if I would have been so bold under other circumstances, but his attention made talking to him about it too easy. “So what are you going to do about it?” He dished out the food onto plates, and settled into his chair. I bit into an asparagus spear. “That’s the problem, I don’t really know. The PC thing to do would be congratulate her and take a back seat.” We ate in silence for a few minutes, taking sips of wine between bites. Finally he said, “But you’ve worked hard on a project you’re passionate about.” “And that’s why I’m tempted to assist.” I gave an exaggerated shudder as I said the last word.

Joshua laughed, then turned serious. “It wouldn’t make you less of a person to help the project succeed. It’s about the kids. Not about what’s going on between you and Beth.” Of course he was right, but to hear him say it made something inside me melt. At once he didn’t seem as young as I’d thought only yesterday, but on par with any of my peers. Sure, some wrinkles around the eyes or a few strands of gray hair would have helped, but my uneasiness seemed to have vanished. “You think and act very much like an old soul. Has anyone ever told you that?” “Is that a bad thing?” “Not at all,” I murmured. My lids were heavy from our libation, and I chalked up Joshua’s even more vibrant appeal to having consumed more wine than I should have. I saw from the corner of my eye three empty bottles, which tattled on just how heavily we’d been drinking tonight. All of it caught up to me, and my head swam with luxuriant intensity. Unfortunately, that was also my signal. Once I started feeling this way, my inhabitations would soon fall by the wayside. With both our plates cleared of food and the wineglasses truly empty, I pulled the uneaten containers closer. “It’s getting late, Joshua—” “Josh. Please.” “Josh.” I smiled. It felt lopsided. “I need to put these things away and get ready to face Beth in the morning.” “Sure, I understand.” He put his knife and fork on the plate next to him. “But I hope we can do this again. You’re great company.” “I’d like that.” And I meant it. It dawned on me that we’d spent most of the night talking about me, and I knew very little about him still. I rose on unsteady legs, unprepared for when they refused to support me. Josh jumped to his feet, obviously in a much better state than I, and wrapped his

arm around my waist. Without his support, I would have hit the floor hard. “Whoa. Steady there.” My breasts pressed against his chest, our faces only inches apart. I smelled the remnants of the gourmet delivery surrounded by subtle hints of alcohol. Desire swelled within me, and I weakly fought it into submission, though it would not die without a struggle. I saw a hint of lust reflecting in his eyes and prayed I didn’t imagine it. Josh’s gaze dropped to my lips before travelling to meet my eyes again. No. Not imagined at all. “You’re so young,” I said softly. “Twenty-six. Not that young.” Fifteen years my junior. A full generation between us. The realization didn’t stop me from wanting him to lower his face to mine and devour my mouth in a kiss. He brought his mouth to mine, brushing it with the gentlest caress that sent a shiver rippling through me instead. I ached for more and released a soft whimper of protest when he didn’t give in to my wants. Intense green eyes searched mine before he said, “Not like this, Regina.” The use of my first name brought the reality of this evening crashing into me. He didn’t understand. This was exactly how I needed it. How I wanted it. With this lonely life, I’d earned the right to throw responsibility out the window and let my id run rampant. I’d promised Patrick I would live. And I wanted to do so now. I threaded my fingers into Josh’s short brown hair and brought his lips to mine. I opened my mouth against his, the urgency of connecting to him on a physical level driving me until I knew nothing else. It crossed my mind only

seconds after our tongues connected that he might reject me. When he breathed into me, tasted me, that thought shattered. Finding his unoccupied hand, I brought it to my breast, offering more than just a kiss to him. “You’re tempting,” Josh muttered after breaking away. “So very tempting…but you’ve also been drinking.” I licked his bottom lip. “I’m fully aware of what I’m doing.” “I need you to be able to say that in the morning.” He kissed me again. “I won’t be satisfied with just one night.” Guiding his hand beneath my shirt, I let him touch my bare skin. “But what an amazing one night it could be.”