"No catch."
His eyes narrowed. "There's always a catch."
Annoyance prickled her. "Sheesh. You sure are suspicious. Look, if you don't want to use it, fine. You can sit here until the spring thaw, or hitch your car up to a team of mush dogs and try to get to a computer store. Makes no difference to me."
"Why would you let me use it?"
She planted her palms on the desk and leaned forward until less than a foot separated their faces. His gaze dropped briefly to her lips, and she noted the unmistakable desire darkening his eyes. She ignored the quickening of her pulse in response.
"Why? You know what, Matt? I'm not sure, especially since I don't particularly like you. Maybe it's because if the situation were reversed, I'm not certain you'd show me the same courtesy and I want you to feel guilty about that. Maybe it's because I've been in a similar situation and someone was kind enough to help me out and I just want to pay it forward. Maybe it's because I want to prove to you that I mean it when I say I play fair. Or maybe it's because when I win the ARC account, I don't want to hear any whining from you that I only got it because you couldn't play your 'A' game due to technical difficulties."
She remained leaning on the desk, heart beating hard against her ribs as they studied each other, tension and awareness bouncing between them. He clearly felt that tension and awareness, too. She could see it in his eyes.
Finally he said, "Aren't you afraid I'll look through your files?"
"They're password protected."
"Now who's being suspicious?"
"I prefer to call it cautious. Besides, you have the corner marketed on suspicion. Are you suspicious of everyone, or am I the only proud recipient of your doubtfulness?"
"Don't take it personally. It's not just you. And I have my reasons."
Something flickered in his eyes, the shadows of past hurts, piquing her curiosity, but she didn't ask. "Well, that's good to know. I think." Straightening, she headed toward the closet where she pulled out her black goose-down winter coat. When she turned around, she found him standing directly in front of her. Clutching her coat to her chest as if to ward off the sensual vibes he threw off, she backed up a step. Her shoulders hit the wall.
"Where are you going?" he asked in a husky voice that brought to mind candlelight and satin sheets.
"Outside."
"It's cold and snowing."
"I like the cold and snow." Yup, something icy would be really welcome right about now.
He reached out and plucked her coat from her fingers, then held it out by the shoulders for her, a gentlemanly gesture she'd thought died with the dinosaur. Turning her back toward him, she slowly slipped her arms into the sleeves, trying without success to ignore his disturbing nearness. After he settled the coat on her shoulders, she turned to face him once again. She was about to thank him, but the intense look in his eyes obliterated every thought from her head. She remained silent, stuck in place like an insect trapped in a web.
A good ten seconds of silence passed. Then he reached out and trailed a single fingertip down her cheek. Her breath caught at the feathery touch, and a trail of heat ignited on her skin where he'd touched her.
"You've surprised me, Jilly," he said softly, his gaze searching her face. "And I don't particularly like surprises."
She blinked and swallowed. "Gee, thanks."
He shook his head and frowned. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean that the way it sounded. What I meant is that the unexpected unsettles me. And you… well, you're not what I… expected." His hand lowered to his side, then he stepped back, and she released a breath she hadn't even realized she held.
"Thank you, Jilly," he said, still studying her face, as if trying to solve a great puzzle. "I really appreciate you loaning me your laptop. Believe me, I am well aware that not everyone would be so generous."
"You're welcome. See you later." With a quick smile, she left the room, walking swiftly toward the elevator, anxious to put as much space between her and Matt as possible. And even more anxious to get outside where it was cold, because she was feeling an uncomfortable warmth-warmth that had nothing to do with the resort's heating system and everything to do with her roommate. Yes, the farther away she stayed from Matt, the better off she'd be. But what on earth was she going to do tonight when they would once again have to share a bed?
Matt watched the door close behind Jilly. When it clicked shut, he tipped back his head, closed his eyes, and groaned.
This was so not good. Damn it, from the moment he'd walked into this room last night, his world had gotten turned upside down. And every time he managed to set it back on his axis, she did something else to throw him all off-kilter again. Like wear black satin lingerie to bed. And leave her long hair down. And accentuate her gorgeous lips with kiss-me red. And loan him her laptop.
Would he have done the same for her if the situations had been reversed? As much as he'd like to tell to himself that he'd have chosen the highroad, in his heart he knew he wouldn't have. While he wouldn't do anything to directly sabotage Jilly, he definitely would have taken advantage of her misfortune-a realization that left a bad taste in his mouth. Especially when it hit him that only a year ago, before he'd been stabbed in the back by Tricia and his former best friend, he most likely would have acted as Jilly had. Probably. At least he liked to think so.
But Jilly had made that generous gesture with little or no hesitation-despite the fact that she "didn't particularly like him."
Humph. "Well, I don't particularly like you, either," he muttered. He certainly didn't like that she had him tied up in all these damn knots. And he definitely didn't like that her generous gesture was making him examine his own behavior and realize it was coming up short. And he really didn't like the disturbing suspicion that maybe he didn't dislike her at all.
He blew out a long, frustrated breath. Just as she'd suspected, he had come back to the room to see if she was here, to see if she was the reason Jack had rescheduled their meeting. And when he'd found her in the room, he was far more relieved than he cared to admit. The thought of her seducing Jack Witherspoon bothered him a hell of a lot more than it should have-on a gut-wrenching, personal level it shouldn't have.
He was feeling things for Jilly that he wanted no part of. Heat. Desire. Admiration. Things he'd vowed never to allow himself to feel again for a co-worker. He knew where that led. Never again. He needed to remember his vow: No more fishing off the company pier. He needed to concentrate on Jack Witherspoon and ARC. And he needed to forget all about Jilly Taylor.
Then his gaze fell to the bed… the bed they'd be sharing in only a matter of hours. Damn. That was going to make it very difficult indeed to forget about Jilly Taylor.
Shortly after one o'clock that afternoon, Jilly walked up the long, curved driveway leading to Chateau Fontaine. She'd spent a few head-clearing hours walking a half mile up the road to the quaint town, strolling through the cozy shops, then enjoying lunch and a cappuccino at a café. The snow had stopped, and the cold, still air had done wonders to clear the Matt Davidson-induced cobwebs from her brain and shift her priorities back into some semblance of order.
Cool, aloof, and professional would be her watch words for the remainder of the weekend. Clearly her hormones were suffering from some sort of glandular imbalance brought on by nine months, three weeks and nineteen days of neglect, which explained this ridiculous, unwanted physical attraction to Matt. Well, next week that would change. She'd call an emergency summit meeting with Kate and together they'd set about finding her an acceptable man-or two-to date. Once her social life started humming again, she'd forget all about Matt.