"Not necessarily. Maybe if you indulge in an affair with him this weekend, your curiosity will be satisfied, and then you'll be able to forget him. No more wondering, it'll be over and done with. As long as you both go into it understanding the ground rules."
"You mean like we'll satisfy our lust this weekend only, then never speak of this 'at the winery' incident again?"
"Exactly. Listen, Jilly. You really need a man to take care of you in the sack. Now. Before you dry up and blow away. And as far as I know, no one's kindled the least bit of interest in you in a long time. If Matt lights your fire, then maybe you should give him the matches-at least for this weekend."
"Okay, you're not really helping here. I called you to talk me out of this craziness."
"Oh. Sorry. How's this? You don't want to do something that could in any way mess with your career or make an already awkward situation worse. Matt is definitely Mr. Hands Off."
"Exactly." There. She knew talking with Kate would get her head back on straight.
"But there's no denying that you need a man."
"Much as I hate to agree with you, you're right. I won't be back at work until Tuesday. But as soon as I hit Manhattan, I'm looking for a man to put out this damn fire that Matt started."
"Atta girl. Between the two of us, we'll find you someone. I'll enlist Ben's help as well."
"Too bad Ben doesn't have a brother."
"He does. But he's a priest."
"Right. Too bad Ben doesn't have a brother who isn't a priest." Jilly sighed. "Still, even if we find me a man, there's this slight confidence problem."
"Meaning?"
Jilly dragged her free hand through her hair. "I'm… nervous. I haven't had sex in so long, you could nickname me Rusty."
Kate laughed. "Don't worry. It's as natural as breathing."
"Sure, says a woman who has fabulous sex on a regular basis."
"And soon you will be, too."
"I can only hope you're-" She turned around and her words cut off as if they'd been sliced with a machete.
Matt, looking tall, dark and delicious in a pair of charcoal-gray dress pants and a cream, crewneck sweater, leaned against the closed door, an unreadable expression on his face.
Mortification consumed her in one gulp, rushing a flush of heat up her back. "I… I've got to go," she said into the phone, her voice coming out in a croak.
"Uh-oh. Did he come in?"
"Yeah." The question was, when had he entered the room? Ack! How much had he overheard?
"Okay. Chin up. Take deep cleansing breaths, and if all else fails, take a cold shower. Call me tomorrow, all right?"
"You bet." Her gaze steady on Matt's, she slowly hung up the receiver. "I didn't hear you come in."
"Sorry. I didn't mean to startle you."
"How long were you standing there?"
"Not long."
Her eyes narrowed. "What did you hear?"
"Nothing."
His blank expression gave nothing away. She prayed he was telling the truth. Otherwise she'd have to move to another state. Possibly another country. "Aren't you supposed to be with Jack now in the bar?"
"We'd just ordered drinks when I realized I forgot my cell phone. I'm expecting an important call." Pushing off from the door, he walked to the night table and picked up his small phone.
Her brows shot upward. Personally she would have let her voice mail pick up the call rather than interrupt time with a client as valuable as Jack, and it surprised her-and pricked her curiosity-that Matt wouldn't do the same. Who was he expecting such an important call from?
"Jack suggested that the three of us have dinner together this evening," Matt said.
"Oh? When did he say that?"
"About five minutes ago, in the bar. He told me to extend the invite to you if you were in the room."
Another embarrassed flush snaked up her back. "So he knows we're sharing a room?"
"Well, it doesn't take a genius to figure out that if we're both in room 312-and the chances of there being more than one room 312 are pretty slim-we're roommates. I explained about the reservation mix-up. He thought it was pretty funny."
"Yeah. It's hysterical." She shot him a narrow-eyed look. "What if I hadn't been in the room?"
"Jack would have called and left a message."
"Where and when is dinner?"
"Six-thirty, in the resort's restaurant."
"I'll be there," she said, refusing to acknowledge the sudden leap her heart performed-a leap that had nothing to do with the prospect of dining with Jack Witherspoon. "At least we won't have to dodge each other all evening."
"Right. Listen, as long as you're here, I want to pay my debt of honor." He crossed to the desk and opened his laptop. "I owe you a look at my presentation."
Her surprise must have shown because he smiled. "Obviously you thought I'd conveniently forget but, if nothing else, I'm a man of my word. Take a look."
Jilly joined him and peered over his shoulder, watching the clever five-minute PowerPoint slide show which highlighted Matt's slogan. "ARC Software," he said softly as the words appeared on the screen. "Load it, Launch it, Love it."
Heat suffused her. Whew. The way he murmured his slogan in that husky, suggestive voice made Load it, Launch it, Love it sound like something she'd want to experience with him in the dark. While they were naked.
And there was nothing wrong with that. Everyone knew sex sold. Damn. She wished she'd hated his presentation, wished it were awful. Wished she could lie and tell him that. Instead she said, "Very nice. I'm impressed."
"Thank you. I'm glad we're even now."
"Not exactly even. You still owe me for the snowball fight."
"I was hoping you'd forget."
"Not a chance. In fact, maybe I'll ask for another snowball fight."
"I hope not. I'm apparently not very good at them."
She smiled. "I know. That's why I like to play with you."
He laughed. "Well, I anxiously await to hear what you desire so I can pay my debt." Shooting her a snappy salute, he headed toward the door. "I'll see you at six-thirty." With that, he left the room, leaving Jilly to stare at the door through which he'd just departed.
What I desire? Good grief. She pushed her mental rewind button and cringed at what she'd said to Kate. The thought of Matt knowing that he had her all hot and bothered and that she'd been thinking about having sex with him-yikes.
Thank God he hadn't overheard any of that.
Chapter 6
Sitting at a cozy table tucked in a quiet corner of be Cabernet Bistro, Matt observed Jilly enter the room and stop to speak to the maître d'. With a nod, the tuxedo-clad gentleman led the way toward the table.
Matt watched her head his way, and everything male in him snapped to attention. Her dark hair was pulled back in her familiar, professional chignon. A plain black, long sleeved, turtleneck dress hugged her body from her chin to just above her knees. Sheer black stockings, ending with strappy, black heels made her shapely legs appear endless. As far as he could tell, her jewelry consisted only of the small diamond studs twinkling on her ear-lobes. She looked understated, classy, and sexy as hell.
He drew a long, careful breath. How did she manage to look so cool yet so freakin' hot at the same time? And in a damn dress that showed absolutely no skin? But it was the way it showed no skin that had him shifting in his seat to relieve the discomfort in his groin. The dress clung to her just enough to offer a hint of her feminine curves. The sort of hint that made a man want to go exploring. The simplicity of the monochromatic style, her understated chignon, lent her a sophistication that left him aching to run his hands all over her and mess up all that cool perfection with some of the sexual heat scorching him.
Thanking the maitre d' who held out the chair opposite Matt, she gracefully sat.