A SURE THING?

by Jacquie D'Allesandro

  The instant he voiced the question, Matt wished he could snatch back the words. He shouldn't have asked, shouldn't have verbalized the nagging question that had plagued him all day—a certainty reinforced by the wary, guarded look that filled Jilly's eyes and the deafening silence. Man, it was a good thing he'd booked himself that massage because he really did need an hour away from this woman and the potent spell she cast on him.

  "We're going to do exactly what we agreed," she finally said. "We're going to enjoy each other the rest of this weekend, then … not enjoy each other anymore. Business as usual."

  "You're right, of course." Unfortunately his suspicion that it was going to be impossible for him to hold up his end of their bargain gained momentum with every minute he spent in her company. Especially since it was becoming increasingly obvious that he wouldn't be able to neatly file her away under "Ice Princess" and "enemy number one" any longer.

  Forcing what he hoped passed for a carefree grin, he said, "And seeing as how our weekend will be over by this time tomorrow, I vote we head back to the resort and enjoy each other as much as we can for the time we have left." He waggled his brows. "Think we can make it through the entire box of condoms I bought?"

  Her expression relaxed and she smiled. "There's only one way to find out. But thirty-six condoms in twenty-four hours?" She shook her head. "I think there'll be a few left over."

  "I'm willing to go for the record if you are. Whaddaya say?"

  "I say let's finish shopping and get out of here."

  Matt selected two platters, both hand painted with grapes, as Christmas gifts for his mom and sister, while Jilly picked out several serving bowls for presents, and two oversize latte cups for herself.

  "Latte goes very well with chocolate-covered marshmallows," she said with a teasing grin.

  They each picked out several bottles of wine, then brought their purchases to the register where Joe wrapped them in colorful holiday paper while he amused them with stories of growing up in Italy.

  While their receipts printed, Joe nodded toward a large glass bowl near the cash register, half-filled with business cards. "We pick a winner once a month for a free bottle of wine. If you'd like to enter, just put your business card in there."

  Both Matt and Jilly dug out business cards and passed them to Joe who looked at them with interest. "Maxximum Advertising Agency," he read. "You work together?"

  An uncomfortable flush crept up Matt's neck at the unwelcome reminder. "Yes."

  Nodding solemnly, Joe dropped the cards into the bowl. "My wife, she works here at the winery. This can sometimes be difficult." He shot them a broad wink. "But sometimes also rewarding." He handed them their packages with a flourish. "Best of luck to you, Matthew and Jillian. I hope you will return to Galini Vineyards. Perhaps in the summer, when the vines are green and lush with ripening fruit. I will give you a personally guided tour."

  "That sounds lovely, Joe," Jilly said with a smile. "Thank you."

  Matt's stomach tightened. If Jilly meant to take Joe up on his offer, she'd obviously be doing so accompanied by someone who—

  Isn't me.

  Shoving that disturbing, irritating thought aside, Matt shook Joe's hand, then he and Jilly headed toward the exit. When Matt opened the door, the bells tingled, and they looked up. Once again they stood directly under the mistletoe. Jilly smiled and lifted her face, clearly expecting a quick peck. But need and desire slammed into Matt. Hauling her against him with his free arm, he angled his back to afford them a modicum of privacy, then slanted his mouth over hers in a hot, hard, demanding kiss. When he lifted his head, masculine satisfaction roared through him at Jilly's dazed expression.

  "Wow," she breathed. "That's some damn good mistletoe."

  Matt looked over his shoulder at Joe, who grinned and shot him a thumbs-up. "Mistletoe works every time," Joe said with a laugh.

  With a final wave, they walked to the car. After Matt closed the trunk, he asked, "I'm ready to hit the room, get naked, and start working on that thirty-six pack. Whaddaya say?"

  "I say it's good to set high goals in life."

  * * *

  Chapter 9

  « ^ »

  Relaxed, rejuvenated, and all but purring from her deluxe facial, Jilly walked toward the resort's bar where she and Matt had agreed to meet for an after-spa drink before returning to the room to ready themselves for dinner with Jack.

  She sat in an overstuffed chair at a small, round table that afforded her a good view of the lobby area so she wouldn't miss Matt. She checked her watch. Good. She had at least ten or fifteen minutes before Matt showed up. After slipping her cell phone from her purse, she quickly dialed Kate's number. Her friend picked up on the second ring.

  "I've been dying to hear from you," Kate said. "How's it going?"

  Jilly blew out a breath. "Remember how you suggested that maybe I should indulge in an affair with Matt this weekend? That it would satisfy my curiosity so then I'd be able to forget him? And that as long as we both went into it understanding it would be over after this weekend, everything would be fine?"

  "Yes, yes, and yes. I remember perfectly. So? How are things?"

  "Good and bad."

  "Good first."

  "You can't call me Rusty anymore."

  "Ooohhh. So what can I call you?"

  "How about Lucky?"

  "How lucky?"

  "Hit-the-jackpot lucky."

  Kate gave a low whistle. "So what's the bad part?"

  "The plan to satisfy my curiosity so then I'd be able to forget him isn't working out all that well. My curiosity is far from satisfied, and I think it's going to prove a lot more difficult than I'd thought to drop this man off my radar screen after tomorrow."

  "I see. So you like him."

  Jilly pinched the bridge of her nose. "I'm afraid so."

  "Well, you know, there's no law that says you can't continue this once you return to work."

  "Yes, there is. Engaging in an affair at work is professional suicide. Especially since whoever wins the ARC account is going to be the other one's boss. I get queasy just thinking about that scenario. Besides, there's more to it than just that. Matt just isn't my type."

  "Oh. So you only like him when you're both naked?"

  Jilly frowned. If only that were true. "Not exactly."

  "Well, what's wrong with him?"

  Frustration edged through Jilly—at Matt for causing her all this turmoil, and at herself for allowing him to. "He's just … a very take-charge guy. You know how I don't like that."

  "So he's stepping on your independence."

  "Exactly!"

  "How?"

  "He's … crowding me. Like today, we went out and he offered to pay for my lunch. And then he scheduled a deluxe facial at the spa's resort for me. And then he bought me a bottle of wine. I am perfectly capable of purchasing my own meal, my own wine, and arranging my own facials."

  "Of course you are. That bastard. Does his cruelty never end? You want me to drive out there and kick his smarmy ass?"

  Jilly squeezed her eyes shut. "Ha, ha. Point taken. But it's small stuff like that which shows the sort of person he is."

  "Thoughtful and romantic?"

  "If you'll recall, things with Aaron started out nicely as well. Then the next thing I knew, he expected me to rearrange my life to revolve around his."

  "Yes, but if you'll recall, Aaron also eventually proved not to have a thoughtful or romantic bone in his body."

  "Hey, whose side are you on?"

  "Yours, silly. But I'd hate to see you throw away something that might turn out to be just what you're looking for."

  "But I'm not looking for anything!"

  "Everyone is looking for something, Jilly. I clearly remember you saying you'd snap up the right guy if he came along."

  "Well, Matt is not the right guy."

  "You know what I think your problem is?" Kate asked in a serious voice.

  "I'm almost afraid to ask."

&n
bsp; "You should be, because I don't think you're going to like the answer. Shall I continue anyway?"

  "Might as well," Jilly groused. "What else are best friends for but to make you feel miserable?"

  "I think that you're confused and out of sorts because you really like his man and you didn't expect to. You suspect you could easily more than like him, and that scares you—for all the reasons caring for someone scares anybody, but also because a relationship with Matt could negatively impact your career. And you, more than anyone I know, define yourself by your career."

  "Okay, what are you—psychic?"

  "No. I'm in love. I know the signs."

  Panic fluttered in Jilly's stomach. "Good grief, don't even whisper the 'L' word. That would be a complete disaster."

  "Listen, that's what I thought about Ben. And when I realized I was falling in love with him, I was scared to death. But I took a chance, put my heart on the line, and look how great things turned out."

  "I am not falling in love with Matt."

  "If you say so."

  "I say so. I'm just annoyed at myself for liking him." Liking him waaaaay too much. "And annoyed at him for being so … likable. Damn it, I don't want to like him. I want to forget him."

  "Well, the only way to forget about a man is to find another man."

  "Excellent. I'm making that job one as soon as I get home. You'll help me, right?"

  "Of course. Maybe you should even look around at the resort. Might be someone right under your nose."

  "Maybe I will."

  "I do have to warn you, Jilly—there's one hitch to the plan of forgetting a man by finding another man."

  "What's that?"

  "It only works if you aren't in love with the guy you're trying to forget."

  "Then we shouldn't have any problem, because I am so not in love with Matt."

  "Good."

  "Fine."

  "So are you going to sleep with him tonight?"

  "Of course. I'm not in love with him, but I'm seriously in lust with him. In fact, I'd better go. I'm expecting him soon."

  "All right. Enjoy the rest of your weekend, and call me when you get home tomorrow. We'll plan to hit a few clubs after work on Tuesday so the forgetting can officially begin."

  "Sounds terrific. Bye." Jilly disconnected and slipped her phone into her purse.

  Sounds terrific? She blew out a long sigh. If only. Unfortunately, going clubbing to forget about Matt sounded the exact opposite of terrific.

  * * *

  Matt walked toward the bar feeling like a new man.

  Yup, an hour-long massage had worked out all his kinks and tensions and put everything back into perspective. All he'd needed was an hour to himself, away from that distracting woman, to get his head back on straight.

  The remainder of the weekend was clearly mapped out in his mind. Meet Jilly, have drink, go back to room, enjoy a quickie, get dressed, have dinner with Jack where he'd make subtle inroads in his quest to win the ARC account, go back to the room with Jilly, enjoy another bout—or two, possibly three—of sex, sleep, have one more possible bout of morning sex, pack and get out of Dodge. Then business as usual. Perfect. His plan was like a well-oiled machine.

  Unfortunately his well-oiled machine suffered a cog in its wheel as he rounded the corner and the bar came into view. His gaze instantly zeroed in on Jilly. Jilly, dressed in a pale blue turtleneck and loose-fitting, casual athletic pants, sitting alone at small, round table. Jilly, with her dark, shiny hair curling around her shoulders. Jilly, smiling and laughing—with the guy sitting alone at the table next to hers. A guy who, Matt noted grimly, was looking at Jilly as if she were an ice-cream cone from which he wanted to take a big, long lick.

  There was no mistaking the unpleasant sensation that hit him like a punch in the heart. Jealousy, pure and simple. And not simply because the guy was showing interest in Jilly—while Matt didn't like it, he couldn't blame him. No, it was more the fact that Jilly was smiling and laughing with the jerk instead of using one of her black belt moves to toss him onto his flirtatious ass.

  She's not yours, man, his inner voice chimed in.

  Like hell. Maybe she wasn't his for the long run, but she was his for the remainder of this weekend. And he wasn't about to share her with that damn Brad Pitt look-alike.

  Drawing a deep, calming breath, he walked toward the bar. As he neared their tables, the Pitt look-alike rose and passed her a business card. "I'd love to stay and talk, but I'm meeting an associate at a restaurant in town," Matt overheard him say with regret in his voice. "My office is just a few blocks from yours. Call me if you'd like to get together."

  Pitt-boy moved off. Bludgeoning back his jealousy, Matt unclenched his jaw and walked the last few feet to the table, then sat down across from Jilly.

  She greeted him with a smile. "Hi."

  "Hi." He jerked his head toward the retreating man. "Who's that?" Damn it, he hadn't meant to ask the second he sat down. But at least he'd managed to keep his voice casual.

  She gave a nonchalant shrug and, much to his annoyance, slipped the guy's business card into her purse. "Just a guy who was sitting at the next table. His name is Brad and he's a dentist. His office is close to Maxximum's."

  Matt resisted the urge to look heavenward. Figures the guy's name really was Brad. Or maybe he'd changed his name, from something really nerdy to Brad to match his looks.

  "A dentist, huh? Well, that explains it."

  "Explains what?"

  "Why he eyeballed you like he wanted to clean your teeth—with his tongue."

  She blinked in obvious surprise, then raised her eyebrows. "Did it ever occur to you that if he looked at me that way it might be because he found me attractive—not because he was a dentist?"

  Damn it, he felt like an ass. A disgruntled ass. A jealous, disgruntled ass. He should have kept his mouth shut. "I didn't mean to imply otherwise. It was very obvious that he found you attractive." Giving himself a severe mental shake, he forced a smile. "Can't fault the guy on his taste."

  "Thank you." For several seconds her gaze searched his. "For a minute there you sounded like a jealous lover."

  It was impossible to tell from her tone if that idea annoyed or pleased her. Opting for the unvarnished truth, he said, "I am a jealous lover—right now. Starting Tuesday, I won't be, but for the short remainder of this three-day weekend, you're mine." He shot her a questioning look. "Unless you've had a change of heart?"

  "No," she said quickly.

  A breath he hadn't even realized he held eased from him, and he refused to examine the depth of his relief.

  "So, how was your massage?" she asked.

  I need another one, thanks to Brad the dentist. "It was great. How about the facial?"

  She closed her eyes and gave an exaggerated shiver. "Incredible. I feel like a new woman."

  "Yeah? Hard to believe you could feel any better than you already did." Reaching out, he grasped her hand, and brought it to his lips. He pressed a kiss to her palm, liking the way her eyes darkened at the gesture. "I vote we skip the drinks and go upstairs so you can show me all that gorgeous, pampered skin."

  Her gaze skimmed over him in a way that hiked his blood pressure into the danger zone. "Hmmm. Will you show me all your pampered, relaxed muscles in return?"

  "You show me yours, I'll show you mine. Whaddaya say?"

  "I say showing is good."

  They made their way, hand in hand, to the elevator. Impatience pulled at him, and his hands all but itched to touch her. He couldn't recall ever wanting to touch a woman this badly. Apparently she was suffering from the same impatience because the instant the elevator doors closed, surrounding them in privacy, she pressed him against the wall, and pulled his head down to hers.

  He kissed her with all the raw, edgy, pent-up need pounding through him, need sharpened all the more by her urgency.

  She rubbed herself against his erection, then leaned back to look at him with a devilish, smoky-eyed expression.
"Uh-oh. I don't think your massage worked. You're obviously not nearly as relaxed as you should be."

  "All your fault, I'm afraid."

  "Then you must allow me to fix it."

  "Consider me at your disposal."

  She wound her arms around his neck, and arched against him, her tongue dancing with his. His hands skimmed under the thin cotton of her shirt to touch her warm, soft skin. A low, pleasure-filled moan vibrated in her throat, and he kissed his way down her neck to touch his tongue to the sound.

  The elevator stopped and the doors slid open. They circled down the hallway, kissing, hands searching. He slipped the key card from his back pocket and managed to open the door, not an easy task with Jilly's distracting hands sliding under his shirt.

  Heart knocking against his ribs, he pushed the door closed behind them with his foot. As she had in the elevator, she urged his back against the wall. Breaking off their frantic kiss, she grabbed the ends of his Polo shirt, and he raised his arms so she could pull it over his head. The striped cotton fell to the floor. When he reached for her, she grabbed his wrists and gently pressed them against the wall.

  Their gazes locked and he groaned. With her lips wet and reddened from their kiss, her eyes glittering with desire, her hair messed from his hands, she looked aroused, tempting and sinful.

  "Let me touch you," she whispered.

  He had to swallow to find his voice. "I'm all yours, sweetheart."

  A sexy half smile curved her lips, and in a heartbeat she switched tempo on him, shifting from fast forward to slow seduction. She nipped soft kisses along his jaw and neck while her fingertips glided up and down his torso. His eyes slid shut, and he had to press his fists against the wall to keep them from reaching for her.

  She kissed her way across his chest, dragging her tongue across his nipples, then drawing them into the warmth of her mouth, all while her fingers played gently over his abdomen. She licked and kissed her way lower, her mouth leaving a trail of damp heat. When her fingers brushed beneath the waistband of his jeans, his muscles jerked and a low groan pushed past his lips. Her silky hair brushed over his stomach as she sunk to her knees and unfastened his jeans.

  Opening his eyes, he looked down and watched her free his erection then slowly draw him into her mouth. He hissed in a sharp breath, and slipped his fingers into her hair, absorbing the erotic, arousing sight of her lips gliding over him, the incredible feel of her tongue slowly circling him, the sensation of her hands cupping him, her fingertips brushing over his sensitive skin.