by J. A. Coffey
"It was a genuine pleasure, Ms. Barlow. Here's my card." Rex slid an ivory embossed card across the table.
"Great." Jess stood, slipping it absently into her pocket. "See you later."
"I certainly hope so." Rex stood as she left the table.
Well, Rex was nice. No overt faults...just nice. Vanilla, Suze would call him. Definitely not double hot fudge. A little absorbed in his work, but most entrepreneurs were. Still, she couldn't picture spending time with him outside of casual contact. In fact, she wasn't sure she wanted even that. Rex Stanton's polite attitude enticed her into work mode.
Her temples throbbed and her heart started pounding in a way that had nothing to do with the men in the room. What was the matter with her? Hadn't she always said she wanted a 'nice' guy? She eight hunks hand-selected from a psychological profiling program, guaranteed to be compatible and all she wanted to do was go back to her room and crawl into bed. Alone.
This was turning into a disaster. She turned to the next table, barely meeting the eyes of her next intended prospect. One peep from under her lashes told her it was him. Tall, dark and hottie. Mr. Hot Fudge, who her made her knees weak just looking at her. The kind of man who looked more than promising but who would ultimately end up just like the rest—lying or leaving. Or both. Her palms started to slick. Who was she kidding? She wasn't ready for this, investigation or no.
"Everyone ready?" Seneca beamed at her watch face.
Mr. Hot Fudge stared at her with a faint smile.
Her heart clenched. "I-I'm sorry," Jess apologized. "I'm really not into this kind of thing. I...uh...." Her heart started racing. The room started to go fuzzy around the edges. Breath choked off. Pain blossomed in her chest and she felt the beginnings of a panic attack siphon her remaining courage. She couldn't do this.
He stood up and pulled out her chair for her in an endearingly sweet gesture.
Jess' hands went completely numb. "I...." She just couldn't. "Excuse me."
The room erupted in happy chatter.
She couldn't breathe.
Jess bolted for the lobby. Seneca's startled face flashed before her as she scrambled from the lounge of wannabee lovers. Surprised exclamations and scraping chairs sounded behind her and then Jess was shoving at the lodge's front doors and racing down the gravel path to the large pond. Her stupid, trendy boot heels sunk into the soft earth as she sped toward the water's edge, willing herself and her tears not to fall.
Matteo had waited impatiently for his first real glimpse of Jessica at a prime viewing spot, all prearranged with his sister, of course. The other singles had shown up exactly as planned. Then, when Matteo was safely ensconced at a table with a vacuous female who was more into herself than anyone in the room, he'd signaled Seneca to send for her.
When Jessica entered the room behind Alan, he'd wanted to smash his fist into the male model's self-assured grin and haul Jessica to someplace private. She was radiant. Breathtakingly beautiful in a subtle way that lured him like a fire ant to a sugar cube. Her auburn hair was arranged in a soft waves and she wore a pair of boot cut jeans that clung to every curve. Matteo whistled softly through his teeth. Her photo and tapes hadn't done her justice. Seneca shot him a worried glance from across the room.
Matteo gave himself a mental shake.
At the very most, Jessica was here for someone else in the program, he reminded himself. At the very least, she was out to destroy his carefully crafted dreams. This was about his professional reputation, not his libido. He'd make sure she found a match or play the part himself, if necessary, but that was it.
No personal involvement. That was his motto.
He shifted in his seat, stifling the urge to drag her somewhere where he could strip off her jeans and boots and trace the delicate curves of her body with his tongue. His visceral reaction to her presence was unexpected and more than a little disturbing, especially given the way she'd snubbed him in the lobby. She was some kind of puzzle. One he'd like to figure out, piece by pretty piece.
He'd watched her during Seneca's speech. Despite Alan's incredible looks, Jessica didn't seem interested. She seemed agitated. Not a good sign. During the first round, their tension was palpable. Alan looked like a scolded puppy caught nosing in the trash. And Jessica? Her expressive hazel eyes fluctuated from uncertainty to irritation. In the second session, Stanton had no impact either, with his cold air of corporate command. Matteo had wondered how a man like Stanton would affect a savvy white collar crime investigator like Jessica, but once again, she seemed less than enthusiastic. Things couldn't have been worse.
Until it was his turn.
When she bolted from his table without so much as a second glance, Matteo felt his heart plummet to the floor. A guy like him could have his pick of women. Could and did.
Had he misjudged her? Her program profile identified her as a woman who needed encouragement to completely open herself to others. She wasn't going to be an easy target, but Matteo hadn't expected her to run off. Not from him.
Not unless she had something to hide.
It was a risk he couldn't afford to take. He gave Seneca a brief explanation and headed after Jessica's trim figure, praying he was making the right decision. The air smelled of rain, moist and crisp at the same time, like a bracing shot of whiskey. Heavy gray clouds formed over the mountain range, visible in the distance. He caught up to her at the edge of the pond. The mounting breeze whipped her curls into a frenzied tangle around her face as she whirled to face him.
"You shouldn't have followed me. I'm not..." she began, as edgy as a yearling before gentling.
"Here." He thrust out his hand, flustered by the doubt etched in the fine lines around her eyes. "I think you dropped this. At least, I'm hoping it wasn't the guy next to you." He smiled, going for encouragement instead of charm this time. "Could make for a really awkward evening."
Her gaze lowered to the white keycard in his palm. For a moment, he wasn't certain how she would react. When a smile tugged at the corner of her lips, he knew he'd made the right choice to come after her. She snatched the card out of his hand.
"It's mine." She slipped the key into her back pocket. "I'm sorry for bailing back there, it's just...well, you know how it is. The pressure and all." Her lips pursed in chagrin.
Boy, did he ever. This week was his last chance to figure out is she was here as a legitimate client or an expert witness for some high priced attorney's office.
"Yeah." He shoved his hands into his pockets. "I know."
She tilted her head, in an entirely disarming manner. "I'm Jess, by the way." She extended her right hand, straight ahead. "Jessica Barlow."
He shook her hand, reveling in the feel of her skin, the tapered silkiness of her slim fingers and the warmth of her palm. She was one tempting woman. He gave her fingers a gentle but firm squeeze before she withdrew.
"Matteo, but you can call me Matt. Everyone else does."
Why did he say that?
It wasn't true. Everyone, including Seneca, called him by his full given name. He didn't mean to lie to her; he just wanted to draw her out a little, to get her to respond to him. Women loved nicknames, didn't they?
"Okay, Matt." Jess gave him a smile that took his breath away like a punch to the abdomen. She shifted uncertainly, like a restless yearling about to bolt. Her hazel eyes darted from him to the building she'd just vacated and back. "Thanks for retrieving my key." She stepped towards the lodge. A step away from him.
"Hey, why don't we go for a little walk?" he suggested. A storm brewed not ten miles out, but he wanted to spend a few more minutes with her, maybe discover her motives. "No bells, no time limit, no pressure." He couldn't let her escape to her room, not yet.
Jess cocked her head. "Do I know you? Your voice sounds familiar...."
Matteo clenched his jaw. He shouldn't have made the phone call, but he'd been so concerned she wouldn't take the bait, entrusting the task to anyone else had seemed a bad idea.
He cleared
his throat. "Don't think so, but I'd like to change that." The wind tugged at her hair again and he stuffed his hands back into his pockets to keep from tucking it behind her ear. "How about a little fresh air?"
Adrenaline coursed through him like a wild mustang. He wanted to lay her down right there in the grass and kiss the frown from her face. Matteo wet his lips, hungry for the taste of her skin on his tongue. He'd gone without a woman for too long. He was as keyed up as a breeding stud.
She hesitated before answering, slow seconds that seemed to last forever. His heartbeat ticked off each one with painful precision. Would she or wouldn't she?
"Okay," she said with a cautious glance at the sky behind him. "But we stay close to the lodge. Just in case."
Whether she meant to run for cover from the rain or him, he didn't care. Matteo smiled. Little by little he would work out Jessica Barlow's motives. She'd taken a chance on this trip and now she'd agreed to some sustained contact with him. He was making progress.
Score two for LoveLines.
Chapter Three
When Mr. Hot Fudge, a.k.a. Matt, took her hand to lead her down the crushed gravel path, Jess felt her cheeks grow warm. She was just being polite, she told herself. He'd caught her off guard. The guy had rescued her room key and his broad shoulders blocked the wind in a way that made her feel soft and feminine, despite her charging out of the lodge like a runaway freight train to Singlesville.
The fact that she wanted to eat him with a spoon had nothing to do with it.
A roll of thunder pealed in the far distance. They'd best wrap up this little stroll or risk getting caught in the storm. She glanced at him out of the corner of her eyes. He seemed content, if a little lost in thought. There was no discomfort in his stride. In fact, he appeared quite at ease. Her jerk-o-meter was suspiciously silent.
Crunch, crunch. The sound of their boots filled the air.
They were quiet...too quiet. She felt obligated to say something, as they meandered down the trail skirting the lodge. Some twenty feet on the other side of the path, a wildlife preserve bordered the lodge property. Groves of aspen and pine trees stretched high above and somewhere a bird cried out piercing the silence.
"So, this whole singles vacation thing...it's pretty weird, huh?" she asked. Her heart fluttered like a teenager. Matt had melting chocolate brown eyes and he'd had a nice firm grip. His palms were an appealing combination of softness and calluses. A guy who wasn't afraid to get his hands dirty, she guessed.
"Oh, I don't know." The hint of a Hispanic accent in his Southern drawl made her knees weak. He flashed her a boyish grin. "I'm feeling pretty lucky about now."
Jess recoiled. "How so?" Did he think he was getting lucky just because she'd agreed to a walk? Ugh! She planted her hands on her hips.
Matt's forehead wrinkled. "I'm talking to a beautiful woman in one of my favorite locales. What more could a guy ask for?" His hand stole up and brushed the hair from her cheek. "How about you? You into the great outdoors?"
Jess gave an inward sigh of relief. Okay, so he bypassed strike one. It didn't mean he wasn't a creep in hunk's clothing.
"It is pretty amazing here. I'm not usually into the whole outdoorsy thing, but...." She breathed deeply. "A girl could get used to this." The scenery was breathtaking, despite the growing clouds behind them. She couldn't tell if it was the fresh air or the nearness of Matt that made her feel at ease. "Are you from around here?" She didn't know if it was taboo to ask too much personal information.
"Texas born and bred," he volunteered. "But I get around. I like to travel. You?"
"Some." If you counted schlepping around with a travel schedule freak. "If it's on my own time."
"You sound like a woman who knows what she wants out of life." Matt scuffed his heels in the gravel, and smiled at her.
"Maybe." Except when it comes to dating, she finished in her head.
"I like that. You're not afraid to go after what you really want."
If only he knew! Jess swallowed the lump in her throat. "Oh, I don't know. I'm not even sure why I came on this trip."
The truth was she didn't know what she wanted. It was far easier to nail down what she didn't want. Like a string of too-handsome men cheating on her, just as they had her mother. Jess thought about her father, two stepfathers, and the string of successive boyfriends her mother had brought to their quiet suburban home. Each one promising to love them forever, before abandoning them for their own selfish desires. Then, Stan.... She shuddered. Far easier to find fault and never take a chance on a second date. Far easier to spend every night alone for the rest of her life, even if she couldn't quite give up hope that somewhere was a guy worth having—both in the sack and out.
"Change of subject?" he suggested. "You got quiet on me."
She smiled, gratefully. "How about we start at the beginning?"
They made the usual small talk. She found out he owned a horse ranch, liked live comedy (a plus in her book), and he was allergic to pecans—blasphemy. None of her mother's famous bourbon pecan pie for him. He was funny and interesting. She wished she could read his LoveLines profile. You could tell a lot about a guy by what he wrote.
"So, what's your favorite thing about owning a horse ranch?" she asked.
He thought for a moment. "I guess the colts. I mean, we breed horses for business, but there's just something about each successful birth that draws me in."
Jess felt her lips curve. That was surprising.
She knew little about horse ranching, having spent a few mandatory summer months learning to ride. Still, she'd have guessed a powerhouse like Matt to be more interested in the breeding aspects, than the birthing. She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye and caught him staring at her. He smiled back.
Thunder boomed overhead and there was definite hint of moisture in the blowing breeze. The temperature plummeted. Jess sniffed as the tip of her nose started to tingle. Her panic attack had evaporated, surprising her. She'd expected not to feel anything but anxiety or disdain for a guy this gorgeous. He was as decadent as dark chocolate.
"You cold?" Matt took off his denim jacket and slung it over her shoulders. It smelled like him, an intoxicating blend of citrus aftershave and the warm scent of his skin.
"Thanks. It looks like rain. We should be getting back before the storm hits." She didn't really want to go. She really wanted to run her tongue on his skin and see if he tasted as good as he looked.
He nodded. "Okay." He eyed her cautiously.
Another burst of thunder, this one directly overhead. Jess started. Her ears popped as rain began to spatter them and the ground.
"Oh, no! We're too late!" A fat drop plopped on her cheeks, followed by five more. They'd be soaked through in seconds. And she was wearing ivory silk. She wanted to laugh and cry at the same time.
"Better run for it," Matt suggested.
When had they gotten so far from the lodge? "We'll never make it." She looked down at her impractical stiletto boots and the sharp gravel path back to the lodge.
Matt's dark brows furrowed as he followed her gaze. "Let me carry you."
"No way," she protested. "You can't hold my weight!"
Matt gave her a look of disbelief. "Yes, I can. Here, let me...." He took a step towards her.
The sky boomed again and opened up without warning. Rain poured from the clouds, obscuring the landscape from view and drenched the front of her blouse more effectively than a football post-game celebration. Jess stifled a little shriek. It was cold!
"There's no lightning. Head this way!" Matt hollered and grabbed her hand. His skin was slick from the rain. He tugged her sideways off the path and towards the trees. She stumbled after him, hoping they'd make it before the worst of the onslaught.
They raced further into the pines until the branches sheltered most of the rain. The occasional drop landed on them, but she was so soaked it hardly mattered.
"Whew!" Matt's eyes crackled like firelight and his cheeks were flushed.
"That was some rush," he joked.
"No kidding." Jess tried to calm her breathing. Was she that out of shape? She slicked her sopping hair off her face. "I must look a mess."
Matt raised his upturned palm and wiped the rain from her cheek. "Actually, you look beautiful." His pupils were dilated. "Wow."
He sounded like he really meant it. His chest rose and fell rapidly when he breathed, though he was obviously physically fit.
Jess gulped. Matt shifted closer, until they were almost touching. Their damp bodies were only inches apart. His pale shirt was almost transparent. The muscles of his chest and abdomen were clearly defined underneath. No doubt about it. He'd give Alan some serious competition in the male model department. Her body warmed with desire. It had been a long time since a man had stood so close to her. She felt her nipples bead with excitement. Around them, the forest was redolent with the scent of pine needles and rain. She'd never thought of a storm as erotic, until now. The trees were quiet except for a few last droplets seeking the earth.
"Here, take your jacket back. I'm not cold, anymore." She slipped out of the wet denim, feeling flushed. Her skin was hot and prickled all over. What was wrong with her?
She couldn't remember the last time a man had this affect on her. Not even Stan, with his slick wooing, came close to the primitive heat radiating from Matt.
Something about the nearness of him, the combination of steam rising from their bodies awoke something deep within her. Rain dripped down the back of her neck and she shivered at the sensation. Her senses were awash with the combination of his scent and the moist forest around them.
Matt's gaze left hers for a moment, traveling down the length of her rain-soaked figure. He grabbed his jacket from her hand and tossed it aside into the forest debris like a blanket. Jess glanced down. Her nipples were puckered and stiff, protruding through the wet material of her blouse and her thin bra. She was obviously aroused and yet she didn't feel any shame. Not with him. His gaze raked over her like fire.
"I...we...we should be getting back...." She began. Her brain was foggy with desire. She wanted him, wanted his hands on her. Why was it so hard to think?