by J. A. Coffey
"What'll it be?" He wiped his hands on his hand towel.
"Um," Jess hesitated. She hadn't thought to ask. "A cold imported beer for him and a vodka tonic with extra lime for me. Top shelf, please." She could use a little fortitude. "Better make mine a double."
The bartender nodded and moved away.
Jess scanned the sky behind the windows while she waited, marveling at how quickly the storm had cleared. It was still early enough to watch the sun set. Maybe they could dine on her patio. She wasn't above taking advantage of the breathtaking scenery to create a romantic mood. She needed all the help she could get.
The bartender slid her drinks across the polished wood surface, following her gaze. "Storm's blown over."
Jess shivered, thinking of Matt's hot kisses trickling across her neck. "Something tells me it might start up again." She could feel her cheeks warm.
The bartender jerked his chin. "Usually does this time of year. Every afternoon right around 3:00. Just like clockwork."
"Every afternoon?" Her stomach dipped in a sudden sinking sensation that had nothing to do with the drink in front of her. Matt seemed to know a lot about this part of the country. Had he known about the impending rainstorm? "Are you sure about that?" Jess squeezed her limes against the side of the glass and swizzled her cocktail straw.
The bartender shrugged. "Pretty much. Let me know if there's anything else you need."
She slumped in her seat. "Thanks." She gulped half her drink, feeling a little sick.
Matt had been exciting company so far, but the rain could have provided him with ample opportunity to get her alone and vulnerable—the hallmark of a playboy. Was she paranoid? Jess had learned to listen to her intuition. Ignoring it had led her to her scummy ex-husband Stan. She squared her shoulders, preparing for confrontation.
"Excuse me, Miss. Is this seat taken?" Matt chuckled and slid onto the stool next to her.
Her inner alarm buzzed a warning, even as his aftershave enveloped her in a seductive embrace. She'd always loved a clean scent on a man. Electric shivers crackled up her thigh when his knee brushed against her.
"Feeling better?" He cocked his head and gave her a smile that made his eyes dance.
Hot fudge with a cherry on top.
Maybe she could shut off her alarm, just for the evening.
"A little." She took a sip of her drink. God, he did look good enough to eat.
He tapped the frosted beer bottle in front of him. "This for me? Good call." He tilted the bottle back and she watched his Adam's apple bob as he swallowed.
She wanted to run her tongue along his throat. Jess swallowed hard. Her warning meter pinged again in her ears. She tried to ignore it. "So, what's your story? Ever been married?"
"Nope." Matt shook his head.
She couldn't imagine someone not snatching him up. "Why not?"
"Never found the right girl, I guess." He fiddled with the label on his beer bottle and gave her a look she couldn't read, not with all her years of experience as an investigator. "How about you?"
"Oh, you know. Typical cliché. Married too young, for all the wrong reasons."
Matt's brows rose. "Yeah? Like what?"
This time Jess shrugged. "Security? I don't know. My mom was divorced, a couple of times. I think I just wanted the fantasy of a white picket fence, a great career and a handsome husband completely devoted to me."
Matt took a swig. "What went wrong?"
My husband was a cheating pig? No, she couldn't say that. "Uh, I was too busy building my career."
"So what? He didn't like you outshining him?"
Jess squirmed. Time for a little truth. "Let's just say Stan wasn't the devoted type."
"Ah." Matt nodded. "Very foolish man. If you were mine...." He stopped suddenly as if realizing what he was about to say.
Jess felt her heart flutter. What if she was? She didn't dare think it.
After an uncomfortable pause where Jess didn't know what to say, he downed another healthy swig, looking as if he wanted to wash the taste of the words out of his mouth. Poor guy was dangling in the wind with that last comment.
He was adorable. She wanted to kiss him senseless.
Instead, she glanced out the window, giving him time to regain his composure. A dazzling sunset turned the clouds crimson and purple. Dissipating thunder clouds. Her inner radar went bonkers.
No matter how much she liked him, wanted him, she couldn't get past it. Gorgeous or not, she'd best find out if he was sincere, before she made a total fool of herself.
"You seem to know a lot about this area." She swirled her tumbler with enough force to crack the ice against the glass and took a swallow of vodka and lime.
"Some. Not as much as I'd like to." His eyes hawked over her face as if he was memorizing it. "Why do you ask?"
"Does it rain often this time of year?" she asked.
He straightened in his seat, and the warm twinkle doused in his eyes. "I couldn't say. My visits have been fairly limited to a couple of weekends away from work. I haven't been here in years." He leaned over and captured her hand off the edge of her glass. "You're stabbing that poor lime to death. What's up, Jess?" he asked.
"You said Montana was one of your favorite locales." She exhaled noisily and gulped another mouthful of vodka and tonic. She couldn't help being a suspicious creature. It was her nature, what made her excel at her profession. "The bartender said you could practically set your watch by the weather. Did you know it was going to rain when you asked me on a walk?"
The set of his shoulders relaxed. "Clouds were gathering in the distance, Jess. Plain as the nose on your face." He took another mouthful of beer before continuing. "Did I know it was going to rain? Of course, I did. I just didn't think we'd get caught in it. I hadn't planned on being so...interested...in walking." His cheeks flushed.
Was he actually blushing beneath that tan skin?
Jess bit her lip again. She'd been pretty interested in walking, too. Couldn't find fault in that logic, she thought, as the vodka dissolved some of her ragged emotions.
"So...." She took a deep breath trying to regain her composure. "How often do you find yourself being interested in rainstorms?" Her lips were starting to lose feeling from the rapid intake of alcohol. Good. It would keep her from an anxiety attack.
His smile returned. "Not as often as I used to. And not half as often as I'd like." He finished off his first beer and the bartender slid another across the polished bar counter. "What about you? How'd a knockout like you end up at a place like this?"
He thought she was a knockout. Her bullshit alarm stopped pinging.
Jess giggled. "It's true. Girls like me don't often slum in five star luxury resorts." She finished her drink and selected a piece of ice to suck, wishing for a moment that it was Matt's tongue slipping between her lips. "The things my mother never told me...." She let her voice trail off with an affected sigh.
His eyes fixed on her fingertips as she wet her lips with the rapidly melting cube and let it dribble into her mouth. His tongue came out and wet the crease of his lips as if he could taste the vodka-tinged liquid. "What else didn't your mother warn you about?" His voice was even more husky than usual.
Her blood surged to the surface of her skin. Had she eaten today? Must be the vodka on an empty stomach. She took a sip of the fresh drink the bartender placed in front of her, feeling really glad that her inner alarm had been wrong. "Men." She glanced at him. "Men like you." Matt was a charmer, for sure, as much as Stan had been back in his heyday in college.
Matt blinked. "That's a pretty bold statement. You don't know that much about me."
"I know more than you think." She challenged and tipped her glass again. She had him pegged.
"Really?" His brow raised a fraction. "Tell me." He crossed his arms over his chest.
"Tall, dark. Decently attractive." She knew the understatement would goad him a little, and she liked teasing him.
"Well, thank you very much." Matt l
eaned back on the stool. His eyes were alert and amused. He was clearly playing along with her game.
She gestured at his expensive watch. "Moderately wealthy. Self-confident. And from our encounter in the woods, you're used to getting your own way. You're either an heir apparent or you're an entrepreneur."
"Guilty on all counts." Matt chuckled, more at ease. "Now, you're a psychic."
"I suppose I could be." She liked the sound of his laugh. Just the sound of his Texan drawl made her knees weak. She took another swallow of heavenly courage. The vodka tonic fizzled over her taste buds, better than champagne. "If you believe in that sort of thing."
Matt shrugged. "My grandmother, Abuela Tina, was really big into fortune-telling. Said it made her feel more in control of her life. She swore by her palm reader."
Jess laughed. "No wonder you signed up for LoveLines. Sounds like a palmistry term." She felt a little wobbly.
Matt's hand froze over his beer bottle. "Uh, yeah. How about that?" He laughed, but his eyes didn't crinkle like they usually did.
"No need to be embarrassed. Clairvoyance." Jess nodded, slipping off her stool a tiny bit. "We could all use a little of that." She righted herself, as Matt's hands grasped her shoulders to steady her. "So, what do you do, exactly? When you're not strolling in thunderstorms, that is."
Matt shifted on his stool, leaning very close to her face. "You don't really want to talk about work right now, Jess. Do you?" He put his hand over hers. "I'd rather kiss you again."
She fought the urge not to stare at his mouth. Not to wonder what he could be doing with those luscious lips. He was a nice guy—not overly sensitive about her inquisitiveness and not easily riled. She liked a man that could hold his own without running over her.
"Okay, Mr. Soothsayer. Read my palm. What's going to happen?" She opened her hand for his inspection.
"Let's see...." He gave her a cheeky grin before tracing the creases of her palm. "It appears you have a very long heart line. Hmm, there's a break near your wrist. Signifies change?"
"Boy, was there ever." Jess snatched her hand back and almost fell off the back of her stool again.
Matt blinked. "Whoa, querida. Maybe you should take it easy on the drinks. At least until dinner." He signaled the bartender.
"I'm not that tipsy. It's these stools. The leather is slippery." Her stomach fluttered at his nearness. Or maybe it was the second double vodka tonic. She couldn't be sure. All she knew is she felt warm and fuzzy and infinitely attracted to him. "You didn't answer my question." She poked him lightly on the chest. "What happens tonight?" Her heart was racing.
Matt held her hand in his and stared into her eyes. His fingers traced little patterns across her skin. "As much or as little as you want. You've got the reins, Jess."
She was in control? That was a first. With Stan it had always been his way or the highway. Jess shivered, enjoying the heady sensation of power.
"I'm hungry," she said. And I've been starving for too long. She pushed her drink away.
"Mmm." Matt scanned the menu card, keeping his arm around her shoulders. She snuggled against him, reveling in the citrusy scent of his skin.
"Are we eating here?" she asked.
He shook his head and signaled the bartender. "Send an order of stuffed mushrooms, the grilled salmon and a chocolate soufflé to room...?"
"One-oh-two." Jess said. "Dinner courtesy of LoveLines."
"You heard the lady." Matt signed the order slip in an illegible scrawl. "How long will it be?" His hand on her shoulder was so warm she could feel the heat radiating off him.
The bartender shrugged. "Depends on how backed up the kitchen is. This time of night, could take close to an hour."
Matt nodded. "Thanks. Send for some bread, will you? The lady could use it."
The bartender nodded. "Sure thing."
He didn't need to take care of her. She wasn't that inebriated. The lounge was a little hazy, but it was dimly lit. As long as the floor stayed under her feet and the stool didn't tip again, she'd be fine. She flashed Matt a smile, grateful that he was so considerate. She should probably tell him, especially after she was so suspicious earlier.
"You're thoughtful. I like that quality in a man."
"I'm glad you approve." He finished his beer.
"I do. Give my compliments to your mother."
Matt was suddenly serious. "My mother and father passed away when I was young."
"Oh, Matt! I'm so sorry!" She wanted to crawl under her stool, but Matt grabbed her hand and pulled her closer to him.
"It was a long time ago. I was raised by my grandmother." He gave her a sheepish smile. "Mi Abuela Tina."
Jess relaxed a little. "Then, compliments to your Abuela Tina." She sighed and leaned back against him. Too bad they weren't already in her room. She could think of a few delectable morsels she'd like to nibble on. Like Matt's earlobes.
He ducked his head and nuzzled her neck. "You smell wonderful. Almost good enough to eat."
"Do I? I was just thinking the same thing about you." She leaned closer until they were only inches apart. "And you have really sexy eyes too. Like coffee. Or chocolate," she added. "I love chocolate. Hey!" She drew back so she could look into his eyes. It was a little hard to focus. "What kind of man orders a chocolate soufflé for dessert?"
Matt laughed. "A man who knows how to please a woman." He stroked her cheek with his index finger.
"So, you don't like chocolate, but you'll eat it if it gets you in my pants?" Her head felt thick.
"Oh, no. I'm a bona fide chocoholic. There's just so much you can do with a beautiful woman and chocolate." His lips were tantalizingly close. "But if we're being honest here, there isn't much I wouldn't do to get in your pants." He was so near she could smell the faint scent of beer, warm and earthy, on his breath. Jess held her breath, but her bullshit meter was mute.
An honest man, fancy that.
She'd always loved the smell of fresh beer on a man's breath, harkening back to her early college days at crowded frat parties. Wrapped in the warmth of Matt's arms with the faint odor of cigarette smoke lingering in the lounge, the scent of beer, and his aftershave mingling in her nostrils, she almost felt like a coed again. But this time, there was no alarm pinging in her head. This time, there was only the delicious attraction pulling her towards him like a moth to a flame. The sexy sensation was enough to drown any last misgivings she had about him, at least for tonight. Tonight, she would be bold and daring!
"Matt," she whispered.
"Mmmhmm?" he rumbled. His eyes fixed on her mouth in a look that transformed her insides to Jell-O.
"I should really get back to my room." Her pulse beat erratically as a rush of desire commingled with the alcohol in her system.
He licked his lips as if he could taste her. "You should?" His voice was tinged with disappointment and his pupils were dilated. His arms tightened around her, drawing her closer to his face. She could feel his breath on her mouth. It wouldn't take much for their lips to touch.
"We should both go," Jess repeated. She couldn't wait to kiss him again. "Before things get cold."
Matt drew back, his brow furrowed in confusion.
"I'm all warmed up." Jess lowered her lids, giving him her best come-hither look. "And it would be a shame to waste all that chocolate."
*****
He didn't give a damn, he told himself.
Not about her and not about the damn chocolate soufflé.
She was just another woman. He could handle this.
So why did he feel he knew her already? Could have been the hours he spent checking her profile for inconsistencies that would signal her ruse. Or maybe it was just her. Something in her fearful feistiness spoke to him.
Her backside brushed against his fly as Jess bent over to insert her keycard into the tiny slot near the handle. His cock surged and Matteo cursed himself for a liar.
He did care.
"Hurry up," she whispered. "We only have about an hour be
fore room service arrives."
Matteo slid his hand along the back of her neck and gave her a gentle squeeze as they slipped into her room. "Jess, why are we whispering?"
She giggled, something that normally repulsed him in a grown woman. The sound of her snickering was like sparkling wine, light and fizzy and too easily intoxicating.
Damn, she was cute when she was tipsy.
They moved into her darkened room, her hand drawing him to her as if guiding a drowning man to shore. Any guy in his right mind would be thanking his lucky stars, but all he could do is wonder about her abrupt change in attitude. It could be the alcohol rapidly entering her system. He sure hoped not.
He'd have sworn that not a half hour ago, she'd been ready to call the whole evening off. Her stance, her stilted responses...they were tell-tale signs of a woman recanting her offer. Or covering up her motives. Matteo had excused himself, trying desperately to bring his raging sex drive under control and to give her the time she needed to come up with a plausible excuse. He hadn't been prepared to feel so disappointed.
Then, wonder of wonders, she'd had a change of heart. Or so it seemed.
He'd had to do some dancing around the subject of his work and family, but after her initial suspicions, Jess had succumbed to the lethal combination of his advances and too many double vodka tonics. It seemed she was just like any other red blooded woman.
Except that he cared.
It made him nervous. He hadn't been nervous around a woman since...hell, he couldn't remember when. Maybe not since college.
"Are you sure about this, Jess? You've had a few drinks." She wasn't slurring her words, but her overly chatty demeanor was out of character. He had to be sure. The vodka helped breakdown her inhibitions but he wasn't a cad. If she chose to turn back now, it could jeopardize everything he'd planned—for her and for his business, but there was no way he was going to talk her into something she didn't want.
Jess sighed and something deep and primal within him responded. He trembled at the force of desire that shot through him. He wanted to ravage her lips.