Page 15 of Hot and Bothered

Huh.That was pretty balls-out. While he had no problem with a woman openly expressing her interest in him, there was a professional line of ethics here he wasn’t willing to cross. Neither was he sure she was genuinely interested. He felt a little like a mouse being batted about by a predatory kitten.

He tried to bring it back to the reason they were here. “Well, sharing a full, lush Pinot over a mouthwatering plate of crostini in the right venue can be a sexy experience in itself.”

“Fantasizing about the handsome sommelier might work wonders for a date as well,” she said, eyes sparking in challenge.

“Fantasies cost nothing,” lied the guy who spent his nights, and increasingly his days, playing a sensual loop in his head about a particular person. Those fantasies cost him sleep, peace of mind, and untold supplies of lotion. He should get stock in Jergens.

Monica had the bit between her teeth now. “Your reputation as a guy who knows his way around a woman’s body precedes you. It’s like the equivalent of ‘for a good time, call this number’ on the bathroom stall wall. Lisa Delaney said you were just the ticket after her divorce.”

Lisa Delaney…Lisa Delaney.Ah, yes. Lovely Lisa with the legs that stretched miles past eternity and a penchant for licking whipped cream off his body. That had been over a year ago, long before he had made a vow to keep his dick in his pants. The moment Jules’s soft, lush lips touched his, interest in other women had waned to nothing. He still dated, if you could call it dating. He tried to get excited about a pretty face and a nice pair of breasts but as soon as he got to that crunch moment, it all fell flat. Literally.

His smile felt stitched-on. “How is Lisa these days?”

“Oh, fine. Stillwhippingherself into a frenzy over any cute guy that comes along.” She laughed at her joke, and Tad’s body clenched into tight fists. At what point should he stand up and throw a hissy fit about how insulted he was? If the roles were reversed, the feminists would be out in full force.

So he had a reputation—past tense.Need to dust off those cobwebs? I know a guywho’ll tune you up real good. Gone through a rough break-up and looking to climb back upon the horse? Call this guy. He’s got moves you’ve never seen.

He was good at making a woman feel good and keeping expectations to a minimum. He used to be good at other things. Cooking with passion, laughing like he meant it, loving without reservation.

At his stony silence, she stood and adjusted her skirt, pulling it down in an obvious attempt to draw attention to her thighs. Attention drawn and acknowledged. He was infatuated with another woman, not completely dead below the waist. He made to get up and she placed a hand on his shoulder.

“Look, can I be honest here?”

“Sure,” he said though he really meant ‘no’ because nothing good ever followed that question.

“I’m attracted to you and I think you’re attracted to me.”

For fucking out loud, what the hell was he supposed to say to that? He reached for the professionalism that seemed to have left the room through the air vents about ten minutes back.

“You’ll be reviewing my wine bar once it opens. Seems it wouldn’t really be appropriate.”

She looked down her beautiful Roman nose at him. “Getting a good review inTastyChicagocan make or break a new establishment. I’m sure you’ve heard the statistics about new restaurants. It applies to wine bars, too. Nine out of ten restaurants fail in the first year.”

Those stats were bunk. It was more like one in four.

She ran a nail down his collar bone and unpicked the top-most button of his shirt. For the briefest moment, he considered letting her continue but common sense prevailed.

He placed his hand over hers before she could work her way further. “You can write what you want.”

The edge in his voice made his position crystal. Standing, he swapped her hand out for the door knob, attached to the door he wished he hadn’t closed. This had now taken on the trappings of a crazily inappropriate situation.

Her laugh was low and sultry as she placed a hand on his chest. “Okay, Tad. Just kidding around.”

He felt the door push back against his hand.

On the other side stood Jules, her eyes wide with surprise.

Seven

“Thanks for the interview, Tad. I’ll be in touch.”

The sloe-eyed, raven-haired woman with alabaster skin she must have gotten by bathing in the blood of male virgins slid past Jules with barely a glance. In two brief seconds, she had surmised that Jules was not a threat. Frumpy motherhood was stamped all over her and radiating non-threatening vibes.

Jules’s eyes were inexorably drawn to the undone top button of Tad’s shirt. The Slinkster had just had her hand in a very proprietorial hold over that button and the tasty man flesh beneath it. Like she had needed to give herself a boost of Tad’s body heat for the road.

Jealousy-tinged bile rose in Jules’s throat as she watched this piece of work slither off. She was woman enough to admit it. She fancied her friend something rotten and when another woman mauled him, she felt territorial. And then she felt ill.

Tad looked annoyed, like he’d been caught with both hands in the cookie jar. Except in this case the cookies were stunning brunettes with legs that went on foh-evah. A dull flush flagged high on his scimitar-cut cheekbones.

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