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It's A Guy Thing!
Cindi Myers


THE WRONG SUITE…When Cassie Carmichael planned a night of seduction, all she wanted was to put some life into a dull relationship. Instead, she finds herself unexpectedly between the sheets with the man she's dreamed about–Guy Walters. One night with this guy is more than she could ask for, and she'll have the hot memories long afterward. But he's not walking away!BUT THE RIGHT GUY!Opening the door to Cassie that night sparks Guy's fantasies and results in the wildest romp he's ever had. He has a thing for her…and now that he knows she has a thing for him, he's going to show her that his bed is always the right bed.









He was getting turned on watching her


In fact, Guy had been turned on since the moment Cassie had shown up at his door. He shifted in his seat, hoping she wouldn’t notice how aroused he was becoming, and tried to focus on their conversation.

“You deserve better than that, Cassie.”

Her eyes met his, questioning. Challenging. “Do I?”

Suddenly he knew words weren’t the answer she wanted. It was time for action.

Their lips met and he heard her sigh. Or maybe that was him.

She pressed against him eagerly, her lips soft as velvet, warm and pliant beneath his own. He opened his mouth and she followed his lead. Their tongues met, hesitant at first, then with more eagerness. He hadn’t been wrong. Cassie was a woman of passion. He’d been out of his mind to think he could resist a temptation like this.

“Guy?” Her voice was breathy as she broke off their kiss. Her tongue darted out to lick at her lips, a gesture that sent another jolt of desire through him. “Why don’t we go into the bedroom?”


Dear Reader,

I’ve always admired people who had the courage to go after their dreams. Moving away from the comfort of routine and taking risks to make a dream come true demands a special kind of bravery.

Writing has always been my dream, so I’m especially pleased that my first Temptation novel deals with two people going after their own goals and desires. Writing this book also gave me a chance to set a story in one of my favorite places, Colorado, and to write about one of my favorite pastimes, downhill skiing.

I fell in love with Guy and Cassie as they pursed each other and their dreams. I hope you’ll love them, too. I’d enjoy hearing from you. Write to me care of Harlequin Books, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario, M3B 3K9, Canada, or e-mail me at CindiMyers1@aol.com. And visit me on the Web at www.TemptationAuthors.com.

Happy reading,

Cindi Myers


It’s a Guy Thing!

Cindi Myers






www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


For Amy, Debby, Carole, Gail, Patty, Lynda and Terri.

Thanks for being my cheerleaders.




Contents


Chapter 1 (#ue2b1f50b-f350-5101-b833-6dbb7c155a38)

Chapter 2 (#ub3290375-e349-54c5-864d-cff5950ee1cb)

Chapter 3 (#u3fab895d-c6e5-5ff8-a6cf-884342cb8b33)

Chapter 4 (#u585dea07-8a62-5cd1-8d2d-0bf0150f91c9)

Chapter 5 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 6 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 7 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 8 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 9 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 10 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 11 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 12 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 13 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 14 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 15 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 16 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 17 (#litres_trial_promo)




1


THE SLEIGH BELLS attached to the door of the Java Jive jangled wildly as Cassie Carmichael burst into the coffee shop. She shoved through the swinging half door marked Employees Only, tossed her coat and purse aside, jerked her apron from the hook on the wall and slammed her empty coffee mug down on the counter. Her T-shirt read Women For Disarmament but the look on her face said she was in the mood to shoot first and ask questions later.

“Forget to take your happy pill this morning?” Her best friend and co-worker, Jill Sheldon, filled Cassie’s mug with espresso and added steamed milk and a generous dollop of chocolate syrup.

Cassie glared at her friend and grabbed the cup with both hands. She took a long drink, then set it down with a thunk, sending the mocha sloshing onto the marble counter. “Do you think I’m too ordinary?” she demanded.

Jill turned from the coffee grinder, one perfectly arched brow raised in question. “Too ordinary? What do you mean?”

“Just what I said. Am I too ordinary?” Cassie held her arms down by her sides, palms out, inviting inspection. “Is there anything at all about me that would make the average person take a second look, or am I the kind of person other people naturally take for granted?”

“Hmm.” Jill poured water into the coffee machine and flipped the switch to start a fresh pot. “Let me guess. Boring Bob is taking you for granted.”

“I wish you wouldn’t call him that. He’s not boring.” Cassie grabbed a cloth and began mopping up her spill.

“He is and you know it. What’s he done this time?”

It wasn’t so much what Bob had done, it was more what he hadn’t done. Though Cassie had been dating him for more than two years now, he hadn’t done anything to indicate that his feelings for her were serious. Lately, he treated her more like a personal assistant than a girlfriend.

“What did Bob do?” Jill prompted.

“He asked me to pick up his dry cleaning on my way home yesterday.”

Jill nodded. “And of course, you did it.”

“Yeah, I did it.” She took another sip of coffee, then moved over to straighten a stack of napkins, avoiding Jill’s gaze. “It’s not that I really even minded doing it, it’s just…” The hurt formed a lump in her throat she could hardly talk around. All those times she’d swallowed her pride and never complained had rushed back today, threatening to overwhelm her.

Jill moved over and put a hand on her shoulder. “Just what? He forgot to say thank you? He complained because the cleaners put too much starch in his shirts?”

She took a deep breath. “When I got to his apartment with the cleaning, he was watching a movie with his friend Don. I laid the cleaning on the back of the couch and Bob said, ‘Good old Cassie. She always takes care of me.”’

Jill winced. “Doesn’t Bob already have a mother? Now he needs you to be another one?”

“That’s not the worst of it.” Cassie leaned back against the counter, arms folded under her breasts. “On my way into the kitchen, Don called out, ‘Good old Cassie, bring me a beer, why don’t you?’ And I brought it to him!” She curled her hands into fists, heart pounding at the memory. “I should have poured it over his head.”

“Yes, you should have.” Jill patted her shoulder and moved over to tend the coffee machine. “Next time, you will.”

If there was a next time. “What am I going to do?” Cassie asked. “Lately, when I’m with Bob, I feel like…like I’m invisible or something.”

“Even when you’re in bed?”

Cassie felt her face heat. “There hasn’t been much, um, activity in that department lately.”

Jill’s eyebrows rose. “No wonder you’re so grouchy.”

Before Cassie could think of a retort, two women came in and Jill left to take their order. Cassie retrieved a tray of bagels from the cooler and began to fill the glass jar on the counter. It wasn’t as if she and Bob never had sex…though it had been a while. When they first got together, the sex had been good. Pretty good anyway. Bob wasn’t exactly creative, but he’d been energetic enough.

Now whenever she tried to get something going with him, he said he was too tired, or he ended up having to work late. At first, she’d taken his dedication to his job as a good sign. He was planning for the future—their future. Now, she was beginning to wonder if there was something wrong with her. Maybe Bob wasn’t the only boring one in this relationship.

After the two customers left, Jill refilled her cup and perched on a stool behind the counter. “Have you thought of coming right out and asking Bob what’s wrong? You know—talking about it?”

Cassie ducked her head and picked at a scuffed place on the edge of the counter. “I’ve thought of it. I just haven’t gotten around to doing it yet.”

“Are you afraid of what he’ll say?”

She winced. “No…yes…I don’t know.” She slid onto the stool next to Jill. “What if this isn’t Bob’s fault? What if it’s me?”

Jill frowned. “How do you figure that?”

She sighed and removed the glass dome from a plate of chocolate donuts. If she was going to hold her own little pity party, she might as well enjoy the appropriate refreshments. “Maybe if I’d finished college and gone on to a real career….” She pinched off a bite of donut and popped it into her mouth. “Maybe then Bob would think I’m more interesting and exciting.”

Jill made a sour face. “Bob has a diploma and a so-called career and he’s about as exciting as shower mold.” She reached over and helped herself to half the donut. “And it’s not as if you’re a total slacker. You’re going to school.”

“I don’t think Bob thinks massage therapy school is quite the same as college.”

“When you graduate, you’ll probably help more people than any accountant ever would. How’s school going?”

Cassie shrugged. “It’s going okay.” But at one time or another, she’d said the same about secretarial school, medical technology school and the real estate licensing program she’d attended. She’d never stuck with any of them for very long.

In fact, she’d stayed with Bob longer than any attempt at a career. It had seemed easier somehow to hang on to a sure thing than to risk being alone again. But would being alone be so much worse than being ignored?

“If you really want to fix things between you two, it sounds like you need to do something to heat things up a little,” Jill said.

Cassie replaced the dome on the donut plate. “Yeah, but what can I do?”

Jill traced a finger around the rim of her cup. “How about a little seduction? Remind him of what he’s been missing.”

“What—?” The word was cut off by the door bells again. Couldn’t people go somewhere else to get their coffee this morning?

Her annoyance vanished, however, when she recognized this particular customer. Guy Walters turned feminine heads wherever he went, and in the years she’d known him her reaction had progressed from heart fluttering to an all-out cardiac drum solo. Maybe it was the way his dark brown hair fell across his forehead. Or the way his laser-blue eyes looked at people, as if they really mattered. Maybe it was his broad-shouldered, narrow-hipped body, honed to masculine perfection by hiking, biking, climbing, skiing and every other outdoor activity yet invented. Or maybe it was that when Guy spoke, Cassie felt as warm and wonderful as if she’d just downed a cup of Godiva hot chocolate with extra cream.

“Good morning, Guy.” She slid off her stool and hurried to take his order. Not that she needed to ask what he wanted. Every Tuesday and Thursday he came in for a breve mocha and a sausage roll on his way to work at Mountain Outfitters, the business he had founded and made into a regional success. She knew he wore CK One cologne, that the scar underneath his chin was from a rock-climbing accident when he was in high school and that half the women in Boulder had been in love with him at one time or another.

“Hi, Cassie.” He plucked a sausage roll from the glass jar on the counter. “Grande breve mocha.” Cassie waited for his smile, which always left her a little breathless, but this morning the smile never came. What looked like an invitation on cream-colored paper with black engraving claimed his attention.

“Somebody graduating or getting married?” she asked as she prepared his coffee.

“What?” He looked up from studying the expensive-looking card. “Oh, it’s a wedding invitation. From an old friend.”

Judging by the mournful expression on Guy’s face, she would have guessed it was a summons to a funeral. He tucked the invitation into the pocket of his leather jacket and picked up a flyer on the counter and began reading it. So much for a memorable conversation, Cassie thought. I might as well be invisible. Let’s face it. I’m ordinary, and Guy Walters is not.

At Boulder High School, Guy had been part of a group of six upperclassmen who’d called themselves the Boulder Bandidos. They were behind every outrageous prank, from filling the science supply closet with two thousand Ping-Pong balls to attaching a pair of moose antlers to the front of Principle Harrington’s Volvo. They were the first to take any dare, the first to try any new thing, from snowboarding to ice climbing.

Cassie had been three years younger, in the same class as Guy’s sister Amy. She’d admired him from afar, following his exploits in the school paper and later, when he’d gone to the University of Colorado, keeping up with him through Amy or other friends.

She slid the cup of coffee across the counter and he paid, adding his change to her tip jar. “Thanks,” she said, though she doubted he heard her. Head bent, he pushed open the door, bells chiming in his wake.

Jill came to stand behind her. “Why don’t you ditch Boring Bob and go after a man like Guy?”

“As if he’d have anything to do with me.” She picked up the carton of half-and-half and carried it to the refrigerator.

“Why not? You two have known each other a long time.”

“I used to be friends with his sister. Years ago. Even back then, he hardly noticed me. And you saw how much attention he paid to me just now.”

“You shouldn’t sell yourself short,” Jill said. “I’ll bet Guy would pay a lot of the right kind of attention if you gave him a little encouragement.”

She sighed. Guy was her fantasy man. An impossible dream. She had to deal with real life, and for now, that meant Bob. She’d invested the past two years of her life in Bob. He was the man her mother thought she should marry. After all, he was good-looking and financially secure. So why hadn’t that been enough for her lately? “How do you think I can get things back on track with me and Bob?”

Jill shrugged. “Show him what he’s been missing by neglecting you. Seduce him.”

“Seduce him?” Saying the word sent a shiver up her spine. It sounded so wild…so daring. “How?”

“I don’t know.” Jill waved her hand. “The usual. Sexy lingerie. Champagne. Why don’t the two of you go away for the weekend? Some place romantic.”

Cassie sagged against the counter and shook her head. “Can’t. Bob’s going up to Aspen Creek to work this weekend.”

Jill made a face. “What kind of work is an accountant going to do at a ski resort?”

“He’s rented a condo up there for the weekend. Said it was the only way he could catch up on all his paperwork.” Cassie opened the dishwasher and began unloading coffee mugs. “He’s been working really hard lately. I think he’s bucking for a promotion.”

“All work and no play are going to make that dull boy even duller.” Jill began stacking the clean mugs on the shelves above the espresso machine. “Why don’t you surprise him? Go up to the condo and convince him to take a break from the paperwork and work on what’s left of your relationship.”

“Maybe…” The idea sounded good, but was she brave enough to follow through with it? Could she seduce a man? Was this what she and Bob needed to set things right between them?

Even if the weekend was a bust, at least she’d know she’d tried. One way or another, she was bound to be better off come Monday. “All right. I’ll do it.” A shiver of excitement ran through her. Time to prove to Bob, and to herself, that she wasn’t boring, that she could do something she set her mind to do. If she didn’t, she might as well resign herself to spending the rest of her life as the invisible woman.




2


CASSIE WAS FAIRLY CERTAIN she wasn’t crazy. Desperate, maybe, but not insane. “Tell me again that this is a good idea,” she said as she and Jill pulled into the parking lot at Aspen Creek Resort two days later.

“Most men would be delighted if the woman they loved surprised them with a planned seduction,” Jill said. “Although, I wouldn’t say Bob is like most men. In fact, I’m a little surprised you’re doing this.”

Cassie stared at her. “But you’re the one who suggested it.”

Jill frowned. “Well, yeah. But I never thought you’d do it.” She glanced up toward the lodge. “Are you sure Bob’s worth it?”

“Of course he is,” Cassie said, without much conviction. Bob had been acting so differently toward her lately, she couldn’t be sure about anything. Except that she owed it to herself to try one last time to make things work between them. She opened the door and climbed out of the car.

“You know, you could find someone better.” Jill looked at her over the top of the car. “Someone who would really appreciate your efforts.”

“You mean, seduce a complete stranger?” Cassie pulled on her gloves and zipped her jacket against the biting cold.

“No. But there are probably a lot of men who’d be interested in you if you’d give them a chance.”

“Name one.”

“Guy Walters.”

Cassie laughed. “Guy Walters doesn’t know I’m alive.”

“Don’t be so sure about that. I’ve seen him watching you.”

A shiver danced through her at the thought. “You lie.”

“Trust me. I know a lot about men and I think Guy’s really interested in you. And he’d be a lot better for you than Bob.”

Sure. As if Guy Walters didn’t already have half the women in town after him. An ordinary woman didn’t have a chance. She shrugged. “Bob’s who I’m stuck with now, so I’m going to make the best of it.” Even to her own ears, she didn’t sound enthusiastic.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to wait around, in case things don’t work out?” Jill followed her around to the trunk. Fresh snow crunched under their boots and a gust of wind blew more snow down onto them from the trees.

“You don’t have to wait. I’ll be fine.” Besides, if she knew Jill was still here, she might chicken out before she ever got to Bob’s room. She hefted her backpack out of the trunk and checked its contents: bottled water, energy bars, champagne, strawberries, scented candles, some extra clothes and a change of underwear.

“What have you got in there?” Jill tried to peer over her shoulder, but Cassie quickly zipped up the pack.

“Don’t forget these, Miss Girl Scout.” Jill reached into the trunk and tossed her the box of condoms that must have slipped from the pack.

Cassie blushed and shoved the box into the pack’s outside pocket. “Bob always forgets,” she mumbled.

“He doesn’t forget. He just knows he doesn’t have to be prepared because you always are.” Jill stepped back as Cassie closed the trunk. “I don’t know why you’re going to so much trouble for him.”

She shouldered the pack and adjusted the straps. “You said it yourself. I can’t let things go on the way they have been. After this weekend, Bob won’t take me for granted anymore.”

Jill squinted up at the gray sky. “It looks like it might storm. I don’t like the idea of leaving you up here all alone.”

“I won’t be alone. Bob’s here. Somewhere.” She turned to study the log chalet at the base of the ski slopes. Good thing Aspen Creek was a small resort, with only this one building of condos. She’d never have found Bob at some big place like Vail or Copper Mountain.

“I still say what kind of guy goes to a ski resort to spend the weekend working?”

Cassie hugged her arms around herself and stamped her feet as a blast of icy wind gusted across the road. “Bob’s been really wrapped up in his job lately. This weekend will be a good chance for us to talk about our relationship.”

“From the looks of that pack, you don’t intend to spend much time talking.”

Cassie’s cheeks burned. So maybe talk wasn’t all she had in mind. Was there anything wrong with a woman surprising her longtime boyfriend with a little seduction? Somebody had to do something before whatever they’d once had between them died of neglect. “This was your idea, remember? And I thought it would be good to try something different.”

“This is different, all right. It’s not like you at all.”

Cassie knew what that meant. It wasn’t like quiet, dependable, conventional Cassie to take off for a wild weekend fling. “Maybe this is like me,” she said. “The real me.”

Jill didn’t look any less worried. “Just be careful.” She gave Cassie a quick hug. “Call me if you need anything.”

Cassie nodded. “I will. And thanks.”

“Call me Monday, anyway.” Jill opened the driver’s-side car door. “I want a full report.”

Cassie laughed and started up the road toward the lodge. At the top of the hill, she turned to wave at Jill, then took a deep breath and headed off for what was going to be either the greatest thrill of her life, or the biggest embarrassment.

Skiers crowded into the lodge office, some fresh from the slopes, clomping across the carpet in snow-dusted ski boots, others gathered around a massive stone fireplace, enjoying hot toddies or cold beers. A picture window behind the registration desk showed fresh snow falling on the groomed slopes, a line of skiers at the lift waiting for another run down the mountain.

Cassie stood in line at the front desk behind an older couple in matching sweatshirts that bore the legend, We’re Spending Our Children’s Inheritance. Would she and Bob ever be like that, so close after years together that they were practically twins? She frowned. Somehow, she couldn’t picture it.

She shifted, trying to surreptitiously adjust the teddy she wore beneath her sweater and leggings. The black silk lingerie, cut up to here and down to there was a far cry from her usual plain-Jane underwear. She felt supersexy wearing it.

“Are you telling me there’s not one single room available in the entire resort?” The voice of the older man in front of her rose over the murmur of conversation in the lobby.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Kates, but we’re booked solid. We don’t have any rooms available until next Wednesday.”

“Come along, dear. I’m sure we can find a room in Winter Park.” The woman tugged at her husband’s arm. “Next time we’ll call ahead.”

“I guess we’d better,” the husband grumbled, turning away from the desk. “I want to get settled for the night before that storm blows in.”

“Yes, Miss, can I help you?”

Cassie stepped up to the desk. “I believe Bob Hamilton is registered here?” She put on her best “trust me, I’m an honest person” smile and proceeded to lie. “He’s expecting me.”

The clerk punched the keys of a computer. “Oh, yes, Ms. Patterson. He mentioned you would be arriving today.”

The smile remained frozen on Cassie’s face, mainly because she was too stunned to move. “Ms. P-Patterson?”

“Yes.” The clerk looked up from the computer. “You are Mary Ann Patterson, aren’t you?”

“Yes. Of course.” What was another lie when she was in this so deep already?

“Suite 418.” The clerk handed her a key and slid a computer printout toward her. “If you’ll sign here.”

She scrawled something she hoped was unintelligible and picked up the key. Maybe there’d been some mistake. Maybe they’d gotten the name wrong. Maybe there were two Bob Hamiltons here this weekend.

Right. And maybe she’d win the lottery next week and wake up four inches taller and five pounds lighter.

She took the stairs up to the fourth floor two at a time, heart pounding from more than exertion. If she was going to chicken out, now was the time to do it. She could find a phone, call Jill to come pick her up and Bob would never know.

Nothing would be any different between them and she’d either go on being “good old Cassie” or she’d go berserk one day and strangle him with his own dry cleaning.

No. She straightened and settled the pack more firmly on her shoulders. She wasn’t going to quit this time.

Suite 418 was at the end of a carpeted hallway. She slowed her steps, trying to remember what she’d planned to say, but all she could come up with was who the hell is Mary Ann Patterson?

A petite brunette emerged from the elevator in front of her. She wore high-heeled black leather boots and brown suede leggings that clung to her thighs like a second skin. Her fisherman’s sweater looked expensive and her perfectly styled hair could only have come from a high-class salon. She was the kind of woman who had never in her life been in danger of being invisible.

Cassie hung back, wanting this stranger to be safely in her room before she confronted Bob. The woman strode down the hall, a tapestry flight bag wheeling behind her. The farther down the hall she walked, the tighter the knot in Cassie’s stomach grew. By the time the woman knocked on the door of 418, Cassie wasn’t even surprised.

“Sweetie, so glad you made it ahead of the storm!” Bob’s voice echoed down the hallway as the door opened. Cassie ducked behind a potted palm, peeking through the fronds to watch Bob envelop Puss in Boots in a hug. She didn’t even bother trying to convince herself that the woman might, after all, be a business associate, since one of Bob’s hands was firmly caressing the woman’s suede-clad behind.

She wasn’t sure if the lump in her throat was a stifled scream or incipient nausea. Rather than let loose with either in the hallway, she bolted back along the corridor and down the stairs. What a mess she was in now—stranded with a snowstorm on its way, a bottle of champagne rapidly warming in her backpack, a French lace teddy creeping up her butt and no room at the inn.

GUY WALTERS unlocked the door to the family condo and dumped his bags in the entryway. He’d spent so many weekends here over the years that the rooms were as familiar to him as his own apartment. His dad had taught him to ski here at Aspen Creek. His mother had taken him ice skating on the resort’s pond. A weekend here always meant sleigh rides, marshmallow roasts and hot chocolate. Even after he’d moved out on his own, this was a place where he could always find happy memories and a warm welcome.

Today, the condo was cold and the air smelled of dust and disinfectant. The furniture looked old and worn. The rooms were too empty, reminding him that he was past the age when he’d expected to be coming to Aspen Creek with a wife and children of his own in tow.

He frowned and went to turn up the thermostat. Back in Boulder, getting away for the weekend had seemed like a good idea. He’d planned to ski a little, catch up on his reading, grab a few drinks in the bar and kick back and relax. Now that he was here, though, with the snow coming down and long days in this empty apartment stretching out ahead of him, the idea felt like a recipe for depression.

He shrugged off his jacket and started to toss it onto the sofa, but the crackle of paper distracted him. He removed the envelope from the pocket and tapped it against his palm. So Dave was getting married. The last of the Boulder Bandidos, besides Guy himself, to take the plunge. Steve and Victor were already fathers and last he’d heard, Jake’s wife was expecting. They’d traded nights on the town for Happy Meals and evenings around the VCR, watching The Lion King video for the twenty-seventh time.

He sank down onto the sofa, still staring at the envelope. The scary thing was, that kind of cozy evening at home was starting to sound not so bad to him. Better than a weekend at a snowed-in resort, with no one to share it with.

He tossed the invitation onto the coffee table and shoved his hands into his pockets. If he was going to spend the weekend moping, he’d be better off heading back to Boulder now. He had plenty of work to occupy him at the store and in town he could probably find a couple of pals to hang out with tomorrow night.

He walked to the window and pulled back the long drapes. The snow was coming down so hard he could barely make out the ski slopes beyond. They’d already shut down the lift, not a good sign. Chances of getting home in this whiteout seemed pretty slim.

He fetched the sack of groceries from the entryway and began unloading the contents into the refrigerator. While he worked, he popped open a beer and took a long drink. Maybe being stranded here alone this weekend wouldn’t be so bad. It would give him a chance to take a good look at his life and where he was headed.

He closed the fridge and sagged back against the door, frowning. The problem was, he didn’t have to look at his life very closely to know he didn’t particularly like what he saw.

CASSIE SANK INTO an empty chair by the lobby fireplace and tried to think what to do next. She could call Jill, but her friend hadn’t even had a chance to make it home yet. Besides, from the looks of the snow falling outside, the roads wouldn’t stay open much longer. She was stuck here for the night. While she was trying to sleep in this uncomfortable chair, Bob and “Sweetie” would be warming the sheets upstairs. The thought made her want to gag.

She stared into the fire, as if she might find Bob’s face smoldering among the flames. She’d told herself coming up here that this weekend was her last chance to save their relationship, and it turned out there was nothing left to save.

Looking back, she could see the signs—his sudden interest in work, his unexplained absences and most of all, the fact that their sex life had been all but nonexistent for the past six months. She’d known something was wrong, but she’d refused to admit it. She didn’t want to make waves. Didn’t want a scene.

She gulped down the knot in her throat. Those days were over. No more meek little mouse. She was going to make one hell of a scene when she saw him again.

“Say, Jack, you got any matches? I went to light a fire and couldn’t find any anywhere.”

That deep, velvety voice sent a tremor through Cassie’s middle. At first, she thought despair had driven her to some kind of auditory hallucination. After all, what would Guy Walters be doing up here? But when she turned to look around the side of the chair, her fantasy man was standing at the front desk, accepting a folder of matches from the clerk.

“Thanks,” Guy said. “Want to get a beer or something after you get off work?”

The clerk grinned. “Thanks, Guy, but I can’t. My fiancée’s cooking dinner for me.”

“Fiancée? When did this happen?”

The clerk’s grin broadened. “About a month ago. The wedding’s set for June.”

“Congratulations.”

“Thanks, Guy. You’ll have to meet Cheryl. She’s a great gal.”

“I’ll bet she is. Well, thanks for the matches.” He turned and walked away from the desk. Cassie leaned over farther, watching him disappear down the hall. So Guy Walters was here. Was he alone? He hadn’t mentioned anyone else when he’d asked the clerk to have a beer with him. Maybe it was wishful thinking on her part, but she’d have sworn Guy sounded…lonely.

She grabbed up her backpack and followed Guy down the hall and up the stairs. She told herself she only wanted to see where he was staying, but already the kernel of an idea was growing in her mind. Why not go after a man like Guy? Jill had said.

He emerged from the stairwell on the fourth floor. She followed and watched him disappear into a room at the opposite end of the hall from Bob’s. She glanced over her shoulder, toward suite 418. What were Bob and “Sweetie” up to now? she wondered. As if she couldn’t guess.

As she stared at the brass-plated numbers on the door, a new surge of anger filled her. She had half a mind to knock on that door and tell her so-called boyfriend exactly what she thought of him and his two-timing ways. She clenched her hands into fists and took a step toward his door. He thought he was so clever, pulling this scam on dumb old Cassie, but she’d show him—

Just then, the door swung open. “I’m going to get some ice,” Bob’s voice drifted to her. Clad in boxer shorts and a T-shirt, he stepped into the hall, ice bucket in hand.

Cassie made a strangled noise as Bob turned toward her. “Cassie!” he gasped. “What are you doing here?”

Her first instinct was to turn and run, but some semblance of self-respect asserted itself and she stood her ground. “I came here to tell you what a worthless creep you are.” She drew in a shaky breath. “And that I never want to see you again.”

She turned away, but he lunged forward and caught her arm. “Aw, Cassie, what are you talking about?” He gave her an everything’s-going-to-be-all-right smile and patted her shoulder—as if she were a four-year-old, or a particularly troublesome puppy. “Why don’t we go somewhere and talk about what’s gotten you so upset?”

She looked down, wondering if it would be worth the effort to knee him where it would hurt the most. Her eyes narrowed. “Since when do you wear black silk boxers?” She glared at him. “You never wore silk boxers for me.”

“Now, hon, did you ever ask me?” He tried to put his arm around her, but she jerked away.

“Don’t touch me!”

“There’s no need to shout.” He frowned and glanced over his shoulder. “Someone might hear.” “Oh, I don’t mind.” She cupped her hands to her mouth and shouted. “Come on out, Mary Ann, and watch your new boyfriend act like the two-timing jerk he is!”

Bob’s smile collapsed at the mention of his partner in crime. “Now, Cassie!” He made shushing motions toward her. “I really think you’re being unreasonable.”

“Unreasonable.” She took a deep breath, rage making her feel two inches taller and ten times stronger. “I’ll tell you what’s unreasonable. Unreasonable is me waiting on you hand and foot for two years and expecting to get anything out of it. Unreasonable is me trying to be the woman you wanted instead of the woman I am.”

“Why don’t you go on back home and we’ll talk about it next week?” A feeble imitation of a smile returned to his lips. “I’ll take you to dinner. How about that?”

“You’re an idiot, Bob. Goodbye.” Damn, it felt good to say that! And it felt even better to see the horror on his face when he realized she was serious. She gave him her own patronizing smile and started to turn away, when his door opened again.

“Who are you talking to?” The brunette she’d seen earlier peered out of the room, one naked shoulder showing in the doorway. “I thought I heard shouting.”

“Uh, no one, darling.” Bob rushed to the door and began pushing Mary Ann back inside. “Just some crazy woman.”

“That’s right, some crazy woman.” Cassie broadened her smile and fluttered her fingers at the other woman. “A crazy woman who’s finally regained her sanity.”

With one last fearful look in her direction, Bob succeeded in forcing Mary Ann back into the room and shut the door firmly behind them. Cassie began to laugh, happiness bubbling up inside her like champagne. God, that felt good! And to think she’d wasted all these years keeping her mouth shut when things didn’t turn out the way she wanted.

She turned and walked down the hall again, intending to head downstairs, but instead found herself drawn to the opposite end of the hall, to the condo where Guy Walters was staying. Guy Walters, her dream man. Here alone for the weekend. And so was she.

She stopped in front of the door to Guy’s suite. Why not go after Guy? After all, hadn’t she said she wasn’t going to hold back anymore? Given the choice between spending the night in a chair in the lobby, and spending the night with the man of her dreams, what woman wouldn’t pick Guy?

Here was an opportunity to turn all her fantasies into reality. If she passed up this chance, she might as well put her hair up in a bun, let the hems down on all her skirts and resign herself to going through the rest of her life in a painfully proper stupor.

Before reason could overwhelm desire, she stepped forward and knocked on Guy’s door. As soon as her knuckles came in contact with the wood, a shiver of panic swept over her. She would have turned and fled, but her feet refused to listen to her brain and move. The door swung open and Guy stared down at her. “Hello?” he said.

She opened her mouth, but no sound came out. Her heart was beating somewhere in the vicinity of her throat, and all she could do was gape.




3


GUY LEANED TOWARD HER, his brow furrowed. “Cassie? Are you all right?”

“Um…I…uh…” Suddenly, she couldn’t think of a single coherent sentence. She stared up at him, into those warm brown eyes. He didn’t look angry or annoyed, just…concerned. As if…as if he might really care what she wanted. “Can I come in?” she blurted.

He opened the door wider. “Yeah. Sure.”

She slipped past him and went to stand in front of the fire that was beginning to blaze in the fireplace.

Guy shut the door and walked over to her. “You look upset. Are you in some kind of trouble?” He glanced over his shoulder. “I thought I heard shouting in the hall just now. Was that you?”

She hugged her arms across her stomach and stared at the floor, fighting sudden tears. “No, I’m not in trouble. At least not yet. And yes, that was me shouting.”

He looked at her warily. “Want to tell me what’s going on?”

She sighed. Maybe it would help to talk about it. That’s all. Just talk. “I was shouting at my boyfriend. Ex-boyfriend. Bob Hamilton. He said he was coming up here this weekend to work, so I thought I’d follow him up here and surprise him.” She frowned. “Instead, I’m the one who was surprised.” She buried her face in her hands. “I can’t believe I was so stupid I didn’t realize he was seeing someone else.”

She peeked through her fingers at him, steeling herself for a look of pity. Instead, he looked sympathetic and…interested? “You never struck me as stupid,” he said.

She lowered her hands. “I didn’t? I mean…I never thought you noticed.”

His smile could have melted icicles. “I noticed.”

The words set her heart to pounding and she had trouble catching her breath. Please don’t anybody pinch me, she thought. Any minute now, she’d wake up and this dream would be over. She slowly slid her hands from her face and risked looking at Guy full-on. He was still smiling at her, a heart-melting look that sent rational thought ducking for cover before a full-fledged assault of giddy fantasy and old-fashioned lust. Oh, God, what had she gotten herself into?

The new Cassie might be ready for this, but the parts of old Cassie that still hung around belonged to a coward. “Uh, I didn’t mean to barge in on you like this. I’ll go now and get out of your way.” She lunged toward the door.

Guy’s hand on her arm stopped her. “You don’t have to go. To tell you the truth, I was feeling kind of lonely before you showed up.”

So she’d been right. He was lonely. But how was that possible? The man had dozens of friends, hundreds even. He could have any woman he wanted. Maybe he was only being nice…. She squared her shoulders and mentally shook herself. What did it matter why he’d invited her to stay? He’d invited her. It’s what she’d wanted all along, wasn’t it?

She forced herself to meet his gaze and faked a confident smile. “I’d love to stay.”

He came closer. She would have moved back, but already the fire was in danger of singeing her legs. He reached for her and for one heart-stopping moment, she thought he might gather her into his arms and kiss her, as he had so many times in her fevered fantasies.

Instead, he took hold of the straps of her backpack. “Why don’t you take this off?”

She let him help her out of the pack while she tried to find her voice. The realization that she was here—alone—with the man of her dreams made it hard to breathe, much less talk. She grabbed hold of the fireplace mantel to steady herself.

“Can I get you something to drink?” he asked.

Drink. Right. Maybe a drink would help. “There’s some champagne in my bag.” No reason to let it go to waste.

She bent and fumbled for the backpack, but he was quicker. Unzipping the bag, he pulled out a pair of white silk panties and the bottle of champagne. “Nice,” he murmured.

Was he talking about the underwear or the wine? She grabbed the panties from him and stuffed them back into the pack. “Sorry.”

He grinned. “I’ll go get some glasses.” As he headed for the kitchen, she could have sworn he was whistling.

GUY SMILED TO HIMSELF as he hunted in the cupboard for glasses. Of all the crazy things to happen. Just when he’d been ready to give up on the weekend, cute little Cassie Carmichael showed up. Except she wasn’t so little anymore, a fact he’d noticed a while back at the coffee shop.

When he’d first walked into Java Jive a few months ago, he hadn’t even connected the curvy clerk behind the counter with his kid sister’s school friend. But as soon as she’d said his name and smiled, he’d remembered. What a difference a few years had made.

More than once since then, he’d thought of asking her out, but he wasn’t sure how his sister would feel about it. Amy and Cassie apparently weren’t friends anymore, so maybe there was bad blood there. Before he could find out, he’d heard Cassie was already involved with someone and he figured he’d missed his chance.

Now fate had literally delivered the lovely Ms. Carmichael to his door. He wasn’t about to blow a second chance to get to know Cassie better. Amy would have to understand.

He shook his head as he rinsed glasses. Funny, he’d thought of Cassie as the quiet, shy type. Obviously, he’d been wrong, judging by the contents of her pack and her plans to surprise her lowlife boyfriend.

By the time he returned with two glasses filled with champagne, she’d settled into a chair by the fire, arms wrapped around her knees. He handed her a glass of champagne and offered a toast. “Cheers.”

“Thanks for being so cool about this,” she said. “I was upset after seeing Bob with that woman and not thinking clearly, and there wasn’t another room available and I didn’t have anywhere to go—”

“It’s okay.” He settled onto the sofa, at the end nearest her. “It’s all right with me if you stay here.” It was more than all right, really. Suddenly his lonely weekend didn’t look so lonely.

She glanced toward the window. Snow was coming down in great drifts. “I guess none of us will be going anywhere for a while.” She sank back into the chair and stared at the bubbles in the champagne. “We’re trapped here.”

“Hey, don’t make it sound so terrible.” He leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “I know I’m not Bob, but I’m not such a bad fellow.” If you asked him, Bob was a first-class creep to skip out on a woman like this one. The thought made his jaw tighten in anger. How often did you come across such sweetness and sensuality wrapped up in one neat little package? “I don’t mind sharing the condo with you until the storm passes.” Which, with any luck, wouldn’t be for a couple of days.

She looked around the room, perhaps taking in how small it was. Intimate. “I feel like I’m intruding. I mean, you obviously came up here to be alone.” She flushed. “Or maybe you’re expecting someone.”

He shook his head. “I’m not expecting anyone.” He shrugged. “It was sort of a last-minute thing. I had some vacation coming and decided to take the weekend off. You know—read, think about things.” Even before he’d gotten the invitation from Dave, he’d been restless. Like something was missing from his life. Or somebody…

She ran her finger around the rim of her glass and looked glum. “I guess I’ve got a few things to think about now, too.”

“You mean Bob.”

She nodded. “I can’t believe I was so blind. So trusting. Good old Cassie.” She gripped the arms of the chair, white-knuckled, jaw clenched. “He must have been laughing behind my back the whole time.”

She glanced at Guy. “Jill calls him ‘Boring Bob’ sometimes. Never one to get excited about anything. Always so predictable. Boy, did we have him wrong.”

“We all make mistakes.” It was one of those platitudes that don’t really mean anything, but it was all he could think of at the moment. He wanted to take away her hurt, to see her smile again. She had such a sweet smile. There was a better coffee shop closer to his office, but Cassie’s smile always drew him back to Java Jive.

“I wanted to surprise him this weekend,” she said, green eyes snapping with rage. “I thought I’d shake him up, put a little life back in our relationship. Hah!”

Guy braced himself. Any minute now, the waterworks would start. He felt in his pocket for a handkerchief, just in case.

Cassie Carmichael didn’t burst into tears. Instead, she shot up out of the chair and began to pace. “When I think of all I did for that man! Oh, he owes me. Big time.”

Guy followed her with his eyes as she stalked back and forth in front of the fireplace. Cheeks flushed, hair tumbling about her shoulders, she was a woman overcome by passion, though not of the romantic kind. You didn’t see that kind of emotion every day. Most people sleepwalked through life, not allowing themselves to feel much of anything, but not Cassie. Here was a woman who wasn’t asleep.

He was getting turned on watching her, had in fact been turned on since the moment she’d showed up at his door. He could still recall the feel of those silky panties between his fingers. The thought unnerved him. She had been his kid sister’s friend. And yet, Cassie was practically a stranger to him. He had no business lusting after her. He shifted in his seat, hoping she wouldn’t notice how aroused he was becoming.

“Listen to me, going on like this.” She stopped in front of him. “Not only do I intrude on your weekend, I start dumping all my personal problems on you.”

“No, that’s all right.” He stood and reached for the champagne bottle. “Let me refill your glass. If you’re hungry, I’ve got some cheese and stuff.”

“Yeah, I guess I am a little hungry at that. There are some strawberries in my pack.”

She started toward the pack, but he intercepted her. “I’ll get them. After all, you’re my guest.”

She smiled, apparently seeing the humor in the remark. It was a strange situation, but now that she was here, he was glad of it. Humming to himself, he retrieved the cheese, summer sausage and crackers from the grocery bags, then went to get the strawberries from her pack.

He didn’t find them right away. First, he took out two scented candles, a bottle of cinnamon-flavored massage oil and the pair of almost-sheer white panties. The silk slid through his fingers, sending his temperature soaring.

He glanced over his shoulder to see if she’d noticed, but she was curled up in the chair again, staring into the fire.

All right, she’d just had her heart broken. It wouldn’t be exactly fair for him to hit on her now, would it? No matter how much he was tempted. Reluctantly, he returned the panties to the pack and dug out the strawberries. Better to keep things pleasant and platonic, get to know each other before they took things any further.

Still, it would take everything he had to keep his hands to himself this weekend. He’d have to find something safe for them to do. Something that would keep his mind off of sex.

CASSIE LOOKED OVER her shoulder to where Guy stood in the condo’s kitchen alcove. He hummed to himself as he sliced cheese, moving with fluid grace. Dressed in faded jeans and a flannel shirt, he could have been a model in a Ralph Lauren ad—tousled hair, broad shoulders, flat stomach and the most perfect male rear end in existence.

She pinched herself. Yep, she was awake, all right, though Guy had starred in more than one erotic dream in the years since she’d first met him.

She turned back toward the fire, hoping he wouldn’t see her infatuation written on her face. It was one thing to fantasize about a man from a distance, quite another to be face-to-face with that man at a small, secluded resort.

Her heart thudded and she had to set aside her empty glass for fear of dropping it from her suddenly shaking hands. It didn’t matter how small this condo was or how alone they were. Men like Guy weren’t interested in quiet women like her. Her fantasies would have to stay fantasies, and that was all there was to it.

“Looks like you need a refill.” He returned with the champagne bottle and a plate of cheese, fruit and crackers. He refilled her glass and she thought he’d sit back down on the sofa. Instead, he settled on the floor at her feet. “Is the fire warm enough for you?” he asked.

She opened her mouth to answer, but no sound emerged. Warm was not the word for what she was feeling. The closer he got, the higher her temperature rose.

Unfortunately, the feeling obviously wasn’t mutual. “It’s still a little chilly in here,” he said. “I’ll put some more wood on the fire.”

He stood and fetched a log from a washtub on the hearth for the fire, then sat back at her feet and offered the plate of food. She bit into a strawberry and sipped more champagne. The bubbly was making her light-headed. Or was that Guy?

She pulled her gaze away from him, toward the table beside her and a picture resting there. Six young men, dressed for the slopes, posed with a variety of snowboards and skis, clowning for the camera. “The Boulder Bandidos,” Guy said, looking over her shoulder. “Up to their usual mischief.”

“I recognize you.” She put her finger on a thinner, gawkier version of the man beside her. Even then, he’d been handsome, though still more boy than man. “And the others look familiar from school, but I’m not sure I remember all their names.”

“That’s Steve.” He pointed to the tallest of the group. “He’s married now, with two kids. He works for one of the big eight accounting firms. That’s Jake next to him. His wife is expecting their first baby any day now. The dude making the peace sign is Victor. He has his own business, doing something with the Internet. He and his wife, Daria, live in Denver with their little girl. The short, stocky guy is Paul. He married a girl named Sheila who already had two kids and they run a restaurant in Colorado Springs. And that’s Dave.” He pointed to a blonde standing next to him. “He’s getting married in a couple of months to a woman from Boulder.”

“Was that the invitation you were looking at the other morning?”

He nodded. “That’s the one.”

“You didn’t seem too happy about it.”

“It showed that much, huh?”

She smiled into her champagne glass, but didn’t answer. Most people wouldn’t have seen it, but she’d noticed everything about Guy for years.

“The invitation caught me off guard. I’d figured Dave was a confirmed bachelor.”

“Like you?” She held her breath, waiting for his answer.

He shook his head. “I’m not a confirmed anything. I just haven’t found the right woman.” He turned away, to stir up the fire.

The words sent a quiver through her stomach. Guy had been her fantasy man all these years, her unobtainable ideal. Did he have a fantasy woman in his mind? And was she even a little bit like her? “Are you looking?”

She wanted to take the words back as soon as she spoke. But she wanted to know the answer more.

He didn’t say anything right away, and when she mustered up the courage to look at him, she was startled to find him watching her. His gaze caught and held her, going past the surface to see deeper. Her face heated and she fought the urge to look away. What was Guy looking for in her? Did she dare hope he would find it?

“Let’s say I’m open to possibilities.” He drained his glass and set it aside. “When I find the right woman, I’d like to settle down, have a family. What about you? What do you want to do with your life?”

Ugh. The million-dollar question and she didn’t even have a ten-dollar answer. She forced a laugh, as if this was all such a fun game, instead of a depressing dilemma. “I haven’t decided yet. There are so many possibilities.”

“I think Amy mentioned you quit school.”

She ran her fingers up and down the stem of her champagne glass. Quit was such as ugly word. “When I changed my major I needed a bunch of new courses for a degree. It would have meant an extra year of college. I was running out of money, so I left and enrolled in secretarial school instead.”

His puzzled frown told her he was trying to make the connection between secretarial school and Java Jive, so she rushed forward with the rest of her explanation. He might as well know the worst. “I quit that, too. Then I tried a few other things. The job at the coffee shop isn’t great, I know, but it pays the bills while I’m in massage therapy school.”

“Now that’s interesting work.”

She leaned toward him, studying his face for any hint of condescension. Either Guy was a great actor, or he really was interested. “Uh, yeah. I think it’s interesting,” she said. At least she’d stuck with it longer than anything to date. “I was thinking of going into sports medicine. I’d like to do something to help people.”

He smiled, his eyes still fixed on her. Why was he staring at her? She ran her tongue over her teeth, checking for strawberry seeds, and fought the urge to comb her fingers through her hair. Enough about her. She wanted to know about him. “So…I hear your store is a real success.”

He nodded. “Yeah. I can’t believe how fast it’s taken off. I think I really found a niche and filled it.”

She glanced at the photo of the Boulder Bandidos again. “It probably helped that you’re such an outdoorsman yourself. You know the kinds of equipment hikers and climbers and fishermen want.”

“Don’t forget skiing.” He leaned toward her again, close enough she could make out the shadow of his beard beneath the skin along his jaw. “I remember you were pretty hot stuff on skis when you and Amy were on the racing team at CU.”

His praise, not to mention his choice of words, sent a rush of warmth through her. Guy Walters thought she was hot stuff.

“Do you still race?”

The question banished the warm fuzzy feeling like a bucket of cold water on a campfire. “No.” She picked at a thread on her sweater. “I gave it up a couple of years ago.”

“Too bad. You were really good. Why’d you quit?”

There was that word again. She looked away. Why had she given up something she’d loved so much? “I guess I got interested in other things.” It sounded lame, but then, excuses usually were.

“I know Amy really misses it.”

The words jerked her from the brink of her self-pity pool. Amy Walters had torn ligaments in both knees after a spectacular fall during a race shortly before Cassie left the team. “I’m sorry,” she said softly, remembering how her friend had laughed with joy as she flew down the slopes. Cassie had always admired Amy’s daring, and her sense of humor. She had a little green troll doll she pinned to her jumpsuit for good luck. She loved to play practical jokes of people, and had once filled an opponent’s ski boots with shaving cream. “Is she able to ski at all anymore?”

“She probably could, but when the trainer told her she’d never race again, she hung up her skis for good. I guess it hurt too much to give up her dream.”

At least Amy had a dream, Cassie thought. All she had were fleeting interests and her fantasies of Guy. She turned to look out the window facing the slopes. If someone had hung a sheet behind the glass, it wouldn’t have looked much whiter than it did now. No one was going anywhere for a while, why should they? They had food and drink and a nice warm fire. It was the perfect romantic setting.

With the wrong man.

She popped the last strawberry into her mouth and bit down hard. As if Bob was the right man.

“This is good champagne.” Guy tipped the last of it into her glass. “I’m glad we didn’t let it go to waste.”

He turned back to the fire and she risked looking at him again. Maybe the champagne wasn’t the only thing that shouldn’t go to waste this weekend.

He turned around and caught her staring at him. “Is something wrong?” he asked.

“No. Nothing’s wrong.” She suppressed a smile. In fact, everything was suddenly very right. For once in her life, she was going to follow through on a fantasy and make it reality. She was going to seduce Guy Walters, or die trying.




4


“I KNOW WHAT YOU NEED,” Guy said.

You do? Cassie blinked. Had he somehow read her mind? Did he know she was thinking of making love to him in front of that fire? They didn’t have a bearskin rug, but what the heck, a blanket would do.

“You need something to take your mind off things.” He stood. “Why don’t we play a game?”

“A game?” Her voice quavered. “What kind of game?” Strip poker? Spin the bottle? Doctor?

He went over to the cabinet in the corner and opened it. “How about Scrabble?”

Scrabble? She stared at him, stunned. She was going to spend the weekend with a Greek god and he wanted to play Scrabble?

He laid out the board on the coffee table between them and began turning over tiles. She sat back, arms crossed over her chest. Scrabble. What could be more tame? More conventional. He wouldn’t have invited Sarah Michelle Gellar or Catherine Zeta-Jones or some other sex goddess to play Scrabble, would he? But good old Cassie Carmichael was obviously a Scrabble kind of gal. The more she thought about it, the madder she became.

He dealt seven tiles to each of them and studied his own selection, handsome brow furrowed in thought. Had she been horribly wrong? Was sex god Guy Walters even duller than Boring Bob? She glanced at her tiles. K, S, T, C, L, M, I.

“You go first,” Guy said.

My, wasn’t he a gentleman? But she didn’t want him to be a gentleman. And for once, she wasn’t interested in being a lady. She idly rearranged the letters on her tray until a word formed. Ah, now here was something. Grinning, she laid the letters out on the board. L…I…C…K…S.

“Licks?” Guy looked up at her.

Making sure he got the idea, she ran her tongue over her lips. “That’s twenty-two points.”

SHE HAD THE MOST luscious mouth…. Guy quickly looked away and shifted in his seat, trying to get comfortable. How could someone who looked like an elementary school teacher—a very sexy elementary school teacher—be so seductive? If she kept this up, he’d have to go out in the snow to cool off.

He concentrated on the letter tiles in front of him. Selecting B, O and I, he arranged them over the L she’d played. “Boil,” he announced.

“It is a little warm in here, isn’t it?” Before he could offer to open a window or tamp down the fire, she stripped off her sweater, revealing some black satin confection obviously designed more to enhance than hide. He had an unimpeded view of smooth, ivory shoulders and the tops of full breasts. His mouth went dry and he jerked his gaze away, but his eyes didn’t want to obey and before he knew it he was looking at her again. He could clearly see her erect nipples pressed against the satiny material. He curled his fingers against his palm, fighting the urge to touch her.

“It’s your turn,” she said softly.

He looked down at the board. Without him even realizing it, she’d added a new word. “Naked,” he read. He swallowed, but his mouth was too dry for it to do much good. Anxious now to get this game over with as quickly as possible, he selected two letters and spelled the word nip.

Her eyes—they were a really pretty shade of green, he noticed—sparkled with laughter. She studied her letters again, head tilted so that her hair fell back from her neck, revealing a section of creamy flesh under her jaw. He’d like to kiss her there, to feel her pulse throbbing against his lips….

She leaned forward to place her letters on the board, her breasts straining against the satin lingerie. Did she know how wild that was making him? He glanced up and met her gaze, drawing him toward her….

“You look a little warm yourself,” she murmured, and reached across the table to unfasten the top two buttons of his shirt. She moved slowly, her fingers brushing against his suddenly feverish skin. She was right. It was burning up in here.

Obviously, Scrabble had been a bad idea. If he had any hope of keeping his hands off her, he needed to do something that would get him away from her entirely.

“I’d better get some more wood for the fire.” He jumped up and headed for the door.

“Wait! We’re not finished with our game.” Cassie rose up on her knees, as if to follow him.

“I just remembered, they lock the wood room at dark.” He grabbed his coat from the closet and was out the door before she could talk him into staying.

What had he gotten himself into? He’d tried to do the right thing, helping out a friend who’d just been jilted by a jerk. The problem was, his own attraction to Cassie kept getting in the way of his honorable intentions. The last thing he wanted was for her to think he was the kind of man who’d take advantage of her distress.

At the bottom of the stairs he pushed through the door to the outside and headed for the woodpile at the edge of the trees. There were plenty of split logs in the wood room, which as far as he knew never closed, but he needed fresh air to clear his head and cool off his heated libido. One thing for certain—this was going to be a very long night.

CASSIE STARED after Guy’s retreating figure. So much for her career as a femme fatale. Could she help it if Scrabble wasn’t the most erotic game in history?

Sighing, she plucked her sweater from the chair and pulled it on. She didn’t have much experience at seduction, but she could have sworn Guy was really turned on for a minute there. What had happened to turn him off?

She went into the bathroom and studied her face in the mirror. Between the snow and the champagne and her fury at Bob, her makeup and hair were a little worse for wear, but she didn’t think she looked bad enough to drive a man out into the snow. No, something else had sent Guy running in the other direction.

She opened the medicine cabinet, hoping to find a bottle of aspirin. Champagne always gave her a headache. Why didn’t she ever remember that before it was too late?

A half-full bottle of ibuprofen sat next to a bottle of prescription cough syrup on the middle shelf. She read the name on the cough syrup, Amy Walters.

Did Guy’s sister have anything to do with his reluctance to take things any further with Cassie? Did he think making it with his kid sister’s friend was bad form?

Or did the fact that Cassie and Amy weren’t such good friends anymore put him off? She shook two ibuprofen into her hand and replaced the bottle in the cabinet. Maybe it didn’t have anything to do with Amy at all. Maybe Guy was simply a nice man who didn’t want to get involved with a woman who so obviously wasn’t his type.

Her reflection in the mirror wore a lopsided smile. It figured. The one time in her life she was ready to settle for no-commitment sex, she met a decent man who didn’t want to take advantage.

WHEN GUY RETURNED with an armload of freshly split logs, he found Cassie curled up on the sofa, eyes closed. He eased the wood into the washtub, then crept over to her. She’d put her sweater back on, and taken off her boots, revealing black socks embroidered with little pink bows. A lock of hair had fallen across her cheek and he resisted the urge to smooth it back into place.

Now that she was asleep, he felt at ease to watch her, to let his eyes linger on the soft curve of her cheek or the rounded shape of her hip. A few hours ago, he’d been working on a serious case of the blues, dreading a weekend by himself, half afraid he’d spend the rest of his life alone. Then this woman had knocked on his door and changed the way he thought about the weekend, maybe even the way he thought about the rest of his life.

He reached down and pulled an afghan over her. Cassie snuggled against the pillow. “Thanks,” she murmured.

“I didn’t mean to wake you,” he said.

“That’s all right.” She yawned and rolled over onto her back to look up at him. “I was lying here thinking, and I must have drifted off.”

He sat down on the edge of the sofa. “What were you thinking about?”

The fire crackled as a log settled, and outside the window the wind howled. Cassie closed her eyes and didn’t say anything.

“I did a lot of thinking while I was chopping wood, too,” he said. He rubbed his hands together, trying to keep from touching her.

Her eyes flew open. “Oh?”

“I was thinking about why I came up here this weekend.”

“Why is that?” Her voice was soft, breathy, like a caress.

“I was trying to figure out my life. What I wanted.” A thought popped into his head, like a neon sign glowing bright, that what he wanted was Cassie. He quickly pushed it aside. He hardly knew the woman. How could she be the answer to the restlessness that had plagued him?

She sat up and swung her feet to the floor. Her shoulder brushed his, but he didn’t move away. “I guess I came up here for pretty much the same reason,” she said.

Jealousy pricked at him, sharp and painful. He didn’t like remembering that she’d come here to be with another man.

As if reading his thoughts, she turned her head to look at him. “This weekend wasn’t really about Bob,” she said. “I didn’t want to admit it to myself, but I think I knew things were over between us.” She smoothed the afghan across her lap. “I told myself I was coming here to try to salvage our relationship, but I think I really wanted to prove to myself that I could do something daring. Something different.”

“You mean this isn’t how you usually spend your spare time?”

He purposely made the words teasing.

She looked away from him, at the fire. “When you first saw me at the coffee shop, what did you think?”

He smiled, remembering. “I thought my kid sister’s friend had certainly grown up.” He watched her out of the corner of his eye as he spoke. “I wanted to ask you out.”

She stared at him. “You didn’t.”

“Yeah, I did.” He laced his fingers together, wanting to reach for her but afraid she’d pull away. “I didn’t know what Amy would think of it and before I could ask her, I heard you were already involved with someone.”

Sadness shadowed her eyes. “Do you think Amy wouldn’t approve of you going out with me?”

He took her hand in his then, unable to stop himself any longer. “Do you?”

Cassie held herself still, not pulling away from him, but not moving toward him either. “We didn’t exactly part on good terms.”

He tried to remember when Amy and Cassie had ceased to be friends, but he couldn’t pin it down to a specific date. Cassie had stopped coming around and Amy had never mentioned her again. “What happened?”

She shrugged. “She didn’t approve of my quitting the team.”

“Was this after her accident?”

She nodded. “She was still in a wheelchair, after her surgery, but she came to team meetings and watched films and helped coach everybody.” She looked at him, eyes glistening. “It was so hard seeing her like that. I thought she’d understand when I told her I couldn’t race anymore.”

He squeezed her hand, fighting a knot in his own throat. He’d cried for his sister once, but it had been a long time ago. “But she didn’t.”

She hung her head. “No. She told me I was settling for being ordinary, when I could have been extraordinary.”

He cupped her chin and turned her head until their eyes met. “I think you’re pretty extraordinary.”

“No, I’m not. I’m a quiet, ordinary, even timid person. I’m the kind of person other people take for granted.” Her eyes darkened, her expression intense. “But sometimes, I feel like there’s so much more. Like there’s this other side of me trying to get out—a person who’s daring and exciting. A person no one would ever take for granted.” She frowned. “Does that make any sense?”

“Yeah. Yeah, it makes a lot of sense.” He squeezed her hand. “Maybe this other side of you just needs a little encouraging.”

“I don’t know how to do that.” The sadness in her voice tore at him.

He pulled back and looked at her intently. “Was there ever anything you really wanted to do in your life, but you never did it?”

She looked puzzled. “What do you mean?”

He thought a moment, trying to find the right words. “Something like…well, even when I was in high school, I wanted to own my own business. Something to do with adventure and the outdoors. I was still in college when I started going around to banks, trying to get financing for a store that would offer all sorts of outdoor gear. Everyone said I was crazy—I was too young, I had no experience. But it was my dream, and I didn’t let what others said stop me.”

She nodded. “And now your store’s a big success and everyone’s saying you’re a genius.”

“Not everyone. But I’m proud I didn’t let others talk me out of my dream.” He cradled her hands between both his own, savoring the smoothness of her skin. “Now it’s your turn. What’s your dream that hasn’t come true yet?”

She thought a moment, obviously reluctant. “Well…I want to be a massage therapist. I mean, it’s something I really think I’ll stick with.”

“So you’re already doing that. What else? What haven’t you done yet that you want to do?”

She furrowed her brow. “I wish now I hadn’t given up racing.”

“Why did you? Because you were afraid of getting hurt?”

She shook her head. “No. I think that was just an excuse.”

“Then why?”

She worried her lower lip between her teeth. “My mother had been after me for a while to give it up.” She ducked her head, but not before he read the hurt in her eyes. “She said it was selfish to waste so much time and energy on something I’d never be able to make a living at.”

Cassie selfish? Admittedly, he didn’t know her that well, but he couldn’t picture her as selfish.




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