LITMIR.BIZ

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didn’t.

      There had to be an answer. “Are you on drugs?”

      “Get lost, Jackson.”

      And now with the Jackson business? Nice. Yeah, you first. “Seriously, Cali, what’s your problem?”

      Her head snapped around. “Are you kidding?”

      He rolled his shoulders, then cocked his head, waiting her out. She issued a disgusted grunt and blew a renegade tendril of hair from her eyes with an exasperated breath. “I work for your sister-in-law. And, as I’m sure you’re aware, a position within her corporation is highly coveted.”

      Jake watched her march around the hotel room, gathering her things. “Yeah. I’m aware.”

      As a rule he considered himself a gentleman, but he’d be damned if he’d help—especially since her arm didn’t seem to be bothering her too much and the dressing was holding. Instead he propped a shoulder against the wall, crossing his arms and legs, and forced a careless smile while refusing to give in to the urge to grab that bag out of her hands and load it himself.

      Cali wrenched a zipper closed, huffing. “So you see what’s at stake?”

      Not really. Aside from the fact that what had happened last night had nothing to do with Cali’s job, Jake was a big boy, and not prone to crowing about his phone booth conquests to just anyone who would listen. If she wasn’t planning to spill to Amanda, Jake was more than happy to save himself a whole lot of hassle and keep his mouth shut too.

      Only Cali was back in his face, panic and fury blazing in her cheeks. “I see that smug look,” she accused, like the crazy person he suspected her to be. “Don’t think for one second that you have me bent over a barrel because of last night.”

       Bent over a barrel?

      Right now she deserved to be bent over his knee. His jaw clenched as he struggled for patience. What did it matter what she thought? Jake wasn’t a man concerned with others’ perceptions, so why should he feel himself rising to the bait of this woman he had nothing, nothing, invested in?

      She glared up at him in silent accusation, and suddenly concepts like self-control and maturity lost their allure. “Relax, sweetheart, if I’d really wanted you in bed, or bent over anything, I would have had you there last night. All I had to do was stop one second earlier and you would have been begging me. Strike that. You did beg.”

      Cali’s chin pulled back with her gasp. Patches of red splashed up her neck and face. “You jackass!”

      Ha! That felt better. Rising above was overrated. “Really? Me?”

      “I never—”

      “Please, don’t even try to deny that you weren’t desperate for what I gave you.”

      Cali’s fists landed on her hips as she leaned forward. “Desperate’s a pretty big word when satisfaction comes as easy as a pack of D-cell batteries, buddy,” she answered with an icy laugh.

      He knew what she was implying, and he didn’t want to think about it—not now. Not with her waving her ticket to Crazyville in his face.

      They’d gotten off track, anyway. Closing his eyes, he gritted his teeth for a moment’s control. They needed to take this down a notch.

      “Look, trust me, I’m not about to go talking to Amanda about this.”

      “Oh, that I never doubted,” she huffed. “Men like you make me want to…to…”

      She’d stopped in her tracks, and, standing there red-faced, arms cocked at her sides, fists balled, she looked as if she wanted to stomp her foot.

      She was a hassle.

      Irrational.

      Probably bipolar, considering the swing from last night’s engaging sweetheart to this morning’s unreasonable aggressor. His focus narrowed on the rise and fall of her chest, the pull and give of blue and white fabric across her breasts, the flush of red that darkened the hollow between them.

      Sexy.

      Jake didn’t do “crazy”. The passionate drama that drew some men was, to him, like a neon sign flashing in screaming orange: Run!

      Only this time it wasn’t.

      This time all that irrational heat and intensity was wrapped in a package he’d had his hands on once and was finding it harder and harder to ignore.

      “Men like me make you want to what?” he asked, taking a step toward her, dropping his tone to a bedroom lure. “I know what I made you want last night.”

      “Low-life bastard.” Her breath came faster, and the flutter of her pulse beneath the delicate skin of her neck became frantic. When she stepped back he closed in, propelled by some kind of contagious mental illness driving his predatory urge.

      “Tell me, Cali. What’s so different about this morning?” he taunted.

      Her eyes darkened, the long muscles of her throat moving up and down as she backed herself into the wall, crossing her arms over her chest—but not fast enough to hide the evidence of her hardened nipples straining through the taut fabric of her shirt. Lies and denial would only take her so far.

      “Are you deranged?” she whispered, in a husky voice that betrayed her emotions as much as the rest of her body had.

      Definitely. He had to be. Because something inside him had snapped and all he could think about was getting Cali into that big bed behind her. “You respond to me physically. I can see it.”

      “Because you’re man-candy. But I still wouldn’t touch you with a ten-foot pole.”

      “Man-candy?” He nearly laughed, loving the sound of it. “Really?”

      “It’s an insult!” she hissed, shaking her head in disbelief. “I’m dehumanizing you. Feel cheap and dirty, but for God’s sake don’t revel in it!”

      There wasn’t much he could do but shrug. “Man-candy” was the best insult he’d heard this decade. But Cali wasn’t done with him.

      “Is this some kind of sexual addiction condition with you? Do you need a support group? Can I call your sponsor?”

      Jake just stared steadily at her, knowing the bravado was about to break. And then it did—only not in the breathless, tossing-herself-into-his-arms way he’d expected.

      Suddenly Cali looked weary and defeated as she peered up at him. “Don’t vows mean anything to you?”

      That stopped him dead. Vows?

      Pieces of the puzzle began to fall into place, revealing a picture—

      Not possible. She couldn’t think…

      But then it all made sense. The way she’d referred to Amanda. Her shock at seeing him, her hostility, her disgust, her resistance to the obvious chemistry between them.

      She thought he was married. And she was utterly undone over it—out of her mind upset, offended, and enraged.

      The corner of his mouth pulled into a grin he couldn’t fight. His sexy Cali, who hadn’t been kissed in so very long and who sparked his blood to fire, was a principled little thing.

      “Stop leering at me like that!” she snapped.

      “So this—this animosity is about the vows?” he asked, suddenly curious about the strength of her convictions.

      She blinked twice, and then met his stare with her own. “Don’t mock me. Of course it’s about the vows. And my job. Amanda’s my boss. It’s despicable that you don’t have enough respect for your poor wife to keep your tongue to yourself.”

      “Hey, as I remember it, you seemed rather eager for my tongue last night.” And she’d tasted good, too.

      “But

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