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  “No thanks.” His hand was on her back, kneading her shoulder through the soft terry of the robe. “That’s not what I’m in the mood for just now.”

  Without another word, he reached out and ran a finger along her jawline, down her neck, to the collar of her robe.

  In one firm motion, he pulled her on top of him. And coffee completely lost its appeal.

  * * *

  “Tell me everything, and don’t you dare skip a single detail,” demanded Pepper Merriweather.

  Caroline and Pepper had been best friends for as far back as they both could remember. Tonight they sat at Caroline’s kitchen table, sharing a bottle of pinot noir and some to-die-for parmesan spinach dip Pepper had commandeered from the kitchen of Celebrations, Inc.

  They’d settled in with a spread of crudités and crackers, and Pepper was obviously expecting the details of Caroline’s time with Drew to be the main course.

  Seeing as how they always told each other everything—stories about first boyfriends, first kisses, first heartbreaks, first and last dates—Caroline was having a hard time coming up with diversionary tactics. Because Caroline wasn’t so eager to share the story of her first one-night stand.

  She wasn’t embarrassed. On the contrary, she was rather proud that for once she had not bowed to fear and had taken what she wanted. Not to mention the fact that it had happened with a guy like Drew Montgomery. That they’d spent all of Sunday morning in bed. Later they’d gone to brunch and had played together all day, until he’d dropped her off at home.

  When was the last time she had played?

  She had shared the surface points with Pepper. It was the more intimate details she was keeping closer to her chest.

  Really, the only reason she and Pepper were having this conversation was that Pepper had said she’d seen Caroline and Drew dancing at the wedding Saturday night...and then she had seen the two of them leave together. Pepper tended to have a special kind of radar for things like that.

  Now here Caroline was with her friend on Monday evening, sharing a bottle of wine, Pepper getting bolder and more insistent with each sip. The vaguer the answers Caroline gave, the more Pepper demanded the details.

  The truth was, Caroline felt sort of like Cinderella having been to the ball, having danced with the prince all night, and now her coach had turned back into a pumpkin. Like Cinderella, she wanted more, despite the pact that she had made with herself that it would be just one night. But one night had turned into the next day, and pretty soon that pact she had made with herself was falling through the porch cracks as Drew kissed her good-night just before midnight.

  So, now pactless and wanting more, she wasn’t sure how Drew felt.

  When he left, he had not promised he’d call. Caroline had convinced herself that that was a good thing. Because if he’d said it, she would’ve gotten her hopes up, only to have them dashed when he did not follow through.

  Instead, he had not said it, and here she sat uncertain and vulnerable with her hopes up anyway.

  Oh, God, what made me think I could have a one-night stand?

  She dug her nails into her palms and reminded herself that it was what it was. She had wanted one perfect night with a guy who was perfectly imperfect for her. One night to release all the wedding stress and then she would return to her regularly scheduled life, which had no room for ongoing romance.

  Because of that, she did not dare try to find her prince or hope that her prince would care enough to find her again—although Drew did know where she lived, and she already knew he made no pretense of being Prince Charming.

  Well, okay, he’d earned the charming part. That was part of the reason she did not feel like dishing the details with her friend.

  Pepper picked up the bottle of pinot noir and refilled Caroline’s wineglass. That was an unspoken signal, and Caroline knew that in exactly four...three...two...one...

  “Never in a million years would I have picked out a guy like him for you. But good for you, honey.” She pushed Caroline’s glass toward her and then clinked it with her own. “Cheers! I mean, if I’d been paired up with him, I would’ve gone for him myself. But it was obvious that he only had eyes for you.”

  Caroline smiled and shrugged as she sipped her wine, racking her brain for something—anything—to change the subject.

  Too late.

  “Now, I know y’all spent the night together,” Pepper said, “but the burning question is, when are you going to see him again?”

  There was a sparkle in Pepper’s eyes that hinted that her doing such a thing would be pure decadence...and maybe even highly recommended.

  Caroline tried to act nonchalant, despite the heat she felt rising in her cheeks. “I don’t know,” she answered truthfully. “I guess that remains to be seen.”

  Pepper straightened in her chair as if Caroline had just revealed the juiciest secret of all. “So that means you would see him again?”

  Pepper cocked her head to the side, holding her wineglass midair.

  “Well, why wouldn’t I?”

  Pepper blinked and looked little stunned. “But you want to see him again, right?”

  Caroline sipped her wine, buying time. She rolled the liquid around on her tongue, savoring its cherries, plums and earthiness.

  Being put on the spot by Pepper sort of had the same effect as flipping a coin for an answer—in that flash of seconds before fate decided the answer, she knew what she wanted in her heart of hearts.

  Yes. She did want to see him again. They’d had a fabulous time together. A truly fabulous time. No one was more surprised by this than she was. He’d been sweet and gentle and interesting. What was more, he seemed genuinely interested in her.

  He would call.

  Wouldn’t he?

  Oh, God, what if he didn’t call?

  * * *

  Drew spent way too many hours in the office, but long hours were the nature of his job as editor-in-chief of the Dallas Journal of Business and Development.

  After taking three days off for the wedding and spending all day Sunday with Caroline, he faced the age-old problem when he returned to work on Monday: his head just wasn’t in the game. He hadn’t been able to stop thinking about Caroline since he’d left her at the door after kissing her goodbye last night.

  Even so, that morning, he’d hit the ground running—albeit with a smile on his face—and had not stopped all day.

  Now, his computer screen glowed in the dusk of his dimly lit office. An article that one of the reporters had written about the opening of a new credit union in the area stared back at him blankly, and all he could think about was that at this time last night, he’d been with Caroline.

  Come on, damn it. Focus on work.

  Drew narrowed his gaze at his screen, redoubling his effort. It was stuffy in his closed office despite the cool October weather. Too bad he couldn’t open a window and let in some fresh air. But the one window in his shoebox-size second-floor office was strictly for show and not function.

  He got up and opened his office door instead. The newsroom was quiet. Since it was after eight, all the cubicles were empty, including the one that belonged to managing editor Bia Anderson. Since Bia and the staff had worked double time in his absence, he had intended to work extra hard for the next four days to pull the rest of the week’s edition together. He’d sent her home early. He was alone in the office.

  The newsroom was eerily silent. The faint smell of coffee hung in the air, mingling with newsprint and something else that was unique to the office. Drew liked to think it was the smell of ambition.

  He made his way to the small kitchenette, and for a moment he thought about putting on another pot of coffee, but he dismissed the idea when he saw that someone had already cleaned up the coffee station. No use in dirtying it up again today, even though he was going to be there a while. He settled on a glass of cold water from the cooler next to the coffeemaker and made his way back to his desk.

  Since the Dallas Journa
l of Business and Development hit the stands on Friday—a strategy designed to allow the Journal a slim margin to scoop the competition—the daily paper’s special tabloid-size business section, which ran on Mondays—Drew’s week began on Friday and ended on Thursday.

  That meant he worked most weekends. Technically, Monday was midweek for him. After taking off Friday, Saturday and Sunday, he should have been way behind schedule. But since Bia had done such a beautiful job handling the first three days of the week, it wasn’t so bad.

  Of course, there were still things that only he could do...in addition to editing the handful of articles that were just coming across his desk.

  Being the editor-in-chief of the newspaper meant he had to be disciplined and had to keep everyone else on track. He shifted in his chair, squeezed his eyes shut for a moment as he took a long drink of water. He opened his eyes again.

  The Journal may have been a small operation, but Drew ran a tight ship and expected nothing less of everyone else.

  Yet, even as he resumed editing the credit union article, his thoughts drifted to the events of the past weekend.

  It had been a long time since he’d been distracted like this, and all he could think was, Damn, she was worth the wait. Even though he had no idea he’d been waiting. Or that he’d been waiting for her.

  This thought helped him power through the article. He finished it, saved the changes and exited out. Pushing back from his desk, he acknowledged that it was time to take a break more substantial than getting a glass of water. He’d worked through dinner. So maybe a break would leave him better off in the long run.

  He picked up the phone and dialed Caroline’s number. It rang four times. He thought it was going to voice mail when she picked up.

  “Hello?” Her voice sounded like heaven to his ears.

  “Hi, I have this tuxedo hanging in my closet. And I have this really hideous pumpkin-colored tie hanging there with it. I understand that you might know of someone who has an outfit—preferably a dress—that might complement it or at least make it look good.”

  Her laugh was low and sexy.

  “I think I know just the person you have in mind.”

  The sound of her voice made him smile. He leaned back in his chair, and for the first time since he’d left her at her front door last night, he felt the tension melt out of his shoulders.

  “So, where besides a wedding does one wear such unsightly pumpkin getups?” he asked.

  “That depends on the pumpkins involved,” she said. “Pumpkins are always welcome at the farmers’ markets. This time of year, they’re frequently spotted in the produce aisle of the grocery store. Or for the really adventurous, they’ve been known to frequent ravioli and various pies and pastries. But that’s not for the everyday pumpkin; definitely not for the faint of heart.”

  “That’s very good to know,” he said. “So, you’re not faint of heart, are you?”

  “Me? No. Not me. Not at all.”

  “Did not think so. I didn’t take you for that sort of girl.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” Her voice wavered a little bit.

  So she wasn’t as tough as she was pretending to be. Quick-witted, yes. But not tough.

  “That’s my lame way of asking you if you’d like to go to the farmers’ market with me Thursday night. We can put on our hideous pumpkin outfits and have a scandalous night on the town.”

  “The farmers’ market is only open on Saturday mornings. I don’t think we can have a night on the town there.”

  “You’re not going to make this easy, are you?”

  “No. I’m definitely not easy, if that’s what you were thinking.”

  He smiled. She wasn’t exactly what he would call bristly, but he could tell he’d struck a nerve. Of course she wasn’t easy; she was damn irresistible.

  “Then how about simply going out to dinner with me Thursday night?”

  After a few beats of silence, she said, “I’d like that very much.” Her voice was soft again.

  He heard muffled background voices over the line.

  “Is someone there with you?”

  “Yes. Did you meet my friend Pepper Merriweather? She was at the wedding.”

  Of course he remembered Pepper. Everyone in the Southeast knew Pepper Merriweather. “Right. Yes, I did meet her. Her dad is Texas Star Energy, right?”

  Caroline laughed. “Yes, though I’d never really thought of him that way. But yes, I guess in a sense he is Texas Star Energy.”

  “I’ve interviewed her father before for the paper.”

  He paused, waiting for her to react. It was an interesting dynamic. With a certain set of Dallas’s business elite, the Journal had a reputation for being reckless and socially impudent, which, in common man’s terms, meant Drew published the cold, hard truth. He’d butted heads with Harris Merriweather and some of the higher-ups at Texas Star when Drew had asked questions that, for some reason, they did not want to answer.

  It was his duty to inform the public. It was also his job to ensure the stories he published were true and unbiased. The only way he could achieve that goal was to talk to people in the know. People who were willing to talk and tell him the truth. When sources stonewalled, it sent up red flags. Those red flags only encouraged Drew to push harder. Still, with Texas Star, he got nowhere.

  While Caroline and her friend Pepper moved in those elite Dallas society circles, Caroline seemed no more one of them than Drew was. Maybe that’s why they’d had such a strong connection. Whatever the reason, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d connected with a woman on so many levels.

  “So Thursday, then. I’ll pick you up at seven.”

  It was going to be a long three days.

  Chapter Three

  Drew’s distraction at work was a testament to how much Caroline had gotten to him. Apparently, his attention deficit was also obvious to his coworkers.

  On Thursday morning, Bia knocked on his door and stuck her head inside his office. “What’s up, Drew?”

  “Business as usual,” he said, not looking up from his computer.

  “Got a minute?”

  “Umm...” He finished what he was doing on the computer before he glanced up. “Sure. Come on in.”

  Bia shut the office door. Tucking one leg underneath her, she settled herself on a chair across from his desk.

  “How late were you here last night?” she asked.

  “I left around two.” He continued typing as he talked so not to waste time.

  She gasped. “Two in the morning?”

  “No, I left at two yesterday afternoon.” He looked up at her and scrubbed a hand over his face. “Of course two in the morning.”

  “All right, grouchy. Obviously someone needs a nap.”

  He had not meant to bite her head off. It was already four-thirty. He’d hoped to put this week’s edition to bed by five, but thanks to some glitches, he was running behind. “Sorry, B, I’m just trying to finish up here. Didn’t mean to snap at you.”

  Bia nodded. “Something else besides this week’s edition is on your mind. I can tell. Want to talk about it?”

  She was perceptive, that was for sure. It was a quality that made her a great reporter and an even better editor. But he really did not want her digging in his personal life.

  “What makes you think I have something other than work on my mind?”

  She quirked a brow at him. “Maybe the way you seem to be in an extra big hurry to get the paper out this week.”

  “What’s wrong with that?” he asked.

  “Who said there was anything wrong with it? It’s just out of character for you.”

  Drew tried to keep his face neutral. When Bia got a whiff that she was onto something, she read all the signs and signals until she had enough to substantiate her hunch.

  “Do you have a date tonight?” she asked.

  Drew looked away and started working on his computer again. Probably the wrong move—

  “You
do. You have a date! Who is she, Drew?”

  Oh, hell. He really didn’t want to bring his personal life to the office. He’d learned the pitfalls of that the hard way when he and the woman he’d almost married both worked at the Colorado Journal of Business and Development, before they were both promoted to posts as editors-in-chief of different papers. He got the Dallas paper. Joan got the Seattle Journal.

  When it became clear that one of them would have to compromise their career, it became fodder for the office gossip mill. Everyone was speculating on which one would give up the dream job for the preservation of their relationship. In the end, they sacrificed their future together. To this day, they remained good friends and even better colleagues, calling on each other for professional advice and sharing a good-natured rivalry concerning circulation and notable scoops.

  After they broke up, Drew vowed to leave his personal life at home. As the editor-in-chief, it would be unprofessional to date one of his staff. In fact, Drew had instituted a no-dating policy among the staff of his paper. It just kept things cleaner. No jealousy, no bitter breakups to add to the tension of an industry that was already stressful by nature.

  “Drew? You are out of it today.” Something bounced off his temple. It only took a second to realize Bia had wadded up a piece of paper and thrown it at him.

  “Seriously?” He tried to frown at her but ended up smiling in spite of himself.

  “You’re always the first one here in the morning and last one to leave,” said Bia. “Go on. Get out of here. This edition is almost done. I’ll see it through until the files are emailed off to the printer.”

  Drew’s smile faded. He knew he was looking at her as if she had two heads. Did she really think he would cut out early on drop day? Especially after taking a three-day weekend?

  “No, thanks. I got this. I can call and let her know I’m going to be a few minutes late.

  Bia whistled. “I knew it.” Her voice was triumphant.

  Drew cocked a brow at her to make it clear he’d let that bit of info slip on purpose.