Christ. Jake resisted the urge to dive into her freezer for more ice cubes. Anything to cool off and keep from touching her.

She ran a hand over her smooth ponytail before moving onto one of the bar stools at her kitchen island, taking a sip of her wine, and crossing her legs primly as though granting an interview to a curious reporter instead of dealing with a horny man.

The robe was millimeters away from revealing whether or not she was wearing panties, and Jake was rapidly forgetting why he’d called in a dozen favors to track down Grace’s address. Revenge? A tantrum? Confirmation that she wanted him too? A guarantee that she’d be honest and put that in her article?

“There was no dream, was there, Grace?”

She blinked a little in surprise. “What?”

“That text message. Implying that you’d had a na**d dream about me.”

“I never said I was na**d,” she demurred.

“But you must have known I’d picture it that way,” he said, moving toward her. “You must have known that I’d picture you na**d in your bed, waking up thinking about me. Wanting me. Maybe touching yourself.”

She tried to bolt off the bar stool, but he was faster, both hands clamping down on her h*ps and holding her still.

“So tell me … there was no such dream, was there?”

“No,” she whispered. She licked her lips then, and that was all it took. It was over for him.

“There’s about to be.”

Then he dipped his head, and his lips found hers.

Chapter Ten

Grace may not have had an actual dream about Jake, but she’d done plenty of daydreaming.

Turns out, her daydreaming didn’t even come close.

She’d known he’d be a good kisser; she just hadn’t expected to find out firsthand. Nor had she expected to be wrong.

Jake Malone wasn’t a great kisser.

He was fantastic.

Grace wasn’t sure when she’d moved, but her hands had found the front of his shirt, clasping him to her as though he was the best thing she’d ever tasted. And he just might be. He tasted like bourbon and man, and it was a good thing his hands were still pinning her h*ps to the chair because otherwise she’d be crawling up his body and wrapping her legs around his waist.

As it was, she contented herself with his lips, and they were very, very fine lips.

He explored her in demanding, drugging kisses, and when his tongue finally slipped between her lips she heard a moan.

Hers? His? It didn’t matter.

His tongue was circling hers, slipping and sliding in a perfect seductive rhythm.

Grace slid her hands from his shirt to his neck, tugging him even closer.

In response, his hands slid from the side of her h*ps to under her butt and he lifted her against him only briefly before settling her on top of her kitchen counter so their mouths were even. One hand tangled in her hair as the other slid just slightly into the opening of her robe. His hand settled just above her breast, the backs of his fingers against her heart.

Oh God.

Her heart.

The very thing that was likely to get engaged if she didn’t put a stop to this now.

Grace pulled away on a gasp, her fingers reflexively tightening in his shirt as though loath to release him before she jerked her hands back.

It should have relieved her to see that he was breathing as hard as she and that his eyes were as clouded as she knew her own were.

But instead it scared the crap out of her. What the hell was going on here?

“Was that my punishment?” she asked, her voice coming out raspy.

He closed his eyes and took a small step back. “Is that what you think? That I have a camcorder hidden in my tie knot and I’m going to post it on that godforsaken website?”

She ran a hand over her hair to smooth it, but gave up when she realized it was hopelessly mussed from Jake’s fingers.

“So we’re not mentioning this in the article?”

He swore and retrieved his drink. “Journalistic integrity demands that we should.”

Grace nodded. “It does.”

“It would be fair to our readers.”

She nodded again. “Definitely.”

“I don’t think we should.”

Grace’s head bowed in relief. “I definitely don’t think we should. It’s understandable that we might inadvertently cross wires between our professional and personal involvement. We can simply chalk this up to a mistake and refocus on the goal.”

Jake’s eyes burned dark. “That’s not why I … Shit. Fine.”

Grace awkwardly climbed down from her perch on the counter, being careful not to let her robe ride up. Not that he was even trying to sneak a peek. He had a preoccupied, distant expression on his face.

“So what’s next?” Grace asked. “I mean, we agreed to see this thing through for five dates, and I don’t think we should count this one as a date.”

“Yeah. God forbid a date should involve kissing.”

“It’s not an actual date, Jake,” Grace snapped.

“Right, because you don’t do those. Not until your arbitrary six months are up.”

Grace snatched her wine off the counter and went around to the other side of the kitchen. “I am not having that conversation with you.”

“Why, because I’m a man? In addition to not sleeping with men, you can’t talk to them either?”

Her lips pressed together in irritation. “You’re being surly.”

“Blue balls will do that to a guy.”

Do not look at his balls. Do not …

Hell, it was impossible not to, although she dragged her eyes back up to his immediately. His expression hadn’t changed.

Too late Grace realized that she’d apparently locked 2.0 in some deserted closet in her brain for the evening. A pity. She really could have used her new alter ego’s resolve when she’d had her fingers tangled in Jake’s hair.

“Next date’s on me,” Jake said, tossing back the rest of his whisky and heading to the door.

She so did not like the sound of that.

“When? What? Where?” She danced after him, reluctant to let him go until she knew what their next move was.

He turned back then, stopping so suddenly she nearly ran into him.

Jake’s hand gently reached out to grab her wrist, his thumb pressing to the spot that she knew was throbbing erratically. They both watched his big thumb on her small wrist for several seconds before he slowly lifted his eyes to hers.

“I’ll be in touch.”

He left much more quietly than he arrived, and Grace stood perfectly still for several minutes after he’d shut the door.

I’ll be in touch.

It had sounded like a threat.

Chapter Eleven

The October issue went to press. And Grace tried to tell herself that she was content with the fact that Jake confessed to having “serious na**d thoughts about Grace Brighton.”

But had the man who claimed to find her “ridiculously attractive” bothered to call?

No. No, he had not.

Instead it had just been a slew of flirty text messages, and damned if those didn’t make her feel like a girl with a crush.

Jake: What are you wearing?

She’d texted him back, equally flirty: Wouldn’t you like to know?

That had only been the first of many, and Grace was embarrassed to admit even to herself how often she reread his texts.

The only trouble was …

Those damn texts were now up for public consumption.

“I can’t believe Camille gave Alex Cassidy the login information for the website,” Riley said as she, Riley, Emma, and Grace huddled around Julie’s computer.

“I can’t believe he put their text message communications up for everyone to analyze. Totally tacky,” Julie said loyally.

“Well, it does make sense,” Emma said calmly in her slight southern drawl. “I mean, it’s HeSaidSheSaid. We needed the he part.”

Three irritated female eyes glared at the newest member of their group, but Emma merely shrugged. “I make a valid point.”

“Valid or not, it still misrepresents Gracie.”

“Not unlike how I misrepresented Jake,” Grace said reluctantly. She wasn’t thrilled with the man. She really wasn’t. But at least the score was even now.

She just wished she hadn’t sounded so damn needy in the messages he’d blasted all over the World Wide Web.

Jake: Been thinking about me?

Grace: Yes. I spilled my coffee the other morning, and your article did a great job mopping up the mess.

Jake: So you read it.

Grace: I may have skimmed it.

Jake: And …

Grace: Why don’t you call me and find out?

“You do sound sort of … come-hither,” Julie said reluctantly.

“I didn’t even know one could do come-hither in a text message,” Grace said, accepting the handful of emergency Skittles that Emma offered.

“Sure. You can do come-hither anytime,” Julie said in a matter-of-fact tone.

Grace stared at Julie, appalled. “Poor Mitchell. And for the record, I did not intend a come-hither. If Jake the jackass had revealed the rest of our text message conversation, it would have shown that I’d said he would have to get in line to ask me out, because the video I posted had made me very popular and I’d gotten several date offers …” Increasingly agitated, Grace pulled out her phone. “Here, I’ll show you. I was very clear in my rejection.”

Riley rolled her eyes. “For God’s sake, Grace. We’re your friends. We believe you. Also, we need to work on your comebacks.”

But Grace wasn’t listening to Riley. Or any of them. She had a new text message from Jake. Just to her this time.

Jake: Did you hear? Ninety-seven percent of readers think you’ve got the hots for me.

Her mind flitted back to that kiss. The way he’d owned her mouth and had her body humming. Ninety-seven percent of readers wouldn’t be wrong. But of course he didn’t need to know that.

Grace: Nice touch getting the website out on Stiletto’s and Oxford’s Twitter feeds.

Jake: Indeed. What’s it the kids say today? It’s gone viral?

Grace: Wow, that’s such great news. I’m sure all that traffic is going to love what I put up next on the site.

“You have a plan, then?”

Grace jumped as she realized Riley was reading over her shoulder, and instinctively she hid her phone like an eighth grader trying to hide her crush from her mother.

Riley’s eyebrows rose knowingly. “Graaaaaacie … Is there something you want to share with the class?”

She held up a finger. “No comment. I don’t want to hear one comment from any of you. Let me think this through.”

“So no plan, then,” Emma said under her breath.

“She was flirting,” Riley said in a scandalized tone. “I saw it.”

“Not helping,” Grace ground out, trying to clear her head.

It took two pieces of chocolate before the answer came to her. “Julie, you keep in touch with that guy from Oxford? The sportswriter you had a couple dates with?”

“Cole? I mean, we’re not best friends or anything, but we’re chatty in the elevator if we run into each other.”

“You have his phone number?”

“I think so.”

“Good. Call him. You need a favor. If you can’t charm him, bribe him.”

“Of course I can charm him,” Julie muttered as she dug through her purse for her phone.

“What am I asking him for?”

Grace’s eyes fell on the computer screen, which revealed that now 98 percent of people thought she was moping around for Jake Malone’s phone call.

He’d expect her to deny it.

She had a better idea.

* * *

Grace had never had reason to go to the Oxford offices before. Technically they were only one floor below the Stiletto offices, but in the Ravenna building, each floor was like a different world.

The Oxford office had a very distinct vibe.

One might call it … testosterone.

On the plus side, there was plenty of male eye candy. Apparently the Oxford staff took all of those macho-men workouts and manly diets to heart, because there were plenty of broad shoulders and trim butts.

None quite as nice as Jake’s, of course.

Objectively speaking.

Belatedly she remembered to pull her hair out of its usual prim knot before approaching the receptionist desk. Julie had insisted that a subtle sex-kitten look was crucial for this mission, and Grace discreetly undid one of the buttons of her green blouse. Just enough to keep things interesting.

The receptionist had an adorable pixie cut and a megawatt smile. “May I help you?”

“Grace Brighton here to see Jake.”

She intentionally didn’t say his last name. Not because she figured there was only one Jake in the Oxford office, but because she wanted it to be very clear that this was a personal visit. Very personal.

The receptionist’s eyes fell on the frozen coffees Grace had in both hands. Whipped cream, chocolate sprinkles, caramel sauce … the works.

There could be no doubt what Grace was up to. She was bringing Jake a frou-frou coffee on a sunny afternoon. This wasn’t we-have-work-to-do coffee. It was date coffee.

The receptionist wavered for a few seconds, clearly debating going against protocol by not announcing Grace versus not offending Jake Malone’s new girlfriend.

Then again, if Jake was right and the damn website had gone viral, the receptionist probably already knew who Grace was and felt a little sorry for her.

That was fine. Grace would take the pity pass. Anything to get her through the door.