Shades of Desire: 10 Sweet & Spicy Romances

by J. A. Coffey

  Almost as crazy as spending another balmy year alone in Atlanta.

  "You staying long?" The driver had nice eyes and an honest to goodness cowboy hat. He kicked it back on his head and gave her an appraising glance that traveled from her low rise jeans to the crown of her head and back.

  "Just a week." Jess felt her cheeks warm. Despite her sensitive jerk-o-meter, she still appreciated a good looking man. Especially one appreciating her.

  He lifted his chin toward the porch, where a petite brunette waited with a clipboard and a smile. "Maybe I'll be seeing you, then."

  Focus, she reminded herself. This trip wasn't for pleasure, well not entirely. Not unless the court allegations were dead wrong.

  Jess waved to a woman waiting by the entrance, who from the nametag and clipboard could only be Seneca, her personal love consultant and erstwhile travel agent.

  "I'll be pretty busy. Thanks." Jess slipped him a fiver, without lingering over the hand contact.

  The driver shrugged and hefted her battered brown suitcase up the lodge steps and into the main foyer. "Your loss," he said with a flippant smirk that reminded her far too much of her ex.

  Jess resisted the urge to laugh out loud.

  "You must be Jessica." Seneca called out as Jess ascended. Her dark brown eyes crinkled when she smiled. She was dressed in a pair of khaki pants and cream colored top that set off her dark complexion.

  "Call me Jess." Jessica peered into the almost empty main foyer where overstuffed leather furniture surrounded a huge stone fireplace. "Am I the first to arrive?"

  "The last, actually." Seneca put her hand on the back of Jess' arm to guide her inside. "We were afraid you might have changed your mind."

  Jess grimaced. She'd "changed her mind" at least a half dozen times, turning down further contact from fellow LoveLiners. Her love consultant didn't pull punches, but Jess admired that quality, especially in a society that thrived on double-talk. "Not yet. But I can't speak for later."

  "Women's prerogative." Seneca winked conspiratorially. "I think you'll be pleased when you meet your prospects. Do you need to freshen up or anything?"

  Jess nodded. "After a five hour flight? Yes, please!" She could review her investigative tactics and questionnaire later.

  "Check in at the desk. Your room is on the first floor, just down that hall." Seneca gestured. "There are other vacationers here, by the way. This is a small mixer, so just be aware that everyone here isn't in the program."

  "Great, thanks." Jess turned and stopped dead in her tracks.

  Standing next to the huge natural stone fireplace in the center of the lobby was a man with tousled dark hair and broad shoulders encased in a black designer t-shirt she definitely wouldn't mind removing. He was tanned with a square jaw and full lips, a hot fudge sundae poured into a pair of faded blue jeans.

  Her mouth went dry. She'd always had a thing for guys who could work a pair of jeans better than a suit. She was a dynamo in the workplace, but her recent forays in dating made her feel like a total novice.

  Their eyes met. He gave her a careless grin over the manager's shoulder. The kind that reduced most women to silly putty. Her nervousness spiked even as her knees went weak. Tall, dark and hottie. Jess bit her bottom lip. Was he part of the LoveLines group?

  The guy lifted his chin. He was definitely a charmer, and in her world that meant trouble. She couldn't make the same mistake twice. She wouldn't. His smile deepened. Jess coughed, trying to loosen the breath stuck in her throat.

  Seneca gave her a curious look. "Everything okay?" Her gaze darted from Jess to the guy at the fireplace.

  This guy was used to getting his way with women, a definite magnetism Jess couldn't afford to succumb to again.

  "Just a little nervous about meeting the others." Jess hefted her suitcase, willing her eyes not to stray toward him. "See you in a few?"

  "Sure." Seneca nodded, but her eyes remained thoughtful.

  Jess checked in to a private room on the first floor where she changed into her favorite ivory silk blouse and touched up her lipstick. She took a few deep breaths to get over her raging hormones and unpacked her clothing and briefcase, setting the inconspicuous file for LoveLines on the desk. Paperwork was a bracing reminder of the real reason she'd come. It certainly wasn't for tall, dark and hottie with the double fudge eyes.

  She sighed with regret. Her room was extravagant, the perfect blend of luxury and casual comfort. Positioned on the main floor, her suite overlooked the lodge's huge pond and had a detailed view of the distant mountain range from the French doors to her private patio. Near the gardens, she saw a couple meander down a gravel path that skirted the pond, totally enamored with each other.

  What the heck was she doing here?

  After a lousy marriage, painful divorce, and almost three months of wading through profiles, she still hadn't found someone. And to make matters worse, the random anxiety attacks she'd suffered through college had returned. Suze said it was symptomatic of the crap her ex had put her through. Stan, her ex, was a corporate investment banker who'd made it his priority to deposit himself into as many willing women as he could find.

  All the time she'd wasted, ignoring her intuition in the hopes of finding love and security. Stan obviously had no problems with the opposite sex. So, why couldn't she open herself to a second date? Or even a second cup of coffee? Getting assigned to a dating service investigation should have been a great way to commit herself fully to entering the dating scene.

  Should have been, but wasn't.

  Jess sighed and turned away from the view. Stan warned her that she'd never find someone else. Well, she would prove him wrong! Maybe she didn't measure up for Mr. Right yet, but she sure could use a Mr. Right Now. Pinky just wasn't enough. She needed more than a self-induced orgasm. She needed a hot blooded man who made her heart race and would still be there in the morning when she woke up. As long as it didn't jeopardize her investigation, that is.

  A knock on the door brought her out of her reverie.

  Jess trotted over and flung open the heavy paneled door, expecting to see Seneca. Instead, a man—no, the man—turned and gave her a confident grin. She wanted to pinch herself to prove she wasn't dreaming.

  The hunky male model from the LoveLines commercials.

  "Oh!" She took a startled step back and clunked her head on the doorjamb. "It's you!" She rubbed the sore spot rising on her scalp.

  He inclined his head. "Huh?" He had a nice voice, neither deep nor husky, but nice.

  "The guy from the commercials. Navy swim trunks, right?" Jess forced her eyes back into their sockets. Up close, Navy Swimtrunk Man was even more breathtaking than the scenery. LoveLines sure knew how to pick them. If she hadn't been so startled, she'd have been too nervous to speak.

  "Oh! Right, ri-i-i-ight." He dragged the vowel sounds like a red-blooded American surfer. "I get that a lot. I was told to grab you for our group session. You want to...uh...?" He nodded towards the restaurant area. "Everyone's back there."

  Jess blinked twice. "Sure. Let me grab my room key."

  She grabbed her keycard and followed him, somewhat in a daze, to where a group of fourteen other people lounged in various pairs in a cozily lit area. Jess suddenly realized she had nothing to take notes with. She suppressed a groan and scanned the room. A cocktail napkin? A beer label? Anything would do in a pinch. An impressive bar was arranged to one side. She snagged a napkin and ordered a soda water with lime. Seneca gave her a half wave from the front of the room and several of the women cast her envious glances as she and hunky man settled at a café table.

  "Uh, what was your name again?" Hunky Man asked, while scouting the room over her shoulder.

  "Jessica. You can call me Jess." She did her best to focus, pretend she was part of the group of happy hopefuls.

  "Right, ri-i-i-ight. I'm Alan." He shook her hand limply.

  Whoa, strikes one and two. Alan seemed to have limited vocabulary and a weak grip. His handshake better be
the only thing that's flaccid. Jess compressed her lips and swiped her hands on her jeans before Seneca began the introductions.

  As Seneca described the program, Jess scanned the female competition. Three blondes and four women with various shades of brunette. She was the only redhead. Interesting. All of the men seemed in good shape physically, although it was hard to see into the darker corners of the lounge. Some, including Alan, were better than good. Jess glanced around the room. A literal buffet of men, all potential matches with her profile. Her breathing quickened.

  Alan gave her a smoldering look and she waited for her hands to turn icy, a sure sign she was heading for an anxiety attack. Nothing. She wiggled her fingertips just to be sure. Alan looked perplexed.

  "Uh, cheers." She lifted her water glass the moment a waiter set it in front of her.

  "Bottoms up." Alan winked.

  She had to be crazy. Here she was with what should be her ultimate fantasy man...she should be in heaven. So why did she feel...indifferent?

  Jess swallowed hard and scanned the lounge again. There didn't appear to be an outright dud in the waiting prospects, but she'd learned long ago that appearances could be deceiving. Her heart skipped a beat when she saw Mr. Hot Fudge from the fireplace seated near the back. So, he was a client! Jess had already seen Alan with his shirt off during the commercial. Looked like this guy could give him a run for his money. And the fact that he was her potential match set her nerves on high alert. He stared at her for a long moment before switching his attention back to his female companion. Jess felt her fingers start to numb. She rolled her neck, trying to loosen some tension as Seneca continued.

  "Although there aren't any scripted activities, we would like to begin this week with a speed dating session to get you all introduced. Please, turn to your table partners. When you hear the bell, the ladies will rotate to the next table to your right." Seneca waved her hands at a few chivalrous protests. "I know, I know, but it's to our ladies advantage to show off their best assets, don't you think?"

  Jess laughed along with most of the crowd. Thank heavens for those workouts.

  "Continue circulating until you've had a chance to meet everyone and then we'll wrap up." Seneca checked her watch. "Everyone ready?" She flicked her wrist and the brass bell in her hand jingled.

  Jess forced herself to smile at Alan. C'mon, pull it together. She hated these things. The conversations were so awkward, especially when her partners found out she investigated liars for a living.

  Alan gave her an insolent grin as the chatter in the lounge rose to an excited hum. She racked her brain for something to say...something other than commenting on his incredible good looks.

  "It looks as if a storm might roll in tonight," she ventured, wanting to sink under the table. Brilliant. Totally the wrong thing to say. No one would ever believe she'd graduated summa cum laude. A sudden wave of panic engulfed her. Her stomach twisted into knots as she shredded the paper napkin on the cocktail table. She forced herself to remain calm. Napkin, note taking...where was her pen?

  "Right, ri-i-i-ight. The clouds are, like, awesome here." An agonizing moment of silence followed. Alan nodded. "Like, really awesome."

  "Uh-huh. Awesome." Jess parroted, wanting to hide under her napkin shreds. This was going so badly! "So, uh...what do you think about the program?" If only she'd thought to bring a mini-recorder with her!

  Alan's gaze flickered toward one of the large picture windows and back to her. His smile faded. "This is crap. We should take off somewhere just the two of us. My room isn't too far away. Yours is even closer. What do you say?" Alan leaned back in the chair and licked his lips. "We know each other already, eh?" He winked.

  Her jerk-o-meter went bonkers.

  Jess arched a brow. They were supposed to be getting acquainted, but Alan was cruising right to the finish line. She could appreciate a man who knew his way around women, but she hated overly confident men who relied on charm to get into a girl's pants. Been there, married that.

  She crossed her arms. "Do we?" He did nothing to encourage her interest, and this kind of testimony wasn't going to help her client's case at all.

  "Sure, we do. You're Jess, right?" He sat back and laced his fingers behind his head. He couldn't have looked more full of himself if he'd worn a paisley silk robe with a couple of vacuous females draped over his shoulders.

  She couldn't help herself. "Ri-i-i-ight." Her lips twitched into a smile. "So, what do you like to do, Alan?" Besides prance half naked on a beach, she finished in her head. "Do you have any hobbies?" Give me something to work with, here! She hated to give up her fantasy so easily, but Alan wasn't making it any harder for her.

  He shifted in his seat. His lazy confidence was gone, and he looked uncomfortable now that his super seduction had gone over like a cherry bomb in a church bathroom. "Uh, I don't know. I mean, I like working out and stuff. I guess this internet thing is okay." His eyes darted to the other couples. "What about you? You look good. You like a good work out?" He flashed another sexy smile. "I bet we could work up a good sweat." He reached for her hand.

  She jerked her hands off the table top and into her lap.

  "Sorry, Alan." Jess watched as Seneca ticked off the last few seconds and raised her hand to sound the bell. "Strike Three." She didn't even have time to bemoan the death of her fantasy before the bell signaled the next rotation. With her cheeks flaming, Jess stood and gathered her keycard and her water glass. At this point in her life, she wanted a little more than an adolescent tumble with a self-centered jerk. She wanted a man with substance.

  Or at least a good sound bite for court testimony.

  As she moved to the next waiting prospect, she watched the other couples part, some unwillingly, to change partners. Her gaze darted to Mr. Hot Fudge, and her stomach knotted again. He was staring right at her with a slight frown. Jess felt her cheeks heat, along with a few areas south of her belt buckle. That man made her toes curl right in the tips of her high heeled boots. She forced herself to look away from him and stumbled to the next waiting table.

  Focus, she reminded herself for the umpteenth time. It was getting harder and harder to do.

  Forget taking the plunge into dating, she needed to at least dip a toe in the water or she couldn't call her subscription legit. She'd just converted her free trial account to paid account—thanks to the expense account at work. The LoveLines guarantee only applied to paid accounts with a record of positive interactions...something about demonstrating sincerity in wanting to find a partner. And Suze told her she needed to find some middle ground.

  But with Mr. Hot Fudge staring at her like he wanted to eat her, Jess hovered at the next table to her right, unsure of how to begin.

  "Good afternoon. Rex Stanton." A well-dressed businessman stood and gave her a polite smile. He gave her a brief handshake. "Of Stanton Industries. Petroleum and natural gas." Rex was lanky and clad in a well-cut charcoal suit and silk brocade tie.

  He was tall. That was a plus. His light brown hair was neatly trimmed above the ears.

  "Jess Barlow." She shook his hand and sank into her seat. He waited until she was seated before settling back into his own chair. Polite, Jess thought. Another plus.

  Still, he didn't make her panties wet just looking at her.

  "What do you do, Ms. Barlow?" Rex steepled his fingers together and gave her an intent appraising glance.

  Jess smiled. His response would speak volumes. "I'm a C.F.E. A Certified Fraud Examiner." She paused, gauging his reaction.

  "Mhmm." Rex didn't blink. "Tell me more."

  "I investigate white collar crimes and provide litigation support, mostly for fraud. You could say I specialize in catching liars." Jess recited her well-rehearsed spiel, the same one she used when soliciting new clients. Rex listened politely, asking appropriate questions and nodding encouragement. His calm demeanor made it easy to slip into work mode, which soothed her jangled nerves.

  "Interesting choice of profession," he remarked.<
br />
  "I have a knack," Jess replied, tapping her fingernails on the table. "Contracts are usually pretty straightforward for me. No real surprises, no blurring the lines."

  "I see," Stanton inclined his head.

  "Sometimes being a bit conservative is an asset." She smiled. "You're a good listener."

  "Is that important to you?" Rex asked.

  "I like a man that knows when to stop talking. And when to start." She glanced at Seneca, still marking time on her watch. "What about you? What do you think of LoveLines?"

  "Questions, questions.... Is LoveLines under investigation?" he asked, with a wry smile.

  Jess faked a laugh. Inside, her stomach knotted. "Would I have admitted I was a fraud examiner if I was investigating?" she swept her hand around the room of chatting singles. God, was she that obvious? "I'm here to learn more about you." She gave him her best encouraging smile.

  Rex leaned back in his chair, shifting from active listener to corporate president. "Me? Not much to tell. Started my business when I was thirty-two. Went public three years later. The rest is history."

  Not a peep about his personal history? Typical suit. More interested in what she could do for his bottom line, than her actual bottom. Was he the type who matched her profile? Jess bit her lip. LoveLines had it all wrong. Even Pinky had more personality. She had a fleeting image of screwing Rex Stanton with a bag over his head and choked back a snort.

  "This isn't a job interview, Mr. Stanton," she chided, trying to recover her composure.

  Rex laughed, a soft, dry sound. "In my line of work, everything is business."

  It was a good reminder. She should stop worrying about impressing the prospects and start digging for evidence. "So, how's the LoveLines program working out for you?" she asked.

  "Time!" Seneca called and rang the bell.