by J. A. Coffey
"What is it?" she asked. Her eyes were still slightly unfocused, dilated with pleasure.
"Nothing," he replied.
And it was nothing, he told himself. It had to be.
Chapter Eight
An interlude in a semi-public place had been one of Jessica's private fantasies for years, but she'd never trusted a man enough to perform with her. And while she was all ready to pleasure him in return, suddenly Matt seemed reserved.
"Hey, beautiful. We should probably be getting back." He gave her a chaste kiss on the cheek and helped her to her feet. "That rain might roll in at any moment. I promised you we wouldn't get caught in the downpour."
"Okay," she brushed the dead grass and dirt from her clothes and dressed quickly while he packed up their lunch things and stowed them in the car. After today, she didn't think she'd mind getting caught with him anywhere.
The fact that she'd allowed a complete stranger to strip away her inhibitions along with her clothing was mind-boggling. A weird combination of erotic danger overloaded her emotions. She was in serious danger of falling for Matt, who seemed completely absorbed in his own thoughts, but worse than that she couldn't help wondering what this meant for her investigation. If she fell in love with a "guaranteed" match from LoveLines, that meant the system worked, didn't it? And if it worked for her, how could she corroborate the allegations of fraud?
They were quiet on the ride back to the lodge. As they pulled in front of the lodge's double doors, Jess realized she probably needed to focus on her assignment. As much as she wanted to spend more time with Matt, she desperately needed time to go over her paperwork.
"I'm kinda tired," she said. "Why don't we meet for dinner later? Say, six?"
He stared at her for a minute. "Okay." He leaned in and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. "See you in a bit, beautiful." The softness in his voice as he said it made her want to believe he really meant it.
Jess stumbled to her room, craving a shower and a long nap. Her body was completely sated, while her mind fretted over the conundrum that was Matt. He certainly seemed to give more than he took. But more and more, Jess found herself speculating on how to reciprocate.
Just as she flipped on the shower in her bathroom, a distant electronic beep signaled her cell phone. Uh oh. She grabbed it, checking the number on the display before answering.
It was Maxwell at the InvestiCorp main office.
"Hey, Max. What's up?" She hoped everything was up to par back at the office.
"You tell me. How's it going?" His tone was neutral.
"The LoveLines investigation?" Her voice quavered. She cleared her throat. "Fine. I mean, everything's going fine." After her fantastic afternoon, and the promising possibilities with Matt, things were better than fine, but she didn't want to tell him that she had her doubts about the plaintiff's statements. Maybe the LoveLines system really was legit?
"Jess, we need better than mediocre." Maxwell paused. "This one's getting some national attention. I'm a little concerned at the timeline left on this assignment."
She'd been working lower level litigation support for so long, and always under someone else's supervision. Though she wasn't exactly sure fraud investigation was her calling, she didn't want to blow her only viable source of income. Why did a promotion have to come now, just when she was distracted by such pleasant company?
"I'm on this one, Max. But you know as well as I things don't always go the way the client wants."
There was a long, uncomfortable pause. "What are you saying, Jess?"
"I'm saying, so far, everything seems above-board. I haven't heard any complaints." She hadn't exactly been trying. "I just need a few more days. Is it okay if I have some notes typed and ready by the end of the week?"
Maxwell paused. "I need to be up to speed by Thursday. After that you need to travel to their main office to interview the staff and look over their corporate policies and procedures before the mediation hearing on Monday. Check the legal wording of their money-back guarantee and identify any red flags. With the allegations pending, we'll get you full access to the company's records and staff." He paused. "No one can put a written guarantee on love, Jess. This one appears to be an easy catch. Lucrative, but easy. Don't blow it."
She sighed. Even if things went well with Matt, she'd barely have the weekend to recover before duty called. Still, money was money, but easy money was better. No matter how wonderful things were going with Matt, she had to be realistic. This was her career, a chance to prove herself. And with her limited income, she couldn't afford to lose her job, even if she wasn't thrilled about the idea of a long term career dealing with dishonest people.
"I won't let you down, Max. Fax me the remaining legal paperwork and I'll take a look at it tonight." She gave him the number listed on the stationery beside the bedside phone.
"Good girl! We'll send it through now."
"Fine." She hung up, feeling wearier than ever.
She pulled open the files from her briefcase and began to sort through the legal contracts and verbiage of the guarantee. It all seemed above-board. As long as clients elected to participate honestly in the program, they were guaranteed a match or a refund of their annual subscription. Jess nodded, remembering the tiny box she'd check marked on her own questionnaire that certified all questions were answered as truthfully as possible. It seemed legit. And thus far, there'd been no complaints or allegations against LoveLines—until Alicia Lange, that is.
Shadows crept along the wall and she realized she was running out of time. A quick shower and she'd check with the concierge for Maxwell's fax before meeting Matt for dinner.
She needn't have bothered.
After a delicious hot shower, Jess stepped out to find a manila folder on the floor just inside her room. She'd thought she heard knocking, but the shower's hard stream of water and her off-key karaoke had drowned it out. The concierge must have slipped it under her door.
She wrapped the towel around her dripping hair, tied the belt on the plush complimentary terrycloth robe, and perched on the edge of the bed to look over the contents.
More long boring documents.
Still, Jess felt her inner bullshit meter calibrating, ready for duty. She was used to ferreting out truth from lies. And she was usually pretty on target.
The client, Alicia Lange, alleged that LoveLines matching system failed to secure her a match in the specified time. Nothing wrong with that. But LoveLines refused to refund her annual subscription, despite their money-back guarantee. Jess scanned some of the documents, but she just couldn't understand why the company didn't just give Ms. Lange her money back. It seemed like an awful lot of trouble to go through for a perfect record...and besides, no one could really believe that a dating service would find a match for every client. Love didn't come with a money-back guarantee, or she and her mother would be billionaires by now.
Jess rubbed her lips.
The motion reminded her of the feel of Matt's mouth on hers. How was she supposed to focus on anything work related, now? Just when she'd discovered the wild world of wantonness with Matt. LoveLines had certainly pegged her ideal mate. Maybe this Alicia Lange was wrong. It wouldn't be the first time a bogus allegation was made by a client. Jess bit her lip. Was it possible the client had somehow negated the LoveLines matching system?
Her bullshit meter had been suspiciously erratic since her arrival.
She thumbed through the pages. The file said LoveLines was headquartered near Dallas. He body thrummed with a sudden wave of desire. Matt lived in Fort Worth. If she was really lucky, by the end of the week she might be able to combine wrapping up her investigation with a visit to Matt. No harm in mixing business with a little pleasure. Or maybe a lot of pleasure. Besides, she wasn't all that sure the allegations were legit.
The file listed the registered company owner as Destina DeVera. What a name! Maybe later she'd fire up her laptop and see what she could tap into online. That is if she wasn't otherwise occupied.
>
She folded up the folder, stifling the overwhelming desire to do something that had nothing to do with work or Maxwell. An image of Matt's naked body flashed before her eyes. She was so hungry for more of his touch, to see his face when he came inside her. Though they hadn't actually had sex, and she felt more open and in tune with herself than she'd ever been.
So much for her nap. She flipped the manila folder holding a death sentence on her sexual escapades onto the floor by her briefcase. Jess checked the clock. It was almost 5:30 p.m. Suze should just be getting in. She punched the memory button and waited for her gal-pal's chipper greeting, but after four rings, the line rolled into voice mail.
"Suze, it's me..." Jess began. How could she describe her situation? "Just checking in on things. Call me when you get this."
Suze was always so reliable, a great friend through every messy man situation. Jess sighed. Things were getting a little complicated with the sexy Texan. She really needed a pep-talk, but since Suze was unavailable, Jess would have to rely on her own intuition to guide her through her muddled feelings. She didn't know how she felt about hooking up with such a handsome man. Matt seemed like such a great guy. And their sexual compatibility had her drooling for more.
The thought of Matt's hands on her, and her instincts shouted for full-speed ahead.
Maybe Suze was right—she just needed a good lay. Her eyes wandered over to Pinky, still in his black velvet case in the bottom of her suitcase. She had no desire to take him out. In fact, after the past day and a half, she had no desire for much of anything—except Matt.
Thankfully, it was almost time to meet him.
After an hour's primping in front of her bathroom mirror, Jess strode into the lounge looking for her hot fudge hunk of a tour guide. She hoped he'd appreciate the care with which she'd dressed, although he'd have no way of knowing she wore her brand new black lace bustier underneath her cashmere sweater.
That was a special surprise meant for later. She'd had enough with the sexual appetizers. It was time for the main course. Jess scanned the tables in front of the big picture window, but Matt wasn't there.
Instead she saw her personalized love consultant, Seneca, sipping a soda at the front table. Seneca with her embarrassing probing questions. Seneca with her insider knowledge of the company. Maybe it was time to do a little probing, herself.
Jess sighed. No better time to start than the present. A simple interview and maybe she could wrap up this investigation in record time. It made her sick to think that the system that had matched her to Matt might be a scam.
She approached, and Seneca waved her into a chair. "Hey, Jess, how are things?" Seneca's eyes hawked over her. "You're positively glowing, and I haven't seen much of you around the lodge. Everything okay?"
Jess couldn't help but smile. "Better than okay, actually."
Seneca's eyes widened. "Really? That's great!" She looked genuinely thrilled for Jess. Maybe the company training provided for advanced customer support. "Who's the lucky guy?"
"Matt Brandt. The uh...Texan horse rancher. I really like him."
"Huh." Seneca looked stupefied. She shook her head. "Does he seem to share your, er...interest?"
Jess swallowed. Matt's fantastic form flashed in her memory. The way his eyes glowed when he saw her, the throaty growl when he was aroused, and his predatory hunger for her kisses.... "Yeah." She felt her cheeks grow warm. "I think so."
Seneca's brows rose and she gave Jess a strange smile. "Well, that's good, then."
Time to turn the conversation, Jess thought. Before Matt arrived and she became a raging sex fiend again. "So, this online dating service thing, it's pretty amazing."
Seneca cocked her head. "It sure is."
"Who developed the psychological matching system?" Jess rested her elbows on the table.
"Oh, the, um, company owner hired a professional to develop a system. You know the sales pitch, Jess, you've signed up for the system. And from your own account, LoveLines is working." Seneca pushed her soda away and signaled for the check.
She couldn't lose her just yet. Seneca was her "in" to the company policies. She had to gain her trust.
"It sure is." Jess didn't have to feign enthusiasm. "She must be a genius."
Seneca gave her a quizzical look. "Who?"
"The company owner. I mean, it's public information that LoveLines is a registered business name for Destina DeVera. And who else but a woman would take the time to identify the psychological matching points in a successful relationship?" She hoped dropping the owner's name would give her Seneca a sense of camaraderie. It was much easier to get people to open up if they thought you were in on things. "Say, Seneca, do you think it's possible the matching system could be faulty? Or circumvented somehow?"
Seneca's face blanched. "I guess. I never thought about it. Look, I need to check on my other clients." She picked up her purse and stood. "I...I'm really glad you found someone who makes you happy, Jess. You deserve it. You both do." She threw a few dollars on the table and took off like the devil himself was chasing her.
Jess wanted to bite off her tongue. How had she misread Seneca so badly? So much for heading up her own investigation. She couldn't even gain the confidence of her assigned love consultant. No doubt about it. She was losing her competitive edge. No wonder athletes abstained from sexual escapades during training.
She needed to clear her head, focus on her priorities. Who knew juggling work and romance could be so difficult? Jess huffed air noisily through her lips and checked her watch. She still had five minutes before she was due to meet Matt. A little fresh air would be just the thing. Maybe she could form a plan of action before other more preferably thoughts took over her brain. Jess pushed back from the table and headed for the outer patio.
*****
Matteo had decided.
Jessica Barlow had to be his. He whistled faintly through his teeth as he made his way to the lodge restaurant.
He'd replayed this afternoon, over and over in his mind. Jess just had to be a legitimate client. She hadn't given him any hint of motives, other than a divorcee in need of some serious attention. And he meant to be the man to give it to her. Matteo ran a palm over his chin, picturing her pale body splayed beneath him on the grassy riverbank. His lips tingled with the need to taste her again. There was no way in hell she was faking her passion. Or her need for encouragement. Seneca was right. She just needed the right guy to bring her out of her shell. He rubbed his hands together, aching for the touch of her under his fingertips. Well tonight, he'd take her...in more ways than one. And if he had anything to say about it, he'd take her for good. Matteo grinned. He'd pegged her correctly, though. She was dangerous, if only to his heart.
The truth was he wanted her, and for more than just this week.
Maybe he could talk Jess into sharing that chocolate soufflé they'd missed out on the other day. He'd love to see how a decadent sweet treat affected his sweetheart. Would she scarf it down? Or savor it? He grinned. After this afternoon, he was up for almost anything, as long as it involved being with her. It was amazing how she'd permeated his thoughts, his total consciousness in such a short span of time. He'd never been so glad to have misjudged a woman's motives before.
An arm shot out and grabbed his bicep, hard, halting him in his tracks.
"Hey!" He swiped at the offending appendage, only to find it attached to his sister. His agitated sister.
"We need to talk." Seneca grabbed him by the arm and tugged him around the corner, behind a huge fake ficus tree.
That's all he needed, for Jess to see him chatting with Seneca, for her to place the faint family resemblance. "Not now. I've got something else to do." Or someone, he finished in his head. It was about damn time, too.
Seneca's grip tightened. "No, Matt." His fake nickname sounded venomous. "Now."
She looked worried. Her nostrils were pinched and white. That didn't bode well. One of the reasons he'd hired his sister was her even tempered persona
lity. She wasn't moody, being one of those proverbial happy, cheery types.
"Fine." He nodded. "But not here." He glanced around the lobby, seeing no corner they could chat in unawares. "Outside."
He took her arm and propelled her to the outside stone patio. Seneca's lips compressed.
"Something's up, Bro. She's asking questions."
"Who is?" he asked absently. He scanned the area beyond his sister's shoulders, making sure no one was around. Only the hotel manager seemed to acknowledge their presence. Matteo would have a chat with him later, make sure the guy was discreet. His stomach twisted uncomfortably at all the subterfuge. Why couldn't he just enjoy his time with Jess without all the lies? He felt like a jerk. Worse than a jerk, actually. Was it so bad that he was the company owner and not a client? That was the point of LoveLines, wasn't it? To find....
"She is. Jessica. Hey! Are you listening to me?" Seneca twisted his sleeve in her fingers.
"What? Yeah, yes. Of course, I am. Back off." He forced himself to focus. "I'm listening. So, she's asking questions. What kind?"
Seneca frowned. "The weird kind." She looked worried.
"How so?" Matt tried to push away the sinking double dip his stomach took. All the time he'd spent with Jess, never once had she struck him as investigating. He'd done the probing enough for both of them.
"I mean it, Matteo. She wanted to know who developed the profile system, and she knew about Abuela Tina's name on the paperwork. You idiot! How could you register the company to our maternal grandmother, and not think someone would figure it out?"
Matt paused. "So, she knows the owner's name. Who cares?" It was exactly the reason he'd used Abuela Tina's name, instead of his own. Who would ever think to connect the heir to the Smoking Brandt Ranch with a high priced online dating service?
He'd used collateral from the ranch to secure a business loan that wrapped up fantasy online matchmaking in attractive packaging. The marketing plan was so effective that even he'd begun to believe that LoveLines' thirty-one point matching system, a blend of psychological profiling and personal preference compatibility, could work. From the numbers of success stories pouring in from LoveLines' customers, his formulas and algorithms had to be right.
