Candy hoped like heck she knew what she was doing. Jared looked like he could chew up nails and tie them into bows with his tongue. Heaven help her, she couldn’t tell if he was turned on, furious, or both.

And what had possessed her to run on at the mouth about her mother and stepfather? Not that she had an ounce of experience in having casual affairs, but she had to assume you didn’t start them out by talking about your family.

Give her another five minutes and she’d be whipping out photos of last Christmas and her cat wearing a Santa hat.

She finished stretching, her legs stiff from bending over the desk, and chewed her lip as she thought over her next move. This shouldn’t be so doggone hard. She’d been flirting since the cradle, as her mother frequently liked to remind her. But now when she needed it, all she could think to do was smile, which was lame and appeared to have no impact on Jared whatsoever.

It must be nerves. After all, there was a lot more at stake here than getting good restaurant service. Before she left this office today, she wanted a date with Jared. A date that would end up with them naked and Jared turning that intense concentration squarely on her.

Time to take a deep breath and turn up the heat.

“What’s the next question?” Jared said, shrugging out of his suit jacket.

Oh, Lord, he had broad shoulders. She didn’t think she’d ever seen him without his jacket on, and it was a sight worth lingering over. She lingered so long he raised an eyebrow.

“The question?”

The quiz. Right. With elephantine effort she turned around and tried to focus on the computer screen, her cheeks burning.

Jared was turning up the heat, and he didn’t even know it.

After quickly typing in their responses to birth place, she went on. “Question three. Describe the moment you met.”

That was easy. Jared had strolled into the office one Monday morning back in January and she had known lickety split that he would be the one to pull her out of the sexual deep freeze she’d been in since her divorce. He had been wearing a black suit with a burgundy shirt and tie, and he had looked at her, scanned her, and moved on. Dismissed. Dissed.

He had never once deviated in his behavior since.

Jared said nothing. Candy kept her eyes on the screen.

“I guess I’ll just type in that we met at work.”

“Fine.”

Her fingers trembled as she typed and she blew her hair out of her eyes, ignoring the disappointment she felt. Dang, what did she expect? Jared to say his eyes had met hers over the length of the meeting room table and it had been fate?

There was no doubt in her mind he could not even pinpoint the first time he had seen her.

Jared was desperate. They hadn’t even gotten to the hard questions yet and he was in danger of barking and drooling.

The first time he had seen Candy was branded into his mind. He had walked into Stratford Marketing and had gone into the meeting room for an eight a.m. appointment with Harold.

Candy had been there, wearing a cherry-red turtleneck sweater that matched her lips. Her blond hair had been pulled back into a twist of some kind and she had on a knee-length white wool skirt and boots. He had felt like he was staring at a life-sized peppermint, all white and shiny and sweet.

The sight had stunned him, giving him a spontaneous and mortifying erection, and had left his brain and body sizzling like a pound of bacon.

He’d gotten the hell out of that meeting room and thus had started the past eight weeks of dodging her like a bullet. She wouldn’t kill him, but she’d send him back to the unemployment lines.

“Next question.” He crossed his leg, widely, to accommodate for the throb in his pants, and picked a nice spot on Harold’s desk to study. There was a picture of a couple of preteen kids. Gangly. Little Harolds with hair.

“We’re cooking now,” she said with a perky little smile. “We’re already up to question four.”

Just what he did not need. She was acting cute. It had been better when she’d been talking about her family. That had at least made her seem real, a live human being with feelings and obviously someone he could not just tangle with in Harold’s office and walk away with no regrets or recriminations. But when she did this… this bent over-smiling thing, he forgot everything, including his own name.

“What’s the matter?” She sat down in the chair next to him, and pulled the laptop closer to the edge of the desk. “You’re scowling and I haven’t even read the question yet.”

He glanced at his watch. “It doesn’t feel like we’re accomplishing anything. I think we need to skip a few questions or something.”

With a little laugh, her fingers fell onto the back of his hand. Her fingers, for God’s sake. On his skin. Touching him.

“What’s your hurry?”

Now hold on. He turned in his chair, hoping the movement would knock her hand off his. It didn’t.

He didn’t like that tone in her voice. That let’s-see-where-this-goes laugh.

“I thought we were in a hurry. You said you were before.”

“Did I?” Her fingers squeezed his hand, her thumb sliding down around his, rubbing back and forth. “If I did then I’ve changed my mind. Sometimes slow is better than fast, don’t you think?”

It was a struggle not to twitch. Or grab her and kiss the Southern smile out of her.

“Slow isn’t better with Internet speeds. Or when you’re driving on the highway. Or waiting for a paycheck.”

Her head tilted. There was a gleam in her eye he just didn’t trust.

“But slow is better when you’re savoring a good meal. Or taking a stroll by the lake. Or in bed.”

Ah, hell. He’d been really, really afraid she would say something like that. Jared went perfectly still, concerned that any sort of movement, of any muscle in his body, might be misinterpreted as an invitation.

He said slowly, carefully, neither smiling nor frowning, “But we aren’t doing any of those things.”

Candy pulled her hand back. He was not reassured by the action since it was accompanied by her leaning way forward and undoing that loyal button on her jacket.

Those wonderful full lips parted with a little moist sound and she said, “We’re not doing any of them… yet.”

Jared swallowed. Hard. Instinct told him to ignore the comment, to change the subject, to spill a cup of coffee on Harold’s computer and get out while he still could.

That’s not what he did, of course. He had to know. Just had to. “Are you interested in doing any of those things?”

Candy had him. She had done it. She had gotten a reaction from Jared, and it was a very positive one, if the flare to his nostrils was any indication.

“I’m interested in one or two. How about you?”

He nodded. “A walk by the lake sounds nice.”

She sat straight up. Was he serious? “It’s March and forty degrees outside. One strong wind and we would be coated in icy lake water.”

“It was your idea. And I wasn’t aware we were talking about doing any of those things together.”

His posture didn’t change and his expression was the same neutral gaze, unblinking and in control. It took all she had not to just get up and crawl out of Harold’s office in humiliation. But if she was any judge of men, which given her ex-husband was questionable at best, there was lust brewing in Jared’s eyes.

Way in the back, but there nonetheless. Plus the nostril flare.

It was enough to keep her in her seat. “Well, I certainly wouldn’t want to do any of those things alone. Would you?”

Candy smiled at him and shrugged out of her jacket, struggling with the sleeves. She ended up wiggling back and forth tugging on the jacket, trying to keep her blouse sleeve in place, until Jared took hold of both sleeves and stripped her of the jacket before she could even take a breath.

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome. And I don’t like to… eat alone either.”

Have mercy. Having spent the last two years wondering why she couldn’t get the least bit aroused, Candy now had her answer. She had been waiting for Jared. And all he needed to do was breathe and she found herself with damp panties. “And in bed?”

“I like to sleep alone. But if we’re talking about sex, then I think it’s obvious I prefer company over solo. What about you?”

She nodded. “I’m in complete agreement.”

For the first time since they’d stepped in to Harold’s office, Jared smile at her. A dirty, dominating smile that made her heart race. “You look like the agreeable type.”

She wanted to cry out that she would be very agreeable for him, but she bit her lip instead and forced her eyes to the computer.

“Question four.” Her voice shattered on a mouse-like squeak and she cleared her throat. “Where do you most like your partner to touch you?”

She dropped her feet to the floor and looked closer at the screen. Was that really what it said or had her personal thoughts done a wishful Freudian voice-over?

Jared said, “What the hell kind of question is that?”

One on the couples guide to harmony, apparently. Candy had read the question right.

“Harold can’t possibly expect us to answer that. And we’ve never even touched each other, so it’s completely invalid.”

“Unless we just answered where we’d like, ah, someone to touch us. Or each other, hypothetically.” Candy shocked herself right out of the chair. She bounced up and paced around the backside of her chair, hiding behind Jared.

Of all the tacky, inappropriate, over-the-top things to say. He was going to give her a quarter to go buy a clue. He wasn’t interested and throwing herself at him was just embarrassing them both.

She knew it. It was coming. Where was a whale’s mouth to dive into when you needed one? And why did he rattle her so much? While he didn’t seem to like her, it did seem like he thought she was attractive. So she needed to stay the course. Take advantage of the opportunity.

Candy fiddled with the top button on her shirt, debating her next move.

Jared swiveled around to face her and said, “Well, that’s easy enough for a man to answer. I think we all want to be touched in the same place. And I’m not talking about our feet.”

She was sure he wasn’t.

Before she could think of a response that didn’t make her sound like a priss or a porn star, but a nice I’m interested in-between, Jared spoke again, his eyes dropping to her chest, where she rubbed the blouse button like a worry stone.

His hand was slung over the back of the chair, and his shirt strained across his muscular chest. “So, if someone was going to touch me, that’s where I would want it to be.”

Candy forced herself to stop pacing. “Why don’t you type that in on the assessment then?”

Jared let out a laugh. It was the first time she had ever heard him amused enough to laugh. It was a deep rich sound that washed over her and sent her goosepimply.

“I’ll do that.” He grabbed the laptop and typed with both hands, fast and efficiently. “What should I put for your answer? Where would you want to be touched, Candy?”

Everywhere. Times three.

“Weeell,” she drawled the word out, hoping time would give her courage. She knew what she wanted, it was just a matter of saying it out loud.

Squeezing her fists shut tight, Candy tossed back her hair and went for broke. “My breasts.”

Jared wasn’t looking at her, but she saw his fingers pause over the keyboard. His voice was low, persuasive. “Would you say specifically your nipples, or all of your breasts, Candy? And touched with hands, or with a tongue? I want to be as accurate as possible you know, for the counseling.”

Candy gripped the back of chair to prevent falling down in a dead faint. Lord, the man was sexy even on the back of his head. “Both. Everything.”

The fingers resumed. “Got it.”

Then Jared scrolled down the screen. “Let’s see about question five.”

Candy had never been a drinker, but she felt the sudden need for a splash of bourbon. Or a barrel of bourbon. She had started this, aided by Harold’s ridiculous intimacy quest, and she needed to see it through. Her crotch demanded it.

“I’m ready.”

“What is the difference between sex, love, and romance?” Jared snorted. “Oh, this one’s easy.”

“Really?” Leaning against her chair Candy said, “So what’s your answer?”

Jared didn’t even look up at her as he typed. “Sex you do, love you feel, and romance you say.”

Well he just had it all figured out. Candy protested. “That’s not true. You can do love, too, by showing someone you love them with a gift or a thoughtful gesture. You can say you love someone. You can show romance with a candlelit dinner and you can feel romantic. Sex you most certainly can feel, and talking and romance are all involved in sex as well. They’re all interconnected but very different.”

As anyone could see.

Jared glanced at her with a pained expression. “You’re right. I was wrong.”

His answer startled a laugh out of her. “What?”

“Isn’t that what you want me to say? We could argue, but I figure this just saves us time.”

“No, I don’t want you to just agree with me. I want to hear your opinion. I want to discuss it, have an exchange of ideas and possibly learn something new from your knowledge.”

He looked doubtful. “No woman has ever wanted to hear what I have to say. Not really.”

Candy looked down at him, taking in his gorgeous blue eyes and black hair. The way his cheekbone was so strong and sensual, narrowing down into a proud chin and thin lips. She had a sudden insight. Women probably treated Jared the way men treated her.

Like an object. Like an arm ornament.

The rush of understanding made her blurt out, “I want to hear what you have to say. Whether I agree or not.”

His eyes swept over her, and she stood still, defiant, daring him to shut her down. Let him frown at her now and she wouldn’t mind so much.

He didn’t frown. He paused, pursed his lips together, then shook his head slightly. Finally he said, “I’ll keep that in mind.”

It was enough for her.

He added, “But we’re sticking with my original answer because yours is too hard to type in.”

Candy laughed and leaned forward. She was edging closer to him, hoping to innocently glance at the screen over his shoulder. Which would force her to brush against him, of course.

“Oh, look, there’s a bonus section between questions five and six. It’s a tip on keeping the romance alive.” Jared shook his head. “Damn, what the hell was Harold thinking? Didn’t he even look at this thing?”

“I doubt it.” Candy put her hands on the back of his chair to steady herself and bent over his shoulder. If she turned to the right, their lips would be a smidgen apart. But for now, she looked straight at the screen.

“What’s the tip?”

Jared turned. His breath hit her cheek. “Looking for some advice?”

She shrugged and the movement caused her breasts to brush against his back and shoulder. “You never know. It could be something good.”

“It says you should massage your partner. Starting at the feet and working your way up, with special emphasis on erogenous zones.”

Candy thought about Jared’s hand massaging up her legs, zeroing in on her inner thighs and settling in for a long, hot haul.

“They also suggest the use of edible massage oils, with flavors like chocolate and raspberry.”

Oh, Lord. The idea of him licking chocolate sauce off of her nipple contributed to her increasingly damp panties problem. If she spent much more time with Jared she was going to have to start carrying a spare pair.

Candy turned. Jared was watching her. His lips were very much close enough to touch. To lick. To kiss.

She whispered, “It sounds sticky.”

The smell of coffee rushed over her as he breathed, a little harder and faster than normal. Candy pulled her bottom lip into her mouth and tugged.

He said, “It sounds delicious.”

“If you’re hungry.”

“Oh, I’m hungry, Candy. It’s lunch time, you know.” Jared’s eyes dropped to her lips.

He was going to kiss her, he was going to kiss her, he was going to… turn back to the computer.

Dang it. Where was a jar of chocolate massage oil when she needed it?

She was going to have to start carrying that around in her purse along with the spare panties.