Sean knew the exact moment when the truth hit her, and Isla realized he hadn’t even planned on kissing her. Her eyes flew open, her cheeks turned pink, and her lips parted in silent shock. She tried to pull away right after, but Sean expected this, and his fingers had already wrapped around her wrist to pin her hand on the table. She tried to struggle, but his hold kept her in place, with her wonderfully heaving breasts pressed against the edge of the table.

“You---” Isla searched her mind madly for some smart snappy retort to throw back at him, but dear Lord, what could she say without making it seem like she was disappointed he had not kissed her?

Sean reluctantly drew his gaze away from the mesmerizing sight of her breasts. Soon, he promised himself, he would have all the time in the world to worship those twin bounties. But for now, he could keep himself entertained by teasing and taming his redheaded goddess.

“I’m sorry, ma’am.” Sean’s meek tone made Isla feel like a sex maniac. “But my Mama told me I can only kiss the girl I’d take as my bride.”

Isla’s jaw dropped open. His mama told him what? Her incredulous gaze flew to his handsome face, and that was when she saw his lips curve into a smirk…just before his eyes slowly dipped low to linger caressingly on her chest.

Oh! This time, she jerked back and managed to forcefully yank her hand out of his hold even as she felt her breasts rising and falling at a more rapid rate. “You were playing me,” she accused, torn between vexation and chagrin. He was making it so obvious now that he wanted more than a kiss from her, but at the same time he had made it very clear to both of them that she wanted the same thing – and he knew it.

“I thought you needed a reminder of why I’d make a better husband than the idiot you used to date.” Sean’s tone was unrepentant.

But was he, really, Isla wondered. “I’m not completely convinced things will work---”

“Because you didn’t expect to find me attractive?”

“I do not---” A finger on her lips stilled the rest of her words.

“It’s alright, darlin’.” Sean’s tone was saintly. “You don’t need to pretend. I feel the same way, and I think it’s going to make an exciting marriage for us.”

Isla forgot what she had to say at Sean’s last words. An exciting marriage? She had always dreamt of a white wedding with Jonathan, but if anyone had asked her to describe how she envisioned her post-wedding life with Jonathan would be, ‘exciting’ definitely wasn’t the first word that would come to her mind.

A chuckle from Sean had her gaze flying back to him, and he drawled, “It’s finally dawned on you, hasn’t it?” His lips curving in a smirk at the way her brows furrowed, he said lazily, “Life with that idiot would have been a complete bore.”

“Jonathan’s not an idiot,” Isla felt obliged to point out.

“And yet you know who I’m talking about.”

She choked back a laugh. “Very funny.”

“I aim to be,” Sean murmured solemnly, “as I promised my future wife to always have her smiling.”

Her stupid heart thrilled at his words even though she was pretty sure it was only his way of flirting with her.

This is crazy, Isla thought.

The two of them were polar opposites. There was no way a marriage between them would work.

Or so she tried to convince herself.

But when Sean leaned forward to cup her chin, Isla couldn’t even find the strength to pull back.

“Stop hurting my feelings, sugar.”

Gnashing her teeth against the darkly coaxing tone of his voice, Isla muttered, “Like you really have any to speak of.”

But this only made Sean give her another one of his sinfully enthralling smiles. “I always do, where my beautiful wife-to-be is concerned.”

Isla wanted to bang her head against the table. Oh. Dear. Lord. She knew. She absolutely knew he was just laying it on thick now, but even so her stupid body still quivered at his words.

“No more thinking of another man from now on, sugar. Will you promise me that?” Although the words were uttered in his usual rich Texan drawl, the command in it was unmistakable.

Isla’s lips pursed.

“Isla?” Sean’s tone was pleasant, but the possessive glint in his eyes told her he meant business.

Isla started grinding her teeth against each other. No. Just no, no, no! She was not going to obey him. She was not.

“I’m waiting, darlin’.” The fingers on her chin started to move.

They weren’t married yet, and here he was commanding Isla like he was already her lord and master. So no, no, no –

He started to trace her lips, and Isla’s heart threatened to leap out of her chest. Pulling back, she muttered, “Okay, fine.” She would promise him the moon with it – anything, really – as long as it would stop him from touching her like that. “But you have to promise me the same thing.” Glowering at him, she spelled out, “And that means you are not allowed to think of any other woman either.”

Isla’s tone was challenging, but Sean wasn’t fooled. The shadow of fear in her gaze was too easy to read, and Sean had the strongest urge to drive his fist into Jonathan Swanson’s pretty-boy face. One day, he would make that idiot pay for hurting Isla. But for now what was more important was bringing a smile back to Isla’s bright green eyes – and Sean knew exactly what to say to make it happen.

“You have nothing to worry on that score.” Sean’s voice was solemn. “And if a moment ever comes you’re in doubt, remember this---”

She held her breath.

“My body is yours to command.”

Isla sputtered. That was what he wanted her to remember? Seriously?

“Anytime, anywhere, sugar – just tell me when you’ll be needing proof of your ownership of my body, and I’ll be on it faster than a prairie fire with a tail wind.”

“Sean!” Shockingly erotic images flooded her mind at his too-explicit words, and Isla found herself torn between helpless amusement and a sense of attraction that only grew frighteningly stronger in every moment she spent in his company.

Soft footsteps alerted them then to another person’s presence, and seeing the server approach with their orders had Isla automatically moving back and straightening in her seat, wanting to at least make things look proper between them on their first meeting.

Unfortunately for Isla, Sean had other plans in mind, and he waited until the server had started unloading his tray before reaching to cup her knee under the table.

A tiny gasp escaped Isla as her back shot ramrod straight, and the server – a young, thin man whose nameplate identified him as John – almost dropped the glass he was holding. “Ms. Bouchard? Are you alright?”

Isla shot Sean a furious glare, but this only made him squeeze her knee, which was now so sensitive she felt like her skin had been permanently scalded by his touch. “I’m f-fine, sorry.” She pasted a reassuring smile on her lips even as she quickly shoved Sean’s hand off her knee. “I was just, umm, so wonderfully surprised at how lovely everything looks.”

And thankfully, the food set before her was beautifully presented, a fancy fish-and-chips dish that cost a whopping four hundred dollars, with a half-dozen strips of the finest quality of Bluefin tuna coated with champagne batter and hand-cut fries cooked in goose fat and black truffle.

“I’ll make sure to send the chef your compliments, Ms. Bouchard,” John assured her with a beam. He then turned to Sean and took off the silver lid with a flourish. “Your order, sir.”

“How…appetizing.” This from a stoic-sounding Sean, and Isla had to cough several times when, upon following the direction of his stony gaze, she found herself staring at the most awful-looking dish. It was just so…green. The pasta, the meatballs, even the mashed dump on the side – everything was so…green.

“It’s exactly as you requested, sir,” the server hastened to assure the restaurant’s most important guest. Taking out the memo provided to him, he cleared his throat and read, “Spaghetti that’s green but not pesto, hence our chef’s special avocado-flavored pasta sauce and all-organic meatballs made from a mixture of bitter gourd, mushroom, and okra, and finally, mashed cauliflower and celery roots with a generous serving of Pont L’Eveque.”

In the act of taking a sip from her glass, Isla nearly snorted her water instead as she desperately tried to hold back her laughter. If what she recalled of her French cooking class was correct, wasn’t that last bit referring to a particularly fancy variety of cheese that also happened to smell like a pair of old socks?

Placing her glass back on the table, she waited until the server left before asking with a grin, “Would it be safe for me to think Mrs. Carmichaels doesn’t like you too much?”

“Is it that obvious?” Sean asked dryly. Everything that happened and would happen in the next two days – from the very moment he had “fallen head over heels” at his first glimpse of Isla at the lobby and including even their orders for their “first” date at Alexio’s – had been pre-planned by the CEO of Heart’s Match.

“You must have done something horrible,” she guessed.

He grimaced. “Let’s just say she still hasn’t forgiven me for dating her sister and then breaking up with her after three weeks.

Isla’s amusement turned into shock. “Three weeks?”

“We were thirteen.” Isla’s aghast expression made Sean feel slightly defensive. “No self-respecting thirteen-year-old boy would even think of sticking to one girl at that age.”

“Uh huh.”

Sean shot her a dry look. “Were you this suspicious towards your brainless ex?”

“Didn’t you say I wasn’t supposed to think about him?” she hedged.

“That’s not an answer to my question, sugar,” he taunted.

No, it wasn’t, and Isla made a face at the way he had so easily turned the tables around, and she now felt incredibly foolish at how naïve she had been with Jonathan. The truth was that everyone had been dropping obvious hints about Jonathan in the weeks leading to their breakup, but she had refused to see the writing on the wall until it was too late, and she had to literally walk in on Jonathan and her sister making love ---

Stop. Isla quickly hit the brakes on her thoughts. If she wasn’t careful, she would end up wallowing in thoughts of self-pity again, and hadn’t she come all the way up to Aspen to do the exact opposite?

Gesturing to his plate, she said with false gaiety, “Our food’s getting cold.”

The too-cheerful tone from his would-be wife was easy to interpret, and as he saw the way she fed herself a bite of fish in a mechanical fashion, Sean once again battled against the urge to beat her ex into a pulp. But more than that, he had an even greater need to curse her entire family for their cruelty and insensitiveness towards Isla.

Thanks to Heart’s Match’s extensive profile report, Sean knew that Isla’s parents had convinced their older daughter it was better to cover up Jonathan’s infidelity for the sake of their future grandchild. And so instead of the truth of Jonathan and India’s perfidy coming out, everyone in San Diego believed it was Isla’s selfish pursuit of career advancement that had pushed her boyfriend to find comfort in her sister’s arms.

Sean’s gaze drifted to Isla, thinking that the emerald color of her eyes suited her, but the pain he glimpsed in them did not. He wanted it gone, and so with all things he wished to eliminate in his life, Sean wasted no time in making his move.

Nodding towards the strip of fish she had stabbed with her fork, he asked casually, “How is it?” He had never deliberately sought out to charm a woman before - in truth, there had never been a need – but for his future wife, he was simply going to have to make an exception. He would make her talk, smile – he was determined to do whatever it took to make her forget her sadness.

“It tastes heavenly---” Isla wrinkled her nose. “As it should, considering how much it costs---” She stopped speaking, realizing too late how her words could be misconstrued.

“It’s just our first date, sugar---” Sean pretended to wince. “And you’re already being a cheapskate?”

His words almost made her sigh in relief. Oh, thank God he wasn’t being sensitive about the whole thing. Another condition set in their contract was for Isla to shoulder a majority of the expenses for this weekend as well as the agency fee, leading her to believe that Sean’s income was a lot smaller than hers.

“So…” Isla cleared her throat. “We never got around to talking about money.”

“That’s because there’s nothing to talk about, darlin’.”

Isla cringed. Crap. She hadn’t meant to make him admit he had no money to speak of like that. “It doesn’t matter that you don’t,” she told him quickly.

“Doesn’t it?”

Isla’s guilt grew at Sean’s bleak note. “I promise it doesn’t---”

“Because now that I’m thinking about it, maybe you’re right and we shouldn’t be married. I’d be a failure as a man if I force you to live a life that you’re unaccustomed to.”

By now, Isla felt like she could hang herself. “You have it all wrong, Sean. You know how things turned out between Jonathan and me. By marrying you, I was hoping you’d take care of me…in a different way.” She could barely get the words out – they were such a huge lie – but she had no choice, knowing it was the only way to salvage Sean’s pride.

“A different way?” Sean slowly ran a hand over his face, knowing that his beautiful redhead would assume he was struggling with hurt pride - when in reality all he wanted was to make sure she didn’t accidentally catch him smiling.

“Like, you know, emotionally?”

Sean let his eyes widen. “You mean that, sugar?”

Isla tried her best not to throw up. “Absolutely.”

“To help you get over Swanson?”

“Exactly.” She could say anything at this point as long as it would have him forget her stupid faux pas.

“And sexually, I presume.”

“Yes, of course---” Wait. An appalled look crossed Isla’s face when she realized what she had accidentally agreed to.

“I’m glad we had this talk, sugar,” Sean said warmly.

Dismay welled up inside of her, and Isla hurriedly protested, “But I’m not---I didn’t---”

“I feel much better now,” he assured her, “knowing that I won’t be a burden to you. I’ll be counting the number of times you have to pay, darlin’---” He wagged his brows suggestively. “And I’ll make sure to help you the same number of times.”

Great. Just great. She might have succeeded in restoring Sean’s ego to a healthy state, but in the process she had also inadvertently turned herself into an emotionally imbalanced, sex-starved tramp in his eyes.

Isla cleared her throat. “Look, I think we’ve got our wires crossed---”

“Did we?”

“I didn’t really mean I’d need you to---” Her gaze narrowed.

There was something about the glint in his eyes that seemed suspicious…

And then she saw him smirk, and all at once Isla realized he had been playing her all along.

Again.

“You brute!” She wanted to sound angry, but the laughter that bubbled past her lips completely took the edge off her words.

“I love the sound of your laugh, sugar. You should do it more often.”

“I hope you mean that,” she grumbled, “since you seem to have a knack for cracking me up.”

“I always mean what I say, and I’m willing to bet it’s not the only part of you I’ll end up loving before this day’s over.”

“Sean!” What an irrepressible flirt he was, and oh, there it was again, too – that look in his eyes which made him seem like he was just seconds away from pouncing on her, and another peal of laughter slipped out at the way Sean grinned unabashedly at her.

“Sean.” This time, she uttered his name in warning.

“Isla.” His voice, on the other hand, was of pure silken mockery, and one made more beguiling by the way he deliberately stretched his legs under the table until his knee bumped against hers.

Crap. It was the most short-lived of contact, but it was enough to have her entire body tingle – the way it had never done before. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Seducing you, ma’am.”

“Are you crazy?” She didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. He was so shameless!

“It’s part of Charlotte’s script,” Sean said innocently. “We’re supposed to act madly attracted to each other---”

“That doesn’t mean you have to seduce me in public---”

“Then you’re saying I can have my wicked way with you once we’re alone?”

She started to answer but ended up choking again, with Sean’s legs once again moving under the table, this time trapping her legs between his. He felt long, hard, and muscular against her softness, and heat wrapped around her like an insidious, unstoppable force meant to take over her body.

Hating and fearing the way he made her feel so out of control, she muttered under her breath, “You’re horrible.”

But hazel eyes only gleamed back at her. “I’m sorry to hear that as, on the contrary, I think you’re perfect.”

She lifted her chin even as something inside her turned warm at his too-sweet words. “Spare me, please. I’m not buying it.”

“Because your ex’s known you your entire life and he’s never told you anything even half as sweet?”

Isla’s teeth gnashed against each other. Why was he so good at reading her mind? She opened her mouth to deny his words, but Sean’s sudden movement served to distract her again. He had just pulled back, his legs freeing hers from its trap, but even before she could let out a sigh of relief, Isla’s second round of torture had already begun, with his hand reclaiming her still-sensitive knee.

“No,” she hissed in alarm under her breath. “Don’t---”

But then his fingers started to move up her thigh, and her voice trailed off.

Jonathan had never touched her leg before.

And yet now…this man who was and wasn’t a stranger had his hand on her thigh.

“Your body’s shaking, sugar,” Sean crooned. “Have I upset you?”

Isla could only glower. Sean had started stroking her thigh as he spoke, and the indolent caresses had robbed her of the ability to speak.

“Would you like me to stop touching you?”

The sudden flush of color in her cheeks should have been answer enough, and perhaps it would have been so for a far less dominating man.

Unfortunately for Isla, it was all or nothing with Sean, and his next words made this all the more obvious.

“I want to hear you say the words, sugar. Do you want me to stop or not?”

Yes. Say yes. She had to say yes and tell him to stop. But in the end, the remembered, pervasive heat of his touch won over her sanity, and Sean’s fingers resumed its stroking caress the moment she shook her head.

Her eyelids fell closed.

Oh, how good his touch felt on her skin…

So dangerously good…

But for some reason, it was no longer enough –

“You want something else, don’t you?”

Her eyes flew open. How did he know? How did he always know?

“If you want something else, something more---” His voice was rough and thick. “You only have to say it.” His fingers moved up to curve around one jean-clad thigh, and she hastily swallowed back a whimper as he squeezed her too-sensitive flesh. “My body is yours to command, sugar.”

Oh, how he tempted her…

“Simply speak of what you wish, Isla.”

Just this once, she would let herself surrender and do what he ordered.

And so she heard herself say, “Kiss me.”