With His Touch

She wanted to talk business still. “I hope Rionna’s right because we’re considering franchising.”

“Seems to be the thing do,” Conner said. “Big moneymaker.”

“I know. I had a great preliminary meet with a consultant who’s done motel-hotel franchises.”

“Which consultant?”

“Foster Matthews of Matthews and Millhouse. You know them?”

“Heard of them. They’re solid. We looked into the concept, too, but it wasn’t right for us.”

“Why was that?”

“Too many competitors, really, and it would have taken too long to build a franchise team. That’s crucial.”

She nodded. “Foster mentioned that. The next step is for them to come out for a diagnostic workup.”

“Have you targeted any franchisees?”

“Not yet. No.” She wanted Gage’s help for that. They would prepare a package for the regional travel convention coming to San Diego in a month. “Any other advice?” she said.

“Make sure it’s a good fit,” he said, holding her gaze. She could tell he was finished with the topic and was considering how he and she might fit in an entirely different way. “So how did you get into the sex resort business?” he asked.

“That’s a long story.” Her martini arrived and she took a sip, loving the warm sting of the gin.

“I’ve got time.” He smiled at her. Getting warmer.

Except she felt no responding warmth. The vibe was as distant as a faraway train, the whistle barely audible.

So annoying. Sex with Conner would be the perfect palate cleanser after that bed jiggle with Gage. Except she was more hot for what he knew about franchises than for what might happen in bed with him.

She sipped more gin, then told him how Spice It Up came to be, how she and Gage had conceived of it six years ago, opened it after a year of prep and planning.

“Very interesting,” Conner said, though he seemed to be talking about her mouth, not her resort.

Sugar still wasn’t fired up. She glanced toward the bar entrance and noticed Gage walking by, headed for the gift shops. Why, she wondered? He wasn’t the type to forget a toiletry item and he never snacked. He looked so purposeful.

Sometimes watching him made her want to stand still and just breathe—slow the hell down for once in her life. Lying on that bed with him, she’d really seen his face. Strong and broad, with nice cheekbones and dark, steady eyes and a firm mouth. She normally liked soft lips, but—

“Penny for your thoughts,” Conner said, honing in. No sense dawdling over cocktails when they could be upstairs.

“Nothing important,” she said, trying to shake Gage off.

“Then you won’t mind if I interrupt them?” Conner leaned forward for a test kiss that could lead to the wild and lovely ride she usually loved.

His lips looked soft, the way she liked them, but she kept thinking about Gage’s firmer ones. Focus. She was about to get a great kiss.

Which, abruptly, she didn’t want.

She felt a strange longing, like a dream where you searched room after room for something you weren’t even sure you’d recognize if you found it.

She put her hand on Conner’s chest. “I’m sorry. I just realized how tired I am.”

His eyes widened. “Did I—”

“Misjudge me? Not at all. I just changed my mind. I’m sorry. I would disappoint you.”

“Oh, I doubt that.” He smiled ruefully. “Another time?”

“Maybe,” she said, then squinted down the bar. “There’s a very hot woman over there. Her line is erotic pastries, I think. Talk about a great icebreaker.”

He looked where she indicated, then smiled back at her. “You have good taste in women.”

She shrugged. “I help where I can.” She pushed her martini away, not wanting more alcohol when she already felt funny, and stood. “I’d better take off. Listen, if you run into anyone who might be interested in a franchise, would you mind giving them my card?” She handed him several more.

“I might know of a limited partnership. I’ll let you know.”

“Great.”

“Keep us in mind, too. Custom systems at prefab prices.” He smiled, showing her the man beneath the pitch. She liked the guy. She just didn’t want to sleep with him.

He kissed her goodbye—softly and with regret—and she really liked his mouth. “Get some sleep.” He cupped her cheek.

“I will.” What the hell was the matter with her? She might not be at a sexual peak, but she sure as hell wasn’t in a slump. She knew her body, knew her needs. She handled her own O, as a matter of fact, and always had.

Maybe she needed her thyroid checked.

She was uncomfortably aware that the Water Bed Moment was proof positive that her libido was in full working order. Something else was going on here and she wasn’t happy about it.

2

THE GIFT BOX CRAMMED UNDER one arm, Gage froze in the bar doorway and watched a guy kiss Sugar right on the mouth.

He was stunned. That Armani-suited bozo was trying to pick her up. And she was letting him. After what had just happened between them even.

That ass couldn’t possibly get Sugar. He’d hit on her because she was hot and lively and fun. But Gage understood the tender woman beneath the fire and bluff.

Motivated by his new feelings, Gage wanted to march in there and knock that lounge lizard right off his stool. Luckily, before he could pull a Neanderthal, Sugar pushed to her feet, smiled goodbye to the guy and walked away—straight for Gage.

He didn’t want her to think he’d stalked her, so he backed up and ducked into an elevator before she saw him.

In his room, he paced, thoughts reeling. What was Sugar up to? Who was that guy? How long before she’d be here for dinner? He looked at his watch. Too long.

He tried to calm down. Everything was ready. He’d worked his plan like the sensible guy he was. He’d bought the leather suit for her and roses in a vase curved like Sugar’s figure. Dinner would arrive in an hour, along with Sugar.

But what if she’d made a date with Mr. Armani? What if he was heading to her room this very minute for a quickie?

She hadn’t been seeing anyone for a few months, Gage knew, but that wasn’t typical. Sugar kept busy to avoid the quiet. Unlike himself, who always took his time. He was too careful, dammit, too slow to act. Look at all the time he’d wasted, without even knowing what he wanted. He’d been doing the breaststroke down the biggest river in Egypt for years and, man, were his arms tired.