Triplets Found: The Virgin's Makeover / Take a Chance on Me / And Then There Were Three

How many more men would she have to kiss before finding one who made her heart flutter and her body sing the way Sullivan did?

Sullivan had dozed off in the chair shortly after Lissa left. And he’d awakened only moments ago.

He hadn’t purposely turned the lights off. He just hadn’t gotten up to turn any of them on. Not even after Martinelli’s car pulled up.

And like a voyeur in the dark, Sullivan couldn’t help but watch the couple from his seat on his deck.

Lissa had kissed the guy. And not just a peck between friends.

All right. So it wasn’t the kind of kiss that got a man’s blood pumping, but Martinelli was too suave to press for more on the first date. But that didn’t mean the middle-aged vintner didn’t want more from her. Or that he wouldn’t make a bolder move next time.

A sense of betrayal washed over Sullivan, although he wasn’t sure why. He and Lissa hadn’t made any lifetime promises. So he suspected it was some of the leftover baggage from his divorce that made him want to throw a punch or two at the salt-and-pepper-haired vintner.

There was no other reason for Sullivan’s senseless resentment. So why did he feel an ache in his gut and a hole in his chest?

He watched as Lissa made her way across the lawn and over the bridge. All the while, he sat.

And waited.

“Thanks for looking after Barney,” she told him, as she stepped onto the deck.

“You’re welcome.”

She took Barney from his lap and held the puppy in front of her, like a shield, while the little pup wiggled and squirmed to give her a couple of wet kisses on the chin. “I guess I’d better take him home.”

“Are you coming back?”

“Not tonight. I’ll see you in the morning. I need to get a good night’s sleep.”

Sullivan needed a good night’s sleep, too. But he doubted he’d get one.

And he cursed under his breath for letting her go without a fight.

The next day, neither Lissa nor Sullivan brought up the subject of Anthony Martinelli, the dinner date or the disappointing kiss.

Nor did they mention making love to each other again.

Instead, they focused on work, on marketing, on ads and television commercials.

Still, getting back in Sullivan’s good graces—and in his bed—was never far from Lissa’s mind.

“I’ve asked an artist to meet us tomorrow morning,” he said.

“An artist?”

“To sketch the image of the virgin for the label.” He leaned back in his chair. “You’re not going to back out, are you?”

“No. I guess not. But you said just my face, right?”

He slid her a playful grin, his gaze warming her straight to the core. “That’s what I said. But another female model might not do your body justice.”

Her cheeks warmed. And so did her heart. The tension between them was easing, which was good. She didn’t like the idea of dealing with Sullivan on a strictly business level.

“Then maybe I ought to pose,” she said, wondering if the decision would irritate him. Especially since she suspected the kiss she’d shared with Anthony had annoyed him, even if he never mentioned it. “Are you sure it won’t bother you if I do?”

“No. It won’t bother me a bit if you strip down in front of the artist.”

She found that surprising. And disappointing. The couple of times she’d suspected Sullivan might be feeling a bit jealous had actually pleased her. Not that she wanted him to be a bossy and possessive brute. But maybe, deep in her heart, she hoped their relationship wouldn’t be shallow and based only upon lust. Of course, that didn’t mean she wouldn’t be realistic about the future of an affair destined to end when his job was done.

“I didn’t know you’d already started scouting an artist,” Lissa said. “Where’d you find him?”

“Her.” Sullivan tossed Lissa a crooked smile. “The artist I want to use is a woman. I thought you’d be more comfortable.”

Or would he feel more comfortable?

Lissa was probably reading way too much into this, but it felt good to think Sullivan might be a wee bit territorial about their relationship, their intimacy.

“All right. I suppose modeling in the nude won’t be so bad after all.” Lissa stood to stretch the muscles that kinked in her neck, then moved to the window to peer outside.

What she needed was some exercise, some fresh air. Being cooped up in the office for days on end was getting to her.

As she walked, a squeak sounded when she stepped on something small and rubbery. Barney had left one of his chew toys in the middle of the floor.

“Hey, Barn, you’d better come get your rubber duckie.” She scanned the office, but didn’t spot the little rascal. Where’d he go? “Barney?”

Sullivan, who sat at the desk, looked up from the ad layout he’d been working on. “I haven’t seen him since this morning. Maybe he curled up and fell asleep.”

They scouted around the office, looking in every nook and cranny. But Barney was nowhere to be found.

“Maybe he slipped outside when your mother brought us sandwiches and iced tea,” Sullivan said.

“I’d better go look for him.” She strode to the door, with Sullivan on her heels.

Twenty minutes later, they still hadn’t found the puppy. They’d checked the pond, where every unruffled duck and swan was present and accounted for.

“I don’t know where else to look.” Lissa tried to keep the worry from her voice, but she’d become very attached to the playful, loving little dog.

“We’ll find him.” Sullivan nodded toward the house. “Maybe he followed your mother home.”

As they neared the side of the yard, the gate was open. Sullivan pointed. “There he is. By the garden shed. But it looks as though he’s gotten into something.”

“Imagine that,” Lissa said. Barney had a penchant for mischief. But as she drew closer, she noticed a frothy green coat of saliva on his snout.

She picked him up, holding him at arm’s distance so the goop wouldn’t stain her blouse. “What did you eat?”

Sullivan pulled open the shed door and peered inside. “Bad news. Look.” Sullivan pointed to a chewed up box of rat poison.

“Oh, my God. No.” She hugged the puppy close, no longer worried about her blouse.