Turning Up The Heat

Belatedly, she recalled Heath’s words before his mouth claimed hers. I have a plan. Understanding dawned. “You kissed me to make him jealous.”

“Hope you don’t think that’s too petty or juvenile.”

“Actually...” She recalled the times Cam had praised her as his muse and led her to believe marriage was in their distant future, contrasting those moments with the brutal shock of his announcement that they were “stifling” each other. He hadn’t even had the balls to make a clean break. Instead, he’d suggested they still go out occasionally—which she’d translated as code for wanting a backup sexual partner on the nights nothing better came along. Hell, no. “That was awesome.”

She just wished she’d realized sooner that Heath’s kiss was only playacting. As she recalled the greedy way she’d clutched at him and how her toes had curled inside Gwen’s borrowed stilettos, embarrassment rippled through her. Way to come on like a sex-starved hussy. She deeply regretted the loss of the martini she’d left behind.

“Thank you,” she told him. “But you didn’t have to do that.”

“Kissing a beautiful woman is no hardship.”

Heath thinks I’m beautiful. There was a momentary flush of giddiness before she reminded herself that he was a connoisseur of women. He appreciated many forms and shapes, the way she could savor dozens of desserts from around the world without ever picking a favorite. How many countless women had she heard him call “sweetheart” or “gorgeous”? His compliment, though flattering, wasn’t personal.

“Besides,” he added, frowning in Cam’s direction, “the big jerk had it coming. You were the best thing that ever happened to him.”

“That’s what Gwen said, too.” She was blessed to have such loyal friends, even ones who inexplicably disliked each other. The day Cam had broken up with her, Gwen had partially blamed Heath.

“That business partner makes single life look so glamorous, with his endless parade of women,” her friend had said. “Cam got so distracted by what he can’t have that he took you for granted.” Phoebe didn’t fault Heath, but the “grass is greener” explanation made as much sense as anything else. She’d thought they were happy.

“He is going to regret losing you,” Heath said. “If he thinks you’ve found someone, it might speed up his epiphany.”

Found someone? As in, an actual relationship and not just a quick kiss at a party? “You aren’t suggesting we make him think that you and I are dating?”

“That’s exactly what I’m suggesting.”

She laughed nervously. “No offense, but who would buy that? You’re never seen with the same woman twice.” Oddly, few of his ex-lovers seemed bitter. Most continued to smile and sigh when they saw him. He must be really good in bed. She felt wicked, secretly speculating on his sexual performance while he stood there giving her relationship advice.

The corner of Heath’s mouth curled in a half grin that made her immediately reevaluate her last thought. This man could teach a master’s class in wickedness. Next to him, she was a total novice.

“Why stop at making him think we’re ‘dating’?” he asked. “You want to really get under his skin, let him think we’re having a scorching affair hotter than an Atlanta heat wave. As for no one believing us...” His gaze arrested hers, and he shifted closer. She could almost feel the hard planes of his body through the fabric of her dress. “You’d be surprised at how convincing I can be.”

Oh, Lord, did she need a drink. Not her martini—ice water. Her throat had gone dry, and the crowded room was stifling. “I don’t know.”

Though she didn’t doubt Heath’s persuasive skills, she herself was a terrible liar. And she was still sorting through the aftermath of her breakup. Did she want to win back Cam’s affection? She was furious with him, but there were good memories and years of emotional investment. Either way, her feminine pride had taken a hit when he’d dumped her. Having Heath look at her as if he wanted to lick dark chocolate ganache off her bare skin was heady, yet confusing.

He rocked back on his heels, symbolically restoring the platonic distance between them. “Completely up to you,” he said. “Think about it, and we’ll talk soon. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I should flee. There’s a Kemp sister heading this way.”

She chuckled, but he raised an interesting point about other women. “Heath, if people think you and I are a couple, won’t it hinder your love life?”

“Sacrifice I’m willing to make.” He grinned. “Temporarily. I’ve actually been swamped with work stuff recently and had to reschedule my last two attempted dates. So contrary to my suave reputation, I can go a couple of weeks without a woman on my arm.”

“Still, it seems pretty one-sided, me using you to make Cam jealous.”

“I’m at your disposal. Use me any way you want.”

It was the kind of outrageously flirtatious comment he routinely made. She knew better than to read anything serious into it. He’s a buddy, she reminded herself. He’s not genuinely propositioning you.

Yeah, she knew that. Intellectually. But the reminder would have been a lot more convincing without the memory of that scalding kiss still buzzing through her system.

* * *

“WHAT DO YOU mean Heath kissed you last night?” Gwen went from lazily lounging on the sofa to bolt upright and hyperalert—or as alert as one could look with bed head and flying toaster pajamas. She sounded scandalized, which was ironic considering the details of her own personal life.

Grinning at her friend’s reaction, Phoebe put her empty coffee cup in the sink. Then she made a beeline for her favorite armchair, the first piece of non–garage sale furniture she’d purchased after starting her side business of wedding cakes. Their apartment was modest, but the kitchen met her picky specifications.

“Which part of kissing don’t you understand?” she joked. “His lips, my lips. After the sordid tales of you and the hot stunt guy, I know you’re familiar with the concept.”

Gwen scowled, clearly not amused.

Wow, she really doesn’t approve of Heath. Not for the first time, Phoebe wished that two of her favorite people could get along better. She’d attempted to fix them up last year, thinking they had a lot in common, but the double date with her and Cam had been a massive failure. Even before Gwen’s blasphemous declaration that baseball was boring, Heath hadn’t been his usual charming self. He’d seemed oddly distracted. “Look, it wasn’t a real kiss. Heath wanted to help me make Cam jealous and offered to let me use him.”

A flutter of guilty pleasure went through her. What might a woman do with Heath Jensen entirely under her control?

Gwen shook her head firmly. “You don’t want any part of that. Making sure your ex sees you looking hot is one thing, but mind games are beneath you.”

“Maybe.” She recalled Cam’s stricken expression after he’d seen Heath kiss her and her vindictive delight. Maybe not. “But it’s not like you to judge. You’re the one always encouraging me to be reckless, have an adventure.”

“Yeah, but I figured you’d start small and work your way up. When a person goes skiing for the first time, she doesn’t head straight for the black diamond trails. She starts with the bunny slopes! Heath is no bunny.”

“I know the two of you didn’t exactly hit it off, but Heath would never hurt me.”

“Not intentionally,” Gwen agreed. “But you would be in way over your head trying to fake a red-hot fling with him. Next to that borderline man-whore, you’re a nun.”

“I went out last night in a dress cut down to my navel. I am not a nun.”

“Okay, wrong choice of word. But you have to admit you’re not...” Gwen peered at her with a combination of affection and sympathy. “Like when you talked about your love life with Cam? It sounded comfortable, maybe even a little routine.”

“Maybe I’ve never had a quickie with a ripped stuntman in a makeup trailer, but our sex life was plenty satisfactory!” Oh, there was a ringing endorsement. Hey, baby, wanna get satisfactory? Was that why Cam had left her—because the sex had been boring?

After growing up with a mother who’d done everything she could to impress on her that sex was evil, Phoebe had congratulated herself more than once on not turning out to be phobic. Still, her love life was pretty conventional. There’d been the boyfriend her freshman year in college who’d been as inexperienced as she was. He’d treated her like a princess, but the sex had not been earth-shaking. Then there’d been the bartender she’d dated during her year of working at a bakery. On the nights he worked, he didn’t get home until almost 3:00 a.m., and her predawn shift had started at four. Their sex life had been great...when they were both awake at the same time. Cam was by far the best lover she’d ever had, but now she realized she didn’t have much basis for comparison.

If she’d been more inventive in bed, would she have held his interest longer?

That was a depressing thought.

Phoebe sighed. “I guess instead of making fun of those Weird Ways to Bring Him to His Knees articles in your fashion magazines, I should be studying them for advice.” Then again, why read generic tips written by another woman? Why not get a guy’s opinion? She snapped her fingers. “Or Heath could help me.”

“What? Let’s not do anything hasty.”

“Heath offered to help.” Use me any way you want. “Why not take him up on it?” The more she thought about it, the more sense it made. “Best-case scenario, I win back the man I was planning to spend my life with, after an appropriate period of groveling. Worst case, Cam and I stay split up, but I salvage my pride by making sure he knows I’m not wasting away and I pick up tips on being more seductive. Where’s the bad?”

“In Heath Jensen’s arms,” Gwen said darkly.

There, her roommate was wrong. Because being kissed by Heath had been very, very good. And that had only been a brief preview of his expertise. Her pulse quickened.

How much more of Heath’s sensual skill would she experience firsthand? She glanced across the room to where her phone was charging.

Only one way to find out.