Wine, Tarts & Sex

“If you overheard anything, chump, I suggest you forget it,” Carmine’s messenger growled, his gaze flicking briefly to Ben’s white-knuckled grip on a printer cartridge. “I know where you work, and I can find out where you live. Capisce?”

“Yes, sir.” No way was he going to even attempt a lie. But whatever the man had told Leo-and he had a good idea-had made Leo real cheerful. He could hear him whistling from here.

In fact, Leo’s good cheer was so pronounced that when he called Ben into his office, he actually smiled and said, “You’re doing a good job. I just wanted you to know.”

Ben’s jaw literally dropped at both Leo’s smile and his astonishing praise. Recovering quickly, he said, “Thank you, sir. It’s a pleasure to work for you.”

“I’ll be out tomorrow morning. Cancel my appointments. And take the morning off yourself. All work and no play, young man-you lose your edge,” Leo jovially announced with a wave of his hand. “And make an appointment with Dan Wygren for late afternoon. I’ll go to his place. Make it five o’clock.” Reaching over, Leo flicked his phone on, leaned back in his chair and, quietly humming under his breath, looked up at Ben as though he’d suddenly become a stranger.

Ben knew that cold, blank look; he backed out of Leo’s office.

Leo hardly noticed. He was busy calculating the money he’d saved by having Carmine appropriate the flash drive. As if he’d even consider giving that bitch fifty million dollars, he resentfully thought. Or think of giving up his son. Janie Tabor, soap opera diva, didn’t have a clue who she was dealing with. He smiled evilly. She’d find out soon enough.

The minute he picked up his package with the flash drive, he’d let her know how a professional played the game. Take no prisoners. That’s how a winner won. She wouldn’t know what hit her by the time he was finished with her.

As for the information stored on the flash drive, he and Dan would decide tomorrow afternoon how best to cover his tracks. This near disaster had forced him to contemplate some worst-case scenarios, and he didn’t like the risk exposure. They would have to strategize on better options to screen or launder his financial assets. Safer alternatives that didn’t pose the possibility of jail time.

But right now he felt like celebrating. Punching his direct line to Hannah, he exuberantly said, “Cancel your meetings, baby. I’m taking you out on my yacht.”

His exhilaration was so out of character, Hannah experienced a thrill of excitement as she set down the phone. Would she have her engagement ring by the end of the day? Was all her planning and hard work finally going to pay off?

Dare she call him back and ask the reason for his good spirits?

Could she call Ben and ask him?

Would he answer her if she asked?

Nothing ventured, nothing gained. She hit the speed dial for Ben.

When he picked up, she purred, “Dear Ben, would you happen to know why Leo is in such high spirits?”

“I wouldn’t tell you if I did.” Hannah Reiss was the reason the word unscrupulous had been invented.

“You shit,” she snapped. “Once I’m engaged to Leo, I’ll have you fired!”

“I’ll worry about that when the time comes.”

“What the hell does that mean?”

“It means you’re not engaged yet.”

She slammed down the phone.

Ben didn’t care. Right now, Hannah Reiss was the least of his problems. Should he rethink his sell order with Cal? Did he have to buy everything back? Was Leo going to come out of this on top again? Scowling, Ben began drumming his fingers on his desktop. Everything might still be in flux. Crap. What should he do?

Thirty-two

The next morning, Liv decided to ride with Jake when he drove into the cities. His restaurant crew’s flight was scheduled to land at ten, but Jake wanted to meet with his contractors prior to their arrival.

“This could be a tedious day for you,” he’d warned. “You might prefer staying at the lake.”

“Am I not welcome?” Liv had teasingly inquired.

“You’re always welcome. I was being polite.” He no longer even questioned wanting her in his life, although he’d chosen not to scrutinize the reasons why.

While Jake was opting for his usual avoid and evade when it came to relationship issues, Liv was trying to deal with her equally novel feelings. She’d always prided herself on her independence and her ability to say, It was nice; don’t call me, I’ll call you. And now, like some infatuated young girl, all overwrought and adoring, she found herself wanting Jake to stay. It was unnerving, bewildering, messing with her mind big time, because if Mr. Wonderful had just walked into her life, there wasn’t much chance he’d be staying.

Damn.

She stole a quick glance at Jake as he drove, and the adoration factor kicked in with a vengeance. My Lord, he was gorgeous. How shallow was she to think about falling in love just because he was beautiful? Worse, how stupid, when she’d been around megahandsome men for years in the modeling business. Then Jake turned to her, smiled a luscious, sweet-as-sugar smile, said, “Thanks for coming along,” and she decided maybe it wasn’t his good looks alone that was making her melt with longing. Maybe he was nicer than nice in so many ways.

“My pleasure.” But her utterance was half-breathless, for a wild, leaping desire had fluttered through her senses and settled exactly where she’d rather it didn’t settle, seeing as how they were on the freeway in the middle of rush hour.

“We should try out Chaz’s bed later on.”

He knew. He could always tell. “I’d like that,” she said, trying to breathe normally when her body was already gearing up for action. Urgent lust bathed her vaginal tissue in fluid heat, an equally reckless ache of arousal throbbed deep inside her, and normal breathing was suddenly at issue. “I don’t suppose we could stop,” she whispered.

He glanced at her, then at the traffic. “Everyone’s going eighty, babe. I’d say come sit on me, but this time of day, we’d have a helluva lot of company.” The traffic was three lanes, bumper to bumper, high speed. You could practically reach out and touch the car on either side.

“I know, I know.” She took a deep breath. “Forget it. I’ll be fine.”

He gave her a sympathetic look. She didn’t sound fine; she sounded really hard up. “Look, scoot over. I’ll drive with one hand.”

“Would you really? I mean, thanks-jeez-keep your eyes on the road. Look, no sense in killing ourselves. I’ll survive. I’m not some horny adolescent. I can control myself. ”

He grinned. She didn’t look like an under-control kind of woman right now. He patted the console between them. “Come on, babe. It’s almost an hour into town. Lean back against the door, bring your tush closer, and I’ll give you a ride you’ll remember.”

She’d be stupid to refuse. Then again, maybe he was just being ultracourteous. “Are you just being polite?”

“Fuck no. I wouldn’t offer if I didn’t mean it. Here, babe, bring that sweet sugar within reach.”

She shouldn’t. She should have enough self-discipline to last for an hour or so. In fact, it was ridiculous that they were even having this conversation.

“I don’t know how busy I’ll be once I get there,” he said in warning.

Oh, jeez, why did he have to say that? She’d probably have to spend the whole day looking at him from afar, with tons of people around and no way to have time alone with him.

He shot her a grin. “Hey, this isn’t a moral issue. I’m just being practical.”

“Then, if you don’t mind,” she said, smiling back, “one pragmatic orgasm sounds pretty good.” She was already hitching up her dress and kicking off her sandals. “Lucky I wore a sundress today,” she cheerfully said, slipping off