# Stress and The City

Stephanie Rowe

Remove gold foil. Close eyes. Absorb chocolate…And forget the world.Cassie Halloway is definitely not losing it! So she sucked face with a perfect stranger to prove she was over her ex-fiance. So the new guy nearly made her swoon and forget anyone else was around. And so he turned out to be Ty Parker, her latest client. And, okay, so maybe he's just a little engaged to another woman…. Whatever! As a brilliant stress-management consultant, Cassie has everything perfectly under control. And soon she'll be able to face a stress-free Ty with equal calm.After all, there's no problem a little chocolate therapy can't cure…is there?

Dear Reader,

What’s the answer to stress? Chocolate. More stress? More chocolate.

Last fall, as I was eating a pan of brownies after a long day at work, I contemplated what would happen if chocolate disappeared from the planet and I still had to go to work and pretend to be sane. My imagination promptly took off, and soon I had the story of Cassie Halloway, a stress-management therapist with a need for chocolate. Throw in a hot guy with a fiancée and some delusions about love, and you’ve got Stress & the City.

I’ve always been willing to sacrifice my reputation for a bit of levity. What’s pride if you can brighten someone’s day? Writing for Harlequin Flipside allows my true self to emerge: having in-depth conversations with imaginary people, laughing out loud at things only I hear and being able to share them with you. I’m so excited to be a part of Flipside.

The fact that this book won the Romance Writers of America Golden Heart award and caught my editor’s eye (there was no bribery involved, I swear!) gives me hope that you, too, might find yourself laughing at Cassie’s view of the world and climbing on board with her as she goes after true love.

Happy reading!

Stephanie Rowe

## It was official. She’d totally and completely lost all grip on reality and sanity…

Okay, so Cassie had freaked out. It was over. No one had seen it and it was behind her now. It was a cathartic episode she’d obviously needed, but now that she’d had her release, she’d be fine.

From this moment on, she’d be in complete control of her emotions. Calm, controlled and dignified. Reserved, even. People would start calling her the Cucumber because she was so cool.

The Cucumber could handle rejection.

The Cucumber wouldn’t freak if a man stood her up.

The Cucumber could separate the wreck of her soul from her professional life….

Next agenda item for the Cucumber? Deal with the elusive Ty Parker. He thought he could outwit her by following through on his refusal to meet her today?

Hah. He had no idea who he was dealing with. “Ty, better get ready for battle. The Cucumber is not easily dismissed.”

## Stress & the City. Stephanie Rowe

www.millsandboon.co.uk

## ABOUT THE AUTHOR

A lifelong reader of romance, Golden Heart winner Stephanie Rowe wrote her first novel when she was ten and sold her first book twenty-three years later. After experimenting with a legal career, she decided wearing suits wasn’t her style and opted for a more fulfilling career entertaining herself and others with stories of romance, humor and, of course, true love. She currently shares her household with two dogs, two cats and her own hero. When not glued to the computer or avoiding housework, she can be found on the tennis court, reading or inviting herself over to her mom’s house for dinner. You can reach her at www.stephanierowe.com.

To Mom and Dad, for teaching me

I could do anything and for giving me the skills to prove them right.

To Josh, for everything.

To my wonderful agent, Michelle Grajkowski, and fabulous editor, Wanda Ottewell. How do I thank you enough for believing in me?

## Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Epilogue

## 1

“I’M PROUD OF THE FACT I took my honeymoon by myself,” Cassie Halloway announced as she selected an oversize piece of chocolate from the refreshment table. Only three hours off the plane and somehow she’d allowed her best friend, Leonore—better known as Leo—Wethers, to drag her to Gardenbloom, Connecticut’s New Year’s Eve dance. Now that she was here, she regretted her foolish moment of malleability. Not that she didn’t like dances, but it had been so much easier to deny the reality of her life when she was hovering alone by the hotel pool, pretending the puffiness of her bloodshot eyes was actually a new beauty regime highly sought after by New York socialites.

“You should be impressed with yourself,” Leo agreed. “Taking a solo honeymoon is definitely an accomplishment most women can only dream of.”

“Poor deprived souls. I pity them.” Just about everyone Cassie knew in town was here, plus some she didn’t.

Too many people.

Too much noise.

She needed help.

So she broke off a piece of fudge and placed it on her tongue, letting it dissolve in a glorious blend of cocoa and butter.

She was happy…no, delighted everyone she knew was here. She certainly didn’t actually wish to be home alone on New Year’s Eve watching that stupid ball drop and all those idiotic screaming people yelling as if it was actually a good night.…

Hang on. Regroup. Nothing productive could come of her mind descending into negativity. That would lead to misery and depression and then she’d have to create an alternate world just to survive. And then she’d get dizzy and confused, try to eat a fork and end up dancing with a pillar. Then everyone would nod sagely, as if they’d all been right in predicting her complete mental breakdown after the Incident.

More chocolate needed.

Cassie took the largest piece of fudge, jammed it against the next biggest piece and shoved the whole thing in her mouth. Close eyes. Absorb chocolate. She was idolized by men. Worshiped by young girls. Inundated with rich clients all paying their bills ahead of time. A sexy diva with a killer tan. Her strappy sandals might be wildly inappropriate for the frigid December weather and snow on the ground, but they were perfect for showing off tanned feet. And they perfectly complemented the narrow black skirt and off-white angora sweater she’d donned to set off her lusciously golden skin. The entire ensemble also had been selected to make herself look sophisticated and classy. Like a woman to be reckoned with…not a woman who had just returned from a solitary honeymoon.

Yes, indeed. She was recovered and she was a dynamic, sexy single woman.…Ah. She felt better now.

Cassie opened her eyes and managed to smile calmly at her friend. “Is this a new recipe? It’s amazing.”

“As it should be. I’d have no right to call my chocolate shop Blissful Heaven if my creations weren’t heavenly.” Leo picked up a selection with shredded walnuts in it. “Try this one.”

“One is good for me now.” No need to admit she’d already eaten three. Sometimes it was better to deny reality, especially if it might make her question her inner fortitude. “I’m not in need. Yet. Do you have a pocket or something? I’m sure I’ll need it later.”

Later. Like when she ran into that miserable ex-fiancé who had nearly destroyed her life.…No. Be positive. Hmm…she’d need the chocolate later when she ran into the man to whom she owed all sorts of thanks for sparing her from making a horrible mistake.…

Nope. Couldn’t think altruistic thoughts about her ex-fiancé just yet. For now she’d just imagine him with his head chopped off and all would be good.

Leo wrapped the treat in a tissue and slid it into her purse. “For a stress management consultant with a Ph.D. in psychology, you’re awfully uncreative when it comes to managing your own anxiety.”

“So chocolate works best for me. Why is that uncreative?”

“It’s just that you have about a zillion options in your arsenal when you’re helping clients. I find it interesting that chocolate is the only thing that helps you.”

“Maybe I’m just really dialed into myself. Self-aware.” Brilliant, also. And gorgeous and sexy and…

“Or maybe you’re just a chocoholic and you use stress as an excuse.”

“Entirely possible.” Cassie wiped her fingers with a napkin, then tossed it in the trash. “Besides, I’m not stressed. It’s just the cold weather that’s getting to me. Single digit weather and snowdrifts are a bit harsh after the sunny Bahamas.”

“I thought you had bad weather?”

“No, why?” It had been gorgeous blue sky and bright yellow sun. Perfect weather to lure all those honeymooning couples out on the beach every day, cuddling and cooing. And those damn voodoo dolls Cassie had bought in that alley had done absolutely nothing to torture those imbecilic happy couples. Not that she’d really wanted to interfere with their blissful euphoria. It had merely been a scientific experiment designed to help her become an even better stress management consultant. If she’d managed to induce a tear or two from one of those asinine brides…well, all the better. No! She meant she would have gone over and apologized, not relished their suffering. Yeesh!

“You didn’t spend your entire three weeks indoors, pining in misery for the wedding that didn’t happen?”

Cassie stiffened. As if she’d spend a day weeping over that adulterous snake. “I was out in the sun the whole time. Why?”

“Huh.”

“Huh, what?”

“How come you aren’t tanned?”

“What? I’m so tanned.”

Leo raised a blond eyebrow skeptically. “Are you?”

She’d left the Bahamas only this morning. Surely her tan couldn’t have faded already? It was her proof to the world that she was psychologically stable. Recovered. How could anyone with a ravishing tan be anything but an emotional rock?

Okay, so it was a tenuous relationship at best, but it was all she had to work with. Cassie unfastened her gold watch and held out her wrist. “See? Tan line.” Phew.

Leo squinted and lifted Cassie’s wrist up close. “Oh, yeah. I can see a faint mark. If I squint and pretend I’m on hallucinogenic drugs.”

“Funny.” Just what she needed right now: a sarcastic friend pretending not to notice her drop-dead-gorgeous tan. If Cassie wasn’t so self-confident and stable, she might actually believe that Leo couldn’t tell she was tan. And then she’d crumble into a sniveling lump because…

No! She’d promised herself there would be no thinking about cheating ex-fiancé’s tonight. Who wanted a fiancé, anyway? Certainly not her. Nope. She was a movin’ and shakin’ kind of gal who was soon going to be inundated with requests to dance from all the gorgeous rich men at this very fancy affair.

Okay, so it was a school gym. So what? It was still decorated with streamers and balloons. And the DJ was really quite good. At any moment one of those gyrating teenagers or jitterbugging senior citizens was going to realize she was available and come racing across the floor to buy her a drink. Okay, fine. So they’d offer to get her a Coke. It was dark, crowded and loud; therefore, it was a party and the place to be.

Oh, yeah. She could shake with the best of them. Bump and grind. She elbowed Leo. “I think that kid over there wants to ask me to dance.” She nodded toward a skinny redhead with braces. “He’s pointing at me.”

“He was supposed to be one of the ushers at your wedding. He’s pointing you out so everyone will notice you’re here.”

“Oh.” Well. Wasn’t that a kicker? No, that was fine. Let them stare. Cassie lifted her chin. They’d see she was a total diva. “I’m Teflon.”

Leo lifted her eyebrow. “Pardon?”

“I’m Teflon. No comments are going to get to me.”

“Is that one of the lines you feed your strung-out clients?”

“It works.”

“How? By deluding yourself?”

“Delusions can be very effective in managing tension,” Cassie said.

“Doesn’t mean they’re a good thing. Just ask any exjunkie who tried to make love to a motorcycle.”

“What are you talking about?”

Leo grinned. “I have a date with a biker tomorrow night. Gotta get in the mind-set.”

“Sometimes you frighten me.”

“And you scare me all the time. Obviously, that’s why we’re best buds. A perfect match.” Leo peered out into the crowd, no doubt searching for a man with whom she could bring in the New Year, if the low cut of her sweater and the waggle of her hips was any indication.

“So, any hot dates while I was gone?” Leo’s sordid social life would be certain to distract Cassie from the fact that this dance was supposed to be her first appearance in town as Mrs. Drew Smothers and, instead, she was alone, bitter and barely tan. Or that’s how she probably looked to outsiders. Internally, she was overwhelmed with a genuine appreciation for the wonder that was her life.

“Oh, you know. Plenty of dates. None of them hot enough to satisfy a bitter divorced woman like myself.” Leo straightened her spine and narrowed her gaze on a distant corner. “But now that you’re single, you can double-date with me as we conquer the world of single men.”

Cassie’s smile faltered. “I’ve been single for three weeks. After four years of being in a relationship, I’m not ready to date. Especially a biker.”

“I didn’t invite you on that date. I’m keeping him for myself.” Leo peered at her. “I do, however, think you should get out there again.”

“You’re wrong.” What a ridiculous thing to say.

“Am I?”

“Absolutely.” Cassie folded her arms across her chest. “I don’t need a man.”

“You’re afraid.”

“I am not afraid.”

Burned by having her heart puréed by the lecherous viper she had loved for four years and almost married? Maybe…

Afraid of trusting her judgment when it came to men? Only when it came to those who were actually breathing.

Certain she was going to end up a wobbly spinster who had conversations with major appliances on a regular basis because she had no one else to talk to? Entirely possible.

But afraid of dating? Not a chance.

“Ah-hah!” Leo grabbed Cassie’s arm. “I see two hot guys I don’t know. Let’s go introduce ourselves.”

“Guys?” As Leo led her around the edge of the dance floor, Cassie’s chest tightened and her breath began wheezing in her lungs. She leaned back and tried to twist her arm out of Leo’s grasp. “Let go of me.”

“No.” Leo tightened her grip on Cassie’s arm. “You look like an idiot fighting me. Smile and look sexy.”

“I hate you,” Cassie managed to whisper, just before Leo stopped in the darkened corner where two men—wearing suits and sporting broad shoulders and narrow waists—were standing.

“Hi, I’m Leo.”

Both men nodded and grunted something, but Cassie couldn’t hear them over the pounding music and surrounding babble of neighboring party-goers. All she could do was stare at the man on the right. Taller than his friend by at least a family pack of Oreos, his hair was dark, his eyes coal-black, and the shadow of a day’s whiskers framed his jaw.

And amazingly enough, he wasn’t gawking at Leo, drooling for one of her smiles. He was inspecting Cassie in the way a man inspected a woman. Whew. No one had looked at her like that in years.

It must be her single status. She was subconsciously sending out mating vibes that only the sexiest and most worthy men would respond to. Cassie pheromones combined with her gorgeous tan were obviously a powerful combination. See? She didn’t need to be married. This dating thing would be a breeze.

“We’re going to go dance. See you in a little bit,” Leo said, slipping her arm through the elbow of the other man.

“What?” Cassie squawked. Nice, Cassie. Sound a little more panicked about being left alone with the sexiest man she’d noticed in years. Decades even.

So much for the facade of being suave, sophisticated and mentally sound.

Leo was already gone, whirling into the crowd with her latest conquest in tow.

Cassie cleared her throat and tried to think of what a single woman was supposed to say to a devastatingly handsome man at a New Year’s Eve celebration. For the last four years, while she’d been happily taken, she could rattle off brilliantly engaging conversation with anyone. But now that she was single, it was as if her brain had abandoned her to go play Ping Pong and her tongue had gone off to watch the match.

“I’m Ty.” Obviously not suffering from the same affliction as she was, Ty held out his hand and sounded as if he were in complete control of all his faculties.

“Hi.” She shook his hand, startled by the firmness of his grasp. Like a steel vise under the flesh, a clamp that could bind her and trap her in all sorts of wonderfully interesting ways.…

“And your name is?” Ty prompted.

“Oh. Right. It’s…” Why had she let Leo take the fudge with her? “My name…it’s…Cassie.” Phew. The tough part out of the way.

Ty nodded.

She smiled.

The music blared.

Wow, was she a dazzling conversationalist or what? Scintillating. It was astonishing she’d had only the one marriage proposal.

“So, um…”

He took his eyes off the dance floor. “Yes?”

“I…” Where was her brain? “Nice suit.”

“Came straight from work.”

“Work? But it’s…” She glanced at the watch that hid the evidence of her marvelously bronzed skin. Maybe she should switch it to her other wrist. “It’s almost eleven o’clock on a New Year’s Eve. What do you do?”

“Financial consultant.”

“Oh.” Think of an interesting response. “I had a piggy bank when I was a kid.”

He cocked an amused eyebrow. “Was it pink?”

“Yes. I named her Willemina and…” Cassie stopped.

“Oh, wait. You were making fun of me.”

“Not at all. I had a piggy bank of the Pillsbury Doughboy. He’s my inspiration.” But Ty was grinning now, his eyes twinkling.

Cassie grimaced. “Okay, so it wasn’t the smoothest pickup line.”

“You were trying to pick me up?” He shot her a wary glance.

“Pick you up…” Why hadn’t she left her tongue at home tonight? First thing Monday morning, she was having it surgically removed. “No, I meant…um, it was…casual conversation…”

Ty grunted and she felt his eyes on her again. “Where’d you get the tan?”

Cassie couldn’t stop the swell of warmth that surged through her veins. He’d noticed her sun-kissed skin. Even Leo hadn’t noticed. Grab this man and run.

Ack! Shut up, hormones. She wasn’t interested in a man. She was single and damn happy about it. “I just got back from the Bahamas. My honeymoon.”

Her honeymoon? Portraying herself as married to an incredibly handsome man who was perceptive enough to notice her tan? Just plain stupid. Definite choke under pressure. Or it would be if she’d been trying to impress him. Which she wasn’t.

Ty’s gaze flicked to her left hand, one eyebrow quirking when he spotted her bare finger.

Self-consciously, Cassie slid her hand out of view. “Um. It wasn’t actually my honeymoon. I mean, it was supposed to be my honeymoon. I went alone.”

Both of his luxuriously dark eyebrows were raised now and he wasn’t looking at her tan anymore. He was staring into her eyes, as if he really wanted to know what secrets she was hiding.

Or she was hallucinating from too much chocolate.

“How’d you end up going on your honeymoon alone? Sounds like an interesting story.”

“You must be new in town.”

He blinked, probably startled by the change in subject. “Actually, I’ve lived here for six months,” he said. “Why?”

“Are you a hermit? It’s pretty much the only way you could have lived here and not heard about my amazing wedding or lack thereof.”

“That juicy, huh?”

“In comparison to the number of other interesting things that happen in this town during December, yes.” She lifted her brow. “So? Hermit?”

He glanced at her. “I work.”

“You mean, you never get out of the house to socialize so you have no idea what goes on in this town and you have no friends?” Amazing! One person in town with whom her reputation was intact! A glorious feeling!

He narrowed his eyes, obviously not appreciating her free therapy. “So? What happened with your wedding?” He touched her arm suddenly. “Unless you don’t want to talk about it. I didn’t mean to pry.”

Oh, she was definitely going to melt. A seriously hot guy who respected her privacy. What more could a woman ask for?

Maybe being single wouldn’t be so bad, after all.

“Cassie? Is that you?” The voice of her ex-fiancé shattered her fantasy like a rock through a stained glass window.

I don’t hear you.

“Cassie?”

Crud. She’d heard that. Go away.

But the whine of his voice grew closer and she knew the infectious poison wasn’t going to be deflected. He was coming. She slapped her hand against the wall and bent over, bracing herself as her stomach congealed into a sodden lump, dropped to her toes and began to ooze out the soles of her feet.

What a fine time to discover she wasn’t actually ready to face Drew yet. It would have been exponentially more convenient to have that realization before she’d vomited all over his feet. And Ty’s feet. Not that she was actually going to vomit. She was way too emotionally together to do something pathetic like that.

She hoped.

Note to self: sometimes delusions weren’t a good thing. Like thinking she could fly. Imagine if she thought she could fly, and jumped off the Empire State Building. A clear example of when a delusion could be a bad thing.

Or imagine attending a dance where your ex-fiancé would be. Imagine thinking you were prepared to face him, only to learn that no, you actually weren’t.

A great little nugget she’d be sure to incorporate into her future de-stressing strategies.

See? Something good could come of every situation. Was she a plucky survivor or what?

“Are you okay?” Ty’s amused expression had morphed into one of endearingly genuine concern. Or it would have been endearing if she wasn’t feeling so ill. What was up with the chocolate? It obviously wasn’t working exceptionally well at the moment. He touched her shoulder, his hand warm and reassuring through the soft angora. “You don’t look so hot.”

“Thanks. It’s every girl’s dream to be told she doesn’t look hot.” Deep breaths. Deep breaths.

Ty’s cheeks turned a faint red, or at least she thought they did. It was hard to tell in the dim light with her eyes getting all foggy and the room starting to spin. “I didn’t mean it like you didn’t look good. You do look good. Pretty. Not that I noticed. I just meant you look like you don’t feel well.”

She would have patted his arm in consolation, if she weren’t clinging to the wall for dear life. “Just a touch of indigestion. I’m fine. Really.”

“Cassie! It is you.” An unwelcome hand latched on to her arm. “I didn’t realize you were back.”

She saw Ty’s eyes flick over her shoulder, and she knew this was her moment. All eyes in the room would be surreptitiously aimed in their direction, hoping for a scandal, a scene…anything to gossip about.

She could spin around, slam her knee into Drew’s crotch and then saunter off as if she were a total diva. Or she could remember that some people in the room were future clients and might not be all that impressed with a stress management consultant perpetrating violent acts on the weaker sex.

Refusing to contemplate the irony that her emergency stash of chocolate was in Leo’s purse on the dance floor, much too far away to be of any use whatsoever, Cassie took a deep breath and lifted her chin.

Then she plastered a brilliant smile on her face and turned to face her ex-fiancé, Drew Smothers. “Hi, Drew.”

There he was, in his blond glory, his suit that…hmmm…didn’t seem to fit nearly as well as Ty’s did. And he was wonderfully pale, a victim of December in Gardenbloom.

“Didn’t you take our tickets?” he asked.

She frowned. “Yes.”

“Bad weather?”

Bastard. Cassie peeled off her watch and stuck out her wrist. “Any more questions?”

“Oh. I see. Your skin never did take to the sun well, did it?”

“Ty noticed my tan.”

“Ty?” Drew echoed blankly.

Sweet, wonderful Ty settled his left arm around her waist, then extended his right hand toward Drew. “Ty Parker. Nice to meet you.”

Good God. Not only was Ty a total hottie, but he was perceptive, too. Unbelievable.

Drew barely managed a handshake, gawking at Cassie. “He’s…he’s with you? But…I assumed you’d be alone.”

“She’s not.” Ty wrapped his arm tighter around Cassie’s waist, his thumb rubbing almost absently against her hip. And he smelled damn good. Tantalizingly delicious. Like spicy woods. Raw and masculine, yet refined and tender. She inhaled deeply, trying desperately not to be obvious as she prepared to pass out from olfactory bliss.

Maybe she’d add that to her list of de-stressors. Soothing scents…which would obviously differ from person to person.

She knew what worked for her. Maybe she could bottle Ty and keep him on her dresser.

Or by her bed.

Or better yet, in her bed.

“Cassie’s with me,” Ty said possessively, sending chills down her spine.

He swung his arm around her shoulder and hauled her up against his side. The man was like a rock and she fit perfectly under his arm. The heat from his body was so intense that she felt her insides begin to bubble and simmer. “You haven’t introduced yourself, yet,” Ty added. “Always like to meet the folks from my girlfriend’s life.”

His girlfriend?

Drew’s face was hard, his lips a thin line. “I’m Drew.”

“Drew who?” Ty began twirling his fingers in the soft tendrils of hair hanging beside Cassie’s neck, an intimate action that wasn’t missed by Drew. Or by her. She felt as if her knees were going to buckle. Never had Drew’s touch made her feel like all her bones had melted. Never had anyone’s touch made her feel like this. Like…like wow.

Drew sighed impatiently. “I’m Drew.”

Ty glanced blankly at Cassie. “Should I know who he is?”

Hide the grin, Cassie.

Drew’s cheeks were turning an interesting shade of purple, making his head look sort of like a gigantic red grape. “I’m Drew Smothers. The man she was supposed to marry three weeks ago.”

Ty didn’t even react. “Oh. Well, nice to meet you.”

Okay, there was a new definition of the word “hero” in her dictionary. It was Ty. Not only had he recognized a maiden in distress, but he’d also vaulted onto his white steed to rescue her. Not that she needed rescuing, but she certainly wasn’t going to turn down the offer.

She definitely owed him a free de-stressing session or two.

Or maybe she’d just sign over her entire savings to him.

Or maybe she’d pay with her body.

Yeah, right. As if she could even be that wanton. That wasn’t her nature, even for a modern-day knight.

Drew lowered his voice and scowled at Cassie as if Ty, leaning over her shoulder, wouldn’t be able to hear him. “How could you go to another man already? Didn’t I mean anything to you? After four years together, you can just forget about us?”

“Forget? About us?” She was so stunned, she couldn’t string more than two words together at a time. “How can…but you…with her…”

“It was a mistake. A one-time thing. Prewedding jitters. I still love you. It’ll never happen again.”

The absurdity of his claim released the dam and the words came tumbling free. “Prewedding jitters is sitting up all night unable to sleep, wondering if you’re doing the right thing. Prewedding jitters is calling up your fiancée to remind yourself of all the things you love about her. Prewedding jitters is not having sex with another woman the night before your wedding!”

She heard Ty suck in his breath and make a sound as if he was choking.

Okay, so he hadn’t known about the Incident. He did now.

Drew grabbed her hand, ignoring her when she tried to peel his fingers off hers. “Cassie! I love you! I’m not going to give up fighting for you.”

Cassie yanked her hand free, trembling with rage. “Get away from me.”

“Not until you give me another chance.” The lascivious jerk had a glint of cockiness in his eyes as if he knew she’d fall victim to his carefully orchestrated plea, as she always had in the past whenever he’d irritated her.

But this time was different.

It wasn’t about being annoyed.

This was about the essence of her soul.

Of her pride in being a woman.

“Cassie, just give me a chance. Lunch tomorrow. We’ll start over. I’ll prove you can trust me again.”

Ignoring Drew, she turned to face Ty. His eyes were too dark to read in the dim light. He was like a mysterious black hole that could hold danger, intrigue, friendship, passion.…She had no idea.

It was a risk she had to take.

With Drew’s incessant blathering rattling in her ears, she threw her arms around Ty and linked her hands behind his neck. She was uncomfortably aware of the look of surprise on his face, but she wouldn’t stop. Not with Drew standing there.

She pulled Ty toward her and kissed him. Hard. With all the passion of someone who wanted to prove she was stronger than she really was, and who was totally undone by the handsomeness of the man she was kissing.

## 2

TY FELT AS IF HIS WORLD was exploding. He’d seen the kiss coming and been ready for it.

Or so he’d thought.

He hadn’t been prepared for his blood to crash through his veins like a tidal wave trying to burst out of his body. He hadn’t been ready for the fire that was instantly ignited down south, for his hands to snap around her, anchoring her against him while he returned her kiss with a fervor more appropriate for a clandestine affair between lovers than a kiss engaged in only to make her ex-fiancé feel like the bastard he was.

Ty couldn’t stop himself from spreading his hands across Cassie’s back, feeling her shoulder blades move under his fingers as she tightened her grip on him, pressing herself closer. And when the delicate murmur of pleasure echoed from her throat, Ty couldn’t stop himself from responding with his own masculine growl of possession and passion.

He could feel Cassie’s breasts flattened against his chest through his suit jacket and starched shirt, felt his own body rise in response. And when the kiss became intimate in a way that an outsider could never see, his response was for her alone, for only the two of them. Only they knew he could feel the smooth surface of her teeth with his tongue and that she was responding with her own exploration, each touch sending the fire in his body escalating to new heights.

“He’s gone.” Leo’s amused voice broke through his fog.

Their lips froze, locked in the kiss like a pair of teenagers wearing braces.

“I said, Drew is gone.” Leo’s voice was louder now and even more amused.

Finally, Ty broke the kiss, but didn’t let go of Cassie. She kept her hands around his neck, staring at him with a look of startled awe. “I know,” he said.

Cassie blinked and finally appeared to realize what she was doing. Color rushed into her cheeks, turning them red through the bronzed tint of her skin, and she released him so quickly it was as if she’d been burned. Which was exactly how he felt. With regret, he let his hands slide off her soft sweater as she stepped away from him.

Leo moved into his line of vision, lowering her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “That looked like one hot kiss.”

Cassie’s cheeks turned even redder, though he wouldn’t have thought that was possible. “Um…Drew was being a jerk, so I, um, you know…I couldn’t let him…and Ty was being so nice…and Drew…idiot…so I guess I had to do something.…”

How could a woman capable of delivering a kiss like that be so genuinely embarrassed and cute afterward? There had been nothing “cute” about that kiss, yet now he wanted to wrap his arms around her and snuggle up with her to watch a movie in companionable intimacy. And then he’d take her to bed for some of that lovin’.

Hell, what was he thinking? He had no business letting his mind wander in that forbidden direction.

Cassie turned toward him, her eyebrows puckered in mortification. “Um, Ty, I’m really sorry about that.”

“No need to apologize.” No need at all. He’d take that kiss with him to his grave.

“No, really. I’m not the type to molest men I don’t know.”

“Or even men she does know,” Leo chimed in.

Cassie nodded. “Right. I don’t attack men. I swear.” She pressed her thumb and index finger into her forehead and shook her head. “I’m so embarrassed.”

Ty chuckled. “Trust me, any woman who can kiss like that has no reason to be embarrassed.”

She furrowed her eyebrows and pursed her lips, as if she wasn’t sure whether he was serious. Surely she’d gotten compliments before. No man could be the recipient of a kiss like that and not fall at her feet.

A strange pain in his gut surprised him. Was he actually bothered by the thought of her kissing other men as she’d just kissed him? He’d have to get over that and fast. Time to depart and get away from her influence.

There were certain things he didn’t want to know about himself, and his reaction to Cassie was one of them. Engaged men simply didn’t have those kinds of reactions to other women. Entirely unacceptable, regardless of whether the love between himself and his fiancée extended beyond friendship or not.

When he’d asked Alexis to marry him, he’d committed to her, and that’s how it was going to stay. So what if they both knew their relationship was based on friendship, not romantic love? When her parents had died, he’d vowed to take care of her, and he would. Committing to a marriage that had no hope of romantic love wasn’t a sacrifice. He’d never been in love in his life, so it wasn’t as if he was forgoing that sort of opportunity.

Or at least, he hadn’t thought so until Cassie’s kiss created a possibility that loomed most unwelcome.

“I have to go,” Ty said. “Nice to meet you, Cassie.”

He left the two women staring after him, Leo looking utterly delighted and entertained and Cassie still looking as if she wanted to crawl beneath one of the tables and hide under the paper tablecloth until everyone was gone. He wanted to stay to reassure her that she had nothing to be embarrassed about.…

Which was why he had to leave.

Now.

And consider buying a house in a different town.

Or a different state.

Or better yet, a different country.

He had a bad feeling that even Australia wouldn’t be far enough to make him forget about Cassie.

CASSIE WATCHED TY disappear through the raucous crowd, her cheeks still roasting.

“Wow. Was that kiss as good as it looked?” Leo folded her arms across her chest and wiggled her eyebrows.

“Depends.” It was absolutely astonishing that Cassie was able to speak coherently. She was truly gifted in her ability to don an exterior that hid the fact that her insides had melted. “How good did it look?”

“Like we should’ve called the fire department.”

Cassie plopped down on a folding chair and propped her chin on her hands. “The fire department would’ve been impotent.”

Leo sat down across from her and whistled. “That hot, huh?”

“If we hadn’t been in a roomful of people, I think it’s very possible I would have thrown him down and torn off that gorgeous suit.” Cassie sighed and leaned on the table. Her body was still tingling where Ty’s hands had held her, and his scent seemed to have settled in the fibers of her sweater. It was almost as blissfully heavenly as Leo’s chocolate concoctions. Cassie had never felt like this with Drew.

Drew. Now, why did she have to go and ruin a perfectly good moment by thinking of him? Very annoying.

“That would have been something, to see you throw Ty on the table and rip his clothes off,” Leo said.

“Speaking of worthy visions, Drew stormed out the emergency exit, with a veritable billow of smoke coming out his ears.”

As the heat began to subside in Cassie’s body, sense began returning to her brain. An unwelcome phenomenon from both angles. “Good God, Leo. I attacked him.”

“Yes, you did. Quite brilliant, really.”

“No, Leo, it’s a bad thing. I made a complete fool of myself in front of the entire town.”

Leo snorted. “Nonsense. At least half the town isn’t here.”

Like that made a difference. Cassie moaned and dropped her head to her arms, trying to bury her face in the table. “I’m going back to the Bahamas.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. The man loved it. You could see it all over his face.”

Cassie lifted her head off the table. “Really?”

“Yep. Maybe he could be your rebound man. Have a wild fling with him that restores your faith in yourself as a sexual dynamo when it comes to men.”

“I’m not a sexual dynamo.” A sexual flat tire was a more accurate description.

“I bet Ty would say you were.”

“I doubt it.” But a flutter of hope danced in Cassie’s belly at the thought. Wouldn’t that be interesting? As if it would happen. “Besides, I’m not ready for a relationship.”

“Because Drew burned you.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. I just want to be single. I’m not upset about Drew at all.”

Leo raised her eyebrow and Cassie lifted her chin. As if she’d ever let Drew win. “I could, however, use a little chocolate.”

Leo hopped to her feet. “Nothing like chocolate to solve a woman’s problems. After that display, I’m sure you’re in need of some therapy.”

“It’s going to take the entire dessert table.” And then some. Drew and a wanton display of impropriety all in the same evening? Not a good start to her life as a single woman.

Not a good start at all.

IT HAD BEEN LONG ENOUGH. Eight days since she’d returned from her honeymoon unwed. Eight days since she’d sucked face with a hot guy in front of her exfiancé. Eight days for her tan to fade.

Time to get her business going again. With the wedding approaching and Drew trying to convince her to close up shop so she could play little wifey, she’d been too stressed…ahem…busy to spend much time drumming up new clients.

Didn’t she look like the smart one now, refusing to listen to Drew and give up her career? What kind of shape would she be in currently if she’d quit her job and had no husband? Oh, and the monstrous bill from the wedding that she’d footed because Drew had insisted that was the bride’s responsibility. Mustn’t forget about that souvenir from the Almost Biggest Mistake of Her Life.

Cassie tapped her fingers on the steering wheel as she peeled around a snowy corner in her trusty Subaru. Maybe Drew had been trying to bankrupt her before the wedding so she would be financially dependent on him.

Bastard.

Anyway, she was totally over that, had spent the week cleaning up her office, closing accounts with old clients and opening files with new ones.

So what if she’d totally forgotten she’d promised to start Malcolm Tyler Parker’s treatment right after she got back from her honeymoon? She was on her way there now, wasn’t she? What was a week, huh?

Okay, so it was unforgivable that she’d misplaced the file. Fine. She could admit it. Perhaps she’d been a wee bit unsettled by the last month. She was together now.

Cassie coasted to a stop at a red light and glanced at her watch. Ten minutes to seven. She’d been planning to show up at Mr. Parker’s at exactly seven in the morning.

Her usual modus operandi for a new client.

Sure, he’d called her to set up a consultation, saying he was having trouble sleeping. That didn’t mean he’d actually ever tell her what was really going on. That was why she’d developed her strategy with all her new clients.

Show up unannounced at a bad time to start therapy. The client was always super stressed, and she usually got a very good idea of what she was dealing with.

There was a reason why she’d been written up in the New York Times as an excellent stress therapist. She was brilliant. How could she feel bad about herself if she kept pumping herself up like this? She couldn’t. Was she smart or what? It was a good thing she was so talented and got her own advice for free, or she’d be an emotional mess. And she wasn’t an emotional mess, if anyone was asking.

Cassie drummed her fingers impatiently on the dashboard, waiting for the light to change.

What if her new client had been at the dance and seen her display? It was bad enough she’d shown up at the event dateless, but making out with some stranger in front of everyone? Imagine the damage that could do to her professional reputation…unless she could figure out a way to call it research. Hmm…

Then again, was heavy-duty lip action with a really gorgeous guy so bad? No doubt everyone was talking about how Drew had stormed out and how Cassie was totally together and emotionally magnificent after such heartbreak.

It wasn’t as if anyone at the dance knew how close she’d actually come to vomiting all over Drew. Perhaps all was not lost…assuming she decided being known as a roving temptress was better than being known as “the woman who had a nervous breakdown and never recovered.” She could just imagine when she was ninety-two and doddering about town, people pointing to her and saying, “She had such a promising future once and now she just sits home alone picking lint out of her carpet. What a shame. What a shame.”

Instead, she’d be sauntering down the street at ninety-two with a horde of eager young bucks hoping to get a chance with the town’s sexual dynamo trailing after her.

A ninety-two-year-old prostitute. Somehow, that just didn’t have quite the ring she was looking for.

No matter. She’d just avoid men in every capacity and life would be good. Perhaps she should go back to the Bahamas and learn how to run from the giant bugs. Probably be less stressful than sorting out the oh-so-fabulous changes in her life.

Cassie whacked her forehead as she turned right onto Ridgeway Road. What was she thinking? She wasn’t stressed. She was fine. Fabulous. Wunderbar.

Perfectly capable of normal everyday things, like noticing what a nice neighborhood she’d just turned into. She frowned. Actually, it was really nice. Like, her dream neighborhood. Old, charming and classically New England. Houses with big wraparound porches, exuding character and personality.

Then she saw her destination: 153 Ridgeway Road.

That was it. She was officially in love with this house.

It was her dream home. Six dormers, three brick chimneys, huge windows. How could she possibly have lived in this town for her entire life and never known of the house? It should have called to her and forced her to find it.

Not that she could have afforded it, but still, she could have at least tried to find the money. Maybe she could have sold her body to wealthy old men for a few nights…yeah, right. No way could she sacrifice her body to dirty old men, no matter how nice the house was. The guy from the New Year’s Eve dance was another matter entirely.…

Ack! What was she thinking?

Ty had been a mistake, albeit a fun one given Drew’s reaction, but a lapse in judgment nonetheless. He was still a man and, as such, didn’t deserve to be thought of fondly. Starting now, men didn’t exist except as target practice when she was driving her car. Oh, and as clients and, therefore, as a way to fill her bank account.

And people thought she was bitter. Hah!

She was fine and ready to work, dammit. So she pulled into the driveway of her dream house and shut off the ignition.

She pushed her car door open with her foot, testing the driveway for traction.

Ice hidden beneath a dusting of snow.

Looked friendly. Treacherous beneath the surface. Just like a man.

But she meant that in the most complimentary way possible, because she really didn’t have baggage that was going to destine her to become an ill-tempered, unwanted old lady who chased little children with her cane just to hear them scream.

Not that she was paranoid that she’d never have another chance to get married again. That was a ridiculous notion. The last thing she wanted to do was date another man, let alone get married. The fact that she was starting over in the dating arena at age twenty-seven? No problem. She couldn’t have planned her life better if she’d tried. Everything was perfect.

She planted other foot solidly on the ground, grabbed her personal digital assistant that was oh-so-handy for downloading straight into her computer, straightened her suit, dug her heels into the snow for traction and prepared herself to march up to the door of her new client and change his life.

Hmm…maybe she should get a dog. Drew had always been antidog, but he was gone now, wasn’t he? If she got a dog, at least there would be one male who would share only her bed at night. Floppy ears, thick fur, four legs and a tail now topped her list of desired attributes in a man. Wouldn’t that be entertaining, if she started asking her dates to drop their pants so she could inspect for a tail?

See? There was humor in her miserable life.

Dammit. She’d used that word again: miserable. If she kept doing so, someone was bound to think she actually felt that way. She must eradicate it from her vocabulary, effective immediately.

She watched her breath puff out in white clouds as she hurried up the steps, carefully balancing her weight so her feet didn’t slip out from under her. Think about the client. Right. She could do this. Concentrating was no problem. She was a highly sought after professional genius, right? Of course right. She was never, ever wrong.

Okay…so find the significance of the icy steps.…Wow. It was like her brain was in a deep freeze. Come on, Cassie! Think! No, don’t panic that you’ve lost your talent. Close your eyes. Take deep breaths. Relax the muscles. Think about the client. Icy steps. Client. Stress.

Got it! Obviously, Malcolm Tyler Parker was too busy to put sand on his steps. Very interesting.

Cassie pulled out her PDA and jotted down the information. The man couldn’t sleep and didn’t take care of his property. Good to know. She entered the information in the “failure to perform basic home maintenance” column and proceeded to the door.

Hopefully, her new client would be an easy fix.

She wasn’t sure she was up to a monstrous challenge with a recalcitrant client, not with her soul still splattered on the pavement and trampled by a herd of rampaging cattle.

Scratch that.

She was fine.

Her soul was intact.

Her ego…maybe a little frayed around the edges. Nothing that a quick hem job couldn’t fix. If only she knew how to sew…

She forced herself to take a leisurely moment to admire the old horseshoe that had been converted into a door knocker, then banged on the door.

One minute after seven. Perfect timing.

No one came to the door.

She knocked again.

Still no one.

Cassie frowned. Surely he hadn’t left already? She clicked on “work schedule” to double-check her file. Yes, he’d told her he left for work shortly after seven. He should still be there. Her notes were never wrong.

She knocked again, harder, pretending it was Drew’s head she was pounding against the wood. Ah, how soothing. Taking her own advice to identify her stresses and visualize resolution, however socially inappropriate or legally prohibited.

She was definitely a genius.

A door slammed inside the house and Cassie straightened. She patted her hair to make sure it was neat, checked her nylons for runs, clamped her teeth together so they wouldn’t chatter from the cold, ignored her desire to rush home and put on flannel-lined blue jeans, fleece-lined boots and a wool sweater, and readied herself to face her new client.

With any luck, he would be extremely annoyed by the interruption and she could see what he was really like. She was on a roll now. The old Cassie was back. She should become an inspirational speaker on how to recover from emotional devastation. She was that amazing.

The unmistakable click of a lock being opened cued her to don a demure smile that would neither propel her new client into more stress nor dissipate stress that might already be present. Was she good or what?

The door opened and she forgot everything. “You’re kidding.”

“Cassie? What are you doing here?”

It was Ty.

From New Year’s Eve.

The same Ty with whom she’d tongue-tangoed eight days ago.

This was so not turning out to be her month.

## 3

MALCOLM TYLER PARKER.

Ty.

Duh.

Was she an idiot or what? So blinded by his gallantry that she hadn’t noted the possibility that “Ty” and “Malcolm Tyler” could be the same person.

Idiot. Idiot. Idiot.

“You’re Malcolm Tyler Parker, aren’t you?” As if she needed to ask.

He scowled. “How did you know my name? Or where to find me? I’m not in Information.” His voice was cautious, his body blocking the doorway as if to keep her out of his house.

“You gave it to me.” Sure sign of his stress. Didn’t even recall hiring Halloway Consulting to save him. There you go, Cassie. Think about work and not about how completely embarrassed you are to be standing here on his doorstep thinking about what his tongue feels like against yours.

He raised an eyebrow and shifted in the doorway, then shifted again. Too tense to relax? He was in such need of her services. “I told you my name was Ty. Didn’t give you my full name or my address.”

“Sure you did. How else would I have gotten it?”

Ty frowned and, despite her best efforts, she couldn’t help but notice that he looked quite sexy in his suit. In the light of day, it was apparent that Ty’s eyes were not black. They were a deep brown and they were narrowed in…disgust? Irritation? Raging desire for her body?

And he smelled so good. It was the same scent that had embedded itself in her sweater on New Year’s Eve…and hadn’t left the fibers all day Sunday.

Not that she’d pressed the sweater to her face all day or slept with it under her pillow just so she could smell him.…

Definitely not.

Cassie! What was she doing? Ty’s enticing scent was clearly not what she should be concerned about. A much bigger issue was his stress. And how she was going to explain sexually assaulting him a week ago.

Damn. She was going to have to explain that one.

But he really did look good in the light of day, didn’t he? He was the epitome of a wealthy businessman heading into New York City for work. A ridiculously sexy capitalist who undoubtedly had stolen many a woman away from her man.

Not that Cassie was attracted to him. She didn’t go for the corporate type. Except for Drew, and that had worked out oh-so-well. She’d always fantasized about the down-home boy who’d sling the kids over his shoulder and take them to work with him. A man who’d come home during lunch to build a new tree house. But Ty, with his sleek suit and efficient haircut, was giving her second thoughts on that particular stance. Maybe it was because she had no trouble picturing him with a kid hanging from each arm and a cat clawing its way up his leg. Either she was ultraperceptive or it was the first sign of the gradual deterioration of her grip on reality.

Perhaps it was his slightly crooked tie that was softening his image. Hmm…the off-kilter tie was probably a sign of his stress. A man who took such obvious care with his appearance couldn’t quite get the details right.

He needed her.

Ty’s eyes narrowed and Cassie realized how thick and dark his eyelashes were. So sexy they nearly made her pass out.…Well, if she were the fainting type.

“Why are you here? It’s not about New Year’s Eve, is it? Because that didn’t mean anything. It was to make Drew suffer because he’s a jerk.”

Oh, wow. He thought she was stalking him. Super. What an excellent first impression for a stress management therapist. Hi, I’m your therapist. Let me suck on your tongue and then stalk you.

No problem. She could handle this, right? Of course right. It wasn’t as if she was an emotional wreck or anything from the wedding that never happened. She lifted her chin and smiled calmly, ignoring the swirling whirlpool in her belly. “Ty. Listen, I’m not here about the kiss.”

“You aren’t?” His eyebrows were raised in visible skepticism. “Then why are you here?”

“To do you. I mean to do your stress. I mean…” Oh, if only the porch would collapse under her right now and bury her beneath two-hundred-year-old boards. No such luck, as the house was apparently built much too solidly for her convenience. She cleared her throat. “Six weeks ago you hired me to de-stress you. I’m here. Therapy has begun.”

He stared at her.

The man was like a mountain. An immovable mass of heaving masculinity. Oh, great. There went her hormones again, dancing ‘round the campfire doing the “seduce me” dance. When she got home, she was going to have a little chat with them about behaving appropriately when in public places.

“I hired you.” He did not sound convinced.

“Yes.” She patted his shoulder, refusing to notice how hard his muscles were beneath her hand. Okay, fine, so she noticed a little. She was human, wasn’t she? “Ty, that’s a sure sign of stress, when you forget appointments.”

He narrowed his eyes. “There’s no way I forgot an appointment this morning.”

Ah, he had her there. “Well, that’s true. I was intending to surprise you this morning.” From the deepening of the scowl on his face, he didn’t appear to take kindly to surprises.

Probably still fretting that she was a stalker.

“Hang on.” Cassie whipped out her handheld PDA, called up the original e-mail Ty had sent her to request her services, then turned the screen toward him. “Read.”

He grabbed her hand to steady the screen, and Cassie’s stomach did a little jump. What was her problem? He was a client, not some man put on this earth to give her thrills.

She didn’t even like men anymore, remember? She certainly wasn’t about to be attracted to one of them, even if she could still feel the heat from his hand infusing hers with…

“Huh.” He released her hand suddenly, as if he’d just realized he was touching her. Jerk. Just because he thought she was a dangerous lunatic was no reason to treat her as if she had cooties. Or maybe he wanted her so badly he couldn’t risk touching her. Good to know her imagination was still functioning.

“Now are you convinced you hired me?” Cassie flipped the screen toward herself and glanced at his e-mail. “You’re having trouble sleeping, your fiancée insisted you contact me or else she wouldn’t come home.…”

Whoa! Fiancée! Cassie had forgotten about that! Since Ty was Malcolm Tyler Parker, her new client, he had a fiancée. That really sucked.

Or it would suck, if she were interested in dating ever again. Which she wasn’t. So she didn’t care. Professional interest only. The burning in her gut? The result of consuming only coffee for breakfast. Not the feeling of disappointment, misery, loneliness or anything stupid like that. “You’re engaged?”

His lips tightened and his eyes darkened. For a long minute, he said nothing.

And then Cassie realized it was the Moment.

The moment where she learned whether all men were like Drew, cheating on their fiancées when they thought they wouldn’t get caught.

Ty could lie to her.

His fiancée would never know.

Don’t lie, Ty!

Not that Cassie cared. It wasn’t as if she was looking for a hero or even believed they existed. And what if, by some fluke of nature, Ty actually was some moral, trustworthy guy who was loyal to his fiancée? Then he’d refuse to ravage Cassie’s body and she wouldn’t get him, anyway. And if he did offer to tear off her clothes and take her right there on the doorstep, then he’d be a cretin who cheated on his fiancée.

See how it worked? If he honored his commitment to his fiancée, then he’d be worth trusting, but then Cassie couldn’t have him.

Not that she actually cared about him. It was just a hypothetical exercise in strategic thinking.

Ty finally nodded. “Yes, I’m engaged.”

Relief and regret surged through her. He was worthy…and he was unavailable. A hero…belonging to someone else.

Or maybe he just didn’t find her remotely attractive and he would have claimed a cockroach for a fiancée if it meant he didn’t have to fend off another one of her attacks.

Not that she had self-esteem issues or anything like that.

She lifted her chin. “Well, that’s great you have a fiancée. Fiancées are great.” Yes, as long as they don’t rip your heart out of your chest and stomp all over it in a public forum. “So, I guess then I’m supposed to de-stress you to save your engagement, huh? Make you tolerable to be around?”

For eight days she’d dreamed about this man…and now she had to ready him for another woman? If she failed and his fiancée ran away screaming, then he’d be available. If she succeeded, then he’d marry another woman.

Not that any of that mattered if the cockroach theory proved to be true.

And even if it didn’t, she had a job to do.

Whoa. What was she thinking? She couldn’t take this job.

He wasn’t a client. He was a man whom she’d sexually assaulted only a week ago. And she could still taste him on her lips.

How could she ever maintain appropriate professionalism with this man, in this situation?

It was completely impossible.

She was tough, but she wasn’t impenetrable.

Not to mention she was still mortally embarrassed about attacking him.

“Cassie? Are you all right?” His brows were furrowed and he actually looked sort of cute when he wasn’t glaring at her and acting as if she was a psycho.

“I’m excellent.”

“You sure?”

Damn him. He looked so concerned that she wanted to plop down on his couch and tell him all about her miserable month. No, challenging month. “Of course I’m sure.”

He didn’t look as if he believed her, and her belly became warm with appreciation. No doubt he was the kind of man who would take care of his woman. He might even realize when she needed a hug without her having to ask.…

No. Don’t think like that.

Think of the cockroach theory. “So…we have some work to do,” she said.

“No, we don’t.”

Typical denial. “Because you aren’t stressed or because you can’t stand the sight of me after I molested you…?” Oh, super. How had that little gem found its way from her brain to her lips? She certainly hadn’t given it a map.

An endearing smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “I’m not stressed.”

And what about the second part of my question? As if she’d ask. He’d ignored it and so would she.

“And the sight of you doesn’t turn my stomach,” he added, as if he could read her mind.

“Oh. Well. That’s good.…I mean, it’s good because it would be hard for us to work together if I made you nauseous.” Brilliant. She was simply dazzling with her manipulation of the English language and her ability to turn a romantic phrase.

He grinned, no doubt amused by her ongoing effort to prove she was a complete dolt.

“The kiss has nothing to do with the fact I don’t want your help,” Ty said.

The kiss. The magical, earth-shattering, devastating kiss.

“I don’t want your help because I don’t need it. I thought I sent you another e-mail canceling the contract.”

“Stress again. You think one thing, you do another, and all the while your subconscious knows you need help. It’s typical.” She flipped open the cover to her PDA again. “You don’t mind if I take notes, do you?”

Ty grabbed the unit out of her hand. “I said I don’t need help.”

Excellent. A recalcitrant client. She was so not up for this. Recalcitrant, hot and a good kisser. Just what she needed.

Ty snapped the cover down. “For your information, I have a demanding job. That’s it. I was busy, hadn’t returned a couple calls to my fiancée and she got annoyed. So I sent the e-mail.”

Ah-hah. He’d done a weird jerky thing with his eyes when he’d mentioned his job. Something wasn’t right at the office. Cassie carved the note in her brain for recall after they’d parted ways and she could jot it down in her handheld device. Look at her: gifted with an attentive and sharp mind that honed in on stress-related signals even while she was in the throes of an emotional breakdown. Was she good or what? She’d always suspected there was a reason she hadn’t tried to knock herself out with a coconut when she was in the Bahamas.

“So what if my job requires long hours? That doesn’t mean I’m stressed,” Ty added.

As if she was that brain-dead. The man was too transparent to escape her sleuthing and suspicious mind. Before Drew, she’d been naive and trusting. Today, she was a bitter, perceptive woman…or harlot, depending on one’s point of view. Maybe having her world shattered by a cheating fiancé would make her a better stress management consultant. No longer would she be so willing to believe the good side her clients projected. A jaded realist, she would dig deeper than ever to find the true misery in her clients’ lives. “And your fiancée? No worries about what might happen when she comes to town and finds you working such long hours?”

“Nope.”

He didn’t flinch there. Definitely no concerns about what his fiancée would think about his work schedule. But something was amiss. It was apparent from the way he shifted on the doorstep and looked at his watch.…

Or maybe Cassie was making him late for a meeting.

Yikes. Why couldn’t she tell the difference between his being late and his being deceptive? What had happened to her instincts? Left on the floor of Drew’s bedroom on the night before their wedding, when she’d walked in…

Ahem.

Hadn’t she banned herself from thinking about that night? Focus on the present. “So, I’ll see you Friday night?”

He blinked. “Friday night?”

“Eight o’clock? Your place. I assume you don’t get home early enough during the week to meet.”

“I told you. I don’t need your help.”

Cassie shrugged, trying not to look into the depths of his dark eyes, wondering what it would feel like to have them roaming her body.…Hello. This was business. And he was engaged. Shut down the hormones.

Besides, hadn’t she already decided she couldn’t take him on as a client? There was simply too much baggage. And if she refused him as a client, then she wouldn’t have to be near him. And that would be good because she certainly felt the same urge to attack him that had overwhelmed her on New Year’s Eve, only this time she didn’t have the excuse of wanting to destroy Drew’s cockiness. Cassie was definitely going into post-traumatic stress disorder as a result of canceling the wedding. From conservative fiancée to sex-crazed fiend in a matter of weeks.

Not an entirely convenient transformation, given that the only two men in her life were a cheating exfiancé and a stressed-out hunk engaged to another woman. Not exactly appropriate outlets for her newly aroused fantasies. The solution? Retreat. “Fine. I won’t help you.”

He lifted an eyebrow. “Fine? Just like that?”

“Sure. Why not?”

“But…”

“But what?”

“Shouldn’t you be more…”

“Tenacious?” she offered.

“Yes.”

“Usually. Not today.”

“Why not?”

“Not in the mood.” To be more precise, she wasn’t in the mood to work with him, and she was taking any excuse to turn down the project. Not that she was too emotionally distraught to cope. It was a tactical ploy designed to lay the foundation for her future career. She held out her hand. “My PDA, please.”

He passed it to her, his fingers brushing against her palm. Dammit! Why were her hormones going all weird every time he touched her? Unprofessional, inappropriate and pathetic. It was time to shape up. “Have a nice day.”

She made it only to the curb before she started doubting her decision.

BY THE TIME CASSIE arrived at Blissful Heaven at nine o’clock that evening, Leo had already laid out a bountiful supply of lush strawberries. A pot of thick, gooey and sinfully delicious chocolate was heating on a burner. The smell of warm cocoa hit Cassie the moment she pushed open the door to the little shop.

Nirvana at last.

She inhaled deeply, waiting for the tension to leave her body.

It didn’t.

She sniffed again, letting the divine scent spread through her being, seep into her lungs.…

Again, no loosening of the tight tendons in her shoulders. What was up with that? Chocolate never failed her. She saved these emergency sessions for the moments of greatest need, and they always worked.

Of course, at the present moment, she was a wee bit more strung out than she’d been in the past. Like when she’d driven into a police car at a stoplight, or the time she’d accidentally set Drew’s house on fire when he was on his way home with clients.…Hah! She’d forgotten about that. Must have been her prophetic subconscious knowing that someday he’d be deserving of having his kitchen turned into a pile of ashes on a very important day.

All well and good now, but at the time she had been more than a little distraught. A quick session at Leo’s with the chocolate and Cassie had recovered enough to call Drew and admit she hadn’t actually been killed in the fire. The jerk hadn’t even been worried about her, a fact she probably should have paid more attention to.

Ah, the beauty of hindsight.

So, anyway, if the chocolate had worked for that very traumatic event, why wasn’t it helping now, when things weren’t nearly that bad? So she’d sucked face with some stranger who was engaged to another woman. So what if he was also her new client and she couldn’t stop fantasizing about him? Those really weren’t big deals, even if you threw in the minor issue of the wedding that never happened. Really. It wasn’t any worse than, say, getting a bad haircut—especially if you got the haircut as your head was stuck through a guillotine and the blade was coming down, gleaming and shining, ready to lop off your head and—

“Cassie! You’re here!” Leo popped up from behind the marble counter, her bleached-blond hair swept into a careful bun to keep stray strands from adding to the texture to her desserts. Her customers would no doubt rebel against finding strands in their succulent sweets, or at least the women would. Cassie suspected the men lived for the hope that such a blessing would befall them.

Men. A strange breed.

“What in the world is going on? You call an emergency chocolate relief session and then make me wait all day without any details! What’s up with that?”

As if she was prepared to talk yet. She needed medicinal treatment first. Cassie grabbed the biggest strawberry and dunked it into the bubbling vat. She held it up, letting thick drops fall back into the pot with a rhythmic, soothing blurp. Ah…she felt better already just watching the chocolate dance. “It’s Ty.”

“Ty? The guy from New Year’s Eve? You saw him again?”

Yes, I saw Sex God again. Smelled dreamy. No, she needed to regroup. Focus. “I’m supposed to de-stress him for his fiancée.” Wow, that really sucked, saying “Ty” and “his fiancée” in the same sentence.

Cassie immediately plunked the chocolate-covered berry in her mouth.…Yikes! Hot!

“You’re supposed to put those on the waxed paper to cool after you dunk them,” Leo said dryly.

“Like I don’t know that.” The fact that she’d seared off the top layer of her tongue would be well worth it once the chocolate kicked in and soothed her stress.…

“Wow. You’re really in bad shape,” Leo said.

“Hang on.” Cassie held up a hand to stall Leo’s inquisition while she assessed her body. One strawberry ingested, but she still didn’t feel any better? Something was definitely wrong. Maybe the chocolate-fruit ratio had been off. Time to go full strength.

She picked up a spoon, dunked it into the simmering pot and scooped up a decadent portion.

“You must be seriously close to cracking up to assault your figure like that,” Leo observed. “He’s just a guy.”

“My need for chocolate has absolutely nothing to do with him.” Gah. How pathetic did Leo think she was? Needing chocolate because of a man. Silliest thing she’d ever heard.

Cassie blew on the chocolate to cool it off. See? Her instincts were still working. She was capable of learning from her mistakes. Burn the tongue on hot chocolate once. Cool it off next time. Someone on the verge of losing her mind would be entirely incapable of such brilliance. “He thought I was stalking him when I first showed up.”

“I wouldn’t recommend the stalking thing.”

Cassie raised an eyebrow. “Don’t tell me you’ve been accused of stalking before?”

“I might have been a bit overzealous in my pursuit of men in my reckless youth, but we’re discussing Ty. More specifically the fact that his engagement has sent you into a bout of depression so deep that it’ll take my store’s complete inventory to pull you out of it.”

Cassie poured the entire contents of the spoon into her mouth and swallowed. “It’s not that he’s engaged.”

Leo lifted her brows. “No?”

“It’s that I nearly sampled his tonsils. How am I supposed to work with him?” Darn it. Still no relief. “Are you sure this is real chocolate?”

“I think he still wants to jump your bones. And I’m insulted you could even question the purity of my chocolate.”

“Jump my bones?”

Leo grinned. “I told you. Biker date last night. I’m still in the mind-set.”

Cassie folded her arms across her chest. “Well, Ty’s engaged, so it doesn’t matter if he wants me. Besides, the entire conversation is moot because I’m not going to take him on as a client and I’m never dating anyone ever again, anyway. And are you really positive it’s not diet chocolate or something?”

“You’re going to turn him down? Are you kidding? You have one kiss with the man and you can’t cope with being in the same room with him? I’d have to go into isolation if I couldn’t handle being in the presence of any man I’d kissed. And of course it’s not diet.”

But this kiss was different. It had been more than a kiss. It had been a connecting of their souls.

“Is Ty stressed?”

“No.” Liar! Liar! Liar!

“Cassie…”

“Okay, fine. There’s a distinct possibility he’s stressed. So what?”

“So, you’re going to abandon a person in need of your services? Don’t you have any compassion?”

“I—He—” Where was her brain? Cassie was totally unable to fabricate even a weak excuse, let alone a viable one.

“Face it, Cassie. You called this chocolate relief session because you’re feeling guilty for refusing to help him because of your own baggage.”

“I have no baggage.”

Leo rolled her eyes. “The wedding? Finding Drew naked with another woman? Him declaring his love for you at the dance? Throwing yourself at some hot guy? Your first kiss in four years with someone other than Drew? Broke from your own wedding?”

“Well, when you say it like that…” Forget the stupid red fruit. She needed chocolate straight up. Cassie scooped up another spoonful, blew on it, then dumped the entire contents in her mouth. Swirled it around. Twice. Swallowed.

Nothing!

No respite at all.

Was she building up an immunity?

Just what she needed: a resistance to chocolate. Not.

It certainly couldn’t be that she was so tense that even her fail-safe stress reliever was rendered impotent. That would be unacceptable. Could she even imagine a stress-management consultant who was a complete basket case? Yes, that was definitely something that would add to her credentials.

Leo set her cellphone in Cassie’s hand. “Call him.”

Was she insane? “Ah…No.” Cassie tossed the phone onto the counter.