“I’ll show you mine, if you show me yours…”

“Come again?” Carly asked.

Matt’s gray eyes darkened and the playfulness that had been there a moment ago turned into something smoky. He bent in to narrow the gap between them, stoking her desire.

“The rest of your answers. You’ve forgotten that I saw a couple of them already.” He dropped his eyes to her lips. “I don’t think you were toying with the survey when you completed the section about sex…. I think you were telling the truth.”

Carly dug her fingers into her office chair. “It’s just a silly questionnaire.”

The corners of his mouth cocked into a smile. “I don’t think there’s anything silly about this heat between us. I think we might do ourselves justice by seeing where it goes.”

She really should object, knowing what she knew about the fudged survey. But with Matt, she didn’t want to be decent. She wanted to be delightfully bad. Because no matter how wrong he was about the results, she hadn’t lied on every question.

He was right. When it came to sex, she and Matt were a perfect match….

MILLS & BOON

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Blaze™

Dear Reader,

I’ve often seen those matchmaking commercials on TV. You know, the ones with those happy couples who look perfect for each other dancing to the promise of long-lasting love? The romantic in me smiles every time I see all those happily-ever-afters packed into one thirty-second spot.

The writer in me insisted there was a juicy story in there somewhere. For an angle, I knew it had to involve cheating of some sort. I wanted my heroine to lie through her teeth on the survey, then get stuck being matched to the wrong guy. Ideally, he’d be someone she knew. Even more perfect, someone she absolutely hated. Oh, and in the midst of all that, she’d be forced to pretend to be his soul mate. After all, what’s interesting about cheating if it doesn’t get a girl into trouble? So once the details were in place, I ended up with a story that was a total blast to write.

In the following pages Carly Abrams is about to discover that, while you might be able to boil matchmaking down to a science, true love is nothing short of magic.

Happy reading!

Lori Borrill

PUTTING IT TO THE TEST
Lori Borrill

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

An Oregon native, Lori Borrill moved to the Bay Area just out of high school and has been a transplanted Californian ever since. Her weekdays are spent at the insurance company where she’s been employed for over twenty years, and she credits her writing career to the unending help and support she receives from her husband and real-life hero. When not sitting in front of a computer, she can usually be found at the Little League fields playing proud parent to their son, Tom. She’d love to hear from readers and can be reached through her Web site at www.LoriBorrill.com, or via mail addressed to Harlequin Enterprises, Ltd., 225 Duncan Mill Road, Toronto, Ontario M3B 3K9, Canada.

Books by Lori Borrill

HARLEQUIN BLAZE

308—PRIVATE CONFESSIONS

344—UNDERNEATH IT ALL

To the many friends and coworkers at the

office who have been a source of support and

encouragement from the very start. You make the

daily grind worth showing up for!

For Al and Tommy.

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

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Epilogue

1

I TEND TO BE conservative when it comes to sex.

Carly Abrams studied the survey option, wondering if she should answer based on her actual sex life or the one she really wanted. So far in her twenty-six years she hadn’t exactly pushed any sexual boundaries. But that wasn’t her fault. She simply hadn’t connected with any adventurous men. Give her the right partner with the right moves at the right time, and a very kinky side of Carly Abrams could make a flashing debut. The fact that it hadn’t happened yet shouldn’t be held against her, should it?

“No, it shouldn’t,” she muttered, then clicked the box titled Disagree. She briefly paused over Strongly Disagree, thinking if she was making a sexual admission, she might as well go all the way, but decided to leave it be. It was pointless to overanalyze the questions. Though this was a matchmaking survey, she wouldn’t be finding any soul mates on the design team at Hall Technologies. This was only an exercise to select the two Web designers who would be assigned to the company’s latest client, Singles Inc., an online matchmaking and dating service in need of a fresh new Web site.

A number of firms had vied for the account, Singles Inc. attracting some of the biggest names in advertising and Web design. But though Hall Technologies was no leader in the industry, Brayton Hall had landed the account with his unconventional style and his concepts about becoming one with the client, which in this case included using the client’s compatibility survey to select the project’s design team.

Everyone who wanted a shot at the job had to fill it out, though employees had the option of skipping any questions they felt uncomfortable answering.

Like this next one.

When it comes to sex, nothing’s too far out for me. Bring on the toys, tie me up and invite a friend to join us. “The wilder, the better” is my motto.

Well, if she were looking to connect with adventurous men, this would certainly be the way to do it.

Fidgeting with the hem of her canary-yellow tunic, she stared at the screen and smiled. Wouldn’t Mr. Hall keel over if she strongly agreed to that statement? Not that she expected him to read the answers. They’d made a big deal out of mentioning that Singles Inc. would tally the results and that no one at Hall Technologies would be privy to detailed information.

Still, if he did, it would be a riot. Ms. Sally Sunshine, as she was often regarded, coming out of her tidy closet to reveal a fetish for bondage, dildos and threesomes. Just the image of Mr. Hall’s reaction had her clicking Strongly Agree for fun and tempting herself to leave it that way. Of course, it wouldn’t be true. Though toys and bondage might have raided her fantasies, she couldn’t quite make the jump into threesomes—and she could hardly cop to the label of “wild” if she’d never even broached “moderate.”

Yet she couldn’t help staring at her answer as if she were trying the idea on for size.

“When it comes to sex, nothing’s too—”

The low, sultry voice over her shoulder caused her to jump and slap a hand to the screen.

Please don’t let that be who she thought it was.

“—far out for me.”

Oh, heck. It was. Matt Jacobs, the bane of her existence, the thorn in her professional side. The star of your sexual fantasies.

Oh, no. Scratch that last errant thought. Matt Jacobs was most definitely not her sexual fantasy. In fact, the only fantasy she had of Matt involved him making a fool out of himself in front of as many people as possible, getting fired, packing up his belongings and tripping over the threshold on his way out the door.

Yeah, now there’s a fantasy to get hot about.

Frowning, she tossed over her shoulder, “Do you mind?” But instead of backing off, he moved in closer and chuckled lightheartedly, filling her space with the sound of his voice and sending a tingle through her veins that exposed that last thought as a lie.

Okay, so maybe she was still harboring a few remnants of the crush she’d developed two years ago, back when he’d first swaggered into Hall Technologies from their rival design firm, Web Tactics. He’d been a noted acquisition for Hall, and Carly, as the lead Web programmer, had been sold on his arrival. The two were supposed to have formed a team, working together to tackle the biggest projects that came through the door. But that was before he waltzed in and told management he could do it alone, knocking her off their first project and snagging every other good account that had come in since.

That she’d actually held a torch for the man embarrassed her, that the torch still hadn’t gone out dismayed her. And that he’d picked this precise moment to pay her a visit took the cake entirely. This could go down as a banner moment in Carly Abrams’s life if he’d actually seen her answer to the survey question. It was bad enough he’d rejected her; now only the ninth-grade belching incident could top the humiliation of Matt Jacobs thinking she was into extreme kinky sex.

With her right hand still covering the screen, she awkwardly reached for the mouse with her left, trying in a nonchalant way to minimize the window. Instead it came off looking like some bizarre game of computer-monitor Twister.

“I never would have pegged you as a threesome kinda gal,” Matt whispered into her ear, cluing her in to the fact that he had, indeed, read the answer.

Heat swarmed her cheeks. The ninth-grade belching incident officially fell to number two on the list. Matt Jacobs—her darkest professional foe, reluctant personal heartthrob—now thought she was some kind of closet porn queen.

Letting her hands fall to her sides, she jutted her chin and turned toward Matt, putting up her best front despite the fact that her eyes couldn’t quite reach his.

“What can I do for you, Matt?”

There. Perfectly calm and cool. She wasn’t about to justify his comment with an answer. And as long as she didn’t let her eyes wander above his knees, she was almost guaranteed not to swallow her tongue.

He shifted and leaned against her desktop, and a wisp of something burly swept across her nose, drugging her senses with the scent of rugged man.

Okay, so she could hold her breath, too. No problem.

But as she held the air in her lungs, licked some moisture onto her lips and tried to keep her eyes diverted from that hard, sinewy chest, she feared how stupid she probably looked.

Inwardly she groaned. Why did she always turn into an idiot around this man? It killed her, this effect he had on her. He was so not deserving of her affections, but to this day her brain hadn’t managed to convince the rest of her body of that little fact. Even at this very moment her nipples had gone erect, as if to sit up proper and make a good impression. Didn’t they know he needed to be shunned?

“Hmm, what you can do for me,” he said. “Given what I know now, several things come to mind.”

Her jaw dropped and she flicked her gaze to his in time to catch his wink. Those devilish gray eyes bored into her, taunting her with his knowing glare, and it suddenly occurred to her just how badly this could end up. He had a look that said he was one Sharpie short of scribbling For a good time call… in all the restrooms, and in a frantic move to correct him she blurted, “I lied.”

He blinked. “You what?”

“The survey. My answer. It’s not true.”

He held his big hands up in truce. “Hey, your private life is none of my business.”

Okay, so he could have said that with slightly less conviction. Her private life definitely wasn’t his business, but he didn’t have to express his disinterest so convincingly.

Crossing her arms over her chest to conceal her traitorous breasts, she pronounced, “Well, it’s not. I only put that answer there to toy with Mr. Hall.”

Matt stood for a moment and stared.

“You what?”

“It’s a joke. Or a lesson, depending on how you look at it. Hall said the surveys were confidential, but just in case he takes a peek at our answers, I decided to leave him a shocker.”

Matt blinked, then blinked again, then threw his head back and laughed. “I didn’t know you had it in you.”

“Had what?”

“A joke. That’s priceless.”

Her jaw dropped for the second time. What was worse—him thinking her a pervert or him thinking her humorless?

“I happen to be very funny,” she defended, causing him to drown out his chuckle with a cough.

“I’m sure you are,” he said, but his tone said otherwise.

Rising to her feet, she clasped her hands to her hips and called over the cubicle wall to their coworker, Neil.

“Neil, I’m funny, aren’t I?”

“You’re hysterical,” Neil agreed, though even his response sounded like a nagged husband just trying to keep peace in the family.

Lowering back to her chair, she told herself not to let it bother her. Matt was only trying to push her buttons, probably bent over the fact that the Singles Inc. account wasn’t being handed to him on a platter like all the other top projects. In fact, now that she thought about it, the whole puzzle fit.

Since when had he ever left his corner of the floor to fraternize with the other designers? His desk was right outside the executive suite, which allowed him to continually buddy up to the bosses without having to cross paths with anyone else. Yet today he’d decided to stop by. And why? Because management had duped him on this latest assignment. Not only were they insisting a man and a woman work together on this one—Singles Inc. wanting to assure the new site appealed to both sexes—but to get the project Matt would have to show some sort of compatibility with a woman on the team.

And to match up with a woman he’d have to bother getting to know one.

Ha, she thought. Mr. High and Mighty didn’t have a chance, and he knew it. So instead of filling out the survey and taking his chances, like everyone else, he was out trolling to compare answers. Why else would he have made reading her computer screen his first order of business?

Giving him a glare she hoped looked evil, she asked, “Why are you here?”

His bemused smile said her evil glare was about as threatening as a cream puff.

“Your Ultimate HTML Guide. I’d like to borrow it, if you don’t mind. I took mine home and forgot to bring it back.”

She poked her cheek with her tongue. “Are you sure about that?”

“Come again?”

“This must kill you, having to compete for a spot on the Singles Inc. project like everyone else.”

“It’s not a competition. It’s about compatibility.”

“Exactly, and it’s probably only now occurred to you that you don’t know a thing about the staff. Your odds of striking the highest match with anyone are slim at best.”

He folded his arms across his chest and frowned, a stance that made him look deliciously menacing, and Carly had to will away a half dozen inopportune thoughts. The man was handsome to distraction, the kind of sexual magnet that jerked heads and caused women to walk into walls.

Tall, with a strong, square jaw, Matt Jacobs was about as close as they came to physical perfection, and no matter how badly Carly wanted to ignore him, she couldn’t deny her attraction. He was the epitome of her ideal sex toy, dark and serious, strong and silent, yet still capable of flashing a grin that could turn the most pent-up woman into mush.

A layer of stubble hardened what might otherwise be a too-pretty face. He kept his dark, wavy hair cut just below the ears—short enough for the workplace but long enough to sink your fingers in—and when he smiled, a faint dimple sank into one cheek, softening those hard lines and warming everything around him.

His silver eyes had a habit of revealing his thoughts—this particular one screaming loud and clear annoyance—but despite his bone-melting nearness and disgruntled glare, Carly worked hard to keep the upper hand. This was the first time she’d ever confronted him with her opinion, and she wouldn’t let a little temptation to fondle those biceps stop the momentum.

He stared at her for a moment, then feigned looking aghast. “You think I’m here to compare answers with you?”

“This would be the first major project you’re not part of. Are you trying to tell me you’d leave the results up to fate?” Shaking her head, she huffed. “No way.”

He looked at her as though she were insane, but she suspected it was a cover, that underneath the facade he was mortified she’d read him so easily.

“I’ll just borrow your book now and go, if you don’t mind,” he said, reaching over her shoulder and pulling the manual from her overhead shelf.

She pushed back a smirk. “Keep it as long as you’d like.”

And when he turned and left her cubicle, she smiled with satisfaction. Finally, after spending two years being backstage to Matt Jacobs, she was about to shine.

Granted, she wasn’t guaranteed a spot on the team any more than he was. However, the simple fact that the Singles Inc. account would be handed out based on something other than Matt’s ability to suck up to the boss left her feeling that justice had rightfully returned to Brayton Hall Technologies.

And if, by some chance, she got the project over Matt, well, that would be the ultimate icing on the cake.

“WHY DO I LET HER get to me?”

Matt picked up the plastic bottle of ketchup, squeezed it over his fries, then passed it to his coworker, Adam, his closest friend at Hall Technologies.

The two men had connected last year when Adam discovered Matt had played AA ball for the Anaheim Nationals. Since the center of Adam’s life was his men’s softball team, he’d been itching to sign Matt up ever since learning of his past. Unfortunately for Adam, Matt wasn’t about to step back into a dugout, and though Adam rechecked that status on a regular basis, he’d learned to accept Matt as nothing more than a lunch companion.

Their normal routine involved ducking out for deli sandwiches they brought back to their desks, using the quick stroll around the corner to stretch their legs and talk about sports. Matt’s encounter with Carly this morning had him suggesting they dine out, and “burgers at Quimbly’s,” a nearby fifties-style diner, was all Adam needed to hear to agree.

“Because she’s hot,” Adam said. He squeezed a dollop of ketchup on his bacon cheeseburger and set the red plastic bottle back in the caddy next to its yellow-mustard mate.

Matt shook his head. “Lots of women are hot and none of them drive me crazy. Carly Abrams drives me crazy.”

“They always say love exists on the edge of insanity.”

Ignoring the comment—because he refused to grace that stupidity with an answer—he pointed a crinkle-cut fry toward Adam. “She actually thought I’d come over to her desk to look at her answers to the survey.” Scoffing, he added, “That is one twisted woman.”

Though, granted, he had looked at her answers. Not just the one about being into wild, kinky sex but the one before it, as well, the one that said she was most definitely not conservative in bed. He genuinely hadn’t come over prying for info on her survey, but he couldn’t deny what he’d seen haunted him.

And the more he thought about it, the less he believed her story about toying with Old Man Hall. It was a nice try, but Matt couldn’t shake the suspicion that Carly Abrams really did have a wild side in bed.

And he’d been semierect ever since.

“You have to admit, this is the first time you weren’t given the big project,” Adam said. “There have been rumblings over how you’re dealing with that.”

“I couldn’t care less about Singles Inc. I’ve already spent two years proving myself to Hall. I don’t need another big project to showcase my abilities.”

And it was true. Matt hadn’t come to Hall Technologies just to do more Web design. He’d come to learn the ropes from Brayton Hall, the man who was about to blow the lid off the traditional Web-design and electronic-advertising firms. Hall had spent two decades at IBM, being in on the ground floor of Internet technology back when the public barely knew what a dot-com was. He’d learned the rules from one of the industry leaders, then set out on his own to break them.

With the larger firms building corporate structures that turned them into slow-moving barges, Hall Technologies stayed nimble, hiring some of the brightest independent Web designers, who were accustomed to coming up with innovative ideas and delivering them fast. To the big players they were barely a blip on the radar, but Matt knew that was all about to change and he had every intention of being the guy to Hall’s right when it happened.

“Not when there’s a management position hitting the rumor mill, huh, pal?” Adam asked.

Matt was about to take a bite of his double cheeseburger when he stopped. “You heard about that?”

“Word’s slowly getting around. I don’t know how much truth there is to it, but we’ve got over a dozen designers in the department and the company keeps growing. Hiring another manager seems to fit.”

“So what have you heard?”

Adam casually glanced around the room, making sure people with the wrong ears hadn’t stepped into the restaurant, before answering.

“Only that he’s looking to start up a specialized project team. Hall wants to go after some of the bigger clients and he’s got ideas on how to do that without turning into another corporate slug. What those ideas are, I don’t know, but I’ve heard he wants someone to take the lead on it so he can continue to focus on acquisitions.”

“Yeah,” Matt said. “That’s what I heard, too.” And the thought left him salivating. This was exactly the kind of thing he’d been waiting for, the precise reason he’d left his cushy job to prove himself all over again to Brayton Hall. The man was brilliant, and Matt wanted to be the recipient of that wisdom to someday maybe make partner or rival Hall with his own design firm.

Either way, it was a win-win situation, and instead of bothering himself with Singles Inc., he’d rather sniff out what he had to do to land that new position.

And when he got it, he’d be glad nothing had ever come of him and Carly. Despite her disdain for him, she was one of the sharpest minds at Hall Technologies. If Matt was to land this job, she’d be the first one he’d ask for. Granted, there was a chance she’d laugh in his face at the offer. He knew she’d resented him since the day he’d been hired, and his visit to her cube this morning had been yet another attempt on his part to chat it up and maybe broach a truce.

But, as always, he’d opened his mouth, said the wrong thing and started the downward spiral that only solidified her contempt for the ground he walked on. He hadn’t meant to make the crack about the survey. He’d just seen her answers, turned hard as a rock and blurted out the first thing that popped into his mind—that her answer couldn’t be true.

Because he needed it not to be true.

If he did get to assemble this new team, and Carly was on it…Well, he’d already been hot enough under the collar when it came to her without believing she had a wild side when it came to sex.

Knowledge like that, if proven true, could likely kill him.

“And I take it you’re the man for the job?” Adam asked.

“I’d like to think so. Any rumors where that’s concerned?”

“Only speculation. There isn’t anyone in Programming or Sales with the expertise to handle it, so most people are assuming they’d pick someone from our unit, most likely you or Carly.”

He raised a brow. “Carly?”

Adam shrugged. “She’s been here from the start, had been the number one designer before you came along. And she’s a team player, a favorite among the programmers and business-development execs. She’s got the affection of everyone on staff, so in that respect,” he said, tipping his glass toward Matt, “I’d consider her a contender if I were you.”

Matt dismissed Adam’s enthusiasm but didn’t let the sentiment show on his face. Sure, everything he’d said about Carly was true, but since Matt had come on board, Hall had practically been grooming him for a spot on the management team. All signs pointed to the idea that she would be working for him someday, not the other way around, but he didn’t need to further strain his relationship with her by spreading that notion around.

So he lied.

“Yeah, I suppose Carly would be another viable candidate.” Then, getting back to his meal, he added, “I guess we’ll have to see how things pan out.”

2

“DO YOU THINK I’m funny?”

Carly posed the question to her friend, Bev, as they stepped out of the offices of Hall Technologies and into the bright midday sunshine. For almost a year now the two women had been spending their lunch hours power walking through the industrial park that housed Hall Technologies and several other high-tech firms just north of San Francisco. That was, of course, unless the weather was bad or one of them was up against a deadline. Or if they had errands to run or there was a sale at Paulson’s. And never on Fridays, when the Sub Shack ran their two-for-one lunch special.

In truth, today was the first time in two weeks they’d sufficiently run out of excuses and opted for the walk.

“What do you mean? Funny ha-ha or funny strange?” Bev asked.

“Funny. Humorous. Someone who can make a joke and take one.”

Letting the door swing closed behind her, Carly followed Bev down the sidewalk toward Lakeford Park, a block from the office. Structured like a town square, the park was the primary destination for the nearby office workers looking for a comfortable place to enjoy the sun. A half dozen restaurants lined the shady square, most only open for lunch, though Lone Dog Coffee caught the morning rush, and Flippers—equipped with a liquor license—stayed open for happy hour.

Separating the tree-lined park from the soggy marshlands to the east was a paved jogging path that supposedly stretched all the way to the small airfield a few miles away, though Bev and Carly never cared to see for themselves. Between the plantar fasciitis that ailed Bev’s feet and Carly’s general hatred of exercise, the two always opted for the short route, which involved cutting off the jogging path at the far end of the park and circling through the square, picking up something for lunch on the way back around.

“I don’t know.” Bev shrugged. “I suppose I’d consider you funny.”

“You suppose?” That didn’t sound convincing.

“Yeah, I suppose. I mean, you wouldn’t make my top-ten list of hilarious people, but you’ve had your moments.”

Carly frowned as Bev picked up her pace, her blond ponytail whipping like a pendulum once they crossed the street and started down the jogging path. Intent on losing the twenty pounds she’d gained since her wedding four years ago, Bev had more enthusiasm for their workouts, and Carly nearly had to break into a trot to keep up despite being five inches taller.

“Why are you asking me if you’re funny?”

“Because Matt Jacobs thinks I’m not.”

Bev eyed Carly inquisitively. “Since when do you care what he thinks?”

“I don’t. I was just taken aback when he said he didn’t think I was capable of making a joke.”

The mere thought added pep to Carly’s stride, irritation fueling an extra dose of adrenaline. Ever since Matt walked away from her cubicle this morning his comment had been stuck in her craw. “I can’t believe he thinks that,” she added.

“I can’t believe it matters to you. You’re fun, friendly, and everyone likes you. You don’t have to be the office comedian, too. Besides, it’s only his opinion.”

“So you’re saying he’s wrong. I am funny.”

Bev shrugged. “I’m saying, why the big fixation over Matt Jacobs and his opinion of you? Neil insults you all the time and you never bat an eyelash.”

“Because Neil’s always kidding. It’s just his way.”

And Neil wasn’t the iron-chested, dark and studly sex magnate that ruled her dreams every night.

“Maybe Matt was kidding, too,” offered Bev.

“He wasn’t.” Carly had played the conversation over in her mind a dozen times and remembered very specifically that he had not been kidding. He’d truly been shocked when she’d explained her joke about the survey.

And, of course, she also remembered the tiny flutters that had swept through her stomach when his shock transformed into pleasure. He’d almost seemed smitten with her, delighted to see a side of her he hadn’t expected, and for a fraction of a second her body had responded with joy.

Until his words had sunk in and quickly squashed the moment.

“Forget what Matt said, I’ve got something bigger to talk about.” Bev panted, her breath growing heavy as they followed the path along the edge of the marsh.

It had felt like a perfect spring day when they’d stepped out of the office, but now, in the high-noon sun, it was beginning to get warm. Carly noted with relief that they were only a short distance from where the path met up with the trees and the rest of their walk would be shaded.

“You’ve got scoops?” she asked.

“That compatibility survey they’re making us do for the Singles Inc. project.”

That got Carly’s attention. Could they have picked the winners already? She’d thought they had through the week to complete the surveys.

“Remember Patty, my friend at Singles Inc.?” Bev huffed.

“Yeah.”

“According to her, things aren’t exactly as we were told.” She glanced briefly behind them, then went on. “She heard one of the candidates had already been picked by Hall. This whole business about filling out the compatibility surveys is only to find out who’s going to be on the project with him.”

“Him?”

Bev tipped her sunglasses and flashed a blue-eyed glance at Carly. “Yeah, he’s got the man picked out. Which means all the other men on staff filling out the surveys are just wasting their time. Their surveys won’t even be considered, only the women’s.”

Carly shook her head. “I don’t get it.”

“The whole thing is a ruse, Carly. Hall’s not looking for the two most compatible designers on staff, he’s looking for the woman who most closely matches the man he’s chosen for the job.”

As Bev’s words sunk in, an angry pool formed in Carly’s stomach. “Don’t tell me who the man is.”

Bev nodded.

“You’re sure it’s Matt?”

“Positive.”

Steam filled Carly’s veins until she recalled her confrontation with Matt that morning and her anger turned to dread. She’d been so cocky about him having to fill out the survey to get the job, had accused him of trying to cheat even. And all the time Hall had already lined him up for the project.

She slowed her pace and sighed. How long would she continue to make a fool of herself in front of that man? It was bad enough infatuation turned her into a babbling idiot whenever he was around. Now the one moment she’d held her wits long enough to tell him off, she’d ended up being wrong about the whole thing.

It was too humiliating to consider.

“Does he know?”

“I don’t think so. Patty told me they were keeping it really close to the cuff. Only she, her boss and one analyst there are aware of Hall’s instructions on how to tally the surveys. In fact, now that I’ve told you, I’ve been ordered to kill you.”

Carly would have laughed if she wasn’t so dumbfounded, not certain whether she should wallow in embarrassment over popping off to Matt when she was the one with egg on her face or ire that once again he was being handed the big job.

Ire was winning by a nose.

“So all the surveys are for nothing?”

“All the men’s surveys. The women’s are legitimately being used to match against Matt’s.”

“I can’t believe it,” Carly fumed. She placed her hands on her hips and slowed down to a stroll. “Matt’s walking away with another top project again.”

“Matt and whoever strikes the closest match to his survey.”

She stared out over the grassy lawn. The warm day had brought a crowd out from under the fluorescent canopies to enjoy lunch at the tables or hold an outdoor meeting. It was the first sign of spring, normally Carly’s favorite time of year, but today even the good weather wasn’t enough to hold up her spirit.

“Why do they think he’s so great?” she asked. “So he’s got, like, double master’s degrees. Big deal. He’s arrogant and flippant and not the least bit interested in sharing that wealth of talent with anyone else on the team. Why they keep raising the man to the level of he-god, I’ll never know.”

“He-god?”

Carly frowned. “You know what I mean. He doesn’t deserve the constant accolades. There’s a lot more to being a company asset than good Web design.”

“True,” Bev agreed, stepping over to a park bench and plopping down for a rest. “Though he’s got a few assets someone’s company would enjoy.” She smiled as Carly sat down next to her. “You ever noticed him on casual Fridays? Man, does he have a butt for a pair of jeans.”

Noticed? Carly had studied that butt so many times she could pick it out of a lineup. But this wasn’t where she wanted the conversation to go. Matt Jacobs had had enough of her attention over the last two years. If there was ever a day to squelch it, today would be it.

“He used to play pro baseball, you know,” Bev added. “Can you imagine that ass in a pair of those tight-knit baseball pants?”

The Anaheim Nationals, two years in their AA league before he’d been “cut loose,” as Adam had put it. He hadn’t said much more than that, just enough to feed a few steamy images of Matt in a uniform—and then out of it.

She shook off the thought, annoyed that she could be so easily pulled off track. This conversation wasn’t about Matt’s assets but how he’d become her personal liability. If this latest move by Mr. Hall wasn’t enough to permanently exorcise her lust for that man, she seriously needed to consider psychotherapy.

“Can we get back to the subject, please? We’re talking about Singles Inc. and who deserves that job. Mr. Hall lied to all of us. This project was supposed to be a fair game.”

Bev blew out a sympathetic sigh. “I know, but in retrospect, none of this surprises me. It’s our biggest account. There’s no way Hall was going to let the project randomly go to two people on the staff. He needed one person in there as his anchor to make sure the job ran smoothly.”

“And that anchor couldn’t have been me?”

“Carly, they love your work. You and Matt are the two top designers on staff. They still consider you one of the best.”

“They did before Matt came along. Now who knows what they think? I haven’t had a challenging project in over a year. It’s just the same old stuff, info screens without any user interactivity. How am I supposed to keep up my programming skills if I’m just putting graphics and text on pages?”

This job was not working out as she’d planned. She wasn’t supposed to have hit a glass ceiling at the age of twenty-six. She was supposed to be on her way up the ladder, making the steady climb to bigger jobs and a bigger salary. Granted, she hadn’t expected to spend her life working for Hall, but she’d thought as new opportunities opened up she’d continue to be in the running. But since Matt had come on board, her career seemed to have come to a screeching halt, and if she wanted to keep progressing, maybe it was time to accept the fact that she’d have to do it somewhere else.

“I’m tempted to quit.”

Bev scoffed. “And go where? The high-tech industry is barely picking up around here. To find anyone hiring, you practically have to move to Texas.”

“I could go to Web Tactics.”

“Rumor has it they aren’t doing so well.”

Carly’d heard that, too. Oh, who was she kidding? She’d just bought a house with a hefty mortgage. She couldn’t risk losing it by leaving a secure job for something unknown. Wherever she went, she’d be the new gal on the team, the first one on the chopping block if a company decided to downsize, and with so many firms being swallowed up by the big fish or relocating out of state, she wasn’t certain she could take the chance.

“I could move to Texas, but Mom and Jodi need me.”

“They rely on you for a lot.”

Carly sighed. She knew if she left Hall Technologies, she’d find a way to make things work, but making a move like that out of anger wasn’t the smartest thing to do.

Right now she felt stuck, and if there was anything Carly hated, it was feeling trapped without choices.

“It’s not fair,” she said, the tone coming off whinier than she’d intended. “They should be giving everyone opportunities to be challenged. When they announced how they were handling the assignment of Singles Inc., I thought they’d finally seen that and done something about it.” Gazing out toward a clump of cattails, she added, “I guess I was wrong.”

“I don’t know about that. I heard another rumor today.”

“There’s more?”

Bev nodded.

“Is it good news?”

“I don’t know. It’s all in how you choose to speculate.”

Carly clasped her fingers around the seat of the wooden bench and braced herself. “What is it?”

“I heard Hall’s planning to open a new management position.”

“A manager?”

This was news. Mr. Hall had always preached the hazards of being top-heavy, which was why so far he only had two managers under him—Hugh Simonds, in charge of the programmers, and Frank Meyer, Carly’s own manager and head of the creative-design team. The sales staff reported directly to Mr. Hall, as did Renee and Andrea, the two women who handled Human Resources and Payroll. The idea of a new position opening up was a big deal.

“Any idea who’s getting the job?”

Bev shook her head. “Not a clue. I don’t even know if he’s planning to hire from within or bring in someone from the outside. But what I’ve heard is he wants to put together a team that exclusively handles the bigger projects and that he plans to assign the team a leader.”

“A special project team, huh?”

“To take on jobs like Singles Inc. I guess he wants to keep moving in that direction.”

The mention of Singles Inc. darkened Carly’s mood. “And if he’s thinking about hiring from within, you know what golden child he’s got in mind.”

Bev quickly held up a hand. “No one’s said Matt’s getting that job.”

“But it’s obvious he’d be considered. They’re handing him Singles Inc., aren’t they?”

Bev shrugged and Carly’s infuriation mounted. “I’ll kill myself if they give him that job.”

“Carly, you’re getting too far ahead of yourself. No one even knows if Hall’s going to promote anyone on the team. He could have a golfing buddy or some IBM crony in mind. Who knows? And if he was planning to promote from within, who’s to say you wouldn’t be considered? You’ve been here from the start, have handled just as many big projects as Matt has and you’re a way better people person. There’s a lot more to managing staff than technical expertise.”

Carly knew that, but did Mr. Hall? And what if he did think technical skills mattered most? If that was the case, whoever handled Singles Inc. would have the best shot at proving themselves where that was concerned.

And she wanted a shot at that job.

She deserved it. In fact, she shouldn’t even have to fight for it after all these years. She should simply get it. But apparently Mr. Hall didn’t see it that way. Which meant she’d have to show him.

“I need to get on that project,” she said.

“Huh?”

“Singles Inc. I need that job.”

“Then you’ll have to match Matt’s answers closer than anyone else on the team.”

Carly’s hopes faded. “And of all the women on the team, I probably know the least about him.”

“But you and I are the only women on the team who know he’s the guy to match.”

True, she did have that advantage. But unfortunately, thanks to a two-year-long resentment, coupled with her relentless attraction toward the man, she’d all but avoided Matt from the start. What she knew about him could be jotted down on a two-inch sticky note. She knew he was single, lived in an upscale condo down in Sausalito, drove a shiny BMW, had once played baseball and looked delicious in faded Levi’s. That was the sum of her Matt Jacobs knowledge. Five basic facts. Plenty to feed her sexual daydreams but hardly enough to strike gold on a compatibility survey.

Attempting to change her answers to match his would be a total shot in the dark. Unless she had help.

“How close a friend are you to Patty?”

Bev shook her head in protest. “Oh, no. You could get in big trouble. Our company’s image would be at stake, and you know how Hall feels about that. If Singles Inc. found out we’d tampered with their survey and it got back to Hall, heads would roll.” She added with conviction, “I need my job and so does Patty. I can’t ask her to get Matt’s answers for you.”

Carly frowned. “I won’t ask you to, but it’s so unfair. You know as well as I do, I deserve a shot at this. I was the lead Web designer before Matt stepped in, and you were just as angry as me when he kicked me off that first project by telling Frank he could handle it alone. We were supposed to work together on that.”

“Jay-Lee Personnel Services. I remember that.”

“I don’t want you to do anything that would put your job at risk. Just help me brainstorm how I can swing this.” Pushing off the bench, the two women returned to their workout, but this time headed back toward the office. “We still have through Thursday to finish our surveys, right?”

“I don’t think that’s changed. Holly and Paul are only coming back from vacation tomorrow. Hall wanted everyone to have an equal shot at the project.”

Carly snorted. “Except for Matt.”

What a joke, she thought, Mr. Hall making such a big deal out of the survey, how Singles Inc. had liked his idea so much they were considering developing a new survey designed for corporate teams. It was a huge publicity stunt, and in the end it was all a sham.

“Brian could get you in,” Bev said.

Carly eyed her friend and grinned. Of course. Brian Shanahan, one of their programmers barely out of college, who prided himself for his hacking skills. And he was pretty good, too. Heck, knowing Brian, he’d probably already hacked into the database just to see everyone’s answers.

“I don’t know if I trust him to keep his mouth shut, though,” Bev warned.

Good point, but Carly remained unfazed. “I’ll take my chances.”

“Really, Carly, you need to think twice about this. You could get in serious trouble.”

“If I have to sit back and watch Matt walk away with both this project and a promotion, I’m not sure I want this job anyway.”

“You say that now because you’re angry, but think about your house and your family. Is it really worth the risk?”

One side of Carly would say no, but the other side wasn’t about to get stomped on out of fear. Security was one thing, getting passed over for jobs she deserved called for taking a stand, no matter how she had to do it.

“I can’t let this happen without putting up a fair fight. If Mr. Hall had Matt in mind for the project, he should have just assigned Matt a partner instead of dreaming up this stupid survey idea. And if I could say so to Mr. Hall without jeopardizing you, I’d do it.”

Bev gasped. “Oh, you can’t tell Hall what you know. He’d trail it right back to Patty in a heartbeat.”

“Of course I won’t. But that means I’ve got to even the stakes my own way, because if I don’t, if I keep sitting around letting them choose Matt over me, I’ll never get anywhere in this company. And if I’m in a dead-end job, then I’m not risking much, am I?”

“I just worry what they’d do if they knew you tampered with the results. They went to great lengths to make sure everyone answered honestly. Remember that speech Hall gave about people comparing answers?”

Carly remembered it, though it seemed pretty hypocritical given what she knew now. Taking a deep breath, she elbowed her friend affectionately, Bev’s warnings heeded but her decision made. “Then I’ll just have to make sure I don’t get caught.”

3

CARLY OPENED THE door to a ringing phone. Hoping to catch it, she dropped her purse and take-out dinner on her entryway table, rushed to the kitchen and grabbed the cordless from the counter.

She’d had a private conversation with Brian Shanahan this afternoon, and he was all but certain he could get her the survey answers she wanted. If this was him calling already, he was better than she thought.

“Hello?”

“Hi, honey, it’s Mom.”

She dropped her shoulders. “Hey, Mom, what’s up?”

“I just got Jodi’s softball camp information in the mail.”

“That’s great. So we got her signed up in time.”

As a sixth-grade-graduation gift, Carly had paid for her younger sister to attend a weeklong softball camp. It was, in a way, a gift to both Jodi and their mother, Jodi having dreamed of going all year, and their mother needing a break between working full-time, taking night courses at the JC and raising a daughter alone. As she’d had to scrape together the cost, Carly had just made the payment under the wire, so it was a relief to get the printed confirmation of Jodi’s enrollment.

“Yeah, and she’s thrilled. She’s making you a special thank-you present for when you come over Friday.”

Carly smiled. “That’s sweet.”

“But I was wondering if you could do me one more favor.” Her mother sighed. “The strap on Jodi’s backpack broke and there’s no way to fix it.”

“Does she need a new pack?”

“I remembered you’d said you were going to the outlet mall. Could you look for a purple backpack? I checked Deal-Mart but they didn’t have purple, and I don’t have the time to run around town looking for one.”

“Sure, I can look around,” Carly said.

“Would you do that for me? There’s no rush. She can do with her old one for a while, but I’ve got finals—”

“Mom, it’s no problem. I’ll find Jodi a purple backpack.”

“You’re my saving grace, sweetheart. Listen, I’ve got to get dinner going before her practice, but we’ll see you for Jodi’s game Friday, right?”

“I’ll be there.”

“Love you, hon,” her mother said before the phone went dead.

Carly pressed the off button, then placed the phone on its cradle and sighed. A purple backpack at the end of the school season. No problem.

Moving back to the entryway to fetch her dinner, she now wished she’d skipped the burrito and made something at home. She could use her seven dollars back. Not that she didn’t make a good living at Hall Technologies. It was just that she had steep goals for her finances.

Carly insisted ten percent of her income went into a retirement fund. Add to that the two-bedroom bungalow she’d purchased last year, payments on her student loans, an unexpected transmission overhaul on her 2001 Grand Prix, and it was no wonder at the end of each pay period she was down to her last dollar. It didn’t help that her mother and sister were barely scraping by thanks to a father who considered child support optional.

It was a constant struggle for Carly, trying to help her family on one hand yet still protect herself from ending up like her mother—unskilled, unsupported and still in love with a man who’d never learned to care for anyone but himself.

Not as hungry as she’d been a moment ago, she picked up the paper sack and carried it into her pale pink kitchen. If things kept going the way they were, she’d have to live with the previous owner’s decor longer than she’d hoped—a fact that could likely cause her to go insane.

Though the house had come with a good-size yard and solid bones, cosmetically it was like living inside a giant bottle of Pepto Bismol. To say the former owners liked pink was an understatement. Every room had been painted, floored and tiled in some various shade of fuchsia, and though Carly had made progress in some rooms, ripping up carpet and priming walls, the kitchen and lone bathroom still thrived in their pristine bubblegum state. Only one corner of her eat-in kitchen had seen the threat of demolition, and that was where Bev had tried to tear off a loose corner of wallpaper, only to discover that beyond that four-inch square, the cheery pink teapots with the pale violet flowers were virtually cemented to the drywall, destined to rival the ancient pyramids in their time-tested strength.

But that was okay. Carly owned the home, and that was all that mattered. She’d qualified for the mortgage with her salary alone and, in the process, bought a slice of land in an old but desirable Marin County neighborhood. It was the security she’d never had growing up, and once she doubled the value with her pink-extinguishing transformation, it would be the bank account she’d never had, as well.

She unrolled the burrito from the foil paper and plopped it on a plate. The rustling in the kitchen was like a dinner bell for her cat, Mr. Doodles, who didn’t waste time jumping up on the counter to see what she’d prepared.

Carly pushed the cat to the floor and spat, “Bad kitty!” but her efforts to train the cat had long become futile. Mr. Doodles—the name given the gray tabby by her little sister Jodi—was a horribly ill-behaved cat who roamed the house as if he owned it and did as he pleased. Carly had no idea how to correct his behavior, none of the advice she’d been given making any lasting progress. So she’d begun to accept the fact that Mr. Doodles wouldn’t change and she’d have to love him despite his faults.

Moving to the fridge to fetch him his own dinner, her phone rang again, and Carly assumed her mother had forgotten to mention something else.

“Hello?” she asked, crinkling the foil in one hand and dropping it in the wastebasket.

“I’m in.”

She paused for a moment, not immediately recognizing the voice.

“Brian?”

“I amaze even myself sometimes.”

Yes! she thought. She hadn’t wanted to get her hopes up even though Brian had assured her he could get to the Singles Inc. database where they’d input their answers. With his frat-boy immaturity, she sometimes suspected Brian overstated his abilities.

“You’ve got Matt’s answers to the survey?”

“I’ve got everyone’s answers to the survey. They’ve used a special code to isolate ours from the main population.”

Her excitement was tempered by a flush of heat to her cheeks. It hadn’t occurred to her that by asking Brian to get Matt’s survey answers he’d end up privy to all of them—including hers.

Oh, to heck with it. If Brian wanted a thrill over her answers, he could have it. Getting on this project was worth whatever he might end up thinking about her and her sexual outlook.

“There’s just one problem.”

“Problem?”

“Do you have Matt’s code name?”

“Code name?”

“Remember the code names Hall gave us to protect our privacy? That’s the only identifying information attached to each person’s survey. I couldn’t decipher individual workstation IDs—which is actually impressive. Singles Inc. has some pretty decent security considering they designed this in-house. I don’t usually see homegrown applications this good.”

“So what does that mean?”

“It means unless you know what code name Matt was given, we can only guess which one is his.”

Carly’s mind raced in search of a solution. There had to be a way to figure out which survey was Matt’s.

“How many people have filled out the survey so far?”

“Sixteen, which is two short of the people we have on staff. I’m guessing that’s Holly and Paul.”

The number didn’t surprise her. She’d asked around this afternoon, and though the survey had been optional, everyone had decided to fill it out, curious to be included in the results. Even though a few weren’t terribly interested in the project, everyone wanted to know who they most closely matched at Hall Technologies, if just for the fun of it.

“Now, we could eliminate some through logic,” Brian added. “I know mine, you know yours, and I can obviously separate the men and women based on the code names.” Since Carly was given the code name Gidget, she guessed Brian was right. “But that’s still leaving you with almost ten men. You’ll have to find a way to get his name without raising suspicion.”

She stared at her pink linoleum floor, disappointed but not defeated. Though she had no idea how, sometime between now and Thursday she’d get Matt’s code name. Already several ideas spun through her brain—all of them bad, but ideas nonetheless. She’d simply have to give it more thought, maybe consult with a trusted friend or two, but some way she’d figure it out. This was her career, her financial stability and her future at stake, all three of those things definitely worth it.

Two days to get one silly little code? No problem.

MATT LOOKED UP from his computer screen to see a pair of beautiful aqua-blue eyes staring back at him over the cubicle wall.

The sight gave him a start. Carly Abrams had never paid him a visit, nor had those dark coral lips ever been curved in a smile while pointed in his direction. Which meant he’d either fallen asleep at his desk and was dreaming or something strange was up.

She circled around and stepped into his cube, giving him a close-up view of his very favorite shirt—a low-slung wraparound that hugged her curves and accentuated her breasts in a way that should be outlawed in the workplace. The whole thing was held together by a simple bow at the waist, a bow that taunted him with the knowledge that just one tug could expose the delightful presents inside.

He dragged his eyes away and looked up at her smile. “Carly,” he said, the word raspy from a mouth that had just gone dry. He cleared his throat and straightened in his chair. “What can I do for you?”

“I was wondering if you were through with my book. I need to take a look at it.”

“I put it back on your shelf yesterday.”

Her brows arched and those soft lips formed an O, the way they did in the fantasy he hadn’t been able to shake since he’d seen those two blasted survey answers yesterday. Except, in his dream it was the look she had after he drizzled caramel syrup on her breasts and topped his Carly sundae with a dollop of whipped cream.

“Stupid me, I didn’t even look.” She shrugged her shoulders and chuckled nervously. “I get distracted and lose half my brain.”

He knew the feeling. It was the same thing he’d been dealing with since it had sunk in that his available and most desirable coworker had a secret fetish for kinky sex. It had culminated this morning around two o’clock, when he’d been startled out of a dead sleep by a hard-on and the echoing sound of Carly Abrams’s orgasmic screams.

And he’d been walking bull-legged ever since.

It was difficult enough trying to focus on the job this morning; that she’d picked today of all days to make her maiden voyage to his side of the floor had to be some sort of cosmic joke.

She leaned against his desktop and casually crossed her long, slender legs. Her silky flowered skirt reminded him of a cottage garden, and he tried hard to restore the longtime image he’d had of her. The safe image. The one that allowed him to forget the sexy body and concentrate on getting ahead at the firm. Mary Quite Contrary, the sunny, friendly girl-next-door who always referred to Brayton as Mr. Hall, brought in plates of homemade zucchini bread and gave people rides to the mechanics when their cars were in the shop.

“Well, um, since I’m here…” she said. “About yesterday—I was out of line and I wanted to apologize.”

He blinked. “Yesterday?”

“You know, about the survey, you having to compete to get the Singles Inc. job.” She fidgeted with the edge of his desk, trailing a finger along the grain of the fake oak veneer. “You caught me at a bad time. I was cranky and it was rude of me to take it out on you. So I just wanted to say I’m sorry.”

Matt tried hard to rewind the whole incident. Yes, she’d popped off in a way that had had him questioning her stability, but he knew he’d been the one to start it by teasing her about her survey answers. If anyone should apologize, it should be him.

“I hadn’t exactly started the conversation off on the right foot,” he admitted.

“But that was no excuse for attacking you like that, so…” She let go of the desk and held out a hand. “Truce?”

He stared at those slim fingers, those perfectly polished nails, and found it ironic that she’d come here seeking exactly what he’d hoped to accomplish yesterday. His attempt at broaching a friendship had failed, but if things went his way, she’d be his employee very soon, and he should thank the stars for this second chance.

Taking her soft hand in his, he gave it a welcome shake, trying hard to ignore his body’s reaction to the sizzling warmth of her touch. “Forgive me and I’ll forgive you.”

“It’s a deal.”

She slid her palm off his and smiled brightly. “So did you choose to fill out the survey?”

Straightening in his seat, he cleared his throat and said, “Yeah. I figured, why not?”

“So that makes everyone, then. I’m surprised. Some people don’t like working on the bigger projects, but I guess it was the intrigue of the survey that had them going along.”

“Hall did say something about everyone getting some sort of results.”

“I heard that, too.” She tucked a strand of brown hair behind her ear and nodded while she spoke. “I don’t know what, though.”

“Me, either,” he replied.

Then an awkward silence fell between them. She glanced around his cube, trying to appear casual but not pulling it off, and the longer she stood there tapping a fingernail on his desktop, the more Matt began to wonder what she was really doing there.

He opened his mouth to inquire, but she cut him off.

“It sounds like Mr. Hall has an interest in movies.”

He pursed his brow. “I didn’t know that.”

“Well, those code names we all got for the survey seem to be characters from films. At least that’s what we’re guessing.” Grinning, she added, “Mine was Gidget.”

Matt couldn’t hold back his burst of laughter, though it occurred to him too late it might destroy their newfound truce—and the quirky look in her eyes said it might have.

“I’m sorry,” he quickly shot out. “It’s just so…perfect.”

She shrugged good-naturedly, making Matt feel like a cad.

“I can’t argue with that. I suppose some people might see me as…”

“Bubbly?” he offered.

A faint blush colored her cheeks, and he wished like hell he could learn to keep his mouth closed. For some reason, whenever she was near, he ended up either tongue-tied or blurting the wrong thing. It was the main reason he’d gone into Frank’s office and asked to handle that first project on his own. He’d wanted to make a good impression at the new firm and he’d quickly discovered that wasn’t going to happen in proximity to Carly, where his cock forever vied for attention and his brain wouldn’t shift into gear.

Apparently, two years later, nothing had changed.

“Anyway,” she said, “we’ve been comparing code names around the office. Do you know what Neil got?”

Matt shook his head.

“Patton!” She laughed more heartily than the situation warranted. “Is that a riot?”

“Yes, that’s a good one.”

“And who else?” she pondered, holding her chin and staring wistfully off into space. “Oh, Bev got Scarlett, and Brian got Hal. We’re guessing Hal’s the computer from 2001: A Space Odyssey.”

Matt nodded and smiled, trying to will himself to stay relaxed, keep his mouth shut and not inadvertently embarrass her again. If she agreed to work for him, he’d have to get past this magnetic field between them that continually garbled his thoughts and had him chewing shoe leather. But it wasn’t easy when those breasts jiggled as she laughed or that flowery scent swarmed his nose, or those Caribbean eyes sparkled with such sweetness he wanted to scoop her up and take a bite or—oh, hell. Maybe they were better off hating each other.

Her smile slowly faded and she returned to the awkward fidgeting that had left him suspect before. Okay, so apology for yesterday accepted and a truce agreed. What was with the sudden small talk and this apparent desire to gab after two years of total avoidance?

“So what Hollywood feature did Mr. Hall put you in?”

He shook off his thoughts. “Pardon?”

“Your code name. Who did he give you?” Then she quickly held up a hand. “Not that you have to answer that. I realize they’re confidential. We were just having fun with it, you know, seeing what Mr. Hall had assigned to each of us.” Giggling, she added, “Heck, for all I know, his wife might have made them up. Or maybe he picked them off a list from Singles Inc.” She blushed again and began to back toward the entrance to his cubicle. “Mr. Hall might not have picked them out at all. I don’t think anyone asked. Or it could have been random or—”

“Rocky.”

She stopped her rambling and stared. “Huh?”

“Rocky. He gave me Rocky.”

Her mouth hung ajar for a moment before a twinkle lit in her eyes. It was a gleam too bright for simple amusement and it struck him as odd. Something was definitely hanging under the surface here, but what? She’d wanted his code name? It wouldn’t get her anything without the password. So why the sudden interest in bringing him in on the office chatter?

“I like it,” she said.

“Like what?”

“Rocky. I’d be flattered if I were you.”

Matt hadn’t given it any thought, though now that he did, he wasn’t sure he agreed. “Rocky wasn’t the brightest of bulbs.”

She raised a sarcastic brow. “Neither was Gidget. But at least Rocky was a hero. He represented strength and determination.”

Well, he might have that.

Taking a deep breath, she stepped back and clasped her hands into fists. “Well, I won’t keep you any longer. I just wanted to apologize for yesterday and…”

“No problem.”

She nodded. “Good. Well, I’ll see you around.”

Then she turned and walked—make that scurried—away. He watched her backside as she rushed quickly down the aisle before disappearing into the sea of cubicles, then he shook his head and settled back in his seat.

In his two years at Hall Technologies that was officially the strangest conversation he’d ever had, but at least it did one thing—it had momentarily taken his mind off the idea of her naked in his bed.

Now his thoughts were consumed with what exactly Carly Abrams was up to.

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