"No, you didn't. And technically, you haven't gotten naked for me yet," he said, wrapping one arm around her and kissing the top of her head. "But we still have a few days, no need to rush."

She laughed. What else could she do? "I'm not getting naked for you, Trent. We do not need to have s.e.x, because it would only complicate things. But really, I should be the one apologizing. I shouldn't have started that."

"You're not hearing me complain, are you?" he said, smiling. "And personally, I bet you dream about it tonight, you know, everything that just happened, and where it could go if you let it. Then eventually, you'll decide to let this thing go . . . as far as it can."

She splashed him playfully. "I've never met a guy so c.o.c.ky."

"Confident." He pushed against the ledge to stand, then stepped out of the tub. "But obviously, we're done with our-bonding-tonight; however, I should warn you, this is far from over, just so you know." He grabbed one of the towels and wrapped it around his waist, but not before Marissa saw the evidence of his unfulfilled desire.

"I'm sorry," she said again, and he had the nerve to laugh.

"Sure you are," he challenged. "I'm betting you left me this way just so you could size me up." Then, to her complete shock, he opened the towel to give her a better look at his hardened length, pressing against his suit. "Well, how do I measure up, darling?"

"Very well," she said automatically, then her cheeks flamed, and his laugh filled the night air.

"You know, you're as feisty now as you were when we were kids." He secured the towel again, then he held a hand out to help her exit the tub.

"We did have a lot of fun together back then, didn't we?" she asked, taking a towel from him and drying off.

"Yeah, we did, though I'm suspecting you've forgotten a lot of that in your teenage fury over that dance thing. I'm going to make that up to you," he said, turning off the switch that controlled the hot tub jets.

"Trent," she started, but he kept talking.

"And eventually, we're going to get to more of those not-so-kidlike things that will also take advantage of the fiery spirit you're trying to tame. You let go tonight, Rissi, and like it or not, I helped it happen."

"That kiss went too far," she said. "And you're wrong. I won't let it happen again. I can't."

He acted as though she hadn't said a thing. "So, Ms. Kincaid, do you want to have s.e.x now?"

"What?" she asked, tightening the towel around her, then tucking it in at her chest to make sure the thing kept her covered. No way did she need to get anywhere near naked again tonight, particularly when he'd ignored her declaration that they weren't going any further, and consequently asked her to have s.e.x. She shivered again, and wasn't exactly sure whether it was due to the night air against her damp skin or the awareness that she did want to have s.e.x with Trent Jackson, the guy who, merely days ago, was the enemy. No s.e.x with Trent, no weddings with Trent, no more kisses with Trent, no more semi getting naked with Trent. No s.e.x with Trent, no weddings with Trent, no more kisses with Trent, no more semi getting naked with Trent.

Her list was getting longer by the minute.

"I asked if you wanted to have s.e.x now," he repeated.

"No," she lied. "And we don't need to kiss again either," she added, for good measure, as the two of them crossed the patio and she spotted Petie, dozing in the center of her bed.

"Lucky dog, in your bed," Trent said, and Marissa grinned.

"You really don't give up, do you?"

"Not if I can help it," he said. "So no s.e.x tonight?"

"Looks like I already have a male in my bed."

"Uh-huh. Well, how about a run together in the morning?" he asked, shifting gears pretty darn fast, so fast that Marissa had to think about her answer.

"A run?"

"Yeah, a brisk run at dawn to start the day. I try to run every other day, and tomorrow's the day."

Marissa remembered his entering the apartment Monday morning in his jogging shorts. All hot and sweaty and hot and smiling and hot . . .

"Rissi? Want to join me? We can't leave the apartment alone, so either you go with me, or I miss my morning exercise. And I'll admit that if I go too long without something I'm used to, I get cranky."

She had no doubt he wasn't merely referring to running, but she didn't want to touch the other implication. "I've never been jogging in my life. There's no way I could keep up with you."

"Don't worry, I'll be gentle."

And again, she knew better than to touch that remark. "You really jog every other day?"

"Five miles minimum," he said, reaching over her shoulder to turn off the tree lights and leaving them in predominant darkness, with only a hint of moonlight filtering through the trees. Uncomfortable with the intimacy of their new environment, Marissa stepped inside her room and turned on the light. Petie growled and put a paw over his eyes.

"If you can keep the pace slow enough for me, and if you're willing to drop it to a walk if I need you to, then I'll go." She didn't want him to miss out on his normal routine because she wasn't all that "into" exercising.

"Great," he said, then he kissed her forehead again, as a married man would kiss his wife good-bye before heading to work. Except Marissa wouldn't want a mere peck on the forehead from her husband. Oh, no, if Trent were her husband, she'd want a make-your-knees-weak gropefest each morning before he headed out the door, the kind of kiss she saw Amy and Landon enjoying beside his truck, and the kind of kiss she knew Trent was quite capable of giving, since she'd been completely lost in his kiss merely moments ago, in the hot tub.

She inadvertently glanced back at the tub.

"It was nice, wasn't it? Our soak in the tub," he asked, his words feathering against the sh.e.l.l of her ear.

When had he stepped so close?

Marissa sucked in a breath, swallowed. "Yeah, it was, but I really am glad we stopped things."

"Not we," he reminded. "You. And I'm not so certain you're all that glad about it, but I'll leave you alone about it, for now."

"Thanks," she whispered, still entranced by the way his warm breath felt against her ear. What would it feel like to have Trent nibbling on her lobe, or her neck? And she already knew what it felt like to have him paying homage to her b.r.e.a.s.t.s. It felt . . . right.

"Rissi?" he said again, still disarmingly close to her ear.

"Um-hmm?"

"It worked, again."

She squinted and tried to decipher his meaning. "What worked?"

"The Hershey's request. I asked for s.e.x, and I'm getting a morning jog."

She pulled away from him and shoved him in the chest. "You wanted wanted s.e.x," she said. "And don't you even try to deny it." s.e.x," she said. "And don't you even try to deny it."

"h.e.l.l, I wanted the big Hershey bar, too, but I'm no dummy. I'll take what I can get, and for the record, every time I asked for a bargain, I got closer to the prize." He touched a finger to her lower lip, then grinned. "Sleep well, Rissi. I'll wake you up, bright and early, and until then . . . dream of me."

Who in their right mind starts the day with a five-mile run?

-MARISSA K KINCAID

Chapter 17.

The next morning, Trent opened the door to the apartment and immediately heard the phone blaring. He really needed to turn the volume down on that thing. "Go ahead," he said, holding the door open while a panting Marissa stumbled through, and while her faithful silver puppy yapped happily at their return.

"Oh, Petie, it was horrible," she said, going straight to the kitchen. "Need water."

Trent chuckled, closing the door and watching her cute, sweat-covered body absorb yet another bottle of water. He'd carried two large bottles for the run. She downed hers during the first mile, then finished off his in mile three, which they walked. They'd also walked miles four and five, but Trent didn't mind. It was fun listening to her fuss, watching the sweat bead on her chest above her cute black sports bra, and seeing her try her best to make him feel like a total a.s.s for making her start the day with a run. He had to give her an A for effort, but he didn't feel like an a.s.s at all. He felt like the luckiest guy in the world. In spite of her grumbling professions to the contrary, he truly believed she was falling for him, almost as much as he was falling for her. It would happen; she'd see they were meant to be together. But if he didn't get her to realize it before Friday, she might not give him another chance. The woman was just stubborn enough to stay away from him for twelve months to win that ad campaign. And dammit if he didn't think her stubborn streak was cute, too.

He punched the speaker b.u.t.ton on the phone, but only received a dial tone. "They hung up," he said. "But they'll call back. We're supposed to be on the air now."

"I hope they do call back," she said, wiping excess water off her mouth with the back of her hand. She'd tried to drink the entire bottle at once, and much of the liquid had dribbled freely. Trent wanted to lick her clean, but knew she wasn't ready for that. Yet.

"Looks like they left messages earlier," he said. "We've had six since we went jogging, and we're only five minutes late for the broadcast." He started to press the Play Play b.u.t.ton, but stopped when the phone blared to life again. "We're on," he said, pushing the speaker b.u.t.ton. "Liars and cheats." b.u.t.ton, but stopped when the phone blared to life again. "We're on," he said, pushing the speaker b.u.t.ton. "Liars and cheats."

"So you are still there," Speedy said through the line. "We were beginning to think you either killed each other or eloped. I was betting on the eloping, but most of our listeners seemed to be leaning toward a murder. In fact, we were in the process of starting a poll and we're about to take one call now."

"Go ahead and put her on the air. She's been waiting a while," Coleman said. "And then we'll start chatting with Trent and Marissa to find out where they've been."

"Okay," Speedy said, while Marissa dropped the empty bottle in the trash, then grabbed another one from the fridge. She walked slowly to the living room and dropped into a chair near the phone, all the while glaring at Trent as though she'd vote the murder option if she were taking Coleman and Speedy's poll. Wicked short, black curls covered her head, with that s.e.xy one Trent adored teasing her temple. And her eyes were fiery mad, even though he had stopped running each and every time she wanted and walked as much as she wanted.

"You'll feel better later," he mouthed.

She merely snarled, then drank more water.

"All right, we have our caller, who has been holding for a while, since we were waiting for our guests of honor to answer the phone," Speedy said, snickering.

"Sorry about that," Trent interjected.

"Not really a problem," Coleman said. "And we'll get more details later. Right now, we have Nan on the phone from Marietta. How are you this morning, Nan?"

"I'm fine, and I was going to vote on the murder option, but I heard on the radio that they've answered the phone, so I guess that one isn't a valid choice anymore, huh?"

"Well, you know," Speedy said. "Come to think of it, we haven't heard from Ms. Kincaid this morning. You still breathing, Marissa?"

Her snarl intensified, then she grinned sneakily, the little s.h.i.t.

"Rissi," Trent warned.

Speedy cackled. "Don't tell me. She isn't talking to you, Jackson? What'd you do?"

"I know what he did," Nan said. "That's the main reason I called in to vote for murder, because when I saw the two of them this morning on my way to work, Ms. Kincaid looked like she wanted to kill him."

"You saw Ms. Kincaid and Mr. Jackson this morning?" Coleman asked.

"Yep. They were running near Powers Ferry Road in Marietta, near my office. I noticed him immediately, well, because, you know, I notice guys that look that good running. You do look good, not that I'm hitting on you, because I'm happily married, but you can still window shop, as long as you don't buy the merchandise," Nan said, then laughed.

"I agree with that philosophy," Speedy said. "So tell us about what you saw of our popular couple."

"Well, I stopped at a red light, and they ended up crossing the road right in front of me, and that's when I realized that it was Trent and Marissa. I thought it was so cool because there I was, trying to get to work in time to listen to the broadcast on my computer, and then there they were right in front of me. I've got to tell you, our whole office is really enjoying the fight on the air, but seeing it firsthand was even better. She was really p.i.s.sed."

"Sorry, Coleman, I didn't realize where she was going until it was too late to beep it," Speedy said.

"Oh, shoot. I forgot," Nan said. "I'll watch my mouth. Anyway, she was obviously ticked off at him and actually stopped running and tossed her water bottle at him."

Trent grinned, remembering the moment vividly, while Rissi glared.

"He deserved it," she said.

"Aha, she does live," Speedy answered. "And did did you throw a water bottle at him, Ms. Kincaid?" you throw a water bottle at him, Ms. Kincaid?"

"I tried."

"That's the truth," Nan said. "She flung it as hard as she could, but he just reached out a hand and caught it. Looked like a baseball player catching a line drive. Pretty impressive, if you ask me, but it didn't seem to impress her any. She stood there fuming and crossed her arms as though she wasn't going to move. Then he started laughing and twisted the cap off the bottle and gave it to her, and she drank it."

"Then what?" Coleman asked.

"Then he said something to her, and she nodded, and then they started walking, while she drank the water. Oh, and then the guy behind me honked his horn. I'm not sure how long the light was green before I started moving," Nan said with a giggle. "But I couldn't miss out on that show."

"I'd have watched, too," Speedy said.

"So," Coleman said, "why was she so ticked, Jackson? And what did you say to her to calm her down? I mean, there are lots of us married men out there who could use a pointer or two on calming down a wife when she's in the mood to throw something." He laughed, then added, "Just kidding, Margaret."

Trent cleared his throat. "See, I usually run at least five miles every other day, and since we can't leave the apartment alone, I asked if Rissi would run with me. She agreed, but she made some stipulations this morning, one of which was for me to tell her when we finished the first mile so we could walk the second one."

"And?" Speedy asked.

"And she was doing so well, hardly even breathing hard after the first mile, that I decided to wait and tell her after another mile."

"Oh, that'd get you the couch for sleeping quarters at my house," Speedy said. "After you got a hairbrush to the head." you got a hairbrush to the head."

"Well, he's obviously a rookie," Coleman said. "Listen, Jackson, if you tell a woman you're going to do something, then you better do it. It makes things easier."

"Yeah, things like breathing," Speedy added.

"Oh, so that's that's why you threw the bottle," Nan said through the line. "Well, I don't blame you, honey, I'd have thrown it at my man, too, even if his b.u.t.t did look that good in gym shorts." why you threw the bottle," Nan said through the line. "Well, I don't blame you, honey, I'd have thrown it at my man, too, even if his b.u.t.t did look that good in gym shorts."

"Thanks," Marissa said, nodding. "I'm glad you understand."

"Hey, I understand, too. The guy should've told you after the first mile," Speedy said.

"Wait a minute, now," Trent said. "We were late to this broadcast as it was. Imagine how late we'd have been if I'd let her start walking a mile earlier?"