Have Me. Jo Leigh

got very chummy by the time they reached the lobby. She was, of course, stuck in the back, and Mr. Swiss Watch’s back was squishing her boobs. Thank goodness for the layers of coat and clothes between them because she only wanted to think about her boobs in terms of last night and Jake.

      She smiled as she crossed the lobby, nodding at the concierge and the doorman before hitting the street. It was freezing even though there was no snow left on Madison Avenue.

      What she should have done was immediately get in line for a cab, but what she did was cross the street, swimming with the tide of dark coats and clicking heels, to Starbucks. Inevitably there was a long line, but she was desperate.

      While she waited, she took out her cell phone and called Dani, her assistant, who would be wondering where the hell Rebecca was. Dani would have called her by nine, but not before.

      “You okay?” Dani asked immediately.

      “Headache. Late night. Everything okay there?”

      “Except for your to-do list, everything’s great. Mr. Turner called, of course.”

      Rebecca sighed. Turner was in charge of catering at the Four Seasons. “What now?”

      “Something to do with the gift baskets for the guests, but he wouldn’t tell me what because I’m either a spy for another hotel or an idiot, I’m not quite sure.”

      “I’ll call him when I get in. Do me a favor?”

      “I’ll start the coffee in fifteen minutes. Are you getting something to eat?”

      “Yes, thanks.”

      “See you soon.”

      Rebecca tried not to yawn, which made her yawn, and then she decided, the hell with it, she was going to think about Jake. To say he’d left an impression was … well, leaving him at the crack of dawn had been ridiculously difficult.

      They’d been outside, on a very public street, and still she hadn’t been able to stop kissing him. She’d blamed him, of course, said it was all his fault, but it hadn’t been. She’d gotten all tingly the moment her lips met his. Tingly. God, who even said that. No one, that’s who.

      The one very good thing he’d done was not ask for her phone number. Because that would have been stepping over the line. Last night was a one-night deal. Okay, so they’d technically had sex this morning in the shower, but that went under the rubric of one-night stand, so there was no need to get picky about it. The essence of the agreement, from both sides, had been that it was to be a singular event. Nothing more. One incredible, fantastic, amazing, toe-curling night. The end. Anything else was out of the question.

      It would have been different if she was the kind of woman who regularly practiced recreational sex. She knew a lot who did, but she wasn’t one of them. First of all, she had too much on her plate as it was, and second, it never worked, not really. Sex and the City tried to glorify it, but in the end, all that fooling around didn’t amount to much.

      She’d rather do without, thanks.

      But goodness, if there was ever a man who appealed in a Sex and the City way, it was Jake. She closed her eyes as she pictured the way he’d looked at her with so much hunger she’d forgotten how to breathe. His hands on her bottom in the shower, such big hands, and such a very hard cock—

      “Hey, lady, move it. Some of us got jobs to go to.”

      Rebecca’s eyes jerked open, her face flushed with heat, even though she knew no one could tell what she’d been thinking, but her voice was firm and in control as she ordered the biggest espresso they made. And a lemon bar.

      “LEAVE IT ALONE, OLD MAN.”

      “I didn’t say a word.” Mike Donnelly rolled himself out of the path of the coffeemaker.

      “I’m in no mood,” Jake said, filling his cup for the third time since he’d gotten up.

      His father looked at his watch again. Jake knew it was noon. So he’d gone to bed the minute he’d gotten home, what of it. He wasn’t missing out on a day of work. And he’d already called to reschedule his physio appointment.

      “You’re not gonna tell me anything? Not you had a good time, the dinner was crap, nothing?”

      “The dinner was great, I had a terrific time and I’m not seeing her again, so what difference does it make?”

      “Oh. What happened? She say something?” He leaned forward, his eyes wide. “You say something?”

      “No. Neither of us said anything. It was the deal. That’s all. It was never going to be more than the one night.”

      “Oh. So you work these things out ahead of time, huh? Like something in your day planner or your BlackBerry appointment book.”

      “I don’t have a day planner or a BlackBerry. Pa, it’s no big deal. It was a setup, we had a nice night. She was … great. Really great. But no more than that.”

      “Huh.”

      Jake let out a hell of a sigh. “What?” He sat down at the nook, his thigh killing him. Worth it, though. Every ache and every pain. He’d do it again in a heartbeat. Which wasn’t an option.