Perfect Pear

An Ellora’s Cave Romantica Publication

www.ellorascave.com

Perfect Pear ISBN 9781419921971 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED Perfect Pear Copyright © 2009 Mardi Ballou Edited by Mary Moran Cover art by Syneca Electronic book Publication April 2009 The terms Romantica® and Quickies® are registered trademarks of Ellora’s Cave Publishing. With the exception of quotes used in reviews, this book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written permission from the publisher, Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Inc.® 1056 Home Avenue, Akron OH 44310-3502. Warning: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be scanned, uploaded or distributed via the Internet or any other means, electronic or print, without the publisher’s permission. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000. (http://www.fbi.gov/ipr/). Please purchase only authorized electronic or print editions and do not participate in or encourage the electronic piracy of copyrighted material. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated. This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously.

PERFECT PEAR

Mardi Ballou

Mardi Ballou

Chapter One When J. Wilson Louderbeck sampled the flaky pastry bursting with plump, juicy pear chunks, an orgasmic glow suffused his pinched face. Seated across from him, Penelope held her breath. She had to believe her tart would convince old Stuck-in-thePast to lease her space in the new gourmet center for Perfect Pear. He inhaled the proffered wedge, eyed the rest of the tart, and licked his thin lips. “Quite delicious, Ms.…uh…Perdrix. Impressive business plan, impressive product.” No way could he be leading up to a but. She’d done everything right and was ready to sign on the dotted line. “Thanks. Perfect Pear will be, well, perfect, in the new gourmet center. There’s been lots of buzz around town—” “Yes.” He put his hand up as if to twirl his mustache, though he didn’t have one. Fingers twitching, he returned his hand to his lap and cleared his throat. “No sense wasting your time or mine.” He eyed the tart with longing. “You probably didn’t get my last email. We’re leasing the space to Eden’s Apple Tree.” No, no, no. A geyser of red-hot disappointment rose from her belly. Eden’s Apple Tree again. Every time Penelope and her Pear Posse made progress, Eden snatched it away. This time Penelope had learned from past mistakes and fixed what was broken. This time the shiny new opportunity was in Princeton—her hometown, her turf. This time, Eden was not going to win. “A nationwide chain like Eden’s Apple Tree is exactly the opposite of what people want now. Perfect Pear is right on the money for today’s consumer.” Penelope managed to sound cool and professional, she hoped. “I see your point.” She doubted that. “But you see, ours will be unique—the first Eden’s Apple Tree eco-friendly gourmet site in the country. Of course there will be others, but we’ll have the flagship store. The publicity alone will be priceless.” 4

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“Though people say there’s no such thing as bad publicity, there will be a backlash if you choose Eden over us. A lot of people here in Princeton support the slow food, gastronomic approach. Eden’s Apple Tree, which is in strip malls and food courts across the U.S. and abroad, does not fit that profile. Perfect Pear does.” Penelope rose. He speared her with an “I know this stuff and you don’t” sneer then shrugged. “I have another appointment. Thank you for your interest. You can leave the rest of your tart here—” “Nice try. You’ll be hearing from me—and lots of frustrated Princetonians—soon.” Penelope managed to keep her posture straight and dignified until she’d gotten through the outer office. Despite a temptation to weep or hurl the tart at the building, she did neither. It was time to regroup and rededicate herself. Perfect Pear would prevail.

***** Two weeks later Adam MacKnight didn’t get back to Princeton, his hometown, often enough. Being based in New York, less than an hour away, he should have been able to squeeze in a fast trip at least once a month. As he drove down to handle a situation for a potential client he really wanted to land, he tried to remember the last time he’d come. His car phone rang. “MacKnight.” “How close are you to Princeton?” Eden Cronkette, his target client. For her to get on the phone herself, this had to be serious. He glanced out the window. “Just passed exit ten of the turnpike.” “What the hell does that mean?” “If traffic doesn’t get any worse, I’ll be in downtown Princeton in less than half an hour.” “Speed it up. The nutcase blocking progress is leading a demonstration.” “What? What kind of demonstration?” 5

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“Sixties stuff with chanting and picket signs,” Eden barked, an image out of sync with the goddess persona her PR people had generated for the media. “That kind of stuff happens all the time in Princeton, university town and all. No one pays attention. Relax, I’ll handle it.” He chuckled. “Don’t tell me to relax. Media’s on the way. Stop this before it gets any press.” The relaxed approach wouldn’t work for this client. “Have you identified who’s behind the opposition?” Eden snorted. “Some upstart nobody. Petunia or something like that.” “Petunia? I can’t say I’ve heard that name before, but it may be someone new—” “Let’s make sure no one hears it again. I don’t want some product poacher horning in on my fruit niche.” “Try not to worry. I’ve dealt with this sort of thing before. It never amounts to more than a fifteen-minute wonder, if that. Not when they come up against the real thing, and Eden’s Apple Tree is all that.” “Damn straight. Call me as soon as you take care of business. Once I see how you handle this, we can talk about a contract for services.” “Great. I want to get moving real soon—” “Speaking of which,” her voice went half an octave lower, “I have you penciled in for dinner tonight. Et cetera.” “I won’t forget. I’ll meet you at the restaurant at eight.” “You said you’d pick me up at my condo.” He had? No point getting into a discussion now. “Right. See you then.” Actually, they had set up to meet at the restaurant. Eden Cronkette had a less-thanadmirable tendency to revise previous understandings, which he had to keep in mind to work with her. The big bucks he made as an independent contractor required hyperflexibility and hyperawareness.

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On the other hand, Eden had a scary reputation when it came to et cetera. If the grapevine had it right, he knew he wasn’t about to be that flexible, ever. He was strictly a don’t-mix-pleasure-with-business guy—kept life simple. Of course the grapevine info might be wrong. He’d have to deal with all that later. Maybe he’d put in such a long day, he’d be too wiped to drive up to the city. Eden would have to understand if he needed to postpone their meeting. He could spend the night here with his family, who’d be thrilled. He had options. Right now, though, he had to focus on dealing with the newest snafu in what should have been a done deal. Petunia? He’d have remembered someone with such an unusual name. He had known a Penelope. He grinned at the recollection. Penelope—his good buddy Patrick Perdrix’s kid sister. In one short summer, right after she graduated from high school, Penelope had gone from being a cute pain in the neck to drop-dead hot and gorgeous. Adam’s dick arose to salute the vivid recollection. He could smile now, but he’d been mortified then. Of all the women in the world, he had to get an immediate hard-on anytime he got near Patrick’s kid sister. Talk about the sure end to a friendship if Adam had ever acted on that attraction. Patrick and the men of his clan had an old-fashioned protective dominant male attitude to their women. He’d been aware that Penelope had had a crush on him for all the years she’d been a pain in the butt, when he could laugh it off. Too bad she’d gotten over those feelings right before she’d emerged from her chrysalis as the loveliest of butterflies. Had it really been ten years? What had Patrick told him about her? Adam remembered Penelope going off to college in Europe somewhere, to study art or something equally frou-frou. She was probably living in a villa in Tuscany with a Marcello Mastroianni type, painting landscapes and still lifes.

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Maybe when he took his next holiday, he’d look her up. He made a mental note to check on her whereabouts when he emailed Patrick then wiped the silly grin off his face as he pulled off the turnpike at exit nine. Route Eighteen loomed. On full alert, he cut through a snarly traffic jam to get over to Route One South. Eventually he made it through all the shoppers jamming the road in Edison and turned off Route One at the main Princeton exit.

***** Penelope had just put down her own picket sign to take photos when the news van from WWCV arrived and two guys hopped off, one with a huge camera. “What’s going on here?” the guy without the camera asked. The picketers had perked up when the press arrived. She waved an allencompassing hand. “A protest demonstration by the Pear Posse.” She raised her voice so all the marchers could hear. “Do we want yet another Eden’s Apple Tree going into our new gourmet center?” “Hell no,” the marchers responded as one. “We want local. We want quality. We’re the Pear Posse and we want Perfect Pear.” “Pear Posse? Perfect Pear?” The reporter’s eyes roved to her chest with a big smirk. “P-E-A-R,” she informed him. She needed to hit the right balance between welcoming media attention and rejecting jackass attention. “Perfect Pear is a topquality, local business. We were all set to lease space for our shop in the new gourmet center. That space has now been usurped by a national chain about to go worldwide, Eden’s Apple Tree.” The news guy backed off a bit. “This protest is to favor one business over another at the new shopping center?” He looked on the verge of losing interest. She wasn’t about to let that happen. “The issue before us is much larger than that. What is your name?” “Dex Riordan, WWCV News. Who all is here?” 8

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“I’m Penelope Perdrix. And the group with the signs is the Perfect Pear Posse.” “Perfect Pear Posse?” “That’s right. Global Gourmet Management invited Perfect Pear to be part of their new upscale center right here in Princeton. Just before I could sign the lease, they withdrew the offer and announced that Eden’s Apple Tree is going in instead. I ask you. Do we need another Eden’s Apple Tree? Perfect Pear offers something unique and local. Can Eden’s Apple Tree match that claim? No.” Dex nodded sagely, as if he understood. “As I read the picketers’ signs and talk with you, I’m getting a strong impression that there’s more at stake than one business’s change of mind.” Penelope nodded vigorously as Dex read the picket signs for the camera: “‘An Apple A Day—Only If You Can’t Get a Pear. Apple is to Average what Pear is to Perfect. The Snake Gave Eve the Apple and Kept the Pear for Himself.’ Wow, this is a whole new perspective.” “We want to raise awareness. Throughout history, pears have played second fiddle to apples. Why? Certainly not for reasons of taste or health benefits. Did you know that the pear causes virtually no allergic reactions? The apple can’t say that.” “I didn’t know that,” Dex said, backing off a tad. “You know a lot about this. What is your interest?” “You know the legend of Johnny Appleseed? I’m going to do for pears what he did for apples. Starting with pears from my family’s and other local orchards, which we’ll feature in Perfect Pear. Unlike national chains that have no connection to local markets or conditions, Perfect Pear will be organized for the Princeton market and based around our seasons.” Another news van drove up and a second reporter arrived just in time to hear Penelope’s ringing conclusion. “We’re here to get the word out, starting with opening the business in the Princeton Gourmet Center. People, let’s let management know what we want now.” 9

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The Pear Posse picketers raised raucous cries as the film crews shot footage.

***** “I don’t think having the police disperse the picketers is a good idea,” Adam told J. Wilson Louderbeck, his Global Gourmet Management contact, as the two men drove the short distance from the corporate office suite to the center site. “They’re interfering with our business. The sub-contractors we hired to finish the interiors, working on overtime to get the job done quickly, won’t cross the picket lines. Those bitches are picketing illegally,” Louderbeck sputtered. “Technically true. But getting them the kind of sympathetic publicity a police dispersal would bring is probably not be in your company’s best interests. Why don’t we talk to them?” Louderbeck slammed his mid-life-crisis sports car into a parking space. Both men jumped out and headed to the demonstration site, only to be confronted by three TV news vans surrounding a small group of picketers. “Damn it all to hell. Now they’ve got the media out.” Louderbeck looked on the verge of a coronary. “We can handle this. The key is not to lose our own cool.” Adam tried to summon hypnotic suggestion techniques to talk his contact off the metaphorical ledge before he dealt with the picketers. The other man, face beef-tomato red, snorted. After a quick assessment, Adam had to admit the situation appeared more complex than he’d anticipated. He might have to struggle to hold on to his optimism and positive thinking, but he would come out on top. “Who did you say is the ringleader? Exact name?” Louderbeck consulted his PDA. “Some local dingbat who can make a good tart,” he spat out as if he’d been swigging vinegar. “Penelope Perdrix.” Dingbat? A good tart? Penelope? His potential business deal just hit fan. 10

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Not. He’d deal with this. Now he remembered how much she’d enjoyed sabotaging his and Patrick’s plans if they excluded her, which they always did. Mentally braced to be strong, he spotted her and feasted his eyes for a heartbeat before striding to her so they could get down to business. This was not his idea of how to do reunions. Penelope Perdrix, all grown up and ten times more enticing than a decade before. He inwardly groaned then willed his brain to stay operational and ignore the promptings of his dick. “Definitely don’t call the police. The Perdrix family is very well known and liked here in Princeton. If you’re perceived as attacking Penelope, the youngest member of that family, you’ll lose any glimmer of sympathy or support from the community.” Louderbeck’s color started to return to normal. “So you know this bitch?” He winced at the language. “I used to know the family. It’s been years since I’ve had any contact with her.” Adam reviewed and rejected several strategies as he approached the target. “Well, brush off whatever links you have and find a way to contain her. Make her disappear—not, tempting as the prospect is, the swimming with the fishes kind. Just get her to back off and peddle her pears elsewhere. If she stops harassing us right now, we won’t sue.” Louderbeck folded his arms over his chest. Louderbeck was growing more annoying by the minute. Adam had to clench his fists not to pop the executive one. Adam’s straightforward, defuse-the-situation assignment had just morphed into getting his best friend’s kid sister to back off some cherished project she clearly cared lots about. He owed Patrick and Penelope better. On the other hand, disappointing Eden Cronkette would kill the potential deal his business needed. He’d worked too hard for too long to get where he was to let it slip through his fingers. If only Penelope Perdrix were not the obstacle.

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Penelope was so busy supporting the Pear Posse picketers, talking to the reporters and distributing product samples that she didn’t see Adam MacKnight until he was practically on top of her. “Hey, Penelope, what’s going on here?” The guy who’d starred in all her dreams and fantasies from puberty until she left home for college just showed up out of nowhere. It had been years—and he looked hotter than ever. “Adam MacKnight? Is that really you?” She nearly dropped a plate of pear and cheese strudel. “In the flesh.” He grinned. Her eyelids fluttered at the mention of flesh. Though this was the worst possible time to be distracted, she had to ask, “What are you doing here?” “That’s my question for you.” Goddess, his voice was pitched just right to set off goose bumps. Nice to know she’d always had such good taste. Some people’s first crushes turned out to be horrors. But she had a protest to manage, which took precedence over connecting with dreamy Adam MacKnight. “Long story, and this is the wrong time to tell it. Can I meet you later, after the demonstration, so we can catch up?” She hoped her own voice didn’t sound too squeaky pleady. “In the meantime, have some pear and cheese strudel. For you and your friend.” Now that she glanced at Adam’s friend, Penelope recognized him. The scowling man stomping over to them was J. Wilson Louderbeck, the Gourmet Center’s nasty henchman. But why would— Adam laughed, a low rumbly sound she could feel all the way down to her clit. “I’d love to spend time with you later, but first, I have to be upfront with you. I’m here because of this demonstration.” She peered at him and sighed. “Why do I get the feeling you’re not about to pick up a sign and join the Pear Posse picketers?”

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This time his laugh had a patronizing tinge. Her hackles rose and she willed her clit to stop throbbing. “Uh, no. You see, the guy I came over with isn’t a friend. He wants to break up the demonstration and have you all arrested because you are breaking some laws and trespassing on private property, not to mention interfering with his business. But now that I see you’re involved, I told him I’m an old friend and could talk you into leaving without his having to resort to nastiness.” What? Could this really be Adam MacKnight, star of all her adolescent dreams, spouting such heresy? How could anyone with such gorgeous whiskey brown eyes and a body to die for turn out to be such a traitor? Wait ’til she yelled at her brother Patrick about the viper he’d brought into the family home. Her eyelids fluttered wildly again, only this time she was trying to really see him, to come to grips with who he’d become—the enemy. “I don’t believe what you’ve sunk to, Adam Francis MacKnight. Who do you work for?” “Cool it with the middle name.” His luscious lips maneuvered into a semi-smile but his eyes glowered. “I’m an independent contractor.” “That means you work for whoever’s footing the bill. Who is it? Who sent you here to try to disrupt an honest expression of protest?” He lifted his perfect square chin in a gesture she’d fantasized about so often, only in those dreams she was nestled against him, working her way up to his full, sensuous lips from the base of his neck, not glaring at him. “I represent the business you’re protesting against.” This time she did drop the china plate, which broke into a gazillion pieces as pear and cheese strudel bits scattered across the pavement. “Eden’s Apple Tree! You’ve sold out to Eden’s Apple Tree.” She ran a hand across her face as if to shield her eyes from the offending sight. “Say it isn’t so.” The reporters and photographers, evidently scenting hot material, started closing in on her and Adam. Good. Now she would reveal the underhanded tactics employed by 13

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her business rival—who’d subverted Adam, an old family friend. What could people expect from the strident apple monopoly next? He put a hand on her arm, and she was torn between savoring the contact and telling him to go to Hades. “For old times’ sake, let’s settle this between us, Penelope. We don’t need to air our disagreement to the press.” “For old times’ sake? Is that the latest refuge of dastardly scoundrels?” she hissed. Eeek. When she got rattled, she sounded like a refugee from a Victorian novel. His grin would probably have exuded confidence to anyone who didn’t know him as well as she did, but she spotted the slight downturn on one side of his mouth and knew he was far from cool. “Who’s this guy and what does he want?” Dex Riordan demanded, shoving a microphone in her face. “This is Adam MacKnight, an old family friend. He came all this way just to sample the newest Perfect Pear products. But look, I dropped the last plateful, and I understand everyone here has eaten all the other goodies.” Several people voiced their enjoyment of the different goodies. This protest had been a bigger success than Penelope imagined possible. She wanted to consolidate her victory and celebrate, which didn’t include throwing Adam to the wolves. Yet. She did owe him a chance to explain himself. She’d give him an opportunity to mend his ways and get with her program. Maybe, just maybe, this was the day when she’d really get lucky. “Mr. MacKnight is going to join me for a chance to get up close and personal with Perfect Pear. Who knows, maybe we’ll even convince him to join our team?”

There she was again, messing up his life. Under any other circumstances he’d be more than thrilled to have a chance to be alone with the luscious Penelope, but not with

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Eden Cronkette and Global Gourmet Management poised to pitch rotten apples at his head. Dex and his fellow reporters thrust microphones at him. “So, MacKnight, what’s it going to take for Penelope here to convince you to join her team?” Adam wished he could wipe the stupid grin off the reporter’s face. Fortunately, another breaking news event had all the media scrambling to a different site before they could press ahead and do more damage. Appearing satisfied that she’d accomplished her goals, Penelope thanked and hugged the Pear Posse picketers. At least Louderbeck seemed pleased. He clapped Adam on the back. “It looks like you’ve managed to break them up.” Right. Adam wouldn’t turn down the unearned credit. He figured Louderbeck could run interference with Eden Cronkette for the moment while he dealt with the much greater challenge. All he had to do was figure out how to satisfy both Penelope and Eden and walk away with his hide and business intact.

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Chapter Two Her scent would make him crazy. Adam wanted nothing more than to grab Penelope and sniff her everywhere, ’til he could get his fill. He wanted to stick his nose in the soft, warm spot under her chin where her pulse beat strongly and her scent would be especially concentrated. Then he’d want to stick another part of him into another part of her. His cock ached with pulsing need. As if he didn’t have enough trouble brewing. If his business wasn’t at risk, he’d be directing their interactions in a whole other direction. Right. And if beggars had horses— “Where are we going?” She licked her lips. His entire body groaned in silent mode. “I’m taking you to my office, Adam MacKnight, which is also my home. You have an open mind, right? I hope so because I’m about to convert you.” There were lots more things he’d have preferred her to be planning for him. Of course then she’d have to be the one with the open mind— “Do you mind walking? It’s not far, and physical exercise helps me work off stress.” He couldn’t go there, couldn’t allow himself to picture them both engaged in the best possible stress-reducing physical exercise. Walking didn’t even come close. Determined to remember he had a business that needed attention, he forced himself to open their conversation. “While we are walking, I want to hear your perspective on what’s going on. According to my sources, the Eden’s Apple Tree brass have acted in good faith. They were caught up short by your objections—” “How can you work for those people?” Penelope stopped abruptly and faced him full-on. Her cornflower blue eyes glittered with anger and surprise as a breeze riffled

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her long wheat blonde hair. He clenched his fists to keep from smoothing down the hair and then— He cleared his throat. “I’m an independent contractor, and Eden’s Apple Tree is a good fit for the kinds of services I provide.” She narrowed her eyes. “I thought I knew you, but I’d have expected you to insist on working only for people with principles, integrity. Eden’s Apple Tree is an example of one of the worst—” “Hold on. You’re hurling accusations at me, at them. On what basis? And do you know how gorgeous you are when you’re fuming?” Penelope’s face was so expressive. Her eyes widened with surprise at his misplaced remark. “Are you trying to distract me by taking advantage of the fact I’ve had a crush on you for years?” “No, oh no. Not. Sorry. Just wanted to lighten the atmosphere a bit. So, you had a crush on me? Tell me more.” She blushed, which did funny things to his equilibrium. “That wasn’t past tense until you threatened to disrupt the Perfect Pear Posse.” His heart made skittered. “You mean there’s a hope for you and me to be together for something other than a business dispute?” “Is that something you want?” Her voice turned sultry. He swallowed hard. Business before pleasure. He repeated the mantra on a continuous loop, but the words were less than effective. Actually, they quickly became meaningless. “Yes,” he rasped. “Business first.” He said the words with his last vestige of clarity. “You’re a hard man.” If only she knew.

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Though Penelope realized she shouldn’t give in to her fascination with Adam, this close she couldn’t resist the temptation. All her senses told her he had to be persuadable. A guy so hot and tempting couldn’t be a lost cause, plus they had a shared past. That had to count for something. She’d prove to him how right her cause was and get him to throw his support with her, after which she’d finally get him exactly where she wanted him. Talk about fairy tales coming true. The prince arrived in time to save the kingdom— They continued to walk, though she now sensed a heightened awareness uniting them both. She figured his erection made walking a challenge, especially when he was trying to act cool and professional. Walking in a way that didn’t look freaky wasn’t easy for her either. She was so hot for him, her panties were soaked and she physically ached. Rather than allowing her desire to distract her, she’d channel the energy of her passion into reasoning with him. Once she persuaded him to see things her way, she’d screw his brains out. “We’re here.” She indicated the Perdrix family pear orchard with a sweep of her hand and watched with pleasure as he took in the sight. “I didn’t know your family had an orchard here.” He seemed unable to tear his gaze from her. “Look at it, MacKnight.” She made a grand gesture with her hands to reveal the full range of the orchard, which also pushed her very erect nipples into prominent view. He stared at her even harder until she moved so he had to turn his head and take in the panorama. He whistled, low and long. “I can’t believe this was here all the time I used to come to the house with Patrick.” Good. She had his attention. “It makes me sad that we’d been kind of been ignoring the orchard’s potential for too many years. Once I realized what we had, I told the family my plans and got their approval. I took charge, revitalized the orchard and

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started Perfect Pear. Here’s where I hang out.” She nodded to a cottage with lots of large windows, looking out on the orchard. “This looks fantastic. You’ve been busy.” “You have no idea how much, but I want to show you. If I can convince you how special our product is, will you throw your support to Perfect Pear?” He raised an eyebrow. “I don’t want to mislead you. Your family is special to me, but I can’t afford to let sentiment influence my business decisions. Right now, Eden’s Apple Tree could become one of my most important clients. And I have to admit, I think their product is pretty good.” “Nothing like a challenge to get the juices flowing.” If hers flowed much more, she’d have to do the breaststroke. She’d prefer for him to do any stroking. Focus. “Let’s go to my office. Not only can I show you numbers and impress you with my business plan, I also have samples to tempt your palate.” “Come into my parlor said the spider to the fly,” he muttered. “Nervous?” Her voice quivered. Even though they were on her home turf, she was nervous enough for both of them, but, even stronger, taking him into her lair excited her. He raked her with his eyes. “Nervous, no. Juices flowing, oh yeah. Lead on, best friend’s kid sister.” Did he really have to call her that?

***** Who turned up the heat? Adam needed to remember who he was with and why he was here. Reminding both of them that she was Patrick’s kid sister might defuse the erotic charge between them. Right. That and a bucket of ice water should be effective for about a minute and a half. “We’re both professionals,” Penelope murmured as she led him through the open door into her sun-drenched office. 19

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Hyperaware of her by his side, Adam made a quick visual survey of the room. An antique rosewood lady’s desk, centered between two picture windows, bore a state-ofthe-art laptop. Two chaises upholstered in a pear-motif chintz graced one wall. A magnificent still life and two prints featured succulent pears. “This is quite a place.” “You ain’t seen or tasted nothing yet.” She licked her lips. “You gonna show me your figure?” Figures. He meant to say figures. “Perfect Pear is an open book.” Perfect? Open? He groaned. He had to touch her, right then or die. “Come here.” He pulled her into his arms and pressed her against him so her beautiful round breasts grazed his chest. “Why have you made me wait so long?” she whispered. Her nipples beaded against his pecs in exquisite invitation. She raised her face to him just in time for their lips to meet for one perfect kiss. She tasted warm and sweet, even her breath reminiscent of pears. If he didn’t watch his step, he could quickly become as besotted with the fruit as she seemed to be. Besotted. Seemed a lot more desirable condition than having to watch his step. He let himself melt into the kiss as their arms tangled and they drew ever closer. His erection grew to epic proportions as Penelope rubbed herself against him like the temptress she’d grown into. “No longer than you’ve made me wait,” he whispered back. She stroked the back of his neck with long, nimble fingers. Both of them in need of oxygen, they broke the kiss and devoured each other with their eyes. ”There’s no need to wait any longer,” she growled. Her eyes glowed with the fire of passion. Patrick’s kid sister. Patrick’s kid sister. Patrick’s kid sister. He had to struggle to repeat the mantra of responsibility, which nonetheless faded in intensity. “We’re supposed to be conducting business.” His voice sounded unconvincing even to him.

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“Pleasure before business,” she intoned. “First things first. That’s what I’m all about.” He was on the verge of protesting when she wrapped a leg around him and lightly rubbed her pussy over his aching dick. “You have me where you want me.” “Not yet.” She broke the sensual contact long enough to take his hand and lead him to a chaise. “When I designed these, I dreamed of having you on both of them.” “Dreams do come true,” he croaked. Talk about coming. If he didn’t watch his step, he’d be the one coming pronto, which he didn’t think would fit at all with the dreams either of them had. To find out that Patrick’s kid sister— Thoughts of Patrick pulled him back from the edge. What would his best friend do— “Show me.” She ran a hand over his erection, which quickly regained lost ground. He swallowed hard. “Uh, Penelope, maybe we’re moving a bit too fast here.” His voice squeaked on here when she squeezed the head of his cock. “Oh no you don’t. I’m going to sample your wares before you get to taste mine.” In the blink of an eye, she was down on her knees. The tempting vixen undid his fly and released his burgeoning dick, exposing it to the cool air of the cottage. Cool? Not for long once she took his hard length into her hot, sweet mouth and began to lick. “Penelope,” he groaned, lost in the wonder of the sensations assailing him. He sucked in a breath as she alternately tongued and nibbled the sensitive skin of his engorged organ. In response, she caressed the crack in his ass with one hand while she rubbed his balls with the other. Suddenly she stopped, and he felt as if he’d been evicted from paradise. Now she was having second thoughts? “What is it?” She looked up at him, her lips glistening from their recent excursion along his dick. “Skin,” she crooned. “I want to feel your skin. Undo your pants for me.”

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Fingers none too steady, he managed to comply. She tugged his slacks down over his hips. Then with a whoop of triumph, she put her mouth back where he most wanted it, caressed his balls with one hand and fingered his crack with the other. He’d died and gone to heaven.

What was it about Adam that brought out the slick seductress in her? With him, she turned into the snake in the Garden of Eden. Only instead of tempting Eve with a stupid old apple, she’d tempt Adam with one perfect pear. Goddess, he was one mouthwatering man. He tasted as great as he looked and smelled and sounded—the real deal. After she showed him the woman she’d become, he’d never again think of her as Patrick’s kid sister. The way Adam was moving and the sounds he was making, she knew he was very close to coming. She loved that she could have this power over him, to bring him to orgasm and share this intimacy after they hadn’t seen each other in so many years. She’d dreamt of being with him, but the reality made the shuddering reveries seem pallid in contrast. He had such an amazing body. Thick black hair and those whiskey brown eyes. Perfection. She could take pleasure in being with him this way while she advanced the cause of Perfect Pear. She stopped short, which caused him to shudder. He was so close to the edge, no way she could stop now. She squeezed and licked, bringing him back to his rhythm. She wasn’t with him like this only because of business. If it had been any man other than Adam, she wouldn’t have been doing this. But what if Adam thought she’d gone down on him only as a business tactic? Yuck. She’d have to make it very clear to him, pronto, that he meant much more to her than a business connection, important as that was to her. First, though, she’d savor the pleasure of his release. He was so excited, she couldn’t believe he’d held out as long as he had. Now, though, he was breathing hard, 22

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his fingers digging into her scalp as he muttered and whimpered sounds in a highly personal language. She stimulated him with her fingers, her lips, tongue and teeth. Though her words had to be incomprehensible, she whispered encouragement and communicated her feelings every way she could think. He seemed to be getting the message. His cock burgeoned and filled her mouth. He shuddered and stopped, moving his ass backward as if to withdraw. Determined to stay with him to the last moment, she held him captive where he was. Through the haze of physical pleasure and emotional bonds, Adam’s words rang out. “I’m coming, Penelope.” He stretched the end of her name over several syllables as he pumped the waves of his release into her mouth and she swallowed. Spent, he quivered and caressed her face. Then he took her hands and raised her so they were face-to-face. He looked shell-shocked. “Penelope, words fail me.” Fortunately, his lips didn’t fail him at all. He kissed her with a tenderness that nearly brought her to tears. When they broke apart, he stroked her cheek with his thumb. “In all my daydreams about being with you, I fantasized that I’d bring you to a screaming, shuddering orgasm—not the reverse the first time.” His words warmed her heart and reduced her to a puddle of quivering need. She couldn’t give in to her emotions, couldn’t let herself be so vulnerable to him. “I guess we need to compare dreams then and get both of ours in line. What happened with us just now was exactly what I’d imagined, only a hundred times better.” He watched her so carefully when she spoke, as if he were seizing each of her words and locking them in a treasure chest. “I can’t believe I’ve let so many years go by without seeing you. Now I can’t wait to make up for lost time. So, Penelope Perdrix, how about it? Will you let me make my dreams come true, right here, right now?” “You’re talking about bringing me to a screaming, shuddering orgasm?” She fluttered her eyelashes. 23

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He flashed his trademark Adam grin, which set off waves of pleasure deep within her. Oh yeah, this guy would really have a tough time getting her to come. Not. “That would be an affirmative.” He saluted. She pretended to contemplate her nails and, beginning to count to one hundred, resolved to make him wait for her response. She got to three. “Make that another affirmative.” He tilted her chin and lowered his mouth so their lips could lock. He was a fabulous kisser, starting slowly and bringing every part of his mouth into the action. Tongue, teeth, lips. Everything worked perfectly and in total harmony to turn the kiss into a complete intimate connection. They both were purring when they broke apart to breathe. “I’ve been undressing you with my eyes all day,” he whispered. “Now it’s time for the real thing. Let’s get naked.” They did. Before, she hadn’t really had the chance to appreciate his manly beauty. Penelope didn’t understand Adam’s job, but it must include a demanding physical component for him to be in such great shape. Tall, buff, muscled in all the right places with just the right amount of body hair, also in the right places, he could have posed for magazines or calendars, even been a live model. “You’re a gorgeous specimen,” she murmured. “Takes one to know one. Penelope, you’re a magnificent, a goddess.” She grinned. “That’s how I bill myself. The goddess of the pear orchard.” As soon as she said the words, she regretted them. Yes, they were here for business purposes, but why did she have to remind him the minute they were both naked and he was about to start delivering on his earlier promise? His eyes grew quite wide, only she knew it wasn’t from taking her in. He cleared his throat and looked away. “Ah yes, that’s right. The pear orchard. That’s why we’re here. The only reason?”

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How should she answer that? The next sound she heard was her promised orgasm sinking into a far-distant ocean.

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Chapter Three Adam hated that he’d come and she hadn’t, but providing one orgasm in exchange for another felt too much like a business exchange for his comfort. And yet, weren’t they here for business? Penelope seemed single-minded about convincing him to back her Perfect Pear instead of Eden’s Apple Tree. Surely she hadn’t gone down on him as a kind of bribe. She really seemed to do it because she cared. Or was he being an idiot? Was she merely exploiting the connection they’d shared years before and his overwhelming attraction to her? What about his obligation to Eden’s Apple Tree and Eden Cronkette? He needed to finish his business here and get out pronto. Maybe someday he’d be able to make things up to Penelope—and give her the orgasm she so deserved. Hell, more than one. Penelope. She was so beautiful, her body perfect. He hungered to touch her, to show her with his body how much she turned him on, and, most of all, to have complete intimacy with her. Even more than her physical beauty though, there was the special woman she’d become. With her passion, her strength and her uniqueness, Penelope more than fulfilled the promise she’d hinted at when she was younger. Though at first he’d expected her to put on clothes to cover her nakedness, she arose and walked proudly, her body completely exposed to his view. Her nudeness, like his, seemed absolutely right and appropriate here in this setting. “Give me a few minutes,” she murmured before disappearing into another downstairs room. The cottage seemed larger inside than it had from the outside. In moments an intense, delicious aroma filled the air—cinnamon, other spices he couldn’t identify as well and some sort of fruit. Of course, this being Penelope, it had to be pears. Tantalized, he inhaled deeply. “Where are you? Can I come to you?” “In the kitchen. Yeah, just follow your nose.” 26

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With her voice and the aroma to guide him, he went through the right-hand opening in the sitting room wall—and stopped dead in his tracks. Penelope was bent over the oven, her gorgeous bottom gleaming like the alabaster cheeks of a goddess, removing a pan of some heavenly concoction. His erection flew into high gear and he ached to sink his shaft between her— Judging by her smirk and the wicked gleam in her eyes, she must have read the tatters of his mind. She gave him a head-to-toe scan, pausing significantly at his erection. “May I serve you?” Her low-pitched offer set off tidal waves in his clamoring body. She held out the square glass pan filled with fragrant fruit and pastry, but she was offering much more. Unable to form a response, he swallowed hard before he managed to grit out, “What’s on the table?” She favored him with a wicked grin, her pert little tongue teasing in a slow circuit around her full lips. “A perfect pear tart.” He gazed at her gorgeous breasts, a perfect pair forming a canopy over the pastry. Her engorged nipples beckoned for him to taste them along with the dessert she held so proudly. “How can I possibly resist?” “I like that in a man.” With a waggle of her ass she set the pan down on the counter and reached in a ceramic holder to pull out a server. “Don’t bother with that,” he murmured. “Let’s eat this one with a spoon, right from the pan.” “The customer’s always right,” she drawled, reaching instead for spoons. “Great. Now all that’s missing is some rich vanilla bean ice cream. I prefer my tart à la mode.” He peered at her for a moment. “You look like a lady who’d have a supply of the perfect ice cream at hand.” “Right again.” She reached into the freezer and withdrew a carton of exactly the kind he meant.

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“Perfect, except for one more thing.” He bit his lip as if in deep thought. “Whipped cream and a cherry?” “I like the way your mind works, but let’s think outside the box.” She cocked a brow. “Okay.” He placed his hands on her hips and, before she knew what hit, he hoisted her onto the counter, between the tart and the ice cream. “Now that’s what I call the dessert of my dreams.” Legs crossed, she leaned her chin in her hand in the classic “thinker’s” position. “What do you mean?” “Instead of telling, I’m about to show you.” “Okay.” “But first, let’s uncross those luscious legs.” He caressed her thighs as he helped her assume a more amenable position. “You’ve got my curiosity up,” she purred. “You can see you’ve got lots more than my curiosity up.” He snorted. “Since you appear to be a woman with appetites, allow me to feed you. First, a taste of the tart.” He put a spoonful to her lips, and she did the same for him. Aroused as he was, he had to pause to savor the glorious taste filling his mouth. The flavor and texture of the baked fruit complemented by the flaky pastry put him in mind of the heavenly ambrosias reputed to be the reserve of the gods. If this was a representative sample of the goods she planned to sell, Penelope was on to something. First things first. Later, when he’d satisfied their hungers, he’d tell her how amazing her tart was, maybe look into how he could help her grow her business. Now, though, it was time to redirect his energy to the tantalizing woman watching him. “Luscious, as anticipated.” With his gaze locked on her, he knew she could have no doubt as to what he was referring.

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He took another bite of the tart, this time mingling ice cream with a slice of pear, and then he kissed her. They both tasted of spicy pear and icy vanilla sweetness. Though they started gently, in moments they melted deeper into the kiss and lost themselves in the thrill of sensuous discovery. “Your tart is the most delectable dish I’ve had the pleasure to taste,” Adam murmured. “Mmm, I love the spin you put on it.” “But I know how to make it even more delightful.” He waggled his brows. A hint of amused wariness showed in her expression. “What do you have in mind?” He fixed her with his gaze. Then he took a juicy slice of pear from the pan, licked it and traced a slithery path down between her breasts to her belly. He sank down to his knees and, holding the pear slice in place below her navel, with his tongue he traced another path from her clit down her plump pink folds. Luckily he was holding on to Penelope or she might have hit her head on the ceiling when she jumped. “Omigod,” she moaned. “You’re scrumptious, Miss Penelope, just as you are. Without any additions, I’d be content to feast on you all day and night.” To his immense gratification, she blushed a bright cherry red. He loved seeing that color dash to her cheeks and vowed to make her blush lots more. “Adam, I can’t believe what you’re doing to me.” “Baby, you ain’t seen nothin’ yet.” With great deliberation he maneuvered the pear slice down Penelope’s flat belly, over the cropped curls surrounding her vulva and right into the sexy folds. “Now there’s a dessert fit for a king. Or me.” To the accompaniment of her sighs and whimpers, he licked the pear and her until he had her squirming and holding on to his hair in both fists. Then with infinite

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slowness he nibbled the pear from her core, swiping his tongue tenderly over her clit to ensure her pleasure. “Omigod, Adam,” she repeated. The musky pear slid down his throat. “I’m getting even hungrier,” he announced. “This time, though, I want to have my pear à la mode.” She tried to move away from him, but there wasn’t a whole lot of wiggle room on the counter. “You’re not going to—” “I won’t hold you in suspense too much longer.” He helped himself to another chunk of pear and a spoonful of the melting ice cream. Burying his face in the sweet muskiness of Penelope’s sex, he pressed the ice creampear mixture onto her loveliness and immediately sucked and licked her everywhere.

Had she fallen into an enchanted slumber only to wake in some alternative universe? If Penelope’s hands hadn’t been completely occupied clutching Adam’s head to her, she’d be pinching herself to test the reality of her dreamy situation. When she’d gone down on Adam, she hadn’t imagined he’d reciprocate like this. Every lick, every nibble threatened to launch her into the stratosphere. This guy knew his way around a pussy. He knew exactly where to touch her and how to give her breathtaking, heart-stopping pleasure. But it wasn’t just any guy between her thighs, it was Adam MacKnight, star of her most intimate fantasies, the man she’d most wanted exactly there. The soft, slithery feel of her pears—her pears!—aroused her in a whole new way. Their aroma mixed with her scent and the scent of their sex to tantalize her nose. Then Adam added the cold slickness of the ice cream, which rapidly grew quite warm as he lapped his creation from her. The erotic sensation fanned out from her core, enveloping her in ecstasy. Even if she hadn’t been in a long, dry spell, Adam’s brand of attention would have had her galloping full speed toward an orgasm. Heck, though he didn’t know it, Adam could probably have brought her off by reading her the local want ads or phone book. 30

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Of course what he was doing left those other activities in the dust, but she didn’t feel any great compulsion to tell him how much power he had over her. Not when she was riding a wave that would soon crest. Very soon. She gasped in a breath and tried, in vain, to think of something rational to say instead of the nonsense noises emanating from her mouth. He masterfully tongued her clit before continuing his tender assault on her nether region, and she lost it. Much as she wanted to prolong his snacking session, she couldn’t suppress the shudders and growls that heralded her rapidly approaching release. From the way she was shaking, uncontrollably, this was going to be an earthmover of epic proportions. Usually, she didn’t get this close or intimate with any lover she hadn’t been with in ages. Granted she’d known Adam forever, but they’d never even been alone together. Now she was letting him see and touch her most secret, intimate self, but there was no way she could suppress the tremors to where his lovemaking was leading her. “Adam—” she crooned. At least she’d been able to make a sound that resembled his name. He kept going at her and going at her, and then she was there—shrieking, pounding her heels against the cabinets, rotating her hips in a world-shattering frenzy. He grabbed on and held on to her through the seismic effects of his mouth on her, providing an anchor to hold her fast against the hurricane of reaction her body thrummed out. “You’re beautiful and wonderful,” he whispered over and over in a mantra that warmed her. Finally, she returned to earth and took stock of where she was. The granite counter under her ass was one hard sucker. She had her legs in a vise around Adam’s head. The pear tart looked as if a monster had gotten loose in it and rivulets of ice cream leaked down the sides of the carton, threatening to turn the counter into a sticky mess. “Omigod,” she muttered once her breathing returned to normal. She scooted back, freeing Adam from the embrace of her thighs. A sniggle of embarrassment tried to insinuate itself into her head and heart. What had she just done—with, of all the men in 31

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the world, Adam MacKnight? Though she did blush, because that’s what Penelope Perdrix did, she beat back the whisper of shame. Even if Adam turned out to be a total bastard and walked out on her only to disappear forever, she’d cherish every moment of what they’d just done.

If Adam had ever been inclined to be the kind of guy who treated women like objects placed on earth for his pleasure, his three sisters had educated him otherwise— from the cradle. So he wanted to do right by any woman he spent time with, but this was Penelope Perdrix—not just any woman—and, for her, he wanted to do much better than right. Only, as he looked at her, pink, warm and disheveled from their sex play, he had no friggin’ idea what exactly “right” meant in this situation. “Penelope,” he murmured, trying to express his complex emotions with the way he caressed her name. “Adam. Don’t take this the wrong way, but I’d like to get down off the counter. The granite’s a bit hard—” “I bet it is.” Hands on her hips, he eased her down. She wiped the ice cream carton, put it back in the freezer and cleaned the countertop. Her nakedness imbued the domestic chores with unique charm—and, oh yeah, sexiness. He was surprised and gratified that she didn’t seem in any rush to dress than he was. Then she picked up the pan again and grinned ruefully at the remains. “So, how’d you like my tart?” “Best I’ve ever had.” “I suppose I walked right into that double entendre.” She rolled her eyes. Much as he got a kick out of teasing her, Adam knew there was too much at stake between them to continue playing the way they were. “And I suppose I meant the double entendre. Lady, you’re delicious—and so is your culinary creation. In my line of

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work, I hear lots of hype about products that range from great to mediocre or worse, so I’m a skeptic. Despite our past and my bias in your favor, I had my guard up. But your pear tart is out of this world—including the quality of the fruit. Important as that is, we have to talk about what’s happened—” “I know we came here for business reasons…” She was looking so hard at him, as if resolved to uncover the most hidden secrets of his soul. He growled and put a possessive hand on her waist. Usually he kept to his resolve for longer than half a minute. With Penelope, all his ideas about usually went out the window. “Don’t distract me.” He drew his hand away. “You know, we are both naked. You’re a very beautiful woman. That’s an ongoing distraction for me.” She turned away, as if flashing her back instead of her front would be less of a temptation. “I need to clean up before I get dressed since—” She blushed, no doubt remembering what they’d done to make her need to clean up. “Shower or bath?” “A bubble bath is definitely called for right about now.” A tinge of sadness crept into her eyes. His sisters always resorted to bubble baths when they felt blue or needed their self-esteem boosted. He sensed that Penelope found herself in a similar situation, and wondered why—especially after she’d come like that and his permanent erection had to be showing her how much she turned him on. What was going on with her? What role had he played in deflating her good mood? What could he do to fix things? “I’ll be happy to wash your back.” “Talk about an offer I can’t refuse.” She smiled, which seemed a great effort. “But do you really think we’ll be able to conduct business while you’re washing my back?”

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He opened his arms in an expansive gesture. “I like to meet challenges head-on. If you want to talk business while I’m providing you a sensuous, soapy backrub that’s exactly what we’ll do.” She shook her head and looked to the heavens for support. “You’re doing it again, MacKnight. But I also don’t cringe from a challenge. You can wash my back while we talk. I’ll go run my bath.” “Want me to do it?” She patted him on the shoulder. “Thanks for the offer. I know exactly how I want the bath, so it’ll just be easier if I do it.” “I can be a fast learner.” “That’s okay. Just go and relax while I get everything set. You can look at my brochures and stuff. There’s a bunch on my desk. I’ll call you when I’m ready.” Evidently, she was serious about him focusing on her business while she got the bath started. Despite his separation of pleasure and business principle, he was willing to follow Penelope’s lead for a bit. He figured it would be win-win. If they managed to get any business done, she’d view him positively. If they both got distracted, they could have lots of fun and do business later. That realization hit like a bolt of lightning. He wanted to spend more time with Penelope. She interested him as a person and a lover. Her business also interested him. How could he be with Penelope in either way when he was trying to win Eden Cronkette’s business? When his heart wasn’t involved, compartmentalizing business and pleasure was not a challenge. Emotional entanglement complicated everything. He should have that motto printed and framed for his tiny office. Though Eden’s Apple Tree was above average, their products didn’t compare in quality with his sample of Perfect Pear. Granted, okay, he’d had only a small, somewhat-biased sample. While Penelope ran her bath, he glanced through her material quickly, but with the eye of a seasoned professional. They looked damn good—and damn tempting. 34

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How could he fit all the pieces together? Did he and Penelope have any sort of future—professionally? Personally? His gut told him he’d pick the latter if he had to choose, but would she? She appeared pretty driven. Much as he hated to frame it in those terms, maybe that was why she’d been so open to him today. As his mind continued to spin, he heard her turn off the water in the small bathroom. “I’m ready for you, Adam.” Geez, he was more than ready for her too, but how in the world could they have a serious discussion while he washed her back and tried to ignore a raging erection?

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Chapter Four Had she imagined that dealing with Adam would be easy? Normally she’d never be such a fool. Maybe, based on her recent success, she’d fallen into hubris. Penelope lowered herself into the steamy, cinnamon-pear-scented bubbles and tried to relax. Though some people considered her obsessed when it came to pears because she surrounded herself with pear everything, she preferred to think of herself as singleminded and focused. She was determined to score big, to make tons of money, of course, but also more. Her real mission was to raise people’s awareness of pears—to grab a chunk of apples’ market share and elevate the pear to the exalted status of most popular fruit. Considering how many ways they were superior to apples, she couldn’t understand why, in every competition, pears always came in a distant second. “You even have a pear-scented bubble bath?” Adam asked. She was pleased to see he still hadn’t dressed. Made sense in case he got splashed, which just might happen. “Go ahead, MacKnight, make fun. I’ve heard it all. Pear bubble bath, pear soap. Pear everything I can buy or make. Hey, I’m not fickle.” He chuckled as he knelt next to the deep claw-footed tub. “You ready for me to wash your back?” She leaned back and stretched out. “Give me a few minutes to relax and enjoy the warmth.” “You sound stressed.” “You could say that. Even though I love all the free publicity we got, I was really tense about the demonstration. Omigod, that was just this morning. It feels like ages ago.”

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“We’ve been otherwise occupied.” He grinned. “Right. Adam, when I invited you here, I really had no idea—” “I suppose there’s a lot we never communicated to each other before. I mean, you were always Patrick’s kid sister.” “You’ve got to stop calling me that.” “Old habits— Sorry, I’ll try.” “Do that. You know, I never realized you noticed me.” “Oh, I noticed. But I knew how I felt about guys messing with my sisters, so I realized how protective Patrick was of you.” “Since Patrick was the one who always beat up on me, it’s hard to think of him as being protective.” “Brothers are one thing, other guys another. It’s part of the male code.” “I hear distant drums beating.” She chuckled. He began to massage her shoulders and the back of her neck, the spot she’d cleared when she pinned up her hair. “You have great hands,” she murmured. “The better to wash your back with.” “Eventually. What you’re doing now feels amazing, I don’t want you to stop.” “As you wish, lady. You’re sure tight back here.” “I won’t be after you get finished. So, what do you think of my brochures?” “Really, Penelope, try to relax while I do this. We can talk about the brochures afterward.” He must have thought they were utter crap. “How can I relax when it’s clear you’re trying to avoid hurting my feelings?” “Wow, where’d that come from? If it’ll help you relax, I’ll talk about the brochures. They’re good. Did you design them yourself?”

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“You’re not just saying that?” He shook his head. “Trust me. I don’t lie. You’re managing to communicate a lot of what you’ve been telling me in a clear, attractive way. That’s as good as it gets.” “So what is your background?” He laughed. “You shoot the messenger no matter what the message is.” “Tell me your background while you wash my back. The water’s starting to cool.” He took the washcloth she handed him and got it soapy. Then he began to stroke her back, turning the tiny chore into a sensuous interlude. She reminded herself to focus on what he had to say, especially after she’d insisted that he talk. “You want to hear my qualifications to conduct business or to wash your back.” She’d have splashed him if he hadn’t been behind her. “You know the answer to that, wise guy. I mean if you can’t multi-task now, what good are you?” “Oh, I’m very good.” He ran his fingertips over the back of her neck, raising goose bumps and her arousal. “Talk while you stroke.” She eased back against him. “You’ve grown up to be demanding as well as gorgeous. Luckily, my aim is to please. Okay. Let’s see, after I got my MBA, I’d planned to start my own business. I quickly discovered that I have a short attention span, and I prefer solving problems my friends run into in their businesses than doing everything involved in running my own.” She turned and looked at him. “So you’re what? A freelance problem solver?” “Something like that. I’ve heard myself described as a contract trouble shooter. I like the image. Sounds like I’m a knight charging in to save the day.” “With your last name, that’s a natural. So, you’re a knight for hire.” “In a sense. I work only for businesses I believe in, which you kind of guessed before. Right now, what I really believe is that your neck needs to be kissed.” Since she totally agreed, she practically purred when he set his lips in the exact right spot.

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He nuzzled the nape of her neck, which caused her nipples to pebble and demand equal time. “I think I’m ready to come out of the bath now.” Think didn’t describe the jumble of her thoughts at that moment. She’d meant to follow up on his oral résumé, but lost the thread when he raised the sensual stakes. “Allow me to assist.” He grabbed the oversized soft Egyptian cotton bath towel from the heating rack and held it up for her to step into. The luxury of the warmth surrounding her nearly sent her to la-la land. And then he began to massage her dry. Desire raced through her veins as he lavished total attention on each bit of her. “You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever touched. I can’t get enough of you.” His words caressed her in perfect harmony with the hypnotic movements of his hands. When he’d dried every bit of fragrant bath water from her, she shrugged off the towel and nestled in his accommodating arms. She felt more than gratified when his rock-hard erection nudged her creamy pussy. “What would you consider enough of me?” He laughed. “You fascinate me.” “And you me. But I think it’s past time for us to nudge our old acquaintance up to the next level.” “Which is?” In response, she tilted her hips so her nether lips nipped his cock, just the merest of touches to be sure she got his attention. He groaned right before he scooped her up and, with her guiding, raced up the stairs to her boudoir.

Adam had no problem forgetting his earlier misgivings about Penelope being Patrick’s kid sister—at least for now. Not when his cock had taken control of the mission and was issuing orders he couldn’t ignore.

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She felt so right in his arms, the piece missing from his life all these years. Today had been a time of miracles, when he could finally get to know this incredible woman in the deepest intimacy. Though his business obligations lurked in the back of his mind, he’d always been able to prioritize. She wanted him, and, with every fiber of his being, he wanted her. That was the only truth either of them needed to face at this precise moment. Her bed, heaped with pillows and a quilt that displayed the pear motif, appeared like an oasis in the midst of a long, hungry trek. He gently placed her on the bed then they both swept the pillows and quilt off. A gleam in her eye, she lay spread-eagle, her cunt open to him like a gift to the gods. His senses rioted. What to do first when such a luscious specimen offered herself? He wanted to look, taste, smell, hear and touch—all at one time. Touch won the race as he lay down next to her and turned her so they were front to front, skin to skin at a thousand contact points. “You feel amazing,” he murmured. “You’re an amazing feeler yourself.” She swung a leg over his and hooked him closer, ratcheting up his close-to-bursting erection. “Oh darlin’.” He needed to close any gap of space between them and meld himself into their intimate bond. He slid his hand up from the nape of her neck to draw her face nearer so he could explore her with a kiss. Eyes closed, she accepted the brush of his lips on hers, not hesitating to open her mouth to accept him fully. Despite the urgency of a hunger too long unappeased, he forced himself to linger over each moment, each sensation, each breath. After all, in the still functional fraction of his brain, he realized his time with Penelope could be unique. Though their attraction could not be denied, he’d already seen her commitment to her business. He’d meant what he’d said about not ever getting involved with a business he didn’t believe in. Good as the bit he’d seen of Perfect Pear looked, he hadn’t seen enough to join her 40

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team—especially in view of the repercussions such a move might have for his previous business plan. His concerns disappeared in a tidal wave of erotic emotion. His galloping synapses demanded that he grab hold of her right now and never let go, and he obeyed. He had no choice. His every breath fell in sync with hers and their hearts beat as one as they devoured each other with fevered mouths and frenzied fingers. “I need you,” she whimpered. “Don’t make me wait another moment before I feel you inside me.” In one fluid move, he rolled over onto his back and swept her along with him. His cock rose like a vertical beacon, a drop of pre-cum glistening at the tip. With a groan and a sigh, he pulled away and slipped a condom on. She muttered her thanks and ran her hot wetness over his tip before taking him into her, inch by precious inch. He clamped his hands on her gorgeous ass and let himself float in the ecstasy of their intimacy. She began to rotate her hips in a dance that would have brought the end far faster than either of them wanted. He clamped his hands to her sides. “Slow down, sugar. I want to make this last.” “Oh goddess,” she moaned, shuddering to a standstill with him buried deep inside. Even lying perfectly still with her had him at the edge of an explosive release. A light layer of sweat coated his skin as he forced himself to not come just yet. “You’re irresistible,” he whispered. “Hardly. You spent years resisting me. Practically ruined my teen years because I kept comparing other guys to you and then I’d lose interest.” He didn’t need to hear that detail, not when he was trying to push away the obstacles that had kept them apart in the past—especially her being his best friend’s kid sister. “I never knew. I bet you drove those guys crazy, just like you did me.” “If only I’d known. But now that I do, I can make up for lost time and opportunities.” With a manic gleam in her eyes, she began to finger his nipples. First 41

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she rubbed lightly then she increased the pressure. His nipples hardened into shards that could have cut glass. “Bit of a sadistic streak,” he gritted out. With his heightened sensitivity, her slightest touch was almost a deal breaker. He hadn’t had to hold back this hard since— ever. The vixen chortled. “You ain’t seen nothing yet.” She contracted her slick, hot feminine sheath around his grindingly rigid cock while she increased the pressure on his nipples. Too much. A tidal wave of emotion and sensation flooded up inside him. “Oh yeah. Neither have you. And, baby, it’s past time for you to see the light.” With that, he rolled them over in the bed so he pinned her down with the length of his hard, hard body. Her eyes opened wide with surprise at their sudden shift of position. “You and who else is going to show me that light?” “Me, only me. I’m going to show you the light.” He punctuated this promise with deep thrusts into her creamy cunt. Shuddering from his effort at restraint with each movement, he nonetheless clung to not coming. Yet. Not to come before she did. She licked her lips, her tongue tracing a sexy circuit around her sweet, juicy lips. With a mocking raise of a brow, she tightened the embrace of her legs around him, drawing him ever deeper into her most secret place. Talk about a taste of heaven. He wanted to linger hours, days. The reality was, minutes were beyond him. He was seconds away— She would come first. “All bets are off,” he ground out. With whatever restraint he could muster, he gritted his teeth and made even the tiniest moves and tremors count. Using control he had never before known he possessed, he slowly slid his engorged shaft to stimulate Penelope at her most vulnerable points. Heck, he wanted to make her crazy. When he heard her gasp and groan, he knew the effort was paying off. Her eyelids fluttered closed and she bit her lip, turned from him. He could sense her entire focus

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had switched from driving him insane to a full involvement with an orgasm he vowed would rock her universe. “You don’t play fair—” she started, her words ending up in a jumble of sighs and whimpers. “All’s fair in love and war,” he countered. His adrenaline was pumping full force as he sensed the insistent first stirrings of the release that was sweeping over her.

She was on alien turf, way out of her league, at fifty thousand feet without a damn parachute. Her most vivid dreams didn’t begin to approach the reality of being with Adam. Despite her boldness, she knew she was operating on sheer nerve—which she was doing a lot these days. For instance with her business. Anyone who saw her at the demonstration today or in her meetings with the suits would think she had cast-iron nerves and the female equivalent of gigantic cojones. But she knew better, and she suspected Adam was figuring out the truth, locked with her in this intimate cocoon. He’d used the word love. Of course this was sheer bravado on his part, falling back on the cliché when he was in the throes of fucking her. No, of making love to her. Ooh, the pleasures of their completely private dance. She sucked in a breath when he stroked a spot that had her a hair away from shrieking high enough to break all the glassware in a three-block radius. “Like that, do you?” She whimpered a response, the best she could muster with all her senses thus engaged. Sense. She had to hold on to the sense not to let herself get hung up on the “L” word. Love. So what if she’d loved him since she was in high school and would love him forever? He’d ridden out of the mists of the past today—for business, working for her rival. Chances were excellent he’d disappear as abruptly as he’d appeared, taking with him even more of her heart than she’d surrendered to him in those vivid dreams.

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Hold on, hold on, hold on. People had called her strong-willed all her life, and she liked having that quality describe her, even though she knew the truth. Her will had all the strength of a marshmallow. Especially when it came to Adam. But that was a side of herself she couldn’t afford to show to the world and, most of all, him. She needed to have something left of herself for when he left. He would leave. After all, he’d never made any effort to find her before today. Right. She’d figure it all out later, after she allowed herself this interval of total pleasure, when she could fill her cup of pleasure to its full capacity. Her entire body and all her senses were fully engaged, at maximum speed. Who knew it could be an erogenous zone? Now he was stroking the side of her face, pushing her hair away from the sensitive skin of her ear. His scent intrigued her, tantalizing her to take more in. He filled her completely and kept her clit in a constant state of arousal. Though she’d had lots of orgasms before, the one brewing now felt different, monumental—life changing. How could she ever be with another lover after experiencing what she did in Adam’s arms? Treacherous thought. She pushed it away, promising herself she’d deal with all her wayward mind musings later, much later. Now she had Adam’s penis deep in her, his arms around her, his breath fanning her desire and his vitality impelling her to follow where he led. He was leading directly to the release she’d needed all her life. In moments, she would surrender her marshmallow will—she wanted nothing more. The sensuous tightening began at the tip of her toes and the top of her head, speeding along all body bits to meet at the focal point, her feminine core. Shuddering and making little broken cries, Penelope gave herself up to the force of her orgasm— and to Adam. Her world shattered, and so did she.

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Chapter Five With a sense of awe and relief, Adam held on with all his might as Penelope gave him the most intimate gift—letting him be with her as she surrendered to a toe-rattling, cosmos-splitting release. “Adam,” she gasped when her breathing began to return to normal. Her face, especially her eyes, glowed with the power of her emotions. “You’re so precious,” he hissed, all too aware he was about to fall off the ledge he’d clung to longer than he’d believed possible. She drew his lips to hers for a heated kiss that stripped both their souls down to the basics of who they were. He realized she’d just shown him a glimpse of herself no one else would ever see. That flash of insight shoved him right off the edge. After all the effort he had to put into not coming, his orgasm shouldn’t have taken him by surprise, but it did. Especially the force with which it gripped him. “Penelope.” He yelled out her name, making the syllables a plea to the universe—for what? She held on with strength and tenderness as he rocked the bed, probably the entire cottage. He shuddered as each wave of his release swept through him. When he finally subsided, he figured he’d have to lie in bed a week or so to recover. But then, recovery was vastly overrated. An erotic mist enveloped them both in a mantle of intimacy. He savored this emotion of being alone with her in a little corner of the world that belonged only to them. Wanting to ease the burden of his weight on her, he turned them so they were face-to-face again. His fading erection remained firm enough to stay inside her, for now. He didn’t welcome the shock of cold that would slap him once they pulled apart, preferring the warmth of her being nestled in his arms, the warmth of their being skin to skin. 45

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“Wow.” She was the first to speak. Though not exactly articulate at this moment, she expressed what he felt. The tip of the iceberg of what he felt. Iceberg? Not. More like a geyser of boiling hot emotion, or a volcano. While his mind wrestled with vocabulary choices, she began to move. She couldn’t be thinking of ending this interlude in her bed, could she? “Penelope?” He tried to freight her name with all the questions roiling through him. “Mmmm.” She simply readjusted her body, probably to find a more comfortable position. Maybe he’d had her pinned in a way that deprived an arm or leg of circulation. “Are you okay?” He didn’t know exactly what he’d do if she wasn’t, but he’d scrape up some bits of adrenaline from somewhere. He felt a vague but definite obligation, at least to see to her basic comfort level. She licked the side of his face before drifting into a kiss of medium intensity. Huh, she definitely had more energy than he. “So you are okay?” Much as he appreciated the affectionate gesture, he wasn’t quite sure how to interpret it. “Calling how I feel right now okay is like comparing Niagara Falls to a stall shower in a fifth-rate motel.” His mind fumbled for a beat or two over her statement, and then he got it. Before he could formulate even a half-witted response, a grin stretched his mouth ear to ear. He offered himself a metaphorical pat on the back. He’d done right by this magnificent lady. He’d sensed her contentedness, but she’d just verified in words. “That good, eh?” He couldn’t keep the cocky tone from his voice. She rubbed a foot over the back of his leg. “Right. As if you don’t know exactly how good it was. Men.” “We do have our uses.” He thrust his hips forward.

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Alas, she shook him off. “Delightful as this interval has been, we’ve got things to do that can’t be accomplished while we’re both horizontal.” A thousand objections raced through his head, but he refrained from expressing any because, he realized reluctantly, she was right. He had to drive back to New York by evening and he needed to get a lot settled before then. Despite mind-blowing sex and an overwhelming desire for much more of the same, he had to talk business with Penelope before he headed off. Though the tart he’d sampled was amazing, one bite did not a business switch make. She padded around the room, gathering clothing and covering her gorgeous body. Even dressed, she took his breath away. Her actions prompted him to dress also. Time to level the playing field, except she couldn’t help but be a distraction for him. He slipped into his pants. “Maybe we’d be best conducting our business discussion in separate rooms.” He was only half kidding.

In none of Penelope’s past dreams did lovemaking with Adam become foreplay for talk about business. She’d dreamt about sex with him and she’d dreamt about having her own business, but previously those dreams had been separate. With Adam it all was coming together. Excited by the possibilities opening before her, she also came into full awareness of everything she had to lose. What if Adam deemed Perfect Pear less worthy than Eden’s Apple Tree? Doing so would indicate a lack of vision on his part, and she sensed Adam to be sharp and very together in his work-life as well as personally. So, of course he’d throw his support to her. But what if he had to deal with considerations she couldn’t even begin to imagine? What was the nature of his relationship with Eden Cronkette? Penelope had seen pictures of the stunning brunette. Eeew. She didn’t want to go there, imagining the guy she’d just been with to be capable of that kind of treachery.

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Her mind spinning in nasty circles, Penelope forced herself to turn from the personal to the professional. She had Adam’s attention now, and she had to believe he’d give her a fair, open-minded hearing. Or that he’d let her down sensitively if he was about to reject her. Dressed and ready to get to work, Adam dominated the kitchen with his masculine energy. She pointed to a chair at the small round table in the corner and nodded for him to sit. “Want some coffee or something else to drink?” “Just water. I want to keep my palate clear.” “Right.” Hands trembling only a bit, she poured him a glass and handed it to him. He drained it in two swallows and held the glass out for more. His thirst awakened her own. She poured them both glassfuls, handed his across the table and sat opposite him. They both drank in silence. “Can you tell me more about what you do for Eden’s Apple Tree?” He chuckled. “Did I say something funny?” He shrugged. “Not really. I suppose I’m in a goofy mood, totally inappropriate. To answer your question, I can’t give you much more information than I did before. Part of my value to my employers is loyalty and a great ability to keep my mouth shut. So I can’t even reveal the proposal I sent that organization, which is as far as we’ve gotten.” She held up a hand. “I didn’t mean to ask for any confidential information.” “Thanks.” He looked at his watch. “Why don’t we get started? I don’t have lots more time here today, but I can come back another time if need be.” If need be? Chills sped along her spine in response to his oh-so casual offer. It sounded as if he didn’t have any real plan—or desire—to come back but would if they couldn’t wrap things up today. Well, that said it all, didn’t it? Obviously, the intensity she perceived was one-sided.

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That was the risk she’d taken inviting him back and getting naked. Or maybe the risk was inherent to trying to mix business and pleasure with the man of her dreams. She took a deep breath and prepared to start getting mental armor into place along with her business hat. “Right. I certainly don’t want to inconvenience you, so let’s see what I can do to persuade you before you need to leave for your Saturday night appointment. If you’d like, I can set my stove timer to make sure we don’t run over time.” At least he had the grace to flinch, but she wouldn’t allow herself to read anything into that gesture. “I can’t give you the full demonstration that I provided the gourmet center’s management team because I don’t have samples of all the products on hand. You see, the Pear Posse and I try to keep everything fresh and not make up more than we’ll need at a given time.” His brow furrowed. “Sounds like a really small-scale operation. Have you thought about how you’re going to increase your supply of inventory to meet the ongoing needs of a successful business? I’m assuming you’re going to be open every day, or close to it, for at least two meals a day. And neither you nor any of your workers are going to be chained to the kitchen, right?” An erotic image of being chained in the kitchen flashed before her eyes. “We’re planning to start with a limited selection of prepared products. Since our mission is to educate consumers to the glories of pears, we’ll feature fresh pears eaten whole, alone or with cheese.” “Which works okay when your orchards are producing, like now, but given your insistence on fresh and local, what will you do the rest of the year?” He looked as skeptical and doubting as the worst of the suits. “We’re starting with the fresh local product to introduce ourselves. That’s one reason why I was counting on opening soon. We’re also dedicated to following the

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seasons, so when pears are out of season, we’ll put more emphasis on using the fruit we’ve prepared in some way.” He steepled his fingers before him. “Eden’s Apple Tree features light meals in addition to desserts and pastries to eat in-house. They also sell jarred applesauce, apple butter, pies, muffins, all that sort of thing plus cookbooks and a full range of chochkees.” She rolled her eyes at the mention of chochkees. “I don’t want customers to feel I’m pushing useless stuff.” “Those chochkees add a healthy sum to the bottom line and remind customers about Eden’s.” “I think they’re a distraction, something Eden’s is selling so people don’t pay all their attention to the food.” “Have you ever eaten at an Eden’s?” “Hasn’t everybody at one time or another?” Her voice dripped sarcasm. He nodded. “You’ve just made my point for me. Eden’s Apple Tree is a huge success. Instant name recognition. For most people, a positive reaction when they hear the name. You need to be after all that.” “But I don’t want to start a huge corporate franchise and turn pears into the fruity equivalent of widgets. All I want is to have my spot in the gourmet center here in my hometown. I’m thinking small scale but high quality. I mean, if I inspire someone else to open a bistro that features pears or kumquats or whatever, I’ll be thrilled.” “I think I’m finally getting it.” Was that good or bad?

It wasn’t just the amazing sex that had Adam wondering if he’d stepped into an alternate reality. What Penelope was saying sounded impossibly utopian—and totally counter to every business principle he’d learned. There was no way he could jettison his

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potential with Eden’s Apple Tree to throw his cap in with Perfect Pear and Penelope’s vision. Eden’s contract was worth too much. But how could he let Penelope down easily? He didn’t want to hurt her but, from his perspective, it seemed inevitable. “Hey, we’ve gotten all bogged down in talk and you haven’t had a chance to taste what I do have on hand. Another time you can sample the rest.” Adam made a noncommittal sound as his mind scrambled for how to deal with her. Maybe, once they got past the business stuff, they could see each other again. “So what do you have on hand for me to taste? Is everything else as fabulous as your tart?” She blushed, making her look impossibly young. “I’d like to think so. High standards is our real middle name.” She reached into a mesh basket brimming with gorgeous fruit, washed one, put it on a white ceramic plate with gold trim and placed it in front of Adam. “That is a beautiful pear. Definitely worthy of an artist.” “And a great chef. We’ve been working hard to upgrade our crop, all organic, by the way.” “I never doubted it.” He picked up the pear, noting the heft and firmness as he rotated it. He was about to take a bite when he saw her standing over him and staring. “Aren’t you going to join me?” “No. I want to see your reaction.” He put the pear down. “Uh, no. Pear eating is not a spectator sport. You eat one with me or I’ll just take it home.” “If you insist.” “Hey, I have to wonder why you’re so reluctant. These pears are okay to eat, right?” The determined chin shot up. “Much better than okay, MacKnight. But why take my word?” She got herself a pear, sat down and took a big healthy bite. As he watched her teeth sink into the pale flesh of the fruit, he remembered her mouth on him earlier and his cock stirred.

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Right. Past time to get his head out of his pants. Pear juices flowed down her chin. A man had to do what a man had to do. He lunged across the table and licked the sweet nectar off her. The taste stunned him, filling him with a sensation he could not name. Light? Love? Too scary. Was it the pear juice? No, it must have been pear juice licked from Penelope’s chin. “So what do you think?” “Delicious chin.” She rolled her eyes. “Take a bite of the pear, now, MacKnight.” He did as ordered, sank his teeth into the fruit and jolted back in his chair. The pear tasted like sunlight, like a fresh summer day with puffy white clouds high in a clear blue sky. Most of all, it tasted like optimism and hope for the future. Light and love— that sensation again. He’d never before eaten a piece of fruit that improved his mood and made him feel—happy. After he swallowed the first bite, he shook himself in an effort to be sensible. There was no way a pear, no matter how delicious, could have such an impact. Heck, it was more effective than any drug. This effect had to be due to the nearness of Penelope and the entire amazing day. The emotions rushing through him at the moment were a mere fraction of way she affected him. “Welcome to the world of Perfect Pear,” she said. He’d have sworn she read his mind. How could she have known? Did everyone react to the pears this way? “Did you put something in my pear?” The accusation was out before he’d given it proper thought. She blinked at him several times. “What do you mean? Didn’t you like it? Is the taste off? Here, taste mine—it’s perfectly fine. Let me taste yours.” Before he could respond, they switched pears and bit. The second one had the same effect as the first, albeit without the element of surprise. Her brow furrowed. “This pear tastes fine also. What did you find wrong with it?”

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He put the pear down on his plate and gathered his thoughts. “Not wrong. Definitely not wrong. Just different.” Understatement, but he couldn’t find a precise word. “I’ve never tasted anything like this. Forgive me for having a suspicious mind.” For a moment she looked sad. He wanted to tell her to forget business, take her in his arms and comfort her, but he knew he couldn’t go down that path or things between them would get even more complicated. “I want other people to experience what you just did, MacKnight. Is that unreasonable? All our pears taste this good, no matter how we prepare them. You’re not going to have that experience from the products of Eden’s Apple Tree. You can’t.” He couldn’t disagree. But how could he translate Penelope’s perfect pears into a sound business he could afford to get behind—especially if doing so would force him to abandon his shot at a sure cash cow like Eden’s Apple Tree? “Do you want to sample a wedge of cheese with the pear?” “Delicious as that sounds, I want to taste the primary products you have on hand now.” “Okay. There’s pear sauce, pear butter and a poached pear in wine sauce.” “Give me a small sample of each.” He hoped he could manage to taste those without going into sensory overload shock. At least he knew a bit of what to expect now. “What else are you projecting for other seasons?” “We’re developing a variety of recipes—a pear-squash soup, pear muffins, pear sorbet, pear stuffing. Lots more.” “I’m impressed. Where did you learn all this?” She smiled. “I’m constantly learning. But my inspiration was Tuscany. After high school I went to Italy to study painting.” “I thought I remembered something like that. So how did you get from painting to pears?”

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“I still paint too. But I hadn’t been in Tuscany long before I fell in love with the food and the entire Italian approach to the basics for la dolce vita. I added cooking to my curriculum.” “I can picture you over there. Why did you decide to come back?” “I was tempted to stay, and I go back to visit my friends often. But I wanted to bring some of that spirit and philosophy back home. That, plus I remembered about our pear orchards, which the family treated mostly with benign neglect—emphasis on neglect. So I returned to Princeton, determined to make a change and started with what’s at hand.” “You are unique.” “I never disputed that.” She dished out portions of her culinary creations with such enthusiasm and energy, he hated to discourage her. What she had seemed charming and appealing. Maybe her approach would work for a small-scale catering business where she could feature a quirky angle—assuming everything else was as good as what he’d tasted already. “Voilà!” She set the dishes before him with a flourish. “You’ve given me far too much. I can’t eat all this. I have to leave soon.” “Dinner date?” Both eyebrows shot up. Heat suffused his cheeks. There was no reason on earth why he should feel like a traitor for having a previous commitment. He didn’t think he should mention that it was more in the nature of a command performance than a real date—with Eden Cronkette. “Yeah. I made the reservations for this place more than a month ago. I really want to check it out. And I did make the commitment…” She shrugged—was it his imagination or did the gesture include a frisson of the forlorn? “You don’t owe me anything. I’m just looking for an honest taste-test reaction.” Yeah, he agreed. He didn’t owe her anything per se, but he wanted her to understand where he was coming from. Things on all fronts were moving too fast for

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him, and he wanted to slow them down and get his bearings. So why was he feeling more despicable with each passing moment? Each food he tasted deepened the sensation he’d first felt when he tasted the pear. “I think you’re on to something, Penelope, though I’m not sure if your current approach is the soundest way to go.” “Who’s talking? Adam MacKnight or a contract trouble shooter for Eden’s Apple Tree?” She gazed at him hard. “Trust me, Penelope. I’m a businessman, yes, but I’m also an old friend.” “And more,” she whispered. “And more.” He took her hands in his and squeezed. “An old friend with privileges?” He winced with distaste, as if she’d said something crude. Though he hated the expression, it was current and might be the most accurate label for this time in their relationship. “An old friend who can’t express his feelings right now. You’ve completely blindsided me today with—with everything. Give me a chance to catch my breath, maybe do some research, talk to people. I’ll get back to you ASAP.” “In the meantime—” “In the meantime, try not to burn any bridges or make any enemies. Like Eden Cronkette. She wields a lot of power in the food industry.” She actually stamped her foot. “I don’t consider myself part of any industry.” “And don’t get hung up in semantics.” He took her by the shoulders, wishing he didn’t have to leave, especially on such a sour note. “Thanks for—everything.” She swallowed hard. “Hey, I’ll tape the news tonight. Maybe they’ll have our demonstration on. And I’ll send you any newspaper articles that mention us.” Remembering the start of the day, he groaned. “For all our sakes, I hope it’s not that slow a news day.”

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“I hope it is.” “Whatever, yeah, keep me posted.” He’d have to figure out how to handle Eden if the media carried the story. She put her arms around his neck. “So when are you coming back?” “It can’t be soon enough for me.” To prove his words, he tilted her chin up and kissed her, soundly, deeply, a kiss that tasted of magical pears and sunshine. Knowing all too well how far such a kiss could lead, he pulled away. With a vague promise of other times together, he went back to his car and drove north.

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Chapter Six Penelope waited until Adam disappeared from sight before allowing herself to shed a few tears. When he’d arrived this morning, she’d been sure she was finally on the path to having all her dreams come true—professionally and personally. Adam MacKnight, in her cottage, in her arms, in her bed. As a bonus, he was a businessman in a unique position to help promote Perfect Pear. She couldn’t have come up with a better scenario herself. Except. Reality wasn’t conforming to her dreams. Much as he appreciated the pears and experienced from them the magic she’d hoped he would, she hadn’t been able to pry him away from Eden’s Apple Tree. Even worse, after everything they’d been to each other today, he’d walked away to keep a date with another woman. For all she knew, tonight he’d be in her arms, sharing with her the intimacy Penelope had tasted with him and wanted to be theirs alone. She shivered and her stomach threatened to heave. Despite her belief in innocent until proven guilty, right now her faith in Adam seemed hopelessly naïve. As despair and depression loomed, Penelope braced herself to be strong. For Pete’s sake, where in blazes was her spirit? She couldn’t let any perceived setbacks get her down, not after she’d come this far. For ages, she’d never allowed herself the luxury of fantasizing that she and Adam would ever even kiss, let alone be lovers—but today they’d flown across that border. Could one day with him be enough? Previously she’d have said yes, but now she wanted more. Her rational self chided her that she was letting her greedy gene run amok. Sometimes being rational was overrated. Just then the phone rang, bringing a welcome interruption of her miserable reverie. She rushed to pick up, grateful to the rescuer at the other end. Maybe it was Adam—a

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possibility that skewed her breathing rhythm. Maybe he’d managed to cancel his date, or maybe she’d been abducted by space aliens. Bowing to the force of kismet, Adam would urge Penelope to get up to the city pronto so she could replace the space-bound previous choice. “Do you have your TV on?” The voice definitely was not Adam’s. It belonged to Brenda Visconti, good friend, fellow chef and ardent member of the Pear Posse. Penelope forced herself to switch gears. “I will in a moment.” She fished around in a deep basket for the remote. “What should I be watching?” “Turn on the WWCV news. According to the summary at the beginning, they’re going to show footage of us picketing.” Okay, this was good, better than anticipated. Publicity, especially free publicity, was all good. Whatever disappointments had come her way, the universe was about to reward her with a free gift. “Wow, I never expected we’d make the news at all— especially not the early news.” “You’re the first person I called. Now I’m going to try to contact everyone else. Anybody special I should call?” The first name on her lips was Adam. But no, he’d probably be out at his fancyshmancy restaurant with his New York girlfriend. Probably a whippet thin, impossibly tall blonde with attitude, wearing a perfect little size zero black dress and five-inch stilettos. Yuck. Even the aliens from space would reject her. If that was Adam’s type, he could have her. “Just the usual suspects.” “Great. Be sure to make a copy of the broadcast. Everyone’s going to want one— and we might be able to use footage for future promo.” “I hope they show more than twenty seconds. At least enough so we can recognize faces.” “From the way the anchor was talking it up, I expect they will. Gotta go. I’ll get back to you later.”

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Wanting not to miss a moment, Penelope impatiently stared at the screen, watching the changing images and stories. Was it a cosmic rule that the most important, fascinating stories were always scheduled last? Never good at waiting patiently, she was ready to scream as each other story aired, punctuated by commercials for erectile dysfunction and toenail fungus. When she’d begun to suspect that Brenda just got it wrong, the female anchor read a lead-in that mentioned Perfect Pear twice versus zero times for Eden’s Apple Tree. Then came footage of the actual protest, showing the Pear Posse’s pickets and snippets of her interview. The demonstration looked much larger than it had really been— thanks to applaud-worthy photography. Their message came across loud and clear. Penelope’s heart soared with surprised pleasure. During her interview with Dex Riordan, she’d managed to get in some of the most important facts plus the local angle—and the station repeated the entire broadcast. Perfect Pear was on its way. She’d be far too busy reaping the benefits of the publicity to even think about Adam MacKnight. Just as she’d expected, her phone began to ring immediately after the broadcast and stayed busy. She talked to people involved with Perfect Pear, community people concerned about another non-local business coming in, even teachers who wanted her to come to their schools and teach their children the wonders of pears. Everyone called to congratulate her—except Adam.

***** What the hell was he doing, driving away from Penelope? The question pounded at Adam with every mile he added to the geographical gap. A little warning voice in some remote chamber of his brain kept repeating the message. This was Penelope Perdrix. They’d gotten in over their heads today. They needed time and space apart, along with the kind of reality check Patrick would

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provide with a fist aimed at Adam’s nose. He rubbed that part of his face as he tried to order his thoughts. Old friends with benefits. Not. He cursed out loud when another slice of reality smacked him in the face. Eden Cronkette would be waiting for an update on today’s business, plus some social interaction. Unless his car sprouted wings and flew, he’d be late picking her up. He despised tardiness. Their long-anticipated reservation would be buried beneath a red X, just like any potential business relationship. Trying to salvage what he could, he called the restaurant, explained the situation and asked if they could switch their reservation for a later time. The person at the other end responded with a rude laugh before cutting the connection. Humph. Scratch that restaurant off his list. So not only did he have only bad news to deliver on the business front, he wasn’t even going to feed Eden. Yeah, she’d hate him, not to mention tear up his proposal. And then there was that whole network of high-flying entrepreneurs she hung out with. Of course she’d badmouth him to them. He’d be lucky to pick up any new clients. Vital as his business was to him, any consequences paled in comparison to the possibility that he’d screwed things up permanently with Penelope. By the time he arrived at Eden Cronkette’s gazillion-dollar Fifth Avenue penthouse suite, he was a total wreck. He also had no idea what he’d say to her. “You’re late,” Eden responded huskily when Adam called on the lobby phone. She sounded as if she were in a good mood, which encouraged him. “You’ve obviously been a very bad boy,” Eden continued, drawling bad boy. Had she been drinking? “You know what that means.” “Not really.” She laughed, a sound reminiscent of breaking china. “You need to be punished. I know exactly what’s needed to teach you a lesson.”

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What the— Her words tripped his full internal warning system. What was going on? There’d been some sexual undercurrents and innuendoes in a previous conversation. He thought he’d managed to successfully bypass that minefield to keep their relationship on the platonic level. Unless he misheard, Eden had just signaled she wanted to take them to a whole new level where he did not want to be. Ignore her or try to make light of what she’d said? “I’ll be there in a moment.” As soon as he said the words, he realized how she might misinterpret them. Determined to set her straight before things got out of hand, he raced up and rang her doorbell. She immediately flung the door open. Stark naked with a martini in one hand and a flogger in the other—evidently, she’d been serious.

***** Riding on the crest of her media triumph, Penelope decided to throw a spontaneous Pear Posse party. Her friends deserved to be rewarded for all their hard work. Also, she really didn’t want to be alone tonight. As it turned out, Brenda was the only other person who could join her. Penelope knew she should be glad most of her friends, unlike her, had lives. Brenda arrived a short time later bearing two bottles of her family’s homemade pear wine. “I brought a sweet and a dry.” She held each up. “Bless you. I wish I could serve these at the café. That is if I ever get the chance to open.” “No discouraging words. You have a liquor license lurking somewhere?” “I wish. I suppose Eden’s Apple Tree does.” Brenda rolled her eyes. “Yeah, but who wants hard cider when they could be drinking the nectar of the gods?” “Your family wine is good, but I don’t know if I’d go that far—” “Shhh.” Her friend held up a finger to her lips. “Don’t go dissing the wine or they’ll take you off the short list of people they make sure get bottles.” 61

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“Sorry. It’s not their wine, it’s my crummy mood.” “What in the world do you have to be in a bad mood for?” Brenda indicated the TV with the picture still on but the sound turned low. “Looks like lots of good news.” “I know I should—” Suddenly the picture on the TV screen changed to show a panoramic view of the gourmet center. “I bet they’re talking about our protest.” Brenda turned up the volume. One of the reporters who’d been on-site was saying, “…demonstration earlier today. A spokesman for the gourmet center has agreed to update us. Here’s J. Wilson Louderbeck. Thanks for coming down here.” Penelope and Brenda looked at each other with surprise. The executive, now looking rumpled and as if he hadn’t smiled since the Reagan administration, glared at the reporter and the TV audience. “First of all, I want to ask the public to stop phoning our offices and sending emails about Perfect Pear and Eden’s Apple Tree.” “A lot of messages have come in today, a Saturday? And there are people in your office to log them in? I’m impressed.” J. Wilson Louderbeck shrugged. “We’re working twenty-four/seven because we’re serious about our mission to bring the best and the finest to the Princeton community. We also listen to your ideas and your concerns. Based on the response we’ve gotten today, we have decided that Eden’s Apple Tree does not, after all, fit the desired profile. We will consider a local business to fill that niche. The first candidate is Perfect Pear. Other businesses who want that location must contact us by close of business this coming Monday.” “That sounds like quite a triumph for Perfect Pear.” Penelope and Brenda jumped up and down and squealed, but they still managed to hear Grumpy Manager clear his throat and mutter, “They still have to make their case. If a stronger business applies for the spot, Perfect Pear may not get it.”

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“With Eden’s Apple Tree out of the way, we’re on a roll.” Brenda poured them each sweet wine and they toasted their progress. Penelope sipped the delicious wine and willed herself to savor the moment, but evidently she wasn’t fooling Brenda, who said, “You still seem blue. Tell me what’s going on.” She was so transparent. Always had been, always would be. There was no sense trying to hide her feelings from her friend. “It’s Adam MacKnight. After years of dreaming about him, I was with him today. And then he left. Don’t take this the wrong way, but I wish he were here.” Brenda snorted. “High school rules no longer apply. If there’s a guy you want to be with at this special time, I say, go for it. Hey, if my guy were here and not off doing his Navy Seal stuff, you’d better believe I wouldn’t be spending my Saturday night with you.” Penelope squeezed her friend’s hand. “He’ll be home safe soon, I know it.” “Your mouth to God’s ear. In the meantime, get your guy over here. You have important news to tell him.” She pointed to the phone with one hand and drained her wineglass with the other. Battling an unexpected bout of shyness, Penelope followed her heart and did exactly what Brenda suggested. Fingers trembling, she dialed Adam’s cell. What was the worst he could do? Tell her he wasn’t interested in her or her business and that she should forget his number. But, hey, she’d always been a risk taker. He answered on the third ring. His voice sounded very weird.

***** Of all the times for Penelope to phone. “I can’t really talk now,” he’d gritted out. “I’ve been waiting all night to get your pants off,” Eden boomed. Shit. Penelope must have heard that. Adam thought he heard her gasp before the line went dead. He’d have

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to do damage control as soon as he could, but first he had to deal with the menace at hand. He attempted to avert his eyes, not easy when the amazingly well-preserved Eden used one hand to drag him into her condo and the other to flick the flogger in his direction. “Um, we need to talk. Maybe it would be better if you put on some clothes first.” The flogger came perilously close to his face when she swung it through the air, which he took to be a negative response. She pulled him to a large wooden chair, which didn’t seem to match her other living room furniture, sat down and ordered him to lie, ass up, in her lap. “It’s time for your punishment,” she growled. He dug in his heels, halting their trajectory across the room. “This has gone as far as it’s going to. We are going to talk, very briefly, and then I’m leaving.” Her laugh could only be described as a manic cackle, which caused the hairs on his arms to rise. “Oh, we’re going to do more than talk. We’ll start with you telling me why the Gourmet Center in Princeton has booted out Eden’s Apple Tree—even though you went out to the job site in person to clean up any trouble. I have to tell you, MacKnight, as a business performance this was not impressive. Let’s hope you’re more impressive tonight.” Penelope had won? Adam couldn’t suppress a smile, which, he soon saw, was the worst possible response he could have had. “I see. You want to discuss a shift in management’s position—” She growled and began to froth at the corners of her mouth. He had to muster all his strength to hold her off. Apparently powered by a psychotic surge of adrenaline, she contorted her face and snarled. Just then, universe be thanked, his cell phone rang again. He held his hand up for a time out. “This might be the management company. I don’t know what you heard, but I’ll talk sense to them.” 64

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Eden froze in mid-howl. “Take it. But if you don’t have this snafu straightened out by the end of the call, your ass is mine.” He ignored the threat and also the predatory gleam in her bulging eyes. All the while he heard a recap of the news Eden had already hinted at, Adam’s mind skittered over plans to escape. After he made a few perfunctory noises to indicate he was listening, J. Wilson Louderbeck finished saying his piece and disconnected. Figuring it was his only way out, Adam pretended to continue the conversation. “Yes, I can understand why you’re considering the local business for the spot, but now’s the time to look at the big picture.” Nodding, he pretended to listen then added, “Look, there’s a lot to think about. Let’s meet at your office in say an hour and a half and really talk things through. Once you hear me out, I’m sure you’ll once again accept the benefits of going with Eden’s Apple Tree.” Only now did Adam hang up. Breathing heavily, his captor seemed to have taken in Adam’s side of the dialogue. He tried to summon up an expression of regret. “You heard that. It’s not a done deal yet. If I hustle and get down to Princeton to confer with this Louderbeck guy, we have a good shot of getting the spot.” Though she still looked somewhat feral, Eden’s inner businesswoman lurked around the rough edges. She flicked the flogger, a slight tinge of regret in her eyes. “Get down there and read the guy the riot act. Remind him that nobody reneges on Eden. You do that, I’ll sign with you.” “Of course. Probably just some misunderstanding we can clear up with a face-toface.” Eden was lightly grazing the palm of her hand with the flogger. Her mouth angled up at one side. “Call me as soon as you get the matter resolved.” Her poison green eyes sparked. “Doesn’t matter how late it gets, call. I won’t be sleeping, not tonight. I’ll wait up for you to return to hand me my next business site—and the corpse of Perfect Pear— on a platter.” Her teeth flashed sepulchral white as she shooed him off. 65

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Adam allowed himself one restorative breath and a small prayer of thanksgiving as he closed the door to Eden’s Chamber of Horrors. He had to get out of her building pronto before she changed her alleged mind. Wanting only to put distance between them, he waited until he was half a block away before he phoned Penelope. To his surprise, she picked up on the second ring. “Congratulations! I just heard Perfect Pear is in and Eden’s Apple Tree is out.” “Who’s this?” Her voice sounded subdued, not at all what he’d have expected on the night of her great triumph. He glared at the phone. Did the instrument really distort his voice that badly? “It’s Adam.” For a moment he feared she’d ask, “Adam Who?” She didn’t. Rather than the welcome and enthusiasm he’d primed himself to expect, all she said was, “Oh.” Must have been a full moon tonight or some important planet had gone retro. Maybe both. Or maybe she’d actually believed he was with Eden. “Hey, Penelope. This is what you’ve wanted, real victory for the underdog stuff. What do you say to my zipping right down there with champagne so we can toast your success and celebrate in style? Also, I can explain about your earlier phone call. I know it sounded bizarre, but there’s a completely plausible explanation.” The pause before her response grew so long, he thought maybe something had gone wrong with their connection. “Are you there, Penelope?” “Yeah.” When he repeated his offer, she answered without hesitation. “No, thanks.” “No, thanks?” What the hell— “Got it. It’s been a long day. You want to celebrate with me another time?” “Uh, no. Hope you had a good date. You should probably go back to her now.” “Huh? What are you talking about?”

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“Look, Adam, I like to celebrate the good times as much as anyone else. But only with my friends, and you’re not one of them.” “What? I had an appointment tonight, not a date.” The click at the other end told him she wasn’t going to hear what he’d been about to say. “The only one I’d want a date with is you.”

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Chapter Seven A person needed to be tough to be a successful businesswoman. If Penelope repeated that mantra to herself a few hundred million times, she might actually begin to believe it. As celebrations went, tonight’s was a bigger bust than a balloon impaled on a bed of nails. Both Brenda and Penelope, already melancholy, lost what remained of their good cheer after her phone call to Adam. “Let’s face it, the man’s into serial sex,” Penelope muttered. Brenda, her gaze brimming with sympathy, grasped her friend’s arm. “Better you should know now than before you got in over your head.” “Right. I’ve only adored him since I hit puberty. At least for most of that time, I worshipped him from a distance. Up close and personal, he doesn’t begin to live up to my image of him.” She shrugged. “Thanks for coming over tonight, Brenda. You’re a real friend, and that means a lot.” “I’m sorry we’re ending the night on a sad note, but it’s not a bad time to cut your losses. Perfect Pear is going to take all your energy until you’ve got it up and running. Then you can look around for your Mr. Right, someone worthy of you.” Penelope loaded Brenda down with goodies and saw her off. Though an inner voice said she should be driven enough to turn her attention to business details—there was always something to be done, Penelope couldn’t focus. She wasn’t at all tired, but she figured she might as well go to bed. Reading one of her horticulture texts could usually be counted on to induce sleep. She put on a white cotton shirt decorated with embroidered pears—a remnant from her sewing phase—and climbed into the bed where just a few short hours before—

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Tears welled in her eyes and she sniffled, inhaling the lingering musk of Adam and their lovemaking. Aargh! The smart thing to do would be to change the sheets, consign Adam’s scent and her memories to hot water and detergent, but she wasn’t feeling smart. Despite the painful aftermath of their interlude, she allowed herself to inhale deeply and savor the fleeting smells. Who knew she was such a masochist? Starting tomorrow, she could no longer afford to waste so much time in regrets or other negative thought patterns. She’d just gotten the break she’d been gearing up for, and she wasn’t about to mess up her chance. Too much was riding on Perfect Pear. Mouth clenched with concentration, she focused on the turgid text and soon felt her eyelids flutter. When she was seven-eighths asleep, a noise woke her. What— A series of dull thuds that sounded like some unidentified objects banging against the side of her cottage. Great. All tonight lacked was an invasion by projectile rodents. Or maybe a burglar was trying to hammer his way inside? Unsure which option would cause her more grief, she shivered. Unfortunately, it was up to her to rid her place of either pest. She eyed her landline phone. Maybe she should call the police? When she imagined their reaction to being called out for an encounter with a frisky squirrel, she decided not to. Besides, wouldn’t a burglar be quiet? Unless he was the world’s most inept— After she threw on a thin robe, she turned on the switch for all the lamps in the room, figuring any smart rodent or burglar would take this as a signal to vamoose. Another thud landed. Clearly she had something unanticipated on her hands. Then she heard a sound that raised her hackles and gave her goose bumps. “Pen-el-o-pe. Penel-o-pe.” Four familiar syllables, but never before had she heard them pronounced with such anguish. She remembered that movie boxer crying out for his “Adrienne”, only this wasn’t a movie.

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Fortunately, there weren’t any nearby neighbors, but still. This was Princeton. Men didn’t howl women’s names in the middle of the street in the middle of the night. She opened the door, recoiling a bit when the cool night air hit her. “Come in, Adam.” Looking as miserable as she felt, he scurried in. Seeing him like that, she could hardly resist hugging him. Looked as if he needed lots more than that. Time to harden her resolve and her heart. “Penelope.” Seemed as if he couldn’t stop repeating her name. “Come on in. I’ll give you a cup of coffee before I send you wherever you’re going.” He nodded mutely, followed her the short distance to the kitchen and sat and watched. Once the coffee was brewing, she turned to him. “Why are you here?” “I think I need to explain—” “What happened to your date? Sounded like it was going hot and heavy when I phoned.” She shook her head and laughed. “You’ve got a lot of energy there, don’t you, bucko? Or maybe you take those pills—” He jumped up from the table. “They say timing is everything, and I have to tell you, mine was way off tonight.” She shrugged and grimaced. “That’s okay. I don’t need to know the technical details. Keep your confessions to yourself. Have some coffee and go.” “No. You’ve got to listen.” He put his hands to the sides of her face and bent close so their eyes locked. “I don’t have to do anything.” She drew away from him and busied her trembling hands with the coffee it now appeared neither of them actually wanted. “Right, you don’t. But please, listen to me. I can understand why you got the wrong idea. Eden went crazy tonight—” She sucked in a breath. So it was as bad as she’d suspected. “You went from my bed to keep a date with…with that woman.”

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“It wasn’t a date. At least, it wasn’t supposed to be. I’ve been trying to set up a deal with Eden, strictly professional. I know she’s driven, which means she pays no attention to anyone else’s schedule or needs when it comes to business. She demands appointments Saturday nights, Thanksgiving, Christmas Eve, no matter—she figures if she doesn’t have a life, why should any poor sucker who works for her.” What he said gibed completely with things she’d heard. Even more convincing though, was the look on his face. If he could lie with such an honest, open expression, Adam MacKnight would have to be master con artist—and she couldn’t believe he was that. “I was going to tell Eden I wanted to withdraw my proposal, even before I heard that you’d won,” he said. “You were?” “Yes. Hell, yes. Of course you probably think it’s easy for me to make that claim now because we all know the outcome. But I made my decision earlier. Tasting the pear clinched the deal, only it took a while for my head to catch up to what my heart knew.” He trailed off for a moment then continued. “I’m trying to keep the personal and professional separate here, and that sure isn’t easy with you standing here, looking like a love goddess. Also, I realize I may have to rethink that particular principle, but that’s for later.” It was far too easy for him to sweet-talk her. Needing space, she handed him a mug. “Go. Sit down. Drink your coffee.” She wanted more than anything else to believe him, but something nagged at her. “Why didn’t you tell me what you were doing before you left?” “I should have. I shouldn’t have gone off the way I did,” he muttered. “You see, I’m really sold on your product and your business approach. If you’ll have me, I want to be part of your team. But before I told you, I wanted to make a clean break from Eden so I could come to you free of ties.” “You could have just phoned her or emailed her—” 71

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“Yeah, I could have, and I probably should have. But I thought that would be the chicken way out. I figured I owed it to Eden to have the courtesy to tell her in person.” Despite the evening’s misery, Penelope liked Adam’s take on courtesy. With a name like MacKnight… “So you told her all that? It sure didn’t sound like she was saying goodbye.” Adam shivered. “Not exactly.” “It’s either yes or no.” “I never got the chance. When I got to her condo— I barely escaped…” Seeing his reaction, Penelope sensed she might not want a detailed description. On the other hand, she didn’t want Adam to feel restrained about telling her, so she nodded in what she hoped was an encouraging manner. “She went ballistic when she heard about losing her spot in the gourmet center, but something more was going on with her. From now on, I’m going to keep any dealing with her long distance.” “Hmm. I can’t believe she’s that into having a shop here. I mean, she’s got so many cafés all over the country and abroad. This is the only site I’m planning.” “Eden’s very invested in each aspect of her business. A real micromanager. But Penelope, let’s not talk about her.” “Twist my arm.” “Don’t tempt me. That is, unless you like it rough.” He winced. “Forget I said that.” For the first time since he’d arrived, he was grinning at her with what looked suspiciously like incipient lust. Much as she wanted to jump his bones, Penelope figured they were both in need of time and space. First of all, she didn’t want him to think she was easy. On second thought, that door might have slammed shut already. Still… “Maybe we should just call it a night.”

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A flicker of disappointment flattened his smile. He backed away. “Whatever you want, Penelope. I’m thrilled that you’re willing to see me again and talk.” She relaxed a bit. “I’ve got lots of work to do, and if you’re serious about working for me, I’ll want us to get started ASAP. That said, I’m going to take tomorrow to celebrate. I’ll call you Monday to set up a time to meet.” “Got it. We’ll meet Monday.” He started to turn and stop. “Can’t leave without a last kiss for the road.” Knowing that he didn’t want to leave without that eased her residual pain from before. On the other hand, she needed to stay strong. “Good night, Adam.” Though she wanted nothing more than to hold him, she booted him out into the cold, dark night. The moment she closed the door, she regretted it. She wanted to fling it open. Even more, she wanted him to hammer on the door and ask her to reconsider. Order her to reconsider. Beg her to reconsider. It was a dark and quiet night.

***** Adam got as far as Route One before he turned around. It took no time to return to Penelope’s cottage. He was at her door in two strides, ringing the bell and knocking to get her attention. “It’s Adam.” She opened the door just enough to ask, “Forget something?” “Yeah, everything that’s important to me. Can I come in?” What would he do if she said no? “This can’t wait until tomorrow?” “No.” With a quick nod, she opened the door to him. Before either of them said another word, she was in his arms. He kissed her, hands fisted in her hair, lips melting together as tongues and teeth communicated for them.

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She broke from him. “I guess you were really determined to get that kiss for the road.” Her voice sounded soft and dreamy. He touched the side of her face. “You and I both know I’m looking for much more than that. There’s so much going on with your new business and your success. This is probably the worst time to get together—” She frowned. There he went, complicating things. “Forget I said that. Who knows why things happen when they do? The point is, fate or whatever threw us together now. There might be a thousand reasons we should go our separate ways and a thousand good reasons to stay together. All that really matters is what we both want. Penelope, I’m so glad you’re back in my life now. I want to get to know you, spend time with you, see what we can be to each other. How about you?” “Oh Adam.” She hugged him. “It’s what I’ve wanted forever.” “In that case, here I am. Let’s explore together.” They did just that, in the best possible way.

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About the Author Exploring the erotic side of romance keeps Mardi Ballou chained to her computer— and inspires some amazing research. Mardi’s a Jersey girl, now living in Northern California with her hero husband—the love of her life—who’s also her tech maven and first reader. Her days and nights are filled with books to read and write, chocolate and the pursuit of romantic dreams. A Scorpio by birth and temperament, Mardi believes in living life with Passion, Intensity and Lots of Laughs (this last from her moon in Sagittarius). Published in different genres under different names, Mardi is thrilled to be part of the Ellora’s Cave Team Romantica.

Mardi welcomes comments from readers. You can find her website and e-mail address on her author bio page at www.ellorascave.com.

Tell Us What You Think We appreciate hearing reader opinions about our books. You can e-mail us at [email protected].

Also by Mardi Ballou Down and Dirty anthology Long, Slow Ride Nibbles ‘n’ Bits anthology Pantasia 1:Hook, Wine and Tinker Pantasia 2: For Pete’s Sake Pantasia 3: Forever On the Isle of Never Reunions Dangereuses Tingle Bells Triple Booked Whatever Maura Wants Young Vampires in France Young Vampires In Love

Discover for yourself why readers can’t get enough of the multiple award-winning publisher Ellora’s Cave. Whether you prefer e-books or paperbacks, be sure to visit EC on the web at www.ellorascave.com for an erotic reading experience that will leave you breathless.

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