Fat white snowflakes drifted downward, beckoning Jilly to come out and play in the winter wonderland. Since she wasn't meeting Jack until three, and she had no desire to remain in this room where the tantalizing fragrance of Matt's musky cologne still lingered, she gave in to the beckoning. She crossed to the closet and pulled out her favorite pair of jeans and a thick, cable-knit sweater, ignoring how disturbingly intimate Matt's clothes looked hung next to hers.

She changed in quick order, slipped her suit onto a hanger, and was just preparing to lace up her sturdy snow boots when she heard the door lock click. She looked up just as Matt, laptop case in hand, strode into the room.

He halted at the sight of her, and for several seconds silence swelled as they stared at each other. Annoyance at his earlier assumption mingled with a tingling awareness of his dark good looks and masculinity. Whew. He might be a pain in the butt, but there was no getting away from the fact that he was a damn fine-looking pain in the butt.

Finally she glanced pointedly at her watch. "It's barely nine-fifteen. Your breakfast meeting didn't take very long."

"Jack sent a message that he was delayed and rescheduled our appointment for ten. Thought I'd come back up here where it's quiet and review my presentation."

She raised her brows. "Are you sure you didn't come back up here to check on my whereabouts? To see if maybe I was what had delayed Jack?"

He hesitated a moment, then said, "I have to admit, I'm relieved to discover you here."

A humorless laugh escaped her. "Don't you mean surprised?"

"No. I mean relieved." He shrugged. "With maybe a little surprise thrown in."

Humph. For an answer, she returned her attention to lacing up her boots. "I'll be out of here in just a minute."

"Fine." Without another word, he crossed to the desk, set his laptop on the polished oak surface, then flicked the On button. Peeking at him from under her lashes, she watched him settle himself in the chintz-covered wing chair, then pull a disk from his laptop case and insert it into the computer. Seconds later a frown pulled down his brows. His gaze scanned the screen, and his frown turned into a scowl.

She heard his fingers tapping away on the keyboard, then a muffled curse. She pressed her lips together and kept lacing. Clearly something was wrong. Well, too bad. It wasn't her problem. Whatever disaster had befallen Matt Davidson, he most likely deserved it.

Done with her lacing, she looked up, and her gaze involuntarily flicked over to him. His face was pale, his lips flattened into a thin line, and a muscle ticked in his jaw.

Before she could clamp a hand over her mouth, she found herself asking, "Problem?"

With his gaze still glued to the screen, he dragged his hands down his face. "Ever have the day from hell?"

"Frequently. Today, for instance, is a front-runner, thanks to you."

He shot her a glare. "Ha ha. You're a real laugh a minute."

"Thank ya, thank ya verra much," she said in her best Elvis impersonation. "I'll be here all weekend. So what's wrong?"

"Well, yesterday was my latest day from hell. Everything that could go wrong, did." His gaze returned to the screen, and his fingers resumed typing. "And I've just discovered that the day from hell simply keeps on giving and giving."

"Meaning what?"

"My laptop crashed yesterday. Got infected with the Missionary Position virus that's wreaking havoc everywhere."

Sympathy instantly overrode Jilly's annoyance and she winced. "Ouch. I've heard that virus is especially bad."

"You're not kidding. I turned on the computer and this little dancing naked guy appeared, then pffft," he snapped his fingers, "little dancing naked guy gave an evil chuckle, said, 'You're screwed,' then proceeded to hump his way across the screen and delete all my files."

Her eyes widened. "Yikes. That is bad-and undignified to boot."

He shot her a glare. "Don't you dare laugh."

"I wouldn't dream of it. My computer got fried by the Lollipop virus last year, so I know how awful it is. Did you bring the laptop to Maxximum's IT department? I took my machine to them when it was infected, and they were able to recover most of my files."

"I left it with them yesterday afternoon and filled out an emergency requisition for a new laptop." He nodded toward the machine in front of him. "This is it."

"And I gather that there's something wrong with it?"

"You could say that. It appears that whoever loaded the software onto this particular set neglected to load any of the standard word processing programs."

"You're kidding." She crossed to the desk, then looked at the screen over his shoulder.

"I wish I was. Look." He pointed to the icons. "Not there."

"Did you search through the program files?"

"Twice. Not there." He tunneled his fingers through his hair and groaned. "I should have suspected something would go wrong since the guy in IT yesterday was a temp. Obviously the temp from hell. A perfect match for the day from hell." A very unamused sounding laugh erupted from him. "Well, that's going to delay my presentation for Jack-at least until I can get to a computer store and buy the software I need and install it. God knows where the nearest computer store is. This area isn't exactly a booming metropolis." He glanced over his shoulder at the heavy snowfall visible through the window. "And with all this snow, the roads are most likely a mess."

"The last forecast I heard predicted from one to a hundred and twenty-five inches of snow," she said with a half smile.

"Well, at least the weatherman has a chance of being right by covering his bases that way."

"Can't you give Jack a hard copy of your presentation?"

"Except for a few sketches, I don't have one." He popped the disk from his useless laptop and held it up. "It's all on here. On a fabulous-if I may say so myself-PowerPoint slide show." He shifted in his chair and looked at her over his shoulder. "Seems I'm temporarily out of commission. Nice break for you."

She studied him for several seconds. She could almost feel the frustration emanating off him. She should be happy. Should be celebrating having this small advantage handed to her on a silver platter. But her conscience kicked her in the butt, forcing her feet to carry her across the room. She picked up her laptop and returned to him, setting her computer on the desk.

"You can use mine."

He stared at her, his expression a combination of suspicion, amazement, and confusion as his gaze alternated between her and her laptop. Finally he asked, "What's the catch?"

"No catch."

His eyes narrowed. "There's always a catch."

Annoyance prickled her. "Sheesh. You sure are suspicious. Look, if you don't want to use it, fine. You can sit here until the spring thaw, or hitch your car up to a team of mush dogs and try to get to a computer store. Makes no difference to me."

"Why would you let me use it?"

She planted her palms on the desk and leaned forward until less than a foot separated their faces. His gaze dropped briefly to her lips, and she noted the unmistakable desire darkening his eyes. She ignored the quickening of her pulse in response.

"Why? You know what, Matt? I'm not sure, especially since I don't particularly like you. Maybe it's because if the situation were reversed, I'm not certain you'd show me the same courtesy and I want you to feel guilty about that. Maybe it's because I've been in a similar situation and someone was kind enough to help me out and I just want to pay it forward. Maybe it's because I want to prove to you that I mean it when I say I play fair. Or maybe it's because when I win the ARC account, I don't want to hear any whining from you that I only got it because you couldn't play your 'A' game due to technical difficulties."

She remained leaning on the desk, heart beating hard against her ribs as they studied each other, tension and awareness bouncing between them. He clearly felt that tension and awareness, too. She could see it in his eyes.

Finally he said, "Aren't you afraid I'll look through your files?"

"They're password protected."

"Now who's being suspicious?"

"I prefer to call it cautious. Besides, you have the corner marketed on suspicion. Are you suspicious of everyone, or am I the only proud recipient of your doubtfulness?"

"Don't take it personally. It's not just you. And I have my reasons."

Something flickered in his eyes, the shadows of past hurts, piquing her curiosity, but she didn't ask. "Well, that's good to know. I think." Straightening, she headed toward the closet where she pulled out her black goose-down winter coat. When she turned around, she found him standing directly in front of her. Clutching her coat to her chest as if to ward off the sensual vibes he threw off, she backed up a step. Her shoulders hit the wall.

"Where are you going?" he asked in a husky voice that brought to mind candlelight and satin sheets.

"Outside."

"It's cold and snowing."

"I like the cold and snow." Yup, something icy would be really welcome right about now.

He reached out and plucked her coat from her fingers, then held it out by the shoulders for her, a gentlemanly gesture she'd thought died with the dinosaur. Turning her back toward him, she slowly slipped her arms into the sleeves, trying without success to ignore his disturbing nearness. After he settled the coat on her shoulders, she turned to face him once again. She was about to thank him, but the intense look in his eyes obliterated every thought from her head. She remained silent, stuck in place like an insect trapped in a web.

A good ten seconds of silence passed. Then he reached out and trailed a single fingertip down her cheek. Her breath caught at the feathery touch, and a trail of heat ignited on her skin where he'd touched her.