Joe beamed at her, his dark eyes filled with pleasure at her knowledge. "Yes. You are a student of wine?"

Jilly laughed. "More like a new recruit. I recently did some research on the subject because a client I'm hoping to win over enjoys wine, and I must admit I find it fascinating." She felt the weight of Matt's gaze and purposely kept her attention focused on Joe. "You must be busy pruning the vines at this time of year."

Joe nodded. "Yes. It is a long, painstaking task. Each individual vine must be pruned manually, and unfortunately not everyone can do it."

"You need to have the feel for it," Jilly guessed.

"That is correct. A full day's work will prune less than half an acre."

"But the hard work is worth it," Matt said. "The wines are delicious, and this merlot…" he swirled the last swallow in his glass, "is exceptional. And the chardonnay we tasted has a very distinctive oaky flavor."

Joe practically preened from the praise. "Grazie."

"That's from aging in oak barrels," Jilly said. "I read all about it. The oak imparts flavor to the wine while it ferments and ages, and because oak is slightly porous, it lets water and alcohol out, and small amounts of oxygen in which helps the wine to 'integrate'…" Her voice trailed off and she laughed at herself. "Sorry. Sometimes I get carried away."

Joe waved his hand. "Nonsense. Your enthusiasm is enchanting."

The bells above the door tinkled as a trio of young men entered. Joe excused himself, and Jilly turned to Matt who regarded her with a look she couldn't decipher.

"You clearly did your homework to prep for this weekend with Jack," he said.

"I'm certain you did the same."

"True, but the Missionary Position Virus problem ate up a lot of my time."

A smile tugged her lips. "Hmmm. Yes, I imagine that the ol' missionary position problem could use up a lot of time. Especially if one were to apply themselves to solving that particular problem by coming up with alternate solutions."

"Absolutely," he murmured. He tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear, and her pulse jumped at the intimate gesture. "Have I mentioned that I am an extremely adept problem-solver?"

"No, but you didn't need to. Actions speak louder than words." Sliding her arms around his neck she stood on her toes, leaned into him and lightly bit his earlobe. Feminine satisfaction filled her at the low growl that rumbled in his throat. "So what does this action tell you, big guy?" She pressed herself more fully against him.

"That it's time to get out of here."

She leaned back in the circle of his arms and smiled at him. "See? That's one of the things I like about you, Davidson. You're smart."

An undecipherable look flashed in his eyes. "Smart. That's just one of the things I like about you, Jilly."

Jilly's heartbeat stuttered. Uh-oh. Once again their lighthearted conversation seemed to veer onto a serious side street. She didn't want him to like her. She didn't want to like him. She just wanted to use him for sex until tomorrow and then forget he existed. Yeah, that's what she wanted.

A frown tugged down her brow. But it was probably okay that he liked her and she liked him. People who engaged in sex should like each other-right? Of course! And like was a very noncommittal, lukewarm, unintimidating emotion. She liked corn on the cob. She liked daisies. She liked the color green. She liked Matt. No big deal. As long as she didn't do something really stupid and more than like him, everything would be great.

Stepping back from him, she slipped her hand into his and pulled him toward the table where the colorful handmade ceramic plates, bowls, and cups were displayed.

"What are we doing?" he asked.

"Shopping."

"I'd much rather drag you into that back room and have my wicked way with you behind an oak barrel."

She pushed aside that tempting image and shot him a mock frown. "I'm sure that would be very damaging to the wines. Probably disrupt their tannins."

"Whatever they are."

She adopted her most prim, schoolmarm voice. "Tannins are a class of chemicals found in the skins, seeds, and stems of grapes. They're important to wine because they react with oxygen and protect against premature oxidation which is one of the main sources of wine spoilage."

He nuzzled her neck with his warm lips. "Yeah. Premature oxidation. I hate it when that happens."

A giggle erupted from her. "You're distracting me from my shopping." Yet even as she said the words, she turned her head to give him easier access to her neck.

"I can solve this shopping problem in five seconds flat," he said, his breath whispering against her ear. "Let's just buy one of everything and get out of here."

She leaned back in the circle of his arms and shot him a mock frown. "Clearly you know nothing about living on a budget."

"You're right. Let's go get naked and you can tell me all about it."

"And I thought I was insatiable."

"Didn't I tell you? Insatiable is my middle name."

"Ha. Since when?"

The amusement drained from his gaze. "Do you really want to know?"

She stilled under the regard of his suddenly serious expression and husky tone. Even as her common sense yelled No!, her lips said, "Yes."

"Ever since I walked into room 312 on Friday night."

His answer stalled her breath, as did the intensity in his gaze. It was what she'd been terrified to hear-yet precisely what she'd wanted him to say. Because she felt exactly the same way.

"You feel it, too," he said softly, his gaze searching hers.

Panic fluttered through her, and her mind screamed at her to lie, to run, to plead the fifth. But what was the point? He'd know she was lying. Besides, she wasn't a liar.

Lifting her chin, she said, "Yes. I feel it, too."

Was that relief that flashed in his eyes? Before she could decide, he cupped her face in his palms and brushed his thumbs over her cheeks. "Question is, what are we going to do about that, Jilly?"

The instant he voiced the question, Matt wished he could snatch back the words. He shouldn't have asked, shouldn't have verbalized the nagging question that had plagued him all day-a certainty reinforced by the wary, guarded look that filled Jilly's eyes and the deafening silence. Man, it was a good thing he'd booked himself that massage because he really did need an hour away from this woman and the potent spell she cast on him.

"We're going to do exactly what we agreed," she finally said. "We're going to enjoy each other the rest of this weekend, then… not enjoy each other anymore. Business as usual."

"You're right, of course." Unfortunately his suspicion that it was going to be impossible for him to hold up his end of their bargain gained momentum with every minute he spent in her company. Especially since it was becoming increasingly obvious that he wouldn't be able to neatly file her away under "Ice Princess" and "enemy number one" any longer.

Forcing what he hoped passed for a carefree grin, he said, "And seeing as how our weekend will be over by this time tomorrow, I vote we head back to the resort and enjoy each other as much as we can for the time we have left." He waggled his brows. "Think we can make it through the entire box of condoms I bought?"

Her expression relaxed and she smiled. "There's only one way to find out. But thirty-six condoms in twenty-four hours?" She shook her head. "I think there'll be a few left over."

"I'm willing to go for the record if you are. Whaddaya say?"

"I say let's finish shopping and get out of here."

Matt selected two platters, both hand painted with grapes, as Christmas gifts for his mom and sister, while Jilly picked out several serving bowls for presents, and two oversize latte cups for herself.

"Latte goes very well with chocolate-covered marshmallows," she said with a teasing grin.

They each picked out several bottles of wine, then brought their purchases to the register where Joe wrapped them in colorful holiday paper while he amused them with stories of growing up in Italy.

While their receipts printed, Joe nodded toward a large glass bowl near the cash register, half-filled with business cards. "We pick a winner once a month for a free bottle of wine. If you'd like to enter, just put your business card in there."

Both Matt and Jilly dug out business cards and passed them to Joe who looked at them with interest. "Maxximum Advertising Agency," he read. "You work together?"

An uncomfortable flush crept up Matt's neck at the unwelcome reminder. "Yes."

Nodding solemnly, Joe dropped the cards into the bowl. "My wife, she works here at the winery. This can sometimes be difficult." He shot them a broad wink. "But sometimes also rewarding." He handed them their packages with a flourish. "Best of luck to you, Matthew and Jillian. I hope you will return to Galini Vineyards. Perhaps in the summer, when the vines are green and lush with ripening fruit. I will give you a personally guided tour."

"That sounds lovely, Joe," Jilly said with a smile. "Thank you."

Matt's stomach tightened. If Jilly meant to take Joe up on his offer, she'd obviously be doing so accompanied by someone who-

Isn't me.

Shoving that disturbing, irritating thought aside, Matt shook Joe's hand, then he and Jilly headed toward the exit. When Matt opened the door, the bells tingled, and they looked up. Once again they stood directly under the mistletoe. Jilly smiled and lifted her face, clearly expecting a quick peck. But need and desire slammed into Matt. Hauling her against him with his free arm, he angled his back to afford them a modicum of privacy, then slanted his mouth over hers in a hot, hard, demanding kiss. When he lifted his head, masculine satisfaction roared through him at Jilly's dazed expression.