Something flashed in her eyes, sending up a warning flag. Narrowing his eyes, he asked, "What time are you meeting with him today?"

She hesitated, then said, "I'm having breakfast with him as well. At seven-thirty."

Matt's fingers tightened around his sweatshirt. The fact that she was meeting with Jack first didn't bode well. Damn it, she'd have her foot in the door first, a definite advantage. But the real question was, how far would Jilly go to win ARC'S account? She was ambitious-was she unethical as well? On a clean playing field, he could compete with anyone. But would she play fair? Or would she turn out to be another Tricia and use her feminine wiles to win Jack's favor? After their breakup, he'd learned Tricia had slept with a potential client to get his business. Would Jilly do the same? If so, that was definitely something he couldn't compete with, and gave her an advantage that set his teeth on edge.

"Look, Matt, I've been thinking a lot about this," she said, regaining his attention. "I'm not any happier about our situation than you are. I think Adam placed us both in a very awkward situation, made even worse by the fact that we're going to end up sharing this room. I called the front desk when I woke up, and there's nothing they can do. And I don't see either one of us checking out and finding a room elsewhere… right?"

"I'm not moving out."

"Right. And neither am I." She pushed her damp hair back, tucking the dark strands behind her ear, and he absolutely did not notice how smooth and silky and touchable her damp flesh appeared. "That being the case, I think we should lay some ground rules-just a few guidelines to keep the level of awkwardness down to a minimum."

"What did you have in mind?"

"Well, first, I think we should agree to remain, um, clothed at all times."

Her gaze skimmed over his bare chest, and he wasn't sure if he was more relieved or alarmed by the quick flash of unmistakable desire he saw flicker in her eyes. Relieved, because, thank God he wasn't the only one feeling this unwanted attraction. By damn, misery loved company. But alarmed, because, holy hell, if she was feeling the same powerful desire he was, how could they possibly hope to fight it?

He nodded slowly, forcing his gaze to remain on hers and not wander over her luscious form. "Fine. Clothes on at all times. Although, I have to warn you, that's going to make showering a challenge."

Her lips twitched, drawing his attention to their ripe fullness. How was it possible that he'd worked with her all these months yet neglected to notice how beautiful her mouth was? He made a mental note to schedule an appointment to have his eyes checked. Or maybe he had noticed, but since he hadn't been thinking about Jilly in terms of kissing her, the lusciousness of her mouth just hadn't registered.

Well, it was registering now. Big time. Those full, pouty, unpainted lips silently beckoned him to step forward and taste them. It was all he could do to keep his bare feet planted in place and not give in to the temptation.

"Clothes on at all times-except to shower," she amended.

He nodded his agreement. "What else?"

"Well, in the interest of fair play, I think we should agree to stay out of each other's way as far as Jack Witherspoon is concerned." Her golden-brown gaze was direct and steady. "I want this account. I intend to play hard, and I always play to win. I fully expect the same from you. But it's not my style to play dirty. I'd like the same consideration from you."

He studied her for several seconds, trying to figure out what her angle was. Sure, she seemed honest, sounded trustworthy, looked sexy-er, sincere, but he wasn't about to be taken in again by an ambitious competitor. "You mean don't encroach on each other's time with Jack?" he asked.

"Exactly. Or try to sabotage each other's work."

He raised a brow, irked and insulted by the suggestion. "You don't have a very high opinion of me, do you?"

"I'm suspicious by nature."

"As am I."

"Which is why I think it's important that we lay these ground rules. I have every intention of fighting, but you have my word that I'll fight fair-provided you promise you'll do the same."

"Contrary to what you obviously believe, I don't cheat," he said, unable to keep the edge from his voice. "I don't need to."

"Good. Neither do I." She held out her hand. "Deal?"

Although he remained suspicious of her motives, he nodded. He'd play as fair as she did. So long as she kept up her end of the bargain, so would he. But if she played the seduction card with Jack, all-out war would rage, and then she'd be sorry. All's fair in love and war, Jilly. Not that love had anything to do with this. No. Just war. And he hoped it wouldn't come to that.

He clasped her hand. Her handshake was firm and professional, and the brief contact certainly shouldn't have whooshed heat up his arm. He had to fight back the urge to yank her into his embrace and start off the morning by breaking the rule of keeping clothes on at all times. Her skin felt so warm and soft against his fingers, and she was only wearing that skimpy towel…

He gave himself a firm mental shake. He needed to remember who and what she was-an ambitious coworker. A rival who wanted nothing more than to pull the ARC account out from underneath him. Of course, that would be much easier to recall once she put on some damn clothes. As soon as she was once again dressed in one of her conservative, don't-mess-with-me suits, and had her hair all pulled back in that severe bun, all would realign in his universe. Then he'd be able to shake her hand and not feel a thing.

His gaze slid over her, and he stifled a groan. Man, even when she was again fully clothed, it was going to be really, really difficult to erase from his mind the sensual image of Jilly Taylor fresh from the shower. But he could do it. He'd accomplished tougher quests, completed more difficult missions. He was up to the task.

She stepped back and gave him a slightly shaky smile. "I'll just get my makeup bag, then the bathroom's all yours."

"Uh, thanks."

She emerged from the bathroom seconds later, a tan leather pouch clutched to her midsection. He watched her walk past him, his gaze attached to her backside as if velcroed there, his imagination conjuring up the very fine sight he knew lurked beneath that towel. His erection stirred against his sweats and, with a frown, he stomped into the bathroom and closed the door with a decisive click.

He tossed his sweatshirt onto the white marble counter and looked down at his tented sweatpants and grimaced. Damn. Had he just thought he was up to the task?

Well, it certainly appeared that he was. Damn, damn, double damn.


* * *

Jilly listened to the bathroom door close behind Matt, then squeezed her eyes shut and blew out a long, fervent sigh of relief.

When she opened her eyes, her gaze fell on the rumpled bed where they'd slept. Together. A humorless sound escaped her. Slept? Ha! Good thing she'd caught some z's before he'd arrived because she hadn't slept a wink the rest of the night. All she could think about was the warm, sexy, almost-naked male body less than three feet away. She'd recalled what that body felt like pressed against her. Wondered what it would look like completely naked… and feel like wrapped around her. Her very unruly hormones were letting her know in no uncertain terms that nine months, three weeks and now nineteen days were their absolute limit.

When the digital clock had finally glowed 6:00 a.m., she'd risen and indulged in a long, steamy shower in an effort to wash the image of Matt Davidson from her mind. Instead, all she'd accomplished was stirring up a maelstrom of fantasies in which she, Matt, the pulsating shower, and a bar of soap figured prominently. Disgusted with herself and this uncharacteristic, unwanted and unacceptable lust, she'd finally managed to set her sensual thoughts on the back burner long enough to formulate a set of ground rules to present to Matt-rules she'd arrived at purely for the purpose of self-preservation. While she had no intention of roaming around undressed in front of him, she wasn't certain how uninhibited he might be regarding nudity, and she absolutely, positively, did not want to see him naked.

Yeah, right, her detestably honest inner voice chimed in. You want to see him naked more than you want to be able to eat unlimited Rocky Road ice cream and not have it permanently adhere to your ass.

Yikes. Since that Rocky Road fantasy was one of her fondest dreams, this was not good. Okay, so she wanted to see him naked. Big deal. Who wouldn't? She was female and possessed a healthy, if somewhat recently starved, libido. But damn, why did it have to be him who had her insides melting to goo? This was like sleeping with the enemy. She glanced again at the rumpled bed, eyeing his still scrunched-up pillow that rested perilously close to hers. This was sleeping with the enemy.

Well, she just needed to remember that that's what he was. The enemy. The only thing standing between her and bringing home the ARC account. She could well imagine that he intended to try to turn this weekend into a "boys' club" scotch-swilling, cigar-smoking bonding session with Jack Witherspoon. Probably planned to hang out in the men's locker room, and take a steam-or whatever the hell men did in locker rooms. She couldn't compete with that. And she wouldn't let him get away with it, either.

Drawing a resolute breath, she marched over to the closet and mulled over her wardrobe possibilities, finally deciding on her red suit. The color was bright and empowering, and its slim skirt that hit just above her knees provided the perfect combination of professionalism and femininity. As soon as she was dressed, she'd feel more in control. All this bare skin was too distracting. What she needed was a robe-a heavy-duty one-and she made a mental note to visit the gift shop to see if they sold any. In the meanwhile, it was time to forget about Matt and focus her attention on Jack Witherspoon and the ARC account. Fortunately, with her strong work ethic, she knew she'd be able to focus on winning the account. Unfortunately, with everything female in her raising a ruckus, she wasn't so sure she'd be able to forget about Matt Davidson.