“Forget Roger, will you?” urged Hunter. “Here.”

She glanced back down.

With the roller hooked under one arm, he pulled out his wallet. Then he tossed a credit card onto her tarp-covered breakfast bar. “Consider this your expense account.”

She nearly fell off the ladder. “You can’t-”

“I just did.”

“But-”

“Shut up.” He went back to the paint tray. “I know the spa idea’s great. You know the spa idea’s great. Let’s streamline the research and make it happen.”

“You can’t pay for my spa treatments.”

“Osland International can pay for them. It’s my corporate card, and I consider it a perfectly legitimate R & D expense.”

Sinclair didn’t know what to say to that. Trying out the spa would be great research, but still…

He rolled the next section. “It’s not like I can go in there and check out the wax room myself.”

She cringed, involuntarily flinching. “Wax room?”

He chuckled at her expression. “Buck up, Sinclair. Take one for the team.”

“You take one for the team.”

“I’ve done my part. It’s my credit card.”

“They’re my legs.”

“Who said anything about legs?”

She stared at him. He didn’t. He wouldn’t.

“We were this close!” She made a tiny space with her thumb and index finger. “This close to having a totally professional conversation.”

“I’m weak,” he admitted.

“You’re hopeless.”

“Yeah. Well. Irrespective of what you get waxed, and whether or not you show me, it’s still a good idea.”

It was a good idea. And her gaze strayed to his platinum card sitting on the canvas tarp. Even if he couldn’t keep his mind on business, this was not an opportunity she was about to give up. “I’m thinking a facial.”

“Whatever you want. I need to know if they can deliver the kind of opportunity we’re looking for.”

“What if they’re locked into a supplier contract like the Millennium?”

Hunter shrugged. “Every business is different. We’ll deal with that when and if it happens. Tomorrow good for you?”

She nodded.

With only twelve days until Valentine’s Day. There was no time to lose.

Three

The next day, lying on her back in uptown Manhattan’s Crystal Spa, a loose silky robe covering her naked body, Sinclair was feeling very relaxed after her facial massage. A smooth, cool mask was drying on her face. Damp pads protected her eyes, and she found herself nearly falling asleep.

“Sinclair?”

She was dreaming of Hunter’s voice. That was fine.

Dreaming never hurt anybody.

“Sinclair?” the voice came again.

No.

No way.

Hunter was not in this room.

Warm hands closed up the wide V of her robe. “No sense playing with fire,” he said.

“What are you doing here?”

“I need permission to cancel your appointments for this afternoon.”

She tried to form words, but they jumbled in her brain and turned into incomprehensive sputters.

“We need to fly to L.A.,” Hunter told her matter-of-factly.

“This is a dream, right? You’re not really here.”

“Oh, I’m really here. But, hold on, are you saying you dream about me?”

“Nightmares. Trust me.”

He chuckled. “The only appointment I could get with the president of Crystal Spas was in their head office in L.A. at three today. We have to get going.”

She blinked. Why did they need to talk to the president?

“I want to pitch the idea of debuting the whole chain.”

Sinclair gave her head a little shake. “Seriously?”

“Yes, seriously.”

They were going to debut Luscious Lavender in the entire Crystal chain? That would be a phenomenal feat.

“I could kiss you,” she breathed.

“Bad idea. For the obvious reasons.” Then he looked her up and down. “Plus, you’re kind of…goopy.”

She just grinned.

“It’s not a done deal yet,” he warned.

“But we are going to try.”

“We are going to try. Can I cancel your appointments?”

“You got a cell phone?”

He pulled it out of his suit pocket.

She dialed Amber’s number.

The whole chain. She could barely believe it. The whole damn chain.

Hunter was sorry now that he’d even told Sinclair about Crystal Spas. The meeting hadn’t gone well, and she was clearly disappointed as she climbed into the jet for the return trip to New York.

“We knew it was a long shot,” she said bravely, buckling up across from him.

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault. Some people can’t make quick decisions.”

The whole thing had frustrated the hell out of Hunter.

“At his level, the man had better learn to make quick decisions. He had a chance to get in on the ground floor in this.”

“His loss,” said Sinclair with conviction.

“They’re superior products,” replied Hunter.

“Of course they’re superior products,” she agreed.

Hunter did up his own seat belt. “We say emphatically as two people who’ve never tried them.”

She smiled at his joke.

“We should try them,” he said.

“I’m not trying the wax.”

He chuckled. “I’ll try the wax.”

“Yeah, right.”

“Right here.” He pointed to his chest. “I’ll be a man about it. You can rip my hair out by the roots if I can massage your neck with the lavender oil.”

She stared into his eyes as the jet engines whined to life. “You don’t think we’d end up naked within five minutes?”

“I don’t think your ripping the hair from my chest would make me want to get naked.”

She obviously fought a grin. “Waxing your chest is probably the worst idea I’ve ever heard.”

“But it cheered you up.”

She sighed, and some of the humor went out of her eyes. “Crystal Spas would have been perfect.”

He reached for her hand. “I know.”

The jet jerked to rolling, and he experienced a strong sense of déjà vu. It took him a second to realize it was Kristy, Kristy and Jack on this same airplane. During their emergency landing in Vegas, Jack had held Kristy’s hand to comfort her.

Right now, Sinclair’s hand felt small in Hunter’s, soft and smooth. The kind of hand a man wanted all over his body.

“You want to go see your sister?” he asked.

Sinclair looked startled. “What?”

“She’s in Manchester. It’s on the way.”

“We’d be too late.”

She had a point.

“Maybe not,” he argued. A visit with Kristy might cheer Sinclair up.

“Thanks for the thought.”

Hunter wished he had more to offer than just a thought. But then she smiled her gratitude. Hunter realized that was what mattered.

Business deals would come and go. He’d simply find another way to make Sinclair happy. Even as the thought formed in his mind, he realized it was dangerous. But he ignored the warning flash.

“You don’t need to worry about me,” she told him. “I’m a big girl. And I still have the ball to plan.”

“The ball’s going to be fantastic,” he enthused. “It’ll be the best Valentine’s ball anybody ever put on anywhere.”

“I hate it when people humor me.”

“Then why are you still smiling?”

“Because sometimes you can be very sweet.”

“Hold that thought,” he teased, and he brought her hand to his lips.

“I’m not going to sleep with you.” She retrieved her hand, but the smile grew wider. “But, maybe, if you’re very, very good, I might dance with you at the Valentine’s ball.”

“And maybe if you’re very, very good, I might bring you flowers and candy.”

“Something to look forward to.”

“Isn’t it?”

They both stopped talking, and a soft silence settled around the hum of the engines as they taxied toward the runway.

“It’s just that we’ve worked day and night on this product launch,” she said, half to herself.

“I can imagine,” he responded with a nod.

“All of us,” she added. “The Luscious Lavender products are strong. The sales force is ready. And marketing showed me a fantastic television commercial last week. I really want to make sure I do my part.”

“You are doing your part.” He had no doubt of that. “There’s still the ball.”

She gave a shrug and tucked her hair behind her ears. “The ball’s pretty much ready to go. I know it’ll be fine. But I wanted that something extra, that something special from the PR department.” Then she sighed. “Maybe it’s just ego.”

“Contributing to the team is not ego. Taking all the glory is ego.”

“Wanting recognition is a form of ego,” she countered.

“Wanting recognition for a job well done is human.”

Her voice went soft. “Then I guess I don’t want to be human.”

He watched her for a silent minute, trying to gauge how deep that admission went. For all her bravado, he sensed an underlying insecurity. What Sinclair presented and who she really was were two different things. She was far more sensitive than she showed.

In the privacy and intimacy of the plane, he voiced a question that had been nagging at him for a while. “Why did you sleep with me?”

She startled and retrieved her hand. Then her shell went back into place. “Why did you sleep with me?”

“Because you were funny and smart and beautiful,” he said. Then he waited.

“And, because I said yes?” she asked.

He didn’t respond to her irreverence. “And because when I held you in my arms, it was where you belonged.”

She stayed silent, and he could almost see the war going on inside her head.

“You going to tell me?” he asked.

“It was Christmas,” she finally began. “And you were fun, and sexy. And Kristy had just married Jack. And life at your amazing mansion is really very surreal.”

She’d buried the truth. He was sure of it.

Kristy had married Jack, and for that brief moment in time, Sinclair had felt abandoned. And there had been Hunter. And she’d clung to him. And that’s what it was. He was glad he knew.