“That’s not the answer, Dimi. How about Mitch? He could be your Mr. Right, and he’s right under your nose.”

Dimi, who’d just taken a sip of soda, nearly spewed it across the room. “No. No way is Mitch my Mr. Right.”

“Why not?”

“Why not? Because he…because…” Well, heck if she could put her finger on it.

“Dimi, he can tie a cherry stem with his tongue.” Cami shivered in imagined thrill. “Hello. What more do you need from a man?”

Dimi wasn’t quite sure.

“Just kiss him.”

“What?”

“Just once.”

“I am not going to kiss him.”

Cami looked majorly disappointed.

“Besides, I don’t think I can handle him,” she admitted. “He’s-”

“Sexy.”

“Too sexy.”

“Are you kidding? There’s no such thing as too sexy!”

“No, I mean it,” Dimi said firmly. “If I’m ever insane enough to revoke my no-men rule, which I’m not, then I’m going to do it for a nice, comfortable, easy man who doesn’t curl my toes, thank you very much.”

Cami grinned. “He curls your toes?”

“Stop it.”

“You’ve got to go for it.”

“And you’ve got to get back to Tanner. Go.”

Cami rose, but at the door, she hesitated. “Just one little kiss. No more, no less. Just try not being so serious for a change. How hard could that be?”

Pretty damn hard, actually.

“Think about it, okay?” Cami waited. “Dimi? Okay?”

As if she could do anything but. “Yeah.”


MITCH DREAMED about cherry pie. Dreamed about scooping it across a woman’s bare torso, over her softly rounded belly, her ribs, her breasts, then bending his head to nibble it off. Dreamed about moving down that warm body, slowly exploring every inch of it, then shifting up to look into her face before giving her a kiss she’d never forget.

Only it was him who would never forget. The chocolate-brown eyes gazing up at him, dazed and opaque with desire, were Dimi’s.

That woke him right up.

He had no idea why he was dreaming about her, but apparently she wasn’t the only one he’d rendered full of lust with the whipped cream yesterday. And now he was awake and it was only five in the morning. Awake and fully aroused and all alone.

His own doing, he reminded himself, and got up to take a cold shower.

As the icy water pummeled him, Daniel’s voice came into his head. Don’t forget to live, man. Enjoy life. Seek it out and do it right.

Yeah, well, he’d like to do it right. Do Dimi right. But that was out of the question.

He’d have to settle for finding his pleasure in work. As he dressed, he wondered if Dimi would be nearly as much fun to goad today as she’d been yesterday.

His anticipatory grin slowly faded as he remembered how ticked off she’d been. He’d expected her to skin him alive, but instead she’d simply vanished.

What if she didn’t show today?

Damn, the more he thought about it, the more likely it seemed. He went for the phone, intending to call the studio and have them send a car for her.

Then he remembered. He wasn’t in Hollywood anymore. The people of Truckee didn’t send cars.

Sighing, he checked his computer personnel files and pulled up Dimi’s address. Whether Dimi Anderson liked it or not, she was about to be escorted to work.

By him.

He had to admit to some surprise when he drove out to her place some time later. It was sitting right on Donner Lake, surrounded by glassy water and high Sierra peaks, and he thought he’d never seen a more idyllic, peaceful, beautiful setting. Given that, Dimi should have been the most relaxed person he knew.

Not the most uptight.

No one answered his knock, but he could hear music blaring from within, so he walked around to the unfenced back, counting to make sure he got the right town house. Her back door was ajar, so he pushed it open and peered into her kitchen. “Dimi?”

No answer, but he could hear her singing, loudly and off-key, which made him grin.

His serious chef wailing at the top of her lungs?

Interestingly enough, her kitchen had all the appliances and no furniture, only a cage on the floor opposite the refrigerator. “Dimi?” he called again, going down to his knees to tap lightly on the cage.

A hamster poked its head out. Solemn black eyes studied him. He whistled softly, and the animal toddled out of its small house and stared at him. He kept whistling as he reached into the cage and stroked a finger down its back. The little thing closed its eyes in ecstasy.

From behind him, the singing got louder as Dimi moved closer, and suddenly she was in the doorway, eyes wide and on him.

“Oh!”

Mitch rose to his feet. “I’m sorry. I knocked and called out. You didn’t answer.”

She had a hand to her chest, but she no longer looked frightened. More like intrigued, which amused him.

“You could have knocked again,” she said.

“Could have, but you were singing pretty loud.”

She shrugged. “Secret rock-star fantasy.”

Yesterday she’d done everything in her power to stay away from him. Now, surprisingly, she stepped closer, smiling easily. Easily. Not Dimi’s usual tactic. “Aren’t you going to ask me why I’m here?” he asked.

“Okay. I’ll play.” She looked him over with sleepy, inviting eyes. “Why are you here?”

It wasn’t until she had him in the corner, her hands on either side of him against the counter, that he realized the truth, that there was a very good reason that she’d been singing so loudly without a care, that she was smiling so unlike Dimi, but he decided to play, too. “I’m here to make sure my chef gets to the studio.”

Cami narrowed her eyes and studied him for a long moment, during which it took all his control not to laugh and blow her cover.

Then, after that long stare, she leaned in close, lips slightly parted.

She obviously wanted him to kiss her.

“How far are you going to take this?” he wondered, his mouth a breath from hers.

Those expressive eyes blinked, but before she could do anything else, another voice came from the doorway.

“Cami!”

The woman in front of Mitch jerked back, turned red as a beet and whirled to face…a horrified Dimi.

“What are you doing?” Dimi demanded.

Cami wrung her hands, then must have decided to tough it out, because she shot Mitch an embarrassed glance and shrugged. “I figured if he thought you wanted to kiss him, he might make the first move so you wouldn’t have to.”

“Oh, my God.” Dimi covered her eyes. “This isn’t happening. You aren’t making a move on my producer.”

“Hey, I didn’t actually kiss him!” Cami complained. “You don’t have anything to be mad at.”

Dimi dropped her hand. “I’m telling Mom on you. And then Tanner! My God, what would Tanner think?”

“Fine. Go right ahead and tattle, just like always.” Cami hightailed it to the kitchen door. “Get me in trouble just because I was trying to help you get a little lucky.” Turning to Mitch, she gave a self-deprecating smile. “I’m sorry I had to use you for that, but surely you can see I was just trying to help things along.”

Mitch bit back his grin. “I understand.”

“See?” Cami spoke to Dimi. “He understands.” She stepped out and slammed the door behind her, but in a flash the door was flung open again. Cami stormed in and grabbed the bowl of chips off the counter.

“Hey,” Dimi protested, gaze glued to those chips.

Without another word, Cami slammed out. Again.

The silence was deafening. “I suppose I should apologize for that,” Dimi finally said.

“No.”

“No?”

Mitch didn’t want her apology, he wanted the kiss he’d almost gotten, and he wanted it from the real Dimi. He wanted it with a sudden, shocking yearning that he wasn’t going to question right now, not with Dimi looking at him with a little heat of her own in her eyes. Heat and curiosity and lingering embarrassment. “We could just get it out of the way, you know,” he suggested, stepping toward her.

“Get what out of the way?” But she licked her lips and glanced at his mouth, giving herself away.

“You know what.”

“I don’t even know why you’re here, in my kitchen, getting yourself sexually harassed by my sister, much less anything else.”

“I’m here to pick you up.”

“Ah.” She nodded in sudden understanding. “You thought after your little shenanigans yesterday that I wouldn’t show up for work. Good. That means I’m not fired. That you need me.”

“Oh, I need you,” he murmured, a bit surprised at how much.

At that, she took a step back, so that she was caged between the dishwasher and the oven.

He followed.

“Sexually aggressive men annoy me,” she said.

Sliding his hands to her hips, he turned them around so he was the one caged in. “Okay. You be the sexually aggressive one, then. I’m an equal opportunist when it comes to-”

She put a finger on his lips. “Don’t say the word sex.”

“Why not?”

“Because when you say it, it does something funny to my knees.”

“Yeah?” He liked that. She was close, her mouth softly parted, her eyes slumberous. He liked that, too. “Kiss me, Dimi.”

“Uh.” She swallowed, hard. “That would be extremely unwise.”

“Why?”

“Why?” She looked lost for a moment, as if she couldn’t quite remember why.

“We both want it,” he said.

“Do you give yourself everything you want?”

“Absolutely. That’s the bonus of being all grown up. I can break curfew, not eat my spinach…and kiss whomever I want, even if it’s extremely unwise.”

She stared at him, actually considering.

“Think of all the fire it will give the show today,” he coaxed, but that was where he made his mistake. He knew it as soon as her eyes cooled and her mouth hardened.