Then she licked her lips again and he felt his throat grow dry as his stomach tightened in a knot of arousal. He wondered if she would bring this same level of focus to their lovemaking. When he slipped inside her, would she grip him so tightly, he wouldn’t know where he left off and she began? Would she call out his name as she reached her peak? Would her eyes flutter closed or would she watch him watching her as they both flew over the edge? He would have his answer soon, of that he had no doubt.

A few minutes later, Adam saw Pamela, the flight attendant, leave her seat. He took it as an indication that the plane had leveled off enough that they were free to move around.

“You can open your eyes now,” he said. “Mission accomplished.”

She blinked her eyes open and glanced around, then abruptly released his hand. When she realized he was staring at her, she sighed. “I suppose you think I’m nuts.”

He smiled indulgently as he unlatched his seat belt. “Not at all.”

“Right,” she said acerbically, then muttered, “I’m not sure why you needed me to come along anyway.”

She might not have seen the point of her presence here today, but Adam did. The point was seduction. He intended to keep her very close to him from now on. He was on a mission of his own and there was no doubt whether he would accomplish it or not. She would be his. His for as long as he desired her. Eventually he would let her know he’d guessed her true intentions and he’d send his sexy gold digger packing.

For now, he sat back in the streamlined chair and assumed a relaxed pose.

“I’ll need you to take notes as we survey the problem areas of the parking structure. We’ll have to turn those notes into a joint agreement with the lawyers. But I also want your point of view on things in general. You haven’t been to the resort so I’d like to hear your first impressions of everything you see.”

She thought about that for a moment, then nodded. “I’ll do my best.”

“I expect nothing less.”

She smiled hesitantly. “Thank you.”

Pamela arrived with a basket of muffins and croissants with butter and jam, then poured coffee and juice.

He watched Trish choose a flaky croissant, then slather it in butter and jam.

“I told you to order whatever you wanted,” he said. “They must have some low-fat frittata thing with gloppy yogurt, or maybe some flavor-free granola? We could ask.”

She had the good grace to laugh. “No, I told them I’d have whatever you were having.”

“I’m in shock,” he admitted, then stared at the rich chocolate croissant on his plate. “This stuff probably isn’t the healthiest choice, but it’s the easiest, and they taste great.”

“We all have to indulge once in a while,” she said, then took a bite of the croissant and almost moaned in delight. “Oh, it’s so good.”

He couldn’t look away. She happily ate the entire pastry, savoring each little morsel on her plate. When he caught her licking a drop of jam off her finger, it took every last ounce of willpower he had to maintain self-control and not start licking her fingers himself.

Trish, meanwhile, seemed completely unaware of his precarious state. How was that possible? How could someone who’d agreed to play a part in his mother’s matchmaking game be so oblivious to the effect she was having on him?

The only explanation was that she knew exactly what she was doing. It was all an act. Licking jam off her fingers, gripping his hand earlier-it was all part of the game. And if she wanted to play games, he was all for it. But he was the one who would decide precisely what game they’d play.

And the name of this game was hardball.


After twenty minutes of breakfast and business talk, the dishes were cleared and Trish excused herself. She made her way to the airplane’s compact bathroom, where she washed her hands, then stared at herself in the mirror.

“What is wrong with you?” she whispered viciously. “Have you gone insane?” She splashed some water in her face to clear her brain before freshening her lipstick. She still couldn’t believe she’d grabbed hold of Adam’s hand earlier. Yes, she was a nervous flyer, but that was no excuse. He was her boss, for goodness’ sake, as well as her sworn enemy.

But it had felt so comfortable and seemed so right to hold on to him. And he didn’t appear to have minded at all. In fact, he’d been the one to touch her first, hadn’t he? So it wasn’t really her fault, was it?

“I don’t care who started it,” she berated herself, “There will be no more holding hands with the boss.”

She needed to maintain some sense of dignity, after all. She still had to get through the day with him, not to mention the trip back home. What would she do for an encore on that flight? Kiss him?

“Oh, don’t even go there.”

But it was too late. She’d been thinking about it for days, wondering what it would be like to kiss him. How it would feel to be held and touched and made love to by him. Her thighs tingled at the image she’d conjured up and the desire threatened to overwhelm her.

She was in big trouble.

She exhaled heavily, knowing she had to shake those thoughts away. If she fell for Adam Duke, she wouldn’t be able to live with the consequences. She wouldn’t be able to face Mrs. Collins or Sam Sutter, the bike store owner, or the Mauberts or any of the others, having broken her vow to avenge their pain. She needed to remember their faces, remember her goal, her mission.

Shoring up her nerves, she fluffed her hair and straightened her suit jacket, then made her way back to her seat.

Adam had opened his briefcase while she was gone and was looking over some sort of legal document.

As she sat down, he looked up and shook his head. “I’m reading the specs and they’re all correct. The ADA parameters are all spelled out. So why didn’t the construction company get it right?”

“Will you consider a lawsuit?” she asked.

He laughed without humor. “We can’t exactly sue a company that we own.”

She blinked. “You own Parameter Construction?”

“Yeah.” He didn’t look happy. “Bought ’em last year, along with a few other small companies. We’re still working out the kinks.”

“Oh. Well, that’s a problem, but maybe it won’t be as bad as you think.”

He shrugged. “We’ll know soon enough. No matter what needs to be done, I refuse to delay the opening. The resort is booked to capacity for the entire season. I won’t put that in jeopardy.”

“Absolutely not,” she said indignantly. “They’ll just have to make it happen.”

“Exactly,” he said, then leaned a little closer to add, “I admire your passion.”

It was a simple compliment, so why was she suddenly tongue-tied? Did he mean it as a double entendre or was it just her wild imagination again? When he said passion, did he mean passion? Or did he simply appreciate her enthusiasm for the work? Did it matter? And could she be a bigger dolt? She realized that he was staring again and scrambled desperately to collect her wits back from wherever they’d scattered off to.

“Anyone can see it’s the right thing to do,” she said weakly.

“Not necessarily,” he said, tapping the document. “Some people don’t have a problem cutting corners.”

“Please fasten your seat belts, Mr. Duke, Ms. James,” Pamela said. “We’re beginning our descent and should be landing shortly.”

Trish’s nerves began to race in a whole new direction as she fumbled for the seat belt.

“All buckled up?” he asked, shoving the document back into his briefcase.

“I’m getting there,” she said, annoyed to hear the tension in her own voice. Finally, she managed to connect the belt securely around her waist.

Without another word, Adam took her hand in his. The movement pulled her up close to his warm, solid shoulder and her fears gave way to heated cravings. She tried to concentrate on breathing, deeply, evenly, but his strong, masculine scent got in the way. It clouded her mind and turned her thoughts to mush. When he began to stroke her hand softly with his thumb in an apparent effort to calm her, Trish almost melted into a puddle right then and there.


The plane cleared the mountain, then leveled off as it descended toward the Fantasy Mountain airstrip. It could hardly be called an airport, although that was the Dukes’ eventual plan for it.

Adam glanced over at Trish and noticed that she’d turned a delicate shade of green. It must’ve been that sharp bank over the last mountain range that did her in. Was she going to be ill? She had a death grip on his hand and was rubbing her stomach with her free hand. She seemed to be trying to swallow over and over, probably to keep her ears from popping.

A moment ago, a strange protective instinct had made him take hold of her hand in an attempt to reassure her that everything would be okay. Watching her now, he had an irresistible urge to pull her onto his lap, cradle her in his arms and soothe away her fears. But he resisted and the moment passed.

It wasn’t his job to comfort her. Yes, it bothered him that she seemed to be suffering, but he had to keep in mind just why she was there in the first place.

Damn, she was the most unlikely gold digger he’d ever met. She should’ve been more sophisticated, more of a game player. She should’ve been the sort of woman who was used to flying off to exotic places and carrying on casual, flirtatious conversations with men. But she hardly seemed the type.

He wondered what Sally and Marjorie had promised her in exchange for her part in this charade. Besides Adam Duke, that is. Had they offered her money? A new car? A permanent job with the company?

But Adam knew his mother and the more he thought about it, the more certain he was that his mother would never try to buy off a woman with material goods. No, Mom would figure that marriage to her son would be a good enough lure for any woman.