persuaded me. I would have hated to miss Bobbi’s birthday. I was just clinging to the excuse of work because—” Her eyes widened, locking on a point behind Heath. Her fair complexion paled beyond its normal ivory.
Damn. Heath didn’t need to turn around to know Cam was inside. Probably with a date, judging from Phoebe’s pained expression. It had been too much to hope that her attending the party looking like fantasy made flesh was a sign she’d moved past her feelings for the hotshot chef. They’d been together for years. She wasn’t shallow enough to put that behind her in a matter of days.
“Phoebe?” He took her drink and set both their glasses on the nearby railing. “Do you trust me?”
Her gaze snapped back to his. “Sure.”
That makes one of us. Heath knew better than to trust his own motives as he cupped the side of her face. Helping her salvage her dignity provided an excellent excuse to touch her, and being successful in business had taught him a thing or two about seizing opportunities. Tendrils of her fiery hair tickled his arm as he leaned closer. “I have a plan.”
Then he pulled her tight against him and kissed her.
THE WORLD SPUN wildly around Phoebe as her brain tried to process what was happening. Her body, meanwhile, just wanted to revel in Heath’s kiss. He traced her lips, and then his tongue met hers, the hint of bourbon a sweet burn that spread through her. His hands were at the small of her back, holding her against him in a way that gave her a whole new appreciation for his body. She’d always considered him a sharp dresser, but suddenly she wondered what he’d look like without the well-tailored suits.
He kissed with assertive confidence, like a man who knew exactly what she wanted and was happy to give it to her.
For the past ten days, she’d been like a sleepwalker, cocooned in dull numbness. She hadn’t even realized how detached she’d been until now, with sensation rushing through her. Her skin tingled with pleasure. She angled her head, encouraging Heath to deepen the kiss. He did, and a shock wave of desire hit her. When was the last time she’d felt this damn good?
She curled her fingers in his dark hair. It was thick and soft, free of the stiff styling products that Cam—
Oh, God. Cam.
The memory of her ex’s presence jolted her from the sensual daze, and she staggered back, glad for the support of the iron-and-concrete railing behind her. “What the hell was that?” she asked, her voice little more than a breathless whisper.
Unreadable emotion flashed in Heath’s green eyes. Regret? Before he could answer, a guy from the far end of the balcony whistled at them. “We were debating whether we’d have to throw a bucket of water on you guys. Guess you two don’t need a party to have a good time.”
Cheeks stinging with embarrassment, Phoebe retreated inside...but drew up short when she found herself face-to-face with a scowling Cam. Heath was instantly at her side, his hand pressed lightly to her spine. She couldn’t tell if the gesture was meant to be comforting or possessive. But after the way every nerve in her body had just responded to him, the touch was like a brand through her beaded dress, as if her entire universe had contracted to his palm and fingers. For a second, she couldn’t even register what Cam was saying. She simply held her breath, waiting to see how Heath touched her next.
“—you two would be here together.” Cam’s words, at first just a meaningless buzz, slowly took shape. He’d pasted a smile on his face, the polite one he forced himself to use with important food critics he didn’t like, but anger edged his tone.
“Phoebe isn’t technically my date,” Heath said. “I’m just grateful I ran into her. You never know where a chance encounter might lead.” He looked at her when he said it, his tone meaningful.
Her breath hitched before sanity caught up to her. Heath was deliberately baiting his own business partner, making Cam think there was something between them. Why would he do that? The two men were planning to open a second restaurant together, and that process would run a lot smoother without any manufactured tension between them.
Cam looked startled by Heath’s insinuation. “I, ah...” His gaze went to Phoebe, searching, and she tried to look cheerful, not at all like she’d rather be home in yoga pants than facing her ex. Then his date cleared her throat. “Oh! Allow me to introduce you to Donna Moore.”
“Dana,” the blonde snapped, her eyes narrowing in displeasure.
“Dana. Of course. That’s what I meant to say. Dana, this is Heath and Phoebe.”
“Charmed.” If her tone was any icier, they could use it to make frozen drinks.
“How about we, uh, go wish Bobbi a happy birthday?” Cam suggested, steering his date away. As they merged into the crowd, he cast one final glance over his shoulder.
At me. Phoebe fought a grin at the surprising knowledge that he was jealous. As the executive chef of a noted restaurant, Cam was often in the spotlight, giving interviews and emerging from the kitchen to greet special customers. She’d been so proud of him, content to bake her desserts and watch him soak up the accolades. But it was a refreshing change to be the one getting a little attention.
Belatedly, she recalled Heath’s words before his mouth claimed hers. I have a plan. Understanding dawned. “You kissed me to make him jealous.”
“Hope you don’t think that’s too petty or juvenile.”
“Actually...” She recalled the times Cam had praised her as his muse and led her to believe marriage was in their distant future, contrasting those moments with the brutal shock of his announcement that they were “stifling” each other. He hadn’t even had the balls to make a clean break. Instead, he’d suggested they still go out occasionally—which she’d translated as code for wanting a backup sexual partner on the nights nothing better came along. Hell, no. “That was awesome.”
She just wished she’d realized sooner that Heath’s kiss was only playacting. As she recalled the greedy way she’d clutched at him and how her toes had curled inside Gwen’s borrowed stilettos, embarrassment rippled through her. Way to come on like a sex-starved hussy. She deeply regretted the loss of the martini she’d left behind.
“Thank you,” she told him. “But you didn’t have to do that.”
“Kissing a beautiful woman is no hardship.”
Heath thinks I’m beautiful. There was a momentary flush of giddiness before she reminded herself that he was a connoisseur of women. He appreciated many forms and shapes, the way she could savor dozens of desserts from around the world without ever picking a favorite. How many countless women had she heard him call “sweetheart” or “gorgeous”? His compliment, though flattering, wasn’t personal.
“Besides,” he added, frowning in Cam’s direction, “the big jerk had it coming. You were the best thing that ever happened to him.”
“That’s what Gwen said, too.” She was blessed to have such loyal friends, even ones who inexplicably disliked each other. The day Cam had broken up with her, Gwen had partially blamed Heath.
“That business partner makes single life look so glamorous, with his endless parade of women,” her
