Free One Night Standards by Cathy Yardley Page A

is legendary on the trade-show circuit,” he said lamely. Carol looked shocked. Simone looked smug. Mrs. Marion—well, her expression was one of amused inscrutability.
    Oh, hell.
    â€œWould you excuse me?” he said. “I have to make a quick phone call.”
    He left, cradling his phone in his hand until he was safely in the hallway. Then he cursed himself under his breath. He didn’t need to make a phone call. He only needed a moment to think the situation through.
    It was a tiny comment. Practically innocent.
    Simone was going to have a field day with that one innocent remark, he just knew it.
    Of course—if they assume you’re sleeping with her already, you might as well go ahead and do the crime you’re being punished for.
    For the first time that night, he felt an anticipatory smile cross his face.

    â€œH OW COULD YOU BE SO STUPID ?” Sophie muttered to herself for the fiftieth time.
    She was sitting in her hotel room, mentally reviewing the dinner meeting. It had all been going so well. She’d been professional, but she hadn’t backed down. She’d shown them that she meant business. Then, with two little words, she’d managed to portray herself as a floozy—somebody who was obviously too close to the competition.
    â€œHow else was I supposed to know that Mark liked chocolate?” she said, covering her face with a pillow and groaning.
    For somebody who prided herself on her professionalism, she was doing a damned poor job of maintaining it when it came to Mark McMann.
    The worst part was it was all her fault. If only she hadn’t called him…If only she’d stuck to her instincts, kept it strictly business…
    Oh, who are you kidding? The only thing you’re regretting right now is the fact that you don’t have more to feel guilty about.
    And there it was, staring her baldly in the face.
    She still wanted Mark McMann. Yes, it was foolhardy: he was a competitor; she was a professional; there was a whole litany of reasons why she shouldn’t get involved with him. But the bottom line was she liked the way he made her feel.
    He’s charming. That’s his best weapon, her business instincts warned her. But her body was not listening to her common sense. It was more attuned to the siren call of his southern drawl, the way his blue eyes pierced through her like a hot knife through butter.
    Damn, but she wanted him. Even after tonight’s fiasco.
    I’ve never wanted anyone the way I want him.
    There was a knock on her hotel-room door. She frowned, wondering who it was at this hour. She opened the door cautiously.
    Mark was standing there, looking over his shoulder. “Sophie,” he said, his voice a low murmur. “Can I come in?”
    She nodded, more out of surprise than anything. He hurried inside, closing the door behind him.
    â€œDon’t worry,” he reassured her. “Nobody saw me come in here.”
    He shouldn’t be here, her instincts kicked up again. Get him out, before you do something even more stupid.
    â€œWhat are you doing here?” she asked instead.
    He stared at her, silent, for a long moment.
    â€œYou know why I’m here.”
    She swallowed hard. “Yeah. I guess I do.”
    It was crazy. Beyond crazy. But she knew exactly why he was there.
    She knew, because she felt the exact same way.
    She went to the minifridge, getting out a bottle of wine she’d purchased with the intention of drowning her embarrassment. “Wine?” she offered, her voice breaking slightly.
    He nodded. She poured the ruby-red liquid, her hands trembling slightly. She jumped when his large hands covered hers. “Allow me,” he said smoothly.
    She let him take over, feeling a sensation of unreality wash over the whole situation. When he handed her a glass, she took a quick, large sip.
    â€œAre you all right?” he asked in a deep, low voice.
    She chuckled, her laughter sounding