Free One Blazing Night by Jo Leigh Page A

trainer and the rest of the room, but he agreed.
    All Matt could do was let the laughter slide off his back. He was in great shape. He could do this.
    It felt damn good to land two straight rights in a row.
    Less so when his opponent abandoned the jabs and the pitty-pat punches and nailed him with a right hook to the ribs.
    * * *
    A S THE SUN inched slowly down, Sam stood in front of the apartment door, knowing Matt probably knew she was there. She hesitated anyway. She was hungry, which was good, because no matter which chef’s brochure he’d chosen, the food would be excellent. She’d purposely worn comfortable clothes, not wanting to send any kind of message, especially because they weren’t going out. Her black jeans were old favorites and who knew how the pink bowling shirt had come into her possession, but she liked it. Since the warm weather from last evening had taken a turn for the bitter, she’d pulled on her camel coat. She carried her big black tote bag as a purse.
    It was the tote that had her worried. She’d put her overnight kit inside. Panties, a T-shirt, socks, toiletries, condoms, a little makeup, a brush. Everything that shouted one-night stand so loudly she was positive Matt would take one look at her and know she’d decided to go for plan B.
    In her defense, she’d made her final decision for the good of her work. Not that she’d tell Matt that. Her brain was too full of wanting him, and she wasn’t concentrating properly. Clark had noticed, of course. And even though she hadn’t said what was bothering her, he probably knew.
    Right now, though, work wasn’t her main concern. So many things could go wrong. The most important of which was she might lose Matt’s friendship.
    No, even if Matt did figure out she’d brought condoms in her purse, it didn’t mean she couldn’t change her mind. He would never press her for more than she was willing to give.
    She rang the doorbell, grinning at the sound of the MP3 playing the first twenty seconds of “Immigrant Song.” At least she didn’t have to worry about Matt finding out suddenly that she was a weirdo. He’d known that from the get-go.
    The door swung open, and his smile hit her right in the flutters. It made breathing a little difficult.
    â€œYou have a key,” he said with that dry voice that always made her smile.
    â€œI’m not going to barge in on my guests. I wasn’t raised by wolves.”
    â€œNo, maybe robots. Or cyborgs. Probably cyborgs. Come on in.”
    She stepped into the room, and Matt was suddenly coming at her, his face close enough that she didn’t even think—she just turned so his lips would touch hers.
    She could feel him jerk a little, and that was when she realized he’d been going for a cheek kiss.
    Swell.
    But the man was quick. Before she could even lean back, he’d pressed in, changing the cool lip-on-lip stalemate into what felt like a real kiss. No tongue, though. She put her mixed feelings aside about that, mostly because she’d seen something, people, probably the servers or the chef, standing in the space between the living room and the kitchen.
    Matt let her pull back, and his eyes met hers square on as she did. He grinned again. “Hey. You’re here.”
    â€œI am,” she said. “It smells like honey and strawberries. Are we having dessert first?”
    â€œUh...no. In fact, I’ll take your coat. You can take the rest of your clothes off in the second bedroom. The robe is already laid out on the bed.”
    â€œExcuse... What?”
    â€œCoat? Purse?”
    Sam leaned to her right until she could see past Matt. The two people, one male, one female, were dressed in white as chefs would be, but they weren’t there to prepare food. There in the living room were two massage tables set up side by side. Something soft played over the apartment speakers, and the smell inside changed