Roxanne St. Claire - The Ashtons - Paige, Grant & Trace

“So you said at breakfast yesterday. And do your plans include taking Matt Camberlane to Louret?”

Paige nodded, moving her gaze to the bay window behind Megan’s desk and making a point of studying the late afternoon shadows on the estate grounds.

“Why?” Without looking, she could feel Megan’s stare burning her. “What does that have to do with the Halloween product launch party we’re doing for Symphonics?”

“Well…” Paige plucked at an imaginary thread on her dress. “Nothing.”

Their gazes finally met as Megan waited for an explanation.

“He offered to come with me. To make it comfortable, more social and less like a showdown. I can take him to the tasting room and just chat with Jillian.”

“No, you can’t.”

More disappointment. “Megan, we don’t have any events scheduled for tomorrow. I don’t need to be here.”

“Louret’s tasting room is closed on Tuesdays.”

“Oh, well, that’s okay. Jillian usually spends her days off at The Vines, so I’ll just visit with her and Mercedes, if she’s around.”

“Anna Sheridan is staying there,” Megan said, referring to the woman who’d assumed custody of baby Jack, the result of their father’s last fling.

Jack’s mother had died shortly after giving birth, but her sister, Anna, had been welcomed into the home of Caroline and Lucas Sheppard. That act alone proved to Paige that Caroline, Spencer Ashton’s second wife, had plenty of class.

“I’d really like to meet the little guy,” Paige admitted. “Jillian told me he’s cute as a button.”

Megan rubbed her tummy. “I saw a picture of him. He’s divine. Makes me want a boy.”

“As if it matters. With you and Simon as parents, he or she will be dazzling, smart and the control freak from hell.”

Megan laughed. “I’ve been better lately, don’t you think?”

“Yep. Raging morning sickness is the first thing to slow you down in your life.”

“It’s not just that. I want to concentrate on Simon. I’m letting you manage the whole Symphonics thing, aren’t I?”

“Well, Matt has his hands all over it, too.”

“Just so he doesn’t have his hands all over you, little sister.”

Heat coursed through her at the thought.

“Or has he already?” There was no tease in Megan’s accusation this time.

Paige said nothing, avoiding her sister’s probing gaze.

“You slept with him?” Megan asked, shocked.

“No!” That, at least was the truth. The hands-all-over-her part, well. He had done that. And would again, if Paige had her way. “I did not sleep with him.”

The only sound was the ticking brass clock on Megan’s desk.

“Yet,” Paige added quietly.

Megan searched her face with a plea in her eyes. “Paige, don’t do anything stupid.”

A burst of anger propelled her from the chair. “Why is it when anyone else in this family falls into lust, it’s fine. With baby Paige, it’s stupid. I’m twenty-two, Meg. I’m not a virgin.” Paige folded her arms and looked down at Megan. “The guy melts my bones. I want him.”

Megan sighed as the echoes of Paige’s admission hung in the room. “I’d be a hypocrite if I told you I don’t know how good it feels to want someone who melts your bones. I still feel it every time Simon looks at me.”

“I can feel it when the two of you are in the same room.”

“Yeah,” she said wistfully. “It’s nice, this love stuff. But, Paige, I don’t think Matt Camberlane has ‘love stuff’ in mind. Walker told me he was burned by his wife and is definitely committed to not being committed, if you get my drift.”

Great. Now Megan and Walker were discussing her love life. Or sex life, as the case may be. “Listen, I don’t want love, or even a commitment, Meg.” A sly smile lifted Paige’s lips. “I just want that bone-melting business again.”

“Again?”

“Well, things got a little heated on Sunday. But…we stopped.” He stopped. But some things couldn’t be shared. Even with a sister.

“Just be careful, sweetie. I don’t want you to end up with a broken heart.”

With a sudden rush of affection, Paige came around the desk, dipping down to hug Megan. “I won’t,” she promised. “And you know what? This ‘love stuff’ sure agrees with you.”

“Nah.” Megan smiled ruefully. “I’m still a control freak, Paige. And if anybody hurts my little sister, I’ll…I’ll—”

“Sic Simon on him?”

“And Walker and Trace,” she promised.

“I’ll be fine,” Paige assured her. “And you’re okay with my being gone tomorrow?”

Megan nodded. “Things are under control in the Event Planning Department. You see what you can do with the family problems.”

“I will.”

“And don’t let your bones melt too easily, Paige.”

Paige just laughed. Too late for that. She was a puddle.

In the late-morning light, the twenty-something-thousand-square-foot mansion of Ashton Estate Wineries looked gilded by the sun. The dark cream-colored stone took on a tawny, golden tinge that reminded Matt of the honey-toned streaks in Paige Ashton’s hair.

With a quick shake of his head, Matt erased the thought and parked in the circular drive.

He’d done a magnificent job of staying on the phone for the whole hour and fifteen minutes it took him to drive up from San Mateo. He’d participated in a product development conference call, listened to his CFO wax eloquent about VoiceBox preorders, and convinced the president of one of the world’s largest retailers to rearrange four thousand stores to prominently feature the product before Christmas.

He’d worked. He refused to buckle under the temptation to slide Ol’ Blue Eyes into the CD player and let his mind wander…and reconsider just why he’d made this unorthodox offer in the first place.

He’d already decided, and there was nothing he hated more than second guessing a decision.

He’d decided to accompany Paige to visit her half siblings for one simple reason: to up the ante. To raise the stakes. What good was a little body vs. brain challenge if it was too easy? If he was really going to win a battle with his libido, then he had to immerse himself in her world and torture his senses with proximity.

Then he could walk away after the VoiceBox launch party, shake her hand and say, “Great working with you, Paige.” And wouldn’t that be something?

Yeah. Something stupid.

But it wasn’t stupid to prove to himself that he could indeed have a platonic relationship with a woman who charged him sexually. Especially when he sensed the same electrical impulses arced through her body, too.

He could do it. He’d promised Walker, and he’d promised himself. He could work with her and even develop a friendship with her, but he wouldn’t risk seeing those tears again. Regardless of how she managed to lean a little too close, and hold their eye contact a little too long.

Before he could open the driver’s door, Paige emerged from the shadow of the overhang that ran along the east wing of the estate. As she stepped into the sunshine, he just gave in and admired her. She wore pale yellow from top to toe—reminding him of sweet creamery butter that could, with one warm touch, melt in his hands.

A line from one of his favorite songs flashed in Matt’s head. Something about only you beneath the moon…and under the sun.

With a quick wave she indicated for him to stay in the car as she approached, but he climbed out and took another appreciative glance at the way her silk trousers hugged her narrow hips, and still another glimpse at the tempting curves under the designer sweater.

“Morning, sunshine.” He dug his hands into his pockets to keep from embracing her.