Judy Duarte: Triplets Found: The Virgin's Makeover / Take a Chance on Me / And Then There Were Three

He took her hand and held it in his lap. His thumb made a slow circle on her skin, sending a warm rippling tingle along her arm. “We rushed into things last time, and I intend to take it slow this evening.”

How slow? She wasn’t sure whether she could wait patiently, without pouncing on him, trying to revive the heated kiss they’d shared in the winery.

The fire licked the logs on the grate in the hearth, while the sounds of a sexy instrumental filled the air. The ambiance heightened her senses, her sexual awareness. Her anticipation. And she realized Sullivan knew exactly what he was doing, where he was taking her.

The lovemaking had already begun.

He gave her hand a gentle squeeze, and she looked at him, caught the passion in his gaze.

Then he kissed her. Slow and gentle at first, but deepening the kiss until she thought she’d go wild. Desire nearly consumed her, and she ached to have him inside her, where he belonged—if only until the end of the month.

Somehow, and she wasn’t entirely sure when, she ended up lying on the sofa, with him hovering over her, caressing her, taking her places she’d never been.

Sullivan wrestled with his desire, trying to keep it at bay, while he slowly removed her shirt, baring her breasts for him to caress and kiss. Her nipples had already beaded, and a flush crept over her chest—a sure sign that his efforts to arouse her had been rewarded. But he wouldn’t stop the foreplay yet, wouldn’t press for more.

They made out like a couple of teenagers exploring their sexuality, their bodies’ reactions. And even though Sullivan had a lot of experience, he still found it exciting to learn what pleasured Lissa, to watch the passion glaze her eyes, to hear her whimper.

He used his hands and his mouth to bring her to the precipice of her first climax. And he nearly beat his chest in primal pride when the waves of pleasure took her over the edge.

“Oh, wow,” she said, her eyes wide in awe. “I’ve read about those, but never had any idea it would be so nice.”

“Nice?”

“Much better than nice,” she said, a sated smile curling her lips.

“They’ll only get better,” he said.

“Next time?”

“As the night progresses.”

Sullivan and Lissa made love on the sofa. And on the living-room floor. And finally, sometime before dawn, they found themselves on the bed, in a room lit only by lilac-scented candles Sullivan had found in the linen closet and used to set the mood throughout the house before she’d arrived.

He knew they’d both be wiped out tomorrow, as they tried to focus on the work still left to be done. But tonight he didn’t care.

As they lay amidst rumpled sheets, among the blended scent of their lovemaking and fields of lilac, Sullivan ran a hand along Lissa’s hip, taking time to savor the silky texture of her skin.

Lissa might be new to the world of sex, but she was a fast learner.

“I’d like to ask you a question,” she said.

Uh-oh. His hand slowed, his fingers resting upon the edge of her thigh. “What do you want to know?”

“How do you feel about us having a discreet affair, one that’ll end when you leave?”

Normally, he would have run for the hills at a time like this. But even though he was wary of entering a committed relationship, the one she proposed didn’t seem too scary, especially since he had an out. He was leaving in two weeks—maybe less.

And she was only suggesting a short-term affair, which is all his relationships ever were.

If he told her no, he’d have a hell of a time keeping his hands to himself while they continued to work together. And quite frankly, he didn’t want to. Not after the last mind-spinning climax they’d shared.

Funny, but the idea of a one-on-one until he left the vineyard didn’t bother him—too much.

Some women got pretty territorial when it came to the men they were sleeping with. Except, maybe, for the ladies he dated.

But Lissa wasn’t like any of the women he’d gone out with in the past. And he wasn’t sure whether that was a good thing or not. Still, he’d be a fool to think he could remain at the vineyard without wanting to make love to her again.

“A two-week affair?” he asked. “One we keep secret?”

She nodded.

“I think that can be arranged.”

She smiled, green eyes dancing in the candlelight. He felt a tightening in his chest, just at the thought of having her to himself. Heck, he might even get a little territorial—for the next couple of weeks.

That was one way to put the kibosh on ol’ Dapper Dad’s program.

“What about Martinelli?” he asked, hating himself for doing so. But he wanted to hear her say the dinner date was history before it even started.

“What about him?” Lissa asked, tracing his eyebrow with her finger.

“Are you going to cancel your dinner plans?”

“Why should I?” she asked.

“Just wondered. That’s all.” He tried to keep the reaction from his face, the furrowed brow, the frown. The surprise. Disappointment, too.

Lissa was going out with the guy anyway?

She brushed a lock of hair from his forehead, her fingers lingering on his skin. “I know you don’t like Anthony, although I can’t figure out why. It’s only a dinner. Besides, you’ll be leaving soon.”

And that meant she’d have another lover waiting in the wings.

Sullivan’s gut knotted. But only because his successor might be Anthony Martinelli. That’s the only reason.

He didn’t want her to go, but what was he supposed to say? I want you to myself?

No way. Sullivan wasn’t into promises and commitments. Not with women.

Not even when the lady looked as good as Lissa and fit so nicely in his arms.

Besides, his work here would be over soon. And if she was taking the affair this casually, all the better for him. All the easier his leaving would be.

So why did he still feel like clobbering the old guy?

Like a masochistic fool, Sullivan sat on the porch of his cottage, waiting for Martinelli’s car to pull up. He still couldn’t believe Lissa hadn’t called off the date. Hell, she’d even left the vineyard office early to get ready.

And here he was—babysitting the darn dog like a lovesick clown.

What kind of deal was that?

In the wee hours of the morning, before she’d left to sneak back into her house, Sullivan had again asked her if the dinner was still on. He’d expected her to tell him she would call Martinelli and cancel. After all, it didn’t seem right to spend the night making love with one man, then go out to dinner with another when the sheets were hardly cold.

“Anthony and I have known each other for years,” she’d told him. As if that negated what Martinelli had up his sleeve.

“We’re just friends,” she’d added.

Oh yeah? Well somebody ought to tell the old buzzard that. Martinelli wanted more from Lissa than friendship.

The puppy growled, then barked and tugged on his new yellow leash, trying to get Sullivan’s attention. Barney wanted to go for a walk near the pond, as they’d done in the past. But Sullivan wasn’t going anywhere.

He preferred to stew on the porch about something that shouldn’t bother him at all.

When a champagne-colored, late-model Lexus pulled up, Sullivan tensed his jaw. He watched as Martinelli climbed from the car and headed to the house, all decked up in a classy suit. Suave and sophisticated. Tall and lean.

The guy looked good for his age. Too good. He probably had a gym in his house. And steered clear of fats and carbs.

Sullivan grumbled under his breath. Maybe he ought to just take the dog for a walk, watch Barney chase one of the old ducks that waddled in and out of the pond.