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Standing, Bryce shook Greenwood’s hand.

“And next time, Mr. Ryder, have enough self-respect to wear a suit. It’s all about the image, you know.

Four weeks. Remember that. Get that reputation of yours cleaned up and we’ll be happy to back you.”

Bryce nodded and whispered, “Fuck you,” under his breath before letting himself out of Greenwood’s

office. Ten minutes later, he was in his Jag, the top down, driving to his restaurant.

Four weeks? How the hell was he going to turn his rep around in four goddamn weeks? Even if he did

follow through with Jenna’s plan, which he still had no intention of doing, it would take months before

they saw any results. He didn’t have months. He had weeks. And damn it, he was starting to

worry—seriously worry about how he was going to do this.

His cell rang, and he jumped, nearly swerving off the road. Damn, he was wired tight, and it was all

thanks to Jenna McCabe, who was doing a fucking number on his head. First with her plan, and then

with her sexy body and that hotter-than-hell self-confidence he was suddenly going crazy for.

“Hey, little brother.” It was Trey, but Bryce could hardly hear him. “Thought I’d check in to see how

dessert went last night.”

Bryce struggled to hear Trey through the static. The signal was bad and the call was dropped. Thankfully

Bryce had just pulled up in front of his restaurant. He’d call Trey back, gather a few things, then head

back to Jenna’s apartment. There was no way in hell he was letting her off the hook that easily.

And man, she was going to pay for making him crazed. All he could think about was when he could get

inside her again. When all heshould have been thinking about was his four-week deadline.

“Hey, Bryce.” Tyson was moving around the restaurant, placing crisp linens on the tables.

“Hey,” he grunted in return. He was at the swing door of the kitchen when he stopped and looked back

over his shoulder. “Tyson,” he called, waiting for his brother to glance over.

“Yeah?”

“That date you have tonight, with Jenna?”

“What about it?”

“If you don’t cancel it, there’s going to be some serious fucking problems between us—you got that?”

The little shit had the audacity to laugh. “I’m not kidding, Ty. Ditch the date or find yourself in traction.”

“That’s telling,” his sous chef laughed from behind the hanging pots and pans that were suspended from

the ceiling.

“Can it,” Bryce snapped back. “Listen, the kitchen is yours tonight.”

Mark peeked between two copper saucepans. “You’re shitting me, right? I’ve been your sous chef for

nearly five years and you’ve never left me alone.”

“Don’t remind me. Just . . . don’t screw up.”

Mark saluted him. “Aye, Captain. I won’t let you down. We still going with the tilapia for the special

tonight?”

“Yeah. And make that citrus sauce of yours. I like that combination. And find a nice white wine pairing,

too. Something mild, maybe a tad on the sweet side in case the fish is a bit fishy-tasting. And if you need

me, I’ll be on my cell.”

“And what are you cooking tonight?” Mark asked with a leer. “Something hot and spicy?”

“Steaks. Big, juicy, thick ones.”

“All that red meat,” Mark said with a shake of his head. “That’ll give you some staying power.”

For the first time that day, Bryce grinned.Oh yeah. He was going to wine, dine, and definitely sixty-nine

tonight. He was going to give Jenna McCabe one hell of a birthday gift. And damn it, she was going to

wake up beside him the next morning, even if he had to tie her down.

And that image, of Jenna tied down and him having his way with her, was never far from his thoughts for

the rest of the day.

Seven

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I ’mfucked.

Trey stared at the subject line of Bryce’s e-mail and chuckled. “You got it bad, little brother,” he said,

reading the e-mail for the second time. “Real bad.”

So we share an incredible night of sex, and then she leaves me. Can you believe it? She just fucking

walks out the door without even so much as a “Pick your clothes off the floor and lock the door when

you leave”??

Why was Jenna playing hard to get? Something was definitely a bit off there. Maybe she’s just protecting

her heart, because God knew, Bryce was a heartbreaker.

Trey knew Jenna loved his brother. The only person on the face of the earth who didn’t know was

Bryce.

Idiot.

For almost as long as Trey had known Jenna, he’d known that she was in love with Bryce. And, Trey

also knew, if Bryce wasn’t such a chickenshit, he’d admit that he loved her back. But Bryce was

screwed up. Bad breakups would do that to a guy. Trey stayed clear of anything more than one-night

stands, but this went beyond bad for Bryce. It clouded everything he saw, including Jenna. Which wasn’t

good. Because Trey wanted Bryce to be happy. And Jenna was the key to that happiness. But pushing

Bryce and playing matchmaker could only backfire.

Trey was going to have to be careful that his gentle nudge didn’t send them both into hot water.

And to make matters worse, Greenwood told me today that he won’t back me unless I get my rep back.

And the bastard is only giving me four weeks. FOUR WEEKS. How the hell is that supposed to work?

Trey had an idea, but Bryce would surely resist. Sitting back in his chair, Trey hit REPLY, and added

another bit to Bryce’s already cryptic subject line.I’m fucked became:

I’m fucked but can be saved by Project Jenna McCabe.

Yeah, Trey liked the sound of that, and it wasn’t something that Bryce was going to sense was a setup.

Hey, little brother, why not use this to your advantage? I mean, I told you that you need to be seen with a

plain Jane. Well, Jenna fits the bill. She’s hardly “hot girlfriend” material. She’s exactly the type you need

to be seen with to win back your fans. And just think— while you’re with her, you can have all the sex

you want. When your rep’s back and the sex is boring, you can drop her. See, no cooking with

blue-haired old ladies or working with kids, and all the sex you want. I mean, four weeks is a tight

deadline, even for you. So go with someone you already know. Jenna’s perfect for your needs.

The e-mail, Trey admitted, was pretty underhanded and more than a bit mean, but it was the way it had

to be. Bryce would dig his heels in if he thought Trey was suggesting anything other than a casual affair. If

he could just get Bryce to give Jenna a chance, though, to spend some time with her, he would realize

how good they were together.

Trey could even send one of his photographer buddies to snap their pics and get the images circulating in

a few magazines. That was a good step toward shedding Bryce’s playboy image. His fans would see

Bryce with a regular woman, not one who was stick-thin like his other lovers, and definitely not as

threatening. Jenna was a country girl, and all those housewives who worked so hard would feel that

Jenna was a kindred spirit once they saw her arm in arm with Bryce.

It was a win-win plan if he could get Bryce to go along with it. Except for one clinker. That nosy,

tight-ass sister of Jenna’s. If she found out about the plan, it’d be ruined. Especially if she discovered that

Trey had called Jenna a plain Jane and that he’d basically shoved Bryce into using her to get his

reputation back.

Knowing what he needed to do, he picked up his phone, not even wanting to contemplate how he was

able to dial the number from memory.

While it rang, his gaze strayed to the stack of black-and-white photographs that were on his desk. He

picked through them, looking for his favorite. He stared at the beautiful face, gave in to temptation and

traced the lips of the woman. The camera loved her, there was no denying.

On the fifth ring, a breathless feminine voice answered, jarring him out of his thoughts.

“Hello?”

“Sarah, it’s Trey.”

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There was a moment of silence, followed by an aggrieved sounding sigh. “What do you want?”

“The same thing you do, Jenna and Bryce together—forever.”

“Talk,” she said, perking up. “I’m listening.”

Jenna fumbled with her keys in the lock while she spoke to her colleague James. “Gabriella was cursing a

blue streak this morning when I talked to her. She was completely unglued, threatening to sue us for

breach of contract. We’ve got to do something about that botched presentation for the ad campaign. The

Giancomo design account is huge for us. We can’t ignore her concerns.”

James held his hand out for her key. “The concept was my mistake. I’ll rectify it. In fact, I’ve already

started on it. But maybe the hallway in your apartment building isn’t the place to discuss business.”

“I know,” Jenna said, flushing as she tried to put the key in the lock once more. “It’s just . . . I don’t want

to lose this account. It’s important to me.”

“I swear, I’ll clean up the fallout from my bad judgment, but first, give me the keys and let me open the

door for you. Obviously you’re too emotional right now.”

“I’m not emo—”

Her words died as the lock on the other side clicked and the door opened.

Jenna’s jaw dropped at the same time she heard James’ breath catch.Oh. My. God. Bryce was standing

there, shirtless, wearing a pair of sexier-than-hell faded jeans that were frayed around the waist.

She saw James glance up at the number on her door. 24. Yep, right apartment. Jenna swallowed

convulsively, struggling for the words, trying to find that inner vixen who could casually breeze in and

pretend like they hadn’t had sex last night.

“Hi, babe, you’re home early.”

Jenna caught the incredulous look on James’ face as Bryce greeted her and pulled her into the apartment.

He would have slammed the door in James’ face, too, if James hadn’t put out his hand, stopping it with

his palm.

“Come on in, James,” she said, trying to act like having a half-naked man in her apartment was no big

deal. “We can go over those files and your new ideas for the campaign before dinner.”

“Dinner?” Bryce asked as he cast a dark look between her and James.

“Yeah, Tyson canceled,” she said, throwing him an “I know you had something to do with that” look.

“So I invited James out for a business supper. I thought we’d eat at Cravings.”

Direct hit. Bryce’s gaze turned venomous at the mention of her eating at his precious restaurant with

another man.

“Well, yourbusiness dinner will have to wait till tomorrow night, because I’ve already got dinner on. I

made a pitcher of peach bellinis. Why don’t you get comfortable and I’ll bring you one while we’re

waiting for dinner to cook?”

What the hell was this? Bryce was acting like he had every right to be in her apartment. Hell, he was

acting like he had every right toher . Like he was her boyfriend, for crying out loud.

A little thrill shot through her at the thought. It was kind of nice, seeing his dark expression as he stared

James down. But then Jenna got a little perturbed.

Just who did he think he was? He could make claims on her, but she wasn’t allowed the same luxury?

She almost snorted knowing what Bryce’s response would be if she ever dared to question him about his

dinner dates. And frankly, the thought really pissed her off.

“Hey, it’s no problem with me, Jenna,” James said very gallantly, obviously sensing the turbulent

undercurrents in the room. “We can do dinner tomorrow night, or I can pick you up early in the morning

and we can go out for breakfast and talk.”

She saw Bryce’s eyes grow black and the tiniest thrill of victory washed over her, whisking away her

earlier peevishness. Could Bryce be feeling jealous of James? She shouldn’t be savoring the emotion, and

certainly didn’t want to put James in the middle of anything, but the knowledge that Bryce might be a little

threatened was the sweetest thing she’d ever felt.

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And it was about damn time, too. She had always been the one to feel envious, seeing Bryce with his

women. So this novelty was something she was going to savor, even though she knew it wasn’t very kind

to her coworker.

“I have an idea. Why don’t you stay for supper, James?” Jenna asked.

Bryce’s head snapped in her direction so fast she heard the bones in his neck crack. She smiled and

kicked off her heels. “Bryce always cooks more than enough. Don’t you?”

Bryce’s mouth moved, but no words came out.

James was suddenly looking highly uncomfortable. “Well, that is . . . ,” James said after he cleared his

throat. “Well, just as long as we’re not having seafood. I’m highly allergic.”

“Aw, that’s too bad, Jimmy,” Bryce drawled.

“That’s James.”

“Right, Jimmy. Well, that’s a bitch because I am dishing up seafood.”

“Oh, these steaks look so good,” Jenna purred as she lifted the lid of the indoor grill, inhaling the

succulent aromas of the rib eyes sizzling. She hid her smile as Bryce shot her a lethal glare.

“All right, steaks,” James said, smiling as he tossed his suit jacket onto the sofa. “I was feeling like steak.