LIAR LIAR (Sexy Southerners series) Read online

  Should have been, but wasn’t.

  Jess sighed and turned away from the view. Stan warned her that she’d never find someone else. Well, she would prove him wrong! Maybe she didn’t measure up for Mr. Right yet, but she sure could use a Mr. Right Now. Pinky just wasn’t enough. She needed more than a self-induced orgasm. She needed a hot blooded man who made her heart race and would still be there in the morning when she woke up. As long as it didn’t jeopardize her investigation, that is.

  A knock on the door brought her out of her reverie.

  Jess trotted over and flung open the heavy paneled door, expecting to see Seneca. Instead, a man--no, the man--turned and gave her a confident grin. She wanted to pinch herself to prove she wasn’t dreaming.

  The hunky male model from the LoveLines commercials.

  “Oh!” She took a startled step back and clunked her head on the doorjamb. “It’s you!” She rubbed the sore spot rising on her scalp.

  He inclined his head. “Huh?” He had a nice voice, neither deep nor husky, but nice.

  “The guy from the commercials. Navy swim trunks, right?” Jess forced her eyes back into their sockets. Up close, Navy Swimtrunk Man was even more breathtaking than the scenery. LoveLines sure knew how to pick them. If she hadn’t been so startled, she’d have been too nervous to speak.

  “Oh! Right, ri-i-i-ight.” He dragged the vowel sounds like a red-blooded American surfer. “I get that a lot. I was told to grab you for our group session. You want to…uh…?” He nodded towards the restaurant area. “Everyone’s back there.”

  Jess blinked twice. “Sure. Let me grab my room key.”

  She grabbed her keycard and followed him, somewhat in a daze, to where a group of fourteen other people lounged in various pairs in a cozily lit area. Jess suddenly realized she had nothing to take notes with. She suppressed a groan and scanned the room. A cocktail napkin? A beer label? Anything would do in a pinch. An impressive bar was arranged to one side. She snagged a napkin and ordered a soda water with lime. Seneca gave her a half wave from the front of the room and several of the women cast her envious glances as she and hunky man settled at a café table.

  “Uh, what was your name again?” Hunky Man asked, while scouting the room over her shoulder.

  “Jessica. You can call me Jess.” She did her best to focus, pretend she was part of the group of happy hopefuls.

  “Right, ri-i-i-ight. I’m Alan.” He shook her hand limply.

  Whoa, strikes one and two. Alan seemed to have limited vocabulary and a weak grip. His handshake better be the only thing that’s flaccid. Jess compressed her lips and swiped her hands on her jeans before Seneca began the introductions.

  As Seneca described the program, Jess scanned the female competition. Three blondes and four women with various shades of brunette. She was the only redhead. Interesting. All of the men seemed in good shape physically, although it was hard to see into the darker corners of the lounge. Some, including Alan, were better than good. Jess glanced around the room. A literal buffet of men, all potential matches with her profile. Her breathing quickened.

  Alan gave her a smoldering look and she waited for her hands to turn icy, a sure sign she was heading for an anxiety attack. Nothing. She wiggled her fingertips just to be sure. Alan looked perplexed.

  “Uh, cheers.” She lifted her water glass the moment a waiter set it in front of her.

  “Bottoms up.” Alan winked.

  She had to be crazy. Here she was with what should be her ultimate fantasy man…she should be in heaven. So why did she feel…indifferent?

  Jess swallowed hard and scanned the lounge again. There didn’t appear to be an outright dud in the waiting prospects, but she’d learned long ago that appearances could be deceiving. Her heart skipped a beat when she saw Mr. Hot Fudge from the fireplace seated near the back. So, he was a client! Jess had already seen Alan with his shirt off during the commercial. Looked like this guy could give him a run for his money. And the fact that he was her potential match set her nerves on high alert. He stared at her for a long moment before switching his attention back to his female companion. Jess felt her fingers start to numb. She rolled her neck, trying to loosen some tension as Seneca continued.

  “Although there aren’t any scripted activities, we would like to begin this week with a speed dating session to get you all introduced. Please, turn to your table partners. When you hear the bell, the ladies will rotate to the next table to your right.” Seneca waved her hands at a few chivalrous protests. “I know, I know, but it’s to our ladies advantage to show off their best assets, don’t you think?”

  Jess laughed along with most of the crowd. Thank heavens for those workouts.

  “Continue circulating until you’ve had a chance to meet everyone and then we’ll wrap up.” Seneca checked her watch. “Everyone ready?” She flicked her wrist and the brass bell in her hand jingled.

  Jess forced herself to smile at Alan. C’mon, pull it together. She hated these things. The conversations were so awkward, especially when her partners found out she investigated liars for a living.

  Alan gave her an insolent grin as the chatter in the lounge rose to an excited hum. She racked her brain for something to say…something other than commenting on his incredible good looks.

  “It looks as if a storm might roll in tonight,” she ventured, wanting to sink under the table. Brilliant. Totally the wrong thing to say. No one would ever believe she’d graduated summa cum laude. A sudden wave of panic engulfed her. Her stomach twisted into knots as she shredded the paper napkin on the cocktail table. She forced herself to remain calm. Napkin, note taking…where was her pen?

  "Right, ri-i-i-ight. The clouds are, like, awesome here." An agonizing moment of silence followed. Alan nodded. “Like, really awesome.”

  “Uh-huh. Awesome.” Jess parroted, wanting to hide under her napkin shreds. This was going so badly! “So, uh…what do you think about the program?” If only she’d thought to bring a mini-recorder with her!

  Alan’s gaze flickered toward one of the large picture windows and back to her. His smile faded. “This is crap. We should take off somewhere just the two of us. My room isn’t too far away. Yours is even closer. What do you say?” Alan leaned back in the chair and licked his lips. “We know each other already, eh?” He winked.

  Her jerk-o-meter went bonkers.

  Jess arched a brow. They were supposed to be getting acquainted, but Alan was cruising right to the finish line. She could appreciate a man who knew his way around women, but she hated overly confident men who relied on charm to get into a girl’s pants. Been there, married that.

  She crossed her arms. “Do we?” He did nothing to encourage her interest, and this kind of testimony wasn’t going to help her client’s case at all.

  “Sure, we do. You’re Jess, right?” He sat back and laced his fingers behind his head. He couldn’t have looked more full of himself if he’d worn a paisley silk robe with a couple of vacuous females draped over his shoulders.

  She couldn’t help herself. “Ri-i-i-ight.” Her lips twitched into a smile. “So, what do you like to do, Alan?” Besides prance half naked on a beach, she finished in her head. “Do you have any hobbies?” Give me something to work with, here! She hated to give up her fantasy so easily, but Alan wasn’t making it any harder for her.

  He shifted in his seat. His lazy confidence was gone, and he looked uncomfortable now that his super seduction had gone over like a cherry bomb in a church bathroom. “Uh, I don’t know. I mean, I like working out and stuff. I guess this internet thing is okay.” His eyes darted to the other couples. “What about you? You look good. You like a good work out?” He flashed another sexy smile. “I bet we could work up a good sweat.” He reached for her hand.

  She jerked her hands off the table top and into her lap.

  “Sorry, Alan.” Jess watched as Seneca ticked off the last few seconds and raised her hand to sound the bell. “Strike Three.” She didn’t even have time to bem
oan the death of her fantasy before the bell signaled the next rotation. With her cheeks flaming, Jess stood and gathered her keycard and her water glass. At this point in her life, she wanted a little more than an adolescent tumble with a self-centered jerk. She wanted a man with substance.

  Or at least a good sound bite for court testimony.

  As she moved to the next waiting prospect, she watched the other couples part, some unwillingly, to change partners. Her gaze darted to Mr. Hot Fudge, and her stomach knotted again. He was staring right at her with a slight frown. Jess felt her cheeks heat, along with a few areas south of her belt buckle. That man made her toes curl right in the tips of her high heeled boots. She forced herself to look away from him and stumbled to the next waiting table.

  Focus, she reminded herself for the umpteenth time. It was getting harder and harder to do.

  Forget taking the plunge into dating, she needed to at least dip a toe in the water or she couldn’t call her subscription legit. She’d just converted her free trial account to paid account—thanks to the expense account at work. The LoveLines guarantee only applied to paid accounts with a record of positive interactions…something about demonstrating sincerity in wanting to find a partner. And Suze told her she needed to find some middle ground.

  But with Mr. Hot Fudge staring at her like he wanted to eat her, Jess hovered at the next table to her right, unsure of how to begin.

  “Good afternoon. Rex Stanton.” A well-dressed businessman stood and gave her a polite smile. He gave her a brief handshake. “Of Stanton Industries. Petroleum and natural gas.” Rex was lanky and clad in a well-cut charcoal suit and silk brocade tie.

  He was tall. That was a plus. His light brown hair was neatly trimmed above the ears.

  “Jess Barlow.” She shook his hand and sank into her seat. He waited until she was seated before settling back into his own chair. Polite, Jess thought. Another plus.

  Still, he didn’t make her panties wet just looking at her.

  “What do you do, Ms. Barlow?” Rex steepled his fingers together and gave her an intent appraising glance.

  Jess smiled. His response would speak volumes. “I’m a C.F.E. A Certified Fraud Examiner.” She paused, gauging his reaction.

  “Mhmm.” Rex didn’t blink. “Tell me more.”

  “I investigate white collar crimes and provide litigation support, mostly for fraud. You could say I specialize in catching liars.” Jess recited her well-rehearsed spiel, the same one she used when soliciting new clients. Rex listened politely, asking appropriate questions and nodding encouragement. His calm demeanor made it easy to slip into work mode, which soothed her jangled nerves.

  “Interesting choice of profession,” he remarked.

  “I have a knack,” Jess replied, tapping her fingernails on the table. “Contracts are usually pretty straightforward for me. No real surprises, no blurring the lines.”

  “I see,” Stanton inclined his head.

  “Sometimes being a bit conservative is an asset.” She smiled. “You’re a good listener.”

  “Is that important to you?” Rex asked.

  “I like a man that knows when to stop talking. And when to start.” She glanced at Seneca, still marking time on her watch. “What about you? What do you think of LoveLines?”

  “Questions, questions…. Is LoveLines under investigation?” he asked, with a wry smile.

  Jess faked a laugh. Inside, her stomach knotted. “Would I have admitted I was a fraud examiner if I was investigating?” she swept her hand around the room of chatting singles. God, was she that obvious? “I’m here to learn more about you.” She gave him her best encouraging smile.

  Rex leaned back in his chair, shifting from active listener to corporate president. “Me? Not much to tell. Started my business when I was thirty-two. Went public three years later. The rest is history.”

  Not a peep about his personal history? Typical suit. More interested in what she could do for his bottom line, than her actual bottom. Was he the type who matched her profile? Jess bit her lip. LoveLines had it all wrong. Even Pinky had more personality. She had a fleeting image of screwing Rex Stanton with a bag over his head and choked back a snort.

  “This isn’t a job interview, Mr. Stanton,” she chided, trying to recover her composure.

  Rex laughed, a soft, dry sound. “In my line of work, everything is business.”

  It was a good reminder. She should stop worrying about impressing the prospects and start digging for evidence. “So, how’s the LoveLines program working out for you?” she asked.

  “Time!” Seneca called and rang the bell.

  “It was a genuine pleasure, Ms. Barlow. Here’s my card.” Rex slid an ivory embossed card across the table.

  “Great.” Jess stood, slipping it absently into her pocket. “See you later.”

  “I certainly hope so.” Rex stood as she left the table.

  Well, Rex was nice. No overt faults…just nice. Vanilla, Suze would call him. Definitely not double hot fudge. A little absorbed in his work, but most entrepreneurs were. Still, she couldn’t picture spending time with him outside of casual contact. In fact, she wasn’t sure she wanted even that. Rex Stanton’s polite attitude enticed her into work mode.

  Her temples throbbed and her heart started pounding in a way that had nothing to do with the men in the room. What was the matter with her? Hadn’t she always said she wanted a ‘nice’ guy? She eight hunks hand-selected from a psychological profiling program, guaranteed to be compatible and all she wanted to do was go back to her room and crawl into bed. Alone.

  This was turning into a disaster. She turned to the next table, barely meeting the eyes of her next intended prospect. One peep from under her lashes told her it was him. Tall, dark and hottie. Mr. Hot Fudge, who her made her knees weak just looking at her. The kind of man who looked more than promising but who would ultimately end up just like the rest—lying or leaving. Or both. Her palms started to slick. Who was she kidding? She wasn’t ready for this, investigation or no.

  “Everyone ready?” Seneca beamed at her watch face.

  Mr. Hot Fudge stared at her with a faint smile.

  Her heart clenched. “I-I’m sorry,” Jess apologized. “I’m really not into this kind of thing. I…uh….” Her heart started racing. The room started to go fuzzy around the edges. Breath choked off. Pain blossomed in her chest and she felt the beginnings of a panic attack siphon her remaining courage. She couldn’t do this.

  He stood up and pulled out her chair for her in an endearingly sweet gesture.

  Jess’ hands went completely numb. “I….” She just couldn’t. “Excuse me.”

  The room erupted in happy chatter.

  She couldn’t breathe.

  Jess bolted for the lobby. Seneca’s startled face flashed before her as she scrambled from the lounge of wannabee lovers. Surprised exclamations and scraping chairs sounded behind her and then Jess was shoving at the lodge’s front doors and racing down the gravel path to the large pond. Her stupid, trendy boot heels sunk into the soft earth as she sped toward the water’s edge, willing herself and her tears not to fall.

  ***

  Matteo had waited impatiently for his first real glimpse of Jessica at a prime viewing spot, all prearranged with his sister, of course. The other singles had shown up exactly as planned. Then, when Matteo was safely ensconced at a table with a vacuous female who was more into herself than anyone in the room, he’d signaled Seneca to send for her.

  When Jessica entered the room behind Alan, he’d wanted to smash his fist into the male model’s self-assured grin and haul Jessica to someplace private. She was radiant. Breathtakingly beautiful in a subtle way that lured him like a fire ant to a sugar cube. Her auburn hair was arranged in a soft waves and she wore a pair of boot cut jeans that clung to every curve. Matteo whistled softly through his teeth. Her photo and tapes hadn’t done her justice. Seneca shot him a worried glance from across the room.

  Matteo gave himself a menta
l shake.

  At the very most, Jessica was here for someone else in the program, he reminded himself. At the very least, she was out to destroy his carefully crafted dreams. This was about his professional reputation, not his libido. He’d make sure she found a match or play the part himself, if necessary, but that was it.

  No personal involvement. That was his motto.

  He shifted in his seat, stifling the urge to drag her somewhere where he could strip off her jeans and boots and trace the delicate curves of her body with his tongue. His visceral reaction to her presence was unexpected and more than a little disturbing, especially given the way she’d snubbed him in the lobby. She was some kind of puzzle. One he’d like to figure out, piece by pretty piece.

  He’d watched her during Seneca’s speech. Despite Alan’s incredible looks, Jessica didn’t seem interested. She seemed agitated. Not a good sign. During the first round, their tension was palpable. Alan looked like a scolded puppy caught nosing in the trash. And Jessica? Her expressive hazel eyes fluctuated from uncertainty to irritation. In the second session, Stanton had no impact either, with his cold air of corporate command. Matteo had wondered how a man like Stanton would affect a savvy white collar crime investigator like Jessica, but once again, she seemed less than enthusiastic. Things couldn’t have been worse.

  Until it was his turn.

  When she bolted from his table without so much as a second glance, Matteo felt his heart plummet to the floor. A guy like him could have his pick of women. Could and did.

  Had he misjudged her? Her program profile identified her as a woman who needed encouragement to completely open herself to others. She wasn’t going to be an easy target, but Matteo hadn’t expected her to run off. Not from him.

  Not unless she had something to hide.

  It was a risk he couldn’t afford to take. He gave Seneca a brief explanation and headed after Jessica’s trim figure, praying he was making the right decision. The air smelled of rain, moist and crisp at the same time, like a bracing shot of whiskey. Heavy gray clouds formed over the mountain range, visible in the distance. He caught up to her at the edge of the pond. The mounting breeze whipped her curls into a frenzied tangle around her face as she whirled to face him.