Sizzle in the City by Wendy Etherington

situation.
    “Should I bring the cookies Tuesday?” she asked.
    “How about right after you deliver Mario’s? Then they’ll be dessert after I take you to a great steak house. Have you ever eaten at Palo’s?”
    She had—once. Victoria had treated her and Calla after Victoria had landed an important client but lost her latest lover because she’d spent so much time wooing the big client.
    Shelby, however, couldn’t afford to order so much as a salad there at the moment. Her stomach clenched. Was she using him again? Had her dip into spying, eavesdropping and vindictiveness already shifted her morals?
    No, she decided quickly. Not yet anyway. She’d go to dinner with Trevor if they ate at a hot-dog stand on the street corner. And surely she could keep her personal relationship with him separate from her revenge quest. The subject of Max would be off-limits. Easy as pie.
    “I’d love to have dinner Tuesday,” she said. “Especially at Palo’s.”
    He brushed his lips over hers, like a whisper…or a promise. “So date number two is secured even before the end of date number one? And here I thought my previous kissing technique would hamper me.”
    “Your technique is fine.”
    “Just fine?”
    “You kissing me didn’t aggravate me at the time—only later, after I found out who you were.”
    “But the Banfield men have established a reputation for charm. My great-grandfather had a constant stream of mistresses, supposedly reaching double digits, and my grandfather had four wives. My father’s broken the mold by staying single since he and my mother divorced, but it’s early days yet. He’s not yet sixty.”
    She raised her eyebrows. “How many do you intend to have?”
    “One. But then I’m exceedingly picky. Much like you with whom you allow to kiss you.”
    “Sorry to be difficult. There are a lot of players in this city—and not only the kind in sports.”
    His gaze searched her face. “You think I’m playing you?”
    No. Um, probably not. Besides, in light of her current agenda, she could hardly demand full disclosure from him. “Maybe we should try it again. The kissing, I mean, just to see if last night was a fluke.”
    “I look forward to the challenge.”
    The desire and promise in his beautiful blue eyes made her dizzy with heat. Why me? she nearly asked. He could have anyone—and probably had. Given his secrecy the night before, she wondered if she was trusting too easily and falling too quickly.
    Yet logic dictated an unarguable fact—if Max had sent his brother out to romance women for his latest scheme, most notably the mysterious investors’ meeting, he would have certainly picked Victoria. The suit she’d been wearing during the party had been Chanel, and a man as sophisticated as Trevor could certainly spot that kind of quality next to Shelby’s serviceable black pants she’d bought on sale at The Gap.
    Maybe he simply had a thing for redheads.
    Regardless, she needed to stop overthinking every move and enjoy herself. She couldn’t possibly hold Nearly Royal Trevor’s interest for long.
    The waitress arrived and cleared their plates, suggesting Mario’s coveted tiramisu for dessert, which they agreed to share.
    When they were alone again, Trevor slid his hand down Shelby’s back in a casual gesture that suggested he’d done it a million times before. He was clearly a tactile kind of person, reminding her of men in her native Georgia. The idea comforted, as she’d gotten used to more reserved New Yorkers. She’d learned years ago not to hug people unexpectedly the way everyone did down South.
    “I was serious last night at Max’s party, by the way,” he said.
    Max’s name had her fighting a jolt.
    Okay, so maybe not easy as pie, separating revenge and romance. It might be more like soufflé—lots of broken eggs and fervent prayers that the finished product wouldn’t collapse.
    Stalling, she sipped her wine. “Really? About what?”
    “The dinner party I’d