One Blazing Night. Jo Leigh

and she couldn’t fault his logic. Especially when she considered that Matt wouldn’t care what she wore.

      She shouldn’t have cared, either. But she had the feeling Matt would look spiffy and handsome as hell and she hadn’t wanted to— Something caught her eye at the window. Oh, God. Matt. He was here. Getting out of a taxi—

      Not a town car. Most of his family lived here. Their corporate office was located downtown. She hadn’t expected a taxi.

      Or for her reaction to be this bad.

      How had her mouth already dried up? Her heart had been pounding since she’d seen him in her peripheral vision. For heaven’s sake, butterflies and panic were battling to the death in her chest. Why hadn’t she just let Clark give him the damn key?

      Matt was taking his time. Checking out the brownstones that lined the street before taking the shady brick walkway that led to the apartment. He looked like her Matt, but different, too. Broader of chest, certainly. He seemed taller, but she doubted that was true. Maybe his black jeans and gray V-neck sweater made him appear taller than the six foot one she knew he was. His jacket was dark, maybe suede, and looked as if it would be nice to curl up against.

      Not that she would be curling up against anyone.

      Even his luggage looked sharp. And—wow—he’d brought a lot. An extra-large suitcase on wheels and a brown garment bag. Was he planning to stay until winter?

      Just as he was reaching the front door, she realized she’d been squeezing the key so hard it had left a deep groove in her hand. The hand he’d want to shake. No, he’d want a hug.

      She hadn’t considered—

      The sound of the doorbell made her jump. Oh, this was going to be a load of fun. Why was she stressing so much? This was Matt. They were practically brother and sister. Except for that one time... Shit. Why did she have to think of that?

      She needed to concentrate on breathing. And trying not to pass out. After a long, deep breath, she squared her shoulders and opened the door.

      Holy crap. Matt’s brown eyes and perfectly shaped mouth were the same, yet he was so much better-looking than she’d remembered. A man now, not a boy. And the smile he gave her sent shivers through her body. She knew that grin. It changed his face. He could look really serious and foreboding if he wanted to, but when he whipped out that grin, he became a tease, a wink, a promise.

      “Wow,” he said, his voice lower, maybe not. “You look great.”

      “Me?” She pointed at him. “You—”

      “Look the same, just old.” He paused, waited. “Mind if I come in?”

      “Of course.” She quickly stood aside. And she wasn’t disappointed that there’d been no hug. Hugs were overdone. They hadn’t seen each other for years. She closed the door, focusing on the image of his smile, even as she understood it would haunt her dreams for ages.

      * * *

      MATT LEFT HIS LUGGAGE off to the side and watched Sam turn in her Comic-Con shirt, with her copper-colored hair shifting over her shoulders. She was a woman now, beautifully sculpted with curves that hadn’t been there when he’d last seen her. But that shirt? That was pure Sammy.

      He couldn’t get over it. The pictures online hadn’t done her justice at all. She didn’t have prom-queen beauty—that wasn’t Sam. She could stand to put on a couple of pounds and her smile was a little crooked, but she had amazing green eyes that lit up like firecrackers. Standing there in front of him was everything he’d always liked about Sammy, with the addition of womanly grace that only time and experience could bring.

      He couldn’t wait another moment. “Come here,” he said, holding his arms out, taking the first step.

      A blush stole over her cheeks but she came willingly, and then she was in his arms. A second later, hers went around his waist, under his jacket.

      It wasn’t the MIT hug he was used to.

      They’d never pressed this close, never hung on for beat after beat of his quickening heart. Damn, she smelled good.

      He pulled back. She released him instantly, but he wasn’t quite ready to abandon ship. He held on to her shoulders and gave her a head-to-toe inspection.

      “Logan was right. You’ve turned into a stunner.”

      Her brows, a little darker than her hair, came together as she frowned and took a half step back. “You don’t have to say that stuff to me, Matt. I don’t need to be flattered.”

      “You think I wasn’t being sincere?”

      “No. I mean, I know I’m okay. But I’m not— I’m in shape because I think better when I’m running. It’s not about...anything else.”

      “I’m glad you’re fit, but I wasn’t lying. I think you’re beautiful, and that’s just the truth.”

      “Okay,” she said as the blush darkened. “That’s fair enough. I think you’re beautiful, too.”

      He laughed. “I think the word you were looking for was handsome? I hope?”

      “Fine. Handsome. Hot as hell. Drop-dead gorgeous. Mouthwatering—”

      “Okay. That’s enough.” Matt laughed, mostly at himself. How could he have forgotten her quirky tendency to drive them all nuts with the thesaurus in her brain. “Hey,” he said, giving her another once-over. “You’re taller. By a lot. When did that happen?”

      Sam looked confused and then dropped her gaze to her toes, peeking out from under the hem of her slacks. “I’m wearing heels,” she said and then lifted her right leg to show him the proof. “Anyway...” She stuck out her hand. The key rested in her palm. “Here’s the key.”

      Matt accepted it, wondering why she suddenly seemed so nervous.

      She moved back and turned in a jerky motion. “This is it,” she said, gesturing widely. “It’s still a prototype. I’m working out the kinks.” She took off walking down the hall and he lagged a few seconds behind until she reached the junction of kitchen and living room. “The fridge and pantry are fully stocked. Feel free to use or consume anything.”

      She picked up some brochure from the kitchen counter. “You’ll find everything you need in here, including chefs who will come here to cook or have something made-to-order delivered. The masseur is terrific, especially his sports massage. I know you know Boston, but there are a bunch of delivery menus by the pantry. And if you have any problems or questions—”

      “You’ve used this masseur?”

      “What?” Sam frowned. “Of course not.”

      “You said he was terrific.”

      “I could find out which doctor you should use if you had an enlarged prostate. It doesn’t mean I have personal experience.”

      Matt let out a laugh. He’d missed this. She never had thought like everyone else. Thank goodness that hadn’t changed. “Point taken.”

      “As I was saying, if you have any questions, just call the office. Clark knows this place inside and out.”

      Confused, he looked down at the brochure she’d shoved into his hand. When he lifted his gaze again, he realized she was about to leave. Three steps away, he nabbed her wrist. “What? Where are you going? I want you to show me around, not give me some brochure.”

      “I should get back to work,” she said. “Besides, Rick and Logan didn’t need me to hold their hands, and they did fine.”

      “Tough. They didn’t have to beg for an invitation, either. So now, Sammy, my friend, you get to show me where I’ll be staying for the next few days.”

      She glanced over her shoulder. “You have a lot of luggage for a few days.”

      “You