Swept Away. Dawn Atkins

Candy spoke in unison. “Oh, yes you are.”

      Sara groaned.

      Meanwhile, Candy caught sight of Matt heading for the door. At the last second, he glanced back, straight at her, as though he’d felt her stare.

      She wiggled her fingers like a moony girl, disgusted with herself. Matt nodded, a funny expression on his face. Was he picturing her in her thong? The thought made her face flame so hot she bet she could stop traffic.

      She returned her attention to her friends, fighting for focus. Now where was she? Oh, yeah. “You think I can work at the beach?” A working vacation was so not her. And at the beach of all places. That would be downright torture.

      “Work hard, play hard. That’s your philosophy, right?” Ellie said. “Prove it. Do both.”

      Could she? She wanted to believe she could. When she’d joked in the break room about how wrong her PQ2 results were, she’d been mortified to notice that no one laughed along. They agreed with the test! And that hurt. It reminded her how her high-achieving family treated her—like a lost soul, a child whom no one took seriously. She hated that. She was determined this promotion would make her family see her through new eyes.

      “You’ll be away from the office, alone together. Just you and Matt and all that…work.” Ellie waggled her brows.

      Despite Ellie’s ulterior motive, the idea had merit. Away from SyncUp, she and Matt could connect. Professionally, of course. She was better face-to-face anyway. And she had that proposal she’d been working up that she could show him.

      She looked into her friends’ hopeful faces. How could she let them down? Ellie needed me-time and Sara needed a break from indentured servitude. Someone had to make sure they got it. And what did Candy need?

      Matt’s respect. And maybe more confidence in her own abilities. Maybe this was just the way to get it.

      “Okay,” she said finally. “I’m back in.”

      “Whew!” Sara lifted her latte in a toast. “Here’s to a week of fun, sun and men in Speedos.”

      “And work,” Candy added. “Fun, sun, men in Speedos and work.” The word was a sour note in the song of the moment, but at least she’d be with her friends.

      “I have a good feeling about this trip,” Ellie said. “I think it will change our lives.”

      Candy had a feeling, too. A funny, nervous one that had to do with seeing Matt in swim trunks. She made a mental note to keep her feet on the ground and her underwear covered.

      1

      “HOW DID YOU EVER TALK me into this?” Candy asked Ellie as they crossed the last few yards to Matt’s beach house. “Mixing work and play is like chasing a tequila shot with a piña colada—guaranteed puke-fest.”

      “Trust me,” Ellie said. “It’ll be fine.”

      “And this thing weighs a ton.” She shifted the antique laptop she’d borrowed from the SyncUp IT department to her other shoulder and wiggled her toes in her sandals to relieve the irritation of grinding sand. The beach was meant for bare feet, not shoes, for God’s sake.

      “You should have swiped Sara’s computer so she’d have no excuse not to be in a bikini this minute,” Ellie said.

      “I can’t believe she sneaked that little printer into her bag.”

      “Fighting your nature is not easy,” Ellie said.

      “No kidding.” That was as clear to Candy as the Malibu sky overhead, where no cloud troubled the bright blue expanse. Her whole body ached to toss this computer onto the nearest porch, grab a tiki drink and frolic in the foam.

      “This will work,” Ellie said again, squeezing Candy’s upper arm. “I know it will.”

      Candy blinked against the sunlight glancing off the sparkling water. It was all so tempting—the gently swooshing waves, the kids shrieking as they dashed into the water, the spectacular hunks jogging by—tan and muscular and ready to play.

      But this was no time for Candy’s inner girl-gone-wild to lift her pale face to the sun. She had a mission, dammit, and her future at SyncUp hung in the balance.

      On the other hand, she’d worn her yellow bikini beneath the white capris and white blouse she’d knotted at her waist, and her straw beach bag held a towel, sunscreen and flip-flops—just in case she squeezed in some beach time. She was prepared to seize whatever pleasure she could out of this trip.

      She fished her cell phone out of the tight pocket of her capris to be sure it was on loud ring. Sara was due to fake a work call after they reached Matt’s place.

      A big dog wearing a red bandanna galloped up and snuffled Candy’s hand, then back-stepped away, inviting her to toss something—her phone?

      “Wish I could, Bucko,” she said, “but I need it.”

      With a little yelp, the dog galloped off in search of someone who understood what the beach was for. Candy sighed. Maybe later she’d catch up with the cheerful guy. For now, she stood at the bottom of Matt’s stairs.

      “Ready to dazzle my brother with your work ethic?” Ellie asked.

      Candy rubbed the top of her nose. “Yep. All raw from the grindstone.”

      “Showtime, then.” Ellie started upward.

      Candy grabbed her arm. “No ad-libbing, now. No hints, no winks, no nudges. Matt and I will never be a notch on your matchmaker’s belt.”

      “Whatever you say.” Ellie’s cheerful concession was too easy, Candy knew, vowing to watch her friend closely.

      Ellie bounded up the stairs and Candy followed, her heart pounding as loudly in her ears as Ellie’s knock.

      When Matt opened the door, Candy’s heart took a header into her stomach. The way it had before that mortifying kiss gone wrong, when she’d landed on her back—legs in the air, tiger thong on display, dignity out the window.

      “Hello,” Matt said to Ellie, then caught sight of her. “And Candy?” His eyes grabbed her, a piercing blue, even through his glasses. When Matt looked at her, he really looked. As though she were a tangled computer code he must decipher or die.

      Read me, baby, she wanted to say. Read me all night long.

      His intense focus appealed to her. Also, his calm restraint, beneath which he was probably hotter than hot. Like the mild-mannered alter ego of the all-powerful man of steel.

      Steel…hmm. The thought of his steeliest part made her insides melt like a frozen daiquiri in the sun.

      Stop that. Work, not play.

      “In the flesh,” she said. Flesh? Did you have to say flesh? She rushed on. “When Ellie told me you’d be here, I was relieved someone would understand how to work on vacation.” She patted the laptop. Something tinkled and dropped inside the bag. Nothing vital, she hoped.

      “You’re working? On vacation?” The emphasis on you’re wounded her, but Matt blinked. He didn’t seem to have intended to insult her. She knew him to be a straightforward guy who stuck to the facts. He wasn’t into the nuances of diplomacy.

      “I practically had to drag her here,” Ellie said. “She wanted to cancel because of her project.”

      “What project?” He gave Candy another shot of his blue zingers.

      “I’m working on something for Ledger Lite.” The accounting software was one of SyncUp’s bread-and-butter products. Version 2.0 was set for beta testing and she’d had a great idea she hoped would impress him. “Would you consider taking a look at what I’ve got?”

      His eyes dipped to her breasts, then up, as if she’d invited him to peek at her attributes. Heat rushed through her, but she rattled