Turning Up The Heat. Tanya Michaels

polite one he forced himself to use with important food critics he didn’t like, but anger edged his tone.

      “Phoebe isn’t technically my date,” Heath said. “I’m just grateful I ran into her. You never know where a chance encounter might lead.” He looked at her when he said it, his tone meaningful.

      Her breath hitched before sanity caught up to her. Heath was deliberately baiting his own business partner, making Cam think there was something between them. Why would he do that? The two men were planning to open a second restaurant together, and that process would run a lot smoother without any manufactured tension between them.

      Cam looked startled by Heath’s insinuation. “I, ah...” His gaze went to Phoebe, searching, and she tried to look cheerful, not at all like she’d rather be home in yoga pants than facing her ex. Then his date cleared her throat. “Oh! Allow me to introduce you to Donna Moore.”

      “Dana,” the blonde snapped, her eyes narrowing in displeasure.

      “Dana. Of course. That’s what I meant to say. Dana, this is Heath and Phoebe.”

      “Charmed.” If her tone was any icier, they could use it to make frozen drinks.

      “How about we, uh, go wish Bobbi a happy birthday?” Cam suggested, steering his date away. As they merged into the crowd, he cast one final glance over his shoulder.

      At me. Phoebe fought a grin at the surprising knowledge that he was jealous. As the executive chef of a noted restaurant, Cam was often in the spotlight, giving interviews and emerging from the kitchen to greet special customers. She’d been so proud of him, content to bake her desserts and watch him soak up the accolades. But it was a refreshing change to be the one getting a little attention.

      Belatedly, she recalled Heath’s words before his mouth claimed hers. I have a plan. Understanding dawned. “You kissed me to make him jealous.”

      “Hope you don’t think that’s too petty or juvenile.”

      “Actually...” She recalled the times Cam had praised her as his muse and led her to believe marriage was in their distant future, contrasting those moments with the brutal shock of his announcement that they were “stifling” each other. He hadn’t even had the balls to make a clean break. Instead, he’d suggested they still go out occasionally—which she’d translated as code for wanting a backup sexual partner on the nights nothing better came along. Hell, no. “That was awesome.”

      She just wished she’d realized sooner that Heath’s kiss was only playacting. As she recalled the greedy way she’d clutched at him and how her toes had curled inside Gwen’s borrowed stilettos, embarrassment rippled through her. Way to come on like a sex-starved hussy. She deeply regretted the loss of the martini she’d left behind.

      “Thank you,” she told him. “But you didn’t have to do that.”

      “Kissing a beautiful woman is no hardship.”

      Heath thinks I’m beautiful. There was a momentary flush of giddiness before she reminded herself that he was a connoisseur of women. He appreciated many forms and shapes, the way she could savor dozens of desserts from around the world without ever picking a favorite. How many countless women had she heard him call “sweetheart” or “gorgeous”? His compliment, though flattering, wasn’t personal.

      “Besides,” he added, frowning in Cam’s direction, “the big jerk had it coming. You were the best thing that ever happened to him.”

      “That’s what Gwen said, too.” She was blessed to have such loyal friends, even ones who inexplicably disliked each other. The day Cam had broken up with her, Gwen had partially blamed Heath.

      “That business partner makes single life look so glamorous, with his endless parade of women,” her friend had said. “Cam got so distracted by what he can’t have that he took you for granted.” Phoebe didn’t fault Heath, but the “grass is greener” explanation made as much sense as anything else. She’d thought they were happy.

      “He is going to regret losing you,” Heath said. “If he thinks you’ve found someone, it might speed up his epiphany.”

      Found someone? As in, an actual relationship and not just a quick kiss at a party? “You aren’t suggesting we make him think that you and I are dating?”

      “That’s exactly what I’m suggesting.”

      She laughed nervously. “No offense, but who would buy that? You’re never seen with the same woman twice.” Oddly, few of his ex-lovers seemed bitter. Most continued to smile and sigh when they saw him. He must be really good in bed. She felt wicked, secretly speculating on his sexual performance while he stood there giving her relationship advice.

      The corner of Heath’s mouth curled in a half grin that made her immediately reevaluate her last thought. This man could teach a master’s class in wickedness. Next to him, she was a total novice.

      “Why stop at making him think we’re ‘dating’?” he asked. “You want to really get under his skin, let him think we’re having a scorching affair hotter than an Atlanta heat wave. As for no one believing us...” His gaze arrested hers, and he shifted closer. She could almost feel the hard planes of his body through the fabric of her dress. “You’d be surprised at how convincing I can be.”

      Oh, Lord, did she need a drink. Not her martini—ice water. Her throat had gone dry, and the crowded room was stifling. “I don’t know.”

      Though she didn’t doubt Heath’s persuasive skills, she herself was a terrible liar. And she was still sorting through the aftermath of her breakup. Did she want to win back Cam’s affection? She was furious with him, but there were good memories and years of emotional investment. Either way, her feminine pride had taken a hit when he’d dumped her. Having Heath look at her as if he wanted to lick dark chocolate ganache off her bare skin was heady, yet confusing.

      He rocked back on his heels, symbolically restoring the platonic distance between them. “Completely up to you,” he said. “Think about it, and we’ll talk soon. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I should flee. There’s a Kemp sister heading this way.”

      She chuckled, but he raised an interesting point about other women. “Heath, if people think you and I are a couple, won’t it hinder your love life?”

      “Sacrifice I’m willing to make.” He grinned. “Temporarily. I’ve actually been swamped with work stuff recently and had to reschedule my last two attempted dates. So contrary to my suave reputation, I can go a couple of weeks without a woman on my arm.”

      “Still, it seems pretty one-sided, me using you to make Cam jealous.”

      “I’m at your disposal. Use me any way you want.”

      It was the kind of outrageously flirtatious comment he routinely made. She knew better than to read anything serious into it. He’s a buddy, she reminded herself. He’s not genuinely propositioning you.

      Yeah, she knew that. Intellectually. But the reminder would have been a lot more convincing without the memory of that scalding kiss still buzzing through her system.

      * * *

      “WHAT DO YOU mean Heath kissed you last night?” Gwen went from lazily lounging on the sofa to bolt upright and hyperalert—or as alert as one could look with bed head and flying toaster pajamas. She sounded scandalized, which was ironic considering the details of her own personal life.

      Grinning at her friend’s reaction, Phoebe put her empty coffee cup in the sink. Then she made a beeline for her favorite armchair, the first piece of non–garage sale furniture she’d purchased after starting her side business of wedding cakes. Their apartment was modest, but the kitchen met her picky specifications.

      “Which part of kissing don’t you understand?” she joked. “His lips, my lips. After the sordid tales of you and the hot stunt guy, I know you’re familiar with the concept.”

      Gwen scowled, clearly