“I had a plan, too, and see where I am-getting wakeup calls from my uncle.” Sara sighed, sipped her coffee, then looked at Candy. “So, you went out after your swim, right?”

“Right.”

Sara leaned in, staring at Candy’s neck. “Is that what I think it is?” Her eyes went wide. “It is. It’s a hickey. What happened?”

“Shh.” She put her finger to her lips. “Not a word to Ellie. Matt got drunk and we kind of made out.”

“Made out? Uh-uh. You slept with him!” She half whispered, half squealed the words.

“It was a mistake. And I’m pretending it didn’t happen. And you have to, too. Ellie will never let me hear the end of it.”

“You are pure inspiration to me,” Sara said, her low voice full of laughter.

“I shouldn’t be. This is so…shortsighted. Irresponsible. Immature. Childish, really.”

“Is this about your brothers again? Big brothers always baby their little sisters.”

“It’s not just that. My brothers were partners in their firms by the time they were my age. I’m like a joke to them.”

“We all get locked in our sibling positions. No matter what we accomplish. I’m sure the president has to call if he’ll be late to dinner at his mom’s.”

“The point is that sleeping with Matt was the last thing I should have done in my situation.” She shook her head, painfully pissed at herself.

“You’ll recover. You are the most determined woman I know. You don’t give yourself enough credit.”

“Thanks for the support, Sara. Now allow me to help you.” She held down the off button on Sara’s cell. “Voice mail is your friend.” She handed the dead phone over.

She grimaced. “I’m trying. Truly.”

Candy glanced over at Sara’s laptop. “Should I hide that thing so you can’t work on it?”

“Not yet. I’m weaning myself. Really.”

“Today, you’re going to ask for surfing lessons, right? It’s your duty to the team.”

“We do need the points.” Sara brightened, as if turning it into a duty meant she could safely do it.

“How about this? You try to enjoy yourself today, Sara, and I’ll try not to.”

Sara gave a rueful laugh, then glanced at the clock. “It’s six. I need to roust Ellie for her audition. I’m doing her makeup. Wish me luck.”

“How did her hair turn out?”

“I think gorgeous. She’s not so sure.”

“Change is not for wimps or sissies.”

“Amen to that.” Sara saluted her with her mug.

Candy showered and dressed, careful to mask her love bite with plenty of foundation. Twenty minutes later, she was working at the computer, while Ellie moaned about the audition and Sara chased her around the condo with an eye-shadow palette.

Freeda was at work when Candy called and easily sent her the files she needed. Candy double-checked her PowerPoint presentation, got everything in order and made a few notes. It took hardly any time, which made her feel better about blowing off work the evening before with Matt.

What she’d prepared would really show him why she’d make a great team leader. Candy could name three shoo-ins and a most-likely for four of the team leader spots. She had her heart set on the fifth one. She had the advantage of more marketing experience than anyone else Matt could possibly consider. Her secret weapons were fresh ideas, creativity and the dedication she was showing Matt this week.

Finished, she shut down the computer, put it in the bag, then mixed up a glass of her patented hangover cure to take to Matt. She was good.

She set off, the gently crisp air adding to her high spirits. Only a few surfers were in the water and a handful of people ran along the beach. Radar, her kindred spirit, was nowhere to be found. Maybe her work ethic had chased him away.

She knocked at Matt’s door. No answer.

Could he still be asleep? Or was he in the shower? She went to the back of his place and peered in his bedroom window.

He was in bed, lying on his stomach. He’d kicked off most of the bedspread so that his bare ass and one leg were in full view. Her heart practically stopped at the sight.

His dark hair was dramatic against the white spread. His butt muscles dipped and swelled. She noticed a beauty mark high on the left cheek-the mate to the one on his face.

She was staring like a Peeping Tom, but it felt more like visiting a museum, studying a gorgeous statue: Man at Rest.

And she’d had him in action mere hours ago. The memory made her ache in delicate places.

She released a sigh and rested her forehead on the screen, making it rattle against the window.

Matt lifted his head at the sound, then pressed his temples, as if in pain. Sitting up, he saw her. His lips moved-saying her name, she’d bet. He tugged the spread around his waist and staggered to the window, which he opened. “Why did you leave?” He blinked at her through the screen, looking adorably sleepy.

“I was restless. And I had work to do.”

He squinted at his watch, but that seemed to hurt, too. “It’s only seven-thirty.”

“Sorry I woke you, but you said you were up by six. Should I come back later?”

“No, no, it’s fine,” he said, trying to smile, but only managing a wince.

“Dr. Candy to the rescue.” She lifted the glass. “My patented hangover cure.”

“I’ll meet you at the door.” He turned and plodded away, the bedspread slipping deliciously low on his behind, so that his beauty mark seemed to wink at her. Mmm.

He let her in, then looked her over dreamily. “How are you, Candy?”

She fought the melting feeling and held out the glass. “Better than you, I bet.”

“You look great,” he said, his eyes roving her face, then her body, then back up to stop at her neck. “Did I do that?” He touched the hickey.

“I tried to cover it up,” she said.

“Don’t. It’s cute.” He looked almost proud.

“Here.” She put the glass in his hand. “It’s got OJ, an egg, protein powder and a dash of vodka. Wait, though. You need B vitamins.” She put the computer down and fished out two capsules from the pillbox in her purse.

“Take these, drink it all down, then take a cool shower so your capillaries won’t swell. That causes more pain. The final touch is a scalp massage.”

“You’re taking care of me.” He grinned goofily.

“Trying to. Now drink.”

Obediently, he took the vitamins and emptied the glass. “Not bad,” he said, smacking his lips.

“Now the shower.”

“How about you come with?” he asked, low and slow. His wrap hung low and she glanced down to see an unmistakable bulge.

She forced herself to stay on task. “I already showered.”

“You can never be too clean.” He reached for her.

She sidestepped. “Matt. We have to forget last night.”

“Not possible.”

“It has to be. You were drunk. I was…stupid. We work together.”

“We’re on vacation. What happens in Malibu, stays in Malibu?”

His argument was tempting, but no. “Last night was-”

“Great,” he said.

“It was crazy,” she corrected, fighting the urge to go with what he was saying, keep it up, stay in the fog of desire. “It was the time, the place, the booze. We were two warm bodies acting on natural urges. Under normal circumstances, we’d never be together, right? We’re like apples and oranges, oil and water…”

“Gasoline and a match.” His voice had a rough, sexy edge.

“Yeah. That.” She felt herself weaken, watched his fingers at his waist, thought about how nimble they were. If he would just drop that bedspread, they could get down to business.

No. Control yourself. “Come on,” she said as if he were being ridiculous. “The two of us? I mean, you’re not my type.” That sounded harsh and hurt flickered in his face, so she fixed it. “And I’m not yours, either. Right?”

“Right,” he said stiffly, tightening his fist in the wadded sheet. “Of course. I’ll get dressed.” He turned to go, looking so defeated her heart ached.

Except in bed, she wanted to call after him. In bed, you’re more my type than anyone. Ever. But this was best.