To Catch A Cheat Part 15

"But you did, because deep down you thought I cheated back then, and I want you to know I didn't, not really. And besides, we have to talk about it for our a.s.signment."

"I guess you're right," she said, licking sauce from her fingers.

Trent watched her, the way her tongue captured each spicy drop, and his mind took the vision to other, more interesting scenarios.

"You're terrible," she said, stopping the process and grabbing a napkin to finish wiping her hands.

"Maybe, but you're terrible, too, because you knew exactly what I'd think when you started that little finger-licking display." Her cheeks flamed, and he nodded. "See? Guilty."

"Listen," she said, dusting off her hands and taking another sip of c.o.ke. "I kissed you back this morning, okay? I'll admit it. And it was stupid. I don't don't want you." want you."

Trent c.o.c.ked a brow.

"Okay. Maybe I want s.e.x, but I don't necessarily want it with you."

"Tell me how you really feel," he said, and couldn't keep from laughing. "And you wonder why all of those guys left?"

Her smirk turned into a sneer. "What I'm trying to say is that I don't even like you. And if the two of us get together, I lose the chance at my dream."

"Your dream?"

"My webzine, remember? AtlantaTellAll.com? I'm wanting it to take off enough that I can quit the day job, find the perfect guy-a guy who doesn't cheat-work from home, and have plenty of babies."

"Plenty?"

"I'm an only child. I always wanted brothers and sisters. You should remember that, since I distinctly remember-oh, forget it."

Trent did remember. "I was like the brother you never had," he said. She'd told him so, when she asked him to that dance way back then.

She snarled. "Let's just get the a.s.signment done. You say you didn't cheat."

"I didn't," Trent said, then held up a hand when she started to speak. "And I want you to hear what really happened. Believe it or not, I didn't even know you'd been upset about that dance thing until I read it on your site. You never said anything."

"I moved the next week," she said. "Trust me, I said plenty, but you weren't around to hear it."

"Well, for the record, I read on your site that you thought I backed out of the dance because you got braces."

"Right."

"Wrong. I didn't care whether you had braces. I backed out of the dance because I didn't want you to see me try to do something I simply couldn't do." He shrugged. "I couldn't dance. That's all there was to it."

She seemed to mull that over, then she chewed her lower lip, which reminded Trent of his. He licked the cut from her morning attack.

Marissa frowned. "I shouldn't have bitten you."

"No, you shouldn't have, and I shouldn't have backed out of that dance back then without giving you the reason."

She smiled. "No, you shouldn't have." Then she tilted her head as though she remembered something, and from the accusation in her eyes, Trent knew he wouldn't like it. "But you did go out with Donna."

"I didn't want to sit home on the night of the dance, so I went to the movies. I'd seen Donna Pritchett that day, and she mentioned wanting to see a movie. Since I was no longer going to the dance, I took her to the movie."

"You stood me up because you couldn't dance, and I put you in a cheater database because of it." She shook her head. "I feel like a fool," she whispered, then those big dark eyes looked directly at him. "I'll remove you from the database, right now." She started to stand, but Trent captured her wrist, then gently guided her back to her seat.

"No, don't," he said. "Then I'll lose all of the great free publicity."

To his relief, she laughed. "Okay, I'll leave it. Besides, it'd seem strange to Coleman and Speedy if I removed it now."

"I don't think it'd surprise them too much, since they're already betting on how long it'll take us to get together. They'd just see it as a step in that direction, you being nice to me and all."

"But we're not getting together, Trent," she said firmly. "I do want to win that prize, and I don't want to 'get together' with you, or anyone else, right now."

"You said you wanted a guy who doesn't cheat, and lots of kids," he said, obviously before really thinking through the implications of his words.

She blinked. "I barely know you, and that's not what you're offering. You're offering a week of s.e.x."

Trent didn't know what to say, because he wasn't sure what what he was offering. s.e.x? Definitely. Beyond this week? Probably. But the whole kit and caboodle and car seats? He looked at the feisty woman and thought . . . he was offering. s.e.x? Definitely. Beyond this week? Probably. But the whole kit and caboodle and car seats? He looked at the feisty woman and thought . . . Maybe Maybe.

"What's good about this situation is the fact that we don't want the same thing regarding a relations.h.i.+p, but we do want the same thing regarding our businesses. We want those ad campaigns, which will make it easy to remember why the two of us don't need to let an episode like that kiss happen again. So don't try. And I'll stay clear of you, too. Granted, we're attracted to something about each other, but we've simply got to control that until Friday. Then we'll never have to see each other again, and we can both get our advertising campaigns and both pursue our dreams." She smiled, as though she were thrilled with this perfect solution. "Deal?"

"h.e.l.l, no." He wanted to pick her up out of that seat and shake her, or kiss her. Or bite her. Or all three. The little spiel she'd rattled off without preamble sounded like one of the wordy little tirades that accompanied all of the cheater pictures on her site. In other words, she was mouthing off, trying to make light of something that was much deeper than she cared to admit. "No deal," he said.

"What do you mean, no deal?"

"I mean I don't plan to stay clear of you until Friday, Ms. Kincaid," he said, then corrected, "I mean, Rissi. Ris-si," he repeated, when she flinched at the nickname. "As a matter of fact, I'm planning on getting very close, and very personal. I plan to touch your skin, I plan to hear you breathe, I plan to kiss your lips"-he leaned closer, close enough to see her pupils dilate with his words-"and I plan to do more, Rissi. And what's more, you're going to want me to."

"I won't," she said, and had the wherewithal to shake her head slightly with the words. "I'll tell you the truth, Trent. I haven't had the best luck with men treating me right. You know that from my site. Before I get that serious again with a guy, I want to know I won't end up losing another piece of my heart."

Trent swallowed. She'd finally blurted out the truth. She was scared of being hurt again.

Her eyes widened as she apparently realized she'd said more than she intended. "I don't want you," she whispered.

"You do want me." His eyes s.h.i.+fted from hers, to her mouth.

"Your mouth must have healed fast," she said sharply, "if you're ready for another bite."

Trent laughed deeply. d.a.m.n, this was fun. "I'm not going to make it that easy for you, Rissi. When I kiss you again, and I will, it'll be because you ask for it, and if you bite, believe me, I'll bite back." He wasn't a fool. Forcing himself on her, particularly when she was so gun-shy of all men, wasn't the way to go. Making her want him so much that she asked asked him to take her . . . was. him to take her . . . was.

At the sound of her gasp, he retreated. "Now, I'm going to take a shower," he said, walking away. "And by the way, I don't lock the door."

"You might as well. I won't be joining you. In anything. Ever."

He didn't turn around, merely stopped at the door to his room and called, "You really are a liar, aren't you, Rissi?"

"I'm going to get that prize," she said. "And if you really wanted it, too, it seems like you wouldn't keep trying to make something happen here."

Trent held his hand on the k.n.o.b, debated how much to tell, then decided to go for it. What would it hurt if she knew? "You're right," he said. "The truth is, I'm not here because I want the prize, Rissi."

Petie, evidently noticing Trent's location, left his spot in the kitchen and darted toward Trent's feet.

"I bet he needs to go out," she said, looking a little confused from Trent's last statement as she got up from the table and started toward Trent and her dog. "I'll take him, since my room has the patio."

"Your room has the patio?" he asked, then he opened the bedroom door, allowed Petie to run through in a frantic pace toward the French doors, and realized why he'd heard Rissi moving about in the rooms this afternoon. She hadn't merely been taking Petie outside, and she hadn't been pulling some sort of prank like shortening his sheets; she had been swapping rooms. The blue room was now completely overpowered by female things. Rissi's things. And none of Trent's. "You moved me to the pink room?" he questioned, surprised at her gumption, but impressed with it, too. He'd remembered her from their school days as a girl with s.p.u.n.k. Nice to see that hadn't changed. room has the patio?" he asked, then he opened the bedroom door, allowed Petie to run through in a frantic pace toward the French doors, and realized why he'd heard Rissi moving about in the rooms this afternoon. She hadn't merely been taking Petie outside, and she hadn't been pulling some sort of prank like shortening his sheets; she had been swapping rooms. The blue room was now completely overpowered by female things. Rissi's things. And none of Trent's. "You moved me to the pink room?" he questioned, surprised at her gumption, but impressed with it, too. He'd remembered her from their school days as a girl with s.p.u.n.k. Nice to see that hadn't changed.

"It's not pink; it's peach," she said, s.h.i.+mmying past him to go open the patio door for Petie, who ran out as soon as the crack was large enough for him to squeeze through. "And I needed this room for Petie. Sometimes he has to go out at night, and I'm not about to walk through your bedroom in the middle of the night."

"Afraid you wouldn't walk through?" he asked. "Thinking you'd probably decide to stay?"

"In your dreams," she snapped.

"And yours."

She glanced out the patio door at Petie, sniffing the thin strip of gra.s.s. "You're the most egotistical man I've ever met."

"You keep saying that, and I'll keep correcting you. I'm confident; there's a difference. I'm confident that you want me, and I'm confident that I'll get what I want this week."

"What did you mean when you said you don't want the prize?"

Trent had known she'd ask, and he was ready. "I meant what I said. I'm not here for the prize, Rissi. What I want . . . is you."

A man wearing a towel-and only a towel-should never be trusted . . . or stared at.

-MARISSA K KINCAID

Chapter 14.

The phone in the apartment didn't merely ring; it clanged. Loudly. Particularly at 6:00 A.M A.M., when Marissa hadn't slept most of the night due to Trent's "What I want is you" "What I want is you" comment echoing in her brain until she wanted to scream . . . or run to his room. Neither was a viable option, so she stayed in her bed, completely in hiding, and watched a marathon night of comment echoing in her brain until she wanted to scream . . . or run to his room. Neither was a viable option, so she stayed in her bed, completely in hiding, and watched a marathon night of Rescue Me Rescue Me on FX. That Tommy Gavin, aka Denis Leary, was one crazy, troubled, and downright warped man. And yet, Marissa found herself drooling over him from her bed. She wanted Tommy Gavin. She wanted Trent Jackson. Both were bad news, deadly combinations of c.o.c.ky and cool and cute, so both "wants" bothered her terribly. on FX. That Tommy Gavin, aka Denis Leary, was one crazy, troubled, and downright warped man. And yet, Marissa found herself drooling over him from her bed. She wanted Tommy Gavin. She wanted Trent Jackson. Both were bad news, deadly combinations of c.o.c.ky and cool and cute, so both "wants" bothered her terribly.

Clllllllaannnnng.

Marissa blinked again. You'd think Trent could at least answer the phone when he'd inadvertently kept her up half the night. Then she heard the shower, and Petie's loud inhalations as he sniffed the floor. Marissa grabbed the irritating phone from the nightstand and punched the Talk Talk b.u.t.ton. "Hold on, Petie," she said to the dog, then added a quick, "You hold on, too," to the caller as she crawled off the bed to let Petie out. b.u.t.ton. "Hold on, Petie," she said to the dog, then added a quick, "You hold on, too," to the caller as she crawled off the bed to let Petie out.

She opened the door to the patio, blinked furiously at the blinding light outside, and turned to sneak another look at the clock. It sure didn't look like 6:00 A.M A.M. outside, and that's because it wasn't. "No way. It's eight o'clock already?"

"Yes, dear," Mona Kincaid said through the line.

"Mom?" Marissa said, waking up completely now. "Where have you been?"

"Branson, silly," Mona said. "As if you didn't know. The question is, where have you been? Or rather, why didn't you tell me you were moving in with Trent Jackson? I had to learn from Amy this morning."

"I tried to call you," Marissa said, "and left several messages for you to call me back. Somehow, telling you I was moving in with a guy I despise for a radio station contest didn't seem the right thing to leave on your voice mail."

Mona laughed. "You're right, and I saw where you tried to call on my cell phone, but we've been so busy here." She giggled, then stopped abruptly and cleared her throat. "Sorry dear, something just-got my funny bone."

Got her funny bone? "Mom, have you been drinking?"

"Oh, no, dear. Well, yes, but not this morning. They serve some really nice c.o.c.ktails at the shows, and I've tried one or two at night, but not today. Anyway, I did try to call your cell phone this morning, but I didn't get an answer."

Marissa visualized the tiny phone, sitting in its charger, in the other room. "It's in Trent's room," she said, then felt the need to explain. "We swapped rooms yesterday, so I could have the one with the patio for Petie to go out, and I left the phone in there. I'll get it this morning, so you'll be able to call me on that number again." Petie darted back into the bedroom, barked happily, then went back outside. He'd really adjusted well to this "going on the patio" scenario. Maybe Marissa should consider fencing in the back area of her own apartment to give him the same independence at home.

"Honey, you still there?" Mona asked.

"Yes. Did you say you talked to Amy this morning?"

"I did. When I called your apartment, then your cell phone, and didn't get an answer on either one, I called Amy to see what was going on. She told me about the radio station contest and gave me this number to try to reach you. She said she was working on answering emails to your new cheater site. Oh, and she told me that she added Denis Leary to the, um, Pick Your Favorite Hottie poll, and then she said that you should be sleeping at three-thirty in the morning instead of emailing her about Denis Leary and Rescue Me Rescue Me."

"Amy's full of opinions," Marissa said, smiling. She had missed her regular Monday night chat session with Amy and Candi last night. They'd offered to update the site on their own while Marissa was trapped with Trent. Little did they know, she would've welcomed something to do to keep her mind off the fire he had started in the kitchen, the one that subsequently kept her up all night.

"She does like to talk," Mona admitted. "In fact, she told me that Candi is seeing one of Trent's friends, a guy you two met at the radio station. Amy thinks he's a good match for Candi."

"I don't know," Marissa said. "Amy's always trying to matchmake somebody. Candi's been burned before."

"You never know if it'll work unless you give it a try," Mona said, going for that motherly wisdom tone. "And speaking of giving it a try, what about Trent? I told you before, but I'll say it again. He really seems like a sweetie to me."

"Mom, he isn't even an option. That's the whole point of this week. If I like the guy, I don't get the ad campaign."

"But you do like him."

"He drives me absolutely crazy," Marissa said, and wasn't lying. In fact, the entire situation was driving her bonkers. She couldn't wait until Friday, when she'd get her money and leave, and never see Trent Jackson again. That's what she wanted. Yeah, right Yeah, right. She did want did want Trent, but she wasn't about to act on that particular want, and she certainly wasn't going to tell her mother about it. Trent, but she wasn't about to act on that particular want, and she certainly wasn't going to tell her mother about it.

She did another quick mental comparison of Rescue Me Rescue Me's Tommy Gavin and Trent, and she realized there was a major difference after all. Sure, they were both c.o.c.ky and cool and cute; she'd already established that. But Mona had touched on the main difference-Trent really was a sweetie. While Tommy was an outright liar and cheat on the show, Trent was the opposite. He'd only given Marissa the truth, even truthfully proclaiming that he wanted her, and he'd also informed her he wasn't a cheater.

And, something else Mona was right about, Marissa couldn't deny that she actually liked him . . . a lot. But But if she liked him, she lost the ad money. And that he hadn't cheated before didn't mean he wouldn't cheat on Marissa. She did seem to have that effect on men. Come to think of it, how if she liked him, she lost the ad money. And that he hadn't cheated before didn't mean he wouldn't cheat on Marissa. She did seem to have that effect on men. Come to think of it, how would would she ever recognize a guy who wouldn't let his heart-and his other parts-wander, if she ever found one? she ever recognize a guy who wouldn't let his heart-and his other parts-wander, if she ever found one?

"Drives you crazy, huh? In a good or a bad way?" Mona asked, pulling Marissa out of her newest quandary with yet another tough question.

"Mom, I really don't have time to talk about this now. We've got to do the morning show with Coleman and Speedy in less than an hour."

"I know, dear. Amy told me how I can listen to it on the hotel's Internet here, so I'll tune in."

"They broadcast over the Internet?" Marissa whispered, then realized that she knew they did. She'd listened to the show through her computer at work, whenever the company PA system was on the fritz. But somehow, that hadn't entered her mind this week, that the entire world wide web could hear each morning's interaction.

"Yes, honey. In fact, Amy said the station will have all of your broadcasts online. I can hear them all with a click of the mouse. Modern technology is amazing, isn't it? Anyway, we're planning to listen to you on the air in just a little bit."

"We?" Marissa asked.

Mona cleared her throat. "Me and my friends, dear. You know I came here with the seniors."

"Surely they've got other things they'd rather do this morning than listen to us on the radio."