made clear she wanted him to untie, so he brought her back to his suite at the hotel and diligently unwrapped her. At the time it had seemed like the perfect arrangement.
She wasn’t looking for serious, a good thing, since he didn’t do serious. Ever. He’d made that clear.
Apparently not clear enough, because the phone rang again and Wingman instinctively curled up on Marc’s feet and whimpered. Another reason to send her to voice mail: Natasha didn’t do dogs.
“When are you going to learn?” Lexi lectured from beside him. “You can’t just keep ignoring women and hope they’ll go away.”
“You know what? You’re absolutely right.” He handed her the phone. “Here.”
She shook her head while backing away. “What are we, in high school? No way. I stopped being your winggirl when Bethany Jones called me crying about how you were her soul mate and I had to tell her that you were gay.”
“I still can’t believe you said that.” Or that Bethany had bought it. Marc rested his palm on the brick wall, sending a flirty wink at a brunette wearing a push-up bra who passed by the alley. Push-up flushed and looked away.
Gay, my ass.
“Come on. One last call,” Marc heard himself beg. “Then we’ll be even.”
“Even? You said we wouldn’t ever talk about this.” She gestured vaguely to the window.
The phone rang, louder and more obnoxious than the last time. Marc felt his left eye twitch.
“Doesn’t mean that we both won’t know you still owe me one.” Marc hated pulling that. He had no intention of holding Lexi’s inability to climb through a window over her head. But he also had no intention of dealing with Natasha right now.
Not before his morning coffee and chocolate croissant. Not when Marc was trying to prove to himself—and his brothers—that bowing out of the family wine business and dumping every cent he had into renovating an old hotel, which was becoming a serious money pit, was a smart move. And not when the most prestigious blind wine tasting in the country, the St. Helena Summer Wine Showdown, was just six weeks away and being held in his hotel. He couldn’t afford any distractions.
He couldn’t afford to fuck this up.
The phone gave one final ring and went silent. Marc exhaled and, after making sure the phone hadn’t somehow connected, sagged against the brick wall, relieved.
It immediately rang again.
Marc rolled his head so he was looking at Lexi, making sure to turn on the charm. “Come on, cream puff.”
“Don’t aim that at me.” She pointed to his face. “I’m immune.” Didn’t he know it. The one woman who couldn’t be charmed was the only one who mattered.
Forcing an unaffected smile, one that he’d mastered after fifteen years of watching Lexi and Jeff together, he played his winning card. It was a crappy card to play, but suddenly this wasn’t about avoiding Natasha as much as it was about getting back to where he and Lexi used to be.
“You don’t have thirty seconds to help an old friend out?”
Something painful flickered in Lexi’s expression. Marc didn’t know why he suddenly felt like shit, but his gut got that squirrelly feeling he hated. The one that came when he knew he’d screwed up. Before he could figure out what he’d done, Lexi held out her hand.
“Fine. I’ll do it. But then we’re even. Agreed?”
“Agreed.”
He handed her the phone. She didn’t take it. “But I’m not pretending to be your spiritual life coach.”
“All right.”
“Or your nonna, sister, stalker, or any other woman who has possession issues.” Marc nodded. “You have fifteen seconds to explain the logistics of this latest conquest. Go.”
“Fine. We spent a few nights together. She wanted more. I said no, too busy focusing on my hotel and the Summer Wine Showdown. We parted friends. Now she’s calling again.”
“That’s all of the story.”
“Yup.”
She reached over and, instead of taking the phone like he’d expected, hit speakerphone. “Marco DeLuca’s office, how may I help you?”
The phone remained silent.
“Hello?” Lexi prompted.
“Um…yes.” Natasha’s voice sounded through the phone. It was pinched and pissed and, unless Marc was mistaken, jealous. It also was nasal and annoying, something he’d never noticed before today. “I’m calling for Marco.”
Lexi gave Marc a where-do-you-find-these-women roll of the eyes. “Unfortunately, he’s in a meeting right now. Can I take a message?”
“A meeting?” Natasha’s tone all but said liar, liar. “Well, when he’s done with his meeting, make sure he closes the window. I would hate for someone to sneak into the bakery and