Turn Up the Heat

He wanted Candy …

Candy. Candy’s voice. Justin whipped around to stare at his empty doorway.

Then she walked into his room, and he saw immediately that the light tapping footsteps were caused by the same sexy, high-heeled black ankle boots she wore the first time he saw her across the street. With the same leg-enhancing sheer black stockings. But instead of the same black miniskirt, today she wore—

He swallowed convulsively. No skirt at all. Just sheer black panties topped by a red lace garter. Above that a red lace bra trimmed in black, and a red-lipped sultry smile.

“Candy …”

“As sweet as.”

She put her foot up on his bed, heel sharp on his navy quilt, calf curving up from the boot to her knee, then diving down again on the slope of her inner thigh. His eyes were held hostage and he was speechless.

“Want a taste?”

There was no such thing as too much Candy …

Dear Reader,

I’ve had my share of online dating experiences, some fun, some boring, some downright bizarre. I’ve always thought there was room for a service using the convenience and accessibility of online dating, mixed with the personalization of old-fashioned matchmaking.

Milwaukeedates.com was born, and with it, Marie, its intrepid owner, who is determined to find perfect matches for her female friends and fellow business owners.

In this book, set in Wisconsin’s snowy cold February, Candy is looking for a man to help celebrate her first single Valentine’s Day in a long time. Coming out of a relationship with a guy who suppressed her true spirit, she is more than ready to be set free, sexually and emotionally, especially by a guy as magnetic as Justin, new in town from sunny southern California, and looking for any way he can to get warm.

Keep looking for those perfect matches!

Isabel Sharpe

www.IsabelSharpe.com

About the Author

ISABEL SHARPE was not born pen in hand like so many of her fellow writers. After she left work to stay home with her first-born son and nearly went out of her mind, she started writing. After more than twenty novels—along with another son—Isabel is more than happy with her choice. She loves hearing from readers. Write to her at www.IsabelSharpe.com

Turn Up The Heat
Isabel Sharpe

www.millsandboon.co.uk

MILLS & BOON

Before you start reading, why not sign up?

Thank you for downloading this Mills & Boon book. If you want to hear about exclusive discounts, special offers and competitions, sign up to our email newsletter today!

SIGN ME UP!

Or simply visit

signup.millsandboon.co.uk

Mills & Boon emails are completely free to receive and you can unsubscribe at any time via the link in any email we send you.

To sweet baby Alice,

who is such a welcome addition

Prologue

“IF YOU ASK ME, which I know you didn’t, you are ready to date again, Candy.” Marie nodded vigorously, looking around the table for confirmation from Kim and Darcy. The four of them were sitting together, as usual, at the every-third-Wednesday monthly breakfast meeting of Women in Power, Milwaukee’s organization of women business owners, held in a seventh-floor meeting room at the elegant Pfister hotel. “It’s January, the new year, time for a fresh start.”

“I don’t know.” Candy laughed nervously. She had a fresh girl-next-door beauty: heart-shaped face, long chestnut hair, wide-spaced light brown eyes and a generous, smile-prone mouth. If she put up an Available sign, men would kill each other getting in line. “I don’t feel ready.”

“You are, honey.” Marie laid her hand on Candy’s forearm. Candy had dated Chuck, the world’s biggest wet blanket, for five years before he had dumped her the previous February. “Trust me. I not only have a degree in psychology, but I am psychic. I had a vision.”

“Huh?” Candy looked startled.

“Wait, really?” asked Kim.

Darcy snorted. “Be serious.”

“Okay, not psychic, but certainly all-knowing.” Marie lifted her chin in mock outrage. “You should show respect for the wisdom of your elders.”

“Oh, what, you’re two years older than I am?” Darcy looked skeptical, as usual. “All of thirty-four?”

“Thirty-nine. Practically old enough to be your grandmother.” No, not quite that old, but Marie felt like a seasoned warrior, having been married ten years and divorced five, while the other three women at the table had never married and were currently single. “I know what I’m talking about. Candy should be out there dating, and she has the perfect resource in me to get started.”

“That’s for sure.” Sweet, shy Kim Charlotte Horton, the blonde of the group, stifled a yawn, striking blue eyes bleary from her being up all night to meet a particularly tough deadline for her struggling one-woman company, Charlotte’s Web Design. “You are the matchmaking queen.”

Marie agreed cheerfully. After her marriage had tanked and her online dating efforts met with no success, she became determined to create a site that didn’t just take people’s money and then make them do all the work. In five years, her personalized service, Milwaukeedates.com, had gone from the beginning of an idea to one of Women in Power’s Best Success Stories the previous year. Marie was happier than she ever thought would be possible again.

“I’ve considered it.” Candy nodded yes to the waitress’s pot of coffee and added two packets of sugar and two creamers to her refill. “At least I got that far.”

“Good first step.” Marie nodded her approval. Kim looked wistful. Darcy scowled.

Marie was content waiting for her own second chance at love, but she was determined to find that first chance for her friends. In fact, she’d made the three at this table her New Year’s Resolution. Each of these smart, fabulous women had so much to offer, and each deserved as much in return. “Candy, you do not want to let that first anniversary of being single go by without being out there looking for someone else. It’s a matter of pride.”

“When did Chuck break up with you? There was something horrible about it, that’s all I remember.” Kim wrinkled her nose. “But then I can barely remember my own name this morning.”

“Last February, on Valentine’s Day, the jerk.” Darcy narrowed dark eyes over her black coffee. “Candy planned a fabulous meal, made herself an incredible dress, decorated the dining room and her bedroom to the hilt, then Chuck slunk in and smashed her heart. So typically thoughtful of his gender.”

Marie sighed resignedly. Darcy, who could pass for a short-haired Catherine Zeta-Jones, was the work-obsessed proprietor of one of Milwaukee’s hottest new restaurants, Gladiolas, and would be Marie’s biggest matchmaking challenge, no question.

“How could I forget that charming story?” Kim made a sound of disgust. “The oinker.”

“Aw, he wasn’t so bad.” Candy moved uneasily. “It was my fault it all went wrong that night. The breakup had been written on the wall for a while. I just refused to read it.”

Darcy blew a raspberry. “Stop beating yourself up for something he did.”

“Thanks, Darcy, but …” Candy shrugged. “Every relationship is a two-way street.”

“From what I see, every relationship is a one-way street,” Darcy said. “The guy’s way.”

Marie groaned silently. As she’d thought, Darcy would be her biggest challenge, though she’d keep at her. Kim, she’d wait to match until her company seemed on firmer ground and her financial worries cleared. “In any case, Candy, if you let me help you I guarantee this Valentine’s Day will be a whole lot better than the last one.”

“Not that it would take much,” Darcy muttered.

“That’s for sure.” Kim drained her third cup of coffee. “You could scoop dog poo and have a better time.”

Candy smiled wanly, biting her lip, eyes distant. Marie’s instinct kicked in: She was thinking about Chuck, and not the way the three of them wanted her to be thinking about him. The last couple of times Marie and Candy had had lunch, Candy was still bringing his name up suspiciously often. The best way to evict that worthless lump from her heart was to replace him with someone new.

“Valentine’s Day is cursed in our family.” Candy gestured with her muffin. “My dad either forgot or the restaurant he was going to take Mom to burned down or the present he ordered arrived broken. My best friend Abigail planned a Valentine’s Day wedding, which her fiancé canceled. Chuck didn’t believe the calendar should dictate when he expressed love for someone, so it was usually up to me how we celebrated, or if we bothered. Most of the time I didn’t bother. It is overhyped.”

Marie leaned toward Candy. “Would you turn down flowers and candy and a declaration of undying love from a man on his knees in a fabulous restaurant just because of the date?”

Candy’s cheeks grew pink; her eyes shone. “Not on your life. In fact, I admit—guiltily—that exact scenario has been my proposal fantasy since I was a girl.”

“Come see me. It’s time.” Marie straightened and picked up the quarter of a cheese Danish she’d been determined to leave uneaten on her plate. “February is around the corner and we want you waist-high in roses and chocolate on the fourteenth.”

“That’s only a month from now.”

“You can find someone in a day if he’s right.” She took a guilty bite of the rich pastry—by now she knew better than to make dieting any part of her New Year’s resolutions. “And that’s where Milwaukeedates comes in. Matching clients shouldn’t be the job of some software program that doesn’t take human variation or taste into account. I work with each—”

“Marie.” Kim grinned at her. “You are sounding like your commercial.”

Candy snickered. “Yeah, I was looking around for the radio.”

“Okay, okay.” Marie brushed crumbs off her fingers and held up her hands. “But no apologies. I’m selling the real thing.”

“Ha!” Darcy shook her head in mock disdain. “You’re selling imprisonment, forced labor and a lifelong descent into—”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” Marie waved the comments away while pulling out her iPhone. She was sure Darcy’s posturing was more about self-protection than conviction. “Candy, it won’t cost you anything to come in and talk. Are you hosting any events tomorrow?”

Candy dug out her BlackBerry, an obvious ploy to buy time. In her line of work—party and event planning—she had to know what she was doing every day down to the last hour or she’d be sunk. “Well, no, nothing scheduled, but I have to prepare for a tea party on—”

“Tomorrow.” Marie pounced. “Ten o’clock?”

Candy turned helplessly to Darcy and Kim, the excitement in her eyes giving her away. “Am I really going to do this?”

“Looks that way to me,” Darcy said drily.

“Sure, why not?” Kim squeezed her shoulder. “You were smart to give yourself a year to get over Chuck. Now I agree with Marie, it’s time to move on. Remember, ‘Why leave meeting the right person to chance?’”

Darcy chuckled and joined in for the rest of Marie’s slogan. “‘Leave it to Milwaukeedates.com!’”

“Well?” Marie tilted her head, gave Candy a coaxing smile. “How about it?”

Candy attempted an exasperated sigh, entered Marie’s name in her BlackBerry, then held up the screen. “How does that look?”

Marie patted her friend on the arm, hiding the extent of her triumphant satisfaction. “Like you’re on the way to finding new love.”

1

CANDY PULLED INTO THE parking lot of Marie’s office building at 9:59 a.m. She’d spent the last hour with a jittery administrative assistant organizing an after-work surprise birthday party for her boss, the CEO of the company. She was the type of person who made Candy wish for patience pills: an anxious perfectionist worrywart. “Are you sure they spelled his name right on the cake?” No, Candy was sure they hadn’t, and she was thrilled because she loved doing a terrible job, which was why she was so much in demand.

Some people.

She picked up her briefcase containing a file of notes and Milwaukeedates.com paperwork filled in the night before, admittedly at the last minute. She’d popped a bowl of popcorn and settled down with a glass of wine to dull her nerves over this whole process. Then she’d been faced with trying to figure out how to represent her entire personality for an online profile in one paragraph, and how to summarize what qualities she wanted in a guy in another paragraph, all the while sounding witty and sexy and fun and appealing, yet honest and substantive.

Right.

Popcorn gone, bottle of wine half-empty, Candy had given up in exasperation. She had a personality as varied as the parties she loved to plan: whimsical, prim, raunchy—it ran the gamut. How to distill that into a neat sound bite without sounding as if she had multiple-personality disorder?

Exhausted and defeated, she’d finally decided problems like this were what she’d be paying Marie to handle, so she’d gone to bed and dreamed of marrying a guy with six heads.

Oh, baby.

Out into the frigid air of January, the harshest month of winter, though March won for the most wearing, Candy crossed an icy patch in the parking lot with the short, choppy steps people in winter states adopted to keep forward momentum to a minimum. Her breath sent mist streaming into the crisp, dry air, which swallowed the moisture gratefully. She was nervous, not entirely in a good way.

She couldn’t let go of the feeling that she was cheating on Chuck, which was ridiculous because he’d left her to pursue someone else, someone he claimed matched him better, which had been the most bewildering part of the breakup. Candy didn’t know any other couple that operated in such perfect unison. She and Chuck were so alike, and their minds ran in such complementary directions. She’d felt completely understood and accepted for the first time in her life.

Not that they never fought or disagreed—if couples never fought they were either suppressing emotions or had nothing to say to each other in the first place—but in everything that mattered, the big things, the values, what they wanted and expected from a relationship, on all those things they matched better than she ever could have imagined.

On top of that solid foundation, they shared a sense of humor, taste in movies, food and books, and their sex life was good, too. In short, Chuck never stopped being interesting, sexy and exciting to her; she lit up like a lightbulb every time she saw his face, yes, even five years later. How could she hope to find that again? How could he have let it go?

Most people recommended a year for recovery. Hers had been hell, but she was nearly through it. Maybe taking this first step would be the best way to banish her fear that she wasn’t ready, and her deeper fear that she’d never be able to remove Chuck entirely from her heart. When you loved someone that completely, gave yourself over, body and soul …

Yes. But. Chuck was with Kate now, living in her house in Racine, as much as that still managed to hurt, and Candy refused to stay stuck mooning over what wasn’t possible.

Plus, Marie’s point about Valentine’s Day was valid. Candy certainly didn’t want to spend the day alone, reliving the hell of the previous year. And being part of a lame-duck collection of single women that night didn’t appeal either. She wanted a date. A fun one, if not a really special one.

So.

She entered the warm building gratefully, stomped snow off her boots onto the mat and turned down the hall to Marie’s office. For the first three years Marie had operated Milwaukeedates.com out of her home, but she’d felt strongly that an office would up her professional cachet, so when the business started doing well she’d leased space downtown on Water Street, a gamble that had paid off.

Candy unwrapped the floral wool scarf from her neck, took off her black mittens—maybe she was old for mittens, but nothing kept her fingers warmer—and smiled at Marie’s receptionist. “Hi, Jane.”

“Hey, there.” Jane grinned, headset perched on top of her red curls, startling blue eyes blinking behind narrow black-framed glasses. “Marie’s in her office, go on in. If you want tea or coffee help yourself.”

“Thanks.” She crossed to the counter where Marie had set up a generous selection of teas and coffees, regular, decaf and herbal, and poured steaming water over a fragrant orange-spice tea bag.

Behind her, the ring of the phone, then Jane’s voice: “Milwaukeedates.com, how may I help you?”

A current client? A prospective client? Maybe even the guy Candy would end up with. Would she be out with him on Valentine’s Day?

Stomach churning with a mixture of excitement and dread, she strode to Marie’s office, knocked and pushed the already ajar door open. The space managed to be professional and cozy, much like Marie herself. Floor-to-ceiling bookshelves, occasional books turned face-out, deliberately empty spaces on the shelves filled with plants, pottery or sculpture. Oversize chairs in warm brown tones, a burgundy-shaded Oriental rug.

Behind her desk, on the phone and beckoning Candy in, Marie stood in a fabulous teal suit whose cut elegantly camouflaged her extra pounds and deemphasized her short stature. She’d recently started coloring her hair a subtle auburn, which flattered her still-smooth skin and complemented her hazel eyes, today embellished by soft black liner and subtle shadowing. Marie was a lovely, warm person with a core of strength and determination which had gotten her through her stinking husband’s betrayal and earned her every bit of her subsequent success.

Candy wanted to be her when she grew up.

“I completely understand, yes. And how did he react when you told him how you felt?” She smiled apologetically at Candy and gestured to the chair in front of her desk. “I see. And how did that make you feel?”

Candy sank into the cushy chair and arranged a couple of the bright pillows behind her back. The office was deliciously warm and smelled of lavender and orange spice, the perfect antidote to the frozen gray outside. Candy dipped her tea bag a few times and tried vainly to relax. Since her breakup with Chuck, in an attempt to mitigate the crushing grief, she’d thrown herself into work, dragged herself out of the house as often as possible, gone dancing, taken a cruise with her best friend, Abigail, traveled down to Chicago several times … and somehow she hadn’t managed to slow down again. Not like when she was dating Chuck and was blissfully content with evenings at home watching TV, weekends spent sleeping late, staying in bed later and puttering around the house.

She kept the pleasant look on her face and sipped hot, comforting tea, telling herself the past was past and she was here in hopes of starting her future—romantically speaking.

“Right. I understand. Well, I’m sorry it didn’t work out, but you have the date next week to look forward to …” Marie bent to hit buttons on her computer and scanned the screen. “With Ted. Yes. Okay, talk to you later. Take care. Bye.”

She punched off her phone. “That woman has gone out with and found something horribly wrong with practically every guy on our site. During our interview I thought she seemed a little wound-up, but I didn’t see this coming. She needs about a year’s worth of therapy, not a relationship.”

“Oof. Sorry.” Maybe Candy needed that, too. Or maybe she just needed another excuse to delay this moment.

“Anyway, this isn’t about her.” Marie came out from behind her desk and perched on the edge, beaming. “This is your time. We are going to find you someone absolutely fabulous. How did you do on the sheets I had you fill out?”

“Dismally.”

“Hmm.” She held out her hand. “Let me see.”

Candy pulled the papers from her briefcase. “I couldn’t decide between answers. I think I checked all the options practically every single time. Do I like staying home or going out? Yes. Do I like old movies or contemporary? Yes. Do I like restaurants, bars, clubs, movies, museums or lectures for a favorite night out? Yes. What is more important, career or family? Both. And on and on. I’m hopeless.”

“Hopeless?” Marie took the papers. “Let’s call you well-rounded. Adventurous, open-minded, cosmopolitan.”

Candy conceded the point. “Yes, better term than hopeless. But when I got to the introductory paragraph I splintered completely. I felt I could put up four different profiles.”

Marie looked up from the papers. “What would you call those profiles? I mean if you had to classify them. What would those four different parts of you be?”

Candy blinked. She’d expected Marie to laugh, not put on her psychologist hat. “Well. One part of me is playful. Like a kid. The part that dresses up as Sally the Silly Fairy at kids’ birthday parties. So one part I’d call goofy.”

Marie reached back for a pad and pen and started writing. “Child at heart. Go on.”

“Let’s see.” Candy sipped her tea, considering. “Another would be the part of me that likes to read, to do crossword puzzles, jigsaw puzzles, play Scrabble, to curl up in front of a fire with a glass of wine and a good book I can later discuss, to take classes in things I’d like to know more about. Call her … the Professor.”

“Professor.” Marie wrote it down. “I like that. Next?”

“Next … is the ambitious side of me, the part that loves organizing, planning, waking up every day knowing what I want to accomplish and knowing I will do it. Continually conquering challenges, beating back problems, making sure everything flows smoothly.” She frowned, trying to come up with a title. “Battle-ax?”

Marie pursed her lips disapprovingly. “Superwoman.”

“Superwoman!” Candy laughed. “That works, too.”

“Is that it?”

“Well … no.” Candy felt herself blushing and held the cup of tea close to her face. “There’s one more.”

Marie’s eyebrow raised. “Ye-e-es?”

“It’s the smallest part. I’m not even sure it really is a part of me, maybe just a fantasy.”

“I’m listening.”

“The part that would like to get dressed up for an absurdly expensive restaurant, to travel to Paris, Monaco, ski the Alps. To wear hot lingerie every day, and have the confidence to seduce a stranger in a bar merely by giving him the right look.”

“Hmm, yes.” Marie eyed Candy speculatively. “I can see her in you, but I don’t think you’ve indulged her yet. Chuck sure didn’t let you.”

Candy’s mouth dropped. “Didn’t let me? What do you mean? Chuck was very supportive of whatever I wanted to do and whomever I wanted to be.”

For one unbearable moment Marie just watched her, and Candy started feeling anxious as well as angry.

“Yes, sorry. I crossed the line.”

Candy let out the breath she’d been holding. She had to keep reminding herself that her girlfriends judged Chuck unfairly, probably out of loyalty because he’d hurt her so badly. She didn’t have much nice to say about Marie’s ex-husband Grant, either, after he’d left her for some bimbo barely old enough to drink. “It’s okay. I guess Chuck is still a raw topic. I’m not even sure I should be here. How can I fall for another guy when this one is still so special to me?”

“Oh, honey. I know how hard this is.” Marie capped her pen, face radiating gentle sympathy. “Of course I don’t want to push you to do anything you don’t want to. But I think this is the right time and the right way. I guess I’ll have to ask you to trust me.”

“I do.” She drank more tea to keep herself from breaking down and bawling. “I do trust you. I’m just a little …”

“Conflicted?” Marie smiled warmly. “I went through the exact same thing after my marriage broke up and I was looking to date again. I had to force myself the first few times. Then it got easier.”

“But you never found anyone.”

“No. But looking did me a lot of good, made me realize that Grant not wanting me anymore didn’t mean no one did. And besides.” Her smile turned wicked. “I didn’t have Milwaukeedates, and you do.”

Candy laughed. “Of course.”

“So.” Marie uncapped her pen again and poised it over the pad. “Let’s call the fourth one Sexy Glamour Girl.”

“Okay.” Candy finished her tea, stronger already. Marie was really good at her job. “So that’s me. How do I put all that together in a couple of paragraphs?”

Marie sat, eyes narrowed in contemplation, tapping her chin with a professionally manicured fingertip. “I have an idea. Kind of a wild idea, but …”

“I’m all ears.”

“Why don’t you make four profiles?”

Candy let out a startled laugh. “Four?”

“I know, crazy, right? I’m thinking of it as an experiment to see which part of you men respond to the most. See which part you enjoy bringing to the foreground the most. It would actually be fascinating from a psychological standpoint.”

“I’m … I … I’m …” She made herself breathe. “I’m stammering apparently.”

“Take your time.”

“Would that be fair to the guys I was seeing? If I’m not really being me?”

“But you are being you.” Marie pushed herself off the desk, headed behind it and opened a file drawer. “It’s not like you’re changing any part of yourself, just emphasizing one in each case. If the guy’s got half a brain he won’t think he knows you entirely because of how you present yourself on the site.”

“I don’t know, Marie.” Candy was getting excited even as her sensible self told her there had to be disastrous aspects to this plan that she couldn’t see yet.

“This will give you a chance to explore certain parts of yourself that might have been …” Marie circled her hand, coaxing out her next word. “Underappreciated.”

Candy put her hands to her temples, ignoring the second unreasonable jab at Chuck. “I need to think this through.”

“Of course.” Marie pulled out several sheets from a folder. “I have four sets of profile sheets here, one for each of you. You’ll probably fill them out in half an hour this time.”

“I haven’t said I’d do it.” She was turning the idea over and over. Instinct was telling her she was going to say yes, but common sense wouldn’t let her yet. Four different women?

“Filling these out doesn’t commit you.” Marie held the papers across the desk. “You’ll have a blast, especially given your talent for performing.”

“I haven’t been on stage in years.” Candy heard the laugh beginning in her voice. She never would have considered doing anything this impulsive and stupid if Chuck were around. He’d be here to tell her she was going off half-cocked again, not thinking through the pros and cons, not making a list and approaching the problem calmly and logically.

But Chuck wasn’t here.

“Maybe not on stage, but whenever you manage your events you’re performing in a way.” Marie shook the papers insistently toward Candy, who gave in and took them. “Plus, even though this is hardly scientific, I’d be curious about the results. Who knows, you might help me help other people decide how to present themselves, too. Oh, and you’d only have to pay regular fees. The three extras would be on the house.”

Candy slid the papers absently into her briefcase. “What if a guy recognized the other three of me when he’s looking through profiles?”

Marie smiled. “Pardon me, but my experience has been that while men are visual creatures when it comes to the opposite sex, they’re more likely to take in an impression of a woman than focus on her features. You probably haven’t spent much time browsing other sites, but I’m constantly having to tell men on ours not to submit long-distance pictures of themselves in sunglasses.”

“Why not?”

“Women want to see eyes, read faces. Men are okay with the bigger picture, shall we say.” She gave Candy a critical once-over. “We can do your hair and makeup differently for each, glasses for one profile, your contacts for another. And since most clients view primarily the profiles I suggest to them, it probably won’t even be an issue. If it is, who cares? We’ll explain. Not like we’re breaking a law.”

“True …” Candy shut her briefcase, excitement still bubbling away inside her. It did sound fun. More than that, appearing as a caricature of one part of herself felt more like a game and less like a risk, more like a dare than a date. Most importantly, this didn’t make it seem as if she was finally giving up hope that Chuck would come to his senses and want her back.

“Well? You’re grinning, that has to be a good sign.”

“I’ll do it.” She finished her tea and stood, feeling giddy and fizzy, better than she had in a long time. “I’ll really do it.”

Marie broke into a wide triumphant grin. “Candy, honey, get ready for some serious dating fun.”