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when we return on Sunday,” he mused, not looking at her. “Too bad we didn’t bring Yoda with us. He might have gotten a chance to show off his fancy duds on the beach.”
    Faith’s gaze narrowed in his direction, not that he noticed as he was watching traffic and not her. “Quit making fun of my dog.”
    â€œIf you put clothes on your dog, you have to expect him to be made fun of. By real men and real dogs.”
    â€œI expect no such thing and Yoda is a real dog. The best dog. The sweaters are to keep him warm.”
    â€œAnd here I thought that’s what fur was for.” He shot a horrified look her way. “You didn’t shave him, did you?”
    â€œNo.” Taking an exasperated breath, she shook her head, pursed her lips at him. “I know what you’re doing, and it isn’t going to work.”
    He had the audacity to glance at her, all innocence and good looks. “What isn’t going to work?”
    As if he didn’t know exactly what he was doing.
    â€œWhat you’re doing.”
    â€œWhich is?”
    â€œTrying to get me flustered about the dog so that I will forget to make my case regarding this not being a working weekend.” She fixed him with a determined glare. “This is a working weekend, Vale.”
    Changing lanes on the parkway, he passed a slower car. “What’s wrong with us just having some fun?”
    Was he kidding? “The only reason I’m here is because this is a working weekend.”
    â€œThat’s not true. I asked you to accompany me this weekend because my mother was determined to paradeevery single female at the wedding in front of me in the hope I’ll not be able to resist making a walk down a long aisle to a short-noosed rope.” He pulled off the parkway, zipped through the EZ Pass lane at the toll booth, and headed toward downtown Cape May. “With you by my side, she’ll leave me alone. I can spend time with my family without having to call out the National Guard.”
    The National Guard? Did he expect such a rush of female would-be suitors? Casting another quick look at him, she decided that, yes, he probably did and rightly so. Forget his money, power and prestige, Dr. Vale Wakefield was still the finest catch in New York.
    For the weekend she was to defend his bachelorhood? Where was the 1-800 hotline to the National Guard? She’d be the one needing reinforcements.
    â€œShe won’t buy that I’m anything more than a colleague.”
    Vale shot her a quick look. “Why wouldn’t she?”
    Should she list the reasons? Write him a thesis perhaps? “I’m not your type.”
    â€œObviously, you are.” And obviously he found her comment amusing since he chuckled.
    â€œWhat’s that supposed to mean? You like tall, willowy women with IQs lower than their bust sizes,” she reminded him.
    â€œI kissed you,” he parried.
    As if those three little words explained everything.
    She bit her lower lip. “Why did you?”
    â€œI wanted to.”
    He’d wanted to. Pleasure bubbled inside her like just uncorked champagne, overflowing with rich, foamy giddiness, intoxicating her senses.
    She was drugged. Drugged by the insanity being around a man as potent as Vale caused. She didn’twant this, didn’t want to feel this way. Not about him or any man.
    â€œWhat about what I wanted?”
    â€œAre you saying you didn’t want me to kiss you? Because I don’t believe you.” His expression said, Yeah, right. Tell me another one.
    â€œI stopped you,” she reminded him, chin high.
    â€œNot until after a good bit of tongue thrusting and spit swapping had taken place. Face it, Faith, you wanted me to kiss you as much as I wanted to kiss you.”
    â€œEww.” Ignoring his second sentence, she wrinkled her nose at his coarse words. “Don’t be gross, Vale.”
    â€œI was making a