Beau’s plan to chase Marissa back to New York melted away like cold butter on a hot biscuit.

In unison, his arms and legs collapsed. He fell flat on his back and Marissa, done in by his downward momentum, tumbled on top of him. His arms went around her waist and he pulled her tight against his chest.

Gotcha.

Her small eyes rounded wide and she started to draw back but he wasn’t about to let her go. He wanted more of those lips.

Slowly, leisurely, he increased the pressure, deepening the kiss, coaxing her lips apart with his inquisitive tongue.

He didn’t remember that his little sister and his dog were watching them. He didn’t recall that he’d just lost the bet and he might have to create a sex video game. Hell, he nearly forgot his own name.

Only one thought throbbed through his brain.

Marissa, Marissa, Marissa.

With a long, lazy flick of his tongue, he seduced her in deliberate degrees. His head spun with the dizzying flavor of her. As he’d expected she tasted exquisitely rich and satisfying.

He took the kiss deeper. He groaned low in his throat and she responded with a helpless mewling. The soft sound was an instant trigger, powering up his testosterone. What stunned Beau most of all was that Marissa was going along with him, escalating their kiss. He felt her body relax against his chest.

Apparently, he hadn’t been wrong about their mutual sexual attraction.

His palm caressed the curve of her hip and an instant masculine response surged through his body. Her shirt was so short he could feel the hem of it hiked up against the back of her thigh. Her mouth was moist and hot and the spot where his hand rested grew warmer. He heard the tempo of her breathing accelerate.

“Ahem.” Jenny cleared her throat. “I’ll just shut the parlor door on my way out.”

Regretfully, he broke the kiss but the imprint of Marissa’s lips, the heady taste of her, lingered like evening dew at sunrise.

The sound of the door shutting softly and Anna’s dog tags jingled told them their audience had left the room.

Marissa scrambled to her feet and then extended her hand to help him up. When Beau was standing their gazes locked, their hands still interlaced, she touched the tip of her wicked tongue to her upper lip.

“I win,” she whispered. “You’ve got to design the video game for Pegasus.”

Losing wasn’t so bad, he thought with an inward grin. Not when the benefits far outweighed the punishment.

“Have you forgotten,” he asked, surprised to hear his own voice sounding so raspy. “I said if you won I would design the game only under one condition. This isn’t a done deal, Marissa. You might find my stipulation unacceptable.”

“You’re counting on me finding it unacceptable aren’t you? Come on, Thibbedeaux. Lay it on me. What’s it going to take to get you to say yes to this project?”

“You know I’m not leaving Louisiana, not for a week, not for a day, not for an hour.”

“Is that your condition?” She waved away his refusal to leave home as inconsequential. “That’s no problem. We can work through e-mail and teleconferencing. I can even make a few trips back and forth if necessary.”

He shook his head. “Nope, sorry. That’s not good enough.”

“Why not?”

“I need more from you.”

“Stop being cryptic. I find it annoying.”

“Oh, you do?”

Beau liked riling her up. Not that it was such a tall order. She stayed ready for a fight. He saw it in the aggressive tilt of her shoulders, in the defensive way she jumped to conclusions. Six weeks with him and he could remedy her pugilistic tendencies.

He thought of how much his life had changed for the better since he left New York and he longed to give her the same gift of tranquility he’d discovered for himself. And in the process he hoped they’d both have a hell of a good time. Would she agree to his proposition?

“Beau, please,” she wheedled, trying a different tactic. She batted her eyelashes but he wasn’t fooled. The woman was a competitor all the way. “Don’t tease. What is it you want?”