Page 22 of Tristan’s Temptation

“It’s just…I can’t imagine Adam using a condom—”

“Drop it!” Kat growled. “I don’t want you thinking about Adam at all. Certainly not like that.”

“Yeah.” Jenny traced her lips with a black fingernail. “If you have to fantasize about a guy not using a condom, fantasize about someone who’s not engaged to your best friend. Fantasize about Tristan not wearing a condom.”

Shannon’s heart lurched, first of all due to her unaccountable fury at the prospect of Sara—or anyone—thinking about Tristan, with or without a condom. And secondly because, as she recalled their mad, passionate tryst in his office…there had been no condom in evidence.

Now, on the face of it, that didn’t present much of a concern for Shannon, who was routinely privy to all of Tristan’s mail—including his medical results. She knew he had a clean bill of health, just as she knew her records were impeccable. But when her last relationship had ended, some three years ago, her doctor had recommended she switch birth control pills in an attempt to lower her blood pressure. Since she hadn’t been getting any anyway, she’d simply stopped taking pills altogether.

Heavens.

“So will there be any grandchildren for Mama Trillo?” Jenny asked teasingly and Shannon jumped, flushing until she realized the question had been directed at Kat. In a sudden panic, she quickly reviewed her monthly schedule and frowned, trying to remember when her last period had occurred. She relaxed when she worked out that the day in Tristan’s office had been on the downside—the least fertile time—of her cycle.

How awful would it be to turn up pregnant with Tristan’s child?

And how wonderful.

Still, she vowed to make certain, should they ever have the opportunity to mate again—and she was determined they would—she would have adequate protection available.

“So?” Jack Maris skewered Tristan with a probing look.

They were in Adam’s office, around the small conference table in the corner, ostensibly going over production estimates from the manufacturer. Tristan was having trouble staying on task.

He frowned at Jack, who had just yanked him from a steamy fantasy featuring Shannon in the shower. “So…what?”

Jack sighed dramatically. “So how did your little interactive demo turn out last night? How did Virtual Life hold up?”

For a second, panic raced through Tristan’s mind, along with the certainty that Jack knew about his virtual tryst with Shannon—that Jack somehow had witnessed everything.

Fury skirled in his gut until he realized if Jack had been referring to Tristan’s interaction with Shannon, his tone would have been infinitely more suggestive. His eyebrows would be bobbling and he’d be licking his lips with glee. No. Jack had no way of knowing how Tristan had used the game last night. Jack was concerned about one thing—his reputation as resident genius.

When Shannon had asked for applications to be loaded on his computer, Jack probably assumed Tristan was checking up on him. Along with being brilliant, Jack was paranoid in the extreme.

Tristan cleared his throat. “It went well. I think we should start a public beta test.”

“Really?” Jack’s eyes lit up and Tristan relaxed. He had effectively thrown the hound off the scent. Dodged, in fact, a virtual bullet. He would have been hard-pressed to explain what he’d been doing with the program last night, and with whom. And why.

“A public beta test sounds great,” Adam said. “Why don’t you start on that now, Jack?” The command was a patent dismissal and they all knew it. Adam, Jack and Tristan. He shot his brother a dark glower, which Adam returned.

Shit.

So much for dodging a bullet.

As soon as Jack left the room and closed the door, Adam lit in. “What the hell was that all about?”

Tristan studiously flicked through the pile of papers before him. “Hmm? What?”

“Come on, Tristan. I know that expression. What exactly have you been up to?”

“Nothing.” Tristan glared.

“Okay.” Adam folded his arms over his chest. “Tell me about your interactive demo. How did Virtual Life hold up? And what the hell is the deal with running the demo a month ahead of schedule?”

“It was a private demo.”

Adam sat back and stared at his brother in stunned silence. “Oh. My. God,” he said. “You’re getting cyber-screwed.”

Tristan’s frown darkened. “I don’t want to talk about it. And I don’t need to hear any sermons from you about internet sex.” Adam had spent more than his share of time on the internet trolling for a little bow-chicka-bow-wow. Hell, if it weren’t for the internet, Adam and Kat would probably never have found each other and Adam wouldn’t be getting laid at all.