Blogger Bundle Volume I: Dear Author Selects Unusual Heroines Page 4

  “No, she doesn’t.”

  His mouth thinned. “Why not?”

  God, she wanted to throttle him. “Because it’s no one’s business. I keep my private life private.”

  “Right.”

  “Owen, I have to make some phone calls.”

  “Uh-huh. Dan Crawford, right? What does he do? Is he in marketing?”

  “No, he’s not.” She opened the door. “Please, if you don’t mind. I have work to do.”

  He made a move toward the door, but before he crossed the threshold, he turned to face her, his determination a bit daunting. “Come on, Jess. Don’t forget who you’re talking to. I know your hours. I’ve called you at home at 3:00 a.m., at five. You’re either there or at work, or in transit. So where did this private life come from? What, did you rub a bottle and he popped out?”

  “No,” came a voice from just behind her. “She won me in a poker game.”

  She whirled around to see Dan, bags in hand, staring past her. She’d never been so grateful to see anyone.

  The small gurgle behind her made her turn back to Owen, who looked decidedly greenish.

  “Owen McCabe,” she said, “this is Dan Crawford. “Dan, this is Owen.”

  Dan put down his bag, put one arm around her shoulder and swung her into his arms. Then he kissed her. Kissed her as if he owned her. Kissed her until she thought her knees would give out.

  Not just lips to lips, but teasing tongue, hot breath, intimacy that made her clench her fists so she wouldn’t push him away. Then his tongue slipped between her teeth, and he was inside her. This man she didn’t know. Her hired escort. And, good God almighty, her entire body went ballistic. Everything from goose bumps to hard nipples to curling toes.

  She heard Owen cough, but that was somewhere out there, and she was busy. She tasted him back, rubbed her unclenched hand over the breadth of his shoulders.

  Finally, when he was well and truly finished, he let her go. She gasped for breath, sure her face was aflame, her arousal as clear as the blush.

  Dan smiled too knowingly, turned to her boss and grabbed his hand. “Nice to meet you, Owen. Jessica has told me a lot about you.”

  HOW TO IMPRESS A WOMAN

  Wine her and dine her. Listen to her. Laugh with her. Buy her flowers. Go shopping with her. Don’t stop reminding her she is beautiful. Console her when she is down. Rejoice with her when she is up. Read romantic poetry to her. Tell her you love her.

  HOW TO IMPRESS A MAN

  Arrive naked. Bring beer.

  Source: Borja, Greg “How to Impress a Woman”

  http://www.buzzle.com/

  4

  DAN FOCUSED his whole attention on Owen McCabe. Not just because he wanted to gauge the man’s reaction to his rather spectacular introductory move, but because he didn’t dare think about that kiss.

  Holy shit. He hadn’t expected anything like that. Not that he hadn’t had great kisses before, but this was…he wasn’t sure what it was. Maybe because he knew he was going to be spending so much time with her, talking about such intimate things. Or maybe because he’d been thinking so much about her. On the other hand, it might just be that the woman turned him on like a light switch.

  Owen’s face had shifted from bright red to a subtle pink, but his eyes were still wide with shock, and his hand, still in Dan’s, gripped him so hard it hurt. Dan coughed, and that got Owen to let go. “I’m just glad I get to be around for the big doin’s,” Dan said, all bonhomie and good grace.

  “Around?”

  “Didn’t Jessica tell you? I’m going to stay for the campaign. Lend a hand when I can. Watch my girl in her hours of glory.” He turned a beaming smile on Jessica, who looked just a little freaked. He eased his arm around her shoulder and gave her a squeeze. “It’s going to be great.”

  Owen looked as if he’d been stabbed repeatedly with a small knife. “You’re staying the whole week?”

  “Yep. But don’t worry. I won’t interfere. I’ve been given the rules, which I intend to obey to the letter.”

  The pink in Owen’s cheeks got a little darker. “But I, uh…”

  “Jessica has told me how great you’ve been, and how much she’s learned from you. I’m impressed.”

  Again, Owen blinked. Rapidly. “Impressed.”

  “You bet. She’s so damn bright, I never expected her to find a boss who could keep her on her toes. But you sure have.”

  Now it was Jessica’s turn to clear her throat. “Owen was just leaving,” she said, “because I have calls to make. You know, uh, business calls.”

  “Right,” Dan said. “Well, great meeting you, Owen.” He picked up his bag. “I’m sure we’ll see a lot of each other. I look forward to it.”

  Owen’s mouth opened, but nothing came out.

  Dan didn’t wait for words. He just walked to the door, held it open for Jessica, then closed it behind them.

  As for Jessica, she walked straight to a white chair by the window, picked up a glass and swallowed the contents.

  “Pretty slick, eh?” he said, heading toward the closet. “I think he bought it.”

  “I think we almost had to call the paramedics.”

  Dan chuckled. “I figured why not go for it? Give him both barrels right from the get-go. Give him something to chew on while he sits it out in his suite.”

  Jessica studied him with a bit more wariness than he cared for. “I don’t imagine he’ll need another demonstration that’s quite so vivid.”

  “Maybe not. But as you’ve said, he isn’t one to grasp the subtleties.”

  Her eyes widened. “That was about as subtle as a Sherman tank.”

  “And fun, too. How about that?”

  Jessica put down her glass and crossed her arms. She looked terrific in her cream jacket and slim skirt. Those high heels made her seem taller, which, he supposed, was the point for her, but they made him itch to run his fingers down the long line of her calf.

  She did do a pretty good job of looking stern and no-nonsense, he had to give it to her. “About the fun part,” she said, her tone keeping pace with her scowl. “This is a job, and I have no intention of letting it get even the slightest bit out of hand. If it becomes necessary for you to put on a show of affection, I insist that you take the minimum step, not the maximum, and that you always keep in mind that it means nothing. Absolutely nothing.”

  He nodded, trying to match her seriousness. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have made any reference to my enjoyment level. It was unprofessional. I’ve never been a paid escort before, so you’ll have to forgive me. I’ll do better in the future.”

  He could tell she wasn’t sure if he was mocking her, and for a moment he thought she might really let into him, but she didn’t. She just uncrossed her arms and went to the coffee table, where she got her phone from her purse. “Feel free to put your things away. This couch opens up into a bed, so you can plan accordingly.” Then she started punching in a phone number.

  He took her at her word and unpacked. He’d brought a wide selection of clothes, from city casual to black-tie, not knowing what kind of events he’d be expected to attend. When he stashed his night kit in the bathroom, he thought it prudent to keep the condoms tucked away with his razor and shaving cream.

  When all was stashed, he poured himself a soda from the bar, got his notes from his briefcase and sat down at the corner desk.

  He listened to Jessica for a few minutes while he pretended to read. And while the conversation about overtime for models didn’t interest him in the least, the way she carried herself did.

  Glen had been very accurate when he’d described her as a powerhouse. She conducted business from a position of strength and confidence, and even though he only heard her side of the negotiations, he could tell she was going to get her way. There was no doubt in her mind, and it was only a matter of time before she’d convinced the model’s rep of the same thing.

  Good. His instincts had been right on. This wasn’t a woman who was going t
o get all shy and giggly when he asked her about clitoral stimulation. He studied his notes, scanning the outline he’d made the night before. It wasn’t complete, but he figured the dialogue would suggest other topics and tangents.

  He wished they could start right now. Looking at her again, leaning back against the satin chair, her auburn hair shimmering against the white background, her skirt mid-thigh, her ankles crossed, he wondered what he would ask her first. He’d led with the most obvious question of all, at least in his notes. “What do you want from a man?” But now that seemed the wrong approach. Because if he asked her something like that, she’d give him a quick answer, undoubtedly correct, but limited in thought and perspective. By the time he got to that question, he wanted her to have lived with him for a while, with the concepts he was exploring. He wanted an answer that was as complex as the woman before him, nothing less.

  So what would start the dialogue? He was hoping that her answers would provoke and startle him, get him thinking in new arenas.

  He’d read all the books that were currently in vogue, but none of them had given him precisely what he was looking for.

  When he’d been in the few relationships that had lasted any time at all, there had been something illusive, something “other” about the women he cared for. Something that had doomed them, he was convinced, from the start.

  His father had clearly understood his mother, because they had been like two sides of the same coin. They had a shared language, reserved only for the two of them. Unfortunately, he hadn’t thought of asking his dad about his secret while he’d had the chance. Not that he hadn’t talked to other married men, but they’d all said pretty much the same thing: listen to her. Put her first. Don’t try to solve all her problems, just pay attention and only make suggestions when asked. Which was all fine and good, but it didn’t get to the essential mystery. At least not for him.

  It had occurred to him that while he might be bright as hell when it came to computer software and basic research, maybe the missing ingredient was in him, not in the information he was lacking. But this experiment was designed to bring that flaw to the fore, should that be the case. He wouldn’t be pleased to know it, but at least he’d stop trying so damn hard.

  No, this was worthwhile, and he couldn’t do anything to muck it up. Jessica had all the qualities of a perfect research subject, and he was privileged to have the opportunity.

  So the best thing to do was forget about any libidinous side trips. This was a field study; no fraternizing with the natives.

  “Just to warn you,” Jessica said, standing and putting her phone back in her purse. “My assistant is on her way up. I’ll introduce you, but she won’t need any convincing. Okay?”

  “Right. I’ll be the perfect gentleman.”

  “That’s fine. We’re going to be a while, though, so if you have something else you want to do.”

  “Nope. As long as I’m not in the way.”

  She headed for the bar and got herself a soda, loading up her glass with ice. “I don’t think you will be, but please don’t take offense if I ask you to take a walk or something. This is all new to me, too.”

  “No problem.”

  She sipped some soda, then got a tan leather briefcase from the bedroom before she settled once more on the white chair. A moment later, she was taking notes, and had forgotten him.

  He watched her for a long time as she worked. He liked her hands, the way they were so small, but so definite in their every move. Her nails, while polished a nearly flesh-colored pink, were short and serviceable. Like everything about her, they were meant to do the job, not to interfere. Unlike so many women he’d known, she wasn’t constantly flipping back her hair, or tossing it aside. Although her rich auburn locks were smooth and silky, and moved along with her head, there were no strays in her eyes, or on her cheeks.

  Her makeup was like that, too. Subdued. Practical. He knew a little about that, having lived with Tamara. She’d always gone for extravagant makeup, the darker, the more dramatic, the better. But that was very high maintenance, whereas Jessica looked as if she could get out of the bathroom in ten minutes. Of course, he could be wrong. Maybe looking that natural took hours, but he doubted it. She had things to accomplish, none of which would happen until she was on her way.

  What made her so driven? He wanted to know everything about her background. Only child? That would be his guess. That or eldest. But he’d bank on only. Successful father, someone to live up to. She probably didn’t have a lot of friends, as those were distractions, too. No pets. Okay, maybe fish, but then no. He doubted she’d want to worry about anything like that.

  The only other woman he’d known well that was as driven had been Kathleen Butler, an arbitrage banker he’d met at Mulloney’s one night. They’d played pool, and although he was decent, she’d kicked his ass every game. Then she’d taken him to her apartment where they’d had really kinky sex. She’d wanted to be dominated, tied up. Owned. He’d gone along with it, and in fact had enjoyed himself a lot, but he hadn’t called her again. The domination thing was fun for a night, but not a steady diet.

  He wondered if Jessica would be like that. In charge totally when it came to work, and wanting none of that in bed. The idea appealed, but maybe that’s because anything to do with sex and Jessica appealed.

  He jotted down some notes about it, fully intending to ask her.

  By the time he’d finished, there was a knock at the door, and Jessica opened it to reveal another redhead. This one was younger by several years, just out of college, he guessed. She was pretty, with a quirky little mouth and enormous eyes. The look she gave him was all wonder and curiosity, but it didn’t compare to the look she gave her boss.

  He stood up for the introductions. Marla shook his hand, but her gaze was still on Jessica. Talk about dumbfounded. Okay, so what Glen had said was true—Jessica didn’t date. Or at the very least she kept her private life private.

  “Can I get you a drink?” he asked, remembering his manners. Even though it wasn’t Owen, he was still supposed to be the dutiful boyfriend.

  “Sure,” Marla said. “I think I need one.”

  “Soda? Wine?”

  “Soda, please. Wine later. Work and all. I can’t afford to get all woogy.”

  “Woogy?”

  She nodded. “All alcohol brain. There’s so much going on. Tomorrow there are the makeovers, and then all the models and stuff. Busy, busy.”

  “So I heard. You must be excited.”

  She smiled beguilingly, the lovely pink of her cheeks aglow. “I am. I’m learning so much.”

  “She’s saving my ass,” Jessica said. “And I’d love to go on and on about it, but I think having a good night’s sleep is in our best interest, so what do you say we get to it?”

  “Absolutely,” Marla said, and she ensconced herself on the couch, folding her legs beneath her.

  Dan got her a soda, put it within her reach, then settled himself back at the desk. He intended to take notes, think more about the whole domination thing, but he got wrapped up in the dynamic of the two women, and didn’t move until 9:40 p.m., when Jessica called it a night. The hours had sped by, and he’d learned a thing or two about his subject. Mostly, that he liked her style. A lot.

  JESSICA CLOSED the door behind Marla, and fought the urge to rest her head against the cool wood. She was tired. Not just because this was D day minus one, but because of the man sitting in the corner.

  She’d had to use all her powers of concentration to ignore him. She never got distracted. A damn hurricane could be blowing outside, and she’d never raise an eyebrow. But he’d pulled at her ever since he’d walked down the hall.

  She’d thought about asking him to leave, but figured she’d get over the awareness with time. It hadn’t happened. She was just as interested in him now as she had been, more so now that they were alone.

  What had he been writing? And how could he have sat and listened so quietly for all those hours? She could
n’t imagine he was interested in New Dawn cosmetics.

  This whole project of his confused her, and his behavior tonight hadn’t cleared up a thing. He seemed like a very bright man. In fact, after doing a little more checking up on him since their initial meeting, she’d discovered he was brilliant. A self-made millionaire, owner of a consulting firm that designed revolutionary computer systems, currently in use with, among others, the FBI, the IRS and the DOD. Not too shabby.

  She turned to see him stretching, arching his back so his shirt rode up, revealing a tiny little patch of skin by his belt. She closed her eyes, although she couldn’t have said why, and when she opened them again, he’d brought his arms down. “I still don’t get it,” she said. “I can’t imagine what questions you think I can answer for you.”

  “That’s okay. I can. I have a lot of them written down in my little notebook.”

  “For example?”

  He shook his head. “Nope. Not yet. Right now, I think the important thing is food. I’m starving and you must be, too.”

  She looked at the bedroom with longing. That’s what she really wanted. Sleep. But he was right, she hadn’t eaten since her power bar this morning. “I could use some dinner.”

  “Great. Why don’t we just go downstairs. They have great steaks and a good wine cellar at Gigot.”

  “That sounds fine. I want to freshen up first, though.”

  “You go ahead. I’ll call down.”

  She went to the rest room, a little startled to see his things next to hers on the counter. It was only a leather shaving kit, but still. She tried to remember the last time she’d shared a bathroom with a guy. College. And not that often.

  Her gaze went to her reflection. She didn’t look as frazzled as she felt. The important thing was not to let this arrangement get to her. He was just a hired hand. Someone doing a job. She’d done research in college, and she understood how it worked. He’d ask, she’d answer, and the rest of the time, she’d work. Simple, and yet…

  She was so aware of him. Of his broad shoulders, his slim hips. The way his hair fell across his forehead. That nose of his that was too big, and yet exactly right. The way he kissed.