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  She had seemed to enjoy that kiss he gave her. And she was a bit awkward, socially. Maybe she didn’t get out much.

  “Great idea,” Jonathan said.

  Oh hell. Had he said that out loud?

  “Take her out. Wine her and dine her. Do whatever you have to do with her, but get her to agree.”

  “You want me to compromise my principles for a contract?”

  Jonathan laughed. “I know you, Mark. You have no principles. Besides, she can’t be that hideous. Take one for the team, pal.”

  “Bad idea, Jonathan.” He had to steer Jonathan away from Lara McKenzie. No way did he want to see her again. “Actually, I had a couple ideas for a different kind of feature that I think you might like. I’d love to run some ideas by you.”

  The silence on the other end of the line spoke volumes. He was screwed.

  “Look, Mark. You’re a great writer and all, but we’ve already decided what we want. You either get Lara McKenzie on board or we’ll have to go in a different direction.”

  Different direction meaning he’d be out of a contract. “I’ll see what I can do, then.”

  “Great! Go charm the panties off her. Call me when you have the deal.”

  The line went dead, kind of like how Mark felt. Nothing like going from soaring with the eagles to crawling with the snakes in a matter of seconds. He closed the cover on his phone and tossed it on the bed, not wanting to face his animated relatives just yet. In fact, he’d rather be at home in New York instead of Nowhere, Pennsylvania.

  Worse, he’d have to go back and see Lara McKenzie again. Something he really didn’t want to do, for a lot of different reasons. But she held the key to his future, and like it or not he had to get her interested.

  He needed a plan before he approached her. Some way to get her to agree to write the articles.

  Maybe a little romance wasn’t such a bad idea. Not real romance, because he sure as hell wasn’t interested in her that way. But she had seemed flustered around him. And if there’s one thing he knew, it was when a woman was attracted to him. Not that he was stud of the year or anything, but any man who couldn’t spot a woman’s receptive signals had no business calling himself a man.

  Plus, he wasn’t that bad-looking and had a little charm. He’d never had any trouble getting a date. So he wasn’t repulsive and she’d told him that guys weren’t exactly beating down her door for dates. Although there was that Bob fellow. But she hadn’t seemed too enthused about him, so maybe he had a chance.

  Lara McKenzie was interested in him. That was his angle. If he could play on her attraction to him, get her to trust him, maybe even get a little romantically involved with her, she’d agree to do anything for him.

  Guilt made his stomach clench. Okay, so it sucked that he’d have to lie to her. Deceiving women wasn’t something he liked to do. The types of women he dated had no problem putting up with his I-don’t-want-to-get-involved speech.

  Lara wasn’t that type of woman, so he’d have to lie.

  Damn, he hated to do that. But in this case, it was necessary. His career was on the line. The brass ring was within his grasp. And if he had to lead Lara on a bit to get there, he’d apologize later.

  He’d just make sure to keep it light and friendly and not let her get too involved. He might have to get her to like him a little, but he wouldn’t let it go any further than that.

  As secluded a life as she lived, she’d probably jump at the chance to get out and have some fun.

  * * * * *

  Lara assumed the knock at the door was the express courier delivering the books she’d ordered. She was right in the middle of a key passage in her book and refused to get up. He’d just leave it, anyway.

  But the incessant tapping continued. Blowing out a sigh, she pushed her wayward hair out of her eyes and padded to the door, conscious of the fact she wore sweatpants with holes in the knees and a tank top without a bra. Well, she supposed she’d give the delivery guy his thrill for the day.

  She chuckled at that and threw open the door, then immediately wished she hadn’t.

  Oh God. What was he doing back here? “Mark?”

  He grinned and leaned against the doorway, looking too tall, too male, and too temptingly sexy. “Thought you’d never see me again, didn’t you?”

  Actually, he’d been her number one fantasy the past two nights. “No, I didn’t. Why are you here?”

  “Can I come in?”

  Social skills, Lara. Gotta work on those social skills. “Sure.”

  She moved out of the way and he brushed past her, his shoulder connecting with her right nipple on the way by. It hardened. On the one breast only, of course. Now she looked deformed. And she couldn’t very well pluck at her shirt without looking like she was masturbating in front of him.

  Great. She crossed her arms and followed him into the living room.

  And look at her house! Her clean laundry was everywhere again, newspapers on the floor and research books littered all over the furniture. Chagrin washed over her face. “Sorry. The maid is late today.”

  “Looks like the same one I use.” He winked, then sat on the sofa next to her dirty socks.

  “Um, is there something I can help you with, Mark?” Like showing you the front door again? She grabbed for her socks and stuffed them behind a pillow.

  “I told you I was going to be in town for a while, right?”

  Did he? Frankly she couldn’t remember much of that humiliating experience. Maybe she’d conveniently blocked it out of her memory. “I guess you did.”

  “Well, my family has this annual reunion, and this year it’s at my aunt and uncle’s. They live in Breckenridge, just east of here.”

  “Uh-huh.” Brilliant conversationalist. Where did she get her Ph.D. anyway? K-mart?

  “It’s pretty boring there. Thought you might be up for a night out. I just had to get away from family, and since we hit it off so well the other day I thought I could entice you into going out with me.”

  Was this some kind of alternate universe? Who exactly did he meet two days ago? Her doppelganger?

  “No.”

  His eyes widened. “No?”

  “I said no. Thank you, but I’m not interested in going out with you.”

  He frowned as if she’d given him the answer in French. “No?”

  Surely she didn’t have to spell it for him. She’d given him credit for being smarter than that.

  “No. I’m very busy and don’t have time to date.”

  The shock on his face was priceless. “You don’t like me?”

  Oh, hell. This had never happened to her before. “Of course I like you.”

  “Then why won’t you go out with me?”

  Because I don’t know how to date, you idiot. Look at me! “I told you. I’m busy.”

  “It’s because you’re dating Bob, right?”

  “No.”

  “So, you two aren’t exclusive?”

  “No, we’re not.” Which was a lie, of course. Bob was her nightly companion, just not in the way Mark thought.

  “Okay, I get the hint. I’m repulsive.”

  Was he blind as well as an idiot? “You are not repulsive. You’re sexy as hell.” And speaking of hell, shut the hell up, Lara.

  His eyes darkened. “Sexy, huh? So you are interested.”

  Where was Nancy when she really needed her? She pinched the bridge of her nose and closed her eyes, willing away a headache.

  “Lara, look at me.”

  She did, then wished she hadn’t. The look of sexual promise in his eyes had her wet in exactly two seconds. “Okay, I’m looking at you.”

  He scooted over and took her hands in his. Her sweaty hands.

  “Look. This isn’t a proposal of marriage. I just thought you might want to go out. I felt like we connected the other day, and thought you might want to explore that a little. I know I do.”

  Connected? Explore? Was this some kind of joke? “We connected.”

&nbs
p; “Yeah.”

  “You and me.”

  “Yeah.”

  “And so you want to take me out.”

  “Yes.”

  She stood and paced behind the sofa, wringing her hands together. She could just say no and be done with it. Then again, when would she have another chance to go out with a fun, gorgeous guy? She didn’t attract guys like Mark Whitman. Not since…well, never. “Okay.”

  He stood and watched her, his lips curling into a smile. God, she wanted to lick that grin off his face. Then bathe the rest of his body with her tongue.

  Uh-oh. There went her nipples again. Both of them this time. She crossed her arms over her breasts.

  “Great. I’ll pick you up at eight.”

  She followed him to the door. “Eight.”

  “Yeah, eight. Is that okay?”

  No. None of this was okay. “Sure. Eight. Fine. See you then.”

  He walked out, then turned partway and said, “Oh, and wear something sexy. We’re going dancing.”

  * * * * *

  Three hours later she was sitting in Lamour, the town’s best salon, with Nancy jabbering in her ear.

  “Take a bunch of length off. And do something with her toenails, ugh. And those fingernails. Geez, Lara, when are you going to stop biting your nails?”

  When I’m dead. Which she wished she was right now. She should have known better than to tell Nancy about Mark’s return. Her friend had nearly burst her eardrum squealing over the phone, then raced over and dragged her out of the house, claiming she needed a total makeover.

  She wondered if Marco, the stylist currently tsk-tsking over her hair, could do a complete personality makeover while he was at it.

  Maybe make her vivacious, alluring, a witty conversationalist and an overall fun date.

  She wouldn’t know a fun date if she tripped over it.

  “Dahling,” Marco said, “What do you wash your hair with? This stuff is like straw. It has to go.”

  Nancy had assured her Marco was the best stylist in town. Right now he looked more like Dr. Frankenstein.

  And Lara was the monster—his latest science project.

  In less than two hours she’d lost a good ten inches of her hair and had her eyebrows waxed. Bronze Babe nail polish sparkled on her fingernails and toenails, and they’d taken so long to apply makeup that she probably looked like a hooker.

  But when Marco turned her around to face the mirror, she smothered a gasp.

  Who was that woman?

  She looked over at Nancy’s smirking face, Marco’s self-satisfied one, then back to the stranger in the mirror.

  Her. The one with short, wavy red hair that curled lightly against her chin, and green eyes that sparkled, showing off her heart-shaped face. Full lips were painted the lightest bronze color and shined with sparkles.

  “Wow,” she managed.

  Nancy squeezed her shoulders. “Wow is right. Honey, we should have done this years ago. I’ve been telling you that you’re a knockout.”

  Somehow she knew that at midnight she’d lose her glass slipper and turn back into the scullery maid she really was.

  “Now, we shop for clothes.”

  She paid homage and a hundred dollars to Marco, thanking him for the miraculous transformation. He was no Dr. Frankenstein, the man was a freakin’ genius!

  Then, despite her protests, Nancy dragged her out of the salon and into the trendiest clothing store in the village. Every sexy outfit she said no to, Nancy said yes. They argued until Lara was simply too tired to fight any longer.

  By the time they got home she wanted to take a nap, not get dressed.

  But there she stood, in front of her bed where three outfits stared back at her, daring her to wear one of them on her date.

  A date she didn’t want to go on, anyway. How did she keep getting talked into doing dumb things? First the masturbation-a-thon, now this date with Mark. Was she a slug with no backbone? Why couldn’t she just say no?

  “I know what you’re thinking.”

  She glanced in the mirror and saw Nancy behind her. “No, you don’t.”

  “Yes, I do. You think you don’t want to go out with Mark.”

  “Okay, maybe you do know what I’m thinking. But look at me, Nance. This isn’t me. This is someone else.”

  Nancy stepped behind her and grasped her shoulders, hugging her. “No, sweetie, this is you. You just hide behind miles of hair and loose clothes because you’re afraid if you step outside your shell, no one will love you.”

  “Ridiculous. You psychoanalyzing me?”

  “I’ve known you since we were kids. You were the smartest girl I knew, with big green eyes and a full smile that the boys would drool over. But you never noticed. And eventually, they stopped drooling over you, because they knew they weren’t going to get your attention.”

  She patted Nancy’s hand. “You’re delusional.”

  “And you’re in denial. Now get that gorgeous body into one of those sexy dresses so you can strut your stuff and get laid.”

  “Nancy!” She pushed away and turned to her best friend. “I am not getting laid.”

  Nancy crossed her arms and smirked. “I’ll bet you a million bucks he has his hand up your dress before the end of the night. And if you don’t call me tomorrow and tell me he gave you an ear-splitting orgasm, I’ll resign as the resident meddler in your life.”

  “You’re on.”

  Hand up her dress. Ear-splitting orgasm. Nancy was full of it.

  After Nancy left, Lara slipped on the short blue dress that sparkled in the light like the aurora borealis, then teetered into the living room on strappy blue sandals with heels that looked like they were made of thin straws.

  She’d fall on her ass trying to dance in these things. But, she had to admit they made her legs look long and shapely.

  By the time eight o’clock rolled around, she was hyperventilating and wanted to throw up. But she was bound and determined to go on this date, if for no other reason than to prove Nancy wrong.

  No one was getting their hands up her dress tonight. And the only one giving her an orgasm later would be Bob.

  A soft rap on the door had her heart catapulting into her throat. Sucking in oxygen, she opened it slowly.

  Adonis. Well, it was Mark, but it could have easily been Adonis.

  Black pants, gray shirt that molded to his impressive chest in a way that made her want to drool. Raven hair that her fingers itched to run wild through. And a killer smile that curled the ends of his moustache upward.

  She’d never survive the night.

  * * * * *

  Mark stood in the doorway, his mouth hanging open.

  Where had the frazzled little redhead gone? Who was this gorgeous siren decked out in a sinfully short wisp of a dress, with her hair cut and styled and showcasing a face that stopped his heart?

  And her mouth. Holy shit, that mouth. Visions of those full lips wrapped around his cock had the snake coiling and twisting to life in his pants.

  Not good. Not good at all. The objective here was to fool her, not fuck her. He was supposed to garner her interest, not get into her panties.

  But damned if that wasn’t what he wanted to do right now. Forget the date, forget the subterfuge. Just throw her over the nearest piece of furniture, pull that hot dress over her hips and slide into what would surely be a nice, tight, wet pussy.

  Ah, hell.

  “You look gorgeous,” he finally managed.

  The blush she wore on her cheeks only made her look more desirable. “Thank you.”

  “You ready to go? I’m anxious to get my arms around you.”

  At her shocked expression, he corrected, “On the dance floor, of course.”

  “Oh. Of course.”

  She closed the door and brushed past him, giving him a whiff of a soft and seductive scent. Vanilla with something a little wild mixed in.

  Just like the woman. Sweet and innocent, but he’d bet his career that her innocence hi
d a lurking wildcat just waiting for someone to let her out of her cage.

  Mark wanted to be the one to set her free.

  He was in deep trouble.

  Chapter Four

  Lara tugged at the hem of her dress for the umpteenth time, conscious of how the silky material rode up her thighs.

  She was also fully aware of the way Mark’s eyes darted to the skin exposed by the traveling material.

  They’d been in the car for over a half hour and during that time he’d cast several glances in the direction of her legs. And cleared his throat a lot. Other than that he was mostly silent. Probably wondering how quickly he could get her back home.

  Although he had seemed genuinely pleased with her appearance.

  God, she was so inept at reading a man’s sexual signals. And she called herself an expert? Yeah, right. Only if the subject in question wasn’t focused on her.

  She inhaled a shaky breath. Damn, he smelled good. Like the mountains. Crisp, clean with a seductive spice that made her want to search his skin for the location of that scent. Everywhere.

  Which immediately brought about a vision of her nuzzling his balls. Damn.

  She cleared her throat.

  “Doin’ okay over there?” he asked.

  “Fine.”

  “You’re fidgety.”

  “I’m fine.”

  “You don’t get out much, do you?”

  Was it that obvious? “Not really. I prefer working on my books and research.”

  “Real sex is more fun than reading about it.”

  Her gaze flew to his and he winked. “Well, it is.”

  Not the sex that she’d had. “I’ll take your word for it.”

  “I could…”

  He didn’t finish his sentence. She couldn’t resist asking, “You could what?”

  Instead of answering, he turned into a parking lot filled with cars. “We’re here.”

  Mark came around and opened her door, then led her to a one-story brick building. She heard the music from the parking lot. People milled outside. A neon sign blinked from the window, proclaiming the place as All That Jazz.

  Smoke poured out of the dimly lit nightclub. Strains of a saxophone wailing from the stage filled her senses with a slow, seductive melody that sang through her nerve endings.