James, Sherry - [Studs For Hire 01]

by Woman On Top (lit)

  Black Velvet Seductions Publishing Company

  www.blackvelvetseductions.com

  Copyright ©2006 by Sherry Siwinski

  First published in 2006, 2006

  NOTICE: This work is copyrighted. It is licensed only for use by the original purchaser. Making copies of this work or distributing it to any unauthorized person by any means, including without limit email, floppy disk, file transfer, paper print out, or any other method constitutes a violation of International copyright law and subjects the violator to severe fines or imprisonment.

  ISBN 0-9774682-7-5

  Copyright 2006 Sherry Siwinski

  Cover Art Copyright 2006 by Kara Elsberry karasdesigns@aol.com—

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

  All characters in this book are completely fictional. They exist only in the imagination of the author. Any similarity to any actual person or persons, living or dead, is completely coincidental.

  Published 2006

  Printed by Black Velvet Seductions Publishing Company in the United States of America—

  Visit us at:

  www.blackvelvetseductions.com

  Dedication

  For Mike, my amazing husband and friend. Thanks for sticking by me all these years and cooking a meal or two along the way, for wrangling the kids, and most important, keeping the faith while I pursued my dream. You're the best!

  And for two people who are near and dear to my heart—Eugene and Nadene Budde. You've always encouraged and supported me. Thanks for being a great Mom and Dad.

  Acknowledgment

  Writing is one of those things that even though it's pretty solitary, most of the writers I know don't totally, go it alone—including me. There is always someone along the way who makes a difference in our life that directly reflects our writing career in one form or another. Whether it's a simple piece of advice, a critique of a manuscript, a catch of a misplaced coma, a shoulder to cry on after yet, another rejection, or great pals to celebrate a sale with, having that support along the way is invaluable. I've had the privilege to be touched by many people along the rocky road to publication and most belong to my writers’ group, the small but mighty, Prairieland Romance Writers. Thanks for all your help and support over the years. You gals are the best! And a special thanks goes to my ace critique partner, Julie Miller. Thanks for all the hours filled with laughter, M & M's, popcorn, and just for being there. You rock, Julie!

  CHAPTER ONE

  "Sydnie, your two o'clock is here,” Casey said as she entered her partner's newly decorated office."And whoa, is he hot! He's just what we've been looking for."

  "I hope you're right. His resume certainly is impressive,” Sydnie Riley said as she glanced over Allen Bosch's list of carpentry skills one more time.

  "To heck with his resume.” Casey sat on the edge of the antique oak desk. “All this guy has to do is show up at my place in nothing but a tool belt and I'd be a satisfied customer."

  "That nice, huh?” Syd glanced up at her friend and smiled.

  "Nice? Nice doesn't begin to describe this guy. One look at him and I knew I'd found my fantasy bad boy. I wonder if he owns a Harley."

  Syd shook her head in amusement. Leave it to Casey to check the guy out in full detail in two seconds flat. “Well, show him in. We've got a long list of interviewees this afternoon. I'd like to get some men hired as soon as possible. Jobs are beginning to stack up on the waiting list."

  "Did I tell you how smart you are, Syd?” Casey said as she studied her red polished fingernails.

  "Yeah, about a dozen times.” Syd laughed. The two women were not only business partners, but best friends. Along with their other good friend Terri Alberry, the three always shared their hopes, dreams, and drowned their man sorrows together in lite beer and chocolate chip cookies. Throw in an occasional gallon bucket of strawberry swirl ice cream, and all heartaches were forgotten. At least temporarily.

  It was only natural the trio would join forces when they'd all had enough of the power suit, pantyhose world that was still, in their opinions, dominated by a slew of arrogant, egotistical, male chauvinists.

  "Creating this contracting agency was ingenious. I wish I'd thought of it.” Casey flipped her long blond hair over her shoulder. “I mean, once word gets around, not a single woman in Omaha is going to call the competition when she can have her sink unclogged, or her outlet rewired, by a handsome hunk from Studs for Hire. We're going to be rich."

  "Don't start counting the George Washingtons just yet. We'll have a lot of expenses along the way, and payroll will be the biggest."

  "Yes, I know. I am our accountant, remember?” Casey plucked a candy cinnamon stick from the jar on Sydnie's desk. “But being surrounded by men who rival Adonis while we wait for the money to roll in is my idea of heaven. All we need now is to keep an endless supply of t-bones, wine and chocolate stocked in the fridge."

  "Sounds delicious,” Syd cooed. She rose from her chair and pulled a file from beneath Casey's designer jean clad bottom. “But unless you show in our first choice cut-of-the-day, we'll never be able to afford anything more than an occasional mushroom burger."

  "Say no more. I love a good steak almost as much as a night of sultry sex.” Casey hopped off the desk and sighed. “But if I can't have the sex, by damn I'm going to at least have the steak."

  Pathetic. That's what this whole situation was. Three grown women settling for corn-fed Nebraska beef in lieu of steamy sex. Sydnie shook her head. Life was filled with so many injustices.

  She gathered a stack of papers from the top of her desk and turned toward the file cabinet.

  Filing. She hated it. As soon as they could afford it, she'd hire an office girl for this stuff. Or better yet, an office stud. A cute, sweet guy with eyes as blue as the heartland sky outside of the Omaha city limits would suit her fine. She'd watch for a possible candidate in the pile of applications they'd received so far.

  "Hello, Syd,” a deep voice drawled.

  Sydnie's hand stilled above the long row of manila folders in the top drawer of the file cabinet. Her breath caught in her throat.

  She knew that voice. Knew it all too well.

  But what would Trevor Vanden Bosch be doing here? Didn't he get enough gloating in before she was practically forced to crawl away from the advertising firm over a month ago?

  Rounding up her courage, she turned to face the man who'd helped rip her career dreams out from beneath her like a zero to sixty in two-point-six-seconds sports car.

  He leaned against the door jamb and folded his arms across his broad chest. Standing there in a pair of jeans and a snug fitting black T-shirt, the man who'd caused her to devour two quarts of Rocky Road in one sitting, was more handsome then ever.

  "What are you doing here?” she managed to ask around a lump in her throat.

  "I'm here about a job."

  "I don't need an advertising rep, Vanden Bosch. Contrary to what you might think I'm quite capable of coming up with my own ad campaigns.” She slammed the file drawer shut. “Now if you'll please leave, I have a two o'clock appointment waiting."

  "I'm not here about advertising, Syd.” He shoved away from the door and moved deeper into the room.

  "Then what are you here for?” She arched a brow, ready to battle with this guy if necessary. “Gloating is so unbecoming. Didn't your mother teach you that?"

  "I told you. I'm here about a job. Specifically,” he said as he pulled a folded newspaper from his back pocket and pointed to a classified ad circled in bright red, �
��a position as a carpenter."

  A burst of sarcastic laughter escaped Sydnie's throat. His audacity dredged up memories she'd spent the last thirty days trying to forget with frequent, expensive, trips to the nearest day spa.

  Who did he think he was coming in here like this? Well, he was on her turf now. And there was no way she'd let any man mow over her again.

  "I don't have time for your B.S., Vanden Bosch. I have someone waiting."

  "I'm your two o'clock."

  "Not unless you've changed your name to...” She picked up the resume. “Allen Bosch...” her voice withered.

  "At your service.” A Mel Gibson-like grin tugged at one corner of his mouth.

  She'd been duped. A new surge of anger hit her full force. “Get out,” she said coldly.

  "Now, is that anyway to treat an old friend?” he asked as he rounded the desk and stopped in front of her. The furniture she'd picked out with such care at Ethan Allen's shrank in his presence.

  How could it be he seemed taller than she remembered? It must be his boots. The soles of rugged work boots were thicker then the dress shoes he normally wore. And those thousand dollar suits he'd prided himself on had nothing on the snug fitting pair of jeans he wore now. Along with a shadow of a beard dusting his jaw, this side of Trevor exuded a maverick sexuality she'd never seen before.

  Casey was right. Trevor was damn hot. A warm flush prickled Sydnie's neck as she realized she'd been sizing him up.

  "You're not my friend. Now get out,” she said bitterly. Angry with herself for allowing Trevor to affect her senses, Sydnie knew she needed to get rid of him before she did something stupid like the last time they were together. Normally she didn't throw herself at men, but Trevor had a way of bringing her wild side to the surface. She'd thrown caution to the wind before and had dearly paid the price for such foolishness.

  She wouldn't make the same mistake twice.

  "Look. I knew you wouldn't see me unless I used some kind of alias—"

  "Trevor Allen Vanden Bosch. Of course.” She cringed, wondering again how she could have let herself be fooled so easily.

  "The one and only."

  "Well, Allen.” She placed her hands on her hips and faced him with her full five feet, six inch frame. “This interview is over. I'm afraid the position you're applying for has been filled."

  "That's not what your lovely partner told me. In fact, she seemed certain I'd be the right man for the job.” He smiled and that infamous dimple on his left cheek didn't disappoint. She had to admit that dimple was one of the things about him she'd never forget. Well, and then there was his coffee brown hair with that stubborn lock that always dropped over his forehead in a rakish way. And too, there was the way his toned muscles strained at the fabric of his shirts. In a business suit he always looked like the ultimate professional.

  But today ... ?

  Today he looked every bit the bad boy Casey fantasized about.

  "Are you ... licensed?” she asked, searching for a reason to get her mind back on track, and hopefully make him leave. “I didn't see anything on your resume about a license, but then, since you lied to me to land an interview, I'll assume this long list of credentials is all a fabrication, too."

  "I didn't lie to you. I just twisted my name a little."

  "A little?” She tossed his file onto her desk and crossed her arms, firmly putting up her defenses. “You purposefully misled me."

  "Come on, Syd. I'm qualified for the job. Just give me a chance to prove it.” He stepped closer. The air in the room thickened around them. Trevor ran the pad of this thumb along Sydnie's jaw and her heart skidded to a halt.

  Oh, boy. They were careening into the dangerous, no return zone. She needed a serious reality check.

  "You're as hot and sexy as ever, Syd,” he said smoothly.

  That did it. Time to beat him at his own game. “Yeah? Tell me more, handsome,” she whispered and brushed her lips against his, teasing him unmercifully. No doubt he thought he could make her fall at his feet and forget all about everything that had, and hadn't, happened between them. And truthfully, the touch of his lips against her own just now, almost made her forget.

  Big mistake. Big, big mistake.

  "Save your charms for some other poor damsel,” she said huskily. Sydnie jerked away and steeled her resolve to keep at least a yardstick's length of distance between them at all times. She had every reason in the world to despise this man. She'd best not forget it.

  "Besides, why should I hire you?” she asked. “You've got a job already. And don't tell me eighty-thousand a year isn't enough to keep you living in high style in Omaha and you need a second income."

  "Let's just say I'm looking for a new challenge in life.” He winked.

  And he thought she was going to be that challenge? Wrong. Damn the man. He looked as cool and confident as usual.

  "Ha! The only challenge you'll find here is if you can get through the door before the knob hits you in the as—"

  "Come on, Syd. Give me a break."

  "Look. I don't know why you're here, or what you're up to, but whatever the reason, it's no good. Now save me the trouble of firing you later on, and leave."

  "Dammit, Syd. I need a job,” he said with a flat tone.

  "Oh?” She crossed her arms. “If you're really desperate, I hear the Roller Hop drive-in is hiring.” She couldn't stop the smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. “Roller skates and a chartreuse miniskirt would look fabulous on you, too."

  "Syd. I'm serious. I need a job.” He brushed an unruly curl from her face. The temperature in the room soared from his touch. The chambray shirt she'd put on over her crop-top to ward off the early morning chill now felt like a suffocating wool blanket.

  "How dare you come in here like this! I'm in no mood for your games. I had enough of the carnal promotional ladder at the world renowned Smythe and Jones Ad Agency.” She spun around, not allowing herself to look into those dark-brown lady-killer eyes of his. The man could be so infuriating at times. Sexy, but infuriating.

  "All right.” He took a deep breath and raked his fingers through his hair. “I got ... fired."

  Fired? Trevor? Now that would be something to celebrate, provided, of course, it were true. “I don't believe you."

  "Damn, you're as stubborn as ever.” He rolled his eyes. “Believe it, Syd. I'm on the street."

  "Ah, what happened? The big wigs at the Smythe and Jones decided you weren't worth that fancy promotion, after all?” Sydnie couldn't help feeling a tinge of satisfaction.

  "It doesn't matter,” he shrugged. He sat on the edge of the desk and picked up the decorative smoke-colored bottle Sydnie had placed next to her page-a-day woman's empowerment calendar.

  "So why did you come here for a job? Why not go to another agency? We're just starting out. I can assure you the pay is better elsewhere.” She studied him with skepticism.

  "I've always had a knack for working with wood. And when I heard about your little business venture, it sounded like a great opportunity to do something I'd actually enjoy for a change."

  "Really? And you expect me to buy this story? For some reason I can't picture you taking a seventy-thousand dollar pay cut."

  "You don't know me very well, Syd.” The expression covering his face was as serious as a two-dollar bill, and to her disgust, she wanted to believe him.

  Yeah, maybe she didn't know him very well. But then, maybe she did. A little too well. And that intimate knowledge, combined with Sydnie's instincts, told her Trevor was up to something. He preferred his affluent lifestyle too much to simply walk away from it because he needed a change.

  "Just give me a job,” he continued. I've got a car payment to make. Hey.” He pulled the glass-topped cork out of the bottle. “This looks like Jeannie's bottle except it doesn't have all the decorative painting on it.” He peered down the throat of the bottle. “There's no couch inside. What a bummer."

  Syd grabbed the bottle from him, replaced the topper,
and set it firmly back in its place on the desk. “So trade off the Lexus and get a Duster like other down-on-their-luck souls."

  "It's nice to see you haven't lost your sense of humor,” he chided. “So. What's it going to take to get you to hire me?” He gazed at her with a smoldering intensity that could melt the knees of a marble statue.

  He stepped forward with the grace of a black panther moving in for the kill. Standing this close, Sydnie could smell the subtle scent of his musky cologne. She took a deep breath, allowing herself a mere second of pleasure.

  But now wasn't the time to let this man disintegrate her resolve. He'd shrugged off her advances before and made a fool of her in front of her colleagues. She wouldn't allow it to happen again.