SEX APPEAL

by Lori Foster

  "Are you all right?" she asked breathlessly.

  "This is becoming a habit." The lights she held were now draped over his chest, and her bow had slid forward to hang over one eye. Brent laughed, which wasn't easy, considering Shadow sat on his diaphragm. She bounced slightly with his movements. "I think I would be better if you could remove yourself."

  "Oh." She flushed, then quickly scrambled to her feet. It was an ignominious process and Brent, gaining several glances of her slim legs and lush backside in the tights, realized her bottom half was as enticing as her top half. Perhaps more so. He levered himself up to a sitting position, then came slowly to his feet. The seat of his pants was wet from the snow, and when he felt his head, he discovered a bump.

  Shadow still wore a pretty blush, but she brazened it out, untangling the lights from her arms and leaving them draped over the stepladder. "Come on inside to my office and let me look at your head."

  Déjà vu, Brent thought as she literally dragged him inside. "My head is fine, it's just my pants that are a mess."

  Shadow peered around behind him. Luckily, he hadn't worn a suit today, opting instead for casual corduroy slacks, a thick fisherman sweater and a bomber jacket. She looked at his butt, made a tsking sound and hurried him through the door.

  Kallie glanced up as they came in, called a friendly hello to Brent, then went back to her work. There were a couple of customers loitering, but they didn't seem to have noticed the comedy on the front walk. He supposed that was something to be grateful for.

  Inside her office, Shadow closed the door and turned to Brent. She bit her lip, looked him over, then blurted, "You could maybe take them off and I could try to clean them."

  Brent smiled. "First, thank me for not feeling compelled to make any sexual comments in response to your offer."

  "Thank you."

  He nodded. "The pants will dry. Don't worry about it. Did you hurt yourself?"

  "No. You broke my fall." She cleared her throat. "Thanks again."

  "What exactly were you doing out there, anyway? You should have a handyman do that sort of thing for you."

  "I can take care of anything that needs to be done. I'm not helpless. Besides, I was enjoying myself. Well, at least before my skirt blew up. I, ah, don't suppose you missed that?"

  He didn't bother to temper his grin. "No."

  Flushing a bit more, she said, "At least my tights covered me completely." She began removing the bow that now hung around her neck, then riffled her fingers through her short curls, pushing them off her forehead. They sprang right back. "Won't you be uncomfortable eating lunch with a wet seat?"

  "Maybe we could just have lunch here. That way no one would stare and wonder."

  "Women would look regardless, you know."

  "Thank you." Damn, she had him grinning a lot. "If we eat here, I can go home and change afterward. I'm not needed in the office today. I got everything cleared out of the way in the hope you could take some extra time off. I'd like to talk a little more."

  Shadow looked thoughtful, swinging the bow from her fingers. "I suppose I could. Wednesday isn't one of our busier days. Kallie could probably handle everything. And I would like to spend more time with you."

  She never ceased to amaze him. "Are you this open with every man you meet?"

  "Why? Does it bother you?"

  "No. It's just that I'm not used to women being so blunt. That is, unless they want…"

  "What?"

  He shook his head. "Never mind."

  She waited a moment more, then shrugged. "I never was any good at being diffident."

  Feigning disbelief, he said, "I don't believe that."

  She returned his smile. "It's just the way I am, and I stopped trying to change myself long ago. But I like you, so I hope you're not so offended you won't want to see me again."

  "It'll take some getting used to, but I'll manage." What a fabrication, he thought. Get used to her? She fascinated him. "Now, about lunch? Can we order something in?"

  She accepted his change of topic with a smile. "I'll run down to Take a Break. Eliza will fix us up something. Do you have anything particular in mind?"

  "Whatever you're getting is fine." Brent reached in his pocket to pull out his wallet. Shadow grabbed his hand.

  "It'll be my treat." He started to object, and she added with a frown, "I insist."

  Brent paused, then went for a compromise. "All right. But only if you agree to let me buy you dinner. Tonight."

  "I still don't know you that well—"

  "You can pick the restaurant. Surely there must be someplace local where you'd feel comfortable." She frowned in thought for so long, he said, "I didn't ask you to solve the question of world peace, Shadow."

  She finally nodded. "All right."

  "Such a concession," he teased, noting her wariness. "What time do you get off tonight? I'll pick you up."

  "No. I'll meet you at Reba's in the mall. About seven?"

  "I have a feeling that knowing you will be a constant tug-of-war over control." He touched her cheek, felt how soft and warm she was, and shook his head. "If I say one thing are you always going to say another?"

  Shadow stilled, her bow dangling from her fingertips. "I wasn't aware," she said slowly, "that you were angling for control."

  Careful, Brent warned himself. She was brazen, but she was also noticeably skittish. "Right now," he said with a smile, "all I'm angling for is lunch."

  She looked at him hard and evidently came to a few favorable conclusions. With a jaunty salute, she said, "Have a seat. I'll be right back."

  Rather than sit, Brent wandered around her office after she'd gone. It was small, no more than ten feet square, with a large desk, two extra chairs and a filing cabinet. She had a window and door that opened to the back alley, and on the sill were several small planters. His business card rested in the center of her desk. There was also a greeting card of sorts, and without any guilt, Brent picked it up to investigate.

  It was from her secret admirer.

  That amused him, thinking it was probably some young, inexperienced kid hoping to gain her favor. The words inside, written in a bold, masculine scrawl, were brief, stating only that she was basically "wonderful" and that her young swain was "deeply affectionate."

  Brent wondered if Shadow was as open with all men as she'd been with him. He didn't like to think so, but that would explain some young pup thinking himself in love with her. She was the type of woman to turn any man's head, but especially someone inexperienced and vulnerable.

  Brent was sitting in one of the chairs, his coat beneath him to protect the seat's floral fabric, when Shadow returned. She had a pot of coffee, two mugs and a large white sack of foodstuffs. Brent sniffed, then smiled appreciatively. "It smells good, whatever it is."

  "Ham and cheese stuffed croissants with pasta salad. I'm not certain what flavor the coffee is, but we'll find out soon enough."

  Shadow served up all the food, poured Brent some coffee, then settled back in her own chair. He had only enough time for three bites before she pulled out an entry form for the contest. "We can fill this out while you eat."

  Brent eyed the form with distaste. "I don't know, Shadow. I'm not much for contests."

  "Nonsense. You know you're attractive, and you don't strike me as being particularly shy. I still need three more men, and quite frankly, I'm getting tired of soliciting them on my own."

  He froze in midchew.

  "Ah, I didn't mean that quite the way it sounded."

  Brent took a gulp of coffee. It was, unbelievably, flavored with orange and some spice that burned his tongue. "Do you mean to tell me," he asked with incredulity, "that you have approached other men just as you did me?"

  "Well, maybe not exactly the same." She winced a little. "You're the only man who was alone. Here, I'll show you." She opened a desk drawer and pulled out a file. Within seconds, she had seven photographs, contest entries attached, spread out on the desk.

  Brent wa
s curious, no doubt about that. He leaned forward to survey each picture.

  "This is Guy Donovan," she said. "His wife, Annie, made him enter."

  "Couldn't he have at least combed his hair?"

  "Annie likes his hair that way." Shadow slid another photo toward him. "This is her brother Daniel."

  "He looks serious."

  "Oh, he is. He's a doctor. His wife, Lace, tried to get him to show his chest for the photo, but he can be stubborn."

  "Who's this guy?" Brent asked, none too pleased with the photo of a dark man wearing a devil's smile.

  Shadow laughed. "That's Max. He's a rascal, and he was all for taking off his shirt, but his wife, Maddie, refused. She threatened to get her own picture taken—the same way—if he dared do that. He's Annie's brother, too."

  "You know these people well?" It seemed to Brent she was overly familiar with other women's husbands.

  "I met them through Bea. She's the lady who creates a lot of the slogans for the clothes for me. When I was new here, Bea brought them all in to meet me. Now we're friends."

  A bit relieved, Brent asked, "Was your secret admirer one of the men who entered, do you think?"

  "Actually, I was wondering about that." She turned the remaining photos around. "The young man here is Chad Moreland. He's a pharmacist close by. Friendly but shy. These two older gentlemen are brothers, Dean and Frank Stiles. They own a vet clinic on the next block and they're so funny they make my sides ache. And this stud," she added, laughing, "is Ricardo. He does the landscaping for the strip mall. He's an outrageous flirt, too."

  "Do you think he'd send you gifts?"

  "Ricardo? Naw, he's right there in your face with his compliments."

  Brent felt a slow simmer of annoyance. "You're saying he comes on to you?"

  She lifted one shoulder. "He comes on to everyone female. Young and old. It's just his way."

  Brent didn't like hearing that, even though it was really none of his business. "What about the others?"

  "They're all just nice guys as far as I know. I can't see any of them doing this." She indicated the card on her desk. "Not only did I receive a card and candy, but for the last two nights I've gotten breather phone calls. You know the type—you say 'hello' and no one answers. I hate that. Though I know it's nothing, just a prank, it still makes me nervous."

  Which proved she was no dummy, as far as Brent was concerned. "Maybe you should have your home number changed."

  Shadow flushed, picking at the remaining bite of her croissant. "I thought about it," she admitted. "But I had hoped you might call me, and if I had my number changed, there was no way for you to look me up in the book."

  Brent leaned back in his chair, still appalled by how easily she shared her private thoughts. It was downright distracting and he had to wonder if this wasn't just another well thought up female game. When elusiveness didn't work, bring out the blatant truth. "I gave you my card," he pointed out. "You didn't call me, either."

  She groused at him defensively. "You already thought I was easy! I know the rules, even if I don't always follow them. Women don't call men."

  "I wouldn't have minded." He kept his tone gentle, his gaze glued to hers. He reached across the desk and caught her hand. "What did you want to talk to me about?"

  "I don't know." She went strangely breathless when he touched her. "I feel … nice, around you. Very aware and alive. I like that. I kept thinking of you, and I just wanted to hear your voice. Don't get me wrong," she added when he frowned again. "I'm not husband hunting or trying to claim love at first sight. It's just that I haven't met a man I was really attracted to in a long time, and it has nothing to do with how handsome you are. It's more that you're different, just as I am." Then she groaned. "Oh boy, now I sound insulting. I mean, I know most people think I'm kind of weird. I wasn't suggesting you're weird, also."

  "Shadow." Brent reached one long arm across the desk, gently laying his fingers over her soft lips, silencing her. "I don't think you're weird. Different, certainly, but in a refreshing way. I like you, too, all right?"

  Since his fingers were still on her mouth, Shadow could only nod.

  "Good. Now, why don't you call and have your number changed, then let me know what it is." He leaned away from her to pick up a pencil from her desk, then pulled a small piece of paper from his pocket. "My home phone number," he said, showing her the paper. "I've only just settled into the house, and the number is still new to me. I can't remember it myself yet."

  After copying it down for Shadow, he handed it to her. She glanced at it and said, "You have the same exchange as me. Where did you move to?"

  "Woodbine Haven. Are you familiar with it?" Brent already knew the answer to that. He was, in fact, only a few blocks from where Shadow lived. He'd been pleased when he read her file and realized how close they would be. He waited for her reaction.

  She disappointed him when she said only, "I know where it is." For another moment she was silent, then, sounding disgruntled, she said, "You really are rich, aren't you?"

  What could he tell her? Woodbine Haven was a section of older, grand houses renovated and advertised as a prestigious neighborhood. It was a private section, containing only about twenty houses, and each was huge, with much of the original architecture from over a century ago. Seeing Shadow's disappointment and not really understanding it, he asked, "Is that a problem?"

  "No. Not really." Her soft lips twisted in a wry grimace. "But I've known wealthy men and they tend to assume women will do anything they want just because they have money. They're arrogant and condescending and egotistical."

  "Probably," he said, his back going stiff with memories, "because most women will do anything for money. I can tell you firsthand how attractive women find the size of my wallet."

  Her eyes twinkled with mischief. "Don't you have any other sizable assets that could distract them, instead?"

  Exasperation crowded out the more unpleasant emotions. "Shadow…"

  Laughing, she raised her hands. "I meant your new home, of course! Woodbine Haven is positively extravagant!"

  Brent shook his head in mock reproach. "As soon as I can manage it," he warned softly, "you're going to view the rest of my assets, firsthand."

  She attempted to hide her grin and failed miserably. "Well, in the meantime, how about filling out the entry form? Please."

  With a dramatic sigh, Brent agreed. "If you insist." Shadow stood to clear away the remains of their lunch, and it was then Brent realized she hadn't removed her coat yet. It wasn't cold in the office, but he'd at first assumed she wore it to ward off the chill caused by her trip to the coffee shop. He asked her now, "Planning on going somewhere?"

  Shadow gave him a puzzled look as she threw the trash in the can. "No."

  "Then why don't you take your coat off?"

  Heated color rushed to her cheeks, but she lifted her chin. "I don't want you to see my dress."

  He sat back, prepared to be amused again. "Why not?"

  "It … well…"

  "Stammering, Shadow? This is different." Her mouth tightened, then she said, "It seemed kind of cute this morning when I first dressed, but now I've decided it would be better if I kept it under wraps."

  Predictably enough, Brent's gaze went to the coat concealing her dress. "Now you've intrigued me." He stood and moved closer to her. "Take it off." It wasn't an order, more like a coaxing suggestion.

  Shadow shook her head. "You'll think I'm being suggestive again."

  With infinite care, Brent reached out and began to undo the buttons of her soft, down-filled coat. When Shadow didn't object, holding her breath instead, he continued. She began to babble.

  "It's silly, really. Just one of those joke items I'll be selling this holiday season. I wouldn't wear it anywhere but the shop, but I was in a holiday spirit this morning, and not really thinking about how it might look if someone separated me from the items I sell."

  "Hush." Brent was busy giving his eyes free rein over her bo
dy. Damn, she was fine. More than fine. He had only to think of her and his muscles tensed, heated. He wanted her, and he'd have her. Soon. He parted the coat.

  The dress ended well above her knees and was made of dark green knit, soft and clinging to the dips and swells of her upper body, but with a full skirt. The front, imprinted with a glitzy, decorated Christmas tree, caught and reflected the office lights off the many small sequins and buttons and beads. Brent knew it was the message printed above the fancy tree that Shadow was now feeling timid over.

  Deliberately, he read it out loud. "There's Something Special under my Tree for You."

  Since her body was under the tree, branches reaching across her breasts, the base ending at the notch of her thighs, Brent could understand her shyness. That she looked unbelievably enticing in the dress would only add to her dilemma. Brent skimmed the coat completely off her shoulders and down her arms, then tossed it onto the chair he'd just vacated. His hands went to her shoulders, straight and broad for a woman, emphasizing the tiny span of her waist.

  "I don't ever want you to be embarrassed with me, Shadow. Promise me."

  Nearly speechless, Shadow whispered, "I promise."

  He caught her face in his hands. His thumbs stroked over the softness of her cheeks and chin and jaw, his fingers delving into her dark, loosely curling hair. So incredibly soft, so warm. For an endless moment he stood there like that, enjoying the differences in their sizes, the light, feminine fragrance of her, the way she watched him, her thoughts now transparent without her speaking a word. Then he released her and stepped away. "You'll have your phone number changed tomorrow?"

  Shadow cleared her throat, then took several deep, openmouthed breaths. Finally she said, "Yes. I think it might be best. I've already told Kallie not to accept any more packages for me, to send them back if more should come."

  "It's probably nothing to worry about, but be careful. Don't go to the parking lot alone, and keep your door locked at home."

  Her slim brows lifted. "I do that anyway," she answered, obviously annoyed. "I'm not careless."

  Not careless, but she was independent. "Fine." The last thing Brent had meant to do was insult her. "Let's get that damned entry form filled out then, if you really think it's necessary."