by Lynn, Janice
All four women put their hands out and entwined them in their ritual hand hold.
All for one, one for all.
Just like the three musketeers, only there were four of them and they were a whole lot smarter, prettier, and more vengeful.
* * *
Running a major publication wasn’t always an easy job. Not when you were surrounded by egos who thought the universe evolved around their trite selves.
Jude rubbed his temple and checked his watch. Only nine-thirty in the morning and his head throbbed with the intensity of a twelve-hour work day already.
Could anything else possibly go wrong?
He hit the intercom button. “Mrs. Sedwick? Bring me some aspirin and a glass of water, please. Otherwise I’m not going to be responsible for my actions when Mrs. Yamaguchi arrives.”
Without waiting for her reply, he picked up the handset and called to check on the proofs that were supposed to be on his desk yesterday. The proofs for Mrs. Yamaguchi’s mega-dollar campaign for her herbal sexual dysfunction product and other sexual pleasure enhancers.
“Not yet,” was the reply he got to his barked demand to know if they were ready.
Hell fire.
What was wrong with him? He was crankier than a bear sitting in a briar patch.
Missing proofs.
Headache.
Mrs. Yamaguchi and her sly looks and interested innuendos.
Two weeks without sex.
Ding. Ding. Ding. We had a winner.
Hell, that wasn’t it. Not really. He’d gone two weeks without having sex before.
Not often since hitting puberty, but he had gone without.
He’d broken things off with his current girl. Not that they were exclusive, but he knew she wouldn’t understand the sudden change in their physical relationship. He sure as hell didn’t want to explain his “no more sex till my friend gets laid” vow.
Abstinence had nothing to do with his crankiness.
But perhaps Marcus’ continued depression did. The fool missed three days of work last week. For no good reason except that he hadn’t felt like going. He had to get out of this downer before Joy stole even more of his life. Like his career and reputation.
As his best friend, it was Jude’s duty to make sure that didn’t happen. Somehow.
Only problem was that he didn’t know how to pull his friend out of his depression. Didn’t know how to help him get beyond his broken heart.
His quick and easy answer was to get Marcus laid, but what if sex wasn’t the answer?
Who was he kidding? Of course, sex was the answer. Indirectly, if not directly.
If he could get Marcus interested in a woman, natural instinct would cure the rest.
A light tap on his door let him know Mrs. Sedwick had his aspirin. Thank God. His head pounded and Mrs. Yamaguchi and her eye-watering perfume hadn’t even invaded his office yet.
“Come in,” he called, picking up a report on next quarter’s projected features.
Without looking, he knew it wasn’t Mrs. Sedwick.
Mrs. Sedwick never smelled like fresh baked cinnamon toast. The kind his mother had made him on Saturday mornings years ago.
Nor had he ever gotten a quickening in his gut at Mrs. Sedwick entering his office.
“Where would you like me to put them?” a feminine voice asked. A voice that despite its no-nonsense attitude was also sultry and seductive. Hell, he could listen to a voice like that read the telephone directory and not get bored.
But the voice wasn’t his beloved assistant’s gravelly-from-smoking-for-forty-plus-years voice.
“Where’s Mrs. Sedwick?” he asked, looking up to collide with dynamite.
At least he was pretty sure what he saw was dynamite.
Definitely something exploded within him when his gaze met hers.
Something hot and liquid and of cataclysmic force. Like a pent-up volcano erupting.
Damn. Two weeks was too long to go without sex.
Had this woman been in the bar that night eyeing him in the light the redhead had, Jude wasn’t sure he’d have accompanied his pal home.
Not that he’d have broken his vow, but he would have gotten a phone number and set up a future date at the minimal.
“She’s been called away.” Her green eyes flashed with quicksilver intelligence and a bit of impatience. Like she had better things to do than chit-chat with him.
“Why?”
A perfectly-shaped brow rose. “I assumed you knew.”
“You assumed wrong.”
“She won an all-expense paid trip for four to Disney. She’s gone with her daughter and grandchildren. It was one of those use-it-immediately-or-lose-it deals.”
Odd that she hadn’t mentioned this to him before leaving, but perhaps she’d arranged everything via human resources. He’d check on the details later. After he appeased Mrs. Yamaguchi and got that report.
After he figured out what about this delectable woman set his insides on fire and made him want to know everything about her.
“Who are you?”
She gave him a tepid smile, definitely not one meant to light any flames. No matter, he already blazed.
“I’m from the temp service.”
Did she know how gorgeous she was with her hair pulled up in that French braid with the tendrils framing her face? Probably. Most women knew exactly what their strengths and weaknesses were.
This one made him weak. Weak kneed. Weak willed.
If Marcus didn’t get laid soon, Jude was going to hire the man a shrink and drag his depressed ass to see him.
What would she look like with her hair unplaited and covering her shoulders? Her bare shoulders? Bare shoulders he’d be tempted to brush her hair from and kiss?
Jude swallowed and felt like a damn fool. What was wrong with him? He didn’t react to women this way. Not so intently. Not so blatantly. Not so instantaneously. Not so all-consumingly.
Sure, he’d been attracted to women, lots of women, but never like this.
“What temp service?” His voice growled deep and throaty. Was it possible to pick up second hand smoker’s voice?
“The one Mrs. Sedwick contacted prior to leaving for Florida this morning.” She remained poised with elegance and grace, although he half-expected her to roll her eyes.
He raked his gaze over her figure. A man’s style white cotton button-down blouse tucked into a gray skirt that molded her hips in a way that was utterly sexy despite the fact the outfit wasn’t meant to be sexy. The shirt did little to hide her hour-glass figure and that she probably had a better body than that month’s centerfold. The skirt fell to a couple of inches above her knees. His gaze traveled lower over long legs and toned calves that could rock a man’s world. Damn. Forget this month’s centerfold. She looked better than any centerfold he’d ever featured.
He’d like to spread her pages and read between the lines.
He blinked, trying to quit seeing her as a female sex-sicle. One he’d like to lick all over. He enjoyed sex, but procreation didn’t usually monopolize his every thought. His every body cell. Had to be the abstinence.
“When will Mrs. Sedwick be back?”
“I suspect not nearly soon enough.” Her words came out on a resigned sigh, as if she found him highly annoying.
“What?”
This time she did glance ceiling-ward, then gave him a tight smile. “I’m not sure when she’ll return. My orders are to work here until Mrs. Sedwick comes back, so that’s what I’ll do.”
“Then what?”
She set the water and plastic cup containing two tablets in front of him. “Then you’ll have Mrs. Sedwick to fetch your water and your aspirin.”
The way she said the words condemned. She found the task degrading. Mrs. Sedwick was a motherly sort and loved doting on him. Of course, this living, breathing Venus couldn’t know that. Perhaps to another the task would be menial. Then again, she was his assistant and at the company to make his life easie
r. Getting rid of his headache would make life easier.
Sexual release would make his life easier.
A hell of a lot easier. Because his temples weren’t the only part of his body throbbing.
Jude wanted this woman. Badly. More than he recalled ever wanting a woman.
Which was ridiculous. He didn’t even know her.
Even he had his limits.
He didn’t sleep with complete strangers.
Of course, right now he didn’t sleep with anyone.
What had he been thinking when he made that vow?
Oh yeah. Extra motivation to help his best friend get out of his post-divorce depression.
“What’s your name?”
“Angela.”
Getting answers from her was like pulling teeth. Slow and painful.
Angela. He liked it. Didn’t Angela mean angel? She certainly looked like she could have dropped straight from heaven. Come to think of it, she reminded him of that actress Angelina Jolie. The Angela before him was pretty damned perfect-appearing.
“Angela what?”
“Angela Greene.” She pursed her all-too-tempting lips.
He might want her, but it was quite obvious she didn’t reciprocate the feeling.
Fascinating.
How long had it been since a woman presented a challenge?
“Married?”
Her gaze narrowed. “That’s none of your business, Mr. Layman.”
“Polite conversation makes working relationships more tolerable.”
“I’ll only be here a few days. Surely I’ll be able to tolerate you that long.” With that his angel spun on her toes and sashayed out of his office with the clickety-clack of “do me” high-heeled shoes.
Mrs. Sedwick never wore shoes like that.
Jude supposed he was on the verge of being a jerk, watching Angela as she walked away. Watching and enjoying the view.
Had to be because he knew he couldn’t have her making him ache to know more about what made Angela Greene tick.
Who was she and what was it about her that made him want to dive right in?
* * *
Avery had made a grave miscalculation.
Even the slightest miscalculations were unacceptable.
The colossal one she’d just made was deplorable.
Not that she thought he’d noticed.
Jude Layman had been too busy seeing her as a sex object to notice her reaction to him. A reaction she’d done her best to mask.
But she’d failed.
How was she to know looking at him would make her sweat?
Sweat in places she hadn’t known sweated.
Her neck, her breasts, her thighs.
She certainly wasn’t attributing the moistness down there to anything other than sweat, that was for sure.
That perverted bastard had not turned her on with his unusual eyes and movie star good looks.
He was a user, a cheater, a liar.
He totally saw women as only sex objects for his amusement. Or to feature in his degrading magazine.
She slid into the seat she would occupy until Mrs. Sedwick came back. From Jude’s photos she’d known he was a gorgeous man, but the camera hadn’t caught his charisma, the air about him that oozed with testosterone and pheromones and whatever else it was that made her feel like a silly school girl. One who wanted to clamor for his attention.
No wonder Playhouse Magazine was so successful. What woman wouldn’t take off her clothes if Jude Layman asked her to?
Avery’s cell phone rang.
She glanced at the display panel.
Randi.
She dropped the phone back into the chunky black purse she carried as part of her Angela Greene persona. She didn’t feel like answering Randi’s questions about Jude at the moment. Tonight would be soon enough to deal with her partner’s curiosity.
Frankly, she didn’t know what to say.
She’d met the mark and she’d had to fight to remain focused.
Her. The woman who didn’t enjoy sex and had never been attracted to a target. Ha. She was never attracted to anyone. Not since Scott and that had been eons and a broken heart ago.
So why now? Why Jude Layman?
She glanced up and saw him lounging against the doorframe. A knot formed in her throat. Long and lean, dressed in black slacks and a black shirt that clung to his broad chest like a second skin, he watched her with an intensity that frightened her just a little.
Or maybe the fear came in secondary to the feminine excitement that jettisoned through her veins at the prospect of spending the next few days in his company. The fear that she was jealous of a black knit shirt wrapped around those shoulders, his chest, and his narrow waist.
“Thanks for the aspirin.” He smiled. He had the most amazing of lips. Full and soft and sensuous. Lips that made a woman want to trace her finger over them. Lips that made a woman want to know what they’d feel like pressed against hers. Her lips. Her throat. Her breasts. Her belly. No! She wouldn’t continue with that downward train of thought.
“I’m feeling better already,” he said, his eyes lazy and heavy with interest.
She wasn’t interested. Not really.
He wouldn’t be feeling better long.
“Fine.” Had she sounded too brusque? How dare he attract her? Just because he had those eyes, marvelous lips, and that cleft chin and that…oh! She had to stop. “You’re welcome.”
He grinned, like he found her annoyance with him amusing. Fine, she’d be the one amused in about thirty minutes.
“When Mrs. Yamaguchi arrives, send her in.”
“Yes.” She refused to look at him. The bastard. Maybe if she ignored him, he’d take the hint and go back into his office.
An office that surprised her. She’d expected pin-ups and girly calendars and other such paraphernalia. Jude Layman’s office had been the utmost in refined class for the most part. A sleek mahogany desk and matching bookshelves. A black leather sofa with a coffee table in front of it with several copies of Playhouse Magazine scattered on its mahogany surface. A couple of matching chairs that could be turned toward his desk or the sofa. Of course, there had been the artsy, foot-high statue of a man and woman locked in an embrace on his bookshelf and the framed covers of Playhouse Magazine plastering one wall.
After several minutes, she glanced up and met his amused gaze.
He winked. A good-to-honest wink that turned her insides to putty.
Her breath caught, but she hid her reaction and pretended to focus on her computer monitor. Pretended because she couldn’t focus on anything other than the man standing in the doorway.
Oh yeah, she’d made a grave miscalculation all right.
She was pretty sure Jude Layman had the power to undermine every single thing she’d convinced herself of since Scott walked away with her virginity and her heart.
Things like her being impervious to men.
She’d ignore whatever the odd attraction Jude held was and she’d bring him down. Just as planned.
Nothing more. Nothing less.
She knew the rules and Avery always played by the rules.
She’d co-written this particular set.
Revenge for hire, that was her game, her sisterhood, her life.
Chapter Three
Jude was having problems concentrating on Mrs. Yamaguchi even before his stomach started roiling. He blamed the stench of her heavy perfume. That and the headache he’d already been suffering from. Unfortunately, the aspirin hadn’t knocked the pain and the cloud floating around Mrs. Yamaguchi sent him from bad to worse.
“You understand that for my company to continue advertising in your magazine, we expect a higher quality ad than the one from last month?” the petite Japanese-American woman said. Mrs. Yamaguchi’s company represented a big chunk of Playhouse’s advertising revenue. A very big chunk.
Needless to say, Jude couldn’t afford to offend her and unfortunately the woman was easily offended.
“Actually, your marketing people sent the ad. We ran it as was as we were directed to do.” An invisible fist grabbed hold of his gut and twisted. Jude gritted his teeth, ignored the perspiration beading along the edge of his hairline and neck, and forced a smile. “But, I take full responsibility.” He clenched his hand at the next stomach pain that hit. “We should have caught that the ad wasn’t up to par and asked for a resend.”
A loud gurgle had Mrs. Yamaguchi’s eyes dropping to his midsection and not in the usual way she stared at his crotch.
She spoke, but he didn’t hear, just saw her mouth moving.
His face burned and his gut threatened to burst. An embarrassing squeak sounded and Mrs. Yamaguchi’s mouth shut and her eyes rounded.
Hell fire.
Fire. Yup. That’s what was moving through his insides. Hell freaking fire!
“Excuse me.” He couldn’t stand the cramping anymore and took off out of his office at mach one speed, clutching his stomach and breaking the sound barrier all the way.
* * *
Avery hid her smile at Jude’s rushed getaway from his office. One hand covered his mouth and the other clutched his stomach. Pink flushed his face and his skin looked slick.
He didn’t seem amused anymore.
“Well, I never,” Mrs. Yamaguchi huffed when she came out of Jude’s office.
“Really?” Avery smiled politely. “Because that’s not what Jude says about you.” She gave a sugary sweet once-over and pretended to have the IQ of a bean. “He says you do and quite often if rumors can be believed. How else would you know all that sex research stuff?”
The woman’s mouth dropped, and her gaze narrowed. “That arrogant meathead.”
She lifted her chin and stalked from the office.
Avery puckered her lips and kissed the air.
Because Jude would definitely have to do some hiney-smooching to get back into Mrs. Yamaguchi’s good graces. He’d do it, too. Otherwise, he’d have to say bye-bye big advertising account.
Mentally, she scored one for The Get Even Agency and scorned women every where.
