Satisfaction Guaranteed

by Lucy Monroe

  “And we don’t want to wait until we find out to start preparing the backstory. I’m not into sloppy agenting.”

  “I’m not sloppy.” She also wasn’t an agent, but no one seemed willing to give that bit of information the importance it was due.

  And she might as well stop whining about it, even in her own head. She’d agreed after all. She had to make this thing work and her dad was right about one thing…the job was tailor-made for her.

  “Maybe I should pick you up at your condo and find out, though I can’t picture you having a messy place.”

  She hadn’t meant that kind of sloppy and he knew it, but she didn’t have a snappy comeback. She was too busy trying not to think about what she wanted for dessert.

  Chapter 4

  Beth was shaking with nerves by the time that Ethan buzzed her condo that night.

  She’d told herself over and over again that this was not a real date. It was an opportunity to solidify their cover. Right. And the fact that they would be sitting across an intimate table for two should not be sending her libido into overdrive. She’d read somewhere that women were at their sexual peak in their thirties. Well, she was only twenty-nine and she’d been peaking for Ethan for almost two years.

  Which meant it wasn’t some kind of hormonal joke her body was playing on her. She wanted the man. So much that she’d stopped calling herself depraved and learned to deal with the urges. Only now she was faced with more temptation than she’d ever had where he was concerned. She didn’t know if she could deal with that.

  Darn him anyway for being the one man she was sure would not only not balk at her sexual fantasies, but who would know what to do with them.

  She bit her lip as she took a final look in her full-length mirror. She had not morphed into a cover model for Vogue in the last ten seconds. More was the pity, because while she was sure Ethan would get her sexual fantasies, she was equally certain he would have no interest in sharing them. She was not his type.

  At five-foot-six, she was at least three inches too short, a cup size too small in the curves department, and several lovers shy of the experience a man like him was no doubt used to.

  None of that had stopped her from trying on six different outfits, doing her makeup three times, and trying her hair four different ways before settling for a sloppy topknot with tendrils framing her face that went well with the simple black dress she’d settled on. It left a good portion of her legs and back bare…all in the effort to look as sexy as she could for him. For this nondate. Sheesh.

  She needed to get a life.

  The problem was that she didn’t want a life…she wanted him. Every sexy, tantalizing, irresistible inch of his six-foot-three frame.

  The buzzer went again and she jumped, grimacing. Showtime.

  She rushed to release the entrance lock for downstairs. Ethan was knocking on her door less than a minute later.

  She opened it, keeping the kittens back with one wary foot. “Hi.”

  “Hi, Sunshine. Is there a reason you’re blocking the door?”

  “The kittens.” She scooted back, keeping the cats away from the opening as she widened it to let him in. “Come on in and I’ll get my jacket.”

  Ethan moved swiftly, grabbing Beethoven as the black-and-white kitten tried to make a break for the hall and shutting the door immediately upon stepping inside her apartment.

  “Thanks. They want to go exploring, but with my luck they’d end up at the manager’s apartment. She’s allergic to feline fur and was very dubious about letting me get the cats.”

  Ethan grinned. “I can imagine.” He whistled as he looked around. “Nice place. Exotic.”

  That’s what she’d been going for. She’d decorated with Byzantine colors and rich textures like silks and velvets as well as faux fur throws on her sofa and chaise longue. It fit her, but usually surprised people that did not know her well. Even some who did.

  Ethan didn’t look surprised, only intrigued.

  “The cats like it, too…too much sometimes,” she said ruefully, looking at her gorgeous drapes, now shredded near the bottoms.

  Ethan’s gaze followed hers and he laughed as he scratched Beethoven’s head before putting the kitten down. “There’s a spray you can get that keeps the cats off your furniture and the like.”

  “Will it stop them shredding my drapes?”

  “I don’t know. My sister swears by it, though, and she’s got four cats.”

  “Four?” Beth asked faintly. Two were enough to wreak more havoc than a marauding army in her opinion.

  “She’s got kids,” he said with a shrug, as if that explained it.

  Beth hadn’t spent much time around children, but maybe it did. Maybe each child had insisted on having his or her own pet…or maybe his sister hadn’t wanted any of the kids to feel left out and gotten them each a kitten. Being an only child, those kind of family dynamics were a mystery to her. But she found them interesting. She’d always wondered what family life was like in a “normal” household.

  She used to dream of finding out. She didn’t dream of that anymore. Mostly because she’d come to realize her dreams were more fairy tale than hopeful fantasy.

  She grabbed her vintage velvet dress coat from the back of the chair where she’d left it in preparation. “I’m ready to go, if you are.”

  “Dinner’s not for another hour.” He took the coat and laid it back over the chair.

  Then he shrugged off his own leather jacket and put it on top of hers. And she let him. Without a protest. Weird. This man brought out more than one unexpected reaction in her. Even odder…she then just stood there staring at him and trying really hard to remember…this was not a real date.

  But his dark sweater clung to his muscular chest in a mouthwatering way. He looked so hot…in every way.

  He cocked his brow at her and her stomach dipped. “Um…if not dinner yet, then what?”

  “I thought we could have a drink and talk a while before we go.” He looked around her living room again. “I want a chance to soak in who you are away from the office so I can relate to that person in front of Prescott.”

  It sounded reasonable, but Ethan Crane was the last person she wanted to invite into her life on a more personal basis. Why hadn’t she given that thought more credence before agreeing to do this job? Probably because she hated making decisions based on weakness. And she definitely saw her feelings for Ethan as a major weakness.

  She took a fortifying breath. “I keep the drinks in the kitchen. What will you have?”

  “I’m partial to beer, but I don’t suppose you keep that on hand.” He managed to look sheepish and way too kissable all at the same time. “It’s the Texas boy in me.”

  “Dark ale in a longneck bottle all right?”

  His eyes narrowed. “Who do you keep that in the fridge for?”

  “It’s football season,” she said with a shrug.

  “So?”

  “I like Sunday football, but don’t tell my mother. It’s not nearly as politically correct as baseball.”

  “Who do you watch it with? Hyatt?”

  There had been a time, but Alan wasn’t the football fan she was. He preferred participating in, not watching…any sport. She was sure Ethan would be the same way. “No. By myself.”

  “So, you drink the beer?”

  “And eat peanut butter–filled pretzels? Yes. It’s all part of the experience.”

  “Maybe I’ll join you next Sunday.”

  “You like to watch football?”

  “Sunshine, I’m from Texas. Of course I like to watch football.”

  “And drink beer.”

  “I’m not sure about the peanut butter in the pretzels, though.”

  “I suppose I could spring for a bag of regular ones…or some popcorn if you’d rather.” What was she saying? Was she inviting him to invade her football season ritual?

  “I could bring my own.”

  Somehow as they’d been talking, they had also b
een moving closer together and now their bodies were practically touching. She stared up into his face and forgot what she was about to say. How had he gotten so close? Had he been the one to move…or had she? Oh, gosh…she was not going to survive this assignment. She just knew she wasn’t.

  “Ethan?” Her voice came out a breathy whisper.

  Not good. She sounded like she was issuing invitations, and she wasn’t. Was she?

  “Yes, baby?”

  Oh, man. Warmth and moisture pooled between her legs. She needed to eradicate that particular word from his vocabulary, but she couldn’t even get enough breath to protest it.

  “What’s happening?”

  “Don’t you know?”

  She thought she did, but she couldn’t believe it was happening between them. Sexual desire so strong it literally pulled their bodies closer. Or was it all coming from her? No. He didn’t touch her, but he watched her lips, his eyes filled with predatory green lights. It excited her until her body shook with it.

  A plaintive little wail and soft fur rubbing against her ankle snapped her attention back to some semblance of reality. What in the world had she been doing? She’d come this close to kissing the man and more than likely the whole moving near one another thing had been her doing. Even if it hadn’t, it was sheer insanity to give in to her physical attraction for him at this stage.

  Never mind letting someone else shred her heart for her, why not offer it on a silver platter and be done with it?

  She jumped back and swooped down to pick up Mozart. “Are you hungry, sweetheart?”

  The kitten meowed back and Ethan laughed. “I take it that was a yes.”

  “I think so.” She smiled. “I’ll just get your beer and feed the kittens before we go. I can’t believe I almost forgot their dinner.”

  She’d been ready to leave the condo without feeding them. Guilt swamped her. Some pet owner she was.

  “I have a feeling they wouldn’t have let you forget.”

  “Um…look around like you said you wanted to, and I’ll be right back.”

  “Sure.”

  She took her time feeding the cats and getting his beer, using the solitude to regain her equilibrium. That was the plan anyway; it wasn’t working too well. Knowing he was in her living room, looking around with an eye to try to get to know her, did things to her body and her heart she didn’t even want to think about.

  She vacillated between getting a beer for herself in hopes of relaxing her rapidly frazzling nerves or forgoing it to keep her wits about her as best she could. Finally deciding to go for caution over optimism, she poured a glass of sparkling water for herself instead. Nothing was going to soothe her nerves and she could not afford to lower her inhibitions even marginally.

  She walked back into the living room, wishing she’d had an hour rather than a few minutes to regroup and worrying that even that might not have been enough.

  Ethan wasn’t there. His coat was still draped across hers, but the living room was empty. From where she stood, she could see the door to the bathroom down the hall and it was open. The small room was dark. Besides her bedroom, the small condo had no other rooms. A small teak dining set served as her dining room at one end of the living room, and she’d just come from the small kitchen.

  She turned in a full circle, somehow expecting him to magically appear, but he didn’t. Where could he have gone? He would have said something if he’d needed to go back to the car for something. Not to mention, he would have donned his jacket again. Wouldn’t he? Even Ethan wasn’t immune to the cold and it was chilly for autumn.

  A muffled sound came from her bedroom. What in the world was he doing in there?

  She rushed down the hall and into her bedroom, stopping in mortified shock at what she saw.

  He stood beside her bed, flipping through an erotic romance novel by one of her favorite authors.

  “What are you doing?” she demanded in what should have been a shriek but that came out an embarrassing squeak.

  “You read some pretty interesting stuff before going to sleep,” was all he said before dropping the book back onto the table beside her bed, its blatantly sensual cover face up. He turned to face her. “If I read that kind of stuff before bedtime, I’d never sleep.”

  “It’s a good thing you don’t, then.” Thankfully, her voice was stronger and she sounded almost like her normal self.

  He didn’t respond, but the look he was giving her spoke volumes. All of it hot, if she could believe the interpretation of her own eyes.

  “What are you doing in my bedroom?”

  “Getting to know you. It’s this kind of thing that can make or break an assignment like ours.” He indicated the book with a flick of his long, tapered fingers.

  “My taste in reading material?”

  “My knowledge of it.”

  “I can’t imagine this sort of thing coming up with a prospective employer.”

  “You never know, Beth. And it’s not just a cliché…it is better to be safe than sorry.”

  “Having you snooping around my apartment was one thing, but this is an invasion of my privacy.”

  “I’m not snooping…you gave me permission.”

  “To look around. I didn’t think you’d come into my bedroom.” Was that strangled voice hers? She sounded ready to kill somebody.

  He didn’t look worried. “We’re supposed to be lovers, Beth. Of course I came into your bedroom and I’ve got to admit…I’m seeing a side of you I never expected to exist.”

  Had he looked in her drawers? Had he seen the dildo? Lots of women had them, or vibrators. She shouldn’t be embarrassed. She was single, but that didn’t mean she was sexless. She was also celibate…or had been for almost three years. A toy for self-pleasuring was practically a necessity for a woman in her position.

  “Loved the hot-pink handcuffs.”

  Her cheeks burned. “I…”

  “Who uses them? You, or him—or both of you?”

  “Neither…no one. You had no business looking in my drawers.”

  “We’ve been over this. I need to know. It’s easier to look than to ask and from the way you’re reacting, I don’t think you would have been honest if I had.”

  “You would have asked about my sex life?”

  “Yes. This is a dangerous assignment and I’m not going to risk you getting hurt because I don’t know the things I need to know to make our relationship look real.”

  “I’m not comfortable with you knowing this kind of intimate stuff about me.”

  “I’m sorry, but it’s the way it has to be.”

  And she should have realized it. He didn’t say so, but she knew he was thinking it. She had taken the training and she knew enough about their assignments to know what to expect. Or should have.

  “Did you look through my other drawers?”

  “I hadn’t gotten to that yet.”

  “Don’t.”

  “I need to, but look at it this way…you can come to my apartment tomorrow and do the same thing.”

  “It doesn’t help.”

  He sighed. “Do you want me to wait to look at your clothes until we get back from dinner?”

  “Yes.” She didn’t want to sit across the table from him right after he’d had a good peek at her lingerie drawer.

  She liked sexy underthings and could only imagine how he would tease her after seeing them. He already thought the fact she liked to read erotic romance and use a dildo was shocking…what would he think of her black leather corselette or her selection of lacy demibras she only wore on the weekends when nip-ons were not an issue because no one else saw them?

  He moved toward her, stopping a foot away. “The thing is, Beth, I can’t get the image of you tied to the bed out of my head. And it’s doing things I hadn’t planned on.”

  Her gaze skimmed down his body, snagging on the rather large, rather long bulge in his jeans. Oh, my, yes…but the image of her tied to the bed? “Don’t you mean you picture the cuffs on s
omeone else?”

  He laughed, shaking his head. “No, ma’am, I do not.”

  Oh, man…she was in trouble. She licked her lips.

  He made a soft noise that was almost animalistic and stepped closer. “You’ve got kinky thoughts, baby. I like that.”

  “I don’t picture myself tied to the bed,” she blurted, stepping hastily back from him.

  Instead of taking it for the denial she’d meant it to be, he saw below the surface. She just knew he did from the slow, easy smile that took over his hard features. “You picture tying your lover to the bed?”

  “I’m not some kind of closet dominatrix.”

  “Not unless you’re into pain, you aren’t.” He rubbed his chin, his green gaze too darned knowing. “Are you into pain, Beth?”

  “No!”

  “Not yours.”

  “Not anyone’s!”

  “But you like the idea of tying a man to the bed?”

  Oh, they could not be having this conversation. “That is none of your business.”

  “I’ll take that as a yes. Why do you want to tie your lover down, sweetheart?”

  She shook her head, too choked to answer.

  “Maybe we should talk about it over dinner.”

  “We aren’t going to talk about it at all.” But especially not over dinner. What kind of man thought sex talk at dinner was appropriate?

  Ethan. Dangerous. Untamed. And too sexy for her health.

  She shook her head emphatically. “N-no. No sex talk over dinner.” She swung her hand up to emphasize her denial, only realizing she was still holding the glass of sparkling water when it sloshed over the sides.

  Ethan grabbed his beer from her hand before it suffered a similar fate. He took a long swig. “Mmm. That’s good, but I know something I’d like better.”

  “N-no…”

  “I promise you, baby, I do…and you’ll like it, too. But it will keep. Drink whatever that is you poured yourself and then let’s go. If we don’t leave soon, we aren’t going to make it to the restaurant at all,” he said in a dark voice.

  She wanted to pour the sparkling water over herself rather than drink it. To cool off. He could not mean what she thought he meant. Could he?